Saying Goodbye
Sunday night was the last night at work for a little lady named Susan Worley who had worked at Romeo's for nearly ten years. She was working the night I went in to inquire about a job back in '97. She is a super sweet, smart and sassy person that pretty much e'rbody likes.
Then it was no surprise that the whole cast showed up to see her off. Damn near all the people who are still in town and who still hang with the Romeo's crowd showed up on Sunday night to wish Susan well in her new job. They also came to throw whip cream and silly string on her in what could be considered the most important Romeo's tradition. Whenever someone leaves the restaurant the tradition states that they shall be pied and pie they shall wear. Sometimes the mess that is heaped upon a person at their departure has elements that exceed the normal ingredients of you average everyday pie. You know, gross food ingredients, like leftovers form the day, chicken juices, chocolate syrup, all manner of stuff that you don't want to get in your hair or on your clothes. We stuck purely to whipped cream and silly string and water for Sue. I personally have left Romeo's twice but I have only been pied once. I guess that's the limit.
Anyways, when I got there at ten fifteen there was already quite a crowd assembled. And more people showed up after me so including the staff that was had been working there may have been twenty five or thirty people gathered up at the bar. The pie attack went smoothly and was a lot of fun. Susan had the foresight to bring a shower cap which I think was a first. We hit her with a whole mess of whip cream and four cans of silly string. There were also some super soakers water cannons involved. That happened pretty early and after that we proceeded to get drunk in earnest. I fell off my barstool twice. My ass still hurts.
I mention these events cause it was a hella good time and even though its Wednesday after the Sunday debacle, I am still feeling the love. Susan was of course touched. In an unrelated story there was a lot of touching going around that night. There were speeches and toasts and picture taking and rollicking laughter and there was love, lots and lots of love. Everybody that has worked together at Romeo's is so close and I feel so lucky to be friends with so many of those folks. Some of it has to do with the fact that the owners are so cool. Romeo's is owned by a young couple named Jas and Christine. They cultivated such a family atmosphere over the years that sometimes when you're hanging out with the Romeo's crew it just seems like family. Well family except not so annoying. We were all having so much fucking fun on Sunday that things got a little out of hand.
At one point Christine was behind the bar with the bottle of Grey Goose in her hand and she was toasting and taking little swigs and getting more on her shirt than she was getting in her mouth. That was some funny shit. And sometime around twelve thirty, Yvette took Christine home and that's when things really got out of hand. The super soaker came back out and there was some kind of waterfight and I got caught in the crossfire. And there was wrestling and folks were grabbin ass and the chairs were flying. I was all "You guys are gonna have to clean this mess up." Cause I obviously ain't cause I don't work here no more. And even though I had to work the next day I stayed till two thirty in the morn.
I was hella hung over on Monday, but it was totally worth it. All day I was high on the love that saturated that gathering like the super soakers that had saturated my clothes.
And I am terribly thankful for my wonderful friends.
|
Hot Ears
I get this feeling whenever I try to do math.
Its kind of like the essence of frustration
Or the manifestation of frustration.
I get all hot in the ears and I get mad and then my cognitive processes shut down.
That's the same feeling I'm getting whenever I try to work on my fiction story.
And then I have to ask myself, How bad do you want to do this really?
|
Hizzah
I finally got me some permanent links in my sidebar.
I imagine that thurr is just a partial list
Thanks Jefe
|
Fiction is Hard
OK, so um,.. Last Thursday I got reconnected with my friend
Shafer through blogging. I got to him through our mutual friend
Robert. All these people are Texas people who now live in New York city. They're all a little uppity if you know what I mean.
God damned city slickers.
Anywho's, so Shafer read some of my blog and decided that I might be a good candidate for a story submission to
this site. He has a friend who works for Nerve and she is looking for sexy story submissions. As some of you may or may not know I
sometimes write
sexy stories. But until this point I have stuck almost entirely to non fiction accounts of shit that really happened to me. That stuff is easy to write and easy to frame. I don't even really do any revisions of that stuff. I just bang it out and post it. Some of the shit that has happened to me is pretty interesting thereby making the storys interesting. But I found out this weekend as I sat down to write a fiction story to submit to Nerve that writing fiction is hard.
Its hard to make it believable.
Its hard to make it interesting.
Its hard to not be too ambitious and turn a simple scenario into a shitstorm of useless details.
Its hard to make up names that fit characters.
Its hard to not sound like a cliche hack.
