Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
At the beginning of June, when Diana Porter left on vacation to Switzerland, Dominic was stricken. "Fuck the Holy Mother," he said, despondent. "Fuck God."
-- The Virgin Suicides
We approach the fountain garnishing the entrance to the Southpoint Theater and make towards one of the interactive sensors that allows control of the height of its various geysers. A very fun idea, and I'm sure the designers pictured applecheeked children enraptured with a sense of newly found power and magic, a sensation which they then carry on later in life. Maybe, though, the designers had a more realisitc, populist vision. A work of art which bestows to you, no matter who you are, how good or evil you have become, even if you are one of an endless parade of new-money, hamfisted recnecks, a small token of happiness which you will then pay forward. The worst of my fears were confirmed when, with a lascivious gesticulation, Jeff coaxes the main jet of the fountain to thrust upward then, burbling, to fall back down on itself over and over.
"Remind you of anything," he said with the subtlety of a 21-YO to Heidi.
"You want to walk around or something," Heidi asks me.
"Nah, I think I'll just sit here and read." I didn't. I read bits of the same page over and over but was fascinated by the motion of humanity around me. I've been feeling distanced from peopleingeneral and I wanted to explore this sensation of closeness that happened to be there at the moment. I noticed the cologne of the people near me was evocative of magnolia blossoms which made me think of the times as a youth and later as an adult seeking the magic of youth spent in those trees which in turn helped me realize that they're probably my favorite tree ever. I try to listen to conversations, but words fall onto each other like the splashing pillars of water. Then, as I looked around, a sudden despair came. Humans have become frail inside our artificial world. Like the necks of African queens we have stretched ourselves to the points of no longer being able to survive without our binding supports. Remove the rings, our necks snap.
H&J return. I don't remember speaking but I must have. Inside I think about how we all assume different personalities depending on with whom we are keeping company and I'm sure that a lot of relationships last or end because a person likes or dislikes who they've become around their partner.
Monday, June 27, 2005
Drinking at a bar is like traveling to a foreign land where the dollar is strong compared to the local currency. Sums you don't normally see associated with 12 ounces of liquid are added to your tab and effortlessly charged to your credit card where you can only hope that the foreign exchange rate will pull the numbers into a reasonable range. Don't worry, it's more like Australian or Canadian dollars. You're on vacation so to speak. It's okay. Should I really tip one "dollar" to that scruffy gentleman because he opened my beer for me? Of course! It's local custom. You don't want to look like a tourist, do you?
Unt now vithout zee benefit of light or any uzah information beink revealed from zee shroud uf mine pantz, tell me, young fraulein, iz mine member erekt?
Sunday, June 26, 2005
"Brian, this poster sez 'all non contact instruments allowed!'"
"So I should get on stage an pretend to be a Theremin player and you could pretend to be a Theremin. As long as I don't touch you we're golden!"
"Oh man... sweet."
Dave Aid, S.C.O.T.S
Most memorable moment: A guy with actively bleeding left wrist spills beer on the bar then sucks it up with an impressive wet-vac sound. "Looks like it's one of those nights," Frank sez.
Earlier in the day I dominated the 12-year-olds in croquette, three-legged-race, and sack race.
Saturday, June 25, 2005
You Have to Work for The Virgin Suicides
Online Check: the book is in!
Biking to the library.... d'oh! Forgot library card.
Biked to library.
Searching... uh.. not there. But the book is in!
Help Desk: "Yo, what up?"
HD-Guy comes up to 8th with me.
"Yep, not there and I can give you a frame-able certificate stating as much."
"Yeah, it should be in. Probably just returned. You can go through the unsorted stacks if you want."
Found! Tucked behind another row of books.
The bike home was beautiful. Fireflys about. Sometimes the world is made just for me.
Charles sat with me for most of one show. He seemed to be doing okay in life. Heck, according to him he was paying more per month in rent than I was. Then he hit me up for money to get some food. I had just ordered a pizza so I went inside and brought it out and offered it to him. With a trapped look on his face he grabs a piece, kind of nibbles on it a bit, then tosses it. "I guess you weren't all that hungry after all, eh?"
Gavin Goodbread did a real solid the other night when I was kicking some bum out and it was just about to potentially get bad he steps in and says, "I'm out of here anyway, c'mon man, follow me," then ushers the guy away. (This was right after Gavin told how his high-school crush sucked off some guy from the Fleshtones when he went into the audience.)
The other night I actually gave two bucks to a beggar because instead of being a black hetro, he was a white homo. It was the novelty, really. Steve (aka "BossMan") may be a homo, but he's such a staple his novelty has worn off.
Friday, June 24, 2005
Two Hour Jog
At 11PM went for a two hour jog, which turns out to be a long time to run. Got home and downed a beer. Mmmmmm. Got a Cosmic Burrito. Mmmmmmm. OCSC. eh... not what I had hoped. I think I may give the bar a little break as lately I'm just not feeling like dropping 10 bucks for two drinks.
The day before Amy gave me two tix for Destiny's Child. Oh. Fuck. Yeah! I'm taking - of all people - Josh Bratcher. We're thinking of wearing bow ties. Whatever we do, it's going to possibly be too Bootylicious for me, babe.
Oklahoma is OK
Now that Jeffrey Rowland is leaving Okalahoma
the state just got a little less cool. Thank god for the Flaming Lips.
Monday, June 13, 2005
Iron and Wine
"This crowd is so reverent!" exclaimed Josh. And he was right, in between songs you could barely hear a word. Everyone was hushed with respect for Iron and Wine. But then - almost as if this universe was created just for my personal amusement - someone cut the most perfect fart sound I've ever heard.
"Did that just happen?" Someone behind us asked no one in particular.
No one laughed out loud but everyone around us began quaking in that kind of silent laugh where they'd go on and on and on and then finally get it under control then the person next to them would start shaking and it'd start up again.
Thursday, June 09, 2005
Spank Me With a Spoon!
Not work safe.
That girl is really upping the bar for us all! How can we compete with blog entries such as, "When Life Throws A Lemon To A Delusional Psychotic She Uses The Opportunity To Smash The Entire Concept Of Lemonade And......................." or, "When I Swallow Cum I'm Swallowing Enclyclopedias"? Plus I feel she's just rubbing it in my face that she looks way better than I do naked. I mean, leave some for the rest of us!
Friday, June 03, 2005
Two Bit Tip
The other night some guy tips 25 cents, and that's just something that happens that you have to take on the chin bc if you always turned it into a battle, you'd be yelling all night. But this guy takes it to the next level by winking -winking!- as if to say, "no, really, all that is for you!"
He comes back a few minutes later with his friend and proclaims, "I can't believe you recommended that ale! It was horrible!"
All bets are now off.
"Really? That's funny because I can't believe you tipped just twenty-five cents!" Then to his friend I say, "and then this guy winks at me as if it were some sort of goddamn prize!" Guy is visibly holding back his anger, but come on. Twenty five cents? He burbles something about do I expect to be tipped a dollar every time and maybe he was going to do a dollar the next time. Note to tippers, if that's what you're going to do, tip the dollar first time, then do the quarter. Or nothing at all. A quarter is pretty much a zinc coated "fuck you".
After being totally let down by Built to Spill, I was rejuvinated by the sweet sounds of Spoon.
I don't know who that girl was, but if she could get Bill Burton to shake his booty, then she's all right in my book.