Super-Center Shenanigans

I'm mostly opposed to them, but I wanted to see how one-stop shopping worked. I don't think that I've ever done such a thing. Mission accomplished (wandering back and forth isn't very efficient, though), and I got everything on the list:

tomatoes;

wiper blades;

cat food;

olive oil; and

shotgun shells

It was overwhelming. I took half an hour to find the car.

The Possum Rocks

Wikipedia has a decent article here. Born with a broken arm?!? That's fucking hilarious, in a country music sort of way.

Janette and I used to drink and do the George Jones singalong. Stephanie hates it. Dude has some pipes.

The best thing about classic country is that the songs are a bearable length at >3 minutes. That, and massively chorused guitars (I think that it's a guitar). Hilarious.

Some Things Rock; Some Things Do Not Rock

Colorado rocks because it's pretty once you get past the fearful driving in the metro area. Fearful drivers do not rock.

Traction Control (or whatever the nifty acronym is) rocks. I spent the day delivering new sets of the mighty Norwegian ice chains to drivers. Dudes were breaking the ghetto Chinese chains, which do not rock. I had no problems.

My secretary rocks. She's the only girl that I've ever seen chain up a mighty geo just to get to work. Mexican truck drivers in ditches do not rock--Manuel totally screwed up today.

Coordinating the crises via cell phone rocks. This shit is why I made a good field supervisor once upon a time. Dealing with the stroke patient step father doesn't rock. He gets too confused and thinks way too slowly to get shit done. "Everything's under control. Go take a nap." I'm totally mean.

The Who with subwoofers rocks. Hearing Johnny Cash every time I tune in a country station does not rock.

Catcicles rock. It was eleven degrees when I pulled in. Both of 'em were screaming at me. Minus one for an overnight low does not rock.

Idyllic Slacking, Texas-Style (Dream)

I'm in the hill country. Caliche roads. Bluebonnets (spring must have sprung). The large Ebony tree at my grandparent's cabin. The [relatively] heavy air.

Count Me In On This One

Peace through Global Ecstasy

And Then, Everything Went Horribly Awry

Driver A broke a ring/pinion and then a compactor unit (two trucks down, waiting for parts);

Driver B got fired for drinking the Bourbon (whoohoo) on the job; and

I mashed a prairie dog (paralyzed with fear, truly--my turquoise tractor with doors is a wee bit frightening).

The highlight of the day was seeing a sidewalk rogue bicyclist in Boulder broadside a car at Broadway and Spruce. I got a good laugh. Blood was coming out of his nose. It was awesome.

Hippie Soap and the Eighth Amendment

Apparently, the hippie soap that I use has a web site. They support a program for successful re-introduction of inmates into society (the page is here). Sure, man, that sounds great, I'll hire 'em.

Unfortunately, I think that dude was on weed and didn't actually explain how this works. I have a better plan to clear out prisons and end recidivism. Now is the part of the post when I sound like either an idiot or a maniac.

Repeal the Eighth Amendment!

Cruel seems pretty vague as does unusual. When I'm running the show, there will be a different interpretation. Unfortunately, baby brother would be fucked.

Perhaps I'm cruel and unusual.

The Absolute Zero y mucho mas (longer than it should've been)

I ambled out of bed for some live music on Sunday. Michael Trenhaille really does some sweet, peculiar singing-songwriting. I dig it, and if I'm the only one that does, so be it. Michael is one of a handful of people that I'd love to play some tunes with, if only a couple of times. Blows my mind.

Actually, Tom "Navy SEAL" Murphy gets what Michael is doing, too. We hung out after the show over coffee and shot the shit about all sorts of crap. What other friend of mine is going to bring up Socrates in conversation?!? [was Tom a classics major? I almost was, but realized that I'd wind up teaching, and I'm a bad teacher, even if the girls that I used to work with thought that I was good. (I was actually just trying to sleep with them, sort of)] I fell into the Bill and Ted trap, though, and referred to dude appropriately. I hope that Tom knows that it's habit. Seriously, though, Tom's the only person that I regularly chat with that brings up Platonic Dialogs and shit.

Tom Murphy is the man, even if he's not a Navy SEAL. I love hanging out with that guy.