So I got about halfway through a tale that I think might suck, its about two thousand words right now. That's about two and a half pages. And I spent like five hours on two and a half pages. In comparison that Grace story is like four pages long and that only took me an hour and a half to write. I told Shafer that I would send him something today but I clearly need more time and I shouldn't even be blogging I should be working on the story. I sent Shafer the following e-mail in my mild panic this morning, enjoy.
Hey Shafer
I learned a hard lesson this weekend.
And what was that lesson you ask?
Well in a nutshell ~Its way harder to write a GOOD fiction story than it is to bang out an account of something that actually happened~
SO I have this story that I'm working on and I don't know if its good or not (I suspect not) and I definitely need a couple more days to work on it to give it any chance of being good. Anyways, I hope you didn't tell your friend A--- that I am a good writer cause I sure would hate to make you out to be a liar. I have some questions and I would like to talk to you on the phone. I got your number from Maneesh yesterday so I will ring you tonight and will hope you are available for questioning.
Some of my questions may or may not include
~How many words should this story be?
~Have I already missed the boat by not finishing the story for today?
~How much sex is too much sex?
~What are you wearing, if anything?
~Who is John Galt?
Besides I think it would be soothing for me to hear you voice so write back and let me know the optimum time frame for a line of questioning as such.
Your Brother in Words
Matthew P Coletrain
|
Anticipation
How is it that Friday afternoon is so much longer than all the rest of the afternoons of the week?
That's a rhetorical question, cause I know why.
Cause God made it that way.
And anyone who disagrees with me is an infidel and will most likely perish in a lake of fire, and you heathens will be cast in that lake of hell-fire and damnation at 12:01 on a Friday afternoon and you won't be let out until 5:15 or until your work is finished. And then tell me which is the longest afternoon of the whole week and why it is that way. It may indeed seem like,.. oh I don't know,,. an eternity.
If I could BE any blogger it would have to be
Tony.
and if I could BE WITH any blogger it would have to be
Raymi.
and if I could HANG OUT any blogger it would have to be
Tyranny but I would request the Medium T cause the Extra Spicy Atomic T sweats too much and has a runny fuckin nose. Respect my man, wicked respect.
|
Blasphemy
This one time me and
Shafer smoked a joint rolled from a page of a bible.
We chose Revelations,.. for some reason that sounded most ominous.
Now that I view the herb as a blessing from God I'm cool with all that.
At the time however it seemed scandalous even if it was scandal on a small scale.
My defense in front of God was gonna be, "Shafer made me do it."
|
Intentions
So I lied.
That iron post about my hella boring weekend...,
a fabrication, a story, a tall tale, fiction, you who have believed me have been bamboozled.
I had the best of intentions.
My words will be my bond in most cases but in this case once again the best laid plans of mice and men have fallen terribly short of the mark. What I mean to say is that not only did I not purchase an iron but I did not clean my apartment, I did not read the manual that came with my new love seat, I didn't get anything done on that list except wash the dishes and clip my toenails. Even there I failed rather miserably cause I had promised to audio blog my toenail clipping session and alas I did not as evidenced by the lack of any audio posts.
Instead, I spent Friday celebrating the birthday of Ben P. He was in a rather subdued mood when I got to his house after work. But after some delicious Thai food and a call to the dope man we were both invigorated and ready to tear the town apart. However, we settled on drinking ourselves silly at the pool hall and staying up way,. I say way... too late. This was not a promising start to a weekend that I had set aside for domestic chores. Already by Saturday morning I was totally useless and I pretty much resigned myself to a delicate melange of total laziness and utter tom-foolery, which if properly doled and separated makes for an excellent weekend strategery.
Despite the late late hour of beddy bye time on the Fri of days, Saturday had to be tackled early due to some charity work that needed handling. To be specific, it was Kelon's bday on Sunday and there was a grand barbecue of medium size and fashion and I had promised to supply one of the kegs. Of course I work at a beer distributor so the keg was in the bag it needed only to be picked up. The caveat there was that the keg had to be picked up before the noon hour as the warehouse closes at noon, or one at the latest. So I had to drag myself from my abode at the hour appointed by Kelon (cause he had the truck) and handle that keg business with expediency and alacrity. So that lead me right into Saturday afternoon,..
the grandest afternoon of all time.
