merry belated christmas

well friends, it feels like it's been a bajillion days since i last posted anything...

and well, it probably feels like a bajillion days, because it actually has been a bajillion days.

for that, i apologize.

a bajillion days is a long time.

i'll be honest though,

i've made efforts...

there have been times where i've logged in, clicked "new post", in an effort to entertain you all, but ended up just staring at the blank page, only to close the window and move on to some other mind numbing activity...

i've been selfish.

i've chosen entertaining myself, over entertaining you...

the three people that read this blog, occasionally.

and i understand, that's not fair.

that being said, i'm back!...

for now...

until i get bored and go watch sports highlights, until i forget completely that this blog exists...

i'm sorry?

anyways,

allow me to be frank;

i feel like, in my ongoing search for entertainment and motivation, i constantly, unintentionally, lose focus on my true goal: becoming letterhead famous, because of the mediums i seek for said motivation.

my point - youtube and wikipedia are the devil.

blame them for my lack of postings!

everyone has fallen victim to the "youtubing" phenomenon, i'm certain.

where you watch one video, and then youtube suggests other videos you should watch, so you watch them, and then they suggest more, so you watch them too, and next thing you know, it's 5:30am and you have to work at 9.

devastating.

devastating, not only to my life in general, but to my creative genius.

it's pretty hard to write or record video while watching 7 hours of youtube, you know?

what's worse is, i can't help it.

wikipedia is even WORSE*.

*only if you are a huge loser nerd like me. otherwise, youtube is the undisputed champ in worseville.

i'll look something up quickly while i'm watching 7 hours of youtube videos, but then once i start reading, i'll want to look something else up, and then that will cause me to want to look something else up, and then i'll look something else up, etc, etc...

so next thing you know, i've got 13 tabs open of wikipedia pages that i want to read, all the while, watching 7 hours of youtube videos...

you can only imagine how much more that consumes my life...

11 hours, to be exact.

i counted once...

11 hours.

if it's impossible to write or record anything while watching 7 hours of youtube videos, you can only imagine how impossible it is while watching and reading 11 hours worth of material every day...

throw in trying to learn sweet songs on the guitar, so chicks will think i'm awesome, for 4 hours...and well...my day is shot.

"dear blog,

sorry, i'll get you next time.

youtube and wikipedia are ruining my life.

but by 'ruining', i don't actually mean 'ruining'...it's more like 'improving', but still ruining at the same time...

you know what i'm trying to say, right?

you understand me.

that's why i love you.

you're the best.

sincerely, booya.xo

ps. i learned how to play wonderwall today. i'm totally gonna get laid soon."

aaaanyways...

you smell what i'm cookin?

i'm not trying to make excuses,

i'm just trying to keep it real with you all.

here comes my best effort in avoiding getting caught up in my own loserish youtube/wikipedia world, and devoting more time to you.

wish me luck!

facts of life

old people love coffee.

it could be sunny and 35 degrees celsius out. grandma and grandpa could have just gone for a 30 minute walk, and instead of coming home and drinking big tall glasses of ice water, they'd put the coffee on.

breakfast, lunch and dinner. coffee, coffee and coffee.

i don't get it.

coffee isn't refreshing.

it's not ever going to quench my thirst.

i drink coffee to wake up in the morning. that's it.

how does drinking 26 cups of coffee even make you feel?

no wonder old people are shaky...they're all dehydrated and hopped up on caffeine.

it's fucked.

there were two nice old ladies in for lunch, at the restaurant i work at today, who were the primo stereotypes.

they sit down. order coffees. black.

i drop off their appetizer. bruschetta. more coffee please.

i drop off their meals. shanghai noodle bowls, medium heat. water? nope. more coffee.

really?!

i drop off their dessert. more coffee.

not a single drop of water or anything their entire visit.

they consumed a garlicy appetizer. a spicy asian noodle bowl and dessert and you mean to tell me they didn't want a sip of something other than coffee to quench their thirst?!

it boggles my mind.

and what makes it crazier is that they need their coffee to be boiling hot, or it's "not hot enough".

don't you ever want to drink something cold?!

why do they hate water so much?

i should just start bringing old people glasses of water and see if they drink them.

it could be like a science experiment.

but they'd probably all look at me like i was crazy and just ask for more coffee...

i can't wait until i'm old so i can finally understand.

