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Do Do Wap is Strong in Here

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

From 8-3 

lessee... what did i do yestidee... i set out for a place called the "red and black cafe" about ten blocks south (i think) of here. i saw a picture on the photo sight of a neon sign above the door that said "i love my brain" and i had to check it out. it's a tiny corner cafe that serves food, libations, sundry coffee things and has occasional live performances. i had some broccoli noodle bake thing, glanced around for a while and took off for nearby clinton street, which has a wide open intersection with a very old theater on one corner and shops radiating out for about a block in each direction. at this intersection, there is also "green noise records" - a little place that sells mostly punk and old garage stuff.

i poked around in there for a while and then decided to head back north, past the house to the kearns neighborhood. the broccoli bake stuff wasn't very filling, so on the way i stopped at the lucky labrador for a sammy and some soup. quite stirring. i took a bus up belmont for about 15 blocks to shorten the walk a little, and crossed over from there to burnside, where the laurelhurst theater anchors the neighborhood. there was another cool strip of shops and bars along 28th starting at burnside, including a junk shop called "smut" which was blasting "now i wanna be your dog" when i passed. i hung around the area for a little while snapping pictures and having a sody, and then headed back toward belmont. on the way, i sat for a spell in laurelhurst park, which is apparently a whole hell of a lot bigger than the little corner sliver i came through. i got up and walked to belmont, hitting it right where the avalon theater sits, and whent in for a while to play old school games i had completely forgotten about for about 15cents a pop.

after i got good and bug eyed, i hopped on a bus back to 15th, the street daniel and ilona live on, got home and waited for daniel to get off work. when he got back, we ate some tasty ass lasagne and took off for the kennedy school, an old elementary school that has been turned into a hotel, restaurant and second run theater. the theater is in the old auditorium, and the seats are all plush chairs and sofas. the detention room was turned into a bar, and the teacher's lounge is now some kind of relaxation pool or something. the halls are lined with old pictures that are probably from yearbooks, and there's a courtyard in the middle which is the main restaurant space. ridiculuosly awesome, i say. after the movie, we came home, daniel and ilona went sleepy-bye, and i stayed up for a bit to eat cold lasagne with apple juice and jelly beans and watch the movie D.A.R.Y.L.


Thursday, August 25, 2005

From 8-1 

i'm sitting on the campus of portland state university. i wanted to check out this southwest park promenade thing one of the guidebooks mentioned. i saw a big old theater that apparently has six or so smaller theaters inside, and walked by the portland art museum, but they were closed. it costs ten damn dollars to get in, anyway. other than that, i saw a huge deer statue in the middle of the street and a bunch of clusters of street kids hanging around the park strip. the strip runs about ten blocks and ends here at the university.

yesterday was a lazy day hanging around the house, but i feel like that's part of experiencing portland the right way anyhow, so i didn't feel like i was missing anything. we had a barbeque on daniel and ilona's back balcony that no one showed up for, save for one co-worker of daniel's. we had grilled chicken with a tasty ass lime marinade that ilona put together, and corn on the cob grilled inside the husk with some olive and herb butter concoction that was so damn tasty i ate it like dip a couple times. we watched the sun set from the back porch and then came in and fell asleep during a viewing of temple of doom. daniel and ilona woke up and moved to thier bedroom, and i took off down hawthorne and walked twenty blocks up to the bagdad.

on the way up, two guys stopped me, and the one with the flavor saver said "einstein or dr. seuss?" of course i said dr. seuss, and flavor saver's friend protested and said the other guy was fixing the results and distorting the question. the real question was "who said 'there is no bigger than big or smaller than small'?" one guy thinks einstein, and the other thinks dr. seuss. i was instructed to look it up, but i haven't yet.

at the bagdad, i had a local brew called 'black rabbit porter'. it was very dark, very smooth, and damn tasty when combined with my order of art dip and chips. i didn't stay too long, just had the pint and chips and watched people walk and bike by, then fiddled around in a hollywood video while i waited for a bus to arrive. i'm going to check out more of the campus now, and then go to a movie and dinner later tonight.

later: wandered through downtown, stopped to rest at the southern end of tom mccall park - a long strip that was going to be a freeway, but plans were dropped and it became a park along the willamette. walked back over the hawthorne bridge and wandered through the neighborhood on the way back to the house. came across a place called the 'lucky labrador', a cool converted warehouse with a big vaulted roof and old cinderblock walls and a big patio. of course they have their own brews, so i tried a porter, which was pretty good but not quite as good as the black rabbit, and finished the walk back to the house. daniel got back from work and we went out to another cheap theater/restaurant owned by the same brothers who seem to own half the town, the mcmenamins. this one is called the mission and is an old converted swedish evangelical church. we had some dinner and watched the mediocre 'bewitched'. afterward, we drove around for a while through the north neighborhoods, stopped at a grocery store with jelly bean dispensers and soft chairs by the magazine rack, came home and daniel and ilona made an assload of lasagne and went to bed. i stayed up looking at a wbsite that has a bunch of photos of portland organized by neighborhood, so i have a whole list of places to check out now.


