The UnTexan

MY BIRTHDAY, MY TATTOO

Today is my birthday. And I have a new tattoo. Actually it is my first tattoo.It was a gift from my wife. It looks great. And I don't have to worry about how it will look when I get older. I am older. My mother
always told me that only trashy people had tattoos, but she said lots of things that have not turned out
to be true. And so far I have not detected any urges to engage in trashy behavior or go live in a trailer park. In fact, the only urge I have felt so far is the urge to get another tattoo.

Why a wheelbarrow? Because of this poem by William Carlos Williams called "The Red Wheelbarrow" that first appeared under the title "XXII" in a book called Spring and All. The book and the poem changed lots of things for me and have remained important for many years. I think anyone who wants to write should read Spring and All. Here is the poem:

"so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens."

It is what it is, just like my tattoo.

A FRIDAY TOAST TO THURSDAY'S DEAD

Here's to Michael's face and Farrah's butt
and to an America that's utt
erly drowning in this freaky stuff -- it's a glut -- but
can't get enough of Michael's face and Farrah's butt.

TELEVISION NEWS: THIS JUST IN AGAIN AND AGAIN

Anna Nicole is still dead

And Britney has shaved her head

And an astronaut drove really far

A woman, wearing a diaper, in a car,

With a wig, a steel mallet and some tubing,

A B-B gun, pepper spray and a yearning

To confront her rival

(But was she really her rival?)

For the affections of astronaut Billy-O

(That’s what Lisa called him, her Billy-O)

She drove 900 miles to Orlando

And said she did it not quite for love, no.

Whatever it was, when she got there

She put on her wig to cover her hair

Then stepped out of her car

And went much too far

When with pepper spray in hand

She spritzed the rival for her man and

Was jailed

For trying

To kill her.

Oh Anna Nicole is a corpse

But Britney’s still with us of course

Her pudendum (and then some) was news

The Internet tallied the views

Now nearly everyone has seen it

And seen it and seen it and seen it

So Britney’s cut off all her hair

She’s bald as Sinead but who cares?

She’s already showed us her bottom

And I mean ALL of her bottom

Now she’s a bald twit with a twat

and tattoos. So what?

She’ll have to do better than that.

(We’re bored)

Sinead did it better than that

Anna Nicole is still dead

And Britney has shaved her head

The astronaut made bail

And got out of jail

But Anna Nicole is still dead

This just in

'I': A POEM FOR STEPHANIE KLEIN

(The following is constructed from fragments of reader responses to a single Stephanie Klein blog post entitled double negatives about not being pregnant – again. Most of them depend on the word “I” as most responses to S. Klein do. And the red wheel barrow? It just depends.)

SK IS NOT PG

Every time I read your posts about pregnancy...

I can’t help but understand you…

i know it doesn't help you...but i understand.

I always get this from your blog, and from other readings of yours

 

I've only ever commented once before and it was the same thing I'm going to say now.

But like I and others have said before,

I have to reiterate

because I read your blog all the time

and what you write always makes my day feel I've felt

-- interesting.

I can identify with your feelings and nothing irritates me more

 

Will you ever cease bitching and garnering sympathy from strangers?

You've been pregnant before. You'll do it again.

Believe me -- I do it on a monthly basis!

 

I’m sorry –

I’m trying to say, I understand

I’ve felt a millimeter

(My husband and I are "repoductively challanged")

 

Have you tried one of those electronic ovulation predictors?

I have friends that swear by them.

I have a love/hate feeling for those kinds of dreams.

All I can do is offer a sympathetic ear

 

I found out I was pregnant about a week after my husband and I went on a wine tasting tour.

And I happened to be much tighter at the beginning of my pregnancy.

Worked for me twice

That's how I got my Tukey Pie.

That's how I got my Tukey Pie.

 

When I stop obsessing

(I could

I am

I like

i got

I'm sorry

I only read

I can

I have been

I have

I guess

I missed

I'm just curious

I wish

I hope

I know

I am)

My reasons are sound

 

When I stop obsessing about something

that's when I get what I want

without telling my mother

although. Everything is relative.

my mother

your father

my Tukey Pie

the Period Fairy

a red wheel

barrow.

 

I've never taken a pregnancy test

I could never decide which one was best.

it's no consolation.