American Aquarium Drinker @daveholmes - Tumblr Blog

Posts

From last weekend’s FRIDAY FORTY: Bonus Track on the “Purple Rain” Reissue, or Japanese Porn Title?

a) Electric Intercourse

b) Velvet Kitty Kat

c) Erotic Wives Again

d) Wonderful Ass

e) Orgasm Wheelchair

f) There Are Always Some Kind of Erotic Girls

g) We Can Fuck

h) Katrina’s Paper Dolls

i) Nicely-Sized Clothed Titties

j) She’s A Master Dildo Sculptor

k) Honor Student Yuki’s Titty Secret.

Answers tomorrow!

Strongly considering going full 1978 Lindsey Buckingham. Y/N?

Oh hey.

It’s been exactly one million years since I wrote on this Tumblr. There are a lot of reasons for that, but the main one is that all my writing energy went into my book and Esquire, and at the end of each day I felt a little wrung out. Empty. (A good empty, though! A healthy empty.)

Anyway, I just remembered I had a Tumblr. Maybe I’ll start updating it more. Got questions? Ask away on that ask button, which is somewhere.

GIF goes here, or whatever.

Oh sweet Jesus, Los Angeles. This Friday at Meltdown, ZACHARY KNIGHTON (Happy Endings!) and TIMM SHARP (Enlightened!) face off in THE FRIDAY FORTY. You should probably be there. Click it for your ticket: http://holdmyticket.com/event/192460

Merry.

On Christmas Eve, I like to go to the New Cathedral for Midnight Mass. I’m usually the only one of my family or friends who does it, but I don’t mind. It’s St. Louis at its best: diverse, rugged, strong, united and peaceful. Plus: carols.

Tonight, I drove down Lindell and was barely past Euclid when I started to see the glare of emergency-vehicle red and blue. Was there a fire? A multi-car accident? One, two, six, a dozen police cars with their lights flashing.

The emergency was a protest. Maybe forty people- young and old, black and white, rich and poor- gathered on the sidewalk in front of the Cathedral, ringed by at least a hundred policemen and women in riot gear. Helmets, shields, batons. Paddy wagons idling and ready.

I parked, approached the huddle of protestors and burrowed into the middle. They were observing a moment of silence for yet another young black man shot and killed by yet another policeman just the night before. (Did he have a gun? I don’t know. Neither do you.) Finally, the facilitator of the protest opened the floor to comments, and a few people spoke up. A woman who had just come from an educational conference in New York told of her conversations with the youth there, who told her they were counting on us in St. Louis to remain peaceful. A guy in pajamas who had come straight from a Christmas Eve party because he found out about the protest on Twitter read a list of the black men who had been killed by police this year, and it took a longer time than you would think. A few other people just said they were scared or they were angry or they were desperate or they were just glad the rest of us were there. Throughout, a stream of churchgoers- white and black- scooted past into church. Most were silent; one guy groaned “Come on guys, it’s Christmas,” as though pleas for peace were off-brand for this particular holiday. A few others saw what was happening, and stayed, and listened.

Through it all, we were surrounded by an armed and armored police force- white and black- that outnumbered us more than two to one. They watched. They waited.

The facilitator thanked us all. I introduced myself to a few people, gave a few hugs and got a few Merry Christmases. A few of us decided to go into Mass, because it was well underway by then, and also it was freezing out there. We walked up the steps, past all three rows of cops behind their riot helmets, wished them a Merry Christmas, and got the same in return.

It was a perfectly nice service. The music was fine. The ushers hustled to make sure everyone got a seat. The Archbishop gave your boilerplate Christmas Eve sermon about finding Christ in our fellow man, while somehow failing to mention anyone just outside, or any of the trouble our city has been in these last few months.

I ducked out before the Eucharist and rejoined the remaining protestors- the diverse, rugged, strong, united, peaceful protestors- because it’s Christmas and I wanted communion.

It’s going to be our ears and our hearts that are going to get us out of this one, my friends.

I am you and you are them and they are us and all is love and love is all. Merry Christmas.

I don't know when The Grays' "Ro Sham Bo" showed up on Spotify (and RDio, and iTunes for that matter), but it did and you should snap it up because it is perfect.

#music #spotify

Final Important '80s Glasseses: "Pressing Lips," The Pursuit of Happiness, which is actually technically '90s Glasses and is so sincere and yet also too cool for the room so basically I don't know what's even what right now.

The most important '80s glasses are clearly David Yarritu's. "Be Near Me," ABC. He may be tiny, but he's strong.

Important '80s Glasses "Hypnotize," Scritti Politti. (They're in the waiting room at the ophthalmologist.)

Important '80s Glasses That Probably Did Their Best Work In The Early '90s Because WILL YOU LISTEN TO THIS: "Cigarette Dangles," The Pursuit Of Happiness

Deeply Important '80s Glasses: "I'm An Adult Now," The Pursuit Of Happiness

Important '80s Glasses: "Celebrate," An Emotional Fish

Important '80s Glasses: "When Your Heart Is Weak," Cock Robin. (Drummer).

Important '80s Glasses And It's Okay If I Repeat An Artist: "Mahalia," The Bible

Important '80s Glasses: "Perfect," Fairground Attraction

Important '80s Glasses: "Graceland," The Bible

Important '80s Lips That He Hadn't Quite Grown Into: "Between Something And Nothing," The Ocean Blue

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

American Aquarium Drinker