the omniscient narrator has a drink

Tuesday night I sat in a bar with Bill in a booth removed from the main action of the evening. There was some interesting sexual power plays going on between some friends and acquaintances. There was a moment where the tension got kicked up more than a few notches. The type of situation where your body gets really hot and you have a thin layer of sweat that just jumps off of your skin. It can be scary/exciting when it is you. Like when you get caught in a lie, or kiss comes from nowhere, or when Grossman drops back to pass. It is an entirely different feeling when you aren't involved any more than a spectator and it hits you.

Bill and I both said the same thing when this person walked in the door, "I just got really hot!"

About a half hour later a disaster was averted when there was a near miss of awkwardness by timing of arrivals done to the second. It was like watching a movie.

It made me think about how much a second or two puts us in some many different situations in our lives. It is exciting to me to say the least.

**note: picture is not from the other night, but a year and a half ago. same bar, used for reference.

wordless wednesday

http://www.wordlesswednesday.com/

...In this pond, some rise, some sink.

I realized I'm becoming something I am not. I mean, yes, I am a little whiny (i.e. uno, dos), but that's from living with Atticus, that's not my fault.

I'm getting back to my roots, the thing passed on through the generations of Booth's that have come before me and carried the name with such passion.

I am drinking a forty in the middle of the afternoon, shirtless.

Happy Blackout Tuesday!

What happens in bed stays in bed

I am not going to get out of bed until this is finished.

I haven't been much of a dreamer since I was about 17. Not the sleep time dreams, my teeth fall out while I am stuck in a never ending fall in the middle of Las Vegas at least twice a night, but more the John Lennon type. I don't dream of grandiose changes to the psyche of the American public. I don't hope for the perfect mate to fall out of the bar stool next to me. I try not to make any plans, because I usually sabotage them before the get to pressing. I don't want to be anything.

To an extent, if I want something to happen, I make it happen. But for every night of singalongs around a table of beer I have two nights of working. I know, necessary evil, right? Fuck that. No evil is necessary. If we don't want to do something, we shouldn't. We all make compromises, and I am ok with some of mine, I just don't to be defined by my compromises, or my failures.

It has been said that the Antelope Valley has a large magnetic pull, which not only keeps the meth-heads here, but also pulls back in most long term residents should they happen to move away. It's happened twice for me, once from San Diego and once from Sacramento. I've also been in various stages of planning to move to Ventura, Colorado Springs, Chicago and Minneapolis (the last one is just in my head, which is probably where it will stay).

And all of that ties in with my lack of dreams. My lack of ambition. All of my desire is wrapped up in mostly booze, some making out, and a little music. I can make those three things happen. I can't make anything else work.

I am safe.

the loosing of friends (that's for you, bobb)

Last night was cosmo night. It was Girly Drink Night 2 (the first being mojito's, even though Whit thinks those are "dude beach drinks" or something silly like that). As with every night I ended up pretty drunk. The participants of Girly Drink Night 2 (read: my friends) sat around our new patio furniture drinking and talking and enjoying each others company. Which reads me to this:

Technology is killing honest interaction.

Yup. Myspace, Cell Phones, Email, Television, The Holy Trinity, Watermelon Pucker and Instant Messaging. They be slaying foo's.

Technology hasn't help me make any friends. Acquaintances at best. Actually, it has probably ruined more friendships than anything else. Sneaky text messaging, missed call logs, lost voice mail messages, "I'm away" status, purgatory, Kamikaze's and Tivo are making my interactions with people harder and harder.

I think I am not very demanding in social situations. Stiff drinks, good conversations and a place to sit. But all this technology seems to be getting in the way. We are creating these persona's that don't actually exist. We are slimmer, fatter, taller, shorter, sexier, more disgusting, smarter, dumber, and either more or less exciting.

And honestly, I don't really care. Two hours ago I was searching the Internet to try and find a girl I met last night so that I could hang out with her. WHY? Probably to try to get laid. But that's always the case. We are all really working towards sex, either with that person or one of that person's friends. Gabe and I came to the realization that a lot of the "ladies" we have been hanging out with (or in some cases trying to hang out with) have no actual interest in us. And to be completely truthful, we don't have much interest in them actual. It's all a stupid game. And technology is making that game easier and more complicated.

I guess that was my point all along.

Whenever I think of sex/dating/love/sweaty palms I think of my favorite scene from the Cameron Crowe film Singles. Thanks to IMDB we get an exact quote:

David Bailey: Tonight I'll be the super me.
Steve Dunne: What if the super you meets the super her and the super her rejects the super you?
David Bailey: Then it's no problem.
Steve Dunne: Uh-huh. Why?
David Bailey: Because it was never you, it was just an act. I live my life like a French movie, Steve.

So true.

somenights i thirst for real blood

So, about this business of staying up to see the sunrise. I was slinging margarita's at "Pepper's" and my roommates were doing sake bombs. I get home from work, 12:30ish, and the bastards are asleep. So I watch some heroes, I go to the celibate girl's house to drink beer on the shortest driveway in west Lancaster and watch a movie. She burned the popcorn, I almost stabbed her. Anyways, I get home at about 5, and everyone is still asleep. The sky is a nice begining morning blue and the animals are out in fullforce with their barking and chirping and crowing and honking (some cars were up too). So I went walking in the desert with my camera.

I am standing in the desert and I realized two things.

I should not be there. Everything I have ever been taught by people with more education or life experiance or money tells me that I should not be standing drunk and alone in a desert as the sunrises on a friday morning. I should be sleeping or getting ready for work. I should have finished school. I should be making a family. And I am doing none of it. Amongst my friends there is always talk of anarchy and practical application of it and blahblahblah. For those twenty minutes this morning I was doing it. I was alive. I was experiancing "space" in a new way.


I am impatiant. I stood there, alive, and between my breaths all I could think was that the sun was taking too long. I had things to do, or beds to crawl into, or something else. Nothing important, nothing meaningful, nothing as beautiful or exciting as what I was doing.

I didn't want it to end, but I couldn't wait for it to be finished.

(almost)

I accidentally stayed up untill almost six o'clock in the morning. I almost saw the sunrise. I came close. I stood in the same spot in the desert next to my house for almost five minutes. I felt my heart beat. I heard bird's chirping. I almost laid down and went to sleep in the desert. I will do that in my bed now. More on this to come.

it's not so much the doom but rather the impending part that keeps me up

I realized last night that I am pretty bad with first impressions. Not the ones I give, but the ones I get. I am usually loud/drunk/honest enough when I first meet people for them to know exactly what they are getting into. Sometimes I can be a little shy, but usually melts away fairly fast. I'm just not a very good judge of character.

That's wrong.

