to california to texas witha belly full of whiskey

In twelve hours, I will be in an airplane. It will have been in the air for probably an hour. I will be trying to convince Bill to drink something silly with me. It will be like most thursdays.

We are going to Dallas, to hang out with my Dad and StepMom, to attend the impending slaughter of the packers by the cowboys (GO BEARS!), to drink lone star, to celebrate my stepmom's birthday, and thanksgiving, and christmas.

If you aren't doing anything tomorrow night, and you are lucky enough to get the nfl network, watch the game. We'll be sitting in section 101, seats 3,4,5 and 6. We might show up for field goals. We made shirts tonight. My parents get cowboy colors. Bill and mine are Orange and Blue. They say:

"Tank's Gun Club"

Go BEARS!

i put 25 years of living into 3 days.

Friday - up by 10, drinks by 11, lunch with whit, shots, beer, football, beer and pizza, shots, beer, shots, karaoke, shots, beer! bed by 3:30

Saturday - up by 6:45, yard sale, pizza, beer, brandy, beer, shots, hip hop, beer, shots, dancing, beer, shots, beer, party, more party, more dancing, more beer! bed by 3:00

Sunday - up by 8:45, little cleaning, mimosas, football, beer, pizza, BEARS!, beer, fries, beer, coffee with whiskey and kahlua, grilled cheese, football, beer, bed by 12:30.

My body is close to being recuperated. Of course I drank some beers and jager and watched football. I have today off, not from work, but from being awesome, and then it should all pick back up tomorrow.

The move is coming up pretty fast. Working on roommates or rooms and jobs and everything. Its going to be very exciting. I got about 5 weeks till I'm out of here.

I'm going to take a long shower. I might be filthy.

I put a bunch of pictures on the old flickr, from the party and florida.

check it - http://www.flickr.com/photos/iambooth/

a few songs for me on my birthday - mix

So I put together these songs because I like them a lot. I hope you enjoy them too.

Now I must go convince my roommates to do a sake bomb with me.


a few songs for me on my birthday - http://www.megaupload.com/?d=E7FHT467

The Disaster March - The Lawrence Arms
Love Story - Lagwagon
Anchor - Osker
You Must Be Willing - Against Me!
Hollywood Cemetery - Strike Anywhere
Little Dawn - Ted Leo & the Pharmacists
Fuck You Larry Koesche, I Hope You Starve And Die Someday - The Broadways
Your Child Is Dead - Off With Their Heads
Sun Belt Scars - Banner Pilot
A Song With No Words - Burning Airlines
jack of all trades - Hot Water Music
Always Have, Always Will - The Impossibles
Anchorless - Propagandhi
Broadway - Pteradon

five hours...

I should be at work. They are assholes. We all know this. Instead I am counting the minutes to midnight.

Lately I have taken to referring to my birthday as the end of my life.

It's funny, but not the case.

Things will only get more exciting and awesome.

I'll do my best to keep this place up to date the next couple days. Pictures, recaps, guest posts, whatever!

I'll be putting a mix tomorrow. I haven't decided what will be on it, but it will be good.

If you are bored you should make one too. Or send me something to put up here. Or do a shot in celebration.

Or hump a volkswagen...

the neverending battle of will and want

the want: a pile of my possessions in the desert catching fire.
the will: a dirty bedroom floor.

the want: a single-finger salute to my bosses.
the will: a reverse goatee.

the want: writing new songs and singing them in circles with friends.
the will: practice? are we talking about practice?

the want: a family dinner.
the will: fake chicken, plastic plates, dr pepper.

the want: more life moments from john cusack movies.
the will: more life moments from a bootlegged movie.

the want: more.
the will: less.

Pepper's Hates Beards

Saturday I was told to shave off my beard for work. That I couldn't have it anymore. The same beard I had when I was hired, and when I worked at the pepper's in sacramento, the same beard I had for almost the whole time I worked there. SO saturday they told me I had to get rid of it.

Right before my birthday.

Motherfuckers.

So this is what they get!

4 more days.

choose or loose

Does MTV still do that? I know they don't show videos anymore, and they cast maid of honors for reality weddings, and they continue to perpetuate stereotypes that lead to affluent white kids having shittily themed parties. (And I gladly leave my birthday plans out of that one. Seriously. How many of those bastard kids know about the five percent nation? That's what I thought. Besides, drinking a forty isn't ironic, its cheap.)

Now that is out of the way. Karaoke songs.

