Monthly Archives: September 2011

September 30, 2011 – Song Song 331 (Day 35)

I have gone number two in a Jewel bag stretched over a bucket because there was no working plumbing.

More. Than. Once. Song 331 (Day 35)

Liz Phair – Divorce Song

I wasn’t planning on this but I am going to tell you something very, very personal tonight.

It just happens to me sometimes. And I don’t really know why.

Maybe because I want to try and explain how low you can go.

And show you that there is always a way back up again.

I guess I should feel embarrassed.

About more than the Jewel bag. But I just don’t.

Although it does help that the VHS copy of my student art films seems to have gone blank.

•••••••

I used to live in a haunted house.

The walls used to mock me by not moving. And the floorboards used to moan under my feet. Every single god damn tile and all of the grout in between. The kitchen counter and each window pane. The whiteness of the bathtub making echoes out of the dull hum coming from inside each electrical outlet.

My bedroom door even shut differently than all the others.

Because it wasn’t hollow.

Because it wasn’t supposed to be the door I slept behind.

I, was supposed to sleep upstairs.

•••••••

Several years ago now I came to own a house that was a wreck inside. I took it down to the studs, down to the skeleton, down to almost nothing, and built it back again, with my very own hands.

And I didn’t do it alone.

Imagine being in your bed, with your eyes closed, knowing that if you opened them you’d be surrounded.

By the ghosts of Home Depot days gone by.

It used to frighten me so much that it took almost a half a bottle of Tequila to shut them up.

I’m not proud of that, but well, that’s how it went down.

•••••••

Laughing in this house means more to me than you can ever know.

And that’s the reason I celebrate every single thing that makes me smile.

Worse things than that will happen to me someday.

That’s how it works.

But for now, please don’t tell anyone that I don’t own this record.

Just make a joke and show me that video you made in college instead. ♥

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September 29, 2011 – Song 330 (Day 36)

I could say this:
Your choose your best friends because they make you face your true self.

But because I crack myself up, instead I say:
Nothing like spending time with your inside magnets to remind you why the desert once ruled your dreams.

It’s annoying right?

Well, not quite as annoying as a funny little snarky fish smoking all your cigarettes and telling you…

Forget about the water. ♥ Song 330 (Day 36)

Today the first human I talked to, a stranger, told me that his friend in the FBI said they get most of their info on a new suspect from Facebook. Which made me laugh.

You can guess why, I’d assume.

But what do I have to hide? I’ll tell you anything. And have. That I smoke? (considering quitting) That I swear a lot? (fuck that is gonna be hard to stop) That I think a lot of weird ideas? So do lots of people I know. It’s a free country, right?

If the USA wanted to bust me for something what could they even pull out of this pile of fruit loops?

But then a post I saw the other day crossed my mind.

Don’t Bogart the can man.

What if that really was it. As silly as it seems. What if that was the thing most peaceful people could legitimately be arrested for according to the current laws? Not even if you had actually done it?

Guilt by association. Guilt by a friendship.

Guilt by a funny comment.

Just enough something, to have a reason.

Listen man, I might be into a lot of stuff, but conspiracy theories are not one of them.

You figure it out. And report back. But not on Facebook.

In fact, send me a postcard, stoner. ♥

Shit, now you’re in for.

Oh shit.

What do people say instead of Shit?

I really don’t think people are going to take me seriously if I say Shazbot instead.

Crap is still ok, right? Even my Mom says that.

(I’d say ‘Sorry Mom’ but she says that one. A lot. ♥)

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September 28, 2011 – Song 329 (Day 37)

I woke up the other day longing for the Winter.

Like not the good part even. The empty, silent, when you have almost had too much, spend your days hibernating and planning your escape from the Midwest, sunless, barren, middle earth part.

That stretch when the snow has gone gray and it seems like it’s dark all day.

Well, I guess that is it. I am officially a nut.

I actually woke up that day thinking about something else too.

It’s so lame I hesitate to write it even. That’s a laugh.