I am a pretty good judge of character, but a poor judge of personality. I'll meet you and fairly quickly know if I would loan you money or tell you how to get to my house or if I'd be a reference on an application. I seem to gloss over (or not pay any attention to) the personality traits that within the next few interactions jump out and surprise the shit out of me. For example:

Me: "I agree, you should take him home with you"
Person: "I'm celibate"
Me: "Your celibate!"

See? Oh, you don't? Let me explain.

It was a sunday night in a bar. The person was an underage girl. She had a shirt/dress from the set of Laugh-In and cowboy boots. No underage girl in a bar on a sunday night is celibate. Especially if she's in cowboy boots. It didn't occur to me that she might be crazy.

But she was. And she is. And I want to hang out with her.

Yeah, I know. Bill and I thought she stole the cookie sheet from our house. You don't accuse people of that sort of thing unless its possible. And I still want to hang out with her.

I hope I don't, but if I do, I deserve whatever happens.

A Booth and his money will soon be parted.

That's how that saying goes, right?

it has been a week

I have a good week of the assorted activities. Details and pictures to follow on some.

• Pedicure (yes those are my anti-authoritave toes up there)
• Mojito's (again)
• Drive-In Movies
• Moving Car Makeouts
• Lions
• Walks
• Stolen Signs
• New Furniture
• A Little Work
• Naked Threesome Proposals
• Marcile
• Lostwood
• Dan's House
• Heroes
  

Let's hope to more blogging and more of all the other shit too.

desert porno

Myself and Bill walked down the street to get pizza today. Said street has nice desert on both sides of the street. While we were walking we see a cd on the ground. We pick it up, porno! Another one, porno! A third, PORNO! It was an ultimate porno treasure chest. Bill said "Man, times don't change, do they? When you were a kid, did you ever walk through the desert and find a old faded penthouse or hustler? It's still the same, but its DVD!" (quote probably not exact). Sure your town may have a music scene, or arts, or good public transportation, or a small percentage of meth labs and child abusers, but mine has desert porno, BEAT THAT!

things i learned from my mother

in no particular order...

• girls are evil (actually, this is number one, everything after is in no order)
• anything done indoors/outdoors is better with music being played extremely loud
• living rooms are for dancing
• bike rides are always nice
• always gamble on your birthday
• its good to cry
• titanium is for legs too!
• you are only as crazy as you let yourself to be
• forgiveness is possible
• cards are not just for major holidays
• you have to stay happy

My mom doesn't read my blog, or probably even know about it, but she is super important to me. I love you mom.

pre-work blues

I've started this post four different times today. Once when I first woke up. Once when I got back from eating lunch. Once after waking up from a nap. And now. So far this one has the most promise.

about time i started making things fun around here

This is the new window. I like it. Buttons likes it too. I catch him sitting on the sill (?) whenthe window is open. It is pretty impressive, there isn't much room there and he's getting fatter by the day.
Why am I up at 1:30 putting widgets on my blog? And why am I not drunk? Well, as reported earlier I woke up sleeping on the living room floor. The spur kicked my ass last night, and I don't even think I was there for 30 minutes. Maybe I got ghb'd or ruphied. Or maybe I mixed beer, tequila, and whiskey with very little food. It doesn't really matter.
I was supposed to work this morning, I didn't, but that tree is dying anyways. Instead I took a shower, put on the same clothes as yesterday, did laundry and threw up in the laundry mat parking lot. It was probably from the booze, might have been being in the same room as a tv beaming out Oprah and Dr Phil for the first time in months.
So I stayed home, missing out on an awesome Matt Skiba/Chuck Ragan show in Hollywood, but advancing ever further in my new addiction, SUPER PAPER MARIO. I watched some hockey, I watched some basketball, I was disappointed in both loosing teams.
Now I am finishing downloading new episodes of Degrassi the Next Generation and adding a much needed actual post.
I'm going to try to take some pictures this weekend. I'll put them up on my flickr page.
Sleep well.

someday i'll be a soccer coach

Somewhere between strawberry margarita's served by a plumber at El Toreo Far West and waking up on the floor in the living room Kirien turned me onto this show Home Movies. This clip is as close as I have ever been to looking into a mirror in the future. It makes me smile.

from the floor of my new room

I am very excited. I moved into a new house. I sleep in the smallest room. I picked it because I wanted to be able to look out my window at the front yard and street and passing life instead of the neighbor's yard. I'll take a picture and update more soon, but in the mean time I am going to listen to tom waits and look out my window.

i guess thats what happens when you drink too much

Here are the results of the booze census. Well, most of them. I only wrote down the first couple days. I hope my memory is as good as it used to be.

MONDAY

• 3 Curveballs (pryamid seasonal beer)
• 3 Bud Lights (bottles)
  
• 1 Jager Shot

TUESDAY

• 3 Strawberry Margaritas
• 1 Fat Tire (16oz draft)
• 1 Gordon Biersch Marzen (bottle)
• 1 Pabst Blue Ribbon (can)
• 2 Bud Lights (16oz cans)
• 1 Red Headed Slut
• 1 Bud LIght (bottle)

WEDNESDAY

• 4 Bud Lights (Bottles)

THURSDAY

• 1 Full Sail (bottle)
• 3 Budweisers (24oz cans)
• 3 screwdrivers

FRIDAY

• 1 Tire Bite(?) (bottle)
• 1 Negro Modelo (bottle)
• 2 Sake Bombs
• 1 Sapporo (glass)
• 1 Cabo Wabo shot

SATURDAY

• 1 Fat Tire (32oz draft)
• 2 Bud Lights (32oz draft)
• 1 Mickey's (40oz bottle)

SUNDAY

• 3 Buschs (Can)
• 2 Jager shots
• 1 Gin Gimlet

I should be dead. There were two birthdays and two shows this week, so that should account for some of it, right?

as the hair goes, so goes the nation

There is an epidemic. It's raging. It has reared it's head and taken from us. It has taken the form of blades, scissors, razors, and clippers. Haircuts, EVERYWHERE! Gabe, myself, Whit, Robby, Danny, and probably you. Beards are even falling victim. beware.

the great booze census, 2007

I was trying to figure out an activity to do while I do what I do best, drink, and I decied to keep a written log of all that I drink over the next 7 days. In high school we did it with food, so I will do it with booze. I'm gonna get a tiny little pocket sized notebook thing and keep track of everything I drink from today, Monday to Sunday. I will post the results and pictures and fun here in one week.

is that a hernia in your pocket or are you happy to see me?

