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I Kan't Spell



Monday, February 28, 2005

 
Holy Fucking Shit

We know that I love expensive things. Well my friends I have been booked to stay at the Algonquin for the week in NYC. Now, it's not Ritz, or Plaza but it's a 4 star hotel. And a 4 star hotel in NYC is like a 28 star hotel in St. Louis or Baltimore or San Diego. You get treated like absolute royalty. When I worked on Wall St. a few months ago I was staying at the Holiday Inn of Wall St. and to give you an example of how different a nice hotel in NYC is compared to a nice hotel anywhere - This Holiday Inn had 3 restaurants, a gym, a sauna, an in house message therapist, and a computer in your room. The Holiday Inn had this - the Algonquin - is going to be something I will remember for a long fucking time. Staying in a 4 star hotel in NYC for business is a weird kind of sign that you've almost accomplished something. I swear if someone asked me right now for a bench mark of my successes I would say: "I did get to stay at the Algonquin for an entire week back in '05"

Ok so - we know that I love the movie Scent of a Woman. Now, in this movie Al Pacino (Col. Slade) references The Oak Room as a place to eat. My friends and I have meagerly tried to find this so called Oak Room for years and had finally given up assuming it was fictitious. But, do you know where it is? DO YOU KNOW WHERE IT IS? It is in the fucking Algonquin. I was as excited as a schoolgirl watching Zack and A.C. court Jesse and Kelly. I'm out of here you fucking suckers!

 
Chapter 1 (small taste): Booze - It's What's for Breakfast.

~~~Now before we proceed I want to clarify that being a smoke is not about being homeless or broke or some sort of pedophile with an open shirt and too many gold chains. Being a smoke is about living life outside your means and knowing it. Being a smoke is about being outwardly aggressive to a box of kittens because they have been meowing too much. Being a smoke isn't about being fake either. It's about seeing your ship going down and wanting to jump up and down on the bow to make it go down faster. It's about pushing the envelope and trying to mail that fucker without a stamp. It's about not just going down but going down in fucking flames. It's stepping beyond bounds and not caring about the average man. It's seeing the average man, hating him like you hate the fucking Yankees and then obliterating him with your over the top behavior and violent mood swings. It's about being the guy you never wanted to be and wanted to be at the same time. It's about being him, lighting him on fire, and pushing him through a bar and watching everyone get out of the way.~~~


If you truly aspire to be a Smoke First Class level type of person you have to have a vice that is only rivaled by David Lee Roth's Mid 80's meltdown. Booze is my vice of choice. Booze makes the world right. And when I say booze I don't mean some half a fag ordering Coors Light after Coors Light. I mean fucking booze. Jameson, Jack, Maker's, anything with some sort of "oolihan" or "oszky" in it, just as long as it's clear, or brown and you can light it on fire.

Booze is a doorway to another world. The beer drinker will never understand this world. He only gets glimpses of it at certain moments when he cringes at the horseshit Jaeger shot he forces to endure. He is only shown the ways of the 'hound' during bachelor parties and girlfriend meltdowns. Booze is beautiful. Booze is sexy. Booze gives an air of aristocracy and refinement.

Take these two orders for instance:

"I'll have a Bud Light"
"I'll have a double dickle on the rocks, in a low ball if you have one."

I mean shit doesn't that make your cock hard or panties wet just thinking about that order? I know it does for me. I know that despite being a smoke what turned me on to booze in the first place was hearing someone order a drink with conviction. Someone who wanted to kill their brain cells and they wanted to do it in style. They were not going to slowly kill themselves with the mundane bullshit utterance of "Miller Lite" please. They were going to announce to the world that "Hey I can light my finger on fire if I dipped it into this drink. And yes, I'm gonna drink the fucker." People do double takes. Everyone asks, "What are you drinking?" And you can slyly and wryly stand there and offer it to them to watch them smell it and cringe like the pansies they are, "Eww oh my god. How do you drink that?" And you can honestly look back and reply, "Because I'm a smoke baby. Welcome to my world."

Booze. Just that word alone - Boooooooozzzze. It sounds like it should be a carnival ride. "Step right up and ride the booze. You there young lad, How'd you like to step aboard the Boooooooooooooooozzze train for a ride you've never seen.".

Booze. It makes us think that we are choosing death and pain as opposed to anything else. You don't start drinking booze because it tastes good, and everyone knows that. You drink it because you want to be fucking cool. If all we wanted was something that tasted good there would just be Bubble Gum flavored Schnapps on tap at every bar. But there isn't. There is refinement in our choice or drunkenness. There is a masochistic desire to wince when we drink and jiggle our heavy bottomed little glass and slowly peruse the selection of labels behind the bar. "Hmmmm ...ohh they have Delwhinney. Well... Oh wow they have Glenlivet 15. But I think I'll try the Red Breast - it's a little drier than those others." Man - smokes we are.

You need this if you are a smoke. You need this sort of desire to want to be noticed and appreciated for your vice. You want someone to think twice before they order for you. You want to be the guy that is in your circle of friends that turns his nose at the mass Miller Lite order going into the bar. You want to be the guy that cringes when he sees his drink in a pint glass. You want to be the smoke. You want to be responsible for the elevation of everyone else's boozing.

 
Shut Down Averted

It took all of 3 hours but the shut down has been averted. Why? Simple. This is how I talk to some of the people I love the most. Without this medium - our communication level would be shut down to next to nothing and that would suck balls.

 
So You Wanna Be a Smoke?

I was sitting around at Mother's on a Saturday morning with the standard "Let's get real fucked up at Noon on Saturday" crew. I decided to write 20 posts dedicated to "Being a Smoke". While the chapters aren't completely fleshed out - here are some off the top of my head.

Credit - an urban myth
Family - Who needs em?
Bathroom Terrorism
2nd rate broads
Premature baldness and coping
Drugs are a part of life
Booze - It's what's for breakfast
So you just pissed blood for the first time
Bouncers and Bartenders
Chicks dig scars
Being judgemental and not knowing what you are talking about
Coping with people hating you
Champagne Tastes - Hi-C funds
"Of course I'm Irish"
TBS/TNT movies and getting through the day

Anyway - I can sooooo hold my own on these topics. Especially bathroom terrorism. I may get going on this now...as I have 3 hours until my departure for the big headache known as NYC.

 
BTW

I'm considering shutting this blog down. After being away from it for a week and then coming back to read other people's things I can start to see how it has entered my life. I haven't decided if I'm happy about the feeling I had or not. I know one thing, this form of communication is sometimes, well, overbearing. I started it over a couple years ago just so Tim and I could have something to do. Now, it has become this awful drama filled place that I almost can't stand to look at any more. I'm glad I have turned other people onto the idea - but I don't know if this medium is the right one for me right now - There is something in me that feels much bigger than this journal. There is a desire to be very small.

 
Goodbye Again

New York for the week - - -
Recap of weekend -

1. SHOTGUN RON! SHOTGUN FUCKING RON!
2. Oh that's right I did piss in that guys beer and I made him drink it.
3. Haley - "Have you seen Haley?"
"Who?"
"Haley's Comet. Our waitress."
"What?"
"Yeah she only comes around once every 7 fucking years."
4. Money Cash Ho's
5. Who needs sleep when you've got back pain?
6. Mom
7. Poker
8. Mr Brightside sung way too loud.
9. I don't answer my phone any more.
10. Fest*word
11. Only real pimp leave bars with the glass they were drinking out of and walk into another bar 20 miles away with same glass and never break stride.

Anyway - I'll attempt more later.

PA was cool - umm - yep - back to life -



Sunday, February 20, 2005

 
Thanks!

You know my Mom is coming to town on Sunday and hence I didn't drink tonight. I respect my Mother's presence enough to be good on a Saturday night prior to her visit. But, even though I wasn't my usual Scharftastic self I would like to extend love and gratitude to everyone I saw tonight and the good time that we had standing around telling stories and laughing our asses off. You gents and gals are truely filling. I looked up numerous times this evening and just smiled at seeing so many people that I respect and love in one room. Even though some were missing I was impressed by the growth that we have shown in being able to enjoy each other's company and just having a beverage.

And to Bizzle - I'm sorry if I caused you any grief. I didn't mean any malice by my actions.

See you all on Saturday! We should do that again soon.



Saturday, February 19, 2005

 
A Much Deserved Vacation

The JVMM and ikantspell will be empty until next week. I am taking a much needed rest from Baltimore and the world. I am headed to the mountains of PA where I will have no phone or Internet access. I wish you all a good and enjoyable week. It's been real.



Friday, February 18, 2005

 
Let's Talk about Spaceships

One day I want to sit in a car with the rain coming down and both people angry at each other and put on this song and then just get out of the car and make love on the hood in the rain.


It's only words and words can't kill me
But I can't even spell them and the cadence of what she says is well...
Let's talk about spaceships or anything except you and me, okay? Okay.

Don't look now but there's a spider
Crawling on the wall behind you
I should have paid attention in Algebra
Let's talk about spaceships or anything except you and me, okay? Okay.


Download it - Love it - Live it



Thursday, February 17, 2005

 
I've Been Babbling This Song all Day

It's quite possible that I'm your third man girl
But it's a fact that I'm the 7th son.
Right now you could care less about me
But soon enough you will care by the time I'm done
Let's have a ball and a biscuit
Take our sweet little time about it.

Read it in the newspapers.
Ask your girlfriends and see if they know.

*I must have said that last part about 400 times today. Everytime I do something and it works I just go "Read it in the newspapers. Ask your girlfriends and see if they know."

