Oh, The Horror

05.06.05
home, sf

dear matty....


is nothing sacred?
first, i fake sleep on the couch at age 5
and hear my mom tell my sister to go get
all the christmas presents out of the trunk of her car.
next, at age 12, it's revealed to me that it is actually
apple juice in the jack daniels bottle that david lee roth
drinks from every night on stage.
then, this whole ashlee simpson lip syncing thing vacuum
seals all the joy out of my world.

now today, i am dealt yet another crushing blow...

were you guys aware that dear abby is made up?

yep.. that's right.
hold each other tight, brothers and sisters.
the whole thing is fake. a rouse...
there is no "grammatically correct in pennsylvania".
no "steaming mad in sturgis".
and "wondering in woodbury doesn't really give two
dollops of shit what dear abby's definition of maturity is.
can you believe it?
oh, the horror of it all..

what next??

bottled water... not really from a glacier?
the president... a lying, manipultive puppet for big business?
coldplay... just alternative rocks' overrated answer to five for fighting?

oh, my friends, i have precious little left to tear down.
and it's in these times of great emptiness that i'm sure abby would have been a great comfort...

but that safety net is gone.

and i guess i'm just gonna have to pick myself up, dust myself off and start all over again.

signed, SMARTING IN S
[matt nathanson]

****bum-dizzel.

direct your hate here.