is this real life?

justin bieber has already written an autobiography?

are you fucking kidding me?

he's 16 fucking years old.

how much shit could he honestly have to talk about?

disney is thinking about firing keith richards due to the graphic detail he uses when describing his sex and drug use, in his autobiography...

what's bieber gonna talk about? the first time he got a boner?

ha!

listen to some excerpts from this heaping pile of trash:

i hope the only reason people buy this book...is so they can give it to homeless people to burn to keep warm this winter season.

this shit is fucking funny

not only is it good fucking design advice, it's also good fucking life advice.

i particularly enjoy "use fucking spell check".

because nothing makes you look like a bigger donkey than when you spell shit wrong.

you'd think being in the age of text message mania, people would be better at spelling...

but instead retards everywhere continue to say shit like "ur".

the worst part is, these people probably don't know the difference between "you're" and "your".

let me break it down for you:

you: "i'm really smrt!"

me: "you're an idiot."

your mom: "my son is really smrt!"

me: "your son is an idiot."

get it?

got it?

probably not...

i probably shouldn't take credit for finding this.

you're not SMRT

people who are idiots should not be able to play on-air radio games.

it's embarassing. really.

what do the following things all have in common?

1) a bee hive
2) a chess board
3) england

"i don't know!"
"i was thinking something to do with pawn, but that doesn't make sense"

...seriously??!

i hope she doesn't have aspirations of becoming a brain surgeon when she grows up.
i'd probably rather leave my life in the hands of a pile of rocks.

have a nice day.


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i want to punch you in the face: on the fly edition

hey lady,

if you wanna buy smokes from domo, how about you don't park inbetween the two fucking pumps while i'm pulling up to get gas?

fucking donkey.
don't worry, i'll wait.


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i want to punch you in the face

photoblog edition

episode: three

-----

apparently vintage and helvetica are where it's at?

at least that's what i found out @ilikelivingsmall.tumblr.com

here's my attempt. laugh, or else!

bag of assholes

it's official.

i'm hungover as fuck.

i don't even know how i'm posting anything currently, as i should probably still be face down in my bed, unconscious.

what's your hangover cure?

a good friend of mine says his sure cure is:

chocolate milk, a hot shower and a jerk.

i prefer chugging 4 litres of water, popping mass pills (tylenol, multi-vitamins, ecstasy), eating rice and watching baseball.

speaking of which...the game's on.

so, fuck off and leave me alone.

i'm sorry, i didn't mean that...

but seriously, the game's on...

hit me on twitter.

choose wisely

which t-shirt is better?

if you said "the one on the right"

you're an idiot.

almost famous

one day i want to be famous enough to have my own letterhead.

i feel like that's the sign that you know you've made it really big.

personalized letterhead.

not your company bullshit - that's bush league.

personal - it's got my name on it and you know who it is without having to google that shit famous.

that's big league.

like:

alfred hitchcock

or, sammy davis jr.

or, john wayne

or, adolf hitler?

hmmm...

looks sharp, no?

for more: check out this crazy blog i found dedicated to random letterhead: http://www.letterheady.com

finish him!

See more funny videos and funny pictures at CollegeHumor.

i want to punch you in the face

episode: two

PEOPLE WHO THINK THEY'RE RIGHT ALL THE TIME

i hate you.

shut up.

these people make me want to sit in a running car in a small garage.

there's nothing worse that trying to have a conversation with these people...if you can even call it a conversation. because it's pretty much just them talking, then you trying to talk, then having them interrupt you to tell you you're wrong.

or how about, the rare chance you do get to articulate your thought/idea, and these people aren't even willing to accept your point of view, for the sake of the conversation, despite your agreement with theirs?

how does "no, you're wrong" (or other variations of "you're wrong") even prove your point to be correct, or mine incorrect?

am i just supposed to give up and say "good point...i do think i am wrong. you've provided me with ample evidence to disprove my theory, because you do, after all, know everything"?

go fuck yourself.

or instead of fucking yourself, just have a regular conversation with me and quit being a huge asshole, because you clearly don't know everything?

i know what you're thinking...

