Minus the Bear was initially a band I knew little about other than their presence on the indie scene as some vaguely interesting amorphous mass of music. I downloaded a discography of theirs and synced it to my Zune and promptly forgot about it for about a year. At some point, I started randomly playing some of their music and while I liked it, I was nowhere near their greatest fan. They made for very good desert cruising music and that was the extent of my knowledge of the band. Until one fateful day, after meeting up with Chris and his crew for the first time I crashed at their place after going out and drinking somewhat heavily. Jimmy had left his music playing during the night, and everything that came on was just wonderful. A heavy variety of Minus the Bear songs was included in the playlist, and from that night on I made a point to actually sincerely listen to the band. I became downright addicted to the Highly Refined Pirates album, spinning it endlessly through my Winamp queue to the point where it would have been ruined had it been a cassette. Thankfully 1s and 0s of digital media don't degrade so my listening experience stayed just as pristine. Eventually as these things do, my frequency of listening dropped off in favor of other bands to inject a bit of variety, however I had not lost my love of their upbeat and spacey sound or somewhat in-your-face lyrics about drinking and fucking in France or anywhere else one could think of for that matter. When Jimmy mentioned they were coming to the Marquee here in Tempe, I graciously took in the information and mulled it over for a bit. I really liked the music, but would the show meet expectations? I took a gamble and bought a ticket, then pushed the gig out of my mind for the next month and a half. I spent October doing myriad activities, including taking a trip back to Pennsylvania to watch my friend get married, see Man Man, smoke a hookah for the first time and just participating in general merrymaking. I also spent a large amount of evenings in October attending shows, the most shows I've ever attended in one month. Minus the Bear ended up being the last on the docket, but far far from the least (that honor goes to Opeth, as I was expecting to see a metal show and got a prog-rock show).
The show was attended in costume. I threw on some green facepaint, a bloody painted shirt, and flannel and shuffled my way into the venue after our drive. Moving Mountains opened the show, and their drummer caused a mighty ruckus. He looked like Hurley from Lost and was pounding on the skins with a theatrical flare and vigor that easily made him my favorite to watch. After a brief intermission consisting of pissing and smoking, Minus the Bear took the stage. Now, although I really like their music, I don't know all the lyrics of all the songs on all the albums as I do with a lot of other bands I love (for example Clutch). The five man troupe took over the audience's will with the deftness expected of experienced performers. The crowd immediately came to live and started singing along word for word with front-man Jake Snider. The band packed in a huge amount of material, many songs I had only heard once or twice, a few I had never heard. These formed the bread around the meaty core of the music that night, the entirety of the Highly Refined Pirates album. It was wonderful. The band sounded excellent and the crowd went wild for each song being played. I had heard from Jimmy that if the band gets too drunk, they'll fuck up all the time during the show. Not that night. I felt they may have been riding the energy of the crowd, for although they were drinking beer the entire show, nobody faltered, as if the crowd's momentum pushed them along through the night.
That night will be memorable for a few reasons, and Minus the Bear is going to be a large part of that memory. I will not hesitate to buy a ticket next time they are going to be in the Phoenix area. Now to start tearing through the rest of that neglected discography.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Internetting for a relationship
How does one toe the line between making mundane exploits exciting and not making up outright lies? This is my prevailing dilemma when creating a profile for online dating sites (namely OkCupid). What are the necessary components for creating a profile which stands out enough that a girl may be interested in replying when faced with a huge influx of "haey babby" and "wanna putt dat dik inya" type propositioning? How do women on dating sites deal with the huge amount of shit messages without cracking? A portion of my trouble seems to be that I am so defeatist that I immediately assume nothing will come of sending a message so I just put something asinine in the box and send it. More often than not a visit to this site leaves me feeling very misanthropic and argumentative.
I thought this would be a bigger post but then I realized I am fucking tired and don't feel like thinking.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Shit my parents' DNA expresses
I've inherited my mothers iron resolve
and my father's crippling bouts of depression
I've inherited my mother's frugality
and my father's free-spending ways (enough that I will be taking a second trip to Vegas this year)
I've inherited my mother's rational thinking
and my father's propensity to drinking
I've inherited my father's occasional narcissistic streak
and my mother's crippling bouts of social anxiety
I've inherited my father's affinity toward creative pursuits
and my mother's inability to express any of them publicly
I've inherited my father's sense of entitlement
and my mother's lack of aggression towards those that deny it
I love my parents
and realize this is nothing they could control
but dammit, why can't I arrange the pieces
in a way less detrimental
and my father's crippling bouts of depression
I've inherited my mother's frugality
and my father's free-spending ways (enough that I will be taking a second trip to Vegas this year)
I've inherited my mother's rational thinking
and my father's propensity to drinking
I've inherited my father's occasional narcissistic streak
and my mother's crippling bouts of social anxiety
I've inherited my father's affinity toward creative pursuits
and my mother's inability to express any of them publicly
I've inherited my father's sense of entitlement
and my mother's lack of aggression towards those that deny it
I love my parents
and realize this is nothing they could control
but dammit, why can't I arrange the pieces
in a way less detrimental
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
I've Seen Jupiter as a Human Place to Live
One day, everything will end. The earth will be naught but dust swirling about the reddened, dying husk of the sun. Mercury and Venus will have long been gone, and Mars not long after earth. Even the asteroid belt will have met the same fate, becoming orbiting particulate, dissolved by the death throes of that which once produced life. At some point afterwards the matter on Jupiter, or perhaps just one of its myriad satellites may coalesce into something resembling our pale blue dot. To be able to observe this change wrought by death on a cosmic scale would be indescribable. Perhaps future generations will be so lucky as to come back, as tourists, to the place where earth-that-was resided and met its demise. Perhaps they will even be in awe of the fact that humanity was ever bound to just one star.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
My top a few most favorite song lyric writers/singers
Isaac Brock
This man expertly captures the ecstasy, agony, and angst of being. He doesn't use a lot of complex or obscure words in his songs, but he is a master of lyrical construction, flipping simple phrases back on themselves to succinctly explain an idea. The spaciness of Modest Mouse's musical composition greatly enhances the gravity of musings, and his loud, angry, soft, reflective, fucking pissed delivery makes sure you'll remember what he has to say.