~~~Cuz my strength is 4 1/2 fold girl I'll let you see it if you want to before you go.

 
My respect for Scully and Mulder.

Have you ever noticed that in every movie involving men in women in lead roles there is always some sort of strange sexual tension? That is of course unless an elder, sexually non-threatening, black, mentor type plays the lead male role and the other role is played by a pretty young white girl. If there were sexual tension in that scenario then all the fucks in the Midwest wouldn't go see the movie. But seriously, I was watching movies last night on TNT and whatever, you know horseshit movies, and it seems as though, and thinking about this without research, that 90% of movies have some sort of weird sexual tension.

I think it was "the Muse" with Sharon Stone and that Jewish guy who whines all the time that really brought this to light. That movie has the idea of sexual tension laced throughout. Sharon Stone is always dressed in elaborate sexy things and Jew face - oh shit I'm gonna go look up his name - Albert Brooks - tends to her every need with what seems like the most flaccid of penis. Ok so what's my point? I don't know -

I was just thinking that in my life I have run across few women I wouldn't sleep with. And take away diseased people, or obese people, or disfigured people, and just think normal. But movies follow rules when it comes to who is sexually attainable. Unless the plot twist depends on a strange sexual variable to change the story line:

First Category for Non Sex - "Friend's Girlfriends" - this is a no no - first off I Don't want to sleep with anyone that has slept with anyone I know. Second that's a weird line to cross - if you sleep with your friend's girlfriend - and I dont care how many times it happens on TV - you are a fuck bag and that person is seriously not your friend or that girl is a siren. Either way - you are a fuck bag.

Second Category - There is none really - except cheating - I'm not a fan of cheating. Can't say that I've ever done it - but then again I can't say that I've had more than 2 girlfriends in my entire life - so I guess that doesnt really matter.

Third Category - Relatives ? - - I dont know

Anyway - I wanted to applaud Mulder and Scully of X-Files for keeping a monogamous and very little sexual tension plot going for so many years. It was probably the most impressive thing about that show - except for the Smoking Man Episode where they reveal he was behind the assassination of Kennedy, MLK, and the first Alien. That was solid.



Wednesday, February 16, 2005

 
And You Will Know us by....

Someone is going to sack up and go see the AYWKUBTTOD show. I don't care who it is. But someone is going to see this band with me at the Black Cat on April 7th. I have seen them once and it blew my penis into a billion pieces and I was forced to scour the Earth looking for it.

Oh and By the Way - I will be attending the Promoters Party at the Ottobar on Friday. Nothing like getting free bumper stickers that will be obsolete as soon as you walk out the door. Plus the coolness level of the t-shirts will be unstoppable. LOL - I plan to at least walk out with the Bossman cd that everyone keeps talking about and a t-shirt that has a curse word on it.

 
The Word Has Come from up on High

An email from fest

    Yo

    I think Fest is going to throw a little bash this Sat night. We at 1414 are way over due......

    My buddy Greg is leaving for Spring training next week, so I think we should throw down!!

    More details to come...........just a heads up.....nothing super crazy, just beers and then hit the town.

    -Jenkfest

    As always look for exciting updates at http://juniorvarsitymeatmarket.blogspot.com/

    The creator/author will be in town this weekend

My response to this email was - noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!
Son of a bitch....



Tuesday, February 15, 2005

 
"Aye Jake?" - "Aye"

Hey, Rexman. Hell of a situation we got here. Two on, two out, you guys trailing by one in the ninth. You got a chance to be a hero on national television, if you don't blow it. By the way, I saw your wife at the Free Lounge last night. Hell of a dancer, you must be very, very proud. And that guy she was with? I mean, I'm sure he's a close personal friend and all, but tell me, what was he doing wearing her panties on his head?

 
During the "Union Forever"

Anger is not love. Because it can't be love. For there is not true love. There is compromise and there is guitars and anger and fucking. There is me and you and there are moments. There is you making me jealous and you not caring. There is you being weak and me being mean. There is you being no where and stupid and me wondering around wondering how to replace you. Because no man can say it but you got to love me. Well I'm sorry but not interested in gold mines, oil wells, shipping, or real estate. What would I have liked to have been? Everything you hate. There is no you any more. There is no you. There was a me once and he got lost and deflated and passive and started sitting around worrying about shit. There is no you. And that you who was you isn't you anymore. I can keep running around and acting a fool. I can keep fucking and drinking and skulking and regretting. I CAN DO THAT FOREVER. I can do you forever. I can do me forever. Imitation is flattery. The time taken to hate you is a thousand times more than the time taken to love you.

 
My Days are Filled with Loud Guitars and Cockney Chelsea Fans
http://www.bsrlive.com/archives/show.php?s=30

I love when radio stations allow you to stream their sets. And college radio stations have great sets - especially around brit pop - and since i can't pick up Radio 1 or anything really british than this is what I am forced to do; search the Internet for someone to make fun of Oasis and praise the brilliance that is Pulp, Blur, Spiriutalized, the Mondays, Suede, and the Charlattans UK. WOOHOO!!!! Made my day!

 
VDAY

I got home to my apartment here at the complex of some company I don't work for. I went to the fabulous Boston Market and ordered the finest 1/2 white chicken they could muster. It was most awesome. So a...we...some.

I just read on Erin's Blog about her VDAY thing what she did for her ex-boyfriend - and that was amazing - I'll sum it up for all you non-clicker through people - I dont care about the gift that she got but the Roses with things attached to them that said, "I love you because..." and then delivered by different people - now that's effort.

I was going to list my own personal Valentine's day high points that I had done in the past but that would be pointless and just piss me off. Including the one where someone got a car, and another one where I got a person in a play to hand her an engraved photo of us with the Wordsworth poem of Intimation of Immortality engraved on the back - during the fucking play - anyway...and another one where I just put her in a car and took her to the airport and went somewhere - anywhere she wanted. Sucker I am.