"does this mean you want to punch yourself in the face, because you think you're right all the time?"

the answer: no, because i'm actually always right. the other people who think they're always right, aren't actually always right, while i actually am. there's a clear difference, idiots.

quit questioning me.

this just in...

it's really hard to keep up with a blog during the summertime...

i'm currently accumulating many interesting thoughts and things that i most certainly want to share with you, however, i'm finding it difficult to sit down and make it happen.

i blame my drinking and sports addictions.

i should probably seek help.

until then, i'll leave you with this:

jersey shore: season 2 just started, so let's celebrate how shitty the show is with last season's most memorable moment:

i hope the entire cast drives off a cliff.

i want to punch you in the face

recently, i decided that i want to start compiling a list of people i want to punch in the face.

it started out as a potential "top 10" style list, however, i've changed my mind and decided to post them on the fly, as i think of them - as it would be much to difficult to rank the idiocy of each specific person, or type of person - and i'd rather not make one idiot feel better about themself because they were ranked higher than another idiot.

so, let's begin....

episode: one.

PEOPLE WHO WALK LIKE ASSHOLES IN PARKING LOTS

these pieces of shit can do a variety of asshole maneuvers...

like, walk diagonally across the road, which clearly takes longer than going straight across, but you wouldn't expect an idiot to know that.

don't worry, i'll wait here while you take your sweet ass time...

or how about the assholes who walk in the middle of the lane and are too retarded to notice that there's a fucking car behind them trying to get by.

you rev your engine, get real close, try to go around them, but for some reason they continue to not give a fuck.

i hope these people's families get abducted.

then there's the hybrid of the previous, which is even more frustrating...

they walk in the middle of the lane but then realize there's a car behind them, so they walk diagonally, not the shorter distance, but the longer one to the other side of the lane, whilst not even thinking about breaking into the "courtesy jog".

eat shit and live, assholes.

(yes, i said eat shit and live. why would i want them to eat shit and die? i'd feel better about my life knowing they have to live the rest of theirs knowing they ate shit)

**let's stop and talk, briefly, about this courtesy jog i speak of...

this act is certainly no faster than walking, however, it makes me feel like you're less of an asshole, because you're making an effort to make it seem like you're getting out of my way faster.

so, thank you to all those who actively exercise this practice.

for all those who look over their shoulder and keep walking like they don't give a shit...fuck you.

don't be surprised if i hit you with my car AND THEN punch you in the face.

anyways...you get the point...

and you for sure all know what i'm talking about.

also deserving of a punch in the face:

the cousins of people that walk like assholes in parking lots,

PEOPLE WHO WALK LIKE ASSHOLES ACROSS THE STREET!

have i ever told you the story of the time i hit someone with my car?

...to be continued...

is this real life?

i wish i could tell you this was fake...

but it's not.

it's an actual voicemail i received a week ago.

check it out:

tell me that shit isn't funny...i dare you.

the muppet show

mosquitoes make me want to shake babies.

dear anti-foggers,

you're idiots. i hate you. go die.

love, booya.

should i start this blog off with a question?

so, recently i found some sweet new music while lurking around on youtube.

pretty stoked, as i have been listening to so much old music lately, and it's kind of been getting...well...old.

anyways, i like this new music, so you should too...but, if for some reason you don't...

well...i don't care.

you should be honoured that i'm even sharing this with you jerks.

enjoy!

life in film is my favorite, i think.

home movies

do you like to party?

free fallin'

i recently went to see tom petty, in concert, with my mother...

this is the footage i was able to capture...until i got in trouble.

oops!

here's the setlist from that night:

also, noteworthy from the evening was the fight that broke out a section over from me.

apparently guy A didn't appreciate guy B standing in front of him during this wonderful rock concert, so guy A decided to grab guy B from behind and started beating the shit out of him.

the moral of the story: if someone is standing in front of you at a rock concert, while you are sitting and you can't see...stand up.

because, beating the shit out of the guy isn't going to improve your chances of viewing said concert, as it is difficult to see anything from the parking lot.

also, if you are healthy enough to beat someone up...you're probably strong enough to stand for a couple hours...so suck it up.

hope you enjoyed listening to your tom petty cd on the way home, idiot.

taste it

i like being the asshole, who parks like an asshole, next to the asshole, who originally parked like an asshole.

the goal: to make them feel like assholes for parking like an asshole.

the contingency: if they're simply idiots, and don't realize they're parking like an asshole, at least i've pissed them off by parking next to them, like an asshole.

say "asshole".