What I was attempting to recollect (too much weed in school) was the dude that hypothesized that there was an "evil jini" that was controlling everything. It's like the classical version of the matrix or something. Does anyone remember that lecture in psychology 101?

Tom let slip that the rumor is that I'll be recording in January. This is good news, since I figured that I had been replaced or something. If I don't hear back, I figure that I don't need to put out. However, nameless dude has a lot of stuff going on, and injury, and stuff. I wouldn't consider him one of my "flaky musician" friends (absolutely the opposite; someone that also strives for perfection). I'm still waiting for the planets to align for that other project in January. I hope that they decide against an upright bass, or that dude is flaky. Still, I'm hoping that the current "sad little bass player" does indeed become a Winnebago warrior and find himself. Being able to play with a band that's established is a good thing. No drummerless practices (I really fucking hate that).

Tonight, I almost had a fucking coronary when I thought that my primary turntable had eaten shit. Being a fabulous piece of 1970s technology, I shook it, and it now functions. I didn't have to mess around with the backup unit, which is awesome. Buddy Miles' Them Changes is the LP of choice. The cover of Down by the River is awesome. I so so love that lyric.

A Bit of The Ultra-Violence (Dream)

I'm on a killing spree in this one, apparently, carrying my old Sig Sauer P226 (shouldn't have sold that gun), full of Federal hydra-shoks and some corbon +P+ (incredibly expensive 9mm). I have a clever scheme that I use to shoot three sheriff's deputies. I shoot my father (who always deserves it). Jason Heller rolls his eyes at me and gets shot in the face (sorry, man).

Now I'm all adrenalized and get to go to work. Whoo hoo.

The Status of Jesus Christ

She is not feeling too peachy, it seems. Either sick from shots (the rabies shots made me sick), or from a busy day playing with the bulldog.

R.I.P. (commentary and repost)

I felt that this was coming (there was a vibe, and davey was mia). I feel lucky to have made friends with 'em. Such a major downer....you're an asshole if you never saw 'em (they were really that good). Good bands quit when they're ahead, but it's very sad when it happens. Anyhow, here's the repost:

Hey everyone. Well, it's time for the news that we hoped we would
never have to deliver. After 5 plus years of touring, recording, and
throwing our middle fingers at the powers that be, I Can Lick Any
Sonofabitch In The House is no more. Mike D has decided to focus on
his family and his solo work, and we of course won't continue without
our brother. We can't thank all of you who have supported us enough;
for taking care of us on the road, letting us sleep on your floors
and eat your food, sharing the stage with us, or just being the loyal
fans that you have been. It is our great hope that we were able to
bring to you even a fraction of the love and happiness that you
brought to our lives.

We will all move on to other things, and we hope that you will a part
of that as well. In addition to Mike's solo career, Jon and Flap will
continue with The Runaway Boys, and Dave with Spigot and all his
other projects. Jon will also continue to record, so if your band is
interested in recording please contact Jon through our Myspace page.

Our website will stay up indefinitely, and we will continue to sell
our records. We have some unreleased material that may still see the
light of day, so keep an eye out for that on iTunes or through In
Music We Trust.

We have a great van for sale, a 15 passenger 1997 Dodge Ram, great
condition, converted with a storage area and a bed, so it's of course
fantastic for a touring band. Please contact us through our Myspace
page for more information.

This Saturday, November 25th, some of us will be gathering at the
Laurelthirst at 9PM to hoist a few in salute to Sonofabitch, and we
would love it if any of you would join us to celebrate. We had a
great run, and we are sending it out with a bang.

You can stay in touch with Mike D and his solo career through his
Myspace page.

Now comes the most important part. In the years we have been
together, we have crossed paths with many fantastic bands, many of
which you can find on our links page. But we would like to take this
opportunity to mention four in particular. They are the very best
that this country has to offer, and if you are a fan of ours, we hope
you will fill the void we are leaving behind with these four
incredible bands. They are Two Cow Garage, Red Cloud West, Drag The
River, and Portland's own Hillstomp. They are the greatest of bands
and the best of friends. We will love you guys always.

With Love and Thanks,

Mole, Jon, Dave, and Flap

Everything Has Been Thought Of Already, And I don't Like It At All

With the recent news re: the Church of England, (and to inflame pro-life types) I decided that these children should be consumed for the betterment of society. "Utilized for research" sounds a little hoity-toity. Consumption is better (I'm an economist at heart), and implies eating dead babies.

