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the shirtcocker
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Feb 28 the shirtcocker commented on Guide to Seattle for AWPers Who've Never Been to Seattle Before.
"Crossing the tracks on Railroad Avenue I came to a small coffee place, painted white, in the corner of a drab freight shed built out over the water of the Sound. I stood at the end of the counter and had two bowls of clam chowder, a big mug of coffee, and for good measure emptied the cracker bowl. It set me back twenty-five cents but it was worth it. Feeling pretty good, I strolled north along the waterfront."
--N.C. McDonald, Song of the Axe
Nov 19, 2013 the shirtcocker commented on Temple of Smoking.
Do what you love. Eat what you love. Put a fire in your belly. The Ayn Randwich.
Oct 26, 2013 the shirtcocker commented on Sounds of Horror.
"In the Pines", Knoxville Girl" and "Me and My Uncle." A sonic trifecta of crime. Nobody does creepy quite like the hillbillies can. "There's a hole in the bucket, dear Liza -- a hole."
Oct 23, 2013 the shirtcocker commented on Satan, Scarecrows, and Skin.
@The Changeling - Empty wheelchair that seemed to be watching us. Empty wheelchair that rolled on its own. Empty wheelchair with a hidden agenda. Never been able to turn my back on an empty wheelchair since then.
Oct 18, 2013 the shirtcocker commented on I, Anonymous.
Oct 17, 2013 the shirtcocker commented on I, Anonymous.
@5 I'm certainly no Click nor Clack here, but part of me has a sneaking suspicion that said "strandee" didn't experience any car problems at all and, in fact, had something else in mind for those handy portable jumper clampers of his entirely. Like maybe he's the guy who's actually out there hoping to provide some emergency roadside service, not vice versa.
Oct 3, 2013 the shirtcocker commented on Hell Is Other People.
That sounds like a featured desert menu item at Shari's, "meringue-pie mountain." Granted, it seems kind of clunky as metaphor but at restaurant I'd probably eat it. Or, at least, try to eat it. Seems like if you ate the whole thing then they should give you a t-shirt at least.
Sep 21, 2013 the shirtcocker commented on The New Life of Great Cities.
Good point. Where the underlying oeuvre of most urban-focused rhetoric seems both to generate from and find itself explicitly tied to cyclical processes of commerce and trade, the sensory system of your typical country mouse is conversely compelled to align itself more presciently within the ebb and flow of our natural world. If the city is brain, then countryside is body.
Sep 19, 2013 the shirtcocker commented on The New Life of Great Cities.
I like living in a city. And one of my favorite things about living in the city is taking a quality jaunt ount to visit the countryside every now and again. Not a big gun nut or anything. Just enjoy getting my gravel road on occasionally so I can suck some fresh air into my gills and maybe indulge my inner-lake poet out there.
Aug 23, 2013 the shirtcocker commented on Why Are Pigeons’ Feet So Fucked Up?.
I feel deeply for all these poor, afflicted birdies as my own human feet have recently gone similarly screwy ever since I finally succumbed to that vile, torturous act of self-immobilization otherwise known as "jogging" for the first time ever in my 41 years. Turns out, I am a pretty efficient limper and a gimper who can crawl. That is -- just so long as I can maintain enough forward momentum not to collapse into a weeping, quivering heap or inadvertently head-butt the occasional passing cyclist on the trail as sundry intense pains go throbbing up through my left arch and some grotesque, invisible maniac jabs a thousand tiny little needle pricks into my bulging, increasingly disfigured right big toe. Perhaps -- the more I think about it -- mine is less an affliction than some kind of twisted, monstrous miracle. Who knew a single human being could do so much grunting and spitting. I didn't used to be a grunter or a spitter at all. But I'm definitely grunting and spitting a blue streak now.

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