4 days of stories, super condensed

This is my last 4 days.

Date with Cat. Very good, but she was just so intellectual, and proper, I felt wrong about making any sort of move whatsoever. Haven't called back at all.

Date with Jenna. Some things were bugging me about her, then I took her out to a show which she talked through most of, and I got really annoyed. Not much talking that night, and I think that's done now.

Date with Rebecca. Absolutely beautiful girl. Very easy going, and a good conversationalist. I thought it went really well. I got a message today saying it was alright, but no spark. So... whatever. Dating sucks. Don't ever do it, kids.

SHOWS!!!!..... Empress was cool, Solars was AWESOME, Jeffrey Lewis on Kris' birthday lived up to insanely high expectations, Role Mach on friday were fantastic, and played an entire set of unrehearsed jamming, GR8-2000 and Boogie Monster both put on some of their best sets ever on saturday..... and the week in music was overall, incredible.

GR8-2000 - I feel I should expand on this. I don't believe I've talked about him, but GR8-2000 is a 19 year old genius of a musician who most people would compare to Dan Deacon, but really, he can do anything. He has a song in which he claims he'll never eat candy again, and throws candy at the audience. Another song called "Get Your Ass On The Floor", in which the only lyrics are the title yelled over and over. The sky is the limit for him.

Actually, my label is re-releasing his first album on cd-r in the next week or two, and on vinyl in the next few months. In case you forget, www.tweedeath.com

I can talk about Boogie Monster or Role Mach another time, though they're equally as deserving.

work and media

Briefly, my friend Cory Ray wrote a blog post, and I had promised I'd start mine back up if he started his again, so...

Lots has happened in 4 1/2 months.

I started a record label with my friend Kris called Twee Death. www.tweedeath.com

3 vinyl releases planned for this winter, and a few other small projects. We also do show promotion, bringing up bands from the states that would never come here otherwise. That's been awesome, dealing with the strange and amazing people we have. Some highlights include the Barn Owl guys ("totally, dude. Totally totally."), the ladies of Mamiffer and Tiny Vipers chasing cats, doing yoga, and talking trash in Kris' east van backyard, and listening to the crazy-good sets that we're recording. Gooooood times.

This is going to be laid out a bit like a resume. But how can you avoid that when you're recapping 4 months?

What have I done for 4 months?

I've gone to about 20 shows of GR8-2000, 10 shows of Boogie Monster, and a good 50 others that don't involve either of those.

I quit my job that I probably wrote such good things about, because it turns out they weren't so great after all. I got a new job that seemed really good, but is now a bit up in the air.

I've gone almost a year without dating, but I'm seeing some girls again. That's always fun.

I started weight training to bulk up for my job, and did that for about 3 months until a 1 month break right now. But maybe writing it on the internet will force me back into doing it again.

Writing on the internet. Writing on the internet. Writing on the internet. Writing on the internet. Writing on the internet. Writing on the internet. Writing on the internet..............

I'm happy these days, but I fear the SAD of fall coming on. Maybe I should do some tanning to keep up those nice UV vibes.

I'll try and do this again sometime real soon. Since Cory has this on his RSS feeds... shoutout to my moving-away bro, HardCory.

Plants scare me

I heard a story about plants, maybe 2 months ago. I'm not sure on the sources, or credibility, or any of that, but it really freaked me out.

They did this experiment with plants where they set up 2 plants in a room, and then had a guy come into the room and completely destroy one of the plants, and leave the other one alone. This produced in the other plant an actual "fearful" reaction of some kind (I'm not sure how they determined this, but something to do with chemical processes of plants and whatnot.)

Not only was the plant fearful, but they tested further and discovered that when somebody entered the room, the plant showed less fear than it did when the same guy who destroyed the other plant entered the room. I'm not fucking kidding, the plant could identify which guy destroyed the other plant in the room.

This world is so much more connected than any of us realize. Hell, even my laptop on my bed right now is probably at the point of synthetic living where it could be thinking "please, I need better ventilation to continue working at high efficiency, so prop me up from the mattress with some books or something, you asshole." If plants interact with the world in such complex ways, why couldn't a laptop, or anything else. Literally, anything.