So, I live with Whit. And Tricia. And their two kids. It is a cozy little arrangement and I love it. So thursday the youngest put a tinker toy in the toilet and Whit flushed it. No big deal, did a little plunging, everything was fine. But the next time I went to the bathroom I had to plunge too. With that in mind I skip my usual pre-shower shit and go about my routine getting ready to work. On my way to Chili's I tell myself "No big deal Anthony, just shit when you get there. It will be slow." I was right, it was slow. About 2 1/2 hours into my shift I get the most intense stomach pain I have ever had in my life. Not a slow build, but an all out ninja-sneak-attack on my insides. But not my insides, it feels like a knife is getting shoved through my belly button. I go into disaster mode, ITS A HERNIA!!!!! IN MY BELLY BUTTON!!!! NO INSURANCE!!!!! I'M FUCKED!!!!! I tell the manager I am dying, I get someone to stay and close for me, I tell everyone I work with I have a hernia, I start thinking what good organs I have left to sell to cover the operation. Then glorious Whit asks me about the poopoo situation. I HAD FORGOTTEN TO SHIT! I do it, I feel a little better. I leave work, get some generic gas-x, poop a little more, and OH GLORIOUS DAY! No hernia for me.

I was thinking about it, and I think I did actually have a hernia, but when I verbalized having a hernia it healed itself. Usually when I talk about something great/horrible out loud it doesn't happen. I might be right on this one. Or I might not.

thursday night's alright for fighting

I live across the street from a wonderful drinking establishment called THE SILVER SPUR. It's a place of glory previously unknown to me. There are spankings by spatula, an occasional opportunity to wash glasses for beer, and more often then not breasts. Last night none of those things happened, at least that I saw. Last night there was a fight. If you listened to the participants afterwards there were chariots and bears and flaming honeydew melons and Rasputin rose from that water grave to help the mob secure victory! But as an biased bystander, with part of the story, it goes like this: Guy 1 gets mouthy, Lady 1 tries to throw him out, Guy1 comes back in, Guy 1 kicks Lady 1 in the back, then runs outside Guys 2-9 run out after him, I mosey out to watch, Guy 1 is on the ground, Guy 1 is up, Guy 1 takes off his belt, Guy 3 kicks him 3 times, 2 times falling on his ass, Guy 1 runs down the street, I go inside. Everything else is here say from that point on, but I am pretty sure I saw Guy 1's belt in possession of Guy 4, like a trophy. In honor of the fight I went to the jukebox and with the help of Tony put together a quick mix. The whole point of this story is to show you the mix. Our table appreciated it. Everyone else was to busy patting Rasputin on the back.

• Street Fighting Man - The Rolling Stones
• Mama Said Knock You Out - LL Cool J
• Hurricane - Bob Dylan
• Fight the Power - Public Enemy

Realizing today we should have put Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting on there. Next time.

We were perfect when we started...

Whit brought it to my attention in the dining room today I haven't updated in a week. A bunch of fun stuff happened, so we'll start with this and move on.

This saturday (April 14th) was the wedding. I didn't take many pictures, but I did take this one of the first dance of my cousin Amber and her new husband Ryan. I got to meet the family, see my parents, I danced a little too. I ended up going stag, which was fine. There were no white drugs, no sex in bathrooms, no knocked over tables, nothing more embarrassing than an average night out with me. It was just the way it was supposed to be. Now don't get me wrong, there were shots with my dad and a dozen or so free beers and the requisite hitting on taken women, but not on the Katrina level that was predicted. There is definitely something that runs in a Booth's blood that makes for quite the party participant. The youngest of the 3 cousins was the maid of honor and well on her way to vegas drunk before the food was even served. My aunt was running around trying to round up single girls to introduce to me. It was exquisite.

More to come.

I can party, it's the blogging that is suspect

I am always looking for new opportunities to get Vegas Drunk in places that are not Vegas, so in that pursuit I will be attending the LA Blogger Party with Whit. It should be very exciting for all parties involved. I will be wearing a short skirt and no panites.

in case of rapture

As a child, many of my days were spent going to school; a private, non-denominational, although attached to a baptist church, christian school. Actually, every day of education from when I had my own nap pad to a diploma were spent there. We can talk about what it did to me as a person another time. One thing it did hook me up with was a fear of the rapture. Now that fear has pretty much left my mind now, but when I was kid it was in full effect, especially the first couple of years in high school. If there was non-school day when I didn't hang out with anyone, and I called a couple of friends and they weren't home, I would immediately start worrying the rapture had happened. Everyone got picked up and I missed the boat. I had my own rapture test though. His name was Dustin Schramm. If I thought the rapture had gone down without me I would call the one person I was friends with who I knew would have been picked up. If he was home, good, no rapture, I was safe. If he wasn't I would go to my second source, CNN.

Needless to say the rapture didn't happen any of those times I did.

The point was yesterday felt like a rapture day. Not that I thought anyone had been raptured, I don't think many of my friends would fall into that boat at this point in our lives, but that after I got off work I couldn't get a hold of anyone. So instead of tracking down Dustin Schramm I went home and drank a beer. Then I went to bed.

A small part of me still wondered though.

Each time you turn a corner, you are right back to where you were

I read a book over the last couple of days. Life After God by Douglas Coupland. I broke a tooth in half eating a salad. I remember hearing about existential crisis (<---definately my head right now) when taking a class and reading The Stranger by Camus. The book reading and the tooth breaking have put me in full crisis mode. The pain from the tooth is minor. I don't even miss it. I don't trust my body, and it doesn't trust/like me. We have an understanding. Maybe. But minutes after the tooth breaking I realized that I had to figure out a way to do something with my half tooth still in my mouth. I could leave it and embrace my future as quality Antelope Valley resident, or I could go to a dentist and spend money I don't have to reach some sort of healthier alternative. So I have that going for me. I keep going over and over in my head how I am going to take care of this and at the same time I finish reading this book. I'm fucked, mentally. I flip-flop from walking out of the house getting in my car and never coming back, taking the 300 bucks and hole in my mouth to a new place or falling in line. Going to college, getting a career, buying a car, buying a house, getting married, having kids, smoking cigars, hanging myself. I woke up with a brand new exciting stomach pain. It must be the ultimate me trying to get out, ripping my insides to pieces in the process. I have never hated myself so much before. I have never been happier. I am going to the dentist.

vegas drunk

I was reading a book that talked about stages of drunk. For me, my maximum drunk is vegas drunk. Vegas drunk only occurs in vegas, hence the name. Untill last night.

Let's set the scene. Tortilla-less breakfast burrito for breakfast. Dinner salad and french fries for lunch. 2 large draft Guiness. 1 Brandy & Soda. 1 Corona. Soy Beans. Sake Bomb. Sake Bomb. Sake Bomb. Sake Shot. Sapporo. Sapporo. Sake Bomb. Sake Bomb. Sapporo.

BOOM!

VEGAS DRUNK.

I never really know I am vegas drunk untill I fall asleep. Not in a bed. Usually at a table (see above). I don't think I slept at table last night. I did dance on a chair and almost fall onto the table a couple of times. I remember the waiter with the headset saying "Anthony, be careful. Dont fall on the table." But I don't think I slept. Not till we got in the car. And everyone else got out and went to a strip club. And I slept.