Sunday, August 21, 2005

From 7-30 

took a day trip to astoria, oregon, a town about 90 miles northwest of portland where goonies was filmed. we stopped off for a little while in a town south of there called seaside. pretty much a tourist trap kind of place that has a noisy crowded junk shop area like a minniature version of pier 39 in san fran. we waded in the ocean for a while, though, so it was worth it.

after seaside, we drove into astoria and stopped at the visitors center for some maps. just about everyone who stops in there wants to know where the goonies stuff is, so they sell a little movie site booklet and map for us gomers. the first place we tried to go was mikey's house. it's up on a hill at the end of a private driveway with a sign at the mouth of the driveway that says NO CARS in fat tip marker. those people probably get 70 visitors a day coming up to the house to do the truffle shuffle. we felt a little squeamish about going up there, so we drove over to the jailhouse and the "flavel house" next. the flavel house, which was a museum in goonies, is a big old victorian mansion that holds tours detailing the life of one of the founders of the town, and the jailhouse, the one the fratelli's busted outta, is across the street.

i think that sort of exhausted the movie sights we could find, so we went to the "astoria column", a tower on top of a big bluff on the edge of town. from the bluff, we could see the mouth of the columbia river, which lets out into a huge bay, a gigantic bridge connecting astoria to washington, distant bluffs and farmland stretching out at the base of the bluffs toward a swampy river valley, a bunch of barges moored out in the river, and the whole town of astoria. daniel and i also climbed the spiral staircase in the column 160-some steps to an observation deck at the top. we were sweaty sunsabitches after that. the view was ridiculous from up there. the planet looks pretty overwhelmingly beautiful in the little patches where people haven't fucked it up yet.

after we wound our way down the bluff, we took a different route home along the columbia river, making a round trip loop. i was shown another interesting neighborhood in the northwest corner of portland, kind of like uptown, only with a quieter residential atmosphere and not totally ruined with designer whitebread donkey shit. we were going to go see a movie at an old elementary school that's been converted to a theater and hotel, but it wa packed, so we got some ice cream and came home to sleep instead.


Friday, August 19, 2005

From 7-29 

went into downtown with relay to eat at the "roach coaches" - a block long line-up of carts and trailers that sell various types of food. i had a fat lump of some chicken vindaloo. after all that curry, i did'n't feel much like strolling, so we went back to the house.

on the way, we walked along the bank of the willamette, which is where one of several warehouse districts is located. among the crumbly buildings, railroad tracks and pissy smell is a 4 storey building filled with factory overstock and fire damage type stuff including those square jesus pictures with a spinning neon spiral behind them.

once home, we both kind of lolled around all afternoon - sat out on the porch for a while and nodded off while watching the last star fighter. ilona came home and took a nap while relay and i went up to the lab to cut some new mouthbreather tracks. not too sure about the new material as of yet. we closed up shop, roused ilona, and headed off to the bagdad theater about 20 blocks up hawthorne to see hitch hikers guide to the galaxy.

the bagdad's pretty damn awesome. they sell pizza by the slice and a bunch of locally brewed beers that you can eat and drink in the theater on skinny little tables that run the length of the isles, and the movie ticket goes for three bucks. a fine time. beer, dogs, parks, bridges, bikes, and interesting neighborhoods. i like portland because the way it's set up encourages walking through, relaxing in, and exploring each unique little area that crops up between quiet residential spaces. profoundly stellar. time for bed.


Tuesday, August 16, 2005

From 7-28 

left around 10am and headed into downtown along hawthorne. the willamette river bisects portland, and most of the bridges over the river are wobbly old lift bridges. big iron towers stick up in the middle of some of them, and i could see the cables and gears that lift a section of the bridge up. had some halfway decent indian food upon crossing the bridge into downtown. food is alot cheaper here than it was in san francisco. after the food, i sort of picked whichever direction looked most interesting, and when i saw on my little map that i was getting closer to powell's books, i headed that way.

powell's is - i think - the biggest book store in the country. it's four storeys tall and takes up the entire block. they give you a map at the front counter. the rooms are color coded, and the sections of the rooms are broken down into categories as specific as 'aviation-civil' and 'feng shui'. feng fucking shui gets a section all to itself. i could've engraved your name in glass with my nipples. it was too much to handle, i had to leave.

i headed back toward the river by the same method i had used to come out, and i ended up at the amtrak depot. i saw its clock tower poking out from a few blocks away, and i had to go take a look. it's a pretty old brick building - looks like 80-100 years - and at first i mistook it for a hotel. i was sweaty and thirsty so i went into the restaurant/bar off to one side of the building and had a frosty beverage. the barkeep chatted me up, found out i was an auslander, and gave me a pretty interesting visitor's guide that has a section on every neighborhood. i packed up and headed back over the river via another wobbling lift bridge. the return trip ended up being a little further than i was expecting. it was effin hot today, i stunk myself up and contracted babboon ass rel good-like.