That reminds me of a book I've been meaning to read, which Andy Dixon (Winning, Secret Mommy) recommended to me. It's by Tom Robbins, and it's about all kinds of non-living things struggling to move, particle by particle, to some alternate purpose. Kind of like that shitty cartoon I used to watch when I was a kid, The Brave Little Toaster, which I don't recommend to anybody.

Anyway, I lost the plot somewhere here. The crux of the rant was meant to be this: plants are fucking insane, and the implications of intelligent plant life scare the shit out of me.

Stuff/Things

It's been at least 15 years since I've been in a fight. However, last night I got punched in the face by a crackhead. It was a lady crackhead, too. I'm really glad that I didn't make a big deal of it. I don't want to get arrested, or knifed, or whatever. It was just a show full of skids, so I guess I shouldn't have been that surprised.

Cory called me last night at 5 am, after he had 5 cop cars, a paddy wagon, and a helicopter chasing him. He climbed on the roof of the IGA. What a menace, that guy.

Oh, and I wrote my first song in almost a year. It's called "I Wanna Live To Be 100". Actually, it's not completely finished. It's pretty much just 3 good lines. But I'm really excited about it. Even though it's another song that ponders mortality, and I've got way too many of those.

I bought a $150 gift card for myself for futureshop. Another gift card next check, and I should have enough to buy a 360 in a month. Then I can stop having so many of these $100 drinking nights, and waste my life on some Grand Theft Auto.

We all need to aspire to something.

Escalator Riders

I saw something pretty cool today. Nothing too outrageous, but I dug it anyway.

A little old woman with a cane in hand, walking, that's right, fucking walking up the stairs of the escalator. She was holding a fucking cane, and still walked! Nobody walks on the fucking escalator anymore. But I think that's sort of symbolic of this generation's attitude, and why all the slow girls slouched over on the escalator at Metrotown every day are either obese or anorexic.

That little old lady is going to live to 100. Awesome. I wanted to high five, or fist-punch or something, but that's just what would happen in the movie version.

"That fucking kid... is back... on that goddamn escalator!"

Catching Up

Hey, internet! It's been a while since I rapped at ya.

So, my job has gone almost entirely to shit. Essentially, I'm being harassed for stupid, insignificant things, and constantly threatened that I may soon be fired. Oh well. It's not as though landscaping jobs are hard to come by in this city. However, my new plan is to wait another week or so until my benefits kick in, use them for all they're worth (I NEED contacts... and a year supply of anti-stomach-hurty pills that I've taken forever now would be nice too, given that they're damn expensive...) So yeah, once I reap the benefits of having, uh, benefits, then I'll decide if the shitty atmosphere is worth the extra $1 or $2 an hour over what I'd earn elsewhere.

Other news, Iron Man is awesome. Like, holy fuck. For true.

I might be getting a new apartment around Main and Broadway, which is awesome. My goal was to get a place anywhere within a $10 or so cab ride from downtown Vancouver, and this would definitely accomplish that. There comes a point where you simply can't live with your parents anymore, as cool as your parents may be. I think that point for me is 25 years.

Tons of good music, books, movies that I could talk to you about. But you're the internet, I'm sure you've kept up with all the message boards. (This is a not-so-subtle allusion to the fact that nobody reads my blog, I don't think, since I've only told a handful of people about it, and I never write in it... but it's just subtle enough that you might not get it. Whoever you are.)

April 27th

Well, it's 2 am on april 27th. April 27th used to be my anniversary, and this one would be the 9 year mark. (If you want to get technical, it is still the 9 year anniversary of when I started dating Jen, we just aren't together anymore, so there won't be any celebrating, I don't think.)

I guess it's just one less thing to worry about. No valentine's, girlfriend's birthdays, anniversaries, etc.

But that's not the whole story, and it's not even close to the truth. I liked buying things for Jen. I wanted her to feel the way I did when I read amazing books, or listened to mind-shatteringly great albums. I miss these things.

But I think back to when we started dating, and how Jen told me that she preferred to be called "Jennifer". I did that for years, spending the time to add those extra syllables thousands of times in conversation with her, or with other people. At some point, I stopped doing that, and went with "Jen" instead.

Now, today isn't an anniversary anymore. And I'm still too much of an asshole to add those 2 extra syllables to her name. This isn't self-loathing, or any great revelation. It's just a microcosm of how relationships disintegrate right in front of you.

A bunch of other things have happened in the 3 weeks since I wrote.