www.youparklikeanasshole.com

kentucky wildcats

with the nba draft just days away, let's check in with my boy john wall to see how he's getting prepared to be chosen first overall...

don't forget about the kid demarcus cousins either. he's goin top 5 for sure.

kentucky, what?!

tears of joy

soo...

i really, really, really love eye drops.

is that weird?

i love how it burns so good.

don't judge me.

dear italy,

i love your women and your fashion.

please send me both.

love, booya.xo

ralph lauren

the game of polo.

riding horses and smacking a ball around with a long mallet.

a devil of a good time, don't you think?!

absolutely sinful.

how about bicycle polo?

crazy bastards.

ps. fixed gear bikes scare the fuck out of me. i feel like i'd probably die while riding one. but they're still pretty neat.

wingdings

what type ARE you?

answer 4 simple questions that will help you drink from the font of self knowledge, face the truth and find out just which type you are.

it's that easy, ladies and gentleman.

all your life's queries answered here, on the internet.

i'm courier.

rational. understated. progressive. disciplined.

dj honda feat. black attack

say hello to the new school rodney mullen.

kilian martin.

know your roots:

rodney, keeping it un-real...

bonus footage:

the big piece of chicken

scroll to 3:46, or enjoy chris rock in all his bigger and blacker glory...

happy father's day

#worldcupmania

in case you didn't hear...

japan beat cameroon the other day.

just sayin...

LET'S GO BITE DICKSSS!!!

is this real life?

remember a while back i posted something about the mc10:35?

you ain't seen nothin yet!

fat people rejoice!

i give you...

the mcgangbang.

it appears to be a mcchicken stuffed in between a double cheeseburger...

mmmm...

a match made in heaven, don'tcha think?

buyer beware: this burger is extremely high in calories, so be sure to only pair it with a diet coke.

can i kick it?

what is it about new shoes that makes you wanna go out and party?

it's like something happens chemically in your brain that won't let you not party in your new shoes immediately after you've purchased them.

which is fine...but...

why is it that you always decide to go to the club, even though you know it's going to be packed and bananas and have them stepped on and probably get cranberry juice-ified? or you go to that sweet house party where you know they're going to be safe and stay clean, but for some reason everyone's outside chillin in a mud puddle and there's nothing you can do about it?

ruined immediately.

fuck.

which reminds me...what's the deal with clubs not letting people in with white shoes? this dress code has been in full effect for so many years now, and i still don't understand.

do my white shoes make me some sort of hoodlum?

what if i own the same shoes in black and white? will you allow me entrance only when i wear the black pair?

i get the track pants, jerseys, etc...that shit's obvious. you look like an idiot, no question.

but what is it about white shoes that makes entrance impossible?

i'll give anyone a dollar who can explain it, and have me buy into their explanation, cuz that shit is ridiculous.

anyways...

i just bought a pair of these beauties at boatshoes.com.

they came in the mail the other day.

cute, eh?

sooo...does anyone wanna party?

kool and the gang

new york city style

denim shirt.

slim khakis.

boat shoes.

no socks.

chillin.

love it.

flawless victory

how's everybody feeling today?

super!

so, i was recently "youtubing", and through my lurking around, i came across, what appears to be the trailer for the new mortal kombat movie.

very impressed, i must say...although i don't know how i feel about it not really following the actual story...

in any case, i'm more than likely going to go see it...and i'm more than likely going to enjoy it more than mortal kombat: annihilation.

ps. anyone who has seen that movie and liked it...is an idiot. and for those who haven't...don't.

to be honest, after watching the trailer and being reminded of said sequel, i decided to watch it again - because i couldn't remember why it was so shitty.

i was quickly reminded.

absolute shit.

to the point of embarrassment.

but whatever...nothing's worse than kazaam!

untitled 2

apparently writing about having writers block, helps eliminate writers block?

maybe?

maybe.

i'm back for now...

make yourself comfortable and enjoy your stay.

talk to you again soon.

currently listening to: let it be - the beatles

and the winner is...

go play in traffic, idiot.

what's with this half-tuck, 'hey look at me, i'm wearing a belt' phenomenon that's been lingering for the past handful of years? like....how is it still around?

first of all, you're an idiot.

second of all, you look like an idiot.

third of all, you paid $20 bucks for that piece of shit belt buckle at that shitty kiosk in the mall...quit being so proud of it.