Dude beat me by 277 years. ACK!! Something must be done about the Irish problem--some things never change.

More Cat Shots

"I've never seen a kitten attack a stainless steel wastebasket before."

That's what the vet said when Jesus Christ saw her reflection and came unglued. She is awesome. The wastebasket wasn't even fazed. I assured dude that hyper-aggression like that is normal behavior for Jesus Christ. She's a little bit psychotic, maybe.

Monday 2.0

It is preferable to work on holidays. We used to, ten years ago. Now, employees want time off to spend it with their families and crap.

Thanksgiving was yet another day to languish in bed, utterly stoned on valerian. It does seem to help with the sleeping.

A Brilliant Meld Of Folk And Low Fee Indie Rock?

Y'all are aware of the definition of Low Fee? Dumbass 1190 DJs provide me with wonderful fun with words (I still can't believe that dude carried on about "lowfee" for an entire break). Whatever, it's a fun new definition for The Godfather and myself.

I've been re-discovering a lot of Neutral Milk Hotel bootlegs lately. [insert kitten sliding off top of monitor--she enjoys watching me type, it seems (actually, I hypothesize that she digs the warm since I refuse to use heat anymore)] After reading that "book," I've decided that the earlier material is a lot more compelling (or fun). Every instrument with fuzz is awesome. Some of the greatest Denver recordings, ever. Although I've seen this video before, it really makes me angry to know that I turned down going to a show.



The video has sort of the RC chaos going on. Ross and I both broke teeth because of the x-treem spastic one. He had his fixed because it was bad. I still bear two red cloud rock breaks.

From the video, the funniest thing for me is Julian milling about the stage. He's an extremely gracious email penpal (saw amplification questions and fan adoration). The audience is hoppin', for sure. Their gear is weird, sort of. A Roadstar Bass (haven't seen one of those in ages--they don't build 'em like they used to)? A single-pickup Mustang (or it appears to be one)? Jeff is playing some cool Gibson (reminds me of the Reverend's)?

I'm an asshole for not proceeding to the cocaine blues tonight, I suppose. I spent 10 hours standing while doing the right-side-driving in Boulder in a 10-foot-wide truck. My dogs are howlin', and I'm not inclined to be social. Hopefully, I can get one of those orange-vinyl records post-hoc.

Weird Dream

I'm a professional dancer (hilarious);
I'm lost in San Diego (not as hilarious); and
I'm cutting off a horse's head with a steak knife (definitely not hilarious)

Unplugged (music and such)

This evening I found out that Jesus Christ (who's about to get renamed) digs my lame ass singing. The little cat rat likes to sit on my lap during bad acoustic guitar hootenanny time, and meow along with my bad singing (which is forbidden). This Czechoslovak guitar is a horrible thing, even if it's a glorious example of iron-curtain lutherie. It suits me well, since I've become a horrible guitarist. I should have suthers give it a once over. It could be supercool if it had some playability.

I played the acoustic bass for the first time since the Chris Adolph sessions (which I still need a copy of). Even with totally corroded strings, it sounds awesome. The 32" scale length means I can rip it up.

I so require a band.

I also finished the In The Aeroplane Over The Sea book, which I need to donate either to the Shaman or Murphy. I'm thinking that I should bribe Ross for those tapes with the book. They're really great, even without the final vocal overdubs, if my memory serves me semi-well.

The light bulbs have all burnt out.

Outstanding--Stolen from Murphy

You scored as Friedrich Nietzsche. Well you're an egotistical maniac, and you are so very iconoclastic that you probably are currently lost in a post-modern Jupiter, I mean jungle of self-definition. Don't let it get you down though, someday, through a willful onslaught of reinterpretation of dated forms and ideas, you will strike on something that passes as remotely new, and people WILL be into it on the basis of how hip it is alone. Also, the average espresso drinker looks up to you. Friedrich Nietzsche 100% Elvis Presley 83% Charles Manson 83% C.G. Jung 75% Hugh Hefner 67% Dante Alighieri 67% Sigmund Freud 50% Steven Morrissey 50% Stephen Hawking 50% Mother Teresa 50% Jesus Christ 50% Adolf Hitler 33% Miyamoto Musashi 25% O.J. Simpson 25% What Pseudo Historical Figure Best Suits You? created with QuizFarm.com

Movies, Misfits, and Much More (some guitar geek stuff)

Happy Birthday Jessica! One foot in the grave rocks. I can't believe that we've been friends this long, and actually keep in touch. An amazing feat for me, for sure. 25 is when I had the real nervous breakdown. I hope that you do not.