"The universe is shaped exactly like the earth, if you go straight long enough you'll end up where you were."
Tom Waits
Master past, present, and future. The slurred, carnival barker voice coupled with lyrics consisting of reminiscing about a man with two faces or a piano player with no body is eerie enough in its own right. Add in the ability to croon like Frank Sinatra with a gizzard full of gravel and his breadth of emotion is boundless.
"And I must be insane/to go skating on our name/and by tracing it twice/I fell through the ice/of Alice"
Craig Finn
Injects a huge amount of humanity into the situation surrounding junkies, drunks, pimps, and other "low lifes". His drunken delivery is suitably intoxicating, and the stories, which normally involve everyday people with bad judgement, are excellent at expressing the fragility of any given situation and the potential fall lurking behind any decision.
Conor Oberst
He can handle any subject thrown at him dealing with nearly any existential issue with sublime grace. He will sometimes make reference to obscure events to enrich his material, and allow the listener the opportunity to do some research to enhance their understanding of the music.
Neil Fucking Fallon
Pure fun, with a razor sharp wit. References tons of historical events, literature, and mythology. Delivers it all with a terrible roar and energy.
This man expertly captures the ecstasy, agony, and angst of being. He doesn't use a lot of complex or obscure words in his songs, but he is a master of lyrical construction, flipping simple phrases back on themselves to succinctly explain an idea. The spaciness of Modest Mouse's musical composition greatly enhances the gravity of musings, and his loud, angry, soft, reflective, fucking pissed delivery makes sure you'll remember what he has to say.
"The universe is shaped exactly like the earth, if you go straight long enough you'll end up where you were."
Tom Waits
Master past, present, and future. The slurred, carnival barker voice coupled with lyrics consisting of reminiscing about a man with two faces or a piano player with no body is eerie enough in its own right. Add in the ability to croon like Frank Sinatra with a gizzard full of gravel and his breadth of emotion is boundless.
"And I must be insane/to go skating on our name/and by tracing it twice/I fell through the ice/of Alice"
Craig Finn
Injects a huge amount of humanity into the situation surrounding junkies, drunks, pimps, and other "low lifes". His drunken delivery is suitably intoxicating, and the stories, which normally involve everyday people with bad judgement, are excellent at expressing the fragility of any given situation and the potential fall lurking behind any decision.
Conor Oberst
He can handle any subject thrown at him dealing with nearly any existential issue with sublime grace. He will sometimes make reference to obscure events to enrich his material, and allow the listener the opportunity to do some research to enhance their understanding of the music.
Neil Fucking Fallon
Pure fun, with a razor sharp wit. References tons of historical events, literature, and mythology. Delivers it all with a terrible roar and energy.
Monday, May 16, 2011
A Partial Dream Journal
Felt I should record a recent dream for posterity. It creeped me out to the core, due to the physics present in the head simulation. Note that this covers only a small portion of the dream, not the entire thing. It's worth skipping the introduction and irrelevant details to preserve the brevity and impact of the place. It started with me and a few vaguely familiar people traipsing through an urban wasteland in search of a pot-farm. We poked through an impossibly long row of abandoned bars, stores, and shacks in our pursuit of weed. Seeing as I don't even really like getting high in real life, I'm going to assume our quest was to steal and resell the merchandise for a quick profit. Eventually, and finally, after poking through countless bric-a-brac laced storefronts we had found the one. In the back of the place was a sort of trap door that lead to the base of operations located below ground. The room featured climate control and irrigation for the plants, and was very well maintained. There was also what looked like a bathroom door in this area. After such a long and tiring trek my bladder was filled to bursting, so I decided I would check out this room.