Vegas drunk is good. The best thing about it is the bloody marys in the morning. But there are no bloody marys this morning. I just need a ride to my car.

in the business they call this a "booth-date"

*a booth-date is an update on a booth, particularly myself.

It's time for a list again. Here we go:

• That map is the route I will someday take to Minneapolis. I don't know when, I don't know for how long, but it has been decided that I must go.
• Soy-Taco is a wonderful tasty treat.
• Black Out Tuesdays have now spread to include MuthaFuckinMondays and Where's my pants? Wednesdays. A 3 day holiday drinking festival that sometimes includes a Surprise Sunday. My liver should be moving out before I make it Minneapolis.
• I have regained my faith in Red Bull and Vodka.
• I am becoming a cheaper date by the day.
• Most of my friendships are getting stronger, some are falling apart, a couple are gone forever.
• I have a filthy mind and a filthier mouth.
• I spend more time outside.

crosses on calendars - mix

I've been putting this mix together for a couple of days, trying to find familiar stuff and new/different stuff to make it cozy enough but interesting enough that it makes it through more than one listen. I made it not so much for a friend, but with a friend in mind. I wasn't going to put it up, just burn it and give it away, but my landlord (and pal) whit put up some post about seven songs on saturday and I thought "perfect, I have mix!" This one makes me pretty happy, it turned out well and is more suited towards late night driving listening than early morning jogging listening. Now I must get back to the outdoors and my beer. Enjoy.

Crosses on Calendars - http://www.megaupload.com/?d=YO137BKZ

• Running To Stand Still - U2
• Jaws Theme Swimming - Brand New
  
• Outro In No Minor - The Anniversary
  
• Trees Get Wheeled Away - Bright Eyes
  
• I Keep A Diary - Braid
  
• Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels) - The Arcade Fire
  
• Untitled - Against Me!
  
• Summer In The City - Regina Spektor
  
• Ships - The Weight
  
• Anybody Wanna Take Me Home - Ryan Adams
  
• Mexico - Samiam
  
• Rusted Wheel - Silversun Pickups
  
• Calendar Girl - The Stars
  

the disco before the breakdown

The name of this blog, both of them, come from a song on an Against Me! ep called "The Disco Before the Breakdown". Something about that thing hasn't hit home so much as it has today. I'm drinking water and coffee, trying to shake the booze from my head from last night. I'm putting off showering before going to work. I am checking my outbox/outgoing phone calls. I'm trying to remember last night, and the last time it was this hard to remember. I told my friend Kierin I am a walking bonfire. I think I might be right. I'm not sure if I am at the disco or the breakdown. I'll keep you posted.

pray for cambria

In less than a month, I will be attending a wedding in Cambria. Weddings are fun, I like to cry at them. It is for my half-cousin (she is a full person, just half booth blood) who I have never met. I haven't met any of my half-family (see previous parenthetical statement). This makes me excited because I like to meet new people. Now here is where things get interesting. My dad and stepmom are flying out from Texas. At christmas we (myself and my ex) told them that we would go, so they booked a double room/suite/townhome/thing to stay at. Well now I am still going. I told my dad a couple weeks ago that I was going to bring a date. No problem. I talked to him last week, and he made sure that I was still coming and was bringing a date. I told him yes, but that things had changed from date to platonic friends and that we were still going to go together and just hang out and fun. No Problem. So 2 days ago I get a call from him to tell me that my half-aunt told him that there going to be some single girls at the wedding (my half-cousins, all 3 of them, are within 2 years of my age in either direction). No Problem. Then later I get a message from him saying he wanted to talk about how I was getting there. Strange, because it had been discussed everytime that I and whoever was going with me were going to drive up the day of the wedding.

Yesterday he called me and told me my stepmom wasn't comfortable with someone she hadn't met staying in the same room.

WHAT!

It was fine when it was my girlfriend and there was the possibility of them waking up to us bumping uglies. And It was fine when it wasn't my girlfriend with the same possibilities. But now that it's platonic it's not ok??!?!?!

From the same woman who was "doing" my dad in our house while he was still married to my mom (who coincidentally was "doing" someone else too, but just not in our house)? The same woman who the first time I met was crying on the front porch at 2 in the morning asking to come in and see my dad? Yes, the SAME woman.

What does that say about her faith in my choice in friends/women? What does that say about what she thinks about me?

The idea was thrown out that me and my friend tim go to the wedding instead. Tim and me, both single, at a wedding, probably a worse idea than my platonic friend coming with me.

What this brings me to is this: Pray for Cambria. I am PISSED! So this wedding is going to get me on overdrive. I'll still wear my long sleave shirt (as requested by every person alive who will be there who's paid more into social security than me) and I'll still shake hands and be polite, but as soon as the I DO'S are DONE, so is cambria. Sleaves will be rolled up. Drinks will be drank. Drugs will be done. A whirlwind of booth is going to go through that reception, and those people will never see me again.

I'm thinking of wearing the suit the principal from the breakfast club wore so I can say "you mess with the bull and you get the horns" and mean it.

sleep

...makes you realize that the night before was good. Sometimes you have to be away from it to figure it all out.

i came to see you up there in intensive care

i told whit today if i had a stroke while watching basketball to let me die. i couldn't afford to go to the hospital.

i was right.

i can't afford anything. i don't want to.

i had an afternoon/evening that was short on substance and long on everything else.

joni mitchell was right, but she couldn't see the forest for the trees.

i must sleep, alone and comfortably.

a mine gutted of it's contents

I sat in an empty house, ate a burrito and watch a movie. The Last Kiss. At some point in the movie everyone was in an empty house, by either decisions of others or their own. I identified with them. I remember when I moved out of this house on avenue M, when it was empty of all of it's contents, it felt like I had never been there before. And it felt like I had always been there and belonged nowhere else. That house had a lot of windows. I am beging to think my happiness has a large correlation to the size/amount of windows where I am living.

There were a few arguments among the characters in the movie. And I couldn't help to think about how most of the time no one understands our decisions or motivations for them. We are all there, at one end of the conversation, trying to explain ourselves, knowing that the other person can't/won't understand. And we all end up on the otherside too. If we could just remember what it is like from one side to the other, life would be better.

last one out of liberty city, burn it to the ground

Right around the time I started drving, I began listening to a lot of Less Than Jake. All the time. I hated Lancaster, I was not enjoying the demise of my parents marriage, and I wanted to move away. Today I was listening to "Hello Rockview" and all those feelings came flooding back. Or rather memories of those feelings. And some of them are still true, and some are long dead. And it is making me feel like I sold out, or am about to, the next chance I get. I don't like it. I guess I'll just have to give away some soup.

who's that lady who won the boston marathon and only ran a mile?

