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I was scared when I got home today. I was sure it was George in the basement when I got home. It's bad enough I have to pay $1000 a month for this place, but to have him in the building. Sucks. I keep thinking he will come see what a sty this place is. Tommy would always come and yell at us for what slobs we were. The interesting thing is now that Slingblade is living in the basement I wonder if the building is now stabalized. If so we might be able to afford to stay a while
I'm sure there are worse things, in fact I know there are, but getting busted smoking pot in your folks home is bad. Real bad. This wasn't as bad as the time my dad busted me stealing pot from his stash, but I know where it would lead. Another lecture from my mom about how I would get emphysema, and die because I have asthma. I have asthma because I'm obese. My parents are ex smokers and worse ex pot smokers so they are the biggest kind of zealots their are. Promised pops I wouldn't get high in his house.
So apparently Willy is to be considered our new super. I can't say that his lack of ability is a major change from the previous holders of that job. I never saw Gladys's do much more then sweep and take the newspapers that were left in the hallway and put them outside. She got her dad to paint the halls a hideious green color. That was about it. And Thomas. Thomas nearly burnt the building down and electrocuted himself at the same time. He was putting a new light switch in the bathroom. So we haven't had such great suppers.
"But maybe you are the asshole."
I don't often question anything I say or do. Mostly because I can't remember any of it after about two or three hors. Most of my life, at least everything before 1978 and after 1991, is a complete blur. A fractured jumble. So I've just assumed that it really didn't matter. Taking every day as a fresh mystery. Names, faces, and place all unknowns. I've come to think that maybe this chaotic existence has been draining and begun to feel cut off. No projects completed. Few stable friendships, and so many people pissed off.
I'm growing to hate computers. I'm sure it's me. I'm too rough on them, expect too much. Such as that they work right. At work of course they work fine with the help of a team of techies. I'm sure if I took the time to take courses in windows, and Mac OS I could explain why they freeze up half the time I try to use my dad's Mac or my home computer, but mostly I just want to hit them with a bat. Weren't they supposed to be so easy that a monkey was able to use one?
Got home and finally saw the May entries for 100words. I know where not really supposed to talk about it, but I can't help it. I made some funny typos during the first thirty. I spelled Ori's name wrong. I told Jeff I was thinking about Robert Ory. That was also wrong. He spelled my name wrong. It's all good. I still have only gotten to Feb. 27 of the first hundred. Maybe this weekend I'll try to catch up. I feel a bit self-concious knowing people will be reading, and soon the posts will be up the same day.
Jeff how about a beer
Sitting in a blue car now
Clear vinyl spinning
Someone in the group requested a poem, and so here is my contribution. I just read the Crank poetry slam, and if Jeff had the website finished like he said he would we could get his caustic response, but as it is I'm sure the weeks, or months will ensure no such response will be forthcoming. I just finished reading Jeff's first hundred words. Who knew he complained so much? He seems so stoic. Well, we all have our weaknesses. Got to get a new job
People certainly normal living so close to a lot of what goes unnoticed, ahead of, and our many selves.
Commerce may not be better or worse encountered against a personal standard of ethics more immutable than that of the new technology and diverges finding a tolerance considered outside the individual front door.
Strange, but everyone knows that is not some sort of weird dog story.
We placed our wives outside in a much larger interested population.
Secondly, as each became more easily around the neighborhood, which, let me tell you looks pretty logical. Maligned digital contraptions we know so well.
Jessica Benjamin, and I'm riffing here because I can't find the quote I was looking for said that the top in a sdamomasochistic relation is try to reach out for a conection while the bottom of the realtioniship is trying to be connected with. If I've gotten that right then Buffy uses violence to express her emotions, and by beating Spike she is externalizing her fear of her inability to love. Spike on the other hand by being chiped and feeling helpless is cut off from those things that gave his life meaning, and needs to feel conected to something,
I've had one of those kinds of weekends that lead to heatataches and strokes. Thursday we had hamburgers, and found out that Matt's ex-girlfriends was buying the Euclid Tavern. Friday night we had pound and a half T-bones from Staubitz. Saturday morning we just had bacon, a pound of bacon. That night chicken fingers and peanut butter and chocolate cupcakes with a duce deleche frosting with chocolate and peanut crumble. We also put dulce de leche inside the cupcakes. Today I had more chicken fingers with our pinapple-chiplotle salsa. Also had waffles with sausage. And now Matt is making cookies.
