i am going to have an all-out throw-down fiesta may 3, the day the pixies release their dvd. they're doing a "world" tour, which is already sold out and whose only u.s. venues are in califuckingfornia. we should be grateful for what we get i suppose. also pj harvey has a new one coming out may 31.

chris rock has another hbo special on april 16 i believe. that's another party. nigga.

rx wallow and stew

being depressed is like walking around with a big wet carpet on top of you. it's during these periods that i keep myself on a steady diet of sleep aids - doxylamine succinate (25mg) or diphenhydramine hcl (non-habit forming) or, when i want an all-around xanax-comparable experience, i use acetamenophin (500mg) and dyphenhydramine hydrochloride (25mg) in conjunction with the two aforementioned. really these are all just over-the-counter sleep aids, but i like to be dramatic at times. when i come to these fight-or-flight situations i go with option inconsciousness, which i suppose really is a type of flight.

i got some posters in the mail that i ordered on ebay (about a month ago slow-shipping dicks!) of the dandy warhols, elastica, the rapture, blake babies, and the raveonettes. i'm not going to put them up while i'm still living with my aunt - only when i have my own place will i allow myself to put them up and enjoy them. motivation for the un-motivated.

album du jour: stereolab margerine eclipse

in general i'm not a huge fan of stereolab; their albums usually have one or two tracks that i like and the rest is borderline filler, but i really enjoyed this, their latest.

a penny for this?

this afternoon i dreamt about nascar (yes, the cars that do circles). for some reason i had an aerial view of the last lap of a race, and the winner won and got out of his (or her, do women race?) car and was congratulated enmasse. but then two men among the mob pulled out guns, a mix of rifles and handguns, and just started shooting people dead. the crowd started running and scattering but the guys kept picking off stragglers. the winning driver walked up to one of them to plead with him to stop but the gunman shot him in the face. this dream really wreaked of tranch-coatness, which is not me at all. i think maybe it's just some manifestation of my extreme distaste for auto racing, or sports of any kind really (except for most extreme elmination challenge on spike - that shit is redonkulous!). what i'm curious about is this: the day before i have a dream about something that i usually don't dream about i have a passing thought about the subject for roughly one to two seconds, and that's all. for many years it was tim curry and the movie it, because i remember that movie sticking with me for a while (mostly because i was probably too young to have been watching it and it scared the bejeezus out of me). i don't remember thinking about auto racing yesterday though. i don't think i even turned on the tv yesterday. the only thing i could come up with is that there's a song called nascar by this band francine that i really like, and i believe it was on rotation yesterday here in my one-room brothel. i should start listening to songs about fornication. 2 live crew comes to mind.

album du jour: air talkie walkie

i'm so emo lately.

current mood: postal service give up

i need to invent some really positively-aligned mantras to repeat to myself during what seems like the constant onslaughts of depression fits i'm plagued with. and definitely avoid the sad bastard music at said times - counter-productive. i love you all.

anna how did you do it?

i've been coming up with responses to comments about weight gain, and i think the best way to deal with such observations is to chalk it up to whimsy. thus, i've conjured the following explanations to the remark "have you put on weight":

- yes i'm training for the nfl
- i was stung by a bee and i'm allergic
- i'm auditioning for a part in the porno version of "whale rider"
- i'm auditioning for a part in the beastiality film "whale ride her"
- i am making a documentary about the effects of eating only mcdonald's food for a month. what? fuck!!!
- i ate a baby (no idea)
- i'm pregnant (oh feel those kicks, he's gonna be a soccer player. he is... he iiissss...)
- trimspa baby!
- yes i'm starting to fill out quite nicely
- lay off me i'm starving

no those last couple aren't mine

album du jour: polara polara

twist to open

i wish all plastic soda bottles would have messages under the caps. i almost even look forward to the "sorry try again" message. now i instinctively look under plastic caps whether there's a contest running or not. the marketers have trained this consumer well i guess.

pretty grils make graves are great. i have an andrea zollo signature on a napkin. i tried to get her phone number but she laughed at me....someone from the area must have warned her ahead of time. damn you! i'm going to go get drunk again.

album du jour: pretty girls make graves the new romance

kill snow birds 4

on the road three houses down from my house was a dead dog. i stared at it for ten minutes i think. i was still fucked up from the pine sol. it was just too pitiful not to look at, and made me sadder the longer i conceived it. and the blaring contradiction stared me in the face, of lamenting a dead stray yet feeling nothing at speargunning my father's father. the notion of being a hypocrite is very unappealing to me, but i figured if millions of church-goers could do it why not me. i'm no better than anyone, far worse in most cases.