I have been trying to figure out what karaoke song would "do it for me". Its a good question. As mentioned previously, I am not super excited when a woman sings some sort of woman empowerment song. Not because I am anti-women's liberation. But because I don't want to hear a woman scorned singing a song by a woman scorned about being a woman scorned. Call me old fashioned.

When I karaoke, I like to sing songs by women. To some segment of the crowd it's shocking. Maybe. Probably not. But it opens the door to theatrics more than a korn song. Most songs by guys are warbly and screamy and growly, and I am not good at those things. I'm not even good at singing. It is easier to stumble through a song by a lady because my vocal gymnastics are limited.

So I think the criteria for a song that would do it for me would be this. Anthemic. Not too short. A breakdown. And by a member of the opposite sex. So if you really want to get me, you should probably brush up on your meatloaf. And if you want to get your shy friend to duet with you on "Paradise by the Dashboard Light", well, I might have to buy the two of you breakfast. ;)

whose excited for a quarter life crisis?

I am definitely. On the 16th, I will be aged 25. I am looking forward to it. Not as much as 27 and the whole return of saturn thing, but 25 will do for a year. I basically just wanted to show off the flyer I made for the festivities. If you're interested, show up!

my first sin was a young american girl

A couple of days ago Bill and I hung out. We got my money back on a car battery, we had lunch, we went shopping. Our shopping consisted of a single stop at a LEVI outlet. I bought some pants, some skinny jeans, something I have been enjoying lately. Bill bought some pants too. I knew the girl who rang up our purchases.

It was Kimmy Martinez. The first girl I ever kissed.

And by kissed, I mean kissed. Behind a church, after a youth church meeting; tongue, teeth and erections.

(For the longest time when I was making out, I was aroused. It still happens today. Some women inspire the hardest erections with the slightest touch. I am fourteen.)

So there she was, working part or full time at a retail establishment that saw less than 35 customers a day. And she looked the same, how I remembered her. Her body was slimmer, her face was the same. I caught her looking at me the way she periodically did back then; head down a little, eyes pushed up as high as possible, as if she was a librarian looking over her reading glasses. For a second I was thrown back to those days, being 14, knowing nothing about women, but wanting to know everything. I wondered what it would be like to kiss her now, but that thought soon left with the realization that it could never happen again, and it shouldn't.

See, she has a boyfriend, and a child, and what would appear to be a full time job. Her parents live in San Francisco, one brother is married, one is toiling away in a horrible band, at least the last I heard that was the case.

And me...

Some ways I am the same. Parents in different places. In some ways I am different. No children, no siblings, no significant other.

So we said goodbye. Said it was good to see each other. Said we hoped to see each other again.

And that was probably the biggest lie of them all.

For Hilly: of Scorpios and Blogging - MIX

Yesterday was Hilly's birthday. I didn't go have brunch with her. I didn't tell her I couldn't make it. I didn't send her an e-card. I didn't send her a real card. I didn't do anything to actually acknowledge it was her birthday. So here is a mix for her, on the occasion of being old enough to drink in bars. You're 21, right?

Sidenote. I don't watch Grey's Anatomy. Apparently one of these songs was on it. Whatever. Fuck TV. My friend told me about it and I think it's good. So there.

So celebrate Hilly's birthday with me. At 5:00pm pacific I will do a shot in her honor. You should too.

For Hilly: of Scorpios and Blogging - http://www.megaupload.com/?d=0W3WV5GY
The Navasink Banks - Gaslight Anthem
Secret Letters - Erin Tobey
For Esme - Jawbreaker
Modern Love - The Last Town Chorus
A Sunday - Jimmy Eat World
Wait At Milano - Tim Barry
Fear and Tera and Scarlet O'hara - Dan Padilla
Old College Try - The Mountain Goats
Overkill - Dashboard Confessional
The Temperature is Dropping - Defiance, Ohio
Uncorrected Proofs - The Weakerthans

why i grow a beard

for the same reason i...

• drink malt liquor from paper bags in my bedroom
• my throat is sore after I see my favorite bands
• don't vote
• rent a home with my friends while people I know are buying them
• can never find a bad time to put on a good record
• write songs and sing them without knowing how
• ride a bicycle in a tuxedo shirt
• am jealous of people who spend most of their year in a van and on other people's floors
• have a hard time making it through every work day
• cry at weddings
• tell my parents I love them
• don't answer email even though I have 100 different things I want to say

Friday is a day off, after one day on, after 8 off.

Even if I don't tell you, I love you.

our (almost)hero returns from abroad

I've been back in California a few days. Halloween came and went with much less then a mild yawn. Spending four days in a row seeing some of the best bands ever, drinking some of the best beer and singing and shouting with some of your best friends will make you forget about halloween.