7:14 AM before I even awoke for the day Timothy McVeigh was dead. Can't say that I was particularly happy about it. It's funny he could have gotten away, but he insisted on driving away from the scene in a car with no license plate with a gun visible. He then insisted on gloating about how he did it alone, and seemed proud of the death's he caused. I don't understand how killing is the appropriate response to killing. Jewish security forces kill some bomb-throwing terrorists, blow up something. FBI kills a woman holding a baby blow up a building.
THE DISTANCE BETWEEN US
You found definite weakness,
These anonymous ones continued out
And the stimulation between consciousnesses determined.
Who slowly resurfaced outside my window?
Day in and day out,
By the garbage cans, and others you pleasure and get started with,
By the time you realize how destructive, altering our cravings.
I'm concerned I love it.
Phyllis's voice crackles like static on news radio acetate,
Cracks sibilant treble, and I am gone.
Sammy how's my little man, you finally called me back,
I got you colored paper, you've been good to Daniel.
I'll see you.
I've used a bunch of bongs during my time as a pothead. There were Matt's bong's Lead foot, and the sinister clown, and mine I had two three footers and a one footer. They must have had names. When Matt was at Binghamton he was hanging with a group of people who made bongs. They called one Lucifer. It was a whole bunch of two litter bottles. I almost foregot the first bong I used. It was a soda can. I can't remeber what kind. It had a pen and aluninum foil bowl. This is a story for another time.
Ok, so I threw up. On the way home from the Pourhouse with Jeff. I knew pounding that last beer could cause a problem. I had a Cosmo, and was drinking a beer when he showed up. He called before midnight and asked if we wanted to go to the Pourhouse. Matt said no and went to bed. Well he was on the couch when I left and is asleep now. So I went to the Pourhouse. Oddly, no Mimi; knocked on her door before I left. So I got there waited a while before going in, and started drinking.
Things are getting more than a little ugly with Phyliss at work. Guess I shouldn't be surprised. Everyone said she was impossible to deal with. She didn't get along with Richie and Braulio who were the people I first saw her interact with, but I figured it was just because they didn't work hard. Then I found out that she couldn't get along with Diane who is about as resonable a person as you can find. Now that I think about it most stories involving Phyliss is about someone wanting to attck her, or being talked out of attacking her.
Tired of trite murders
An effort to keep four walls
And almost motionless
Don't think I could feel less motivated. I've been seating around watching TV. Went from the Mets to Earth: Final Conflict, and then Andromeda. This is shit I'd never watch, and I'll watch most Sci-fi. I saw the Stargate movie, or at least 60 percent the sound was off part of the time. Saw a little of this movie about rumours. It was a slow day. Then Jeff came up and he showed Matt some web stuff, and we drank a bit of jug wine and beer.
I was thinking about how devalued the word greatest is how p.r. has made people so self-congratualatory, but that is so obvious. The show that everyone is talking about. I don't know where you work, but where I work we hardly ever talk about tv, and when we do it's mainly sports, and that is almost exclusively Knicks, Yankees and Mets. Once I heard people talking about Sex and the City. That got me thinking is there something wrong that Kindercore put out a greatest hits disc. I'm just wondering, nothing personal against them but do they have any hits?
I'm in a maudlin mood tonight. I was considering the fact that my circle of friends was so small. I know it's not true. I have people I like whom if I bothered to reach out to on a regular basis I coul go out more often, but that would me not spending as much money on drugs, and trying to budget my money a little bit. So instead I sit around saying oh woe is I I have no friends. As opposed to the truth Oh woe is me I spend to too much time getting high. Better now.
Another late night at Jeff's a dunken night with man old stories retold. Kafka, and the poptarts. Tommy the Junkie Cousin. And How Jeff paid off the wife. It was a good time. We talked about what it take to do things and spent money we would never have, and would you still work. Jeff kept the beer going while I drank his jug wine, and Matt kept rolling.
How to disappear and never be found. If I ever publish a book of stories, or poetry that is what I want to call it. It's a call to arms. Definately
It's so damm hot in here. When I got home the heat was on. How crazy is that. I don't know why it was that way but it was. The pipes in the bathroom were so hot that I was getting a little dizzy just standing there. I talked to Mimi about it and said to wait for Jeff. I don't know why, but because he was married I figured he had to be able to do that tool man stuff. He did install our a.c. so he shut off all the radiators, and look at the boiler in willy's.