even if you paid $200 for your blingy dolce and gabbana belt, you still look like an idiot...

there's no denying the fact, really.

so, are people continually complimenting you on your fashion sense? making you think that said fashion statement is 'cool'?

because i feel like these people should join you in a game of stickball in a busy intersection during rush hour.

take my advice: your ridiculous triple XL t-shirt/shitty sparkly ed hardy t-shirt/loserish hollister polo looks retarded half tucked into your oversized roca wear jeans/true religion boot cut jeans/khaki cargo shorts.

quit being an idiot. untuck that shit.

the L word

is david hasselhoff actually a lesbian?

you be the judge.

untitled

so this is writers block?

i've never really been required to maintain a high level of creativity in my spare time before, so i've clearly never had to deal with it. nor do i know how to get rid of it...
it's kind of weird. i decided to start this blog to enable myself to be creative on a semi regular basis, instead of letting my brain turn to mashed potatoes by watching tv and doing other mindless shit. i've even started teaching myself to play guitar around that time to help get the creative juices flowing.
it, clearly, proved to be an effective tool, as i came out of the gate quickly and was able to keep a steady pace. i felt inspired all the time.

however, over the past few weeks, i've felt nothing.
i've been busy with work, life and recently spent a week house sitting (where i had no wireless internet...which was brutal. i felt so distant and uncomfortable - it was weird. but, anyways...)
long story short - i feel uninspired. distracted, perhaps?
there doesn't seem like there's anything worth talking about or drawing attention to.
maybe it's because of all the rain and shitty weather? maybe i'm depressed? maybe i'm in love?
who knows...

i'll be back soon, don't worry.
until then, my friends...

<3 booya.xo

random song at the moment: you're ever so inviting - underoath


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what's the deal with old people?

so, i'm on the elevator in my apartment building just now and a nice old lady gets on.

she, of course, mentions how hot it is today...(old people love talking about the weather. it's science)
i say "i know! isn't it great?!"
she says "no! give me winter anyday"
shocked, all i manage to say is "oh wow, really?!"
she confirms her statement and i exit the elevator, baffled.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

HOW COULD THIS BE?!

WINTER OVER SUMMER?!
OLD PEOPLE LOVE BEING HOT!!!

HOW COULD SOMEONE PREFER WINTER?!

my mind is blown.

if you've ever been in my apartment during the winter months, you know what i'm talking about.
it's absurd.

i don't even have my heat on when it's -40 outside because the oldies have their thermostats cranked to the max...and it's STILL too hot! i've got fans going, windows open...yeah...ridiculous.

you'd figure they'd be in their glory during the summer.
i was almost certain old people kept their heat on in the summer to maximize the heat potential, because they love it so much.

guess i was wrong?

ok, let's recap:
old people love heat when it's cold, and cold when it's hot, but they want it to be cold so they can be hot?

i guess i'll never understand...

back to the drawing board.


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red bull and vodka

dear tom gaglardi,

welcome to winnipeg.
keep up the good work.

love, my liver.xo


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extra virgin olive

happy belated mother's day

dear cleveland,

your baseball team sucks.

your football team sucks too.

good thing you've got lebron and the cavs.

edit: 05.18.10 - apparently your basketball team sucks too? dagger. better luck next year!

hold the mayo

may the 4th be with you

sooooo...apparently it's international star wars day?


really?



really??



somebody told me about it today at work, and it was legitamately so ridiculous and unbelievable, i had to google it for proof.

[granted, you can't believe everything you read on the internet (except this blog. everything is 100% factual. guaranteed), but i investigated none-the-less]

so, apparently, may 4th is also called "luke skywalker day"?
what a heaping pile of retarded.


why is it that nerds have nothing better to do than play video games, blog, watch tv/movies, not bathe, surf the internet, and make up ridiculous shit to satisfy their nerdiness?

wait...blogging isn't nerdy is it?

fuck.

whatever.

check out conan o'brien's old friend, triumph the comedy insult dog, rip some star wars nerds to shreds...

enjoy,


nerds.

