the birdman cometh

Banter? I just met her...



Thursday, May 30, 2002

Everyone looks at me weird here. I feel as if I am a foreigner. It's not like a "Get the hell out of my neighborhood," kind of look but more of a "Don't touch it you might hurt it," look. I feel like a specimen on display...minus the pins and label and glass case and entry fee.

My parents don't look at me that way though...they smile and say, "We're so glad you're here." And I say, "Me too. Do you have any Sweet Tea, ma?" She just looks and hands me a 32 ounce glass full of ice and Sweet Tea...which I am drinking right now...drank. Off for another. We have boiled peanuts too. Anybody want some?

I'm off to put on a suit, blech. It's church time. Thanks for all the love ya'll. I misses yous.

sez jeffrey saunders on 9:24 AM link me

Wednesday, May 29, 2002

I am Jeff and I wear sweatpants on airplanes. (best wishes, Jeff)


sez Ezra Fowler on 9:40 AM link me

Tuesday, May 28, 2002

My grandfather died this morning. I am leaving for Atlanta tomorrow morning. He lived a long and prosperous life and we are deeply saddened to see him go. I will try and post while I am in the ATL.

sez jeffrey saunders on 10:10 AM link me

Friday, May 24, 2002

Friends are friends
kin are kin
means to an end

To make ammends
misconceptions swim
friends are friends
kin are kin

Water to blood
Thin becomes thick
friends are kin
friends they stick

sez jeffrey saunders on 4:45 PM link me

Thursday, May 23, 2002

I have decided to take a trip to see Mat and Harper.

sez jeffrey saunders on 4:10 PM link me

Wednesday, May 22, 2002

In order to meet the requirements set forth by the
"Mat H dot net Memorial Coalition On Journalistic Integrity."
~Keeping viewpoints varied and Un-Biased since 1972~
here's Rampy's Perspectus

...MY location on my trusty Toshiba GPS_ (global positioning system) read dangerously close to the Repressive 1929 Page Spot...which as you know_ (or not)_ houses some of my best coalition members / pals.  I made my decision for a rideby with trepidation and not a small dose of good ol' fashioned fear.  My mobile weapons grade Seiko timepeice revealed a possibility for an intersection in the daily routines of aforementioned pals  (ie 'Jebezra "da sinister dotnet" Fouler', &or 'Jeffe "machine-gun Mariachi"  Saundrows esq.')  if that is their real names.  As I approached visibility range for said rideby I spotted the unmistakable lighting gesture of my 'morning on the way to the bus cigarette' by the equally unmistakable (long haired hippy) countenance of my Good Buddy.....  "Machine-Gun Mariachi", on his seventh cigarette of the morning.  Beakdip to the masses, he was obviously on his way to the bus stop (westbound on Page).  The dangerously low levels of nicotine in his body indicated that the subject was obviously still lethargic from sleep.  His distracted gaze, ensuring surprise, demanded that the rideby commence forthwith...
"Gbdood Blorning Bi-bDtBuddy"  I shreiked loudly  (in that famously retarted and shrill voice that we've all come to tolerate ;)
Marichi's visibility zone did not include my sortie until the vocal-cluster bombs had already wreaked Havoc on his anal cleft.  Semper Fi n'junk.  Hilarity and hijinks obviously ensued.  After the initial laughtershocks subsided and a good ol fashioned "Jesus you scared me Ramp." We exchanged pleasantries together with each other. As the Cala Parking lot grew closer so did the 'seemingly fortunate' 71L Muni Bus. Mariachi's appointed rendesvous. I selfishly remembered the Romanian Orphans that I had rescued from a Southbay drainage ditch the previous evening and thought that by this late hour they might be waking up my hostile neighbors with their cries of neglect and starvation. Those doe-eyed jewels of a world in gripped in the style of disposable every-f'-thing, sure are cute when they are malnourished. But i had promised both myself and the rough and touble leader of the Eastern-Bloc infants that I would return with
-a quart of 'Vanilla Enriched' SoyDream
-a bushel of pepperige farm Goldfishes
-a liter of Kamatchka Vodka
-a case of Fresca
-and some Sweet-Tarts (Dr Spock says "keeps the rickets away")
I know it was selfish, but since I didn't have a lock for my bicycle I asked Machinegun Marichi if he would kindly watch my vehicle while I went into Cala for the rations (for the Orphans). He Obviously was already destined for the rapidly approaching passenger bus. His reply was lost in the cross breeze between my welling tears and dashed hope (for the Orphans). The actual reply will have to be transcoded once the "FAA black box" is recovered from the wreckage. What happened in the next few Nano-seconds may always be hazy, and will surely be convoluted by _counter-espionage hoaxes_ and _mislead theories of conspiracy_.