when i got back, i recouperated a while with relay, and then we headed down belmont street. belmont has its own little district, similar to the hawthorne district. we went into the avalon theater, which is a combination cheap second run theater and nickel arcade. you pay 2.50 to get in, trade cash in for a sammich bag full of nickels, and go play video games for ten or fifteen cents apiece. they had old school games, ski ball, and a whole bunch of games from japan, i mean machines that still had the price to play listed in yen. there was some game called "guitar freaks" or something like that, where the controls are on a little half size guitar, and some flying bicycle game that was controlled by pedaling an actual little bike. nutty.

after the video games, ilona chrislon picked us up and we went to alberta avenue for "last thursday". every last thursday of the month, alberta avenue has about twenty blocks of art galleries and music and food and mini parades out on the sidewalk. we saw a bunch of dudes roll by on a motorized picnic table. it's like the uptown art fair, except every month and not asinine. we didn't stay too long, though, on account of the babboon ass shredding my bathing suit area into ground chuck. we took the scenic route home and watched the movie dodgeball, which brought me back to the glory of yesteryear.


From 7-27 

the sun bounced off the wing of the plane and hit me in the forehead for the whole trip. we were only in the air for 30-45 minutes. some queasy turbulence close to landing was irksome. met up with daniel and ilona at the airport, drove to the hollywood neighborhood and bought some bird food and a burrito. came back to their place for the grand tour, a brief appreciation of the back balcony, and then a long walk up and down hawthorne street, the main drag of the hawthorne neighborhood. lotsa small restaurants, couple few theaters, antique shops, a hostal, what not and what have you. it's late, it's hot, time to pass out.


I'm. Is. A. Wo. Bot. 

draws is playin shoot em ups on the television, and i'm just sitting here sweating, so i figured i might as well transcribe some of the portland journal. i think parts of it might be a little dry, but i tried to spice it up a little every now and then. i've been taking the last bus of the night home alot lately. my super keen friend alana made me a cake for my birthday shaped like the letter "p" for pete with malted milkballs on top. i ripped the stick part offa the p and ate it whole while trying to balance the cake pan with one hand on my walk to the bus stop. the thing was unwieldy, and i hope this is ok with alana charles, but i grabbed a plastic knife from a greek restaurant and chopped off pieces of the cake for anyone on the street who wanted one. there was a big crowd getting out of an event at the intermedia arts building and that's where i got rid of most of it. it was damn delicious and really cool, but this way, i was able to share some and stow the pan in my bag. another late night bus trip happened after seeing a friggin wonderful band called gogol bordello. i think they're mostly ukrainian, but they live in new york. they play alot of eastern european style music with some noise and dub tossed in there, and at the show, every few songs two women would bound on stage in odd dancer/football pants costumes and bang on cymbals, a giant marching band bass drum, or scrape on some beat up washboards and jump around. i thought they were pretty dang beautiful, and i've been listening to their album all week. yeh, so bloggedy bloggedy bleff and so forth. now, in a new post, i will lay down some of the travel journal.


Wednesday, August 10, 2005

Panda Sex Makes Panda Babies 

first, i will take a stab at reconstructing some of the salient happenings in oakland/san francisco/berkely using the photo album i toiled over as a guide, and then i'll transcribe my groggy notebook entries one or two a day from potland. i'm putting all my energy into finding a place to live and a job now that i'm back, so my brain is floating somewhere out in the intersection of 14th and hennepin right now.

anyhow... let's see... what did i do in the bay area? well, i roomed with the lovely dom and m'me bammer blue in a comfortable, mostly quiet area of north oakland just off an interesting main drag called piedmont ave. piedmont had a bunch of cool restaurants and a hoity toity grocery store. i visited about 15 places along that street, and got fish taco platters at one place 3 times.

they lived not too far away from a salt water lake called lake merritt that i walked around one day while dom was making some hipsters their omlettes at mama's royal cafe a few blocks away from the apartment. lake merritt has a run down mini amusement park next to it called childrens fairyland, which i found plenty creepy. i sat and read a local city pages type paper on the steps of the oakland crematorium, the three of us went to a massive old vaudvilian theater called the grand lake theater and saw charlie and the chocolate factory, and i climbed to the top of a terraced cemetary on the side of a steep hill in oakland that had an amazing view of san fran, oakland and the bay.

the best part of being on the east bay wa heading out to berkely. if i lived there, i think i would spend all my free time sitting in a cafe across from the campus or find a shady spot somewhere on the campus proper and just watch people and read all day. the main street that runs into the campus is telegraph avenue. telegraph had alot of hairy street vendors on it and a bunch of cool record and book stores. dom and i got some giant crepes at a place called crepes a go go, and found a cool block of shops on the north end of the campus. tzuen, a friend and old roommate of dom's lives in berkely, and we wandered around with her for a while.