Its kind of hard to ignore the sheer power of Saturday afternoon, especially when its sunny. So then I found myself at Kelon's house, which is a house of eternal tom-foolery, with Mr Findlay in full effect. And Mr Findlay turns to me, and in his most hospitable tone says, would you like a beer? And I, having sold my self control to the devil back in 1991 for a complete set of Desert Storm trading cards, retort to Mr. Findlay, why Yes I would like a beer. It is Saturday afternoon is it not? and I am a bit parched. Yes yes a thousand times yes. And so there I am in the den of Key and Findlay at noon on Saturday and Mr Findlay sparks it up and hands it to me and there I am drinking and smoking the breakfast of champions.
Not 24 hours after I had proclaimed to the world that I would begin in earnest my battle with wrinkles I had been chloroformed by the weekend and at that moment I probably couldn't have drawn a picture of an iron with an overhead projector and a cheat sheet and what's more is that I didn't care. That's how fast those intentions got subverted and deep sixed. After I had about 3 too many afternoon brews over there, I made my way home and quickly found the insides of my eyelids. I laid down for what I thought would be a nap of about an hour. I looked at the clock and it was three thirty. When I opened my eyes the clock read seven forty. That in itself was OK cause I needed the rest but I had promised to be at a dinner engagement at Ben and Tiffany's at around seven and even in my malaise I knew that I was late. I quickly showered and called them and told them to start without me but I would be there soon.
When I got over to Ben and Tiffany's they looked incredulous that I wasn't the first one there, cause I usually am. We ate the best pizza ever and continued our unspoken drinking contest which in the annals of time Tiffany had won the week before. Leyla showed us video of her trip to Turkey. She was a little self conscious about the production but needlessly I tell ya. The video was super cool and it was done in a choppy, kind of 'camera on just the right things' kind of way. There were all these quick cuts between scenes where the camera had been turned on and off really fast and the images therein were enticing. Istanbul looks fun. Then Kiko came over and we played some pool and I somehow made it home. It got late really fast that day. Saturday you never last long enough.
On Sunday I slept late then went to the gym and then did the dishes and by three o the clock I was ready for sommore tom foolery. I clipped my nails and sipped from my Sunday Bloody. I got over to the Bar B Que around five and had a marvelous time there until about ten thirty at which time I hit my wall and I dipped out. That's my M.O. at a lot of social functions. I get sacued to the point where I figure the cost benefit ratio of me leaving without saying goodbye, to me trying to say goodbye to all the beautiful humans that I call my friends and lovers is skewed heavily in favor of me just dipping out. So that's what I did. I dipped. Kelon says to me yesterday all hurt sounding "you left without sayin goodbye." and I was all "yeah, sorry about that man, I hit the wall and that's it sometimes. I looked for you but you weren't around in the backyard so I dipped." and he was all, "that's cool, I know how that goes some times."
If I am ever at a party of yours and I leave without saying goodbye, it ain't personal, just know that I have hit the wall and the wounded bear phase has begun.
So basically, even though I broke my word on my weekend plans and hijacked my original intentions, I had an excellent weekend nonetheless.
Such a good weekend that I was too brain dead to blog yesterday. That's the real sin.
Although I still don't have an iron.
|
Sometimes
Sometimes I wish my head was a greater percentage of my body weight.
|
Iron
No not like
iron I mean
iron as in I need one. I am an old man and I have made it this far in life without owning an iron. All of the sudden however I feel like I should break down and buy one. I hate wrinkles. I have combatted wrinkles for years with the tumble method. Right after the clothes come out of the dryer you simply fold while hot and wrinkles melt away into your compulsiveness. However, as of late, with the purchase of a few shirts that don't want to comply with the tumble method, I have been feeling pressure to just fucking buy an iron. And maybe also and ironing board. Maybe its because I am getting old and feeling the need to someday find a mate so I won't be the old creepy bachelor on the block. Maybe its because I am finally caving in to some social norms like wearing a pressed shirt to a wedding or a bris. Or maybe its because when my sister was in town she asked to borrow my iron and when I told her that I didn't have one she looked at me as though I were a poor pathetic street urchin come a beggin for alms. I didn't like being looked at with such pity. If the purchase of a 20 dollar appliance will spare me from the throes of social embarassment and rampant pity parties in my honor then maybe this weekend I will go to Target and take my pick of the litter.
So check out my plans for the weekend. Prepare to be envious.