_Jeffe busted his ass
his own account has suspicious blank spots and badly bruised cover ups. I totally lost him on my_ tear-soaked radar screen as I was shuffling away burdened only by the physical needs of some really cute _abandoned toddlers_. Their needs would soon fade like yesterdays jury summons as the _almost broke the skin_ bloody palmed_freestanding parking curb catalized_suck it up or get that gravel out of your teeth_debreifing unfolded.

Did you see that said Jeffe
as evidence mounted that he did not indeed catch the_ more important than the needs of those less fortunate than_ He
I said, did you fall? Knowing full-well from radar analysis print outs and pro-cess of elimination that my Buddy Jeffe had indeed busted his ass in full visual contact of more than one amused commuter (some of them female). We've been unable to send you the footage shot by ubiquitous security cameras and snooping French tourists because our satelite has been busted for a month and will be crashing into a densely populated civilian neighboorhood in Argentina...oh any day now. Jeffe's "Mad Marichi" Supporters seem to be throwing some kind of tailgate party long after his departure from the scene.
The scene here now is tense but relieved in that nothing seemed to be irrepairably dammaged save the Bosses' already brittle pride.
God bless you Jeffe. We're all glad your OK.
Jebezra was not available for comment.
Smiles all around.
__________________________________Beverage Party AP wire............."the Truth, jus' hella distorted."

my thanks to the Blessed Beak himself for allowing The Deputy's "alternative press."
tabula rossa

sez jeffrey saunders on 3:48 PM link me

Good Morning Buddy!
Jesus!...What up Ramp? What's up?
I'm just headed to the park for a bike ride before work, How are you?

"Wow, this day has started good. Sunshine, my friend drops by, the girls are looking beautiful as ever." "We turn the corner."

What did you do last night?
Well Ez and I went to the Honans, then tried to go play but Matt drums was there so we just went home and chilled.
Hey can you watch my bike for a sec while I get a juice at Cala?
Sorry man, that's my bus...gotta run.
See you at noon buddy!

"I begin to run and wave to the busdriver that I want on just as the bus rounds the corner then, SLAM! Faceplant. Cigarette out and broken, palms scraped purple, pride deflated, laughter fills the inside of the bus as it pulls away spitting black exhaust in my face. The bus laughed too. Those damn cement parking slabs jump up at you...they move I swear."

Did you miss the bus?
Yeah, you didn't see?
See what?

sez jeffrey saunders on 11:07 AM link me

Tuesday, May 21, 2002

My dad always tells me that if I put my mind to something and really enjoy doing it, I will do it better than none. The older I get the more I tend to agree with him. My dad is smart, and perceptive.

sez jeffrey saunders on 9:44 AM link me

Monday, May 20, 2002

Sex is a weapon...especially when you don't have any.

sez Ezra Fowler on 3:53 PM link me

Friday, May 17, 2002

If 9:30 were 5:30
I'd be home, startin' early.

sez jeffrey saunders on 9:27 AM link me

Thursday, May 16, 2002

Wait a minute.
You mean Paul McCartney was in a band BEFORE Wings?

