Complete With Chicken Feet and Liquored-Up Undead

Snow, Man (I swear that I'm only bored and not actually trasheed)

I've spent most of the week waist-deep in snow, and I'm so over it. At least I haven't spent the night in the car again. Colorado is rarely like this, and why I thought that I was down with it. I'm glad that the officials urged everyone to stay home today--y'all not being on the "roads" really made my life a lot easier.

I scared the hell out of a women when I did a 40,000-pound wheelstand in her driveway earlier in the week. The look on her face was fucking priceless.

"Your front wheels weren't even on the ground!! How can you drive like that?!?"
"Yeah, it happens--it's a little nerve-wracking the first time. This job requires nerves."

<> Like an asshole? We short out the ABS (so the old trucks drive like the new ones, which is a little weird, I suppose) and switch out the rears for better (to the xtreme) ratios. Lots of gears helps you get up to a reasonable highway speed. A mighty 20-speed split-shift is all you really need with one of them Cummins diesels. We convert semis into "light trucks" (Boulder county's definition, not mine). The luddite shop rocks. < /post hoc commentary >

Yesterday, I had to rescue a driver that had lost his steering wheel on a bobsled run (apparently, Chevrolet sucks). On the way up the bobsled run, a stupid 17 year-old put himself in the ditch (the alternative was down a cliff). I attempted constructive driving instruction, so that we could get our three trucks out of the hole. He didn't know what the low gear was in his mom's [sweet] SUV. Kid didn't understand "keep your wheels straight." He was concerned that his VSC light was flashing. He kept saying that the VCR light was flashing, which confused me (I'm easily confused). This is Toyota's "vehicle stability control" anti-rollover thing to prevent dumb asses from rollin' (no drugs involved). These systems work, though--I tested the Ford/Mercury version out near Bonneville at that facility. It's actually a little frustrating when you want to go to the xtreme of four wheelin' in utah mud [yes, mud draggin', kids (one of my secret consulting hobbies, right up there with belly dancing, whores, museums, rock-climbing, and driving the i-5, drinking contests, ufo-watching, freakin' out the townies) the salt flats in March are pretty wet and wild]. I wanted to tell him that if that light comes on, you're driving like an asshole (truly), but since his mother was there, I didn't. Mahoney (coughing up blood on the scene after his surgery--so dramatic, really) harassed the kid for bad shovel technique--"you must not be Irish." I endured that shit for so many years.

The decision was made to not go ahead with our set on New Year's Eve. This is quite a relief since the weather has interfered with rehearsals a couple of times now. There are some issues that we have to address, and we will. I'm glad that I have a great band leader for once. Bad ass Steve went home this morning. Coming soon to a venue near you, and shit....

A couple of days ago, I installed the bad ass steve commemorative bass bridge--I'd forgotten that it's so much louder and ringing. I need to scale back my treble a bit (the clicky shit is quite distracting to me). I have metal-guy action back, though. I'm currently lusting for a 1960s Hagström 8-string that I've located (see bad photo--in gunmetal grey of all colors). It appears to be in great condition and is priced right and collectible, if anything. I'd have to re-learn how to use a pick for it to work, but it might be a cool addition. I think that Shannon was looking for one, so I could unload it for a loss if need be. I've decided to think about resale when I purchase instruments from now on. Amps are disposable, still. Also, lusting for a couple of Vox instruments that I'd never play.

Ain't trying to be clever or funny.

I Swear I'm Not Trippin'

I did the Jeremy weather report first thing (literally stumbling out of bed), and I really really saw two or three inches of new snow out there. Since I'm flying solo today, so to speak, I really didn't want another storm. It happens, though.

The best part of the snow is that it was entirely a hallucination. The stress elves (naked, thus, real) must be getting to me.

Metal/Loud?!?

I usually trust Wikipedia more than I should. Here.

The Denver Sound [Scene] RPG

(I'm not quite motivated to expand this one adequately--felt really nerdy and I'm really burnt out)

Whilst driving about the county today, I received a telephone call from Phoenix (don't get me started about that city). Dude was looking for the one they call "Grape Nuts" (thanks John--I've been laughing for days about that). Seriously, it's like we were married or something. I explained to dude that I didn't have a current number on me, and he says, "I have like five numbers for him, I'll try some of these other ones."

This incident has to affect my constitution and thus, my hip-points somehow; I'm not sure if it's a positive or a negative thing. In the game, zero hip-points means an agonizing social death. My character appears to be on the verge of the agonizing social suicide most of the time.