My Valentine's Evening -
Phone - look at phone - pick up phone - don't dial phone - drink - look at phone - drink - drink - smoke a cigarette - look out window - write bad poetry - crumble bad poetry and throw said crap - drink - look at phone - picture people enjoying themselves - throw phone - get in car - drive - drive back - give self speech on "fuck em all" - drink - look at broken phone - oh well - give another speach about "not fucking caring" - smoke cigarette - watch TV - write - drink - sleep - wake up 1 hour later - walk in circles - stomach hurts need milk - give another half-assed speech leaning against a counter drinking milk - look at phone - phone is working - how? dont know - 1 missed call - 1 voice mail - almost entrigued - listen to voice mail - roll eyes - hang up - call her back - talk til 2 - feel worse - give one more speech about how awesome I could be - vow to ignore everyone until I'm awesome again - sleep

 
Today's Playlist




hank williams
the white stripes
the shirelles
burl ives
bill monroe
della reese
sun kil moon
hank snow
janis joplin
bob dylan
loretta lynn
patsy cline
leadbelly
blanche
volebeats
jack white
hank williams
neil young
sufjan stevens
hank snow
cat power
leadbelly
charley patton
billie holiday
son house
tommy johnson
robert johnson

i'm satisfied with you
st ides of march
will you love me tomorrow
wayfaring stranger
dark hollow
yes indeed
glenn tipton
singing the blues
one good man
the times they are a-changin'
trouble on the line
crazy
where did you sleep last night
superstition
standing next to you
who's to say
ready to go home
don't let it bring you down
that dress looks nice on you
fraulein
moonshiner
baby, don't you love me no more
hang it on the wall
i'm a fool to want you
death letter
big road blues
sweet home chicago

 
Jack and Loretta

The Grammy's give out the most "what will make the best TV" awards in the world. All except for that (and excuse me here Tim) that Stealy Dan album that won back in 2000.

I was listening to that Oregon song about 8 months ago and I thought it was good but come on. I knew Jack White had a thing for Loretta Lynn - she's in the liner notes on White Blood Cells as the only benefactor of a special Thank You. Why? I don't know. But a couple more observations from this video:

Jack and Loretta Except Grammy and are Creepier than Ever

1. I love country people. My relatives on my Mother's side are all country and hanging out with them is a very surreal experience. It's like mixing the KKK with Sesame Street or something. It's their voice and accent. It's their inability to hold any reserve on a controversial topic that stems them as the receiver of indignant (like race relations, the president, war, sweet tea). It's the sweet sternness that comes from them as they try to make prim and proper boys and girls that also know how to clean the pelt off a beaver and shuck corn all day.

2. Jack White is starting to get creepy. This is a good thing. The creepier he gets the more of a dying urban legend he'll become. He'll be like Trent Reznor but not as forthright because, and watch the video for this, he's a pretty polite and shy guy without any agenda for the spotlight.

3. Lance Armstrong front row center at the Grammy's wearing that fucking live strong band makes me want to fucking puke. I hate those bands. I don't hate them now because they are popular. I hated them when they came out. I hate the bands and the "support our troop" stickers, and all the hypocritical bullshit impotent flag waving that goes on in this country. I'm going to develop a black band that says, "Fuck 'em all" and the proceeds are going directly to the Bret Holmes foundation to fight fucking morons from being hypocrites their whole life.

4. Old women how want to, and probably do, hump young men, really freak me the fuck out. Like Loretta Lynn old you know. Yeah that freaks me out.

 
Mario Brothers

During my Nintendo days I was more of a Tecmo Bowl / NBA Allstars / RBI Baseball fan oh and Baseball Stars (the first true baseball video game). But - everyone played Super Mario Brothers and it was the water mark for your coolness to do the following things -

Get the 100 lives by being able to do the turtle bounce 106 times on level 7 before the flag jump.
Running across the ceiling in level 2.
Beating Koopa with 1 man.
Get into the minus world on level 2.
Getting to level 8 from level 4.

*holy shit I guess I did play a lot of Super Mario brothers. I can't believe I fucking remember that. What a loser I was. But alas I was never really good at SMB. My friends could do those tricks repeatedly. I was always stuck being Luigi and apologizing for my inability to get 5000 on the pole jump when it was my turn.

But anyway - this website by Alexander Leon is pretty fucking awesome. He makes a flash parody of Super Mario Brothers using contemporary music with a wider scope on the plot. It's kinda awesome.

 
Oasis Update 3

Oasis sell out the Garden in 67 minutes. How insane is that? Oh and by the way the Wilco/Flaming Lips show wasn't sold out at all for New Years Eve at the Garden. Hmmm... It always amazes me that people say bands are dead and yet they have no idea that there is still a huge following of people that listen to them. Dicks.

Philly sold out in just over a day.

 
Portions for Foxes

There's blood in my mouth 'cause I've been biting my tongue all week
I keep on talkin' trash but I never say anything
And the talkin' leads to touchin'
and the touchin' leads to sex
and then there is no mystery left

And it's bad news
Baby I'm bad news
I'm just bad news

I know I'm alone if I'm with or without you
but just bein' around you offers me another form of relief
When the lonliness leads to bad dreams
and the bad dreams lead me to callin' you
and I call you and say "C'MERE!"


And it's bad news
Baby it's bad news
It's just bad news

'Cause you're just damage control
for a walking corpse like me - like you

'Cause we'll all be
Portions for foxes
Yeah we'll all be
Portions for foxes

There's a pretty young thing in front of you
and she's real pretty and she's real into you
and then she's sleepin' inside of you
and the talkin' leads to touchin'
and the touchin' leads to sex
and then there is no mystery left

And it's bad news
I don't blame you
I do the same thing
I get lonely too

And you're bad news
My friends tell me to leave you
That you're bad news, bad news, bad news



Monday, February 14, 2005

 
George Dickle and I Are Gonna Party

There's something about ordering a "Double Dickle" on the rocks that makes life seem to go by that much smoother. Yes, Tim, I have found the love that is the Dickle - but rare indeed is it's existance. You know what movie made that drink famous - "Wonder Boys". Anyway - i'll be cruising home with a pint of something close if not lord willing the George Dickel - to drink my face off and play the only cd that I brought with me - and I'll be playing this sad bastard fucking tune all night. Lord -

When they call your name
Will you walk right up
With a smile on your face
Or will you cower in fear
In your favorite sweater
With an old love letter
I wish you would

I wish you would
Come pick me up
Take me out
Fuck me up
Steal my records
Screw all my friends
They're all full of shit
With a smile on your face
And then do it again

I wish you would

When you're walking downtown
Do you wish I was there
Do you wish it was me
With the windows clear and the mannequins eyes
Do they all look like mine

You know you could
I wish you would
Come pick me up
Take me out
Fuck me up
Steal my records
Screw all my friends behind my back
With a smile on your face
And then do it again

I wish you would
I wish you'd make up my bed
So I could make up my mind
Try it for sleeping instead
Maybe you'll rest sometime
I wish I could

 
Nina Gordon : Straight Outta Compton - Video

http://www.iconscious.co.uk/theroadie/

 
Damnit

Sombody just found my site using this query "aldo's+baltimore+valentines" That's Aldo's Baltimore Valentines. That's where I used to spend them. It's a lovely restaurant. I'd like to pass on my best wishes to the person who searched for that. ...fucker

 
Update on Wilco Tix

Jesus has fled back to the Virginia Beach ranch. He has left his tickets in Baltimore with his girlfriend and did not try to give any way. Again I cannot go. Again these are pretty highly touted collector's tix that I am giving away for free. But - that's only for today - tomorrow I'm going to tell Rachel his girlfriend to post them on Ebay starting at 100 bucks. So tic toc fuckers.

 
O-AS-IS O-AS-IS O-AS-IS O-AS-IS

Update 2 on Oasis

Criag Messages-

    Got MSG tix. Liam side. 3rd row. Best that was left at 901 presale! Philly tomorrow.
    Let the awesomeness begin!

What does this mean? Oasis always have the same set up for shows. They don't move around - well they don't move around at all so you know where they will be set up for each show. Liam upstage left center. Noel Down stage right. And as a fan this is where you want to be - because to really enjoy an Oasis show you have to pick up on the nuances - the fist pumps of the slight snarls or banter between the two are what make the show. They don't do cartwheels and hop around - they play music but if you watched them live you'll watch every move because when they do do something it's like a special little gift.
    Got Philly. Noel 5th row. NOEL! Taking the week off. Bring a spare liver.

See above for seat arrangements. Gonna get drunk and sing real loud and then go get more drunk and sing just as loud in some bar.

 
"Well yeah...Now I'm a Little Freaked Out"

So JVMM has been up for a week now and with the help of some of my friends word has apparently spread to the odd Federal Inner Circle of the 200 people I run into every weekend.

