Every night they come. Relentless. It's been said that they are not real and can't harm you, but that's a lie. The worst of mine make my neurons feel burnt out (think high fever). They are also good at ruining the subsequent day as my conscious mind takes the time to sort out what is real and what is not real. I guess all of life is like that: a giant game of determining what is real and what is not real. No fun.

ninfamous: things that should be famous but aren't (also see: nword).

Like my blog. Woe is me my blog. Why do so few people read? I've built it and nobody comes. Damn-damn, son-of-a-bitch.

As safe as the Olive Garden. OK, I've created it, now go forth and use it.

Thanks to Jennifer Garrett for the Pink-Floyd-birthday-gift-that-never-arrived-(Amazon's-fault)-but-morphed-into-a-quasi-house-warming-gift-of-an-Easy-Rider-DVD. That's so cool. It's my first ever DVD (I don't even own a DVD player) and nearly favorite movie. Thank you.

I haven't spent my ten bucks on Mel yet, but if you want a film about God that will give you the chills, give Second Coming a shot. Good luck trying to find a copy -- I accidentally happened into it on an unemployed afternoon on Capitol Hill in Seattle (2001 SIFF). I was soul searching and actually found part of it. You can view the trailer here: 128kbps or 56kbps

It's life changing.

Somewhat in honor of bjg's great debate, I give to you the "midnight train goin' anywhere (5.74 MB)."

Yeah, I had Journey playing last night. It's such a comfort thing for me -- a return to my 5th grade crushes on how they were going to save me from the bitter world. The thing is --Journey's over; those days are gone. If you listen to them now you might as well feather your hair, stick a comb in your back pocket, and then get into your Camaro. Is it worth the ridicule? So, it's tough to comfort yourself with songs of nostalgia. Even in the privacy of my own apartment I felt the pitiable burden of how-it-was-said in Cinema Paradiso, "don't give in to nostalgia." Worse, I called my friend and told her that I was listening to Journey and then asked her how pathetic that was. Her response? "Who's Journey." Worst, even Journey themselves slapped me around with a bit of irony, and that's the ultimate humiliation:

"We all end up in a coffin, so unless you're Egyptian, there's no use in
spending all of life to build a tomb." -tqb 2004-03-05

The problem with Julian Lennon wasn't a J. Lennon not living up to his namesake. The problem was that Julian ran into the mid 1980s -- the worst period for music production ever (Save for a few albums. Living Colour's "Vivid" readily comes to mind). Not that the producers were bad either. Patrick Leonard produced Julian's "Mr. Jordan," and while he didn't help Julian much, Leonard also produced Madonna's "Like A Prayer," which may be the best pop album of the 80s (1989) excluding Prince's "Purple Rain".

So, give Julian Lennon's, "You're The One (8.06 MB)" a shot, but try to filter out that mid-80s paradise-production crap.

Sunny days of hope...

In Seattle we have a brew called Tilted Kilt and a brew called Kilt Lifter. Now, that all works for me and everything, but I think what's really needed is a beverage called Skirt Loosener -- kind of a Zima/hard-lemonade/apricot-ale thing. Even more needed is the return of generic beer, but instead of calling it generic, it would be called Econobuzz. An offshoot of Econobuzz would be Unemployedbrew -- the same thing as Econobuzz, but with a higher alcohol content and less expensive retail price. Further derived from Unemployedbrew would be Greekbrew -- the same thing as Unemployedbrew but with pull-tabs on both ends to enable easier shotgunning.

But is she ready for a link? Ooh, unfair...

I'm finally going to take the time and prove my intelligence: I'm one smart motherfucking dude you motherfuckers. Cool. I feel better now. Proceed.