Tom Murphy could do a much better job of writing (or writting) this post.

Tracksuit-wearing guys ain't my thing

I really don't think that I'm that attractive, seriously.

Tito said that I should have delivered a beat down, not because the dude couldn't stop touching me, but because he was gay (then it would be a hate crime). If I don't even feign interest when you try to buy me a drink, I don't want your fuckin' hands on me, Cliff.

I think that maybe I need to reconsider my retirement, and at least keep a girl or two around to run interference.

It Wouldn't be Christmas

if my mother didn't didn't read the Bible at dinner, my stepfather didn't desire the Al-Qaeda to bomb an American city, or we didn't break out a 30-06 after some wine drinking (and then contemplate shooting the brown horse).

A very colorful get-together, for sure.

More Recreational Sleeping

It's a lot more exciting than reality.

In the latest episode, I'm in a gunfight with some bad guys. I have this really big silver gun (insert surprised look here).

Another Dream

I'm hanging out with this gnome in a junk store (not a heroin shop, really). He's wearing a really cool red wool coat, but no gnome hat. He tells me that I shouldn't drink so much.

Insomnia Rules

I'm totally unable to sleep.

Lame to the X-treme

The new drag-and-drop template feature, Layouts, is not available for blogs published via FTP. Update, 12/18: Because Layouts relies heavily on new Blogger’s dynamic serving of pages, this is unlikely to be supported soon if ever.

What this means to me? Google can kiss my ass, etc (I require as much kissing as possible). I'm looking for a new clientware.

Additional Blog Filler (without a Bunny)

I'm stealing gold coins from a tavern that's overcharging patrons to send to the poor, all robin hood style. I put the money in bags and catapult it over a very tall electrified fence. The cops find me out, and after interrogating "that cunt" (why am I still involved with her and living with her in the dreams?!?), beat me senseless.

You Ain't Seen Anything Yet

I can seriously blog up a storm if need be. They used to have contests, and stuff.

Jesus Christ Is Funny Lookin'

She's a teenager or something. Likes to play with the cursor on the computer of doom. My girls rock.

I See No Resemblance, Really

Y'all be the judge:
BJ

versus
Kaptain K

Stratocaster Redemption

A lot of the guitarists that I've played with don't dig strats at all. I'm sure that it's because the guitar really does fight you back to some degree.

I must've deleted my copy of Electric Ladyland--so i've been rockin' live Hendrix for a couple of days (easier than the turntables).

These videos are a fuckin' riot--Tom Murphy and I recently talked about Jimi live, which is really amazing. Weed. Dude makes it look so fuckin' easy.

Some serious Van Halen shit going on here:

My mother's comment on Jimi Hendrix (she went to a lot of sweet rockshows back in the day)--"He was black." Holy shit, man!

On the other hand, SRV technically was as good, but lacked the improvisational vibe. Tommy Shannon's bass sound is a monster on this one (even if he's using a couple of hartke 4x10s):

But seriously, why am I a bass player? Because I love the guitar solo, dogg. Watch out for the hot solo stylings of The Godfather:

I Thought That I'd Seen It All After The Weed Waffles

Hempcone Speakers?!?

We require a sponsorship from these guys. The 10" bass speakers are "Designed specifically to enhance the frequency of the bass guitar." It's hard to imagine the amount of grass consumption in the R&D department. Seriously, all speakers enhance the frequency (I didn't know that there was just one) of the bass guitar after a little bit of weed, man. $125 is steep. The electric grandmother would sound truly wicked after I smoked $1,000 in weed.

I'm sure that the Tornado Alley cats are already working on the tonetubbies sponsorship.

Foods that my cats won't eat

Okra;

Raisins;

Olives;

Tuna;

Chili;

Cheese;

Nachos;

Butter;

Onion soup;

Tortillas;

Bread; and

Pickles

They do appear to dig the grilled cheese sandwiches, gravy, tabasco, and pizza.

The Abdominal Snowman

Dude totally got me sometime in the last couple of days. It was either the copious amounts of shovelling or the dumpster wrestling, for sure, man. The stomach hurts like hell, and I feel weakened--I'm sure that it's just a pulled muscle. Andrew Warner was drumming with something ridiculous like five hernias right up until his hospital date. He's one tough bald midget (or mini-Nosferatu, as the case may be).

Tomorrow is the Festivus shop-a-thon. I so loathe shopping for other people. I might just go to the 50,000-square-foot liquor store. That's the easy way to do it, except for los teetotallers.