~ wash dishes
~ clean apartment
~ buy iron
~ iron shirts
~ take my metamucil
~ attend mass
~ get a haricut
~ watch six feet under
~ suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
~ read the manual that came with my new loveseat
~ clip toenails
Wadda ya think? Some exciting stuff, no? If you call and I don't answer it probably cause I couldn't hear you over the rumble of the iron. I promise to audio blog my toe nail clipping session. I wanna share the music of me with the masses. And they say bloggers are narcissistic.
|
Catatonic
Some days the internet is boring.
I like to organize my workout in a similar fashion as I would organize the colors and shapes in a painting.
And posts like this ain't helping.
|
Tendonitis
I thought it was funny, uh not 'haha' funny but kinda 'hmmm, ain't that a bitch' funny, that there was a special sneak preview of Will Smith's new movie I-Robot during the Method and Red show last night on the FOX network. Especially after a certain underrated blogger made a direct comparison between Mr Smith's old show and Mr. Mef's new show just last week. I'm not naming any names and I'm certainly not providing handy links but if you scroll down to a post titled Fox Summer Programming and you rub those two remaining brain cells together you might just figure out who this underrated blogger is with his superhuman sharp shooter observations skillz and all dat. Its like Angelina said, "they're BLACK and they live around a bunch of WHITE PEOPLE!!! talking indecipherable slang, enforcing hood politics and just generally getting ghetto. around a bunch of WHITE PEOPLE!!!" and I'm all whoo whoo hahahahaha, cause I'm white you see. She and I are being mortally sarcastic for all those out their who actually think that kind of formulaic crap is gonna entertain America again.
And Meth, let me formally welcome you to your "adult contemporary phase." In another twist of fate, the premier episode of Method and Red featured Kenny Loggins, aka Mr Adult Contemporary himself. The foreshadowing is scary, no?
In a completely unrelated story, my knee hurts. I was afraid that after my big weekend with Fun Holly that I had torn my meniscus repair, which would mean a trip back under the scope. I am a dancing machine to those who didn't know, (now act like ya know). But I talked to my physical therapist this morning, I described my pains and he was pretty sure that I was just experienceing the normal tendonitis associated with the type of repair that I had. Last night I was totally stressing about it. My mind had my body totally whipped into a froth of hopelessness and despair. But that's how I often feel at bedtime. I don't mind the pain I just didn't want a major setback. So let's hope Jimmy my physical therapist is right, simple post-op tendonitis. Nuthin to worry about mate. He said that for the patella graft they take about a third of the patella tendon for rebuilding that acl. And now that I am left with just two thirds of that sucker its only natural that I would experience some mild discomfort. All this has left me with the distinct sensation of getting older.
Time makes you older even children get older and I'm gettin older too.
Oh and Paris and Nicole didn't make Texas look like too much of a shithole and I was glad about that.
|
28 years & 100 posts
born ~ dust ~ thunderstorms ~ lubbock ~ flat land all the way around
fish ~ grandpa ~ mimosa tree ~ back swing ~ basement ~ Lubbock ~ dust
birthday cakes that grandma makes ~ and running on my toes
toys ~ bikes ~ star wars ~ e.t. ~ swings ~ playground ~ prairie dogs ~ and dust
the fair ~ school ~ the paddle ~ the principal ~ the bus across town
moving here ~ moving there ~ cicadas in the summer ~ playing in the alley
steve ~ tanned ~ bb guns ~ nat williams ~ mr lockett ~ fps and om
cartoons and comic strips ~ spiral notebooks that suddenly become contraband
when the thunderstorms don't move the parks fill up with flood water
new bicycles ~ coors light cans ~ one day pops just don't come home
so we live with nana and papa and poor sherri having such a hard time
latch-key kid ~ the mall ~ drawing ~ alone a lot ~ comedy
i taped stand up comics till the vcr broke
practice for my shot at the tonight show in the mirror
student council president gets sent home on the last day of school
cussing ~ new dad then new mom ~ bitter ~ stay over at nana and papa's a lot
junior high ~ cruel ~ magic and dave ~ always obsessed with hair and clothes
theater ~ mandy ~ honors classes that still verge on boring
youth group and jesus ~ conviction ~ religion ~ masturbation and playboy
split level house ~ dj and the radio interview ~ archery ~ mark
i can't stand it at home ~ have to cut grass in the summer ~ we mowed the projects
invitation ~ respond to call to ministry ~ move to arlington
no friends ~ endless summer ~ me and holly just wasting away on tv