I went jogging today. First time I have been running for the sake of running since I could grow facial hair. Being that I'm a "punk-rocker" I put on my running shoes, which are also my dancing shoes, and my ass kicking shoes, and my wedding reception shoes, and my... well you get. I have work shoes and non work shoes. (I would only have one pair of shoes if I wouldn't slip all over the place at work) So I put on my van slip-ons, my black dickies, my irreverent t-shirt, grabbed my ipod, a bottle of water, went to a park and started jogging. I did all right. My first mishap was I set my ipod to 25 most played, and apparently I am a drunk with a taste for sad alt-country songs. Not the best soundtrack for physical activity. Maybe I should as seen it as an omen, because my second mishap was just around the corner. We (being me and my jogging partner (yeah, i had a partner, the only thing I do alone is shower and drink)) would jog some then walk then jog then repeat. It was working all right till I decided to puke. There was a lot, so much so I didn't know where it all came from. I felt like I was on SNL and I was in a puke sketch. It was one of the most satisfying vomits of my life.

things you realize at 3:49 in the morning

• sleeping might help you stay alive, i might lead you to missing life
• mid-day waitresses at breakfast restaurants should not be your proofreader
• the purchase of gift(s) for people who know they are getting them, and fail to mention said gift when you see them next, was an ill-concived purchase
• when you think nothing good can come from zoni's, you are right
• never accept a third/fourth party invitation
• always drink free beer
• when you think you will see someone in a bed later, find the nearest sucker, bet him, reap rewards, repeat
• if you leave a building, and you feel you should be stopped, and you're not, you were never wanted to begin with, and you should never go back.
• the surest way to go somewhere again is to say you'll never go back
• if two people say the same thing about someone they have very little personal knowledge of, it's probably right
• but don't believe them till it breaks your heart
• the squeeky wheel gets the grease, especially if you are that wheel, and you are the third/fifth
• when you least expect it, tangled up in blue by bob dylan will make too much sense
• letter writing is a lost art, and there are reasons why our arts are lost
• as soon as you put down in writing you have yourself figured out, the people who you think deserve to know prove that you were just as nieve and boring as you were before.
• 3:49 alone is better than 3:49 betrayed, even if the person didn't know they betrayed you
• i'll make the same mistakes tomorrow
  

i was as fast as carl lewis, on fire

This guy got me. At one point I was standing, then I was laying on the ground, on the other side of the fire. And my hand was bleeding. I thought I had cut it. This morning I found out it was a burn. I didn't know, I've never been on fire before.

Last night at about 9 I baptized myself in the ocean. It wasn't cold, it was perfect. I mean, it was frezzing, but I didn't notice so much. I call it a baptism because it was, an outward gesture reflecting an inner change. It makes me happy.

I am sitting at home now, and I feel really nervous. Actually, I havent eaten since early this morning, so it's probably that. I've got an idea that will cure both.

swimming in the ocean at sunset - mix

Today myself and some members of the DBC are going to do a quick beach camping trip. In honor of the occasion I put together a quick 9 song mix. Enjoy!

swimming in the ocean at sunset

• All Sown Up - Lucero
• Sink Florida Sink - Against Me!
• Boatless Booze Cruise - The Lawrence Arms
• A Perfect Sonnet - Bright Eyes
• In Your Wake - Matt Skiba
• The Desperation's Gone - NOFX
• See America Right - The Mountain Goats
• You Might Be Right - Avail
• Dead End Roads - One Reason
  

we all hide a diary beneath some mattress

I have been accused of thinking that everything is a matter of life and death. And I have been accused that I feel life has to be dramatic and over the top. And I have been accused of holding on to a romantic notion of life that doesn't actually exist.

They were right every time.

I sat around and talked and drank with dan and bill last night, and in somethings they said I realized that all of those things are true about me. And that I like it. We talked about how experiencing pain is better than not experiencing anything at all. How, no matter how quickly it is come to or how wrong it may be, having an opinion about something is better than not. It can be hard to rely on yourself for your happiness, and it can be hard to find happiness in others, but it's doable. As much as I enjoy spending time with friends, sometimes nothing feels so good as lonely walk in a grocery store.

I thought I had a reason for all of this, but I think it's just for me.

I'm going shopping.

the tyranny of lakes

I spent a couple days at this lake a few months ago, on the occasion of a friends wedding. It was a great weekend with new experiances, rebonded friendships, sunsets. I am reminded of it almost everyday. There is a picture of my "roommates" kissing in front of the lake next to the couch. There are random pictures of people I know posing in front of the lake and/or dancing floating around the internet. There are pictures saved on my computer. And I come across these and remember. That's the case this morning. The trip was 4-5 months ago, far enough away to view it with some perspective but not too far off where you only remember the good stuff. There were the same old fights, brand new laughs (49,50 bagels?!?!), and more than likely, conversations that will never happen again. I woke up early one of the mornings and went for a walk around the chalet's and cabins, my legs burning from the hills/usual lack of excersize. I hadn't been on a walk in a long time. I've done more walking since.

contents might contain song about marrying a cat

Despite the feline community's apparent hatred of all things travel, I still enjoy a good song about inter-species marriage. The initial setup for this mix was the idea that someone else would have made it for me. I have done that before, but it is interesting to see what songs you think would get to you now that wouldn't get to you before. Somewhere along the way I ditched that idea just to throw something together as a soundtrack to the weekend I hope I end up having. I'm going to work a bunch, travel a little, and probably drink in quantity somewhere between those two. Come monday morning I hope it worked. If not, I'll still smile. I'm including the tracklist so you know what your getting into this time.

Have a good weekend.

Anthony

Para Todos!

• Water Manes At The Block's End - Latterman
• None of the Above - The Weakerthans
• Please Come Home - Dustin Kensrue
• Cat Heaven - Jets To Brazil
• The Ramblin' Boys of Pleasure - The Lawrence Arms
• Samson - Regina Spektor
• So I Fall - Small Brown Bike
• Chemistry - Jawbreaker
• Old Dead Tree - Defiance, Ohio
• Glasshouse Tarot - Sparta
• All Night Long - Lifetime
• New Amsterdam - Elvis Costello & The Attractions
• I Know It's Ture But I'm Sorry To Say - Violent Femmes
  

mr chandler, grocery shopper

Parallel universes exist, and they are somewhere on aisle 12 next to the nail clippers and eye lash curlers. Let me explain.

If you know about my new window, then you know I recently settled down in a new location. One of the things that comes with moving, in addition to trips to the dump and celebratory/sorrowful shots, is shopping at a new grocery store. There is a Vons next to the new location of my bank, and there is another one on the route I take to work. They are about 5 miles apart. Yesterday I shopped at the Vons on the way to work for some Jagermeister and baby thing, neither one for me, fortunately and unfortunately. I browsed a lot and made my purchase. Today I went to the Vons by my bank for some fruit (thanks Dan!), water, and stuff for veggie burritos. It was like shopping at the other Vons, but it was different. The workers looked very similar, but here they were older and plumper. Things were in the same relative area, some same aisles even, but flipped. I would remember seeing something yesterday, went to where I thought it should be, and it wouldn't be there. But if I turned around, there it was. It was a very strange day at the grocery store, and if you don't believe me, well, I forgot to buy beer. That isn't like me a all.