Sent from my BlackBerry® smartphone on the MTS High Speed Mobility Network

summertime rhyme

it's raining outside

the water makes me run and hide

i don't want to ruin my hair

for a snack i think i'll eat a pear

it's crisp and sweet

quite the delectable treat

now i'm sleepy and watching tv

quick like a butterfly and sting like a bee

the batteries in my remote don't work anymore.

hee haw

this kind of idiocy makes me want to punch women and children.

spoilers barely belong on regular, everyday cars.

what makes you think that spoilers make your truck more awesome?

if i told you eating glass would make you better looking, would you believe me too?

...because it does. you should try it.

fucking donkeys.

i was driving to work today and saw a certified donkey rolling around in a big truck with a stupid, gaudy spoiler.

i hope somebody slashed his tires.

enjoy your spaghetti.

a e i o u and sometimes y

shy, my, by, try, sky, why.

my sister says melk.

she's an idiot.

pretty sure she ate paint chips as a child.

dave matthews band

so much to say, so much to say, so much to say, so much to saaayy...

so little time.

thank you for your patience.

i'll be back soon <3

30's the new 20

happy 30th birthday, post-it notes.

you barely look a day over 18.

you must have very good genes.

remind me to wish you happy birthday next year.

dr. huckstable

i saw bill cosby live, back in 2004.

it was one of the coolest experiences of my life.

i told somebody about it earlier tonight - which reminded me of the awesomeness. so, i've decided that sharing this clip with all of you is the most ideal idea.

my fondest memory of the show was, without a doubt, his dentist bit.

i literally couldn't breath, i was laughing so hard.

it felt like i was being tickled......and the person tickling me wouldn't stop - but more awesome.

here's a clip from 1983 of him doing the very same bit that i saw him do 21 years later.

the video version is funny, but it's truely something else to see it live.

enjoy.

rest in beats

r.i.p. guru

this seems like a good time for a mass tribute...

can you find the random 6 degrees of separation among them?

big l

j dilla

baatin

big pun

o.d.b.

hmm...not sure where i should even begin?

well, big l was a member of d.i.t.c., which, fat joe, was also a member and fat joe and big pun were terror squad labelmates. big l's track, 'put it on' was produced by j dilla. j dilla was an original member of the group, slum village, in which baatin was also a member. dj premier, who was in the group, gang starr, with guru, produced big l's track, 'ebonics'. and, well, the super random, far fetched 6th degree, o.d.b...he was a member of the wu-tang clan, and raekwon, a current member, has sampled 3 of dilla's beats on his latest album...follow that? me neither. crazy innit?

the great debate

cast your vote.

or die!

cuz diddy said so.

i love bottled water

happy earth day, hippies.

as seen on tv

i really feel like this needs no introduction...

your welcome.

ps. god bless snl

me first and the gimme gimmes

is the greatest cover band in the history of the league.

but here are some fun bbc 1 live lounge covers for you to enjoy:

example covers ke$ha

asher roth covers black eyed peas

more asher, because i think he's neat.

hugs! hugs! hugs! hugs!

friendship! friendship! friendship! friendship!

it's better to be safe than sorry

you wouldn't want to fuck up the most important day of your life, would you?

you're welcome.

black cargo pants

john mayer, battle studies tour memoirs

these blogs are making me thirsty

thirsty for music!

i just spilled my gatorade.

everywhere.

itunes shuffle 10?

ok.

147) lovin' it - little brother

148) cazual drinking - classified

149) burn - mobb deep

150) so ghetto - jay z

151) phony rappers - a tribe called quest

152) killing time - no use for a name

153) we've had enough - alkaline trio

154) yesterday's feelings - the used

155) nothing better - the postal service

156) ey yey yey - the afterbeat

bonus) jefferson airplane - relient k

bounty, the quicker picker upper.

glow in the dark bikini

well, friends...

summer is fast approaching, and without a doubt, you're all very much looking forward to getting your tan on.

i know i am.

i'm paler than robert pattinson right now.

that being said, please do us all a favour, and mind your tan lines.

there's nothing worse than a haggard farmer tan...

is that mike watson??

you get the point...

see you at the beach.

magnetic, like refrigerator poetry

it's pretty cool when you google someone in your family, and this is what you find:

poems by: my cousin, david bruzina

(i just call him boku)

read his bio belowww...

distance

When I see my friends in a different field,
I wave to them and they wave back,
but what we shout is so strange to hear,
the wind seems to carry the import of our words
to someone somewhere else.