It would me no exaggeration to say the place was ripped straight from a Resident Evil game, albeit one which allowed for rooms with variable dimensions and ludicrous liquid physics. It resembled a dilapidated school gym shower room with a wall of toilet stalls at the main entrance. It was stained, dimly lit, and smelled of sweat and brimstone. From that description, it seems none too menacing, but the eeriest quality was the apparent sound dampening. There was no characteristic echo heard when performing any action in the room, and the air pressure seemed oddly increased, to the point where I noticed it pushing on my ear drums. I used a stall, all the while aware of these slight variations of normalcy, and by the time I was finished I was doing everything in my power to leave quickly. After exiting the stall, I was oddly compelled to use the sink instead of saying fuck it and bursting out of that creepy hellhole. I shouldn't have, but once I turned it on there was nothing to be done but let the pieces fall where they lay.
The sink was a just another piece in the jigsaw puzzle of weirdness this room had become. As the water ran and as I washed my hands and face, I was hypnotized into letting the thing run. I lost whatever little motor skill I had left and from that point forward could do nothing but stare slack-jawed as the sink filled up. The sink filled up and filled up some more, and when it over-filled, a gut-wrenching distortion of reality occurred. The water started pooling on the floor of the bathroom, but only on one specific area, near the front where I was standing. There was nothing obstructing the water from flowing to any other part of the room, but it was hemmed in by an invisible force and diverted towards the center. As the water ran, the room filled up more quickly. I began to come around when I realized the water had reached a point where it had soaked my shoes. I saw the level approaching the point where it would flow into an electrical outlet and began to panic as this particular outlet did not contain a GFCI circuit. I tried running towards the section of the room containing no water, but a sickening event took place. As I tried breaking through, I was blocked by an invisible, elastic force, presumably the same force that kept the water contained. The force manifest itself physically when I made a futile and panicked run for the unsubmerged portion of the room. It deformed and the water rushed in to fill the "gap" made by my charge, which surprised and sickened me, and caused me to bounce back and land, back first, complete with a loud and terrible splash into the drink. I sprang up in terror, immediately fixating on the electrical outlet situation and waited with mounting dread and despair for the water to hit the outlet, not knowing what to expect from the demon room. When the water reached that point, the pale fluorescent glow began to flicker wildly. I began to feel strange jolts going through my body, and although it didn't hurt I began feeling dizzy and lightheaded. I could do nothing at this point but slog my way to the sink and attempt to get to a higher spot to get out of the water, all the while feeling tiny spasms shoot up my legs. Before I even attempted to clamber my way onto the sink, however, the tiles in the floor parted to reveal a system of storm drains. At this point the water was nearly level with the sink and though I was a bit relieved about the situation, for some reason dream logic compelled me to be worried as the receding water would leave me vulnerable to a very nasty electric shock. I set myself in a superhero pose, preparing to bear the brunt of the shock. As my dream addled mind predicted, the zaps got more and more intense as the level receded lower and lower, but once the water was below the outlet's level I felt nothing else. For reasons that escape my conscious, rational mind I never thought to try the door to the place until after that point.
I awoke from the dream at precisely that point, and never got to find out what happened with our little operation, or what the point of us going to this room ever was. All I know is it stuck in my mind well enough and was eerie and creepy enough to deserve mention in some expressible format. So, to you internet, my love, I present my crazy haunted bathroom dream.
It would me no exaggeration to say the place was ripped straight from a Resident Evil game, albeit one which allowed for rooms with variable dimensions and ludicrous liquid physics. It resembled a dilapidated school gym shower room with a wall of toilet stalls at the main entrance. It was stained, dimly lit, and smelled of sweat and brimstone. From that description, it seems none too menacing, but the eeriest quality was the apparent sound dampening. There was no characteristic echo heard when performing any action in the room, and the air pressure seemed oddly increased, to the point where I noticed it pushing on my ear drums. I used a stall, all the while aware of these slight variations of normalcy, and by the time I was finished I was doing everything in my power to leave quickly. After exiting the stall, I was oddly compelled to use the sink instead of saying fuck it and bursting out of that creepy hellhole. I shouldn't have, but once I turned it on there was nothing to be done but let the pieces fall where they lay.
