MY CAR MY LIFE MY CARD

My car.My life.My card....

effin car. i loved you like no other man could love you..and this is how you treat me...or rather....is it my fault...for being the non caring distant man that ive been told that i am by so many others...the neglect ive shown you....shit...i guess its my fault..and to think this whole time i thought you were the problem in our relationship...but really it was just me...ive been lying to myself the whole time....so...ill take you out for a nice oil change and tune up. and fix your water pump...because im kinda like a pimp in all reality...and i gotta have my baby looking nice.


i drank beer for the first time in a month or so. let be clarify....i told my self that beer is just no good anymore....i mean...when youre drinking the bourbon and diets (or as i like to call them the b&dc...and ive actually used that on some bartenders and they said ive coined the phrase and i should copyright it) you know...you are kinda hydrating while getting pissed (if i may sound british). plus the ice....in the drink is preventing a hang over.....beer....its no good it dehydrates you like a mutha....but last night i blew it...am i disaapointed in myself...no...

onto more pressing issues....i was riding home this morning with my friend jimmy or as i like to call him filet men james...we were discussing politics and what not...and well...i mean....hes a pretty staunch dem and just has this crazy notion of what republicans are....and i kinda got a little uptight about it...but then i thought about my first impression of dems...and..well needless to say...i came to the conclusion that i hate politics...

but what if....i ran for congress....and then had a website set up where everyone in my district could submit their vote on certain house bills...then i would go be the voice of the people....i dont think i stand a chance against mr geoff davis.

MY CAR MY LIFE MY CARD

Ever feel like youve been cheated?

Ever been out drinking on bardstown road and suddenly someone yells out..lets go to phoenix hill.....yer half drunk and you actually think that all of okolona and fairdale's finest might actually work out for you tonight...after all you're from the highlands...and in most cases you don't associate with the type of people that actually go to a bar to see a cover band play let the bodies hit the floor...but tonight you do....you go because one of your drunk friends keeps whispering it in your ear....why not....after all you are sitting at the tap room staring at the same twelve people that go there all the time.... before i go any further....the bullshit going on with the cover bands at phoenix hill is amazing...people really get excited about going to see a band do other peoples songs.....you should just stop listening to music. people who play in cover bands either do it for the money or have no creative bone in their body.....both reasons are laughable.....the main reason im a musician is because i hate money. and i like o write songs about sex and drinking. upon entering and after paying the 10 dollar cover....you realize you made the biggest mistake of your life....after all you dont talk to women...you wait for them to talk to you....well...take a look at your clothes....if its not preston highways approved....and you know what i mean...you might as well go sit in the parlor and lay your head down on the bar and hope you can at least get your ten dollars worth of fun back....ever think about why those goons over at penis thrill and the wrinkle room have covers? its not like you are providing some sort of atmosphere that i cant get down off of manslick road or national turnpike. so...youre hanging out in the parlor room of the ultimate night club experience known as phoenix hill tavern....and where is youre friend that begged you to go....little did you know...he had a secret plan to meet some chicks up there.he already bounced....good news is..you can walk home...bad news is all the people that will see you coming out of phoenix hill will now know you arent as "highlands as you wanted everyone to think you are". so....the fucking bars dont close till four....its only 11:30...youve been drinking since 4 pm....there is still some hope to at least maybe get a chick to let you take her home and at least let her take a peak at your wiener through the hole in your boxers.....so you head over to flanigans....then you realized you are 29 dressed in an outfit you bought from kohls. everyone else is 21-24 and still thinks its cool to actually get dressed up to go out drinking...might as well be a presidential banquet....not to mention the six dollar pint of newcastle you bought.....you pound it down....walk out and cross thre street to go to molly malones....ha....they wont even let you in unless you got a tie on and went to st x.....you went to Highview baptist. damn.......osheas....where you run into your ex girlfriend and all her friends....this is the ex girlfriend you just dont want yo see anymore...but you really cant escape her.....well you could if you werent drunk and didnt goto osheas....youre drunk and you tell her how much youve changed....youre doing yoga now and youve cut back on your drinking alot....she points out the newcastle stain on your pseudo-western shirt by sonoma you boughtat kohls for 13 bucks.....you walk out the patio without saying goodbye to her....she was with some other dude anyways....he had a lacoste shirt on....you werent gonna win that one. you cross the street to wicks...then realized you hate hip hop and white rappers from dixie highway who rap about the mean streets of prp and valley station.... walking up bardstown road you run into some friends from high school...they are heading to the back door....the straightest gay bar in louisville...i mean the name is after all....the back door.....you go order a couple rum and cokes..the bartender cuts you off...youre having too good of a time he said....and you look drunk....you really arent that drunk... time to catch that cab to the mag bar....gotta try to score an alt rock chick....youve never really had one and in the back of your head you keep telling yourself..."man...i listen to rancid and fugazi....and ..shit i used to play drums in sltt and pinewood derby.....these chicks should be all over me" youre six foot three with blonde hair...you look like you just got off of football practice...slapping on an elliot t shirt doesnt make you indie.... you walk in greeted by the smell of piss....after all punks dont pee in the toilet...so...you walk in and deja vu hits because the juke box in playing the same refused song as the last time you were there....everyone is quiet....and looking down at their drinks in shame...realizing...they are in their mid to late thirties and shouldnt have gotten their arms sleeved...some...are even trying to figure out a way to reconnect with their moms and dads...maybe theyll pay to have the rebellion removed from their arms....you drink a couple and take a cab back to the tap room...because after all....the tap room is perhaps the best bar in louisville. no pretentious people there like a certain bar down the street starting with a c. the tap room....is the best bar in louisville.