So, about this announcement. Yes, I decided where I am moving to. I am very excited. Very. Excited. I'm looking forward to not driving and going to more shows and not slanging peppers' margaritas and hopefully sitting next to a fire place.

Chicago, here I come.

My expected departure date from California is December 23rd. Mark your calenders.

I am walking to the liquor store. We will speak again soon.

on fires, death, and unpopular music - mix

I have 4 or so hours of work tonight, then it is officially vacation. I'll be getting a ride to the airport in the morning from my good friend Gabe, and we should be getting to see some fire action. If I couldn't use the 40 bucks I'd make at work tonight I wouldn't even go. I have my clothes spread out on my bed like tomorrow is the first day of school. My cold is almost gone. Things are going to be getting awesome way soon.

I still can't check in online for flights. I'm on one of those lists. I wish they would tell you why you made the "make sure its them and not someone else before they get on the plane" list. An employee once gave me the paper that had the number to call to try to get off the list, she told me it doesn't usually work, so whatever, fuckem.

This mix is kind of about the fires, kind of about my life, kind of about the passing of Lance Hahn of J Church, and kind of about the fest I am going to. We are going to be seeing a few of these bands, and we will probably miss a couple too. I might have computer access while I'm there, so if it happens expect some pictures and updates. If not, you'll get it all when I come back. So enjoy and have a great week, I will.

As always, pray for turbulence!

On Fires, Death, and Unpopular Music - Mix - http://www.megaupload.com/?d=KQPE2L4L

Trains All Talk - Small Brown Bike
Visiting Day - Dead To Me
The Light From Your Window - Bottle Rocket
Books About Miles Davis - The Ergs!
Do You Pray - Chuck Ragan
Rock For Sustainable Capitalism - Propagandhi
November - J Church
Bad Intentions - Broadway Calls
Into Your Eyes - Lucero
Hard To Admit - Off With Their Heads
No Surrender - One Reason
On Tracks Beneath the Snow - The Riot Before
Dead and Broken - Alkaline Trio
'Dozer Rage - Latterman

just come see me again when it burns.

California is on fire.

I can walk outside and look south probably 30-40 miles and see some flames on top of hill. That sentence sounds more exciting or dramatic than it could ever be. I usually enjoy a good fire. I see all the smoke, the sky is red, i can smell it, sometimes there is ash in the air. But not today, not the last couple of days.

Before my senior year in high school I read a collection of short stories by Joan Didion. One of them spoke of fire and "the santa anas", winds that nontraditional go out towards the ocean. (That's probably not the best description, I'd apologize if it mattered.) Those winds are one of the few things giving the firefighters so much trouble out here. And me too.

With the normal wind all the smoke and fires would be blown my direction.

So instead of sitting outside in what has become a quiet night at the house I am laying around listening to every song in my itunes folder that has "smoke" "fire" "burn" or "flame" in the title. It is 4 hours long. I am also battling a cold that needs to hit the road before I hit the road on wednesday. A few hours ago I almost choked on a cough drop and realized no one would probably found my body for a few days and the cat would try to eat some of me and I got really depressed for about 5 minutes. But then I realized that someone would put my myspace profile on deadspace and everything was ok.

A few years ago california was getting fucked by fires. Santa Clarita was getting it pretty good. We had ash at our house, the way I like it. A group of friends went down to the big LA and saw some bands play. The "14" was closed so we had to take windy mountain roads to get there. There was ash in hollywood, the way I like it. The band Smoke of Fire (from Richmond, VA) was here and they wrote this song about it. The video is at the top.

I'm thinking a mix should be in order for tomorrow. Maybe a fest mix. Maybe a fire mix. Probably both.

If I burn up, I'll figure out a way to tell you.

its time for a wedding

Tomorrow there is a wedding. People will be sharing memories of the participants before they ever met, and how much they have changed since. There will be children undoubtably making noises at inappropriate times. Whit will be drinking. So will I. And I will be playing DJ.

I need to come up with a song for the money dance. It should be long and slow, to achieve maximum currency collection. Stairway to heaven maybe?

Anyways. I have a couple nights of slinging drinks and setting up trays of food, then I am flying to Florida. I'm going to spend almost a week watching a hundred bands and drinking a million beers. And hopefully I'll see the Atlantic for the first time in my life.


When I get back I'll tell you where I'm moving.

phil muthafuckin collins

Phil Collins watched a man drown, right? Actually, I'm pretty sure he didn't. I just needed a title...

I've never seen anyone drown. I've seen some people almost drown. I've almost drown myself. Not intentionally. I'm just not very skilled in the art of floating.