We’re left grinning and waving, then—
because we have companions who, impatient,
want to go on with the walk and conversation—
we have to go on, almost without choosing to,
almost without noticing

this thing we’re lightly driven to do.
We look back—at whom we saw and let walk on
in a field in the evening with different companions,
remembering (as if seeing old neighborhoods
beneath their changes): someone

we once knew remaining and remaining, no matter
how long we walk and how often we look
back—until whoever’s walking with us stops
and demands we catch up, physically and in thought,
and, because that’s what we owe, we do.

poem with frogs

In a room with windows in each of four walls, a young man props his feet on the table.
The apple trees rattle.
The wind moves in waves past the garden
where okra and lettuce lie bent and bruised from the rain.

Where tomatoes and melons lie rotting.
Where the man lies rotting with wasps in his eyes.
Where nothing lies.

In a room with windows in each of four walls, a young man lies sprawled on a blanket, dreaming of frogs.
He bathes at night in a pond by a slippery elm, singing,
take them take me home foggy home froggy home.

The room has windows in two of four walls.
There are no crickets. No one sings.
Frogs troop through the fields riding the backs of iron turtles.
The apple trees snap in the high wind, split and lie down.

There is no room. No one is sleeping.
The apple trees lie like weeds in the yard.
A man sits with his hand on a calendar, turning the pages.
There is no pond.

He stands on the threshold watching the rain. There is no roof.
The crickets are singing.
The crickets are quiet.
The crickets have huge eyes.

He patches the roof and sleeps beneath it,
plants a field of melons by the pond.

There are no frogs.
He sits in a field of rain where turtles rust, says they will be waiting they
will wait forever by the river’s mud.

There are no turtles.

In a room without windows, a man sits with his thumbs in his eyes, says
I remember ribbons of dust.

There is no rain.

Says we will be found with flowers tucked behind our ears.

Says I still remember another spring
the slow wring of cast iron tears
bells in the morning seeking the blind
among tin thimbles of frost left on the hills
and trash piles burning in their little
hollows among the pines.

There were no pines.
There is no man.
The crickets remember nothing.

the division

Because I was the paper boy,
I knew when everyone was
and wasn’t in town.

I stole for fun and for the small
heavy objects I could tell
wouldn’t be missed for a long while.

The looking in ticking rooms,
the discrete rummaging
in strangers’ closets and garages

in the early mornings
of the neighborhood
I kept for myself.

I gave my girlfriends cameras.
I gave my father power tools.
I gave my mother a stained glass watch.

chomp

Escaped from God’s hidden zoo,
hunger takes up residence in you,
nibbling your patience, siphoning pride,
enjoying the warm wet conditions inside.

You tried to stop it (but were too slow).
You shouted for God (as if God didn’t know).
Now, you unclench and allow it to slither and shudder.
You feed it like a cow feeds its own udder.

If God had wanted his hunger back,
he needed to have split it from its snack
before I grew so fond of His pet
and it grew fond of me in secret.

Now, however, we’re a single creature,
neither it nor I, no student, no teacher.
Apologies, Boss, if there’s been a miscue.
There’s nothing left in this house to rescue.

q&a

q&a

source: fishousepoems.org.

"David Bruzina Ph.D. - In 2006, he held a postdoctoral fellowship at Ohio University having completed his PhD in American Literature and Creative Writing there the previous year. He also holds an MA in Philosophy from Virginia Tech, an MFA in Poetry from UNC-Greensboro and a BA in English, Philosophy and Sociology from Macalester College. From 2001-2004, he directed the Gathering Place Writing Project, which involved clients of Athens County (Ohio) Mental Health Services in the local literary community. In the summers, he continues to teach in, and direct, the "Area II" Critical Thinking and Intellectual History division of the North Carolina Governor's School (West).

A dedicated generalist with interests ranging from Southern fiction and contemporary poetry to literary theory and the history of philosophy, Dr. Bruzina enjoys exploring the relationships between literary or theoretical texts and first person extracurricular experiences.

Dr. Bruzina's poems have appeared in a number of journals, including StorySouth, Cultural Logic, From the Fishouse, Third Coast and the Greensboro Review. He has recently finished his first book manuscript and hopes it will appear in print soon. His short review (of USCA faculty member) Roy Seeger's first book The Boy Whose Hands Were Birds is forthcoming from the International Poetry Review."

source: university of south carolina aiken, faculty website.

i love my family.