I got a raise.

I went on dates with a bunch of terrible women, and one good one.

I'm sure there's some music that's completely taking over my life.

But it's april 27th. I'll write about all that typical shit on some other non-anniversary.

Ministry's last show, and my $1000 mistake

Well, it's been a while since I last wrote, and a lot has happened.

First, I went to see Ministry's final show. Despite the fact that they only played 3 songs written before 1998, it was really good. I also caught a guitar pick at the very end of the show, so that makes for a nice little souvenir.

Aside from that, the theme of the night was karma, and how ignoring karma can really fuck you over.

If you read a few posts before Ministry, I say that I lost my ipod. Well, I got my ipod back, and I had it for about 8 hours. Fate swept it away again, when I left my backpack under a table at the bourbon, along with my digital camera. So, replacing my camera, ipod, headphones, and backpack is probably going to set me back about $1000.

But the good thing is that I've come to see that I needed something like that to happen if I was ever going to be smart about what I do with my stuff when I'm drinking.

Trying to stay positive. I get to read on the bus now.

Ministry ruled my formative years

This friday, Ministry are playing the commodore, and the show is sold out. Tickets are going for $100 right now, based largely on the fact that this is the "last" Ministry tour ever.

I am going to great lengths to acquire the $100 that might be necessary to attend. Here is why:

In 1996, I was in 8th grade. My step dad made me a tape of Ministry's album "Filth Pig", and it blew me away. I then got into the previous album, with their one hit, "Jesus Built My Hotrod", and finally fell in love with their 3 key 80's industrial masterpieces, plus the shredding mini-live album, "In Case You Didn't Feel Like Showing Up".

From the age of 12 to around 16, I would have called them my favourite band, based largely on their incredible transformation from a creepy electro-rock thing, into the sludgy beast of the late 90's, with all periods sounding equally as impressive. Ministry's history of stylistic reformation is on par with Bob Dylan, whom they covered "Lay Lady Lay", one of the songs that actually turned me onto Ministry so madly at 12 years old in the first place. It's mad cyclical.

Anyway, I have $25 in cash. $44 in US funds to transfer over. I'm harassing a friend to pay me back $15. I'm bringing in 10 months of liquor bottles piled up in my closet. I'm taking in my jar of change to the safeway for sorting, and hopefully $10-$15.

The reason is, my heroes are playing their final tour. I intend to say goodbye.

Wise Words 2

Paul, getting dressed to head out to a show, putting on a pair of socks.

"Oh... I think this is a cum sock."

Heads back to his room.

I feel its brilliance lies in its simplicity.

The Boredoms and straight gin

I went to Seattle to watch The Boredoms last night. Holy hell. Amazing.

The setup was 5 members with drum kits, and behind the lead singer, he had a 7-necked guitar, which he would sometimes turn around to hit with his drum sticks, and play the aforementioned 7-necked guitar. Plus lots of screaming.

Kris bought me a "double whiskey sour", which turned out to be straight gin. I decided it was too awful to sip, so I slammed back the glass, and proceeded to have it kick my ass. The first half of the show was worth the drive though, border hassles included.

The border police were very thorough, and asked if any of us had ever been handcuffed. Ugh...

Top 5 movies to watch when you're drunk

I could talk about real things, like how I fell asleep on the night bus, and woke up in Surrey without my ipod, and had to pay $40 for a cab ride home...

But I figured I'd do something less depressing.

1) Robocop

Something about watching Robocop kill junkies and rapists really appeals to me when I'm drunk.

2) Repo Man

I think I like it because they eat out of things labeled "food", and drink out of cans labeled "drink".

3) The Thing

Not sure why the hell this is a good drinking movie. It's kind of slow, and it's got no real cheese-factor, like most of my other favourite drinking movies. Maybe it's the whole interrogation scene that does it for me, when the one guy's head rips off, and starts creeping around the room. I have a special loathing of authority when I'm drunk (unless that authority is Robocop).

4) Commando, or anything with Steven Seagal

Commando is just amazing, in every way. Arnold just rips things a lot, like sheet metal, and chain link fences, with his bare hands. He also has a knife gun, and one gun-smashing-face sound effect that's used about 80 times in the film. Oh, and the bad guy is a fat British dude wearing chain mail. Holy fuck. I can't even talk about Steven Seagal now.