church camp ~ courtney ~ first love ~ courtney's pretty calves
separation from friends ~ new school not friendly ~ no laughs in class
i wonder where all the people who think i am funny have gone
weightlifting ~ wrestling ~ sucking weight ~ depressed through the winter
julie ~ shanae ~ kirsten ~ joy ~ lisa ~ all those girls and i only thought of courtney
crutch ~ something that wasn't there and wasn't here ~ dj comes to visit
the summer of sweet sixteen is still one of the best in my mind
campbell ranch ~ making out on the porch ~ the first time a beer tasted good
after weigh in for weekend wrestling tournament ~ always wishing i was somewhere else
high school sucks ~ wasted time ~ too much darkness ~ stupid seminary
can't stand it at home ~ want to go back to lubbock for senior year
i go back to lubbock and break my mother's heart ~ still for the best
not what i expected back in L ~ courtney and me fight sometimes
go to austin to check out ut in october ~ i make my decision right then
i only apply for one school ~ i declare my major right away
dave introduces me to marijauna ~ courtney doesn't want me to do it
addictive personality ~ true ~ she is right ~ hard headed taurus i
graduate from high school ~ move to austin ~ sharon and tommy's house
simkins and jaime ~ smoke and smoke ~ jay keith maneesh rajeev jonathan
courtney goes to atm and we become very different people
i am hit by a drunk driver one weekend in arlington ~ herb in the trunk
mexic arte museum ~ hippie matt ~ living on my own is love ~ freedom
summer in L hanging with zack ~ ashley rita brent cocaine ~ good times
but what i didn't know is that the good times were yet to begin in earnest
pearl street co-op ~ my crew ~ it forms naturally ~ now the good times begin
lena katya marcus jennie eamon carlos john pascal mattias and charlie branson
turns out the rest of the co-op hated our exclusionary practices
they even had a name for us ~ the cool kids ~ we were just the crew
i'm gonna chunk you in the pool ~ even in the dead of winter ~ katya's january swim
the year is too short ~ their are lots of tears shed in goodbyes
with the money i have from the drunk driving fracas i go to europe
england france spain switzeland luxmbourg holland belgium ~ marcus' family
travel opened my mind ~ wider than even college education ~ i love travel
i can sleep in any bed any where ~ i want to travel more ~ discovery
back in austin ~ co-op again but without my peeps ~ just ain't the same
casi and shana ~ i like their house ~ me and casi get down
casi leaves for savannah ~ i take her place at the house ~ shana drinks
shana moves out ~ the house is mine ~ roommate after roommate ~ i love my little house
turn 21 ~ i go to russia for two months ~ lena ~ we talk of broken hearts and patrick
be careful the doors are closing the next station is gorky park
we go to st petersburg ~ sochi ~ stay in hotels in strange places
lena and i only begin to fall in love ~ i leave ~ she goes to africa ~ i cry
still smoking spliffs ~ vegetarian ~ central market ~ cooking ~ and art school drags on
more art ~ less art ~ judd ~ some more cocaine ~ eece good ~ trudys
tequila haze for junior year ~ junior year lasts for two ~ ashlesha
one day i go to austin java with scott and i meet evonne
evonne who i will always love ~ evonne who i should have married
evonne and i meet at lunch and have sex between classes ~ so beautiful
evonne
i bring her flowers every time i go see her ~ unspoiled things ~ untainted
evonne goes to germany to study for a year ~ the beginning of the end for me and evonne
i visit ~ she has a lover in bamburg ~ we see him on the street ~ she dodges
we go to prague ~ we don't feel comfortable with her friends ~ we leave them their
i visit again in the summer ~ she meets me in london ~ it still seems like love to me
we go to amsterdam ~ ceramics conference ~ travel fellowship ~ no registration
she don't like me high ~ contention ~ sex on a train ~ berlin
her grandmother's house ~ berlin is beautiful like evonne ~ swansea
back in austin again ~ we try ~ she girls her way out of it ~ lies
my heart breaks ~ i can't go anywhere in austin without thinking of her ~ more spliffs
senior year of school ~ i don't even know what art looks like ~ transmedia
graduation from college ~ internship with granite house ~ 501 post
i start cycling ~ lena writes about going to graduate school at san jose state
i visit lena when she gets state side ~ four years have passed ~ i house
i fall in love with the bay area ~ come back to austin and resign ~ meet ezra
the unknown is my friend again ~ one bike and two bags ~ no job
no place to live ~ only one contact ~ jenny ~ the first of two
san francisco ~ no job and no place to live ~ peter and jesse and the sunset
boca rotis ~ dg systems ~ paul k ~ wicked weed ~ transmedia
and i meet angelina and we drop e and stay up til sunday and go to coachella