Snowblind (Really Not About Cocaine)

although I could use a mood elevator right about now. Eight and a half hours of commute led to spending the night in a parking lot (see photo), stoned on Ambien in my brown clothes. Today was an attempt to get home. Alas, I couldn't see that waist-high drift in the middle of the road. The batmobile mark ii is up past its headlights in this shit. Luckily, it's only a half mile away from the batcave. Walking home was a real bitch (I'm so outdoorsy that it hurts, and in terrific shape, I might add), though. Nitwit was shivering and Jesus Christ was screaming (We're out of cat fud).

The little fuckers are going to have to starve for the time being.

A Day Late

Oh Well...

Who Am I Even Trying To Kid

I told Kurt that I was going to attempt something productive after an extraordinary practice. Alas, the burrito coma hit me hard. I am definitely getting sick. It was an interesting dream, though:

• I'm riding in a car to a Chinese restaurant with some people (don't even know who they were);
• The architecture is all M.C. Escher, like any good Chinese joint;
• I'm wearing a blue silk kimono for some reason;
• I have to sneak a live chicken into the restaurant by wrapping it up in a Westword (this was hilarious); and
• There appears to be some sort of organized crime strangeness at the restaurant (can't explain that, it is just a hunch).

A Flare Up

My therapists would be proud. I almost lost it at work today over some really stupid bullshit. It was bullshit, though, and not some imagined thing. I've only really lost my temper a handful of times, ever. Usually it winds up with a rage blackout, and me wondering wtf happened, and then, the exhaustion (too burnt for a rockshow tonight). I'm sure that spending all morning dealing with the tractor-trailer issues at the county clerk's office had nothing to do with my near miss.

I think that some of my good friends know what real rage is, and I think that they experience it a lot more often than I do. It ain't pretty, ever. I've never been arrested, though. Expelled from school for a teacher assault was as close as I came (that bitch was asking for it, and I don't even remember the beat down).

I'm praying to the rock gods for catharsis tomorrow.

300 MPH, My Friends (infested with parentheticals)

Or so it seems. Things are back into the fast lane, and I'm not even consulting anymore.

The Overcasters is falling into place (and the nicest people that I've ever worked with--I love playing with Erin, especially--she's got this really natural groove thing happening, I can't explain it here). It really feels right, but I don't think that we're honest with each other quite yet. That'll come with time. Maybe I'm wrong.

Work is slaying me (not really, comparatively speaking), I'm slacking, but that RFP did indeed win the bidding war (we were the one company stupid enough to bid realistically, so it's not a huge triumph, but the old guy thinks that I'm alright), so now I rule a casino town, garbage-wise (whoot for me, I suppose). I think that these sniffles are going to get me, but I'm taking my vitamins and not intentionally damaging the immune system for the time being (too much shit going on to get sick now). Mahoney is acting like he requires a new pacemaker (since he didn't get the bypass that he requires this fall). I hate the ill-communication, but I can deal.

Tomorrow is stalking my bass crush at her show (not really, but she makes me feel funny), and begging for advice on something to push it off the cliff (I'm feeling that my sounds are really compressed at the moment). I've changing strings, just to see what happens before I drop mega-bucks on a solution.

Saturday is the RC show, even if I'll feel funny about it. Tito wants to see me there, and I need to experience that SOB. I'll get to see a bunch of my friends at a lame venue, and I'll leave early, I'm certain.

I'm far far behind paying bills and other very important things (oh yes, kids, ulcers are back--no pain, no gain). I hate that, but hopefully the companies, the counties, a couple of cities, and friends will understand the tardiness of my responses (insert van halen riffage here--I forgot my pen-cil).

I'm treading water most furiously, and damn near drowning. Things are fuckin' great, though. If I could paralyze a couple of cats, I'd be set, right now

Burning Joints (Not That Kind)

I don't really think that I'm sick per se, but something is not cool with the bones. It's certainly not helping my rock situation at all. I'm sure that it's just old age creeping up on my unsuspecting ass.

Light a candle for World AIDS Day

I thought you might be interested in lighting a candle on the 3rd Annual Light to Unite website. For every candle lit, Bristol-Myers Squibb will donate $1 up to $100,000 to the National AIDS fund. You can find more information and light a candle here

Bristol-Myers Squibb will not retain or use your e-mail address or the e-mail address of the addressee for other purposes, including marketing. Bristol-Myers Squibb may retain your e-mail address soley for the purpose of forwarding your message to the addressee.

How pathetic is it that they're only willing to donate up to $100,000?

Bears?

