upon the leaving of Lars' residens

[mudshark]

Upon leaving Lars’ house on Saturday, as I randomly and apparently without a clue had come kicking at his door, I remembered why I came.
It was for the hell of it.

It was because he didn’t expect no one to come. Matter of fact, no one expected anyone to come anywhere last Saturday night. We had a baby blizzard. And it was the cold kind. Snow flying everywhere, couldn’t look up straight and shit. I was glad I wore a blue coat. The nasty thing reached high. And though the plows where out rooming the streets, they ran out of fuel and willpower. Shit flying everywhere. It was a baby blizzard, I thought. I’d never heard about one.

Now, I stood there on his stairs and saw what the world had become, a traceless path for a desert lion. For my traces where brushed away, no not brushed, they where covered, as if I’d never… anyway, it was all a hole lot of nothing. Nothing but me. In a blue coat.
I was there to copy this new shit that had come to light. The cassette he found of our old band, Hobo and the bad backs.
And now ihad to cross town again. it’s a small town.
Took me 45 minutes to go home. If id go directly. In between was the Saturday night.

I had’nt had a drink all day. I thought I deserved one.
Well, to make a story shorter, or indeed to make a story good.
Ill skip the part when I sat down in the pub called the night train and ordered up a ice cold San Miguel. Thing is this guy sitting next to me.
I didn’t recognize him, so I didn’t talk to man. that’s what we do in ma town. Or don’t.
After a half an hour I said: du er ikke herfra vel?
Im sorry, he said, I don’t speak Norwegian.
Oh, I said. I said “your not from around here, are ya”?
Im from Austria, the young fella replied.
Been here long?
A month.
How many has spoken to you?
You’re the first.
And that’s how it is here. I met people at pubs here whos been sittn around for three years without anybody talking to them.
I scared the fucking daylight out of grown men by offering them a toast all of a sudden. And its all men. All the lonely men.
So I gave him my scarf. The black and yellow. Explained shit to him about the presence of the population. Dude was 21. Worker. I took him to my regular pub to see some real people. Met my mates. And they told him all about me. So now where in ma livin room, cause he wanted to listen to this german music we’ve made. And he wanted a reefer and I couldn’t bare to see him like that. Hooking up with the nastys to get a fair deal.
So we stumbled through the weather and it was just 10 minutes away. I served some cocations and layed it on him.
And like he said: I never thought id be sitting in a living room in this town listening to a norweigian band playing German songs about Commissary Derrick drinking a cocasion and feeling… at home.

Who the fuck brings home a dude on a Saturday night when the bedroom fresh and clean and all ready to go?
fucking hell. The shit I do for this town.

[Arcadia]

Took me 45 minutes to go home. If id go directly. In between was the Saturday night. this made me smile!

I never thought id be sitting in a living room in this town listening to a norweigian band playing German songs about Commissary Derrick drinking a cocasion and feeling… at home. and this sounded complicated!

nice writing mudshark!!!!!!!

[justwalt]

Another day...er, night in the life...the best part bein' the trip on the
randomly chosen guest's head. Good Samaritan award, man. I have
to say, the like's happened to me, and I return the favor if possible.

walt

[mtmynd]

very funny piece of writing, muddy. i enjoyed it but i'm puzzled by this drink, cocasion... what is it? it sounds delicate with a harsh aftertaste.

[mudshark]

very funny piece of writing, muddy. i enjoyed it but i'm puzzled by this drink, cocasion... what is it? it sounds delicate with a harsh aftertaste.

oh, the cocasion, cecil is about the only drink i can have because of my a painful and burning sensation in the esophagus, just below the breastbone usually associated with regurgitation of gastric acid. so its no wiskey forme. no absinths anymore.
the Cocasion name comes from the colour of the drink though its real name is White Russian. vodka, kahlua, half&half (or milk)

and while youre listening, Cec:
today is the day when you go rent a movie called " the Big Lebowski".
do it. and come back.

[mudshark]

thank you Arcadia and walt.
thanx for listening.

[Lightning Rod]

witty piece shark

you have a great knack for the yarn

(have you listened to any of these tunes? They are mine. If you have a use for any of them let me know. I'll give you the rights....haha.

http://studioeight.tv/LR/The%20Book.html

just click on the titles to hear the recording)

[mudshark]

won't open! im telling you, I cant hear. how annoying. is it some strange or hazy program I need to innstal?

damn. (we ehre supposed to have a flute-guy on the Proclamation song, but he never showed up. and i got very pissed off by that, cause a long flute really woulda tied the song toghether.

maybe your on myspace or some shit?
then again... maybe not.

[mudshark]

witty piece shark

you have a great knack for the yarn

(have you listened to any of these tunes? They are mine. If you have a use for any of them let me know. I'll give you the rights....haha.

http://studioeight.tv/LR/The%20Book.html

just click on the titles to hear the recording)

man i mm calling from work, here now.
my machine wont do it for me at all, so now i m listening to your stuff from this little hide away behind the warehouse; our coffe room, the shed.
the speakers are ridiculous, but i mamaged to hear the mood of it all. the mushroom man is vivid and playfull. no reagge in texas! lovely.

ok here comes the man.

[Lightning Rod]

glad you got to listen shark
the proper place to listen to my music is in the shed....haha

Maybe at home you could try downloading Quicktime

I was thinking that My Chapeau would be a good tune for your band

[mudshark]

yes. My chapeau is a good song for my band.
i ll rip it apart for you.