This movie addiction is totally getting silly. Four movies in the last three weeks has to be a record. For the record, The Prestige pulls a Memento and is utterly predictable. American Hardcore was good. Borat was decent. Fast Food Nation is pretty damn good--Andrew Fucking Warner tried to get me to read the book years ago.

I'm not even getting fatter. The scale further confirms that I need to shop for smaller jeans. This gangsta rap look just ain't working, anymore.

Misfits is my soundtrack for the evening. "Who Killed Marilyn?" Please, dogg, we all know that it was the Kennedys--stuffing someone's rectum full of barbituates is indeed clever. When I commit suicide, that's how I'll do it.

I think that my uncle has joined forces with the rest of the family, and is now on my case to get a girl, preferably a blonde (he has lost his mind). I never would've thought that he'd give in. I told him that it'll only end in pain (thanks, Kurt). It quieted him down right quick. I didn't even have to mention his ex-wife. Surely I'm not the only 30-something guy experiencing this pressure. I'm pretty close to announcing that I'm a fag, really. That'll give 'em something to put into the holiday newsletter.

[begin guitar geekdom--you can stop reading here, and it won't break my heart]

I'm finally finishing that jazz bass that has been languishing since the ill-fated tour. I thought that I had a handful of pickups that were suitable. Unfortunately, I have one imported fender j pickup and a p-j set of emgs. other finds were a ton of guitar-related springs and screws, enough hookup wire to wire a thousand banjos, a gaggle of capacitors, some vaccuum tubes, two stratocaster scratchplates [HSS in chrome (loaded) and pearloid (naked)], two precision bass scratchplates [black (unloaded) and white vinyl (undressed)], and potentiometers (way morethan I'll ever need). Since I've rewired every instrument that I've ever owned, I've accumulated a lot of junk electronic parts, it appears. If anyone can use some of this crap, let me know. I'm trying to figure out how to run a "grounding strap" circa 1962 on this mighty mite body, which is not routed to ground the strings. Also, how to run two magnetic pickups, a piezo bridge, and still retain a tone control with a output jack on a four hole control plate. Someone ought to build a five hole plate. Maybe there is such a thing--this is why God made the internets, right? Doctor E-dogg (another bass consultant) just mentioned the battery problem (aka the preamp problem). I hadn't thought about that--maybe I'll wire it semi-standard until I figure out wtf is with piezoelectric bridges. Leaning toward some of the Muy Grandes. With a cover, I won't even sweat that the coils are basically exposed. I love the big chrome covers. Los Rio Grandes de Godzilla are awesome pickups, and they're out of Houston (A.B.T., perras). Seriously, though, Godzilla is the same bass that Tommy Shannon (of SRV fame) used back in the day. I didn't know that until after I purchased Godzilla, which I purchased because it was ugly as sin.

I almost need to start a site for my consultants to contribute to. The idea would be to have a bunch of articles written by third-rate bassists that are on a tone quest. (insert hate mail here) Hell, I ought to have a site of third-rate musicians that are on a tone quest writing (or writting, as the case may be) articles. I could play editor or something.

I totally require a haircut tomorrow. This Paul McCartney 'do isn't working. It's long enough that it's getting really light-colored. I think that I'll have the one named Heather do it right. She's a super cute blonde with glasses. It's all about the girls with glasses, really.

Now, Led Zeppelin rocks. I hope that the neighbors think so too. I just re-did the quadraphonic setup since the evil grey ones discovered that playing with wiring is fun. It must be genetic. I love my girls, especially since the cease fire. No cat fighting is such a wonderful thing. Nitwit is mellow, Jesus Christ is mellow; life is grand.

Sometimes, I Just Don't Get People

The best part?
"He was shot after refusing to hand over money to two armed men."