I'm fighting a bunch of bears in a snow bank. The bulldog is there and totally losing her mind. I'm wearing the sorels and brown clothes.

One Thing That The Internets Are Good For

Is finding shit that you saw on TV as a child....Bigfoot and Wildboy, etc. The one music video that really blew my mind was this one, which I must have seen in '84 or '85, maybe even 1986, during my year-long groundation after the shooting incident (I'd forgotten about that--Erich will know the exact date). Anyhow, I was sequestered for a year in my room with cable and a heinous 13" color television. It must've been on the MTV back in the day when they played cool shit. Flipping the set on and seeing this shit really defined rock music for me.

Sure, it's totally weird, but I've given away many copies of Larks' Tongues In Aspic. My most recent convert was the Godfather, which was a major victory since he's down with a lot more music than I am.

I love the Hiwatts (this must've been a loud as hell performance) and the backwards fur coat. It's a Beat Club clip, and thus, VERY fucking British. Check out that mellotron (the white midget keyboard before Robert Fripp, who's a reahearsal nazi, apparently). You must love the mellotron (the only use I've found for a sampler). I love that RF is all about sitting.

It was a lot like when I saw The Jefferson Airplane for the first time. I told my mother that I dug it, and she defined the terminology for me. I must've been six or seven, and learning about paraphernalia. My mom wasn't the best parent, but at least she was open about the swingin' sixties.

If the video bandwidth sucks, this is what they were attempting to convey.

The Last Person To Find Out

I must've extricated myself from the scene or something. Erin gets the stripper beat, which is fabulous (even if she was laughing at it while playing). It's all about turning up the "swing" control, really.

Named for an IFR training device. I remember back in the day when I used to play with the IFR hood (dad was a flight instructor, among other things). It was something like this.

This project is going to work out just fine. My ACDC bass stylings seem to be okay. I'm not used to riff-based as much as chord-based rock. This is a good blend.

very uninspiring

actually, they sort of made it more lame.

wild, man

it appears that the blogger clientware has been upgraded, or so they say. apparently, i have new features and shit.

watch out, kids. google owns me now.

Feline Feng Shui

One of my ex-girlfriend's mothers was indeed a feng shui consultant. I frightened her. I know something about it, after many hours of smiling and nodding.

Removing the electric grandmother from the middle of the "living room" has both cats freaking out. They are hiding, like we're moving (soon enough) or something. Cats with buggy eyes rock.

Day Number Two

of "welding and hammering" went much better. I didn't smash my thumb with a mallet, but eight hours of 25-pound sledgehammer is more than this fat man can take. It's cathartic, which is needed. Added bonus--I get to use my spanglish a lot--more on that another time.

I can totally feel muscles that I had forgotten about. The last time I used these was when I was sailing.

I require some rest so that I don't look/feel so puzzled for tomorrow's early rehearsal. Tonight I need to firm up a line on tune number one. It's close, but I need to come unglued for the coda. That, and work a more fluid run between the bridge and the coda. It's so close that I can taste it.

Elated

Although the timetable is not exactly working for us, we'll totally be able to pull this one off. There's a lot of work to be done in the coming weeks.

I don't think that I sounded completely incompetent. It's always awkward playing with new people, though.

Hilarious (Dream)

Dancing senior citizens in matching lavender outfits. I hope that I wasn't one of them.

Rock rehearsal tonight. Awesome.

It Feels Like Wichita

Tonight, Denver did, at least.

I thought that by not traveling so much (the career change), I could cultivate a social life of some sort and stuff. It turns out that I will not. I was, after all, the kid that preferred being alone during recess.

I do miss being out of town semi-regularly. I feel much more comfortable being a stranger in a strange land, it seems.

To Toil Like A Devil

When the snow melts, it's even worse. Today was the donning and doffing of chains eight times for me (in twelve hours). I lost my eyeglasses in the snow/mud/slush. I'm sort of pissed about that, but now I really do have to dip into the amplifier [retube] fund (seriously, though, I'm really happy with this rig, so it's not even painful) for a new set. I ought to force someone go with me, since shopping for the glasses is agonizing to me. It's a lot like shopping for clothes--if it's outside of the comfort zone, forget it. Why can't I do glasses and clothes like bass guitars or amplifiers or cars? All of these are quite utilitarian items.

My arms hurt. The FTW shoulder has a wonderfully green "incredible hulk" (my favorite show as a kid) bruise. Tonight is a bourbon and a hot shower and searching for an acceptable spare pair of glasses.
< /whining >

Another Case of the Mondays

Not enough recovery time is weak sauce.