The sink was a just another piece in the jigsaw puzzle of weirdness this room had become. As the water ran and as I washed my hands and face, I was hypnotized into letting the thing run. I lost whatever little motor skill I had left and from that point forward could do nothing but stare slack-jawed as the sink filled up. The sink filled up and filled up some more, and when it over-filled, a gut-wrenching distortion of reality occurred. The water started pooling on the floor of the bathroom, but only on one specific area, near the front where I was standing. There was nothing obstructing the water from flowing to any other part of the room, but it was hemmed in by an invisible force and diverted towards the center. As the water ran, the room filled up more quickly. I began to come around when I realized the water had reached a point where it had soaked my shoes. I saw the level approaching the point where it would flow into an electrical outlet and began to panic as this particular outlet did not contain a GFCI circuit. I tried running towards the section of the room containing no water, but a sickening event took place. As I tried breaking through, I was blocked by an invisible, elastic force, presumably the same force that kept the water contained. The force manifest itself physically when I made a futile and panicked run for the unsubmerged portion of the room. It deformed and the water rushed in to fill the "gap" made by my charge, which surprised and sickened me, and caused me to bounce back and land, back first, complete with a loud and terrible splash into the drink. I sprang up in terror, immediately fixating on the electrical outlet situation and waited with mounting dread and despair for the water to hit the outlet, not knowing what to expect from the demon room. When the water reached that point, the pale fluorescent glow began to flicker wildly. I began to feel strange jolts going through my body, and although it didn't hurt I began feeling dizzy and lightheaded. I could do nothing at this point but slog my way to the sink and attempt to get to a higher spot to get out of the water, all the while feeling tiny spasms shoot up my legs. Before I even attempted to clamber my way onto the sink, however, the tiles in the floor parted to reveal a system of storm drains. At this point the water was nearly level with the sink and though I was a bit relieved about the situation, for some reason dream logic compelled me to be worried as the receding water would leave me vulnerable to a very nasty electric shock. I set myself in a superhero pose, preparing to bear the brunt of the shock. As my dream addled mind predicted, the zaps got more and more intense as the level receded lower and lower, but once the water was below the outlet's level I felt nothing else. For reasons that escape my conscious, rational mind I never thought to try the door to the place until after that point.
I awoke from the dream at precisely that point, and never got to find out what happened with our little operation, or what the point of us going to this room ever was. All I know is it stuck in my mind well enough and was eerie and creepy enough to deserve mention in some expressible format. So, to you internet, my love, I present my crazy haunted bathroom dream.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Monday, April 4, 2011
Goddamn I can be an Emo Bitch
Time to put a spring back in my step, interfags! I'm talkin' bout that lovely season of regrowth, greenery, and copious fucking by both plants and animals! Allergies, bees, and picnics! SPRING! Spring is the time when everything in Arizona grows for a week, then wilts under the heat of an uninhibited and vengeful sun for 5 months! Spring in Arizona accounts for hundreds of weeds worming up through the gravel in my yard and costing me time and money in maintaining their absence! Also, return of motherfucking crickets in my house! They will stop at nothing to shove their squishy, noisy, jumpy little insect bodies into any highly conspicuous spot, especially in the drain of my shower! Ah, spring, you artist with a well of fathomless talent, decorating one side of my house in pigeon shit, egg shells, and blood-caked dead baby birds turned cat toys. The most wonderful time of the year, truly.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
...and a Crappy New Year
I feel pretty awful right now and I'd assume much of it is from the stress this disorganized mess of a project is putting on my shoulders. I feel like I can't be happy right now, not with the weight of this stupid thing riding my back. It's making me lethargic and sickly and I just can't wait until I get to Florida and get this presentation over with. Whatever the outcome, I just have to remind myself that it's only a job, it's not like I'm charging with the front line. The worst that could happen is I get fired, which is in and of itself doubtful, and even if it did, could be the best occurrence in my life right now. I'll do my best, and prepare for the worst.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Strange Feelings of Ineptitude and Low Self Esteem
I will not try to kid myself on this issue, I have had low self esteem for awhile and although it has improved with age and experience, I still suffer from this problem. It makes me lethargic and unambitious, and creates in me a sense of defeat and purposelessness at times. It makes me reclusive and unwilling to experience the world and it seems completely unreasonable, unfair, and unjustified. I do not see it as self-loathing so much as a feeling begotten of nihilism stemming from unknown and unwanted regions of my mind. As I survey the professional landscape of my peers and marvel at their accomplishments, the feeling is magnified. I need a method of banishing this lethargy and allowing myself ambitions, hopes, and dreams.
I need to find a way to get over my own self-pitying ways and "do it, rather than live with the fear of it."
I need to find a way to get over my own self-pitying ways and "do it, rather than live with the fear of it."
Friday, December 24, 2010
Tomorrow is Christmas, it's practically here!
Well, no new job for the new year yet, I actually just finished up a hellish week pertaining to my previous project. Worked 12+ days on Tuesday and Wednesday, and had to work on Thursday, which was originally scheduled to be a day off. No matter, it's done, the client's happy, and now I get to celebrate Christmas in Havasu!
I had a very interesting dream last night, included within were such fun things as my great uncle playing World of Warcraft and loving it, my grandpap taking pictures on a chair with some chick who lives in Havasu I saw on OKCupid, and me peeing into a sink. Also, at one point I was running down a hallway which featured the cover art for every album on my computer. As I walked into the art's perimeter, the associated music began playing. The whole time my dad and uncle were trailing behind, enduring my awesome music library consisting of such winners as Adema, Limp Bizkit, and Saliva.
Anyhow, I woke up and now I have to get a shower so I can beat traffic on my way to Havasu for the festivities. I wish the drive wasn't so goddamn long, but it is what it is. Merry Christmas eve and Christmas day to all of ya!