in san francisco, i walked to the top of nob hill downtown, which was a bastard son of a bitch to climb, but i was trying to kill time while i waited for a really tasty thai place to open and gimme a big ass bowl of their curry noodle soup. that was the day i also spent about four hours in golden gate park, out on the end of haight street, wandering through the japanese tea garden, a few small lakes, and getting lost as hell a few times. i popped out at the ocean and sat there listening to it for a while before taking a bus back to the haight and eating some delicious pizza. the haight is where amoeba records, supposedly the best record store in the country, is located. it's huge. the place used to be a bowling alley. effing huge.

i walked through china town and realized too late that i was a big mark because of the camera hanging around my neck, and got harangued into eating at a place called, imaginitively enough, the chinatown restaurant. the place wasn't bad, but i kept my camera in my pocket after that. chinatown runs into the north beach neighborhood, an italian area where city lights books is located. city lights was started by the poet lawrence ferlinghetti, who was my introduction to beat culture, so for me it was like a shovel to the face to be standing there. there's a poetry room upstairs, and a cool basement area with a door that has the words "i am the door" painted on it. north beach runs into the embarcadero area and the wharf. there was a big annoying tourist part called pier 39 which we avoided, and a fairly empty pier from which we watched a sea lion bark and a dense lump of fog move over alcatraz. i spent a day sitting in an epty club where dom used to work the door watching another old roommate put together a booth, and visited dom's old crib in a run down area in either the mission or soma district or maybe it was neither, i'm not sure.

what else... didn't see the golden gate bridge up close, maybe next time. i also wanted to check out the asian art museum, but it was ten bucks to get in, and i went a little spastic with cash on the chinatown/north beach/embarcadero day, so another time for that one too, i guess. i think that about covers what i can piece together. i walked all day every day for the whole trip, and only got babboon ass once. my face peeled off in oakland, though. on my last day, i had a farewell meal at mama's, got on the bart to the airport, and went to portland, the details of which i can transcribe as soon as the muscles in my hands work again.


Sunday, July 31, 2005

Please Do Not Bend 

i can't let an entire month go buy with nothing posted, now can i? this, however, will end up being kind of a mock post to save me from that shame. i spent a week and a half in san francisco with dom and blue, and now i'm in the middle of my week and a half with daniel and ilona in portland. i'll have to give the abridged account of san fran, oakland and berkely, but i managed to remember to write little journal entries about the days in portland. later for that, though, because it's time for a barbecue on the back balcony.


Tuesday, June 28, 2005

A Poodle Skirt for Delilah 

don't call it a comeback, i been here for years...

it's like this, yawl - see i had went to the store, right, to pick up a jar of marshmallow cream and eat the entire thing with a plastic spoon, when this person, a little dutch looking person, with the liederhosen and clogs and what have you - what i would have assumed was a child except for the stubble - stepped in front of me and said "ay, you ever seen a wood sprite? like a fuckin real one? check this out, i got a four inch tall wood sprite frozen inside a mason jar back at my house, but you gotta come now, elsewise i'm leavin town, and i'm takin tinkerbell with me" he already had me by my pants pocket before he finished his little story, and while he was plenty creepy, he seemed harmless and even a little sad. i needed to cut down on the marshmallow cream, anyway, to get under the weight limit for hang gliding.

so the dutch midget pulled me by the crotch for about three blocks until we were standing in the dingy shadow of an abandoned church. he flapped a rubbery limb in the direction of a tarp covering the splintered door to the cellar, grunted and whined and dragged me inside. once we were past the entrance, all i could make out was the silver curve of a heating duct running a few inches below the ceiling and curving off somewhere upstairs, and the shadows of an angular mound of furniture stacked against the far wall. i could hear the dwarf shuffling around in an agitated circle behind me, kicking over metal sounding objects and swearing quietly. then, after a brief silence, i heard a long, high-pitched squeal and, concurrent with the moment of blackout, a wet slap like a cue ball thrown into a bucket of wheat paste.

i awoke nude and reeking of fish in the center of a crudely etched chalk circle on a landing close to the top of the belfry. my fingers were covered in something like tar, black and sticky. i propped myself against the wall of the stairwell, taking in deep, dusty gulps of air, and slowly regained a tenuous focus. i saw that my pants were draped over a railing just out of reach, and that something was pinned to them. wobbling closer, i swiped the object off my pants and stared at it for awhile until i could discern the shape of a goblet, fashioned out of notebook paper. upon unravelling the goblet, i could read the phrase "don't stop believin'" written in droopy cursive with a charcoal pencil. the i's were topped with little smiley faces. after slumping over and having a good long healthy weeping session, i yanked my pants on, and shirtless, man-tatters jouncing furiously, jogged without ceasing until i reached my back porch. shame has prevented me from speaking of the ordeal for these last few weeks, but now, in its wake, i flounder in abject apathy and no longer care if the world knows a dutch midget buggered me... with a fish... in an abandoned church.

so thats where i've been, sally jesse, and if there's one thing i've learned from this - well maybe not learned so much as qualified through experience - it's never trust a fucking midget.