I was contemplating The Facebook Me Vs. The Twitter Me. I kept thinking about the difference in the ways people interact with me or what people can see. There are people who know me in person. And there are people who know me only on here. Some people know me in every way and there are also people who I am friends with on Twitter and I can’t even tell if they are a boy or a girl. Some are just robots even.

Some people who literally used to wipe my butt and some people I no longer speak to in person.

It’s weird right?

I heard something the other day about a friend I love that I fucking hate. In fact, I still have a hard time believing they actually once upon a time did this thing. But all signs point to it being the case. It is so out of their character in a way that it almost seems like they had to do it somehow.

Like it was out of their control. Like if they didn’t do this awful thing then something else, that had been brewing, something that needed to fall apart somewhere, wouldn’t have happened.

As if it was a part they had to play.

Or maybe I am just a mental baby and I have to think up weird explanations so I don’t have to face the fact that people just do really shitty ass things sometimes and we never get any smarter. Myself included.

••••••

This last weekend my friend Mere was freaking herself out by guessing where things were in my Mother’s kitchen. They are both Libras. And they act like it to.

I just sat there watching her opening cabinets and say things like, “Yup. There’s the Soft Scrub. Exactly what I would buy and exactly where I would put it. Oh good and there is the sponge that is just for the Soft Scrub riiiight next to it. Now how about the baking sheets? Yup. Not to far from the oven but closer to the…”

If it makes you feel any better I think your similar heights as human beings are also a factor. Shelf wise.

And if that don’t work maybe this here jar of Dilly Beans will do the trick? ♥

Lately I have been wondering if we find these people out there, not just our Mothers or our Fathers but other people too. Like a repeating play but with different words and different people but the exact same High School Drama Club all over again. We just don’t want to believe that is all there is.

Or maybe that’s liberating.

Like, this is as dumb as high school. Your life, right now, is as silly then as it is silly now. Somebody just told you it wasn’t. Sure you learn things with experience, but you could still get hit by a bus. Tomorrow.

So just do whatever. And try not to be a jerk. Someday you will have to look back on now too and you will cringe at the things you have done. And all the things you haven’t.

Maybe we never really get any older, it just gets harder and harder to forget to remember.

•••••••

I have known my Mother since my beginning of days and I am well aware of how annoying I am.

So, I have long been giving her “presents” to make up for it.

And now I am compelled to give another Libra a present for the same exact reason.

You’d think I would just stop being annoying instead.

But I just don’t think it is in the cards. ♥

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September 27, 2011 – Song Song 328 (Day 38)

What makes three women in a car spontaneously go “UGH!” at the exact same time?

The first note of this song.

Trust me. Heard this here phenomenon with my own eyes.

Song 328. (Day 38)

Why are we like this? I don’t know. And I don’t care. ♥

When we all yell “Sax Solo!” together later, well that is just the icing on the cake.

This video is the reason I have upgraded one of the plans in the Frier Factory from having a dream of hosting the Mtv show “120 Minutes” to hosting an hour long internet video show where I can play anything I want. I’m gonna have to do it on the internet. No one would ever let me do something that weird on a real channel.

Months ago my friend Jason told me one night at the bar that he “checked in” everyday with me and another friend who’s political worldview he trusts. Like some kind of Nutso News Network.

I don’t know what to make of that. Except that I was flattered. By a dude telling me he looked at my Facebook profile like a Weatherman.

Humiliating right? That I would be flattered? By Facebook.

I guess beauty is where you find it indeed.

You may have noticed a numerical change. It is a countdown now for me too. I figured Jesus wouldn’t mind if I janked that whole 40 days thing. In fact he is supposed to love me no matter what I do, if I’m not mistaken. In fact, I’m pretty sure that’s his whole thing. No matter what anyone says.

That’s what he said.

Besides 4 is my lucky number anyway.

I was born on the 4th Day of the 4th Month.

The year be damned.

•••••••
“I shun father and mother and wife and brother when my genius calls me. I would write on the lintels of the door-post, Whim. I hope that it is somewhat better than whim at last, but we cannot spend the day in explanation.” -Ralph Waldo Emerson

Waldo never explained that was more of a cautionary tale than a mantra.

The Significance of 40 Days.

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