I had a very interesting dream last night, included within were such fun things as my great uncle playing World of Warcraft and loving it, my grandpap taking pictures on a chair with some chick who lives in Havasu I saw on OKCupid, and me peeing into a sink. Also, at one point I was running down a hallway which featured the cover art for every album on my computer. As I walked into the art's perimeter, the associated music began playing. The whole time my dad and uncle were trailing behind, enduring my awesome music library consisting of such winners as Adema, Limp Bizkit, and Saliva.
Anyhow, I woke up and now I have to get a shower so I can beat traffic on my way to Havasu for the festivities. I wish the drive wasn't so goddamn long, but it is what it is. Merry Christmas eve and Christmas day to all of ya!
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Trekking the Bleak Wasteland of Corporate America
Of certain import is my situation, oh blogulant ones. I work as a traveling software tester. They pay me to go to their offices, I do my best to help them fix their shitty programs. This time, I was sent off to one of the more unsatisfying adventures of my career. I was sent to the Newest Jersey, home of Snooki and other such distasteful guidos in order to help baby soap manufacturing giant Johnson and Johnson solve a problem. I will not bore you to bones with technical details but suffice to say I am merely retreading established pathways. The issue with this is the trekking itself. You see, the J&J offices are located in scenic buttfuck egypt, NJ. I am there from Sunday night until Friday afternoon every week. The problem being that I get no time at my house. I bought my house with the intent to live in it, but it appears that will not be the case as I've gotten a solid two months of actual living time out of the place. It is more of a winter home, one that I inhabit one full day a week. That being said, I stewed on the issue and decided it may be about time for a job switch.
Today marks the first day of the search. Granted all I did was fill out profiles on Career Builder and Monster to attract some interest with likely candidates, but it's a start. I would find it quite lovely to end up in a position with far, far less non-local travel (as in no travel) as of right now it's bothering me to the point of wanting to be done with it all (not a shotgun mouthwash, mind you). I shall use this as a checkpoint and wait to see how things end up.
Today marks the first day of the search. Granted all I did was fill out profiles on Career Builder and Monster to attract some interest with likely candidates, but it's a start. I would find it quite lovely to end up in a position with far, far less non-local travel (as in no travel) as of right now it's bothering me to the point of wanting to be done with it all (not a shotgun mouthwash, mind you). I shall use this as a checkpoint and wait to see how things end up.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Song Idea
Something about fixing Mexico being allegorical to a relationship.
Or...
Fuck, a song about fixing Mexico. Cause that Abraham Reyes guy is a total asshole.
Or...
Fuck, a song about fixing Mexico. Cause that Abraham Reyes guy is a total asshole.
A Transferrence
Wrote this some time ago in a quaint analog notebook. Gonna do my best to transfer it verbatim.
Ahem...
The exorbitant amount of unequality today stuns me. However, I see it may be necessary to continue the current trend of society. However, I wish to know the ultimate goal of it all. Where do we go from here? All I see are signs of regression, economies which have gone down the shitter, and our land, the world-leader in so many fields, has become so xenophobic as to inspire tears. However, it could be due to more coverage by the media. Either way, I don't see a unified global community ever taking shape, seeing as how man has always defined himself by those he likes least. Life breeds conflict, nay, life is conflict, and without strife, the world would be something it's not meant to be: perfect. Matters on a global scale are near impossible to deal with, so maybe it's best to leave our politicians to decide how to better their world. Why are those least qualified to lead most eager to? Do they believe that positions of power will make up for their lack of competence at life? What leads them to believe this? And most importantly, why do we let them? There are millions of people who reside in this country, why are they so easily influenced by a fucking flashing box? Damn these unanswerable questions. My goal, if I were to become filthy rich, would be to create a country where only those who I deemed intelligent and strong willed enough would combine like minds and develop things beneficial to mankind. Such things would include an alternative energy source, elimination of currency, and fireworks. Fireworks are cool, no matter how you look at them. They're as bright and loud as a war, but without the side effect of death.
[Insert island diagram here]
The island itself would in fact be built by incorporating the native topography of the island, thereby creating a "cave village" so to speak. It would be impeccably clean, and a model for places around the globe. We would develop an efficient recycling system and treat the surrounding forest as an ancient, rare, and valuable antique. It would be great. I think as a hive of bees sometimes. Well, a beehive that passes its messages to completely non-related species, such as wild boars or humpback whales. I'm scatterbrained, like Jenga when you lose. Thought collection occurs as in a crane game, I might get lucky and pick one up, but otherwise it's another quarter down the drinks. I've tried to block emotion because it's scary. It's difficult to deal with. I believe this is a problem that prevents my mingling and coupling with those of the fairer sex. The ones with big boobs who are not Chris Farley (RIP). There are waves, in a minute I'm a jumble of smiles, within 5 more I am a sulking pincushion. However, these momentary lapses give me insight to things I may not already realize and almost certainly cannot change. The sands of time continue shifting as we are left to fall helplessly into the cracks it creates. I think I've changed reasons why I like music, the sound itself is what hooked me before, but I now realize imagery is the main component in good music. If I can't get a decent image from a song, chances are I won't much care for it. This explains my love for Clutch, I just can't get enough of their obscenely surreal imagery. I'm the best person at putting myself down, anything I think of something to do, I realize there is something better out there already and it puts a damper on my state of mind. I scratch my head often. I think it's because my brain is allergic to thinking. I hate when people look at me, they should let me stay invisible along the wall as a chameleon, meaning no harm and getting in nobody's way. I like when people look at me, however, in a non-condescending manner. I am a human, a natural attention whore. This is why I believe we must have evolved from apes, they are just as loud and obnoxious as your average human. Therein lies the omnipresent life = confict. Well, I believe therein lies relief of stress, time to go back on the computer
[Insert chimp jacking off graphic]
Well, that was embarrassing. My way of thinking has not changed much, but my level of self-expression has (hopefully) improved from this. I do believe this was a stream-of-consciousness exercise, however.