Tuesday, May 03, 2005

Hirsute Brutes 

lordamighty, there actually is a goddamn beard wars. screw finals week, i gotta train and stock up on beeswax.


Thursday, April 28, 2005

Paper Plate, Ankle Weight, Pasty Pate, Satiate 

it's me and about thirty hyper women who interact with four year olds all day long. we're playing finals review jeopardy and baking 7 dozen chocalate chip cookies. i burnt the shit out of about half of them and got kicked out of the kitchen area of our mock classroom. i feel like i broke up a tupperware party. snuck out the back and came down here where i have a clear line to the park should they decide to pelt me with the burnt up cookies. the mind recoils in horror, as the good doctor used to say.

Friday, April 22, 2005

Envase Exclusivo Para Refresco 

we were making pictures in the art corner today using those little multi-colored geometric stickers, and this was the conversation that showed me i picked the right place to be today:

kid: "i'm making a power flower!"
me: "what can you do with a power flower?"
kid: "monkey fight!"

then we counted houses in the neighborhood and noticed a disproportionately large ammount of brown stucco. after school, i walked home drinking an elongated bottle of mexican coke that cost almost twice as much as the larger bottle next to it in the cooler, but the mexican one is shaped funny and has mexican words stamped on it, so it's all relative. now i have to go downtown and get my ass handed to me in beard wars '05. i've got no chance against that guy from iron and wine. have you seen that man's majestic beard? i could but graze it as it perches there upon his face and never again know fear.


Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Yoga Booty Ballet 

i just want everyone to know that if you come over and see my bed, it's not what it looks like. that's chocolate from a grasshopper fudge mint cookie. i eat them about four at a time while i play some sonic the hedgehog, and i got to the water board the other night and dr. robotnik was pissing me off and maybe i spit some cookie crumbs onto the bed but i can't recall. in any event, my self regulating, unconcious functions are all in sterling working order, and as much as some sickly section of my being is alright with sitting around in pampers playing altered beast and golden axe while a dumptruck filled with fudge backs up to my bedroom window and slathers me in its flawlessness, i haven't quite slid to that depth yet. i can still manage to make my bears in the bear makin' room next to the kitchen.


Wednesday, April 13, 2005

time's sick attacks
a glut, an abscess in the mouth
what is stopped with sugars
pasted to my cheeks
your presence says for me


Friday, March 25, 2005

I Know A Dude, Name a Keegs 

  • hells yeeyuh
  • and the afformentioned paintings

  • |

    Wednesday, March 16, 2005

    Diese Bist eine Toten Blog 

    this, buster brown, is a blog gone flatter than a warm tub of root beer faygo. for some reason there is bacitracin and used band-aids smeared all over this desk. well, honestly, if anything worth writing about was happening lately, i'd use it to stuff up the cracks in this dealy, but mostly what i do lately is panic over getting assignments done. eeerrrr... i got some wierd square toed brown shoes that look a little like clogs... i finally got an assignment done with this years kindergarteners. i stole a warmup game from comedysportz. they stuck with it for about 5 minutes before they started crawling under things and running to the back of the room to turn the sink on just enough so that the water pressure would make the pipes groan and shake. i think they're going batty. they hardly get to go outside anymore, and it makes them want to anihilate their oppressor. i've really got to go get my whatnot together now and get this paper closer to done so's i can get gradjeeated and not have to worry about papers being due no more. look for things to pick up maybe in the next couplea months.


    Tuesday, February 22, 2005

    Take the Guess Work out of Hanging a Towel Rack 

    i'm stuck at a library out in the suburbials. i came all the way out here to vacuum a floor.

    i got my regulation size officially sanctioned canadian ninja hat from two real live free-range canadians. those canadians and their ninja activities. my ninja hat comes equipped with accomodations for a hard hat, so i'm pretty pumped to find some alone time at work when i can stuff a hard hat down my pants and sneak out the back door. i wish i was wearing my ninja hat right now. i accidentally got glitter on it, so now i'm kind of a "fabulous" canadian ninja, but sometimes that's just how we canadians run our shit. one of my fellow canadians wants to walk into a convenience store wearing our ninja hats, but i don't think that idea's so hot. i'd rather just sport it around the neighborhhod, or run around the house with the hat on and nothing else, kitchen utensils velcroed into the hard hat straps.

    my bus driver today had 9 1/2 fingers, it was riveting. it made me think of a cantankerous cashier at a super america i used to frequent who had ten fingers, and then a dangly little nub with a nail embedded in it. and that got me thinking 'hey, wouldn't it be great if those two guys had some way of getting together and sorting out eachother's nubs? like a hotline or something where they could set everything up, like who would do the slicing and the sewing, all the sundry details like that? they'd probably even form a lifelong bond, and have a little routine they put together for dinner parties, like the extra nub guy would rub his temples like he was in deep concentration, and the 9 1/2 guy would start waving his hand around and yelling "woah, man! i can't control it! somethin's got my finger in some kind of voodoo mind lock man!" and i think that's what it's really all about, deep underneath the noise and the rot and the tedium of life. some people are missin a little nub somewhere, and some people got little danglies, and we just gotta trade up.


    Thursday, February 17, 2005

    There are No Words 

  • holy effing jeezis

  • peetq@hotmail.com

    Tuesday, February 15, 2005

    Chu! Chu! Chu! 

    i ain't did shit in about a minute, that's why ain't shit been goin' on up here.

    i keep walking into the same stores and staring at the same crap i can't buy. i would be indulging some weird whims if money weren't an issue. i flipped through photography books by arbus and "weegee", looked at a howlin' wolf biography, a book about the places dillinger frequented in st. paul, a book about minnesota prisons around the turn of the 20th century, and a book about the legendary blues story of a pimp named stack lee, or sometimes stagger lee or stack-o-lee. but i don't got no money, so i just got irked is all. i licked my psychic wounds with a chocolate covered tongue, walked to the ding dang bus stop and sat on a cold ass bus bench until the bus came to hasten me toward home. no swass marks when the bench is cold, you know.

    anyway, if you havent plucked your eyeballs out with a melon baller yet on account a cause this particular entry is so putrid, part two of the post has been comissioned by a certain lady stuck out in michigan at some bass-ackwards school where you go straight to hell if you don't maintain a 3.5 gpa or something like that. a certain lady who will do karate on you and kick your testicles off, even if you're not a dude and don't got testicles. she understands that kids are always cooler than boring ass tired old pissed off grown folk, and she puts up with o-drawers, which is also commendable. we are both getting tired of school. we bridge the gap across time zones in solidarity strengthened by our mutual burnted outedness. lessee, what else... long hair? what'd i miss... anything? well, her name is jess and she will judo chop me in the junk if i don't mention her name, but i probably would have eventually anyway.


    Monday, January 31, 2005

    Tootie Tah 

    i was going to type up something last week about the floor smelling spicy, or the patterns made by the holes in my pants or something, but i had been up for about twenty hours and using this thing as a sleep deprivation experiment seemed like a shitty idea even from that state of wobbly mental faculties. however, that still left this piece of dog dump blog looking like a supperating aperture from whence a piece of dog dump might squidge.

    sometimes, for vast stretches of days, it just doesn't seem to me that i'm considering or processing much beyond my usual misanthropic flash, or immediate reflexive things like "now i put my pants on, next, i should put todays books in my bag." i think larger things i mull over are usually too close to see. sometimes that's good though, making ideals second nature when the ideals are translated to action. dunno. yeh. tired of second guessing myself all the time.

    "now i end the post and go to sociology, where we will talk about the day when big easter island headed robots with weed-whackers for mouths will eat everybody except for the luddites, who will tunnel under the city and begin the humping that will create the army that will overthrow the easter island headed weed-whacker robots."


    Wednesday, January 19, 2005

    Folksy Knockwurst 

    figure i better grease somethin' up and send it down the chute even if life feels like turd flambe right now. i'm in the computer lab listening to keyboards rattle all around me and steeling myself for a good three hours of textbook reading.

    here are some things i've been eating lately: strawberry pudding, s'mores, yams, celery, cheese sauce, spinach, and root beer barrels.

    i probably won't give this thing too much consideration over the next few months on account a cause i have essentially six classes right now and it's my last semester and i just want to squeeze through it and get it over with.

    did you know that sometimes (maybe even usually) all a kid needs to calm down and think clearer is a halfway decent backrub? i kinda wish we could've walked into big people school on the first day a year and a half ago and been greeted by someone holding a stack of degrees who said something like "try backrubs and speaking a little slower and quieter than usual. here's your degree." but here i am, poking through theorems and diagrams and spinning books around to try and decipher which way "figure 5b" is supposed to face and whatnot. speaking of which, it's time to get into "chapter two: didactic stories"...


    Thursday, January 06, 2005

    See the Streetlights as Fairgrounds 

    i should like a verdant archipelago for my friends and me. something in temperate climes, a short ferry ride away from a cheapo and a dessicated one screen cinema which should probably be owned and operated by danielona. there would be the weekly band meeting in the cave on the shaded side of the hill in the center of the largest island, where we would play instruments made of rodent bones and bark and write songs about how the island was the shit. also, fingerpainting on the beach, saturdays at noon, and a thriving bartering system based on keeg's and daniel's and ilona's paintings and the 4 track demos cut by the band. i'll walk around taking pictures of insects and sand and oars to make more of my body function/solitude picture books and try to get some rolaids or artichoke dip for them at the trading post. what else... probably an island to be used solely for dodgeball tournaments and/or kickball, and theres probably also got to be a statue or shrine or something like that. most of these island tribes had their creepy shrines, so howsabout... oh i dunno... something to keep the curious away like a big bronze nude willford brimley eating kittens right out in the middle of the bay somewhere. that should do it, i think.