sez jeffrey saunders on 2:34 PM link me

Thursday is better than Wednesday, but not as good as Friday.

sez jeffrey saunders on 1:45 PM link me

Wednesday, May 15, 2002

Why does a tiny chocolate store have a security guard?

sez jeffrey saunders on 9:47 AM link me

Tuesday, May 14, 2002

Would you rather be a case of Tab or a case of Fresca?

sez jeffrey saunders on 9:25 AM link me

Monday, May 13, 2002

Braves kick your ass. Kick it...your...ass...uh-huh.

sez jeffrey saunders on 12:29 PM link me

Friday, May 10, 2002

Playing music makes me happy
The songs we play are snappy
Our style is kind of scrappy
Your face to me looks crappy.

sez jeffrey saunders on 9:54 AM link me

Thursday, May 09, 2002

Someone please send me some positive Karma. Please. I went to play music last night and I walked out to my car and some ...person had knocked off my drivers side mirror. At least they were nice enough to leave the mirror on my roof.

I am a good person, why does this keep happening, and will it ever end? Jesus.

sez jeffrey saunders on 9:23 AM link me

Wednesday, May 08, 2002

I like dolphins because they smile back at you.

sez jeffrey saunders on 9:44 AM link me

Tuesday, May 07, 2002

The Banter in Spanish....Beaky is out today.

sez Ezra Fowler on 11:04 AM link me

Monday, May 06, 2002

...and rising.

sez jeffrey saunders on 1:48 PM link me

It really sucks to have the cackling, singing lady, in a good mood so her voice was even louder and more shrill, on my bus on a Monday morning. People actually clapped for her after she sang a "Happy New Year Song."

Happy Monday to you lady.

sez jeffrey saunders on 9:22 AM link me

Friday, May 03, 2002

I was up till 6am
doing Javascript rollovers.

sez jeffrey saunders on 2:57 PM link me

I am lucky
I am protected
Looked after



I love me.

sez jeffrey saunders on 2:01 PM link me

Thursday, May 02, 2002

Thievery will be repaid tenfold.

sez jeffrey saunders on 9:51 AM link me

Wednesday, May 01, 2002

It is truly amazing how an oven can change your life.

At 1929 we have not had a working oven since I moved in over two years ago. It is one of those things where you chameleonize and learn to adapt to a situation after all other alternatives have been exhausted. We pay almost nothing for rent and we have cajoled, canonized, castigated, subjugated, infuriated, and exasperated our landlord and his unresponsive nature, forced us to live our fate.
We ate out every meal. We lived high on the hog, which eventually transformed us to penniless, fat hogs. Ploy II, Escape from New York, Zona Rosa, Citrus Club, Siam Lotus, we were number one on the take-out circuit. We ate anything cooked for us. We didn't cook. Why should we? All we had was a burner and an oven that just opened it's mouth but never said anything. We were lost at first, but we learned to live without french bread pizzas, or fried chicken, or frozen pizzas, or frozen burritos, or anything worth cooking really. The microwave became our stove, and dammit we liked it that way! we didn't, we hated it. But no one told the microwave that. But we cussed it behind it's back.
I walked into my house yesterday and noticed someone did a half ass job of cleaning the kitchen. I avoided the pieces of lint and general muck on the floor and plopped down on the couch for my smoke. I had several puffs and walked to the john and lo and behold there was a brand spanking new cooking appliance where the old clunker used to hibernate. It is pure white with a clock that sceams digital green numbers that keep actual time and there's a light inside so you can see the comestibles being heated for our communal consumption. I feel as if I have left my castawayed island and am now rehabilitating, learning to talk and use a fork and speak again. Oh oven, you have replaced in my life what used to be a deep void of take-out, complacency and microwaveables. Please don't leave me again. I just can't stand the rain...I mean pain.

sez jeffrey saunders on 10:42 AM link me




Your Host: