Saturday, February 28, 2009

Typewriter Ramble #1

Thanks to Dylan, who recently offered to give me a typewriter he had sitting around from some suburban garage sale many years back, I have acquired a typewriter. I guess Facebook truly can be a good social networking tool. I posted something to the effect, "John Purcell wants to get a typewriter," as my Facebook status. Shortly later Dlyan offered the gift. Who would've thunk it? I certainly didn't, but, thanks again!

Besides a new ribbon and maybe some small maintance it should be really set. I am not sure how to get the musty smell off it though. Even the paper I typed onto reeks of this musty smell. It is not the worst smell, though, kinda homey.

After a Gonzo Imperial Porter, Miller High Life and two White Russians (with extra vodka) I sat down with the typewriter at Dylan's house while other friends conversed around me. I am not sure what exactly I was going to write when I sat down, but I just wanted to nail out something. Whatever the typewriter made me feel — for better or worse.

This made me think that I might have certain reoccuring posts just be whatever I ramble out on the typewriter. Hence the name for this post, "Typewriter Ramble #1," so maybe there will be more in the future, but here is the first.

You have no heart ... he is the golden boy of your sick shit.

What does the boy want from his father? The golden goose of sincerity that grows under his father's pathetic job of regret. The man said yes to his offer, for he had nothing to hide from his son. He gave him the gold he desired and he didn't shed a tear. He was only full of hope for the future of his family — he could not see the scum bubbling into his mouth. Yes, the scum does rise.

Saturday, February 21, 2009

The Journalist's Drug

I feel in love with this video the first time I saw it. This one goes out to all the coffee drinkers out there...let us hope we don't slip into a coffee paranoia.

le Café - Oldelaf (english subtitles)
Uploaded by Boebis

Monday, February 16, 2009

You Gotta Feel It Man

"Some days I just really feel like a journalist." -Me

That was something that just really got me thinking. Why do I feel more like a journalist on certain days? Does it have to do with something that happened to me? Is there something that angered or frustrated me? Does it have to do with what I have been reading or watching? Maybe it is what I choose to wear? Could it really just be in the coffee?

Hunter S. Thompson really sparks me, I do know that. It always helps to read/study/observe those you idle. Although, I do not want to be the next Hunter S. Thompson. That would be pretty foolish...cause who the fuck could really be him, shit!

Well, whatever the answer is, maybe a mixture of them all, it seems I just feel more like a journalist at certain times. I have been falling further and further into becoming my major — which I hope you know after that long rant — journalism. I am finding myself welcoming and embracing the thought of being a journalist. I guess I am getting the feeling that I have chosen what is right for me. My biggest fear is that I am not going to amount to something on a grand scale. Not that I want to be famous, I don't feel that is really the word I would be going for, nor what I am striving for. "Famous" seems to involve a lot of dirty, shoe licking and puss sucking. Being well known, or at least well respected within a certain group, is all I really am striving for.

"Book people drink tea — Journalists drink coffee...and sometimes alcohol."

I feel like that quote is probably a mixture of a few real quotes. I like to think I added the "and sometimes alcohol" to the quote first, but who knows. I am still amazed how the "old school" journalist could pound down coffee during the day and pound down their liquor even harder at night. Yeah, and this is like every day.

"I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they've always worked for me." - Hunter S. Thompson