How do I know this? Besides the fact that my web traffic has 20x in the past 2 weeks it's also because this weekend I was a little weirded out by this comment, "This is the guy? This is the guy that does that Junior Varsity site? Holy Shit! YOU ARE THE FUCKING MAN!" Like I need any more of an ego boost but to be honest I had no idea what to say.

And don't get me wrong it's not like these were random people - these were friends of friends - and most of them are computer dorks with a lot of time on their hands. So it's not like they were just estranged cats - they found out probably via email or whatever - but the point was - and this is the weird part that has never happened to me before - except that one time when I heard "Oh that's Bret Holmes." "You mean the Bret Holmes. The one who does the band's website." Yeah so other than that fine moment - I had never had anybody want to ask me a serious question about me as though they were thoroughly interested.


I mean, just some person I don't know, decided to ask me about my umm hobby/project and he already knows what the work is and so we have a common ground. I guess what I mean to say is - i've never really (besides my reputation as a loud mouth drunk who can't control himself) had any part of me preclude me to other people in that way. It was a crazy feeling. I enjoyed it. I also have never said , "Why thank you." "Hey thanks man." "That's cool." "I'm glad you like it." "Keep reading and Tell your friends." "Wow that's awesome I'm glad you laughed at it." Ever in my entire life - - - ever ever ever. It was a good feeling and one that I want to have again and again.



BTW - Today is Valentine's Day and I feel awful.



Friday, February 11, 2005

 
So We Drink to Our Legs

Show me the way to go home,
I'm tired and I want to go to bed.
I had a little drink about an hour ago,
And it's gone right to my head.
Wherever I may roam,
On land or sea or foam.
You will always hear me singing this song:
Show me the way to go home.

 
New Music for that Ass

Bloc Party - This reminds a little of Animalistic's Sung Tongs - but not - I don't know it sort of feels like a mellow Modest Mouse and Morissey singing. I really do like it. I wish they weren't going to get so popular. Word has it they will be the opener for Coldplay on their next tour.

Rilo Kiley
- Hipsters have heard of her and if you have gone out on the net to read any trendy people's website about what was cool and what wasn't this year than you saw this girl under "cool". I think she's touring with Conor and Bright Eyes so that just sunk her cause with me but alas... I really like "Portions for Foxes". She's gonna fade away but personally this is worth checking out. (mp3's available)

The Blow - Oliver sent me this. I told him at the time that I thought it was too minimal for me. I still think it needs - oh I don't know - anything other than a noise making keyboard - but the more I listen to this the more I really like it. I'd like to fuck to 'How naked are we gonna get'. At least make out to it. Oh shit I just saw that they are on "Important Records" with Kimya - that's legitimacy to me.

Harlan T Bobo - This guy has been getting a lot of pub lately amongst the usual culprits. It's well worth it. The city of Memphis has also been getting a big play up lately as if there were 4 or 5 bands waiting to come out of there. I'll tell you who will like this: people who think Devendra Banhart is weird and love Lou Reed and David Byrne. I am going to buy his album this weekend. It's fucking unreal. (mp3's available)

New Order - I know this isn't new music but I got the leaked mp3's off of some websites for their upcoming album. It's pretty good. It sounds like mid 80's English non-sad bastard pop - mixed with some good hooks and good choruses. This is really gay guy music - which as you know - fits right into my persona - hell I listen to The Sounds and jump around.

Suitcase Pimps - Hmm - this is a little harsh and yeah they sort of sound like their name. It's like Julian and E combined voices to make this guy. But they forgot the backing instruments until - they are ready to swing or some shit. It's pretty par. (mp3's available)

Martha Wainwright - That's right Rufus' sister. It's not too bad. She's getting a ton of ink in second tier magazines and word has it she is becoming quite a large socialite in NYC. Chances of seeing her soon are pretty good. Plus her album is called "Bloody Motherfucking Asshole". So yeah awesome. (mp3's available)

Mouserocket - I've heard about this band for a while. It sound from their latest mp3 releases that they are starting to put it together but in a way too Mates of State/Polyphonic Spree kinda way. It's good though. (mp3's available)

SONS AND DAUGHTERS - FUCKING AWESOME! FUCKING AWESOME! IF YOU LOVE THE BLACK KEYS - WHICH EVRYONE SHOULD BY THIS POINT - THIS WILL BLOW YOUR NIPPLES OFF - (ALL CAPS DESERVED) johnny cash is their big hit - listent to it - love it. And you know what since I can't find this album in the states - I went here - and bought it - (mp3's available)
    Sons and Daughters Love The Cup Mid-Price LP 8.00 GBP

 
Update on Oasis

Just got this text message from Craig -
    Got MSG tix. Liam side. 3rd row. Best that was left at 901 presale! Philly tomorrow.
Let the awesomeness begin!

 
My Love for Meg White

Many people have attacked my undying affection towards Meg White. I implore you to watch this video to see why I am so hypnotized by her. If you have never seen the White Stripes live I suggest you watch this live feed from Reading 2002 - when they were still semi-not-too-stupid big. I've seen them 4 times and I have to say that they put on a fucking show. I don't even really notice Jack but I'll watch Meg tilt her head, pout, and play into Jack until the cows come home or until they stop wearing red and black.



Screwdriver - White Stripes



Thursday, February 10, 2005

 
Things I hate

One of the things I hate the most in the world, mayonnaise has inspired me to write this, i dont know how long, post. I was eating this tasty ham sandwich, or at least starting to eat, when I glob of mayonnaise squirts out from the side. I wretched. I was close to vomiting. If there is one thing in the world I cannot take it's mayonnaise - and all this other shit. To keep the list manageable I have decided to not include people things.

1. The smell of steamed shrimp.
2. Dirty bodies of water and that water getting in my mouth.
3. Anything grape flavored
4. Tickling
5. Sharks
6. Wave Runners
7. Sweet Pickles
8. Squid
9. Orange Juice
10. Hangovers
11. Crusted turds on the bottom of a toilet.
12. Dirty toilets
13. Tennis shoes
14. Utz Regular Potato chips
15. Anything sour cream flavored
16. Pringles
17. Pretzel rods
18. "ice" gum
19. Cheap cigarettes
20. Sex after showering
21. Sex in the shower
22. Sex in water
23. Any drink with a color not brown or clear
24. Cotton Candy
25. Chocolate Ice Cream
26. Coconut anything
27. Single ply toilet paper
28. E! TV
29. Non hot Buffalo wings
30. VW Beatles


That's enough -

 
Mikey The Lord of the World

For those of you who didn't see Jesus' post down there, I'd like to introduce you to Jesus a.k.a Mikey - a.k.a. 'filth' - a.k.a. - 'bull dog'. I haven't ever met anyone I wanted to fight less than Mikey in my entire life and I think that's what sort of made us friends because I just hurl myself at him trying to fuck him up but it never really happens and it usually ends up with a "Ok ok ok ...ok OK OK!...I'm sorry...come on bull dog...let me up...come on...man...that fucking hurts.." Anyway - he came into town last night and said that he had news so I called him this morning and the news is pretty cool but alas I cannot take advantage.

Mikey has 4 tickets to each of the Wilco shows next next Wed and Thurs at the 9:30 club. Apparently they are filming something. Mikey used to work for HFS and some Virgina Beach Radio Station supporting Hip Hop groups trying to go mainstream into alternative radio stations. You may have heard some of his crappy Montgomery County Hip Hop late night on DC 101 or HFS. But anyway - I can't go - so an open invitation - because Mikey knew I was a Wilco fan he got me two and him and his girlfriend each one - he also assumed I had a girlfriend - actually - he made fun of me for about an hour because he was like "Dude I read your blog. You should shut that shit down and burn it. Bring back stump so we can hang out. I can't deal with this boo hoo hoo shit."

So - eh hem - if you don't mind going to a concert with a complete psycho path that has killed a man - he was acquitted - but he totally killed someone. lol. I can't believe I'm writing that. Well if you don't mind that - and he smells and stuff - you can have my two tix as long as he doesn't give them away to some cooze first.