    Friday, December 31, 2004

    Ceilin's Peelin' 

    took the last bus home from danielona's with a giant bag of used socks in my lap after playing some high stakes dice game called "fuk-o-lump" or something of the sort. tired now.

    i'm an ice princess, for the benefit of everyone who didn't already know. i went skating with carly "carls carlsbad cavern dr. quinn sehr" schoen last week. i did a triple lutz and then carls stole the limelight with a spin move that put a crater eight inches deep in the center of the rink. we finished off with our tribute to the gripping cinematic work of samuel fuller and recieved a 4.7 from the hot dog guy.

    it's been a shiny year what with the chilluns and the almost having a grasp on what the hell i'm doing and the like. looks like the only option for next year that won't get me stranded alone somewhere in the middle of the country is a move to portland, so alone it is i guess. portland, for gadsakes. everybody's moving to portland. they could at least move to astoria, oregon and strike up relationships with the people from that documentary "goonies".

    aaaaarright, this entry smells like a poopy butt and i need to sleep.


    Wednesday, December 22, 2004

    I Love Everything Except School 

    hokey doke, it's long past time to slap something up here. school's done, and i feel like the belle of the damn ball. got my winter break novel selection all lined up, py-jammies on, pizza in my lap... fully prepared to come nowhere near all the plans i had for the break. my boy danielona finally graduated, i think that warrants at least a mention. mahfukkas worked their arses all the way off all week long, and still managed to have a spread at the celebration capable of shredding my gut like a culinary chainsaw. i had some late night rock n' roll jam sessions with the sensual dan weaver of the weaver family players. we layed some tracks in the studio, totally off the cuff, you know, just played it how we felt it, man. we were at that place in our conciousness, you know, where time totally starts to bend like an origami swan, yeah? i guess we'll just keep ridin that celestial rock wave until we get tired of surfing with the alien, broham... going ice skating - or probably more accurately, ankle breaking - tomorrow afternoon at the converted depot. should be emasculating and frigid, which are coincidentally the first two qualities i look for in a perfect life mate. then it's just more food folks and fun through the end of the year for me. may all your blankies, metaphysical and otherwise, be enormous and floofy. may all your castle levels not be the one where you have to remember that bottom, middle, top pattern, and may your poots smell like fresh laundry forever hence.


    Thursday, December 16, 2004

    Loaves of the Blessed Dead 

    another ugly piledriver of a week for me, but as the great z-rock hawaii once said, "the pile driver's gonna make it all worthwhile". been feeling like a big festering lesion for a few weeks now, but i had some skabetti and chance meetings with pals on the street and colored some little orphan annie pictures with the chilluns, so i'm managing to doggy paddle along for now. one of the first things a kid said to me yesterday morning, before i talked to anyone, was "are you tired?" i caught a glimpse of my gummy red eyeballs a few minutes later and thought that if it werent for the swing pushin', the kids wouldn't even have let my transient drunkard lookin' ass in the room. this entry seems to sound an awful lot like most of the last month's worth of prattle. poo-poo wee-wah... yes, and so now, i must go catch a bus into the suburbials.


    Monday, December 13, 2004

    Ermine Furs Adorn Imperious 

    a riddle i was trying to figure out right before the alarm woke me up:

    a cow stands alone in the middle of a vast pasture. in your hand is a gold coin. you must extract milk from the cow by gently lifting the udder using only the coin. about the coin: is there something you don't know that you should?

    i'm not sure, but i bet the answer might make jesus come back. except he'll just stay for an ice cream social, and then take off in his space taxi.


    Tuesday, December 07, 2004

    A Shantyman's Life is a Wearisome One 

    school can go ahead and be over any damn time now. last thursdays history class was one of the most ridiculously boring things i've ever experienced. you should've seen the heads bobbing and lolling, struggling to stay afloat on the tedious quagmire of cryptic overhead-projected maps and droning lists of names and dates. i just stared at my lap and occasionally added to the list in my notebook of things i'd much rather be doing. that's kind of what i've been doing for most of the last few weeks; hanging on to the idea that if i can hold out for just a few more months, my days can be 100% mine and i won't have to worry about deadlines and discussion boards and all manner of nasty whatnot. yeh, well, i'm gonna go read a few pages in the lie-berry now.