Ahem...
The exorbitant amount of unequality today stuns me. However, I see it may be necessary to continue the current trend of society. However, I wish to know the ultimate goal of it all. Where do we go from here? All I see are signs of regression, economies which have gone down the shitter, and our land, the world-leader in so many fields, has become so xenophobic as to inspire tears. However, it could be due to more coverage by the media. Either way, I don't see a unified global community ever taking shape, seeing as how man has always defined himself by those he likes least. Life breeds conflict, nay, life is conflict, and without strife, the world would be something it's not meant to be: perfect. Matters on a global scale are near impossible to deal with, so maybe it's best to leave our politicians to decide how to better their world. Why are those least qualified to lead most eager to? Do they believe that positions of power will make up for their lack of competence at life? What leads them to believe this? And most importantly, why do we let them? There are millions of people who reside in this country, why are they so easily influenced by a fucking flashing box? Damn these unanswerable questions. My goal, if I were to become filthy rich, would be to create a country where only those who I deemed intelligent and strong willed enough would combine like minds and develop things beneficial to mankind. Such things would include an alternative energy source, elimination of currency, and fireworks. Fireworks are cool, no matter how you look at them. They're as bright and loud as a war, but without the side effect of death.
[Insert island diagram here]
The island itself would in fact be built by incorporating the native topography of the island, thereby creating a "cave village" so to speak. It would be impeccably clean, and a model for places around the globe. We would develop an efficient recycling system and treat the surrounding forest as an ancient, rare, and valuable antique. It would be great. I think as a hive of bees sometimes. Well, a beehive that passes its messages to completely non-related species, such as wild boars or humpback whales. I'm scatterbrained, like Jenga when you lose. Thought collection occurs as in a crane game, I might get lucky and pick one up, but otherwise it's another quarter down the drinks. I've tried to block emotion because it's scary. It's difficult to deal with. I believe this is a problem that prevents my mingling and coupling with those of the fairer sex. The ones with big boobs who are not Chris Farley (RIP). There are waves, in a minute I'm a jumble of smiles, within 5 more I am a sulking pincushion. However, these momentary lapses give me insight to things I may not already realize and almost certainly cannot change. The sands of time continue shifting as we are left to fall helplessly into the cracks it creates. I think I've changed reasons why I like music, the sound itself is what hooked me before, but I now realize imagery is the main component in good music. If I can't get a decent image from a song, chances are I won't much care for it. This explains my love for Clutch, I just can't get enough of their obscenely surreal imagery. I'm the best person at putting myself down, anything I think of something to do, I realize there is something better out there already and it puts a damper on my state of mind. I scratch my head often. I think it's because my brain is allergic to thinking. I hate when people look at me, they should let me stay invisible along the wall as a chameleon, meaning no harm and getting in nobody's way. I like when people look at me, however, in a non-condescending manner. I am a human, a natural attention whore. This is why I believe we must have evolved from apes, they are just as loud and obnoxious as your average human. Therein lies the omnipresent life = confict. Well, I believe therein lies relief of stress, time to go back on the computer
[Insert chimp jacking off graphic]
Well, that was embarrassing. My way of thinking has not changed much, but my level of self-expression has (hopefully) improved from this. I do believe this was a stream-of-consciousness exercise, however.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Desert Living (Part II)
Time to pick up where I left off (more than 6 months ago)
After reaching the great rural hillocks and forests of Sadie's hometown, we woke up and promptly began to pack. And pack. And pack some more. All in all there was a huge amount of things Sadie took with her, and being that she took some very large stuff (such as the queen bed and a couch) the truck filled up in no time. When all was said and done, me, her, her mom, her brother, and even her dad (whom she rarely sees) were loading stuff into the truck. We had to shift things about left and right, up and down and securely fasten all we could before taking off. It was a pretty brutal affair but in the end the team managed to pack it all in. After this grueling affair, Sadie's mom invited us over for dinner. I debated this invitation for the simple reason that Oklahoma City, the day's next destination, was a very, very long ways from Clarksville and the sooner we got on the road, the better. However, I figured this gave Sadie a chance to spend one final afternoon with her family, so we went and partook in the tasty meal (which was pasta I believe). Soon afterwards, we went back to get the truck and that's when disaster befell us. I was not, for the life of me, able to maneuver the damn thing back to the road. The problem was getting the truck out of her grandmother's field. You see, we had to back the damn thing in through the grass in order to park it in front of the house and load it up. The problem came with trying to back it out, and not because of the truck itself, but the trailer Sadie's vehicle was loaded onto. I tried for a solid hour, or even two to get it freed, but I could not do it. In the end we had to ask her dad to maneuver it out for us, as he had lots of experience with that kind of thing. Thankfully he didn't have a problem with it, and we got on the road well into the evening.
