Sponge Bob Hemp Pants

What up blog readers? You know I'm starting to feel unloved, no one ever seems to comment. Is it because you're embarrassed you are reading such a shitty blog? Is it your guilty pleasure you don't want anyone to know about? Is this less socially acceptable than admitting you have an STD?
Fogues got me the Harvey Birdman DVD for my B-day, it's some of the funniest shit I have seen. My favorite episode so far is when he has to defend Shaggy and Scoobie when they get arrested for blazing in their van. Funny shit.
I've been listening to the Decemberists lately. They have a pretty groovy vibe going. Some of their stuff sounds like sea chanteys which is pretty interesting it's not the normal everyday stuff you hear. I've heard their stuff before, but I guess this is their newest album that I'm listening to. I likes and I recommend. Damn it's hot in here.
Ok I'm back.
I'm also reading The Victors by Stephen Ambrose. It's an awesome book, which I'm starting to say about all his books that I read. He's becoming one of my favorite authors and I think I'll make it my goal to read all his books. He writes history books (and I've read a lot of history books) that are engaging and griping, as well as exciting, as few authors can do. He gives you 360 degree view of battle while keeping the scope and size of his books fairly focused and narrow.
Ok well I think that's if for the update for now. Sorry no interesting shit has been happening and I can't seem to muster up anything better to write about, maybe I should start spewing some diatribes about how I hate everything. That is of course if it would make you feel better.

Another Weekend

OK so another weekend passes us by. Saw Kung Fu Hustle, better than I thought. Went to the Yankee game, better than I thought (they actually won.) Won my third straight game in Fantasy Ball (I think).

So all day this prescription is sitting at work waiting to be picked up. We close at 5. Doors lock. We've closed at 5 for decades. 5:15 knock at door. Guy comes in to pick up prescription that's been sitting all day. I ask him for some info. He calls me "Gestapo." I put voodoo curse on him. People are such assholes.

Me and James were talking about the Hip Hop field of dreams at the baseball game. Biggie smalls at short stop, Tupac at second, Big Pun at first. Easy E catching.

Speaking of Biggie, we were also saying how Biggie, and Shaq have songs with Michael Jackson. Wouldn't it be the most rad, awesome thing in the world if Biggie, Shaq and Michael Jackson were all one the same song? It would be a sonic carnival for my ears, small ear lobes and all.

Vampires?

So I went out this past weekend for my birthday with Evan and Shawn. It was alot like the Lost Boys, I was Corey (Haim) and they were the frog brothers. Just like the movie, except with no vampires, comic books, or sleepy California town. They took me to see Sahara, and oddly enough the word Sahara wasn't mentioned once in the movie. That should tell ya'll how good it was. Then we went to the ESPN zone, sat in some recliners and pigged out like we was at my Uncle's Superbowl Party. Fun fun fun.
So yeah 24 now, but I feel alot like 22 and 7/8ths. It's all about the same. Still in the tar pit. The weather is getting nice, I would sleep with the window open, but all the birds chirping wakes me up, which isn't a good thing when you go to bed at like 5 a.m., pray for four hours of sleep, and then get woken up by some bluebird with a hard on.
Socks. I'm one short from this weekend. But I vowed to get it back. All I could think about is how the matching sock is lonely. No longer a pair, just a one. Maybe I'll write a song about that....

There's A Creaking in My Head....

And it keeps me awake at night. It keeps me away from the things I love. I was OK for a little bit. Sleeping, waking up feeling rested. But now it's back. It's Three A.M. and here I am again. No amount of teeth staining tea can save me from this. It feels like my parts have become inconsequential to the sum. Is it the snoring next door, or the TV down the hall that keeps me up? No, it's something inside of me. Something that makes me fight. So i'll go now, scribble some notes that I'll never read again, conjure up some quotes I'll forget by morning. What morning is it anyway that's coming up? Is it Wednesday or Tuesday? Do I have to move the car.


I've come up with these drawings, which proves I'm not an artist but I'm making a connection.
86, 92, 99.

The Hours Pass...

A tribute today, to one of my favorite days of the year. The first day after daylight savings that you go to work. Everything is an hour off, and work for a day is no sweat. It's six but it really feels like five, it's seven but it feels like 6:54. This is one of my favorite days. The first day of the year when you leave work and the sun is still shinning. You feel guilty like maybe you've left too early. And then the feeling hits you, "how long will this last?" I bet by Wednesday it's gone.

I Have a Bum Ticker....

OK well not me my car really. Everyday I have to start up my car just to make sure the thing is running. To get it's juices flowing. To work out the old ticker. I don't mind because it gives me something to do. Something to do at 2:44 in the morning or 12:16 in the afternoon or 9:37 at night. So im sitting there tonight in my car under the dark cover of an old tree listening to a baseball game warming up my car. Warming up for a trip to nowhere. Warming up for the sake of saving 'ol Betsy. I blink for a moment and when I return I see the world passing by my windows, fading in my rear view mirror. Prophetic isn't it? Not really. More like pathetic. Then I hear the crack of a bat, and squeal of the announcer, and the sound of rain begining to hit the roof and windshield. Shadows of raindrops dance along the dash. And then I ask myself, "What if this is it? What if this is as exciting as it all gets?"
I chirp the alarm and walk away, thinking to myself "It's all right by me."

Death Watch 2005 ends, It's raining, and other musings...

So today thus ends a week that will forever in my heart be remembered as Death Watch '05. At the start of the week millions watched hoping, asking, or denying the impending death of Terri Schiavo, and by weeks end the world was tastefully preparing for the inevitably death of the pope. Something eerie about a week when for once the media wasn't reporting death occured, but death to come. Im starting my own death watch, the Todd Bridges death watch. Why? To show it's ok to mourn the death of celebrity personas, but to sit around waiting, filling every moment of the day with it, is unnecessary. And keep in mind, baseball starts up this weekend, don't let this propaganda overshadow the real things that are important in life.

Moving along, it's raining. I've slept some this week, more than I have in a while actually. It's unpredictable really, to say when I'm going to sleep and when I'm not. It's like watching a faucet drip and trying to predict when the next drop is going to fall only to have the rhythm thrown off by some unforeseen phenomenon. I had high hopes today for this Saturday, I was supposed to do something. But it's raining. And I'm still not dressed.

Went to the movies last night, and I went to buy my tickets ahead of time. The theater wasn't open yet and a group of about 20 of us stood outside waiting. To my amazement, newcomers would walk past the line right up to the door and open it. Only, the door was locked it wouldn't open. Did those people think that the line was just standing there to socialize? Were we there for our health? Man I hate that shit.

About the rain, it reminds me of a little ditty from Robert Frost. Happen to be going through my bookshelf and dug this one out.

" have been one acquainted with the night. I have walked out in rain - and back in rain. I have outwalked the furthest city light. I have looked down
the saddest city lane. I have passed by the watchman on his beat And dropped my
eyes, unwilling to explain.
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry Came over houses from another street,
But
not to call me back or say good-bye; And further still at an unearthly height, O
luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor
right. I have been one acquainted with the night. "

Acquainted with The Night, By Robert Frost

Kind of keeps with the whole rain and insomnia thing. Man can I beat a dead horse or what?

No really I can