I will be in PA for my grandparents 50th wedding anniversary - how hot does that sound? Yeah - well - you gotta do family stuff every once in a while. So yeah - let me know. Or you can let him know - I'm sure he'll be on here since he's just sitting at home today and tomorrow - you lazy fuck! hahaha

 
Wait

we wait to wake to get a ride in the rain
buy a ticket they can check we can claim
so we don't spend what's our own for a
seat a place to stop a green light a red
cross they run around naked doing old
things like the ones before
wait for a break so you can take a little
something that'll make your next break
come along a little quicker than the one
before wait for an answer spy a sweet
dancer as she walks from the door of the
hall wish you waited for your wedding
vows so hurry up and wait
but what's worth waiting for?


we wait to get warm the car starts from
cold stall to make a first move magazines
made the rules to make us lose wait for
your dream man the house you could both
plan the car in the sales ad the dream
with the man you wished that you had
a watched pot never boils sugars seconds
to dissolve see your appetite lost foods
relevance is lost inside
so hurry up and wait
but what's worth waiting for?



Wednesday, February 09, 2005

 
Who needs a drink?

Well I'll be here in Detroit next week as well. The decision is whether or not to even come home for the weekend. I haven't made up my mind just yet - but to be honest nothing sounds better right now than pulling up to that crappy bar - slamming 17 Jameson and waters and playing sad bastard music. Nothing sounds better than a drink right now. I don't want any drama this weekend so if in the back of your head you are thinking about sitting next to me at that bar - you better come with a buddy to talk to because I'll be staring at my dying hairline in the mirror while I jiggle my glass and say, "Yeah sure, let's go again."

 
Leave

Forced moments of rolled eyes
Lead to resentment
Amongst time and heart
Fighting for freedom
In the song that sings
Threw the extension of my sight

Being trash whisping through
Stained glass halls
Mahogany rails
14th century Oak Offering Tables
Does not make you an alumni

Free your ideas
From the tyrannical image
Controlling your actions
Always
Wasting your time to be
Equal

 
Lawrence Lessig

Was that me, or was Christopher Lloyd of "Back to the Future" fame, playing Lawrence Lessig as a Consitutional Writer on West Wing this evening? Oh it was. And on top of that they referenced that wind bag of a book "Future of Ideas". But it was nice seeing one of the pioneers of blogging and Internet information referenced on my favorite TV show.

Lessig's Blog

 
BRB

No posts today - because well my job just crushed me. Usually I have time to write be jolly, and chat online because I make my own schedule and if I hit my one goal than I can do what I like. But when I'm away in other cities this is what happens:

  • I get an escort to follow me around all day.
  • I am billed out at a rate so everything I do is tracked and calculated to prove ROI.
  • I have limited access to anything but Enterprise servers.
  • I have a detailed list of objectives that need to fulfilled and meetings that need to be attended. If anyone of those objectives or meetings goes wrong then the ball of yarns starts to unravel.
  • My escort usually sits in the same room as me and asks me ridiculous questions such as, "What does that .dll do?", "I was wondering what form of segmentation will be used in our SCSI hard drives in your future versions?", "Do you think you could maybe do this one little thing for us that involves launching a space shuttle and landing it on Queen Elizabeth's ass!"

    So anyway - I'll try and write later. I've been writing some crappy poetry lately. Maybe, I'll put that up and we can all laugh at me. Until then - keep refreshing and checking out the JVMM.

    Get along doggies!



  • Tuesday, February 08, 2005

     
    Strategic Positioning of a Recovering Flirtaholic

    I don't flirt like other men I guess. I don't even know what the hell that means. But for some reason I have been accused of flirting extensively in the past.

    This week while I'm at a foreign company I have been positioned perpendicular to the women's bathroom. The foot traffic is immense and I have taken it upon myself to conduct a survey of flirting. Not real flirting like "Hey, how are you?" type shit. But just smiles given out and smiles received back. Personally, I think my smile is awkward and can cause hostility in some people. But we shall see - I'll constantly update the below tally as the day progresses. I'll but the attractive women in parenthesis - and believe me there are some hot *hahahaha* women working corporate jobs.


    Smiles Given By Me
    61

    Smiles Received in Return (hot women smiling back)
    37 (3 - same one (2))


    * side note - the panty line issue in corporate America needs to be addressed ASAP - breezy/cotton pants should be accompanied by unnoticeable underwear.

    ** side note - the breeze of perfume all day can be both wonderful and distracting.

    *** side note - women use the bathroom a lot more than men do. I've seen the same woman in there 5 times today. If I used the bathroom once at work it's a lot.

     
    Evening

    I walked into the apartment complex here and it smelled like my ex-girlfriend's and my old apartment. It kicked me square in the nuts. I rolled my eyes and then sighed a little and then shook my head as I looked at the floor. I just laughed the whole way walking up the stairs. It had the smell of fried spaghetti with parmesan sauce, garlic bread, and those awful blue candles that seemed to be everywhere at all times.

    I got into the room and what did I have - I had the handicapped room? Son of a bitch! No tub just a bench and there are no walls separating anything and the light switches are all really low. This wasn't playing into my apartment fantasy. The "lady slaying pit of love" that I had hoped the week would be was just put into a weird sort of light by the sight of a huge metal walker bolted into the wall around the toilet. "Ladies...welcome to my...umm...physically challenged...nest of love."

    So I sat down with my Boston Market dinner - I did not feel like cooking and decided to treat myself to some awful craptastic mindless food for the evening. I tried to type out a couple profiles for JVMM but besides my Beauty and the Beast reference they felt sort of flat. Now I was disappointed. I sighed, watched 24, and talked to Erin online for a bit. Erin doesn't understand yet that I don't really enjoy chatting. lol.

    I went to bed.

    The dreams start. I don't truly remember them other than they involved birds, Jas, fire, bombs, birds - lots of fucking birds - me dying -, and the final one where I am a terrorist delivering a Dirty bomb to downtown Berlin. It was kind of wild.

    It was me in a white jumper driving a van and I'm holding a red button. I know it's Berlin because I'm right under the Brandenburg Gate. And there is a little boy and girl playing catch with a red ball. I get out of the van and yell at them to run but they don't hear me. I look back and a wave of light comes from the distance. I woke up sitting in a hurry.

    I don't know - but when I eat sugar before I got to bed I seem to have the craziest fucking dreams. (I cant find anything online about diet and dreams - but I havent smoked a cigarette in 2 days and they say that will fuck with you. I don't smoke or drink on the road unless I gamble.)

    I woke up about 7 times. Each time I walked around the apartment, drank a glass of water and returned to Cartoon Network and bed. Cartoon Network soothes me when I want to sleep because Duckman / Family Guy / Yu Gi Oh make things easy to ignore.

    I wake up at 5:30 to my phone buzzing and beeping.

    There is a text message on my phone from an "Unknown caller"
    Read message - "Did you have sweet dreams?"
    Look with confusion at the screen - Text back - "Who is this?"
    Wait - fall asleep again - Buzzing and beeping - "Knew you wouldn't."
    Look at phone - look at clock, 6 am - I chose not to investigate.

    So - whoever - umm - yep - those were my dreams and my evening. Cheers



    Monday, February 07, 2005

     
    Detroit Rock City

    Yep that's where I'm at. Actually, even though Detroit is a hole of a city and not friendly at all, I like being here. I am working for umm - you know that big motor company started by that guy who did the assembly line thing - yeah him - and they have private apartments for corporate guests.

    So you get this big kick ass apartment. I mean it's no joke. They have a Jacuzzi/hot tub in each room, full kitchen and dinette, mountable TV on the wall, and a full made service - just in case I want to get my fleece cleaned.

    The only down part is that it's not like a hotel in that you can order room service or order movies or whatever. But, I went shopping tonight. That's right grocery shopping people. I got 2 steaks/ 2 chicken breasts, real Korean Ramin which I was shocked to find - some soy sauce, A1, 4 pack of Guinness, 3 things of butter pecan ice cream, and some other shit to cook like broccoli and Texas toast.