Here's the title explanation. I shop at Vons because of location(s) and that club card thing. At one of the previous residences where I still have keys, a roommate of mine applied for a club card. She used the phone number for the house, which was already attached to an account from the previous house I lived in. (Apparently I also collect phone numbers.) So now when I shop I put in my old phone number to save the cash. When the checker hands me the receipt, they look at the bottom, see her name, assume I must be her husband (what a poor judge of character these checkers are. Most of my purchases are of the alcoholic nature and I could be married? Well, it (didn't) work for my parents, so anything is possible.). Then they make this face, because usually they just checked my driver's license to make sure I am old enough to buy the things I buy, and my name is not "Mr Chandler", but they give in and say "Have a good day, Mr Chandler".

Strange times at the store indeed.

the thing that drove away the rain

picture this. i wake up, there is no sound of children, it's raining. it's beautiful. whit is sitting at the dining room table. he tells me that he made a quick little rainy day mix, and i said what a great idea, i am going to do it too. so i sit at my computer and stop putting it together. it stops raining. so here are 11 songs to listen to while it's raining, or while it's not. whatever.

no more rain

have a nice day

the happiest days of your life

After waking up from a night of hanging out with sergio, which, to the un-initiated, usually involves way too many drinks, I decided I am going to make a short list of some of the things that make me happy. In no particular order:

• any time i am able to do an exagerated fist pump while singing along to music, either live or over a stereo
• taking blurry pictures
• wearing a tie when i don't/not supposed to
• being the passenger on silent car rides, both happy and sad
• being the driver on loud car rides
• playing songs for the people they are about, preferably outside
• explaning to total strangers that i have a tattoo on my arm because it's what john wilkes booth said after he killed lincoln. that and their faces when i say it
• crying at weddings
• getting choked up in a situation that shouldn't make me choked up and trying to play it off
• unexpected phone calls/emails/messages
• this

have a good day.

10thousandth of a second and everything that is wrong with america

Here we are. 2007. Information is exchanged in time that we cant even comprehend, not even in NBA terms. I ask the computer: "How many times did france fall?" and I learn that in in world war 2 there was a battle called the battle of france, and it was also called the fall of france. and it was May 10th. That's only six days from May 16th, which is that great Lagwagon song about everything you have ever lived, right? Just another saturday, right? And at this point it all ties together. Another saturday, or thursday night, or friday morning, what is the difference really? 10 thousandth of a second to say "yes" or "no" or "because of everything that has ever happened, from the stairs as a child to everything i said to my friends last night". maybe the towers fail us. maybe they failed us years ago. because, you know, as they say, since 9/11 it's been hard. maybe not for me. or maybe not any different. so how do you spend your nights now? post -9/11, post adolescence, post opinion, post sacrifice, post anything that might have a built in reason? well, let's be honest. you wait around for an answer to a question that was the response to a statement about something that you honestly meant. and if you haven't learned anything yet, tonight you might learn that honesty isn't always the best policy. or you'll learn to keep your mouth shut. or you'll learn that as long as you do what keeps your heart honest, you'll be ok, even if not tonight, while you loose to a buzzer beater that took longer than it took for you to fall in love for the first time.

happy v-day, neither one of us won

Happy Valentine's Day (and happy birthday to my mom and other fortunate souls to be born today). I will be celebrating with booze, and with that in mind I put together a mix to be the soundtrack of my day. 14 songs, some happy and some sad. The above picture is from postsecret. It helped in song selection. So, whether you plan on having a good day, a bad day, or a little of both, listen to this mix, think of me, and raise a glass. We should meet at some point.

happy v-day neither one of us won

rain meat and cat piss

short and sweet. i left two houses today. they were miles apart. it was raining both times. i also decided to give up meat. an impromto but heart felt dedication to bobb. the white cat in this house, who i think is named norman, just pissed in my suitcase. good luck if he gets anything to eat from me now, bastard.

Keys they complicate my life.

As a child I collected keys. I had a key ring with all sorts of different keys on it. I think I had every second key to every door/padlock/chest/drawer in my childhood home. We moved out when I was seventeen, and I threw all those keys away. I started a new collection soon after that. A couple of car keys, a couple house keys, a key to a lockbox, a nice small set. Just like the collection it soon grew to include mailbox keys, townhome keys, keys for a couple houses, for my room, for the garage, for my second room, for a door that never got used. When I moved out of that house, the glorious house on Avenue M in Lancaster, I got rid of all those keys. This is the point of origin for my current collection of keys, my most impressive to date. In chronilogical order: 3 truck keys, 2 lostwood house keys, 2 sacramento house keys, 1 gas cap key, 1 j-14 house key, 1 bike lock key, 1 texas house key, 1 storage unit key, 2 whit's house keys. That's where I stand now. I really enjoy having all these keys in my pocket. I think it has something to do with all these available safe havens, or that I am trustworthy enough to be trusted with keys, or it might just be that I like having keys that I never use.

Resurection February!

it's been a smidgen of time, hasn't it? hopefully everyone is doing well. i have a new window to look out and a new view looking back at me (see above). This place (blog, not space i look out window from) should be getting pretty cozy and well worn soon enough. Come back tomorrow, you'll be glad you did.

this place is dead

but in it's place, something new


Drunken Bicycle

go!

for the two people who bug me about it (and the other couple who mention it in passing)

-or-
somethings you do for money and somethings you do for love

a quick update with no real explanation of my abscence:
my days are filled with cans/bottles of beer, writing songs and singing them, a tasty little band called the mountain goats, and until recently a mouse.

my dad is moving to texas at the end of the month. on or around august 1st I will become the relative i have in the antelope valley. no parents, no cousins, no uncles, nothing. it's like a reverse moving away. it will be strange, but it will also free me of that famial(?) tie, so i could possibibly hit the road whenever i wanted.

i enjoy the shit out of high fidelity. it resonates. which is really a shitty thing to say. anyways. sometimes i feel like the john cusack character in the movie. mainly only the part where he says something about having one foot out the door, not commiting, that stuff. i have a bunch of "disaster" backup plans in my head. im throughly preparred from everything to being paralyzed to loosing an arm to the house burning down to allison leaving me for foreign language teacher to wwecw becoming good.

maybe a new layout in a day or two

booth is a band

That's right! I finally got all my shit together and finished my first album (album by quantity, ep by length). Download it and spread it all around and give it to bums on the corner. Drunken Bicycle will be putting out a proper release with a booklet and shit, but till then this little zip file will do the trick. thanks for your time.