so i finally went inside my shanty. i tripped over my fucking scooty-puff in the dark and kicked it into the kitchen. i turned on my metronome without turning on the lights, then took some red bull and vodka from the fridge. this day sucked. every day sucked, but this one in particular, what with having to kill a relative and the dead dog and all. not to mention my fucking scooty-puff, which i think now had pieces missing. i sat on the floor and opened my mail.

album du jour: midwest product specifics

for anyone with decent taste in music, and within reasonable distance to baton rouge (port allen actually), the band pretty girls make graves is going to be playing at 415 music hall on the 22nd, which is this coming monday. the constantines are playing the same night, which should also be good.

i'm summering in baghdad this year

it's really funny to watch scott mcclellan being interviewed in the white house on cnn preaching how wonderfully the progress in iraq is going and the democracy that is now flourishing there, while pictures of the latest bombing and the burning buildings, smoke, chaos, and body bags are shown in the background. it blows my mind. this entire administration bases its policy justifications on telling people that it's raining while pissing on their shoes.

album du jour: camera obscura to change the shape of an envelope

suck my ass maria menudos

i don't care how many internet sex tapes she makes, paris hilton can go to hell and die. famous for the sake of being rich is one of the most condemnable things i can call to mind. it's not entirely her fault (society you fuckers!), although she can be blamed for the flaunting and modeling and camera-whoring and nicole richie-ing she does. side note - if you never saw nicole richie eat it while trying to ride a harley on some pre-awards show red carpet, well, then you just haven't lived.

i need to quit watching et on vh1. everyone wears too many colors and accessories and denim and i feel stupid because i don't know what happened last week on the oc. afterwards i just feel old and crotchety and i have to drown my sorrows in antihistamines. damn you vh1!

album du jour: the loveless gift to the world

kill snow birds 3

anymore i can't lie unconscious and not have stress nightmares concerning the countless technical manuals i was force-fed during my education. the questions of morality that then plagued me dredge up feelings of guilt and worry that during my waking hours i do not have. but all fades away as i rise, this time staring at the barely rotating ceiling fan in pa-pap's shitty kitchen. it's missing a blade. briefly i forget where i am but then recognize the aftertaste of pine, and recall my current situation. my job is done, so i leave as sleuthly as i came, grabbing the bowl of antacids from the kitchen table for solitaire colon games later. i'm going to walk the nine miles home.

album du jour: blonde redhead misery is a butterfly

my thoughts on wal-mart

it's a giant community-killer that cyphens the life out of local small businesses - pet stores (wal-mart now sells fish - live and frozen), grocers, etc. (we've all been to wal-mart, you can get underwear and liquor and fake plants all in the same place). while i disapprove of the wal-mart practice of undercutting smaller businesses and driving them under, and the whole illegal immigrant abuse thing, i'm poor and relegated to shopping there for now. but when i get a job, fuck you wal-mart.

lady friend came over last night and we discussed some things and decided that we're better off being friends. i am relieved.

album du jour: blonde redhead misery is a butterfly

my titles are sometimes way too random and/or way too obscure. sorry.

you're not that social, just a good drinker

yesterday while riding into town with my cousin there was a pretty bad traffic accident that made us about half an hour late for my appointment with my shrink, and i was thinking while waiting that being in line trying to get past an accident is like waiting in a line for some sort of exhibit. your reward for giving up your time is that you get to see some potentially real carnage and maybe even some raw human emotion. i'm not sadistic enough to say that i take great pleasure in the misfortunes of others (i would rarely actually wish such things on someone), but if it's there anyway then why not observe and feel a bit better that you're not that person? a traffic accident is also analagous to a pyramid scheme - if you get in early (see it right after it happened) you are rewarded with a scene, but if you're way back in line you may have to wait so long that all you get to see are skid marks.

as i said, i was late for my psychologist's appointment and really glad because of it. all he does is repeat right back to me whatever it is i say - no real insight there. he did give me a sample of some kind of artificial sweetener (how that topic came about i can't recall). three packets for a hundred bucks - not bad eh? there are several instances of these really awkward pauses where no one says a thing and i want to jump out the window or eat my own hand. i'm going to have to start coming up with material during the week to talk about so i'm not bored to death. i'd rather not go at all, but it's all to allay whatever it is my parents are thinking about me. maybe they should be in therapy.

album du jour: maxeen maxeen

look east young man

methinks i'm going to start working out in the morning instead of later in the day. it's not really morning. in the traditional sense i suppose it is. my sleeping pattern lately has been to crash around four in the afternoon and wake up at two a.m. so if i'm working out, say, at seven then really it's more like doing it in the afternoon (haha, i said "doing it". no more beavis and butt-head marathons for me on mtv2 saturday nights). except i almost feel like a normal person that gets up at the crack of whatever to exercise before heading off to work (robots!!!).