    So anyway - it's like having my own place. And that's sort of why I am writing this - to all my friends that I have lived with - I am stating now that I plan on moving out before Summer. I cannot live in that house any more. But anyway - I'm going down to the Casino tonight to slap people on the ass and play some poker. See you all on Friday - oh and download some of that Stereophonincs - it'll be good for ya.

     
    Are You Having a Rough Day?

    Does life look a little down right now?
    Aww...
    Do you want some sad bastard music to drown your sorrows?
    Do you want to be introduced to a band that you should know but you don't?
    - Well unless you live in the UK -

    I give you the ability to download and listen to the Stereophonics acoustic.
    I love the 'phonics - mainly because of the Jarvis Cocker (pulp) style sound the singer has and it's uptempo poppy melody and beats. I recommend for beginners that you listen to the following 3 before venturing out any further - especially the first one -

    Hurry Up and Wait
    Just Looking
    Have a Nice Day

    These were given by the Large Hearted Boy


     
    "I said, 'how did we end up here?' You said, 'happens man'"

    Ok who wants to hear something insanely crazy?!?! Well to me it was insanely crazy. I'm in the plane to Detroit and I'm doing some prep work for my arrival and I'm listening to music while I'm doing it on my laptop. The person next to me was a girl. She was a young Indian girl. I noticed her when she came in and sat down next to me. She seemed hip. But how HIP. HOW HIP YOU ASK? This fucking hip:

    As I'm playing tunes in my head phone I see her bobbing her head as she shuffles through a magazines. Now for us frequent fliers in the audience we know that no one ever really talks on a fucking plane. Especially at 7 am on Monday. And here is this girl wearing a Dukes of a Hazard t-shirt and she's bobbing her head. Sounds pretty cool right - - - well it gets better.

    In my headphones Kimya Dawson is playing - and I'm sort of flirting now by bobbing my head as well and smiling at her. But then - then - I lost my shit - she looked at me and mouthed the chorus to the song.
      some day i'll be an old lady
      with a big dress and an apron
      a babushka and bare feet
      i'll be out in my garden
      on my hands and knees
      and i'll be singing a song
      that is really sad and sweet


    My eyes got as big as baseballs and my stomach fell 10 thousand feet back to earth. I took out one of my headphones and said,

    "What was that?"
    She came back with a rye smile and a look down at her magazine, 'What was what?"
    "Do you know that song?"
    She's still looking down, "Yeah I love Kimya Dawson."
    "That's the greatest moment I've ever had on a plane."

    - - I totally was alive for a few moments. I made her laugh we touched each other's forearms. She was a one of those wholesome hippy people that enjoy life and touch you and would have probably gotten off the plane if I would have asked her to.


    We talked about music the rest of the way but the conversation never really got off the ground and she was flying to Ontario or some shit so she wasn't getting out in Detroit. It seemed pointless to really carry on. She liked some of the same music as I did but hers was in a really girlie vein. I appreciated it but couldn't say that I like "The Happy Munchkins" or "The Suicide Daters" too much. But when she looked at me and mouthed those words I was in some sort of werid happy place like I was sitting to the sister I never had.

    I get to work and I am opening up my laptop bag and what did I find? Yeah what did I find? I found a little yellow post-it with lyrics on it - I can't imagine when she wrote it because I remember talking to her the whole time -
    "My Mother says that rain is Angels who are crying up in heaven. I believe that." I don't know what that person was or what her name was besides Yamini. And I don't have any idea about anything other than that life does this to me from time to time. It reminds me that I'm pretty damn blessed. Everything feels really OK right now.

    Here are the rest of the lyrics if you want to check them out - - I have recommended Kimya before but no one really listens to me about her awesomeness so whatever -

    my heart is on my sleeve my head is in the sand
    i said how did we end up here? you said happenstance
    but i didn't understand so i made other plans
    i ran to the ocean washed the blood off of my hands
    i washed away my tears washed away ten years
    washed away the empty space in-between my ears
    and you said all that i mean is that you and me
    didn't meet because of fate but rather probability

    and you said the truth's like corn and lies are like weeds
    you said the schroedinger equation collapsed perfectly
    and i said mercy me be patient please
    'cause i don't know a goddam thing about the birds and the bees
    i just know what i'm like and i'm like what i see
    even though it's hard to see because you just blinded me
    and if there's one thing i learned in chemistry
    it's that the gain of electrons is reduction, obviously
    but you can't see electrons without machines
    and you can't tell from my inflection if i'm being mean
    and i don't know if i can take you seriously
    sometimes elections depend on the absentees

    and my family and my friends
    and all the little kids that love me make me strong
    and no matter how this ends
    i know i'll never ever ever be alone

    some day i'll be an old lady
    with a big dress and an apron
    a babushka and bare feet
    i'll be out in my garden
    on my hands and knees
    and i'll be singing a song
    that is really sad and sweet

    mommy and daddy your baby is grown
    and the smell of the cold, wet dirt reminds me home




     
    Aiport and Weekend Randoms

  • Here I am in the airport again Monday morning at 5:30. I am at the airport again after being at work on Sunday. Poor Erin was dragged around as the dear heart she is - only to have me lay one chore after another on her that I had to finish. I then followed up that pearl of a day that I gave her by having bad dreams that make me pace and smoke for half the night.

  • I'm here at the airport. This is the true melting pot of the world. This is the absolute semblance of forced meetings. Aluminum siding sales men, perky secretaries, Midwestern fat people, college girls with bad sweaters and bad skin gather like muted cattle to stow and wait and suck. Strung out teenage moms with "Enyce" sweatshirts and "Cheer" sweat pants cling to their baby's strollers and look over shoulders repeatedly. All black, all business, power bar eating, all-natural kiwi fruit cocktail drinking men are trying to look pensively and obnoxiously busy. These are the worst of the worst. These awful greed fuckers are buried in their Blackberries and curled up with their Wall Street journal while smugly resenting that there is no first class on the connection flight to Detroit from Cleveland. "A prop plane" you can hear them mutter under their breath. As their suit bag is thrown over the shoulder and they hustle in to order a black coffee or mineral water from the "Newport News and All American Bagel Shop". I role my eyes at them and laugh as if people still ordered shit like mineral water.

  • I have to go to the doctor while I'm here because my hand is definitely messed up. I had shooting pains down through my fingertips last night and on the plane ride here -there were more of them. The old adage of "If you can bend it and move it then it's not broke" does not seem to apply itself to the intricacies that is my hand.

  • She flaunted her life in front of me on Saturday. It wasn't her fault. She was just living. But to me, at that moment, she flaunted that she was living her life and what she shared on a daily basis with me was meaningless and cheap. I felt as if I were non-existent to her. It is ceaselessly entertaining how I am such a fool to have my heart broken and mended every day. I am that cheap of a person. Bought and sold by an idea of something that will never exist. Shameful am I of my actions and my ever-evolving ability to become predictably ridiculous.

  • I added some ghettoness to Federal Hill on Saturday night. You will notice that the Quizno's on light street now has a spidered broken window. See broken hand: above. Welcome to my world of moron.

  • I am seriously thinking about quitting my job and moving again. I'm not too happy with life right now and I don't see anything changing in the near future. There are moments in my life that do not allow for any peace and that peace is my currency to smile. That peace is non-existent. And my peace is different than yours or what you might think to be peace. I don't need to live like a country time lemonade commercial. I have no desire to swing on a porch swing while listening to old-timey country music. Looking in my bank account to see 50 grand doesn't make me sleep better. I want to live on the edge and hard just as I have always done. But I want it to count. Being held accountable is my peace. I am so free right now in terms of not caring about anything that it is senseless for me to attempt realistic happiness. I want to change and evolve. I'm not changing. I'm getting angrier and angrier. My actions are becoming boorish and sad. The company that I keep is far from anything I can relate to. Although trust and love are high within the circle, I will not grow like this. I will not evolve and hence I will die this way. I have no desire to become anyone that I see regularly. I do not emulate or covet what is around me. I am my own person but have always been weak at finding my path. Right now I have no beacon for which to shoot and no light tower by which to warn. I am speeding around a bathtub that I think is an ocean, and I am slowly running out of gas.

