Banter? I just met her...
Let's get drunk.
My dad has a way of calming me down when I have completely lost my shizz.
He is my best friend.
Anybody want to buy a car?
Did I mention I love Kim Gordon.
Now, how do we get rid of Thurston Moore? We should keep him around because he plays a mean guitar.
I saw them last night. If you get a chance to see Sonic Youth, you would be a fool not to go. I was hypnotized, mesmerized, and highly entertained. Best show I have seen in years.
Kim Gordon wants to marry me.
I love her.
Does Denny's have a French slam in France...or do they just call it "slam.?"
I went to a cynics convention this weekend but no one showed up.
I wonder why...sigh.
I am tired.
It's rare to have friends that you consider immediate family. I'm not talking, "Yea, they are family, part of the crew." I'm talking about people who know you inside and out, bad and good, people who are genuinely interested and come alive when things, good or bad, happen in your life, they see it as happening to them. It is not something that can just appear in a day. It has to be worked on and nurtured and loved and villified and coddled and scorned and built. But it is built with love as the only plan. I am so lucky to have Mat and Harper in my life and I try not to think of their epic journey to Thailand in a couple of weeks. What has seemed a dream for so long has become a reality. They are my brother and sister. I love them more than anything. Through all the crests and valleys of my life they have been watching over me. When all is said and done, they do not judge me. They love me for who I am, not who I should be.
Although they are only going on Sabbatical, I will miss them more than I can write in words.
I love you Mat and Harper. Thanks...just thanks.
Would you rather look into the Eye of Fatima or the Eye of a Zombie?
Let's do 'dis.
Here is why I don't like Henry Rollins:
"Henry was the guy who came into this cushy situation that had already been fully established. He still tries to write himself into the harder times, but by the time Henry was in the band, all riots and the police were for the most part in the past. He is desperate to claim this kind of past...But it's all phony and I don't want to dignify it. I would rather be rid of him."
--Greg Ginn speaking of Black Flag during the Rollins years.
interview with David Grad of Punk Planet 1997
I find it funny when a man is used as an "expert" on things that are exclusively woman...and vice versa.
"Here is our expert on menopause, Dr. John Flabarubunkster." or
"Men are ready to be sexy and wear these new jeans."-Judy Vascranamueller, Director of Bullshit at Levis.
These are not quantified experts. They are salespeople.
If I were you and you were me...we would be different.
One Man's Trash is Another Man's Treasure
I get on the bus and have the whole back row to myself. Wow. That never happens. I get situated in my window seats and begin to enjoy my whiplashing of a bus ride, good thing I brought my neck brace. So I am sit there with my neck brace and protruding outlook when I see in the empty seats next to me are a pile of compact discs. I stare at them. Do I look through them? I see them as cash. The bus will let me off right in front of Amoeba records, lunch money. I don't look through them, I just stare at them some more. A teenage kid gets on the bus and heads straight for the back. I could hear the drum and bass banging from his headphones. He has no fear. He sits down and sifts through the cd's. Damn. He gets first pick. He leaves two stops later and sees nothing worthy. Since the waters were tested, it's my turn. I begin to rummage. Widespread Panic bootlegs, electronica compilations, house beats, nothing of interest to me. Then I come across the Touched By A Janitor ep still in it's plastic wrap. I took it home hoping the music would be as good as the band name, and to my surprise, it is incredibly good...for the price I paid. Instrumental, doubleought prog-rock. Very intersting, I concluded I scored in a big way.
This little story seems very important to me. I am not sure why. I think that if someone like me can find quality music left sitting on a bus then HAMoTAM has a chance to be heard.
I really want to send this jarble of words to the band but they don't have a website. Either way, Touched By a Janitor is a good band. They are what is right about San Francisco and the whole scene we are a part of. Best of luck and pick up HAMoTAM's cd when you see it on the bus ok?
Rapidly growing, constantly dying
budding eternal, pollenation flying
away from here with the days dawn
swimming upstream dying to spawn
Life is death from dirth to earth
live to die so ends our search.
She heard a loud bang.
"What the fuck was that?"
"Arghhh...Why are you so fidgetty? Go back to sleep."
"There it is again. Get the hell out of here!
Either I'm going crazy or somebody's gunning for me."
"Fine, FUCK OFF! Don't call me again either, cause I won't come running."
"You aren't gone yet? We'll hook up next week."
She watched her storm out, sweating from paranoia...or was it. She peeked through the open slit of the dingy motel blinds, only to see slivers of reality. Part of a hub cap, her liasons' exasperated heel, an eyeball suddenly violated her view. She shrieked.
"There's no one here, maybe he didn't see me." She told herself. Her delusions enveloped her sanity. The pacing she believed was outside was actually under her feet. It wouldn't stop. Her Tell-tale feet. Tap-tap-tap-tap. She hid under her bed to discover her lunacy.
He bent down to clean under the bed, two empty eyes stared back at him. She was dead. He had to clean the toilet.
My room is clean but my mind is not.
Why would you follow the yellow brick road? Like anyone can profit from making a road out of yellow bricks. Stupid munchkins.
Froyo or hoho's?
You wouldn't understand.
I'll be there.
I had such a huge crush on Walonna from "Good Times."