Is Guided by Voices, by that I mean Robert Pollard, making less interesting music. I just heard the recording of I drove a tank from the bootleg website. It's from the Soft Rock Renegades. I think I would have found that more interesting two years ago. I get the feeling that I've heard that before. While Greg Demos swears that Self-Inflicted Areial Nostalgia was Robert's coming out part. Titus was the start of something new. Airport5 and the other side products don't give me the charge the ep's released during that period, and comparing the bands live show is depressing.
Sleeped in till 9:15AM. Didn't have my alarm clock on. The second time this month. I always turn it on right after I turn it off. Stayed home and cleaned. Changed the litter box, and did some dishes. Filed up maybe five garbage bags. We have an exterminator coming. First time in a long time. Got Caesar's medicine, and talked to the doctor about getting someone to help with Caesar when Matt's away. I should talk to him about it but I don't want to. Got to Tom's place. I owe him $600 for pot. I'll pay him off someday.
Ori is gone for ten days or so, and our skewville project is on hold till she gets back. We talked about the art, and I told her a bunch of time she could do what she wanted with a few guidelines. This will be my first new bong since I got that 1ft. Glass bong when I started at the counsel. It was pretty, but too hot. Should have waited till I could get the 3ft. They have a big chamber to fill, and the smoke cools nicely. Man oh man I can't wait for Ori to get back.
We have at least tried today to turn over a new leaf. I remembered what Elana said about keeping the place clean, and I figured it wasn't too much to ask of us. Don't leave any garbage over on day, and keep the sink clear. Just do the dishes and take out the trash. Also changing the liter. Seems cockaroches are into shit. With these simple steps and regular trips from the exterminator we will stem the tide of the infestation, and the apartment will be a more plesant place to be. Now we have to stick to the rules.
Tonight was the last regular season episode of Daria. There will be a two our movie "Is it college Yet." It was a good episode. Boxing Daria, went into her families past, and described a fight her parents had because she was so antisocial. Had some real good Jane-Daria bonding, and some nice stuff with Quinn and her parents, also some Tom action. This leaves the Chris Isaak Show as my favorite thing on TV. It has been a real lifesaver during this bleak time for TV. Cable shows: Chris Issak, Daria, Six Feet under, and soon Stargate. Cable, yeah.
Diane Tranberg, who is in school to be an evangelical minister, said something to me today at work that I know wasn't real wisdom, but seemed like truth. She said "Sin is sin and dirt is dirt." I had asked her about whether hypocrisy was mortal or venal sin. Diane and I had been talking about it visa vis Phylis. I told Diane T. ThatI was asking her because she was an expert.
My keyboard is filthy. It is getting to the point that I don't want to use it anymore. I have got to do something, and fucking soon.
Why is there something instead of nothing
What is the sound of one hand clapping?
If a tree falls in the forest and nobdy is there does it make a sound?
Werner Heisenberg and the Uncertainty Principle
These are all supposed to inspire some sort of awe at the uncertainty of the world. But they don't. They are just as cheap as anything else is. Just as big a cliche, and yet they persit as part of the collective think, as much as anything can in a world and culture so fractured. Next Disney raps on ice.
I'm sure this is not a new observation, but the gentrfication of Williamsburg has made another leap. No longer is the crime of the neighborhood. That's righ Williamsburg is importing its criminals. Way back in the early eighties New York magazine put Williamsburg on the cover wondering if it would be the new hot spot. My dad said it was too dangerous and would take twenty years to happen. He was wrong it took about ten. Now about thirteen years its prosperous enough for criminals to come from other neighborhoods because they thing we have things worth taking. I'm proud.
Went into the studio tonight. Tried to keep it simple, and focus on playing real beats. Trying to get feels, and grooves. I was listening to Bulk by Jack Logan recently and was digging it. I had always felt it was a weakness of the record that the backdrops didn't change much, that the arangments were so spare without much noodleing except by the guitar. It had been compared to Guided by Voices which was so factured and one tack oriented, at least during the titus-alien lanes era that it was a let down, but it's something I can use.
Another month gone, another 3000 beautiful words to sow that I cna't spell, and the hundred plus thousand dollars my sucker parents spent on my education for me to be a secratary were a total waste, but more important I think is to think of the people we have lost along the way, Roy, Tony, Elana, Jen, and the people joining: Kim and Ben. It has been an fun expeience, and a tough one to crank out a quantity especially with the horrible inappropriate crap Matt is playing while I'm trying to write this. Compleatly killing the mood, God Damm.
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