and it all slips by like a hand full of sand ~ salt and vinegar chips and blissed out
and days on the beach ~ and angelina does handstands and gets mad when i move up the hill
jeff saunders and will deiss ~ and mat and harper ~ and then nina and jim
hamotam ~ and the white rabbit introduces me to the rabbit hole ~ chards
spun the fuck out ~ the end up ~ lauren martin ~ and jen gro
some days we go out to treasure island and party and forget
one day in the heart of babylon i meet chau ~ at first no then yes in menlo park
she lies to me so much it makes me lose my mind ~ because i care
and slowly i learn not to care ~ and i go deeper down the hole
hamotam can't take me ~ i find i am fine without hamotam ~ i meet lum
lum is good to me ~ better than any girl has been before
i am so far down the rabbit hole i take lum's kindness for granted
ezra asks to see angelina ~ we fall out over that and that's the end of me and ez
sadness begins stalking the lands of my soul ~ i drown sorrows in electronica and c
i move in with will ~ once again so far down the hole i take kindness for granted
jaime comes to visit and plants the seeds of "come home" in my mind
i break up with jen ~ we get back together ~ perfect but flawed we are
one day after many days without sleep i lose my shit and end up in jail
the worst things often are best cause some times they save your life
i go to flash's ranch and work on a project for burning man
i quit my job at transmedia ~ i lose my mind ~ jenny goes to burning man
i stay in sf to look for a job ~ i cannot find one ~ i am running out of money
my mom says come home ~ i know in my heart it is the only thing i can do
it breaks my heart to leave lum and the bay
back in texas ~ no more drugs no more dancing no more beats ~ depression
i sleep 12 hours a day for months ~ i visit lubbock and my mom
i come down to austin to see if i can rebuild my seratonin stores
first romeos ~ ashley junior trent tiffany and my new friend kelon
then exercise ~ after five months i start to remember ~ reconnect with ben and meet tiff
i remember what it was like to be naturally high
some dalliances in drugs but mostly just beer and smoke
living with jaime and erin ~ soccer ~ waiting table sucks ~ i meet lisa
we become friends ~ she leaves for alaska and give me her job ~ design for beer
now its like life after life
and every time i think its over it starts again and its always better
and last summer i started this blog
and its been almost a year
and this is post number 100
and there is over 40,000 words
and life has just begun
again
dust
|
Opinions
In my opinion, I had a fun weekend with my sister Fun Holly. You can't not have fun with a gal like Holly. If you aren't having as much fun as her, which you most certainly are not, then just being around her helps even the sorriest of sods have more fun than they expected when they got out of their sad sacks this morn. There was drinking and carousing and I didn't have to beat down anybody for stepping to Fun Holly with the wrong attitude. Not that she can't take of herself and not that I really need to beat anyone down for her its just that as her big brother I at least have to offer my "beat that ass down in front of all these nice folks" services if some fool is on the interact with a lack of respect. Savvy?
I learned things about Fun Holly that I never knew before. Did you know that Fun Holly is a conservative? I don't mean that she hates to waste cottage cheese or that she is fiscally thrifty. Nope, Fun Holly is a "I'm gonna vote for Bush cause I think he has done a good job and is a strong President" Conservative. You would think that those beliefs would conflict with her Job as Fun Holly, but they don't, she is still hella fun. It was kind of shocking to hear those values coming out of the mouth of a young, seemingly hip person, but its OK. She is my sister and I love her and no matter who she votes for in this election or the next or the next I will still love her. Now we know that we don't really see eye to eye politically and that is that. We both noticed that we are surrounded by communities of like minds and political views and we both noticed that there are very few dissenting opinions within our respective communities. I live in Austin and she lives in Lubbock, C'est La Vie. She had never seen a Michael Moore film like ever so on Saturday we watched
Bowling for Columbine. She liked it a lot and agreed to go see
Fahrenheit 911 in the theaters. She had said that she wasn't going to see it till it was out on video but I hope
Columbine changed her mind. I guess that's what the Neo-Cons are saying if they don't want to seem totally closed minded~
"I'll see it when it comes out on video."
Oh you mean after the elections. Well that's just great, its like the willingly blind voting for the perennially dumb. I think that may be an American tradition.
