The Bus Is Cool

The Bus Is Cool

from: ppx
dialup04203.intersatx.net
03-08-15
15:04

I'm the geezer with the knowing look and the synthesizer manual in German, staring off into space, I like the street people, they always want a cigarette, I don't smoke, so that's no problem, one guy said, "you want a snort?", my eyes brightened, of course he meant whiskey, now that's a sweet man, eh? you know they don't offer that unless its an act of human kindness, he said "you don't drink, you don't smoke... then why are you...?" I said, "because I'm cool, man" Why does a person have to be a drunken homeless bum just to ride the bus? I dress like shit ON PURPOSE, otherwise I would be inundated with women wanting me to raise their kids, I can't handle it, although I wouldn't mind a little home cooked food... mmmm, that could win me over bigtime... actual FOOD... mmmmmmm... I love food cooked by moms, or even better, grandmothers... mmmmmmmmm... I get very cooperative, so nice and kind, one thing you must understand, I'm clean, very clean... I just look scary as hell... cops always want to know who the fuck I am... then they see that I am a clown, and they visibly relax, they even like me... I like cops, they aren't prejudiced against artists... when I show them CD's I've been on, they get very respectful, cops LIKE CD's! I can't say I blame them, I like 'em, too, especially CD-ROM's with full page ads in OMNI magazine, their eyes bug out, cops in my studio is lots of fun, they can't believe the technology, computers everywhere, pieces of computers everywhere, tapes and CD's to the ceiling, wall to wall, then in the middle of it is this scarggly old scary guy and suddenly it hits them... "CREATIVE"... they get downright friendly and helpful... God bless the SAPD, they were my best recourse during my period of HELL, add to that my friends like you in here, and it makes such a horrible thing survivable, so to summarize... the BUS is cool, the COPS are cool, and MY FRIENDS are cool... for that, I thank you... (ppx bows and falls on his studio couch, drifting off to sleep, hiding from the bright morning sun)

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