But I think I am watching a friend or two drown, figuratively.

Someone is spending most nights in a home that doesn't want them as much as they don't want it. I can see it in their eyes. Arms flailing in a see of money, family and youthful ambition.

Someone has a hard time saying what they are feeling, if there is anything left there anymore. I can see them running and running, talking out of both sides of their mouths, being torn in 7 directions of happiness, and getting none.

Someone is burning their bridges and turning off the porch lights. The inside lights are off too. No one is home, they don't want you to know they wished you still showed up unannounced.

Someone struggles with loyalty to people with faces and names to loyalty to faceless names.

Me?

I'm a little bit of all of them.

who wants tea?

I was going to blog the other night. Instead there was an impromptu whip undie party. Enjoy.

the royal we

I dated this girl for 5 years. We did a lot of things together. You know, went places, watched bands, etc. I've noticed lately that when I talk about some of the trips or bands or restaurants I still say "We" even though we aren't together anymore, she isn't present for the conversation and she lives in another state. It is strange.

Rush?

So there is this gentlemen who likes to talk on the radio and express sentiments I don't agree with. He is a bastard. I knew people who got his newsletter. I knew people who watched his television show. Most of them were closet racists. Apparently he said something about phony soldiers that if you missed it is hard to find in context. Also, from what I read, there are a bunch of cunts in ties authoring legislation to condemn said fat bastard. Don't get me wrong, I don't use cunt gender specifically. If you are a cunt, you are a cunt, male or female, sorry. If the cunt fits...

Anyways.

There seem to be a group of people who make decisions, or lack thereof, in our country who would rather spend their time creating glorified extra large going away cards for a piece of shit who spreads his subtly racist rhetoric to a group of people who spend most of their time in cars then actually do anything in terms of making the U.S. a better place to live.

I know, I know, the United States is the best place to live in the world. I'm just saying.

So you have a man with a microphone, and he talks shit, into the car stereos of people who, if they could, would dress and act like Michael Douglas in "Falling Down" every Friday instead of wearing Tommy Bahama shirts. And then there are a group of people, who are are about as effective as abstinence education, holding press conferences about how horrible this bastard is and how he never served in the military and he doesn't support the troops and blah blah blah.

This is a guess based on some quick research - combining the house and senate, about 29% of them spent time in the military...

All of this gets pretty redundant at this point. You have people who didn't/don't support troops or the idea of serving accusing people of not supporting troops or the idea of serving.

Let's be honest, they are all assholes, and they don't give a fuck about you or me.

You know how I know?

Every year from 1995 to 2005 there was somewhere between a 2% and 3% raise for members of our government.

LOOK.

It must be pretty rad to make 160,000 bucks every year. And it must be awesome to get a raise every year, especially when it is 4000 dollars. Or about that, sorry. When was the last time you got that sort of raise?

Fuck Mr. Limbaugh. Fuck Mr Distinguished Gentlemen from Wherever. And Fuck us, because we are fucked.

Shots anyone?

Every chance we get

I spent the evening at a bar full of karaoke. Some friends of mine were supposed to meet another friend or two of mine there, but they didn't show, and we had a good time. Some women were celebrating either a co-worker or a friends birthday. Some men had brought their other halves out for the evening. Some people came out looking for love, some came out looking something that would feel better than the love they have. I came looking for more drinks and maybe a song.

Science journals and science teachers around the country probably say things about people's true character when they are alone. I challenge them to not make the same assumptions at a bar filled with karaoke. Don't get me wrong, many a folk do their best to impress the crowd. Some succeeded, most fail. But really, the person that you would hope to be comes out at karaoke. You may lean more in the area of shy than normal, or not. You may lean more in the area of gospel than normal, or not. You may care more than normal, or not. The perfect you shows up to sing that song, and the perfect audience, in some cases, shows up to sing along.

Karaoke has almost exclusively been involved in the times in my life when I have been single. Why? Ask Freud. It might be like a peacock showing it's feathers, or it might be like a camel showing it's ability to spit. Do I hope my karaoke skills would catch someone who would appreciate every minor crack in my surface? No. And would I want to fall in love with someone who would sing "You Ought To Know" to tens of strangers? No. But would it be cute to be a touring karaoke team that hops from bar to bar to bar to bar for cash prizes? Not really. But it is better than sitting around your house for the fifth night in the row? Sometimes.

What it comes down to is this. Go karaoke. Go with an open mind, and an open heart. Sing the songs that made you feel young when you were young. Sings the songs that you wished made you feel young. Just fucking sing.