I also can't think of an appropriate 5th movie for the list. So why mess with a good thing?

Completely unrelated, but I really fucking hope I get my ipod back.

I wanna go corporate

I'm in the doghouse at work. Basically, I drank too much last night, showed up an hour late this morning, and left 2 hours early feeling sick. Not something to win over your employers when you've been with a company less than 3 weeks.

Really though, I hate the fact that I can't just call in. I want to be part of a massive corporation, where you aren't watched all the time, and where you CAN drink too much on a weeknight, and call in sick the next day.

I want to be nameless and faceless.

I mean, I don't really want any of these things. But that dream job idea really isn't working, so... bring on the corporate desk job. I'm sure I'd find all new and exciting things to hate.

Wise Words

I'm landscaping some crazy mansions these days. Most of the time, we're just stirring up soil, since there's no real work to do.

My co-worker, Niko, is Polish. Good command of English, but still a thick accent. This is his comment on the situation today at work:

"This place is shiny like dog's balls. Why we here?"

It was a good day.

Now off to see some of my favourite bands on the planet. Winning, then Secret Mommy.

Ah, weekend...

Pitchfork sucks a lot, and I'll tell you why

Jeffrey Lewis, if you read a couple posts back, is one of the best songwriters of this generation. That's just my opinion.

I think he's developed a lot as a songwriter. His first album had some great songs that took weird twists, but also had lyrics that should have been cut down a lot, as they tended to drag.

Each album has improved upon the one before it, with the exception of the new album "12 Crass Songs". That isn't to say the new album is bad, it's just kind of a side-step. Given that Jeffrey Lewis albums are mainly listened to for their lyrical content, clearly a covers album should be taken for what it is.

Pitchfork Media, in their infinite wisdom, waited until the album had already been out 4 months, to review it as a 2.3 out of 10.

It shouldn't shock me anymore, but I just wanted to point out what a bunch of fucking idiots run that site. The only reason I continue to go there, and probably always will, is that they review 5 albums per day. It is essentially a tool for finding out what new things to download. I've long since given up reading, or even checking the scores, of any of their reviews.

Eddie Argos, lead singer of Art Brut, claims that Jeffrey Lewis is one of his 5 favourite songwriters. John Peel thought enough of Lewis to give him a Peel Session. Still, Pitchfork won't buy into the hype. That is, if there were any hype to buy into. They create all "indie-centric" opinion to be re-hashed by all the people who say "music is my life", and STILL Jeffrey Lewis succeeds by putting out these great records.

It's just a fucking shame that all the suckers who still take P-fork seriously will never listen to a weird little album, that rests somewhere between interesting and great, because the almighty tastemaker has deemed it to be worthy of 2.3 imaginary units of goodness.

Here's a quote from the review:

"The formal disconnect between source and style actually sort of works once, on the anarchist manifesto "Big A Little A"... twelve songs is eleven too many, but that song, by itself, would've been a clever gesture."

They can't even pick the best song on the album.

I hope this whole "indie" craze dies sometime soon, and we can all go back to REAL corporations controlling our musical taste.

Rich Kids

My new job is crazy. It's my 7th year landscaping, but I started up with a new company. The money and benefits are WAY better than I've ever had before. But the contracts are also really different.

We have contracts with 3 private schools of kindergarten to grade 12.

Remember when you were a kid, and other kids would say "my dad could beat up your dad," or "my big brother could beat up your big brother"? Listen to this gem.

"My mom can spend more money than your mom."

Awesome.

Best Day In A Long While

So I lost my camera two months ago. Found it today in a tiny little pocket in my backpack.

Also, I've been talking to a friend of mine about starting a record label, and it looks like it's going to happen. There's a possibility, (not sure how large of a possibility), that if we pursue it, we could get the rights to re-release some out of print CD-R's by Six Organs Of Admittance onto vinyl.

I'm sure that means nothing to most people who read this. But they're a very well-recognized name, so not only would it be a financially sound investment, but it would also put us in a great position to put out vinyl for other bands in the future.

"Bury The Bottle With Me" - Dick Curless

This is a song I've been thinking about a bit lately, given the whole quitting drinking thing.

Apparently it's written by Dick Curless (amazing name), but I first heard it through Robbie Fulks.

