he didntnever really follow the lyrics to songs  and typically if he did he didnt sing the right wordsthough to be fair  over the cacophony of throbbing guitars licks ferocious drumbeats it was hard to hear the words   then music for him was about the instruments the players  

                               Deacon Blues: drink Scotch whisky all night long   he thought the words were drink Jack whiskey all night long/and die behind the wheel                                  

but then he drank Jack Daniels so he would  wouldnt he.

he dug that Steely Dan shared his rousing affinity for the Beat Generation 

their name was short thrift of Burroughs over-sized steam-powered dildo Steely Dan III from Yokohama from his Naked Lunch

      an shame on any fuckin soul who hadnt cracked and breezed on it or dug in and read it in its the entirety  dug its twisted stratospheric hilarity

                          that said as a child he found Jack ‘n Jill hilarious too  and ludicrous

Jack ‘n Jill went up the hill to fetch a pail of water

Riiight

Sure they did

Jack ‘n Jill werent a tango step ahead of Dick ‘n Jane: “Look, Jane./Look, look./See Dick./See,see./Oh, see./See Dick.”  See Dick run See Jane run See Dick stop See Jane stop to see Dicks dick

A school primer? 

                                  

he often wondered if his mom and dad knew Dick and Jane and Sally and Spot were taught

those tales were among many wrong reasons he devoutly revered Taft Elementary School  grades K through 8th

  

That was appropriatehuh

 

                      nevertheless  this musing isnt so much about Steely Dan a dildo Dicks dick as it was about his relish of Irish Whisky(whisky: the missing “e” applies only to spirits distilled outside Kentucky or Tennessee -- Tennessee  a states name he refused to spell correctly -- he spelt it Tenneessee – an only for the fact that its doubled letters tickled him – for the same reason he spelt bookkeeping bookkeeppiinngg – he didnt have to spell it correctly for someone to grasp his intent his jest – anif his teachers wouldnt follow his humour he was adamant an refused to correct their obvious misspelling to save a miserable point or two against his academic grade – he assessed his grades were arbitrary  illegitimate  they were essentially only relative when used against the measure of an archaic standard that preceded his birth and which utterly magnificently refused his input or query – WHY would he submit to anything which despotically refused to account for his perception)

imbibing Irish whisky began as a lark  an joyful companiona congenial playmate to be nearer the story and share the disposition of the sumptuous characters who acted in Netflixs Peaky Blinders

                                                             an shame on any fuckin soul who hadnt tuned in to relish or consume the entirety of its thoroughly entertaining historical fiction based on the real Irish Peaky Blinders gang that evolved in England at the end of First World War

his Irish of choice became Clontarf as recommended by a visiting Irishman  Or Powers

Not Jameson

Not Jameson

The people drink Clontarf or Powers

while Clontarf duly became his choice while watching Peaky he also began having its companionship with his black coffees in the morning while he wrote sipped it with afternoon beers sipped it at night as he entertained his online politicals

they became fast buddies

he slept well

           he dreamt in technicolour in black and white in text in words inside balloons that floated out of speakers mouths he dreamt he was a poor caricature as was everyone and everything else inside cartoon illustrations he dreamt in stop-action dreamt of static images(coloured black ‘n white sepia) with voiceovers dreamt of labyrinths and was joyous he inside one because somehow he knew he was always going to find his way out

was he concerned he drank too much

it crossed his mind

but what also crossed his mind was that the Irish was a type of hybrid oil that wetted and loosened his gears and cams and donts and cants and winked and nodded to the riots he confided

it also crossed his mind that most of the films he watched were foreign and subtitled that he wrote at least six hours a day that he read while he walked and all of which could also lend a hand or credence to his dreamy night processions

and reasoned  that one time  drinking too much never again crossed his mind

Clontarf was as excellent a confidante as his partner

Mmumm(doubled letters  and a champagne) was the word

0022,  Twosday,  5  9. 17 (Walter Becker 67 died yesterday Labor Day)

1330,  Twosday,  5  9. 17

Steely Dan  Deacon Blues  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jamkS4qoXK8