I would like to apologize to Fun Holly that she read some things in this blog that disturbed her as my little sister. There will henceforth be a rating system that will keep Holly from reading the posts that might disturb. Watch for the indicator that reads
NFH or Not for Holly.
Furthermore I would like NOT to apologize to some of my "friends" that have read things in this blog that disturbed them. This blog is a writing excercise for ME and for an audience that didn't come here to judge. I have decided to record some of the more interesting events in my life as they occurred. We have all made mistakes and none of us live spotless, yea, sinless lives. The interesting events are oftentimes salacious or bawdy or even outside the law. I make no excuses and make no apologies especially to folks that haven't read my stuff and have unfortunately passed judgment based on gossip accounts. More importantly, if you have an opinion on a post there is a handy system of comments that you can make your opinion known. Please use commenting system and leave your opinion here.
That brings me to an important point. I have ditched the Blogger comments cause in my opinion they suck, and I have replaced them with the far superior Haloscan commenting system. I want to hear from you.
Judge not Lest ye be Judged~
you know
from the bible
|
Fox Summer Programming
I watch Tee Vee sometimes. I like it. It helps me turn off my brain when I have been designing and marketing and blogging and doing all kinds of thinky type stuff all damn day.
I listen to the music of
Method Man sometimes. His 1994 solo release Tical was pretty damn good but Tical 2000 was just OK and well besides his work with the Wu Tang Clan I had pretty much written off Mr. Mef as a serious hip-hop artist. I have felt like for the past few years and especially since the Right Guard commercials that Meth and his ubiquitous buddy Red had entered what I would call their adult contemporary phase.
When I saw the ads for
this I was sure it was gonna be a train wreck. And I was right. I watched it last week, the premier episode, the format is formulaic and its not very funny and well the show just kind of sucks. But much like a train wreck I just couldn't take my eyes off it. I watched it again last night. I think Paris and Nicole who came on right before them turned my brain into guacamole and I was just unable to change the channel or turn the damn thing off. On second look I would reinforce my premonitions and my initial response and say 'that show sucks.' I think the characters like Mef's Mom and the Neighbor Lady are flimsy and the writing is bad and Meth and Red seem like caricatures of themselves. There used to be a successful show with a similar formula, it was called 'The Fresh Prince of Bel Air.' The star of that show, a Mr. Will Smith, was never taken seriously as a rapper again. He may never have been taken seriously in the first place, but that's not the point. I just wonder if Meth is ready to be fully engaged in this his 'adult contemporary phase.' I wonder if he is aware of the gravity of this career move. I wonder if the public is going to embrace this piece of crap show. I wonder if Red is ever gonna be anything but Meth's lackey. These are the critical things that clutter my mind.
Tical
|
Heat Way
It's hot.
It ain't Hotlanta but none the less its hot.
If I were an animal (huh, like I'm not) but if I were a less bipedal, maybe more furry, maybe a less wordy beast of an animal, I would totally hibernate during the Summer. I like swimming but that's the best part of Summertime and that's about it. I get sluggish in this heat. It ain't even hot like it has been in the past. In the summers of 2000, 2001, and 2002 there were at least 30 days of over 100 degree temperatures recorded at Camp Mabry. And the summers of 2000 and 2001 had over forty days of over 100 degree temperatures.
This year we've only had one.
That's pretty sweet but it's still hot.
And then come the skeeters, get away from me you fuckin' skeeters.
To deet or not to deet that is the question.
I finished
The Book of Illusions last night. I know I started it a long time ago but during that time I had surgery and I was on vicodin and I finished a different book that I was halfway through when I started the Auster book and so it took me a while to complete. Honestly I was savoring the Auster novel cause I love his writing so much and I hadn't read a new work of his in about three years. His shit has me captivated and it has for about a decade now. Someday I might work through the kinks in my writing and become a modern day master like him. Everybody has their dreams, right? I will now go out and get a copy of
Oracle Night.
There are common themes that run through all of Auster's work. There is death, loss, travel in the US, depression, redemption, coincidence and synchronicity. All those things are in all his novels not necessarily in that order. It seems to me that he constructs his fiction around the skeleton of his personal experience in a way that although the different novels appear to be different beasts they all have the same endoskeleton, plus or minus a zyphoid process. There are these moments in his stories where the events seem mundane but all of the sudden something happens that is both expected and unexpected and that dichotomy of events takes the reader to a place where they can see the story as a universal experience. A mundane series of events suddenly becomes a model or allegory for something much greater. There is always lot's of interlocking mysteries in his work. I can't wait to pick up the next book.