I heard a radio advertisement today for sedation dentistry. I thought it was a joke, but apparently it isn't. Now, that all works for me and everything, but if we're going down that path I think what's needed is hookah dentistry -- or bong dentistry if your pleasure is anxiety-grass in a Glad sandwich bag. C'mon y'all, I'm reasonably certain Timothy Leary didn't have dentistry in mind when he said, "turn on, tune in, drop out." Fuck, if sedation dentistry is available, then I want sedation workplace. But really, a trip to the dentist office is sounding more-&-more appealing: you get some nitrous, you get some sedatives, and the you go home with a prescription of Vicodin. Makes me want to stop brushing my teeth.

Is it garbage?

NO: dead animals weighing over 15 pounds.

"It then got stuck under the covers, but he knew it was in there, so he was just going obsessive apeshit to find it." -- tqb

"We are living on a dying planet,
We're killing everything that's alive,
And anyone who tries to deny it
Wears a tie
And gets paid to lie"

...

"The 80s were a waste of time."

Having touable holding menttal tihngs together but maybe it's just thte new house. Axnitey is a fun game, it used to scare me, now it just bemuses. I'll have to burn a little white pill tonoight, to sleep, not to chill. Whichs sucks, 'cause I'd rather have something lesse, something like vlaium, 'cause valium fdoes help that dash; alas no valium... I had this thought tongith: \"if you're gonna live in the house that I lived in, then you'd better be good to it." I'll hold it together; I too chikcen shit to llook behind curtains that we can't udnerstand.

I can't seem to coordinate the pauses in my writing on a good post or on something profound...

Blogging is humbling: you write something clever, you write something exciting, you write something inciting, you write something insightful, you might even use a focking semi-colon -- and you're going to stir people up, you're going to rouse, you're going to piss people off, you're going to make people think that you suck or make them think you are great. And what happens? No reaction. Day in, day out, nothing.

Last night my friends and I were discussing the city of Seattle's approval of disposing of dead animals weighing 15 pounds or less. I spun a joke off of it, and upon re-telling that joke, a question arose: what if you have a 28 pound dead dog? Is it legal to throw away half a dead animal as long as the half you were throwing away didn't weigh more than 15 pounds? Crank Yankers should get in on this and give the Seattle Utility Department a call.

As I was leaving band rehearsal yesterday, I uttered the phrase, "I'm going to make like a screw and bolt." Wakka-wakka, hey? Oh god stop. I've since thought of "I'm going to make like a nut and bolt." Stopping now...

Really.

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I have never considered myself a capable practitioner of the tenet of "live each day like your last." If you followed me around on a daily basis you'd easily see that my primrose meandering is a huge component of the my goddamn pussy nature. I live each day like I am live-with-a-couple-of-nets, a harness, a crash helmet, and a thick foam-rubber mattress to boot. But that's just the surface of me. Closer examination yields a Belafonte-boat-load of bad decisions, unopened bills, random trips to NYC, detours in career decisions, multi snooze-button hits, drunken nights, drunken mornings, unopened psychoanalyst bills, skipped yoga classes, and Turkey Day indulgences whenever it's deemed necessary -- like there is no tomorrow. You reap what you sow, but in my case, if I don't sow anything I just trek down to the local Thriftway and pick up what I lack. I complain about it, but I'm so sucked into the Capitalistic machine that I allow my whole day to be positively influenced upon marveling at all the incredible features on my new washer-and-dryer. Jesus said go forth and purchase many home appliances and God said that it was good.

eo-f-m

Earlier this evening, one of my cats vomited on my non-carpeted, kitchen floor. This is the first time in his life he's chosen something other than carpet to puke on, and it's really put a dip in my hip and made my entire day worthwhile.

Inertia is heavy.
.
Ever notice that a coal from a fire gets a little bit brighter just before it burns out for good?
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Remember that commercial that scorned the habit of ending sentences in prepositions? Well, they'd should fuck off. You know?
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Birdie emoticon:
..|.,

While waiting for life that sucks to die, why not listen to my favorite unsigned bands: TQ's Garage Band Playlist.