"There's a stone in yonder graveyard with my name carved in it deep.
It don't tell my life story these things it can't repeat.
I never had a family I never took a wife.
All I had was a bottle and I drank away my life.

So bury the bottle with me for it's what tore me down.
And I won't be alone tonight when they put me in the ground.
When they lower my body down.

A drunkard is a sinner on this I place no doubt.
Oh the Lord won't share this palace with a thing he lives without.
For the bottle is the devil and drinking is his name.
Now the bottle is what took my soul and petrified my brain.

So bury the bottle with me for it's what tore me down.
And I won't be alone tonight when they lower me in the ground.
When they lower my body down."

Jeffrey Lewis and a ridiculous friday night

I went to see The Mountain Goats with Jeffrey Lewis on friday. I'd already seen The Mountain Goats, which was awesome. But the real attraction was getting to see Jeffrey Lewis, as I've loved his albums from the start. I found him through a connection to Moldy Peaches, as he was a big part of the New York anti-folk scene.

Anyway, both in person, and on stage, Jeffrey Lewis is the real deal. I feel sort of the same way that I did when I first saw The Fiery Furnaces, in that this is a band who could do anything they wanted. In this case, they basically played a set of punk songs. In fact, they did a pretty poor job of selection from their 5 albums worth of material, and still blew a lot of people away. They even played one of the most annoying songs, "another girl", and turned it into one of the highlights of the show. Although anything with a chorus as awesome as this....

"Now I've found another girl,
and she's cuter and younger than you ever were.
She could kick your ass if you fucked with her.
And she's good in bed, and she calls me sir."

... is bound to slay an unsuspecting audience.

I was excited to see the Mountain Goats again, but 2 songs into the set, something in me snapped and I had an anxiety attack. I had to leave immediately, and went to find something to drink, to calm my nerves. I cracked the bottle while waiting for the train. I was immediately busted by the cops for drinking in public. $115 fine. Brutal.

Anyway, the kicker is that one of the triggers that probably set me off was seeing Dan Bejar (Destroyer, member of New Pornographers) show up after Jeffrey Lewis' set, walk directly backstage, and come back out with beers in his hands. It was pathetic. Clearly, he doesn't give a shit about music at this point. He's just showing up to shmooze. This is an artist that's produced some amazing material, including one of my all-time favourite songs "This Night." In fact, he's so prolific that I even referenced him in a previous blog post! But that's all over now. Fuck Dan Bejar.

Oh, and fuck the cops too. I peeled the label off, and went over to a corner to drink. They're just drumming up funds, I guess. But they could've at least let me keep the bottle I'd taken 3 swigs of.

Seattle

Went to Seattle to see Neurosis and Converge last night. Really don't care for either of the bands, but I'm always up for a road trip.

I went with Paul, which was awesome. I got to pick his brain about Winning, and further express my love of the new album.

I've also been reading The Game by Neil Strauss. It's a book about the world's greatest pickup artists, and I've been loving it. I don't think I'd ever use any of the moves they use, for the most part, but the psychology behind it gave me a newfound confidence. However, I struck out in spectacular fashion with any women of note. I'm not really a player anyway.

On a sidenote, some of the "negs" they use in The Game (kind of like backhanded compliments, showing interest in a girl, but insulting her at the same time) are amazing. My favourite neg is definitely "Oh, you've got eye crusties. No, don't rub them. I like eye crusties!"

Not much of note happened on the trip. Taco Bell had less obese people than normal, which was interesting. We wandered through the gay neighbourhood for quite a while, passing bars with amazing names like "The Honey Hole," then made up a bunch of hilarious should-be gay bar names. I can't remember any of them, but I just thought of "Cock-a-Diddle-Doo" off the top of my head. It's really not a difficult game.

Lastly, I thought of a rhyme while I was standing around in an arcade.

"When I go out to the clubs,
I feel like a drug.
All the ladies wanna be on me."

It's sort of quoting Anchorman, which is completely passe these days. But I thought it was aight.

Sounds like Winning!

Ok, so this is going to be my 4th consecutive post not dedicated to girls. Shocking, I know.

This post is about Winning. Possibly the best band you've never heard.

Captain Beefheart changed my life, or at least the way I listen to music. I think that the new Winning album is possibly better than Beefheart's opus, "Trout Mask Replica". (The history behind Trout Mask Replica is long, and insane, and way too much to get into here. Suffice to say that it pops up on many critics all-time best of lists, including Lester Bangs, John Peel, and Rolling Stone magazine's lists before they became the rag they are today...)

