It made me want to write a portrait of Green Drew. He was pretty excited about Gummo, when it came out. We tried to watch it together back then. He also insisted I listen to modest mouse and sigur ros, which I liked a lot better. He gave me some vivid memories. We listened to aegyptus byrun and moon and antartica, blazing in this black 89 camry, in his front yard, on a spring day, surrounded by blue sky and flitting clouds and budding trees and shrubs. He also made me watch his own movies. The two that I remember were a ceiling fan with a loose light bulb, and a scene of two lovers yelling at each other from either side of a train track as a freight train approached and passed loudly inbetween, then more arguing, then anotehr train and so on for several trains, until eventually one train passed and the girl wasnt there anymore. drew convinced me to learn to play tool songs, off of aenima, and although our band never took off, we did release some white mice in a restaurant and play a set of pretty avant guarde post country tunes about skoal and shitting on your shoes. our lives followed a bizarrely gummo sort of trailer park parallel for a few years, and i ran into his exgirlfriend in the middle of middle georgia, and she pissed on the ground within five minutes of makign my aquintance. i've lost touch with drew, but the things he thought were good 20 years ago are still good. i dont know what he made of himself, but i hope we can skate again one day.
my neck is sore like a car wreck. i have a hand sized bruise on my leg from landing on my phone. my left arm is scraped free of skin, and is becoming a scab, and my eyebrow is sore. my nose is missing some skin, and the whole row of my lip is sliced from my teeth. i feel like i've earned the right to say i've been skating street
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