Booth! - Memory
http://www.megaupload.com/?d=Y80TWOZ8

like a crack in a wall

At this point in my life I am stuck between doing things the way an "adult" would do them and the way a "child" would do them. One of the many things that attracted me to the ideas of both Punk and DIY (not the tv channel, sorry) is the immediacy of solving a problem. No good music in your town? Start a band! No one speaking for you? Speak for Yourself! No one housing art? Put up a gallery in your living room! I have always equated those to things (punk and diy) with a childish way of thinking. I mean that as the highest compliment. Children dont seem to be so caught up in how something should be done, they just want it done. A tree branch in the way of doing something you want to do? Do you track down a saw (borrow or buy?) and a ladder some goggles and develop a plan? Or do you just grab the fucker and break it? You want to put out a record of your songs. Do you play a bunch of local shows, then pay money to play shows in hollywood in hopes of meeting someone interested in possibly putting it out? Or do you record it and release it yourself? Just because a bunch of people are doing something one way doesnt mean you cant do it a different way and still be succesful, or, rather, as succesful as you want to be. Everyday we get older and we compromise a little piece of what made childhood so magical untill is all gone and all we have left is a career and no friends. I think the kids have figred something out, I hope I don't forget it.

The Incredible Ham Radio Network of Panhandlers

NP: Get Up Kids - Red Letter Day

I'm not exactly sure how they did it, but it happend, but it did. I have always been pretty good about giving money to homeless people/panhandlers/gutter punks. While I lived in Sacramento I had more disposable income, so I gave a little more often. It also turned out that there was more homeless people/etc. in Sacramento. So this went on for a few months, and now I'm back in Lancaster, and its the same down here. Im pretty sure there aren't more "beggers" down here then there were when I left. What I think happened was at one of the monthly meetings of "The Intercoastal Panhandlers Union" (IPU) one of the board members brought up my name and the fact that I was moving back to the Antelope Valley, and they made a unanimous decision to faxtelegraph/ham radio my name and description to the local chapter of IPU in the AV. Now they all know about me and the change is flying right out of my pockets. Here's to the panhandlers!

veggie delight of death or the real difference between northern and southern california is how much i wear my hat

I've been putting this off for no good reason. I decided to put it off no longer. I am back in Southern California, and I am glad to be back. I miss a couple people in Sacramento, a couple places, and a dog, but not anything enough that I would go back. Im still writing songs, and I am actually playing them for people down here, which is a good step in the right direction. It's nice to see allison every day and its good to see all the other wonderfriends on a regular basis. I had a good bbq the other day with whit and trish and atticus and zane. Tonight should be a beer night. If there was a brick wall in this blog, this is where it would be, and I would have just ran right into it.

This one's gonna get a little rough.

Well, I warned you.

Fuck you for posting and reposting and reposting that shitty bulletin about boycotting Exxon Mobil to lower gas prices. Fuck me for continuing to buy gas and not ride my bike. And Fuck All Of Us for thinking this is how everything has to be.

First the bulletin. I'm sure if you are reading this, you've seen it, an email forward or a bulletin about how some guy who used to work for coke and his Halliburton friend figured out a way to take the gas prices back for the people. I hate to say it, but if you think some asshole from coca-cola (a former executive no less) and his dipshit Halliburton friend give a shit about us and how much we have to pay for gas, then I hope you have no retirement when your older, because you are an idiot. The idea is that if Mobil Exxon isn’t selling any gas, well, they HAVE to lower prices, because they have to make money. That makes sense, right? This is the same company that owns all Exxon stations, all Mobil stations, all On-The-Run convenience stores, sells Mobil brand oil for automobiles and crazy other accessories, Esso (a world wide brand I guess) and that wonderful speedpass technology. Us not buying gas from them DOES NOT AFFECT THEIR BUSINESS.
The bulletin also says " Since we all rely on our cars, we can't just stop buying gas". This kills me two ways, but will stick with the easy one first.

We still have to buy gas, but from who? Shell? Chevron? 76? AM/PM? Mom & Pop's no name gasoline? Those are our main choices, lets look at something from FORBES magazine:

from the issue GLOBAL 2000: THE BIGGEST COMPANIES IN THE WORLD (I'm shaking already)

Rankings, Highest to Lowest
6 - Exxon/Mobil - Exxon, Mobil, etc.
7 - Royal Dutch/Shell Group - Shell, etc.
8 - BP (British Petroleum) AM/PM, BP, etc.
16 - Chevron - Chevron, duh!
22 - ConnocoPhillips - 76, Phillips 66, etc.

We are talking TENS of BILLIONS and HUNDREDS of BILLONS of U.S. Dollars in sales, profits and assets in 2005!

Sorry if I don’t expect not giving money to the 6^th largest company in the world but giving it to the 7^th to actually do anything but make my ass hurt every time I pump gas.

Oh Yeah! I forgot Mom and Pop stores.

From The California Energy Commission’s Web Site, page entitled: QUESTIONS & ANSWERS: California Gasoline Price Increases

Does a free market really exist with gasoline? It seems all the gasoline stations sell at the same price.

This is untrue. There are differences between stations and prices. Some stations have lower prices because they typically do not take credit cards - they take only cash or ATM cards. Credit cards can add about two to three percent to the cost of the transaction. This extra cost is passed on to the customer in higher prices at the pump for the convenience of using a credit card. Other stations, such as independents and so-called "Mom and Pop" stations usually have lower prices because they do not have multi-million dollar advertising campaigns to convince you to buy their product. So, their prices usually are lower than the "name brand" stations.

The independents and non-branded stations buy gasoline usually on what's called the unbranded "spot" market. This is the wholesale market that is most vulnerable to refinery problems and the fluctuating cost of crude oil. The price is normally lower than the branded wholesale prices. But we can have unbranded prices soar higher than branded prices when the supplies get tight. So, the independents and "Mom and Pop" stations sometimes will have to price their gasoline higher than branded stations.

I’m not going to explain that one, it seems pretty easy to me.

A little reading, a little research and I feel much better about myself… but do I?

NO!

I refer back to the “Since we rely on our cars, we can’t just stop buying gas”

WRONG!

We can actually stop buying gas. And stop paying car insurance. And stop paying for repairs on things we don’t understand and can’t do ourselves. We can stop driving.

Why not? It’s inconvenient. Well, it’s inconvenient for me to spend a hundred bucks a month on gas, but I do it, without a second thought. I know people who spend less, and I bet a whole lot of people spend more.

What all this information/thought/analysis/swearing comes down to is that I hate buying gas, and I hate that I don’t do anything about it. The easiest thing for me to do is stop buying it. To stop driving all together. I will be healthier. I will be happier. And damnit it if I won’t have an extra hundred bucks every month. Or I might have to work even less. That’s more time for my family, my friends, and to ride my bike.