The journey through the rest of Tennessee was not problematic; clear skies and clear roads on into sunset. Even driving through Memphis was a relative breeze. We crashed through the border and began our incredibly long, tedious, and winding journey through Arkansas, battling a wicked storm front all the while. The beginnings of our Arkansas journey were nothing to write home about, but the storm, which hit shortly after passing through Little Rock was cause for concern. Visibility was poor. Lightning was frequent. Winds were high, and I was driving a damn moving van with a vehicle strapped to its ass. I pulled off the road a few times to regroup with Sadie, relieve myself, and regain my composure before setting off once again into the hellacious tempest. Eventually, after hours of mind numbing driving, we reached the Oklahoma border.
You may be tempted to think "oh, the border, OKC can't be too far off now, but let me tell you that's a huge pile of lies and fetid horse shit. It was dark, it was still storming, and the City was nowhere near the border. In fact, if you check a map, you will see it is damn near the center of the state. That meant a very large amount of continuous driving for us before we could finally rest our weary heads. We trucked and trucked and trucked on, with little noteworthy happening between our border crossing and destination reaching. I believe we both were suffering from sleep deprivation and highway hypnosis by the time we arrived, as all I could see was Sadie driving my car in front of me, swerving from time to time and bringing me to nearly soil myself every time. We had a pair of walkie talkies we began using when leaving Tennessee, but by this point of the drive they were long past dead and we relied on eye contact to keep us together. At least it wasn't hard for her to see the giant yellow Penske in the distance, even in the dead of night. We mercifully caught wind of an exit to a little known place called Oklahoma City due to the friendly guidance of a little green highway sign. I waved to it, and sped with all my might to the road, eventually finding the hotel with our life-saving beds waiting for our extremely tired selves. It was 5AM by that point, with a hotel checkout of 11AM. The cats were freed for a brief period as we checked into the hotel and I tried in vain to sleep what was left of the morning away. I managed at least an hour, possibly two, of restfulness, and fully awoke, somewhat ready to begin the next section of our odyssey.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Desert Living
It's been a long while since I've updated this here page so I guess I could start with the basics. The move went well. I only fucked up with the truck itself once, and with the trailer maybe 3 times. I saw a huge amount of the country in a span of only 4 days, although a lot of it was under cover of night. I had one very horrible drive, as well as 3 not-as-bad drives, which I shall now detail for my future amusement.
The Move:
Day 1
I woke up ass early on day one to grab the moving truck from the Penske rental center down the road. I was told the truck I received was the newest of all on the lot and, barring one side of the thing, it was in decent shape superficially. I signed the necessary papers, made some small talk with the shop owners, and drove the truck out to begin the arduous task of moving all of my amassed junk from one side of the country to the other. I parked the truck squarely in front of the apartment building, unrolled the ramp, and began lugging junk from point A to point B ceaselessly. You never realize how much junk you've amassed over the years until the fateful day comes in which you need to move all of it. My bedroom, big enough to house my bed and dresser (but not much else), during the task of moving soon took on the dimensions of a cavernous basement. I did not realize I had managed to shove so much into so few nooks and crannies, and the sheer volume of shit began to irk me, provoking me to outright toss the more useless trinkets and baubles into the garbage. Thankfully, I had the assistance of Jim and Nubs, as well as Sadie when loading the truck so it did not end up being as laborious as it could have been, but all in all it was the second worst part of the moving experience. Eventually, after much shoving and shifting, everything was loaded. I bid adieu to my friends, closed up the truck, and Sadie and I made our way back to the rental facility to pick up the trailer.
The car trailer (yes, it deserves its own paragraph):
When we left with the truck, our rental-master told us if we were back before noon they would be there to help us with hooking up the trailer. As unluck would have it, we did not arrive in time. We had to figure out how to finagle the damn thing onto the truck ourselves. We fucked it up once, and holy shit was it scary (though my car was going to end up smashed since the trailer popped off the hitch and started rolling down the slight gradient it was placed upon) but in the end we got it figured out and headed out on the first very long drive of the trip.
Day one took us from Pennsylvania all the way to Tennessee, much of it happening through the night. It was an outrageously long journey, but not especially difficult. Having Sadie in the front to help me stay entertained certainly was helpful. Eventually we made it to her cat-shit filled, somewhat dilapidated housing situation and promptly took our rest to prepare for one of the longest days of my entire life.
