mediocrity gets you pears.

So Bristol Palin, proud mother and daughter of Sarah Palin will be featured on the upcoming season of Dancing With the Stars. Joining her will be reality tv douche "The Situation." Hah. Apparently, he's getting a cool $5 million or something like that. But after all, he is a celebrity...eh, maybe the American public needs to redefine the words "star" and "celebrity." He is less of a [real] celebrity than Kim Kardashian. I'd rather see coked-out Paris Hilton dancing on live television. I'm thinking twat-slip = ratings?


In other news, the "war" in Iraq is "over."


and I'm already working on new Carload of Thieves material, in my head at least. I've got many ideas and I'll be experimenting with new sounds and instruments.


School tomorrow. New work schedule. SIGH.

sanctions.

laying belly up on the basketball courts,
the bug parade was never ending.

we discussed war and pointed out the train's echo,
how it called out to suburbia late at night.

the pool's light illuminated the park,and these courts
surrounded by sleeping homes
(and restlessness).

what a way to end the summer.
it was truly beautiful.

i saw water.

tonight I finally bonded with [the band] Tigers Jaw. it's great when such feelings can arise from just listening to a certain band, randomly, on a certain random night. it's a greater feeling to know that doing such a thing as "bonding" with a band is possible, and really quite frankly, awesome when it happens.

it's aurally pleasing as well as mind-easing.

quiet.

did you know that we could make sounds?

I confide in pages
to outlive time.

This week flew by my face. Thursday night already, with the weekend emerging out of deep sleep. I cannot believe it's already close to the end of August. Summer's slipping into a coma, and fast. Come to think of it, the past three hundred and sixty five fucking days have speed-walked through the cracks.

Well at least it was a successful day, musically. And as stated just seconds earlier, the weekend is approaching. I can smile. We can all smile now.

oh, albert!

black lungs.

she smelled like an ashtray at a truck stop off the garden state that hasn't been emptied for 60 years and has just been piling up cigarettes and cigarettes and cigarettes and ash. every time she spoke and/or exhaled my eyes burned. i wish i was kidding, for her sake anyway. my eyes must have mistaken my work setting for a late night bar, i'll tell you that much.

bless that woman's heart.

...and lungs.

start something.

the thought of taking orders from a yellow scrap of metal with 3 colored lights within seems a bit odd to me.

running, jumping, standing still.

so, one day of wiffle ball (with stick ball rules - not even a real game!) and my entire body is fucking sore. i'm in the worst shape of my life. i reached my physical prime when i was ten. seriously, i can''t swing a fucking bat without being sore for the next day or three. then softball last night. killer game. and yet again, i woke up feeling like an 80-year-old world war two veteran with shot knees, a droopy Achilles and a beaten rib cage. someone get me a hemorrhoid tube to sit on all week. i'll return it, no worries.

i told myself today that once i'm not sore anymore, i'll take up running again. i think it's something i just need to do. i don't want to be sore like this after some pussy physical activity each and every time (and last year after the annual softball game, i was). and i'm afraid i'll wake up from a night of fucking and be sore...oh wait.

and in conclusion, after so long without wearing sneakers, they make you feel like you're walking on clouds. man, i'm fucked.

musicbrain.

Night Three of Insomnia

My brain is a music box of sorts. But now I wish it had an off switch. I've been trying to sleep but just can't. Whether it's a band I've been listening to lately or a new song I've been working on; it's being composing in my mind.

This may sound crazy but the songs in my head keep me up at night.

Also, why do I find the need to scratch my mosquito bites until they bleed down my leg or until my arm is crimson?

take lots with alcohol.

Damn, this song is great.
I wish I could take credit for it.