A New Tattoo; The Doctor Vodka Libertarian Rant; Horrifying

The new tattoo shall be a Mr. Body Tribute. I'd better build myself a gun for this--razors are a little too sketchy. I've been needing for new guitar strings, anyway. I need to figure out a good red ink--ashes won't work on this one.

A call from the RRMP (consuming the Dr. vodkas--him, not me) lead me into a rant about liberty, again. I don't think that I posted anything about this when I heard about it. During my rant, I counted three open packs o' Newports in the Batmobile Mark II. I totally need to quit smoking.

After giving the doctor the play by play of my supertarget experience, he decided that he'd had enough (especially when I started talking about cannibalism). I was horrified by the wallscreens playing an advertisement for the new monopoly game. I hope that the Chambers Brothers cashed in on this shit. I can't believe that an American Idol (did he win?) covered that song, and Hasbro is using it in an ad campaign. It's only five minutes long, and everyone knows that a good tripout bridge requires at least ten minutes all by itself.

I Think That I'm Getting Fat(ter), Again

This working half-time, sleeping full-time stuff is not good. Out of work by 10 a.m., in bed by 11. Okay, three hours doesn't really even constitute half-time, does it? I think that I need to purchase a scale this evening. I probably should get out of the house to avoid the temptation of another nap.

Have I become a sleep addict? Dreams have a higher novelty value than my handful of waking hours.

Goddamn, I'm Sick (but not sick enough for an epic post)

I had a talk with one of my bass consultants tonight. So great to hear Mike's voice. It sucks that his playing has been limited lately. The talk was "double bass: wtf is with it." The rationale behind this talk is still top secret. Between E-dogg and Mike, I've gathered good information on the topic recently.

I got off of the telephone, and got hit with the vomit-o-rama out of nowhere (no codename yet). WTF is with that?!? I do think that it's nerves
(the hypertension is hitting pretty hard--160/95 is a little frightening), but I do think that I'm generally doing better than average lately. Hopefully, I'll just have a stroke and drop dead. Brain attacks do run in the family history on both the McAlister and Binkley sides. The Ziehes all smoke like chimneys and wind up with emphysema, but then straggle on to ripe old ages.

The big trick to feeling better (and coping)--none of this drunk stuff. (insert shocked look here) Really, though, not getting bombed (blackouts) and getting upset about getting bombed and thinking that I'm always doing something wrong seems to be helping. It's like I told my friend: "the trick is to not let your emotions play you." This new and improved mantra seems to be working. I did let some tunes make me cry on the way to work today, but that's acceptable, it was "skinny fists".

R.I.P.

Nobel winner Milton Friedman dies at 94

I've been a fan for years.

Horoscope Nonsense

Whachu talking 'bout Willis? The title is hilarious.

Love Union Upgrade
It is time to speak to your partner about possible changes that need be made in your relationship. Focus on two distinct possibilities and do not commit just yet to any specific course of action. Spend part of the day gathering evidence.

Dream

My team of scientists has completed work on a team of soccer droids. The automatons are winning a lot of matches. I am wearing a cape and an eyepatch.

Good News

But I shouldn't be counting chickens just yet. I seriously might explode if I don't get out of the house.

Two squirrels trapped on my porch today (treed by doggs).

Dream

I'm in Utah, again. This time I'm at a barbeque with Kenny Rodgers and a talking golden retriever. I'm eating almonds.

Weird Television

Apparently, Jeff didn't pay the satellite bill. This isn't the end of the world, but it does mean that I get three channels via the dish: NASA television (watching people sleep on the ISS isn't action-packed); the Spanish version of conversational Chinese 101 channel (really really weird); and Jenna TV (I'm not even kidding).

It's a damn good thing that I have a bunch of VHS tapes, and bad DVDs.

Post Number 1154--Stolen From Tom "Fucking" Murphy

Like this is even news to anyone that knows me, right?

Disorder	Your Score
Major Depression:	Extremely High
Dysthymia:	Slight-Moderate
Bipolar Disorder:	Extremely High
Cyclothymia:	Very High
Seasonal Affective Disorder:	High
Postpartum Depression:	N/A
Take the Depression Test

This is a clever scheme to get me to go to [yet another] shrink:

Do Not Suffer In Silence

Depression often responds well to treatment. Yet the sad truth is that most depression sufferers go for years before getting diagnosed. If you notice that depressive symptoms are interfering with your life and pursuit of happiness, please know that help does exist and you do not have to continue to live this way. Talk to your doctor about depression. The sooner you do, the sooner you will get on with the business of living your life!