  • I have given up on dating and love for the duration of my transition into a place that is peace. I have nothing to give anyone else until I myself am at peace. All I do now is hurt people. Even without lying, my malice is evident in my inability to care.

  • The Super Bowl is something that I could really care less about. Although we had people around us and they were drinking and eating it all seemed stale and forced. It seemed like fleeting days of fields of gold that now had turned green with mildew ,or worse, tarnished because the gold was 80% real at best. The more I look around the more it all seems so misunderstood. I'm not being depressed and I'm not trying to pick a fight or ask for sympathy. I guess my main point is that life, in its essence, is energy. Our energy as a whole, the people I know and love, is wasted and spilled out on the floor. Our energy is flaccid to the point of being a joke. We are walking pariah. We have no real church. Our names our synonymous with jokes and rolled eyes. Our lives are sliding at a rate that soon will become critical mass. Getting holy, joining a gym, eating right, or reading more is not going to save me. I don't need to be saved. I need to be inspired by life and that inspiration is not coming at this base mondane level that consists of fawning, paralysis of the senses, propping up of a self-depricating image, and lawless/recklass behavior centered around insecurities and loneliness.

    That was my weekend - - - what's next?



  • Friday, February 04, 2005

     
    OASIS COME TO MSG!!
    I'm buying the TIX! I have vouched for years people - years and the concert is June 22nd. The tix go on sale the 14th. I need volunteers. I promise you that you will have a good time. I SWEAR! CRAIG! Man they will play their new album but I dont care - oh man - exactly what I need out of life right now is a short lived Oasis concert tour of the east coast. SWEET JESUS! Maybe they'll play Coachella - oh man I just dropped a nut.

     
    Weekend and Such

    So I'm sitting around this morning and I slowly realize that I may be insane. I tried to talk with Erin last night and all that kept coming out of my mouth were these insane sentences followed by a strange self-deprecating laugh that was very - um - disturbing. Anyway - I'm not going to Keller Williams on Saturday - I have decided and I'm only going out to have a drink BY MYSELF this evening, and Sunday I am watching the Super Bowl oh I don't care about the Super Bowl - I'll probably just play poker all day. Anyway - that's my weekend. If your name isn't Doug or if you don't have jokes then don't expect to see me. I like hanging out with Doug. It's refreshing and quite natural. All the way up until the point I tried to fight him.

    Oh yeah let's go over the scenario from last weekend -

    Me bar 2 am + old guy making fun of my music = Me want fight
    Doug + Me want fight + His bar = Doug calm me down mode
    Me x 15 drinks + Obvious Fighting advantage = Test water with insult
    Doug + Test Water with insult = Stern calming
    Me + stern calming = belligerence and an exhaustive temperament

    That's going nowhere but you get the point - Erin made me call him and apologize. LOL - but it was my idea to call and apologize first.



    Thursday, February 03, 2005

     
    Night Swim

    Tongue.
    Dark.
    Cold Sheets.
    Tongue.
    Clean.
    No plumage.
    Let your face get two inches from mine as we slowly grind. Let it be slow. Let it be breathing the same air. We kiss but only as a directional guide to let us know where the shoreline is. Breathing the same air, hands trembling as they run up and down the flanks of our body. I dip my forehead into your neck line and grab both of your hands to push them back over your head. You accept. You always accept. You know where the journey ends. You allow me to steer. Interlocking our fingers tightly, I move my knee under your thigh to lift your legs up into the air. You give a slight siren. Everything moves deeper. Dark water deep. Your tongue. Your face. We kiss. We kiss hard and then slower as if to bring things back to the shore. As if to dock once again. We repeat, hundreds of times. We keep the tide of the evening. We represent the voyage on the water. We are out past the bridge and beyond the sound. Deep into the night. Using our instincts to move. We repeat until the needle is off the compass.




    Wednesday, February 02, 2005

     
    Come Get Your Awful On

    Allrighty folks - I have put up a new blog dedicated to "The hilarity that is online dating. I go out to different "matching" websites and find profiles to assault."

    I would like some feedback on it, so if you have any that would be super totally awesome.

    It's called Junior Varsity Meat Market.

     
    Conversation with Self at 9:52 am

    Me: Ok so you are always bitchin about not doing anything constructive. But you feel constructive sometimes. Where do you get that feeling from?

    Bret: I get it from my blog I guess.

    Me: Right. Well you get it from that and being able to drink a reverse car bomb but more importantly you enjoy writing.

    Bret: Yeah

    Me: So you should follow up on Tim's suggestion and do a little website about making fun of personal ads.

    Bret: YEAH!

    Me: Damn right yeah. It would be funny and an outlet. And you could be constructive even if it is shallow and deprecating to the world. Plus who is better at making fun of people than you? No one that's who! No one baby.

    Bret: Damn straight. Wait... that's awful. But quite true.

    Me: So?

    Bret: So what?

    Me: So go start.

    Bret: I have work to do.

    Me: Come on.

    Bret: You come on.

    Me: Go grab a shitty template off of blogger and start. It'll be easy and damn fun. You know it will.

    Bret: Ok. But first I want to tell you about this idea for an idea about a book

    Me: Who is 'you'. I am 'you'. I mean 'me'. Whoa...getting a little unraveled again aren't we 'us'.

    Bret: Yeah. So anyway this book is taken out of the vein of like Joyce writing because well it has to.

    Me: What the fuck does that mean?

    Bret: It means that it's really hard to understand because that's the point of writing about something insane. It's like taking your fight to the street because the street is just as hard as the fight.

    Me: Riiiiiggghhhtt. Continue

    Bret: I was reading Portrait of an Artist last night for the bazillionth time and I couldn't get past the 10th page again without having to go back to read it again. And then I started looking around at my room and my life and what I surround myself with. I thought about lies and how everyone lies. EVERYONE LIES EVERYDAY! And no one writes about it, at least no one that I have read. People are too proud to admit that they live a lie.

    Me: Are you saying we live a lie?

    Bret: I'm saying that everyone does to an extent. But OH YEAH WE DEFINITELY DO!

    Me: Ok. I can see that.

    Bret: So I was thinking about a story about a guy who lies to himself and the world and to God. But the lies become true in his head and some of the truths about him he thinks are lies. It would be good. I'm going to sit down and try to hash out some ideas now.

    Me: Good idea.

    Bret: Thanks. We should thank Tim.

    Me: Thanks Tim.

    Bret: Yeah Thanks Tim.



    Tuesday, February 01, 2005

     
    Best of Bret: Issue 2

    My match.com obsession took a new turn today. I got so tired of looking at the girl bios that I went over and looked at the men. Oh man did the hilarity ensue. I thought the girls were bad but Jesus, the men are just horrifying.
      im a great guy hands down, fun, witty, hilarious, intelligent, nice, caring, honest, just good to be around. i treat women like princesses, and expect it back (well like a prince in my case cus id look funny in a tiara). Love making my girl when i have one happy, from bein affectionate even in public to givin them a massage when they look like they could use one, even if i just got off work. Most important things to me in a girl is honest, intelligent, nice and fun. and itd be nice if she made me sandwiches theyre my fave.
    So apparently it is important for a guy to seem as though he's a fucking moron. If you describe yourself as intelligent, it would be nice if you attempted to speak in something other than street-eez and even tried to use capital letters WhEn ApPPropppieate. I really get a whole shaven ape thing from most guys. I guess that's what girls like; someone they can boss around.
      Simple. Easy to get along with. Almost boring. Best expereinced live. Been in B-more for five years now. Own a house, one car, one truck, four bicycles.
    I think guys are really confused about what it is to be a guy. I don't know who told them it was OK to cry at the movie "Beaches" and it was fine to admit that they prefer orthopedic shoes, but you know, it really isn't. Jesus Christ, when did they start giving out free neuterings. Sign me up. Take my penis away!
      i like going to bars and clubs its fun but its not realy a place to find quality people im not saying that it cuoldent happen but good luck.i also like to go fishing or just taking cruises on the water when i get the chance to. i would say im a prety easy going guy and defenetly laid back i would like to find someone with same intrests as me.
    First off...what interests are those? And secondly, guys, I know I'm not the greatest speller or anything, but I'd like to think if I was represented in a sexual, social, manner where I was unable to defend myself, then I would consider, with vigor, to try and use a spell checker.