Winning are my friends. Andy Dixon. Greg Adams. Paul Patko.

I've always had friends in bands. Some good, some not so good, some bordering on great (I wouldn't know any of these 3 guys if it weren't for my obsession with The Winks).

I've listened to the new Winning album approximately 40 times now. I don't do that often. Maybe twice a year.

That No Age album that everyone loved last year wishes it were as good as this album (if that boring No Age album took human form and started listening to records, that is).

This is the album that Radiohead would make if they had 1/1000th of the balls this album does, and if the drumming for Radiohead wasn't as robotic as fucking Johnny 5 (cultural references are good, kids).

This is the album that Pitchfork, the Gods of all that is right and good in music, should be giving a 9-point-something rating to, and lauding as "the next great noiseniks for the post-whatever generation."

This is the album that should be played front to back in its entirety at the ATP festival in Germany, or England, or wherever those things take place, 15-20 years from now.

I think I like it more than my favourite Sonic Youth album.

I definitely like it more than my favourite The Fall album.

I know that every album is a part of you after you've heard it. I think this album is all the best parts of me. The part that used to spin in circles to stumble around in a field, before I'd ever gotten drunk or cared to. The part that would light matches just to watch them burn. The part that used to not step on cracks, ever.

This album might just change my life.

Hayden is still good, after all these years

I went to see Hayden for the first time in 9 years last night. I think the similarities between shows 9 years apart are pretty eerie.

When I last saw Hayden, I was 16 years old; it was at a campus bar, I didn't yet have a girlfriend (ever, HA!, those were the days), and I loved every second of it. I even brought the album cover to get it autographed by him! He made fun of me in front of the college kids, and I was incredibly nervous.

Today, I've since graduated from the university he played the first time I saw him, I'm a bitter 25 year old, pissed off that I have to travel an hour to a different campus bar to watch him play, again without a girlfriend, and still managed to love every second of it.

He did manage to play some of his worst material from his first album. He also hates it when people yell "We love you, Hayden!". HATES IT. Which is understandable for what he's doing. The guy plays his friggin trumpet solo parts with "mouth trumpet". Clearly, even he doesn't take himself that seriously.

In summation, Hayden is awesome, even if his records are hit-or-miss, and the new one is particularly bland. But the hits are still gold, and I needed a reminder of that.

Quitting drinking

So I decided that I'm quitting drinking. Probably for the rest of my life. It really sucks, because I absolutely love drinking. But I've gotta do it for health reasons.

I'll be having a big party to cap off the sober life. I figure it gives people the chance to have one last drink with me, and hopefully wish me luck.

It's going to make it harder to have adventures being sober, but I think I'll manage.

In other news, valentine's day is coming up. It'll be the first single v-day for me in a little under 9 years. I could have a date for the evening if I pursued it, but the girl in question is boring. She's also another Whitney Houston fan, and I never trust those.

I did figure out something fun to do though. Let's call it...

The Whitney Houston Game

"I Wanna Dance With Somebody"

"I Will Always Love You"

"I Have Nothing"

"It's Not Right, But It's Ok"

Play all 4 of these songs simultaneously.

It sounds like the aural equivalent of murder.

When it gets to the middle of the song, and all 4 Whitney's are fully belting it out, I could swear they are all in one room, screaming in each other's faces. Powerful stuff. I've played The Whitney Houston Game 3 times now. I love it.

You ever get the feeling you'll never grow old?

I can't see myself living past 40. It's not that I have a death wish or anything like that. I just can't actually visualize myself at that age.

I can picture 30, and even 35, but after 40 it just gets blurry.

I think my biggest worry is that I'll change into something that I don't want to (Destroyer, "Don't Become The Thing You Hated"), but time will render this transformation unavoidable. Just like when I imagine what music I'll be listening to 5 years from now. Even looking at the way my friends who are 3-4 years older than me have gotten into weird obscure noise albums, or else totally bland pop music, or indie rock or whatever.... Fuck. I just want to stick to this middle ground, forever.