This will not be the last time that I write about Paul Auster in this blog.
I was driving by a Pentecostal Korean church today. I knew it was a Korean assembly from the Korean writing on the billboard and on the side of the churchhouse. I knew it was Pentecostal cause I can read English and it said Pentecostal right out front. It occurs to me that I like it when Asians praise Jesus. I like to praise Jesus myself but I don't think its for everybody and I don't push it on anyone. But whenever I see a Chinese, Vietnamese or Korean house of worship (I have never seen a Japanese Christian church) I always think...
"Hey Look at that, Jesus is just alright with them too."
Course I also really dig the teachings of the Tao Te Ching and the Buddha so then I think.
"I bet they would tell me that I was going to Hell if they knew how liberal my beliefs are..."
cause I know how churchy people think.
See what the heat will do. It will drive you right off your topic.
|
Exception
The post below, titled Anomaly,
that's an excellent example of why I shouldn't blog under wacked out circumstances.
I got all fucked up on Friday night and wrote that post in my malaise.
It sucks.
That's just my personal opinion.
Maybe its best that I only write at work and thereby only write in my right mind.
Maybe its best that I don't have a computer at home.
Anywho's I burned off enough brain cells on Friday that I am having a hard time ramping back up towards sanity and contentment. Just a taste of what shit used to be like for me before my self imposed Texas Rehab.
Gimme a couple more days I'll be back.
and be careful out there.
|
Anamoly
Deep down in the easily accsessible shallows
of a place called **Party District Gaggacctica Proper**, one time
The peace is kept by the beats and the lunar love
of Senor Sol, that's me
and to her he say 'you so so fine'
And Senor Sol say this in the cosmic
and the clearest peirce of caustic rhyme
Wade down in the shallows with your brother one time
If I realized where Senor Sol might take me in my time
I would ride and roll and send and stroll and I would keep this path of mine
Cause rudeness breaks it down
and if you're feelin me that's fine
But I don't talk of the righeous-delic walk
if I wasn't runnin with the kind
The kind of crew that's feelin true
and no doubt lookin after you
and leaves no sweet soul behind
the refugees of chronic trees
find each other in sweet life time
~This was written from Gaggacctica Proper
now come my selection~
|
Smuggled
Yester Eve my man H brought over a small chunk of proper Moroccan Hashish, which I haven't partoked in way too long. I LOVE hashish.
He left a bit for me and I just can't fucking wait to get home and smoke that blessed black business. I wish hash was more accessible in the States. It would make sense that we would have some folks here in the lower forty eight that could make some. But alas there seems to be a general lack of knowledge on the subject and there is a definitely a void in practice. I think maybe the penalties are a lot higher for being caught with hash. I think maybe that's the reason we don't see much solid in these parts. How I long for Europa Europa.
So we toked up and went down to Egos for a couple drinks. They were charging a fiver to get in cause
Jane Bond was playing. We decided that was cool cause we were already there even though we weren't there to listen to music.
So H and I played a couple games of pool and while we were balling it up I got a little infatuated by Miss Jane Bond. I have heard of her but I had never heard her play and sing. She Rocks. There was hardly anybody in the place and it sort of seemed like she was singing right to me. She finished a set and she was sitting at the bar all by herself and it just so happened that I needed another drink so I bellied up to the bar next to her. I said what I always say to barkeeps from here to Kalamazoo, I said "Guiness Please." Then I turned to Jane and asked if I could bum a smoke. This had a twofold purpose, I wanted a smoke and had forgotten mine and I also wanted to strike up a conversation with her.
The conversation didn't last long but it was really pleasant and she was super flirty. She got up to got to the ladies room and she said to me and H, "I'll be right back, don't go anywhere handsome boys." I turned to H and said "Did she just say what I think she said?" and He was all "Well I understood at least one word but it sounded stellar."
By the time she got back from the ladies room her band was waiting for her on stage and she began her second set. I spent the rest of the evening sitting on the barstool grinning like a fool. And she was singing right to me at that point. And I think I missed out on another sexy opportunity cause I was all wrapped up in the singer. And then H had to go and so we left and I hope I see Jane Bond again real soon.
The rains are gone and the sun is out and I'm all ~ Shazaaam.
|
