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Pungsnotded » Wilie Nelson

Wilie Nelson


My first order of business today was to look up at the sky. There was a sun peeking out of the clouds. The dreary weather can do one of two things to me.

It can make me go a little “Nazareth”. If you don’t know what going “Nazareth” is, then you have never broken up with someone and went driving around in the pouring down rain, wallowing in your own emptiness. I do not have the time or the bandwidth to explain how damn hot this lead singer is. I am sure that sweaty embroidered blouse smells as delicious as every depressing high school relationship I ever had! We are not going to talk about the drummer, either.

Sometimes, I listen to this song because it is SO depressing that it flips my mood into giggly. This song by the Swans has the same effect. Incidentally, the newest Swans album is UNREAL and needs to be played more. But I don’t have time to go on about that, either.

If a million rainy days in a row don’t make me go “Nazareth” then they have another effect. They make me feel fancy and french. I have never been to France. I imagine it is always rainy. And fancy! Maybe because the only thing I know about France came from French New Wave Films and Pepe Le Pew Cartoons. I lived with a girl from France one summer, she didn’t speak much English, I spoke NO French. Besides the fact that she hated the smell of bacon cooking, it may have been my best relationship ever. I don’t have time to explain that either.

I have to be on my way now! BECAUSE, today I am sewing a Robe. It gets chilly on Willie Nelson’s tour bus, so it is a mandatory item! The best part is that it will have skulls on it and two pockets for 2 happy beers! Happy Thrush-day everybody!

Untitled

There is a god, maybe many of them. Somewhere along the lines of human existence one of these gods spawned forth a Willie Nelson. It matters not, how he got here, just that he is here. He is here for me.

Willie Nelson is the god of calm. No matter how hectic, stressful, erratic and crazy my life becomes, my moment of “count to ten” is always Willie Nelson. The calm that radiates from the soul of that beautiful man is more than weed and voice. I can’t sing and I don’t smoke.

Willie is a gorgeous example of what happens when a human just chills the fuck out. In my mind, he walks into a room and life stands still. No road rage, no sadness, no Rush Limbaugh.

Willie Nelson has been there for me. I want him to visit my home. I want to sit on the front porch and watch cars drive by, while we drink cold Miller Lites from a cooler sitting between us. I want to walk through the woods with him while the light changes into the yellowish hue of a 1970’s photograph. Not that Instagram bullshit either, the real thing. The crosshatch texture, the smell, the carpet and beer cans, cigarettes lit in the ashtrays, the real 1970’s in a photograph. Willie Nelson and I will have a slumber party and wear our flannel pajamas and drink strawberry soda and eat M&Ms while watching the Flintstones. Imagine falling asleep under a quilt, outside, staring up at the sky with a fire beside you and Willie Nelson playing guitar and singing beside you. There are a million miles to go in the morning but that moment is so calm. Thank you, Willie Nelson.

May you all have a beautiful Willie Nelson Day!


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