If only dexedrine was OTC, all would be fine and dandy in Jeremy-ville. I'd probably weight 80 pounds, but I'd feel like a million bucks.

Alone and Forsaken

Feeling very lonely this evening, and I haven't even broken out the Hank just yet. Also feeling every muscle in my body (wind is evil). I actually only drive one route a week, and the wind just beat me up today. Flexeril and vodka ought to help with that. I hate that hangover, though. It's a good thing that I don't have anything productive planned for tomorrow.

The worst show that I've ever played was one that I took a bunch of muscle relaxants to quell my nerves (I used to get painfully nervous at one point--then, I learned about zoning out on stage). I was attempting to play guitar and Tyson busted his face open when he leapt into the ceiling. I saw some great Longmont punkrock shows at Scott Steele's house. I think that Caste (hell of a band) had disbanded by that point, but, if I 'member correctly, Four played (and those guys could play). I think that I still have a flyer for that show somewhere (I keep them all).

I still can't believe that I ran into Andy and Mark in Fairplay. Hilarious. I'm really surprised that neither of them is in prison.

I'm pretty close to losing my mind because of these felines. I can't take this constant squabbling. Will it ever end? They require a skullbong of their very own.

I left messages. I hope that I didn't fuck up by doing that. Haven't heard back, but these things can take time. Fingers still crossed.

I did get an email from one of the ex-girlfriends. I'm trying to talk myself out of replying. This could be an amusing emotional rollercoaster, though. I know better, but maybe I ought to take advantage? I think that a lot of people would. I won't, at least that's what I'm trying to talk myself into. Still quite screwy about my situation with such things.

Rocking the May 28, 1979 Rush bootleg from the Stadhalle in Offenbach, Germany. It's one hell of a recording, really. They still had the fire. "The fragrance of Afghanistan rewards a long day's toil." Whatever, right? Geddy is out of control on this recording.

For scale

the new project at work is making the jersey monster passable. Lots of wiring.

Documentary Flashback

So great to finally see a punkrock documentary and only have one mention of the Sex Pistols. For me, the film offered a flashback. Sometimes I wish that I was still building suicidal launch ramps (too fast transition that was like riding into a wall) and listening to the TSOL, MDC, Circle Jerks, Black Flag, The Necros, Misfits, COC, Big Black, DRI, Suicidal....(this list could go on too long).

Oddly, the only other people in attendance were two twenty-something girls with studded white belts and cell phones.

I hated living "a million miles from anywhere," and was stoked to leave the Valley (if you don't know where McAllen, Texas is, you're so lucky). Once I got to Boulder, I was the new kid, and nobody was into the punkrock, so I fucking conformed, and abandoned that previous life.

Sometimes, I still miss it. That's when I drag myself out to a show, even if it's to see something rather adult contemporary (e.g. Tarmints).

The Denber Soun

Everyone played well, but most of the folks left after The Denver Gentlemen's set. Yet again, they had weaseled the second slot. Nothing in rock is as irritating as band a, with a big draw, "asking" band c to "headline" to the empty room. Band c should grow some balls.

Bad Luck City did fucking rule. One of the best bands in Denber that no one knows about. Mile High Medical Group is the best for many reasons. I found myself doing the Murphy whip.

The Reverend and Eliza were way visceral. Hellfire and thunder from that kickdrum. Hells yes.

Paul Fonfera may be a great musician (actually, he really is), but The Painted Saints has never done it for me after a couple of songs.

The Denver Gentlemen? I guess that sonically, they redeemed themselves. Still, I'm not a superfan.

I owe people calls today. Fingers crossed.

Has anyone seen this?

Apparently, I'm off to the movies tomorrow after work. Awesome. Too many movies lately.

Sony is the devil.

Confidence.

A very good friend of mine once implied that I could succeed at whatever I wanted to do. I blew dude off at the time, figuring he was trying some ego-boost pep-talk "coach" bullshit (never got along well with coaches, or teachers, for that matter).

