Davi Marra (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} thisisdavi) wrote,@ 2008-06-23 19:08:00 |
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weakened < weekend
Swimming in recollections as we swam in the muck and murk at Corey Beach. Basking in images as we basked under the gloom-intensified sun. Feeding on replayed sensations as we fed ourselves on the perpetual back-yard barbecue. We smiled and laughed from start to finish. We ate and snoozed and farted and ate some more. Our bodies were our bodies and not only mannequins. We ballooned. We snored. We scraped and burnt ourselves. We roasted and cooled and we showered and grimed ourselves. We ran sat sighed smoked smiled munched tumbled dove and cuddled all over that fucking place and if our paths were scissor-swaths we'd've left it all in tatters.
We charged our batteries under sun and on top of soft surface. We pillowed our bodies and our psyches. We familied ourselves. We birthed a vernacular. As in OH MY GOD and OH SHIT. We took the world and made it an inside joke and so conquered it with our asses firmly planted in lawn furniture. We ate beef while conquering the world - call us Angus Khan. We slept in and took naps while conquering the world - call us Alexander the Sedate. My mouth gave nothing but kisses and puns the whole time and never have both been received with such tremendous and equal enthusiasm.
Her family's outta this fuckin' world. Dad's a bruiser with a heart of gold. Mom's a gorgeous sweetheart with a barely hidden wicked streak. Brother's precociously sharp and smart with a barely hidden enormous heart. Then there's Jake the luggiest dopiest happiest laziest old golden retriever that ever put paw to pavement. And let's not forget the talking cat.
The weekend was a dizzying cavalcade of visiting friends and family but never once was I made to feel an outsider, only a part of the family through and through. This kind of warmth and hospitality I'm thinking doesn't come without there should be some rampant swearing and smoking. Without gallons of coffee and cartons of cigarettes should be consumed and voices should be raised higher than the pitch of a hundred Long Island mothers chattering about RVs at yard sales.
You raise a ruckus to bring everything out of its inert, unassimilable, irreconcilable state and into the roaring synchronicity of total chaos.
Duh.
We totally had us a weekend this weekend.
Swimming in recollections as we swam in the muck and murk at Corey Beach. Basking in images as we basked under the gloom-intensified sun. Feeding on replayed sensations as we fed ourselves on the perpetual back-yard barbecue. We smiled and laughed from start to finish. We ate and snoozed and farted and ate some more. Our bodies were our bodies and not only mannequins. We ballooned. We snored. We scraped and burnt ourselves. We roasted and cooled and we showered and grimed ourselves. We ran sat sighed smoked smiled munched tumbled dove and cuddled all over that fucking place and if our paths were scissor-swaths we'd've left it all in tatters.
We charged our batteries under sun and on top of soft surface. We pillowed our bodies and our psyches. We familied ourselves. We birthed a vernacular. As in OH MY GOD and OH SHIT. We took the world and made it an inside joke and so conquered it with our asses firmly planted in lawn furniture. We ate beef while conquering the world - call us Angus Khan. We slept in and took naps while conquering the world - call us Alexander the Sedate. My mouth gave nothing but kisses and puns the whole time and never have both been received with such tremendous and equal enthusiasm.
Her family's outta this fuckin' world. Dad's a bruiser with a heart of gold. Mom's a gorgeous sweetheart with a barely hidden wicked streak. Brother's precociously sharp and smart with a barely hidden enormous heart. Then there's Jake the luggiest dopiest happiest laziest old golden retriever that ever put paw to pavement. And let's not forget the talking cat.
The weekend was a dizzying cavalcade of visiting friends and family but never once was I made to feel an outsider, only a part of the family through and through. This kind of warmth and hospitality I'm thinking doesn't come without there should be some rampant swearing and smoking. Without gallons of coffee and cartons of cigarettes should be consumed and voices should be raised higher than the pitch of a hundred Long Island mothers chattering about RVs at yard sales.
You raise a ruckus to bring everything out of its inert, unassimilable, irreconcilable state and into the roaring synchronicity of total chaos.
Duh.
We totally had us a weekend this weekend.