So find a new job, one closer to home, ride your bike there and keep the money you save to buy a homeless person a bike, or give it to the government, or buy a bigger purse, whatever. Just realize that we can actually fit the solution to high gas prices between our legs.

anthony's alphabatized party!

so bill did this one time, and i didnt have itunes, becasue my computer was old, but now i have it, so i did it. basically you alphabatize your songs and pick the first of each letter.

A A-Word Pnihead Circus

B Baboon The Mountain Goats

C Calendar Girl The Stars

D D's Car Jam & Anxious Mo-Fo Minutemen

E Each Coming Night Iron & Wine

F Fa-Fa-Fa-Fa-Fa (Sad Song) Otis Redding

G Gainsville in August - Gunmoll

H Hair Raising Accounts of Ghosts Modern Life is War

I I Bad Brains

J J'amais Carrie Nations

K Keep the Hurt at Bay - Moneybrother

L Labor Day The Dead Milkman

M Ma Jolie Bear Vs. Shark

N Nagasaki is Yesterday's Dog-End '84 - Crass

O O'Rourke's, 1:20 A.M. The Good Life

P Padded Cell Black Flag

Q Q. How Many Punks Does it Take to Change a Lightbulb? Dillinger Four

R R.O.A.D.A.D. This Bike is A Pipe Bomb

S s.k.i.n.h.e.a.d - MDC

T T.S.R. (This Shit Rules) Against Me!

U Ugly Violent Femmes

V Va Donc Chier The Sainte Catherines

W Waiting for the End of the World Elvis Costello

X Xmas Eve Born Against

Y Y'all Don't Wanna Step To Dis Against Me!

Z Zing Pong None More Black

not really representative of songs i like a bunch, but thats ok. against me! is the only repeat, and me and bill both have TSR for out T's YEA!

you should do it now too.

I gave up on me too.

so last summer some people that i know (bill, kierin, dan, myself) we're chatting it up on a message board, posting silly pictures and comics, planning parties, and best of all, putting up mixes. i miss that shit, so starting today, and continuing every friday untill i forget to do it, i'm going to put together a mix and upload it to the neither regions of the internet. so here you go


4.21.06 - We Don't Have Many Days Left Together

Suggested Reading - On Subbing by Dave Roche & Chapters One and Two of The Catcher in the Rye by JD Salinger

Suggested Drinking - Two 32's of Miller High Life and a shot of Jameson

About "We Don't Have Many Days Left Together"
Just a collection of some stuff I have been listening to lately. Thanks to Dan for help on cock sparrer and reminding me about "Dragged Back In" Big ups to Bill for mentioning Drag tthe River some night I was way drunk and wasn't able to remember it till this week.

How to Listen to "We Don't Have Many Days Left Together"
Connect to a very loud stereo. Use an ipod, a cd you burned of it, your computer, whatever. Open one Miller High Life. DANCE! Take a shot during the Bandits of the Acoustic Revolution. Open a second High Life. Dance some more! Go outside, ride a bike, then kiss your mom.

http://www.megaupload.com/?d=2I5F8TD8 - We Don't Have Many Days Left Together

Have a great Weekend- Booth!

It's a struggle

So I made a little playlist today. It made me happy. Then I see Whit put up a suggestion of things to listen to, so I thought, "I could put up my playlist for today". I did.

your nose is bleeding

conversation had with me last night : well, I don't know why I have them (condoms), I don't use them, I mean, I'm on birth control, but I'd be in major trouble if I got pregnant, I'd kill myself if I got pregnant, well, not me, just the baby.

Pure hilarity. Thats all I got. More tonight.

If I Blog About Reno, Does That Make Me Dirty?

So, the other day I drove two hours , by myself, through rain , sleet, snow, and hail, to the "wonderful" city that is Reno, NV. I felt like the Post Office. (not the Postal service, I was too happy to be them.) Since I had driven the two hours, and I had conviced myself the weather was only going to get worse, (and i didn't have chains, chains are to expensive! I felt like i was buying a grill.) I stayed the night! And where did I stay? No where else but the casino named after a kitchen instrument, the PEPPERMILL! I had been there before, the summer of 2002, so it was a homecoming of sorts.That is my kick ass room. Yeah, I have two beds, what are you going to do, sleep in one? THATS RIGHT! Even though I told the desk guy that it was just me (after he politely declined my credit card. It might have been the first time he said "your credit card was declined" and someone said "yeah, I know". Good old paypal debit card.) But said gentlemen still gave me TWO room keys and TWO beds. Apparently he wanted to meet a platonic friend that evening. Strange man.
That is the wonderful view from my room. Second floor, right by the elevator, BEAUTIFUL! (if you were able to look to the left there would be an empty pack of marlboro reds and a door. It was strange) So I realize that I have not mentioned the reasoons for this trip to reno. If you dont have a reason to be in reno, you might as well mainline some heroin, because your life is over. I was there for the first night of the latest Alkaline Trio tour. Old songs, good times, blah blah blah, if you really care about the circumstances go to punknews.orgWell the opening band, and the only band to play besides Alkaline Trio was AGAINST ME! <-- That's thier ! not mine. They were wonderful as always, and got me that fun, "i need to be in a band" choked up a couple times, and I love them, FOR-EV-ER! That is Matt Skiba in a funny hat. All was forgiven because they played goddamnit from start to finish and a bunch of other good songs too. No 97, but no night can be perfect right? I had myself a good time at the show, but I have to say this about "Reno Punx": what have you done with your lives? The show wasn't sold out, and I have a very good feeling that 10% of the crowd had heard eternal cowboy by against me!, let alone anything BEFORE that. It was a nice upswing to the 25% of the crowd that had actually listened to goddamnit before, but fucking christ kids, come on! How can Burn get the best reaction out of all the songs played? (the only song played off of the new album, unless that shitty song about having a bad time at one of dans parties is on that album too, i block that song out) They played San Francisco, you dumb motherfuckers! I saw them close a show with SANFRANCISCO, after they played RADIO. I hate you reno, I hate you tons! All that bitching aside, the bands were good, the sound was good, and when I talked to Warren from against me! before they played he was nice, as always.So after that I went to the 7-11 by my casino. (technically it is a hotel to, but it is so much cooler to say "my casino" than "my hotel") I bought that wonderful six pack of budlight while talking to bill on the phone. I drank that, talked to lawley, (who is in europe, that dumb cunt!(just kidding, she's not dumb! wink!)) and went and gambled. Texas Tea? It's for bitches! Shake your BOOTY? Its for BOOTH! I did all right, won some money and fell asleep to sportscenter. A perfect ending to a wonderful evening! I drove home the next day, shitty weather, I survived.

The moral to this story is that Reno reminds me of what fremont st in vegas was probably like in 1992, and the punks there are lazy. I hope none of my friends decide to get married in Reno, because it would take a lot to not miss their wedding. I would consider paying the wedding chapel fees difference so they could get married in vegas. Dont get any ideas Bill, you portablepoptartloving bastard!

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.***