As an angry old man, I appreciate younger ones. You sound as if you take your whiskey straight. And you smoke as well. That's the frosting. I have a couple of packs of Winstons in my gun safe along with my .38, waiting for the apocalypse or a diagnosis of cancer or some other disease in death's tool box. Oh, and an angry old man friend is always telling me how he made a flame thrower out of a leaf blower. You might want to look into that. You could roast that son-a-bitch good neighbor of yours. Keep on ragin,' my friend.
“…where men torment each other with lawn care or home improvement projects.” Yes. You don’t have a store/deli next to your house, do you? where people park huge I’m talking huge industrial trucks, excavation equipment, leaving them idling for 30-45 minutes while they get a sandwich and shoot the shit, loud, concentration-destroying idling engines next to your house. “Maybe if you had a real job you wouldn’t be home to hear all this. Not one of those email jobs. Must be nice.”
Thank god I don't at the moment, though I know that situation well. The idling trucks, dear lord. But my street, which is technically quiet, is still surrounded by construction projects. This city, man...
"supplicated like a Roman emperor until I stepped down into the real world where no one cares if you live or die, if you succeed or fail, the real world where you have to pummel people into noticing you" - Siddhartha has an epiphany but instead of seeking satori he bursts a blood vessel in his temple.
Thanks for the read, Caleb, I really enjoyed it. If you're taking suggestions for the overall title of this series I propose the Backyard Blowhard Blues.
Planning to tackle your entire Hardly Working collection this weekend, will post a review on Goodreads.
Glad you enjoyed, Murph. Appreciate you taking the time for Hardly Working. My style has evolved a bit since those days not long passed, but I hope it still holds up
Did you mean to repeat the sentence in the final paragraph and refuse to capitalize Criterion? Otherwise I liked how the tone oh so gradually shifted from bilious to lonely; this is the default American male setting: anger to loneliness to self-destruction and back to anger.
I didn't intend to repeat the line originally but when I caught it a little later I liked the haunting, glitchy dissociative quality it added and thought it fit well enough, same with lower case Criterion. But you're exactly right on the tone shift, that was by design
No, not really, I intended it as an extremely dry joke. The continuity among each part is solely in the first person perspective of an isolated man. The title of this third part is a deadpan wisecrack, ie lonely aren't likely to meet each other, hence the incredulity toward a loneliness epidemic
As an angry old man, I appreciate younger ones. You sound as if you take your whiskey straight. And you smoke as well. That's the frosting. I have a couple of packs of Winstons in my gun safe along with my .38, waiting for the apocalypse or a diagnosis of cancer or some other disease in death's tool box. Oh, and an angry old man friend is always telling me how he made a flame thrower out of a leaf blower. You might want to look into that. You could roast that son-a-bitch good neighbor of yours. Keep on ragin,' my friend.
As a matter of fact I do take my whisky straight. Appreciate the advice, and I don't intend to stop raging anytime soon
“…where men torment each other with lawn care or home improvement projects.” Yes. You don’t have a store/deli next to your house, do you? where people park huge I’m talking huge industrial trucks, excavation equipment, leaving them idling for 30-45 minutes while they get a sandwich and shoot the shit, loud, concentration-destroying idling engines next to your house. “Maybe if you had a real job you wouldn’t be home to hear all this. Not one of those email jobs. Must be nice.”
Thank god I don't at the moment, though I know that situation well. The idling trucks, dear lord. But my street, which is technically quiet, is still surrounded by construction projects. This city, man...
"supplicated like a Roman emperor until I stepped down into the real world where no one cares if you live or die, if you succeed or fail, the real world where you have to pummel people into noticing you" - Siddhartha has an epiphany but instead of seeking satori he bursts a blood vessel in his temple.
Thanks for the read, Caleb, I really enjoyed it. If you're taking suggestions for the overall title of this series I propose the Backyard Blowhard Blues.
Planning to tackle your entire Hardly Working collection this weekend, will post a review on Goodreads.
Glad you enjoyed, Murph. Appreciate you taking the time for Hardly Working. My style has evolved a bit since those days not long passed, but I hope it still holds up
Did you mean to repeat the sentence in the final paragraph and refuse to capitalize Criterion? Otherwise I liked how the tone oh so gradually shifted from bilious to lonely; this is the default American male setting: anger to loneliness to self-destruction and back to anger.
I didn't intend to repeat the line originally but when I caught it a little later I liked the haunting, glitchy dissociative quality it added and thought it fit well enough, same with lower case Criterion. But you're exactly right on the tone shift, that was by design
I'll admit that I came in on Part 3 without reading 1 and 2, but I don't understand the choice of title for this post. Was I meant to?
No, not really, I intended it as an extremely dry joke. The continuity among each part is solely in the first person perspective of an isolated man. The title of this third part is a deadpan wisecrack, ie lonely aren't likely to meet each other, hence the incredulity toward a loneliness epidemic
Urban noise … I don’t miss it.
Memories of childhood … I don’t want it back, but I’m (mostly) glad it happened.
Not going to work for a month … I wish it was an option.
Great post.
Thanks, Cont. Not working for a month would be a dream, but unfortunately it's one of the fictional elements in this narrative