Ain't They Cute?

I managed to catch a non-fighting moment.

Stolen From The Navy SEAL

1. How tall are you barefoot?
5' 11", apparently.

2. Have you ever smoked heroin?
I've smoked a lot of things.

3. Do you own a gun?
Indeed. I got rid of the autopistols after that rabbi incident, though.

4. Who are your best friends?
I have some close friends, but not best ones.

5. Do you get nervous before "meeting the parents?"
I do, but I shouldn't. I get nervous about stranger danger. Somehow, I make a decent impression, usually.

6. What do you think of hot dogs?
I've never met one that I didn't like.

7. What's your favorite Christmas song?
Silent Night

8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning?
The hair of the dog that bit me or anything that'll jumpstart the heart.

9. Can you do push ups?
Yes, many.

10. Is your bathroom clean?
Not exactly.

11. What's your favorite piece of jewelry?
I don't do jewelry anymore.

12. Do you like painkillers?
I do, but I'd rather that I didn't.

13. What is your secret weapon to lure in the opposite sex.
Much like an angler fish, my penis is bioluminescent, and draws 'em in. Also, weed.

14. Do you own a knife?
Yes, many knives. The most expedient way to end a fight, really.

15. Do you have A.D.D.?
One shrink thought so.

16. Middle Name?
Scott--it came close to being MacDuff, but my mother must've had a moment of clarity.

17. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment?
I'm as blank as a fart.

18. Name the last 3 things you have bought?
incense, bourbon, windshield washer juice

3 drinks you regularly drink
water, dr. vodka, coffee

20. What time did you wake up today?
04:45, as usual.

22. Current worry?
That I really am on the brink of another breakdown.

23. Current hate?
Cats. I hate cats right now.

24. Favorite place to be?
In bed, chillin'.

25. Least favorite place to be?
Stuck in a vehicle with someone that I can't stand.

26. Where would you like to go?
Tahiti to visit. Someplace horribly remote in the U.S. to live.

27. Do you own slippers?
I do not.

28. What shirt are you wearing?
No shirt.

29. Do you burn or tan?
tan

30. Favorite color(s)?
grey, black, and sometimes blue.

31. Would you be a pirate?
The thought has crossed my mind.

32. Last time you had an alcoholic drink?
I'm drunk right now. Not really--but last night I had a few.

33. What songs do you sing in the shower?
When I'm not masturbating? Motown hits.

34. What did you fear was going to get you at night as a child?
The boogie man. He's was all like, "Dance, bitch!"

43. Does someone have a crush on you?
I'd be shocked.

44. Do you wish on shooting stars?
Yes. I've also been known to shoot at stars ("you alien motherfuckers go home")--it's probably a good thing that I don't partake of those drugz anymore, although some stars deserve to die.

45. What is your favorite book?
I really couldn't say that I have a favorite. I rarely read books.

46. What is your favorite candy?
Not too into the candy.

47. What song do/did you want played at your wedding?
The likelihood of that coming to pass is rather remote.

48. What song do you want played at your funeral?
Hopefully, no one will find my body, and I'll just be a missing person for eternity.

49. What were you doing 12 AM last night?
Sleeping and shit.

50. What was the First thing you thought of when you woke up this morning?
Dude, that's some unruly hair.

It's Like Someone is Writing This Shit

Foreshadowing this morning on the phone with Linda Ruth about New Year's eve goings-on, and how I'm typically the last person to know wtf is going on. It appears that I have a show to play. It will have been 723 days (or 1 year, 11 months, 24 days) since my last rock show. Tremendously exciting, kids.

Parade of Whites

The Bad Luck City served me well last night. Andrew is still my favorite drummer in Denver. Dameon was up to his old tricks--after being chased by the police on foot en route to the show, dude kicked out the jams. The best part was calling out the white people at the bar. However, there was significant free-style, breakdancing, devil horns, and billiards commentating as well. Probably the most entertaining front man in town. Hell of a band, really.

The Navy SEAL will have a better review.

Now, I'm back to feeling what I pretty sure is the onset of a major depression. I haven't felt this out of sorts for seven years. This ain't fun at all, kids.

Mortified

I do not want to have a certain conversation today. Really. Hopefully, mom's jacked up schedule won't jive with mine, and I'll have an excuse. I so need to go to that show tonight to decompress.

The horoscope is also troubling:

A romantic flirtation is possible today; perhaps with a certain someone you are not normally attracted to taking a lead role. Explaining that you have high standards will impress this person.