my beer bottle says I've been naughty

I have been infinately more creative since I have moved up here, which has been fantastic. I am becoming comfortable with my own capabilities and realizing that my own limitations do not mean that I shouldn't do something. That and I have been listening to the specials and born against, so fuck you!

mess with the beard, you get the fuzz

At some point in my adolescense I remember hearing that girls who are anorexic and don't have enough body fat to keep themselves warm develop a bunch of those "baby hairs" to help them from dying. So I thought to myself, "I bet if I was anorexic I would have a better beard!" I'm hoping my logic isn't flawed on this one, I'm only eating one meal a day, a very tiny meal at that, starting tomorrow. GO BEARD!

hirst day of spring cleaning

blah blah blah first day of spring. One of my many goals of moving up here was that when I left I would have half as many things in my truck. I'm looking at the shit in my room and I am stuck as to what to get rid of. More than half my clothes will be gone, try to get it down to one trash bag. And that's where I'm at. It rained most of the day, which is HORIBLE, but it did leave a nice double rainbow. It was "complete" in that i could see both touch the ground at both ends. Pretty sure that is the first one of those I have seen. I got a microphone today, it doesn't want to work, so I get to try to Make it work tomorrow. As for this thing, I am just rambling about my day with no reason. Good day sir.

this is where the magic happens

ahhhhhhh, it's been a while, no? things on this part of town are rainy, still, or again, or always, whatever you prefer. Apparently I got my photoblog deleted, and I think it is because I photoshoped a dick onto a picture of amanda. I got my own computer, and it remindes me of my valiant, sometimes it takes a couple tries to get it running, and sometimes it stops for no reason, but when its working, it is a BEAUTY! thank you to bill and bill's dad, the two best pinkels in the world. I started downloading every band that i can think of, and so far my favorite new thing is MONEYBROTHER. I guess it's some dude who used to sing in a punk band who now does great soul/funk/rock stuff. You should all go buy or steal either album, blood panic or to die alone. im almost through the first one, and it will kill you, ok? OK! thats about all I got in me tonight, but tomorrow is a new day, right?

a second attempt : Tom Gabel and Carmelo Anthony - Same Shit Different Day

Ahhhhh, that elusive street-cred. Tonight, as part of my post-work evening, I watched an episode of Outside the Lines. From it I learned something interesting: Crusty Punks and Basketball Players both struggle with selling out. Now, don't act surprised. At no time did ESPN mention any crust punks, or anything remotely related to crust punks, so they are safe, for now. If you didn't get a chance to watch it here's the meat: Carmelo Anthony came from a super poor neighborhood in Baltimore, and he goes back to visit. On one such visit he hangs out on a corner (?!?) with some "childhood friend" and a camera crew shows up. Now, being Carmelo Anthony, 'Melo, and showing that he is truly worth all the endorsement deals (RADIOSHACK? are you fucking kidding?), he smiles and giggles. All fun and games, right? NO! His friend is talking about how snitches get stiches, or someother ridiculous street thing about police informants (am I for police informants? not so much, but that's not the deal). Well this video surfaces on an underground DVD and suddenly 'Melo wants you dead if you talk to cops (not exactly). The state tries to get him to come out on a pro-snitching DVD he doesn't do it, and that's about it. So funny thing, Melo is trying to retain his street cred, trying to connect to the people on the streets, trying to keep it real, all the while being RICH AS SHIT! And that is where I realized that all my favorite punk bands are really just good college basketball players. And instead of being happy as shit that they "make the big time" and sign to majors and make some money (like the poor folks of his neighborhood were (or at least that's how they were in my head)) us MIDDLE to UPPER MIDDLE CLASS kids get on our computers and bitch about how they sold out! Well FUCK THAT! I'm going to take a lesson from the poor folks and BE HAPPY!(at least now the dirty clothes and shitty beard might make sense) To AGAINST ME!, may you make tons of money and get a shoe deal... wait...

all kidding aside, it's alright with me, someday I'm going to get paid a lot of money to do what I love too.

fuck you blogger

i had a great post drawing parallels between carmelo anthony, tom gabel, selling out and street cred all ready to go. then i took whit's advice and tried to spell check it. GONE! I am holding whit personally responsible, both for my lost post and my horrible spelling/grammer. I'm going to bed, I will try again in the morning.

I work with the Picture of Dorian Gray

Up here in the great N.C. I work with a particular bartender, nameless at this point, two or three times a week. I never see her outside of work. Sometimes she comes in a few minutes early, in "street clothes", and changes in the bathroom. When I started I thought to myself "WOW, she looks like this girl from Lancaster". When Allison came to visit I told her, she didnt see it much. The strange thing about the bartender is that every shift I see her, she becomes less and less attractive. Not in the "I am getting to know this person and there is nothing good about them besides their butt" way but in the purely physical culturally decided standards of beauty. It is like she is falling apart, one day at a time. Her thighs are getting bigger, her hair stringier, she might even be getting slower. I hope she doesn't have a serious disease (minor disease-ok with me!)

Did you know Wkipedia has a sort of death tracker? I tells you by month and date who has passed away this year. It tells the name, age, something notable, and sometimes how they died. I was going to start this blog fifteen minutes ago, but I got sidetracked on this wonderful plot of cyberland. My favorite part was seeing how people died. A comic illustrator fell from a seven story building. No Joke. I also figured out I only care about dead people in my age range. I scanned the list looking just at age. If I saw a 1_ 2_ or 3_ I stopped and read their sentence. I know the thirtys were a bit of a stretch, but there aren't a hell of a lot of people dying in their 10's with enough recognition to get a spot on Wikipedia. When I die, I hope they put my name on this list.

My fingers are getting pretty tender from playing more guitar. I am working on my "album" more every day and I hope to be getting some things in the 10001010101010111 area this month. Then I am going to tackle the hard stuff, writing my own music. It might be ok. I got one line for a song so far - "These colors will not change, you change the way I see them" Good, HUH?


***Editor's Note - Song lyrics are not by Mr Booth, but rather from the NEW HAWTHORNE HEIGHTS ALBUM. Sorry for the confusion.***