    Monday, November 29, 2004

    Why'd I 'ave to go and Do a Schewpid Fing Loik Dat? 

    uuuuuhh gawd, i have no functioning concept of the facets involved in operating the way i'm used to operating right now. i was startled awake at about ten by a dying smoke alarm, and i swore for about a half hour that it was ten a.m. and couldn't understand why it was so dark outside. then i watched a documentary about "song poems". little ads on the back of tabloids or comics that say "send us the lyrics, and we'll make a song and send the recording to you". people have been sending in stuff for decades. they played a song called "chicken insurrection", and talked to a guy who tried to send in the most fucked up and offensive thing he could think of, and it still got recorded, a honkey tonk with the refrain "a blind man's penis is erect because he's blind". so now, startled, with belly churning, and "blind man's penis" melodiously floating through my head, i believe i shall shamble into the kitchen and stare at the moldy cracks in the ceiling until i figure out what the closer-to-normal me would be doing tonight, and then get going on that.


    Tuesday, November 23, 2004

    Zuckerman's Famous Pig 

    i have to say it actually felt palpably good to be alive walking that last half block back from the store. i've been waiting for the cold air to be just right, just enough to make the back of my hands a little numb and tingly. i was just a little more aware of my skin and concious of the idea that i was taking in air, and it felt justifiable and reassuring this time around, rather than that old sense of having to scramble for reasons to defend it. plus, i knew i had a giant, soft blanket and new music waiting at home.



    thats the sound of me not having to do a friggin history test anymore. took me five damn hours to write the essay part of the exam. now im going to crawl under my fluffy new comforter and sleep forever, or until the spiked boot of schule wedges back in the ol' arse sometime this weekend. yaaaaahhhhh... too tired to grunt out any more bull pocky right now.

    small fisted
    pork gristle
    prickly thistle
    train whistle
    dull epistle
    patriot missile

    motion sickness
    aiding and abetting
    badgering the witness
    chronic bed wetting


    Wednesday, November 17, 2004

    The Hippie and the Lunatic 

    since that last one was about as appetising as a cabbage sundae, i thought i'd harken back a little bit about an old roommate of mine, stinky ass ken. ken, you trey anastasio lookin' muthafucka, i wonder where you are right now. probably passed out with a mammoth cup of tapwater dumped drunkenly on your head, or putting your grimy fingers in some unsuspecting business major's hoagie. ken had black, fucked up hippie toes. he tried, but never quite managed, to mask the pot stench behind the rancid incense clouds eeking out of his room. on the weekends, if he made it home, he would wobble up to the house on his bike, dump it in the entryway, and then crawl up the stairs, usually stopping halfway up to chuckle and swear. when he made it all the way into the living room, he always had some story about toppling off his bike or falling asleep in someone's yard along the way. sometimes i'd see him struggling home at about 7 in the morning while i waited for the bus, a grim kind of resignation on his face. i think he was gone for about four days once, and no one seemed to know where he was, and then one night, out in the yard, we heard WHUMP! "ahe-he-he-heeeeee... shit!" and knew everything was a-o.k. ken was good people. at least he wasn't like our creepy housemate jeremy, who would sometimes leave a tv, radio, and alarm clock blaring while he "played" his bass in his corner of the moldy cellar. it sounded more like he was throwing things at it from across the room, and then suddenly "sanford and son" would pop out for ten seconds. he only left his room to come up to the kitchen and cook the same foul pasta-like thing every single day, the creepy bastard.

    DOM! anything of note as far as you can remember that i'm leaving out?


    Jesuit Track & Field 

    i've about had it with this swole up ass uvula i got dangling down the back of my throat like a damn fishing lure. what the hell is that thing for anyway? i think i should make a necklace or something out of it, give it a purpose.

    well, after tripping over all the tenderness and flopping around on the ground for a while, i kind of neglected to stand up straight when righting myself, and dragged my face along the ground for a few days. i might be swerving back into lock step now, so no need to mail me any xanax yet. still got this sonsabitchin half-ass cold, though. myerp, myerp, myerp, myerp... ooh, ah, a hummus belch. things are lookin' up.


    Friday, November 12, 2004

    Get Up a-Get Get, Get Down 

    ppppffffffffhhhhhhhttttttthhhhhhh... first the swing pushin goes horribly awry when the final big push sends a kid careening hip first into the damn post of the swingset, then i come home and the kitchen door is kicked in. someone broke through the bottom pannel of the door, crawled in, and apparently just grabbed jordan dale's bike and ran out. nothing else was touched. it doesn't even look like they set foot in any other part of the house. i called the cops, who showed up an hour and a half later and basically just said "yep. bike's gone" (i know there isn't a whole extra bunch they can do, though, and it's really not the frustrating part) and i called someone at the rental company who sounded like she was too preoccupied with picking the butter out from between her toes to hear anything i said. someone's supposedly coming out here sometime in the near future to hammer a piece of plywood over the hole or something. right now there's a pillowcase tacked to the door to keep the cold out. yeah, so the tenderness does a big faceplant today, i guess.


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