    Anyway, obviously I understand a male's psyche more than a females, but I'm confused by this tone of..., well..., faggotry. (Gay guys are more assertive than this. As a matter of fact, if given my choice, about dating tips, I always look to gay men. Gay men always get what they want...anyway...I'll stop defending writing about gay guys in a way to counteract the animosity and furrowed brows shown to my use of the word "faggotry".) Why don't you guys just break out your woobie and cry because your mom doesn't cook you brownies anymore? I really miss the 50's. That should have been my decade.
      My dream girl is someone who knows how to have a good time either by going out and getting wild or just by chilling at home watching a flick. She aslo definitely has to have a good sense of humor, and be confident in herself. It wouldn't hurt any if they were cute too.
    You! Yeah you! Go kill yourself! Apparently everyone in the world is an easy going person. My profile would seriously open up as, "One Angry Motherfucker most of the time. I'm smarter than you so don't try to boss me around. I've had sex with a lot of women so if you use sex as a weapon or don't enjoy it then go away. I'll make a shit load of money one day. If you are willing to keep your mouth shut and smile a lot then you almost have a shot...." I think that's perfect.
      I would like to meet a woman who can be smart,sexy,suttle,funny and physically energetic. My match would have to be faithful for a mature relationship and be respectful of others around them such as friends and family. Differences in interests are a good thing I believe as well as the similarities between interests or dislikes. A great sense of humor is must because I usually spend my days throwing out quotes and wise cracks with a touch of dry sarcasm. I like someone who is confident enough to make sound judgements and the maturity of taking on the responsiblities for their actions.
    Yeah...umm...5th grade English anyone? Anyone know how to spell "subtle"? Yes, LastSweetGuy93? Umm..yeah...s-u-....t-...t-l-e. Sorry, that is incorrect. This is just rediculous to read. Did he write this in crayon and then scan it in and hit some miracle OCR button. Maybe this guy is Latvian or maybe Bulgarian and the verb, noun, ....semblance of a thought structure is too overwhelming?
      I am one who is looking to have the time of my life. I am persistent in working to be somebody and am looking for someone that would appreciate me for it. I like it when someone is really interested and not looking to waste time. I like to have conversations that are not just about ourselves, yet about everyday life (i.e. news, gossip, culture, some politics and philosophy etc..) I like to listen to all kinds of music (alternative. classic, progressive, country, and even some classical.) Ladies, if this catches your interests give me a sign ; )
    How does this not catch your eye? You just described everyone in the f'n world. You are Mr. Male Guy. I have no idea when the pea pod people came down and sucked our brains out and made us all nervous and sad about our own abilities.
      My perfect "dream date" started from a passion I have had all of my life. For as long as I can remember I would always look to the skies with great admiration for the few lucky people that spent most of their time aloft. As we grow older and begin to develop our careers it gives us opportunity to chase our dreams and that is exactly what I have done. In the fall of 2002, I began a journey that has enhanced my life and I hope that one day it will enhance the life of that special person I meet.
    huh...? I mean seriously...huh? Did my man here just get poetic and shit yo? Damn brother you be keepin it real...man i hads no idears you had that ins you.
      What's to say in here? I'm looking for an honest, upfront woman who has a great sense of humor, is intelligent, and doesn't drink, smoke, or use drugs. That's me, as well, except... I'm not a woman :-P Someone who is open about their feelings without being too over-dramatic, and someone who can appreciate affection - doesn't need 'space' all the time. I'm a very touchy-feely person (and within reason), so those who fear personal contact might not want to say hi. :)
    "I would also like it if you put on my grandmothers underwear and called me 'little Billy'." This guy even scares the shit out of me and all I'm doing is reading. He's got to be in Marines or something.

    These profiles and blurbs are making me think about not only the differences between men and women but how much of an apathetic, overmedicated, consumerist society we really have. I'm not saying that all comes across in these bios, but man, something has to be affecting the way people interact.

    Short observations :
    Girls write more than guys.
    Girls are more specific about their desires and activities, whereas guys could care less and basically just want something warm to come home to.
    Girls are often in photos with friends.
    Guys are often in shirtless photos strewn over a couch with a beer on the table. Or they are apt to be in a profile shot, looking aloof, and unconcerned that they are about to be immortalized.
    Guys are more likely to put their adjectives into long lists that include sports teams and car types, where as girls tend to focus more on personality attributes.
    Guys talk a lot more about their friends and always list them as extremely important, where as girls seem to focus more on family.
    Girls are definitely better writers. Or at least better at expressing themselves without reverting to acronyms and slang yo. "Yo I beez abouts the dopest guy around 8^)...tchyaa..I'm Rick James Bitch....!" Go die!
    Guys tend to use much more slang.


     
    West Wing Should Be a College Class

    So last night I'm watching the Monday night West Wing marathon and they threw out a reference to Franz Ferdinand. Now I always knew the name existed somewhere else besides the one album band tearing up the scene, but I never really thought to look into it and then last night in the episode called "25", the one Sorkin won an Emmy for, they reference the Arch Duke's nephew. So for those who have forgotten their 9th grade history, here we go: Franz Ferdinand was the nephew of the Emporer of Austria and was killed by a German assasin. This murder invoked treaties that Austria had with Russia causing Russia to declare war on Germany in which France was also constituted to war with Germany via Russian treaties and thus World War 1. Anyway - - I have learned so much crap from that show. I really do think it's one of the best written shows of all time.

     
    19 seconds

    My feet hit the air. Not the street you ass. Not the street. My feet hit the air and my head laid looking at the ceiling with the dusty fan that had yet to be cleaned since I had moved in a year to the day. A year to the day? How did I know that? My feet hit the air like bricks being tossed out of windows. They don't exist after they hit the ground but mid air they have so many possibilities. They can shatter, destroy, maim, damage, and even kill. "Just" by Radiohead comes on my earphones and all I want to do is not walk and not smell. All I want to do is fly like a brick. A few seconds of awe while you wait to see what it will destroy; the object it hits or itself.

     
    The Man Who Makes Snowballs

    Yesterday he was there and I thought him an anomaly. But this morning when I was walking passed the harbor I saw him again. He is a little Asian man minus a name. He was doing aerobics with his arms as though he were creating a human windmill. His old coat and old hat made me, from afar, assume he was homeless. As I got closer to him I saw that he was wearing horned rim glasses and his clothes ceased to be old and tattered and took on the bourgeois/bohemian term "vintage". He greeted me.

    "Good morning to you sir."
    I replied, a little startled, "Right on brosef." To which he snorted and said without hesitation, "I'll show you brosef."

    In his hands were snowballs that he had made. This little man flung a snow ball as hard as he could out into the bay. It went about 30 feet. The startling thing was that my words were the catalyst. I think they were the catalyst. I'm sure eventually he would have launched the ball but it was interesting that my words got his 70's hush puppies moving.

    He walked back to the bench with his brown corduroys making the standard brown corduroy song, 'Swiiizhhh Swiiizhhh Swiiizhhh'. He sat down, crossed his legs and opened what appeared to be a Harpers magazine. I laughed and thought to myself, "Now that's how to start a day."




    Favorites List
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    Quote(S)
    Like the guy with the beard? YES - like the guy with the beers. What? Yep

    Bands That I Check Schedules For
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    My Greatest Hits (that's so lame)

    The time I almost killed a child
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    The Cosmic Clash of the Red Sox and Cubs
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    Starting corporate line-up
    Google Bio
    Do you know me? List 1 / List 2 / List 3
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    Funniest Corporate Story Ever
    Striped Shirts and the Fucks that Wear Them
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    NEW!!!
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    Oasis Album Revew
    The Art of Tipping
    Starting Fires With Grass Stains
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