i should also cut the grass today. how wonderfully outdoorsy of me - i am such a man. my back even hurts.

album du jour: the rosebuds the rosebuds make out

what in the world 2

to be cursed with the title of elderberry-killer. it is a life sans compassion or love of any kind. there are only colors of black and red, and grey. my grandfather was a new low - never before had it been such a close relative. years ago i found a great uncle on the list, but he wasn't close, and i think he molested one of my second cousins at some point in the past. now that i think of it she always was a real cunt rag. maybe that explains it. nevertheless, spearing pa-pap in the gut ended up leaving my own stomach uneasy. i hurdled his now idle body and searched for the medicine cabinet. about the only benefit of this lifestyle was the bevy of booty at my disposal contained in most seniors' medicine cabinets. it almost made me look forward to old age. pa-pap, despite the respirator and wheel chair, was in surprisingly spry shape (excluding of course the two-foot steel rod penetrating his lower intestines). his stockpile consisted only of medamucil and some sort of generic multivitamins. angrily, i kicked his carcass en route to my secondary source. he had little else but pine sol under the sink. i made do.

album du jour: built to spill perfect from now on

bloody black laptop

my computer is giving me grief so i'm forced to wipe it out and start anew, which really is a good maintenance practice anyway. i've just been too lazy to go through the backup and restore process. plus i'm sure i'll forget to copy something, which make me nervous. but, what are you gonna do (so now i'm sounding like barbara streisand? what's up with that).

the cat has taken a shine to sleeping on my desk adjacent to my monitor. it's cute, but swiftly becoming annoying (what with the hair and floor crud near my laptop - probably not healthy). oh but look at that little punam, i couldn't make her move. pussy-whipped am i.

martha martha martha! bear in mind that a tossed salad means something entirely differen in the slammer (i mean the slam-her).

album du jour: ash 1977

a sadistic asshole i am

this new ph.d. counselor guy is pretty much a wall. a little while goes by and i forget that i'm not talking to myself. he has interesting waiting room material so i'll keep going. i would spend time in waiting rooms just for fun if i could get away with it, especially those of a psychological nature. i was thinking about acting out some nervous ticks in the company of other patients, or rambling to myself constantly in a very low voice. or do the jack nicholson "as good as it gets" floor crack evasion thing when walking, although that would only be useful getting to and from a seat.

the girl i've been seeing, as much as i do the typical "seeing" thing, has been cut off. specifically i can't say why, save for the fact that i felt like it. and usually i'm the polar opposite of a callous and mysterious person when it comes to relationship etiquette (i'm more often than not pretty open about things), but just not this time. a jackass thing to do, but there it is and here i am.

do i smell a sequel to the passion of the christ? possible titles:

the christ II: extreme resurrection
jesus and silent god strike back
crucifixion 2: die harder (includes pyrotechnics and cgi)
how jesus got his groove back

i'm only kidding religiosos.

album du jour: cave in antenna

what in the world

since my life lately hasn't provided much fodder for really quality blog matter i'm just going to start making up stuff in the style of a really trite novel.

he squeezed the trigger of the speargun, firing a piercing shot through the lower torso of his grandfather. the old man, unable to scream due to the respirator, slumped over and fell out of the antique wheel chair he loathed. he lay there motionless, save for the struggling rise and fall of his chest as he battled for air. the stagnant mutton joint he was gumming hourse earlier lay near him. the pet ferrett carried it away. young man walked to his grandfather and calmly whispered, "less filling, bizatch".

album du jour: moloko do you like my tight sweater?

cut me mick

lately i've had problems with inactivity and overeating that i can't seem to get over. more often than not i can get over these spuradic periods of sloth, but for some reason i haven't been able to of late. i was thinking about going to texas to stay with my parents until i lose about 50 pounds. kind of like rocky iv when he went to the ussr to train for his fight with dolph lundgren. my parents have a pool, lots of hills to run up, plus i could bring my chuck norris total gym (i'm a sucker for a.m. infomercials). then i could return to la in triumph wearing nothing but the american flag and a pair of black socks.

never say "back in the day"

album du jour: saint etienne sound of water

phizz on the aisle

i picked all the oscar winners. in the major categories anyway. i tried to watch it all but i fell asleep and dreamt that sofia coppola brought me to the oscars as her date and she won best director and i was there to congradulate her over and over again. then i had to cross the aisle and congradulate renee zellwegger a bit as well. i'm kind like that.