I've listened to the 4 Japanther albums on my computer almost 3 times all the way through over the last 5 hours or so. I also just finished reading Johnny The Homicidal Maniac, and started into Kurt Cobain's journals (some wild shit in the journals, including a note to Dave Grohl kicking him out of the band from 1988.... weird).

I'm sure none of this media is helping with my current mood. Cobain was never going to grow old either, and of course Japanther would symbolize a fear of music degeneration, being totally simple lo-fi punk shit that I've been listening to for, again, 5 fucking hours now.

Coherency = nil. Success.

Another girl, another blog post

I know I probably seem like a womanizer at this point, but I swear I'm too incompetent to manage such a lifestyle.

Anyway, here's a story from a couple of weeks ago.

I went to a house party in which my attention was divided between 3 things:

1) Drinking

2) Playing Rock Band

3) Hitting on a cute girl

I down my 6 pack fast, and take care of the first point. I sing my ass off all night, again, succeeding in the second point. Then in the middle of playing a song, the cute girl starts making out with me. Awesome.

So, the next part involves stumbling around on the street, making out with cute girl, and eventually getting her home. I tiptoe to her room with her, and within 10 seconds, the guy who had been sleeping on the couch, and I had assumed to be her brother, comes into the room and pummels my face. It turns out that the guy on the couch was actually her boyfriend.

I covered up my face as best as I could, and got out of there, bloodied and confused.

Here's the crazy part. She wakes up the next day, and she's beaten up too.

(I'd like to point out that if I were in the situation where my girlfriend comes home with a guy and walks right past me to the bedroom with him, I'm not beating anybody up, I'm packing my shit and leaving. But maybe that's just me.)

Anyway, I finally got to talk to her about it all a few days ago, and she says that she woke up with blood all over her face, and she wondered where she fell. Unbelievably, she would prefer to imagine that while she was walking home, she smashed her face on something, then went home and fell asleep.

The entire situation is crazy to me. I accept every aspect of it, and given the circumstances, I'm lucky that I only got a little bit beaten up. That's all fine. What I'm not cool with is that nothing of consequence came from it.

It's almost as if this story exists simply as a story. There aren't any moral consequences, and that's somehow really fucking sad. I'm just another guilty party in a story of drunken debauchery and idiocy.

I guess it makes for a decent story though.

Honesty

I think honesty is important.

So, I'm at a show last night. The band is some of my friends playing their first show, so despite wishing I was at any of 3 different awesome shows going on, I was there for support. I meet a seemingly sweet girl named Elice, and we start talking about music. This is where things go wrong.

Me: "So what kind of music are you into?"

Elice frowns

Me: "I guess... what's really doing it for you lately? What did you listen to on the way here?"

Elice: "The Be Good Tanyas"

Me: "Oh yeah. They've got that song about birds."

Elice: "Right. 'The Littlest Birds Sing The Prettiest Songs'."

Me: "Yeah, that's it. I really hate that song, and I guess I sort of hate them because of that song. No offense or anything. So, what else are you into?"

Elice: "Feist."

Me: "Hmm. I've actually seen Feist twice, and I left before the end of both shows. She's just really boring, I think."

Elice: "Oh, weird. Um, I like to play Jewel songs on guitar."

Okay, you get the point.

I bought another round of drinks.

I kissed her twice, totaling maybe 12 seconds. She left early, and I took the night bus home alone.

She plays Jewel songs on guitar.

Fresh start

So, I'm starting to blog again. I think I had 3 people reading it before, and haven't posted in 5 months. I guess I stopped because I was at a point of thinking that nobody cares what anybody says about music, because listening is such a personal thing.

This time around, it's just going to be an everything blog, though I'm sure you'll still get bitchy music rants pretty often.

So, life....

I've come to realize one crucial thing about dating; I hate the feeling of being in a position of superiority to whoever I'm seeing, in any way. Ideally, I want someone who knows more music, movies, philosophy, world history, fucking anything that will at least put me in a position of not knowing. I can't continue seeing these women in which I constantly feel like I need to teach them everything.

For example, I was watching a hockey game with a girl the other night, and I dumbed myself down to the point that I made the remark "I wish I had a cool name like Bates Battaglia". I'm sure there are dumber things that I could've said, but seriously, that's not me.

And I'm not saying that I need to constantly talk about existentialism, or poetry, or David Lynch films, or anything really. I just want a woman where these topics, and similar topics, are options for conversation.