For the most part, I think that he was right, now.

Certainly, there are areas where "needs improvement" (the check minuses) still very much applies (interpersonal relationships). With the "career" and the "hobby," however, I've never felt quite so mighty. With the emotions actually under control, I can actually get shit done and feel good about it.

It's certainly an odd flavor of confidence, but it will have to do.

Dream

I'm playing with some very odd sort of quartet with a vibes player, a drummer, a guitar player, and a trumpeteer. I'm doubling on piano (truly a horrifying thought); completing a rather queer sort of quintet.

We check in to a motel and I can't find my room.

Selling Garbage Is Just As Easy As Selling The Rock

Apparently, I know something about marketing (oddly). I went home at 12:30 (to nap, as usual), and the shit hit the fan in the afternoon. It's amazing what a little DIY flyering can do.

I rock.

Octopus Lung

I'm into instrumental music, but generally not "looping man." However, this is some very compelling stuff that I was turned onto very recently at coffee (love that lap steel). A real heartbreaker of a song is here (very long, but so good).

Dig it, kids...this one's for the car.

Dream

I'm on TV, and apparently doing sketch comedy. I'm shaving (my face) and there's something hilarious about that. Strange.

I'm Going to Hell

for not reading email...currently, it sez "Gmail - Inbox (666)". Maybe that means that Google is the devil?

It's much more likely that I am the devil, though. Jesus Christ's mother died yesterday. Landa said that she just dropped dead. Nitwit (aka Jabba the Hutt) is really really annoyed with kitten right about now.

Got Some

'Twas good to get out of the Denber again to witness some rock, and chill with Tom "Fucking" Murphy. I saw them two days after they moved from Chicago, and it was refreshing for the Denber scene.

I totally grew some balls and broke out the camera.
Git Some: Chuck French, Bobby Lewis, Neil Keener, Luke Fairchild. Love the art on the wall.
Luke doing his levitation trick. The audience looks like clones or something. Hilarious. That Shadow is irritating. I want to see TFM's version of this one.

Being in the right place at the right time (luck) plays a big part. Today, I consult manual (I am really evil) and re-learned burst mode, so next time (Bad Luck City) will be better. I totally want one of those nifty GIT SOME t-shirts with the words "GIT SOME" fucking a woman.

GIT SOME at the Surfside?

Count me in. I'm all over that. Pizza, beer, punk rock?!? It'll be a trip down memory lane.

A Ghost; Sick Feline Fun; Disappointing

Last week I was wondering the whereabouts of one of my friends, Julie. I did some audio digitization/cleanup for her before she went to Nepal to work in hospitals (she had these language tapes that were like 5th-gen and needed some help). I totally did the work in exchange for adoration (or something). I'm much more into audio restoration/mastering than I should be, and this was interesting material. I missed out on the analog stuff, but I wound up having to learn a bunch of digital audio nonsense for a few projects. There's something gratidying about "fixing" a crummy recording.

Anyhow, chick turned up two days ago in Wyoming. Hilarious.

Someone is sick, and it's so much fun. I think that Jabba the Hutt is getting all bulimic with the kitten chow. Awesome. She's gained ten pounds since JC moved in.

This recent (poorly tagged--Ogre is only on Smothered Hope, I think) hard drive score is a bummer because it lacks the loud bass (actually, I think that it's not picked or something--it's there but too rumbly--could be a crummy soundboard recording artifact). Then there's the dead air. So bogus.

I used "crummy" twice. Lame.

The heat is on, again.

No one gets pulled over as frequently as I do. (mobile post)

Reduced to Tears

Watched too much of the telenews today, and totally went to pieces. I totally need to score some more anti-depressants.

I'm not feeling well.

A Beautiful Video, Really

One of my favorite songs, and one hell of a video. I'm still reeling from the DEVO show. Stoked to have seen them, even if there was some young guy playin' drums.

The Mandatory Feline Update

It turns out that J.H.C. is one hell of an actress. She only limps (with alternating arms) when I'm looking. When I'm not looking, she totally fights with the Nitwit and runs and climbs.

I'm far too soft. Hurt baby kitty brings out the mother-ey instinct, really. I'm actually nice to the kitty and stuff. This one wants me to talk nicely to her and pick her up and carry her. I will not be manipulated by a 10-week-old kitten again.

I feel bad for mean-talking the Nitwit for (maybe) beating up jesus christ. Nitwit was not keen on the mean-talking (you're a fucking evil bitch, blahblahblah....I'm SO mean).

I totally got the most annoying cattoys today. They'll make me crazy, again.

You Have to Be Kidding, Man

Oh yeah, the horoscope-o-rama has been making me crazy with stupid shit like this recently:

This afternoon delivers more interactions with a partner who seems to be taking you for granted. Things get spicy if you take the initiative and reveal your desires. This person is eager to hear.

Like I'd ever even consider telling someone my desires. As if.

Onomatopoetic, Man

I get to see a lot of interesting signage, and I like to take photos of them when I can. The camera is fixed.

Has Anyone Heard of This Band?

I was exposed to Cactus (appropriately) during that week that I spent in the desert with that metalkid (tm). This was the week of the "y'all are on my property" trespassing incident (thought that we were done for, really).

I just recently discovered that I do indeed posess some stolen Cactus music. I dig it. It's some hippy shit, right? Probably. This track sort of has that Sanford and Son vibe.

(surprised look goes here)

This SOB Has Been Licked

The show in the Springs was a supertreat (tm). Upon my arrival, my rockfriends (tm) commenced with catching up, and the usual back and forth taunting. So good to see Flapjack, Mole, MikeD, and Jon. Davey was selling a house back in P-town, so he wasn't around for this leg of the tour. This meant that Jon took all the solos, and blew me away. He's got behind the head solo chops like Slash, but he doesn't drink as much. They're heading out to Europe soon.

Hillstomp are my new friends. Interesting characters and they made it look too easy.

The Denberkids (tm) are in for a real treat tonight. Really. SOB is one of the greater rock bands around at the moment. Real power and tenderness to boot. Fuck.

I fell asleep while driving home. I'm a bad dog.

This afternoon's napdream (tm) was me involved in some horrible love triangle (which was news to me, of course), and a dude that I tattooed years ago kicking my ass (sorry, dude).

I'm A Horrible Cat Parent

I have no idea what went down while I was at work today. J.C. is now limping around. If she's not well by the morning, she's going to the vet, again. This once a week shit is ridiculous. I hope that she isn't really that hurt.

A Much More Compelling Show

After scoping out the I Can Lick Any Sonofabitch In The House dates, I have totally decided that the show in the Springs will be far more amusing (or potentially amusing). I'm sure that the "Republicans Suck" rockshirts (TM) will sell quite well. Bush-bashing in Colorado Springs is something that I totally have to witness (and I'm tired of the Cocaine Blues for the time being).

If anyone feels like riding along, call me. The price is right for this one, too.

It'll be fun, really. I know that I'll be going alone.

Tonight, the boys are playing at the Atomic Cantina in Albuquerque, which is the venue of my last show. I hope that theirs goes better.

The last time I hung out in the Springs was when we opened for PMFS. En route, Heller and I got lost in the gear-laden batmobile (put on your surprised face), and ended up wandering around the downtown during an apparent festival (springs fling, or something like that). I pissed off some (fucking) cadet because I (apparently) was checking out "his" wife/girlfriend/semen receptacle. Anyone that knows me knows that I'm all about scoping out the chicks, dude.

I wasn't drinking at all for the show. I got completely dehydrated because of the microwave oven lighting on stage (and I think that I was ill--I can't even remember playing the show). After our set, I downed a couple of bottles of water and then cooled off on the sidewalk out front. I totally hurled in the gutter. About this time, some woman with "literature" stopped to tell me that I could turn my life around if I accepted Jesus Christ as my savior.

I gave the "literature" to Heller. He was not pleased.

A Fence

In this dream, I'm in the forest, building a fence to keep something out (of somewhere). It was very odd. It was a masterpiece of a fence.

Jesus Christ woke be by biting my nose.

Lots and Lots of Fun Stuff

In fact, there are more than I can stand. Lighters are really cool, as are the CDR spindles. I have named the cat "Jesus Christ" for the time being (my mother agrees that this is one of my more offensive names for a cat).

Nitwit and I are so annoyed.