The car trailer (yes, it deserves its own paragraph):
When we left with the truck, our rental-master told us if we were back before noon they would be there to help us with hooking up the trailer. As unluck would have it, we did not arrive in time. We had to figure out how to finagle the damn thing onto the truck ourselves. We fucked it up once, and holy shit was it scary (though my car was going to end up smashed since the trailer popped off the hitch and started rolling down the slight gradient it was placed upon) but in the end we got it figured out and headed out on the first very long drive of the trip.
Day one took us from Pennsylvania all the way to Tennessee, much of it happening through the night. It was an outrageously long journey, but not especially difficult. Having Sadie in the front to help me stay entertained certainly was helpful. Eventually we made it to her cat-shit filled, somewhat dilapidated housing situation and promptly took our rest to prepare for one of the longest days of my entire life.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Westward and Houseward Bound
So great and mighty interfarts, it appears I've finally gotten myself a place to call my own (since the Hawthorne apartment was leased under Jim's name). It took awhile, but I'm thinking it will be worth it in the end. I hope it becomes a vacation destination for my friends out east, and I'm hoping for a few weeks a year spent with them in my place. I, of course, will be visiting them as well. There are some repairs which need made, some minor, others not so much. I'm pretty nervous about driving a truck with a trailer on it, but thousands do it every day so it must not be too tough. Just have to make sure I don't knock anyone off course.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Real Estate Woes and Waffling
Suffice to say it is difficult buying a house in Phoenix. I am fully qualified to own one, however I've yet to even get an offer accepted by any sellers. The issue hinges on the market crash and after effects. Investors are swooping in and buying up all the houses at my price point to flip them or rent them out. For a home buyer who just wants to live in a place, this presents difficulties. This being the case, I've decided that no matter what happens, house or no I'm planning on leaving the second week of October and staying in a furnished apartment till the one house we truly love falls into our lap.
On John's suggestion we visited Maricopa and though the area seems nice it's pretty far from Phoenix proper. Sadie is not much interested in living out there and I can't disagree with that. It's a brand new town, incorporated in 2003, and it doesn't have much in the way of amenities at the moment. I'm not saying it won't take off, but as of today there's not enough there to entice me to live there. Plus, it adds about an hour to the Havasu drive which is long enough to begin with.
The vacation was pretty great, minus the housing issues. I stayed at my grandparents' new place and reveled in its awesomeness. We swam in the lake, met herpes fish, and generally lazed about. I went to see Nickolas for his birthday party and watched him smash his face into the cake repeatedly. I also got to meet Michelle's new friends who have been, from what I hear, very helpful during her time of need. The drive up was even pleasant, as the scenery is just so different and hauntingly beautiful.
On John's suggestion we visited Maricopa and though the area seems nice it's pretty far from Phoenix proper. Sadie is not much interested in living out there and I can't disagree with that. It's a brand new town, incorporated in 2003, and it doesn't have much in the way of amenities at the moment. I'm not saying it won't take off, but as of today there's not enough there to entice me to live there. Plus, it adds about an hour to the Havasu drive which is long enough to begin with.
The vacation was pretty great, minus the housing issues. I stayed at my grandparents' new place and reveled in its awesomeness. We swam in the lake, met herpes fish, and generally lazed about. I went to see Nickolas for his birthday party and watched him smash his face into the cake repeatedly. I also got to meet Michelle's new friends who have been, from what I hear, very helpful during her time of need. The drive up was even pleasant, as the scenery is just so different and hauntingly beautiful.
We were able to look at a few more houses on Friday before we left, but I didn't feel great about either of them. I had felt kind of worn down from the previous disappointments. In the end it turned out my feeling was correct.
Sadie and I had a bit of a tearful goodbye at the airport, however we knew and still know the future involves being together so there is no reason to be sad.
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Sunset over Allegheny
I am getting excited. Only a few more weeks before the yearly vacation down south, and this year, plans to seek out a more permanent domicile. This is going to be a helluva ride.
I talked to my agent yesterday and somewhat hammered out the details of my visit. I'm gonna line up a few places for visitation, a few awesome places I would not mind inhabiting. I've got plans, ideas, and fun things in mind and lined up for the ready. I've got visions of getting a little truck, a trailer, and a jet ski/dune buggy/boat. I've got visions of uprooting any stupid trees, killing any stupid grass, and installing a big motherfucker of a saguaro cactus. I've got visions of lounging around in a large pool, sipping alcoholic drinks, and peeing liberally.
My great white hope hinges on businesses steering clear of any properties I've got my eye on to give me a fighting chance. I'm hoping for a quick, clean sweep. I'm tempted to put an offer in on one house before even visiting it in person, however I feel that would be too much of a gamble seeing as I'd be stuck there for a few years in case there are any issues. Thankfully, for every house that I like which disappears off the market, it seems two crop up to take its place. I'm going to take a bunch of pictures, compare some strengths and weaknesses, and if I'm lucky, be able to put in an offer before the end of the first day of searching.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Absurdly simple? Don't bet on it.
It never ceases to amaze me the ridiculous things people want information about. I suppose it true that my interests, seen by others, may seem as ridiculous as theirs do to me. It's all about capitalizing on those interests, however ridiculous they may seem, and giving the people what they want. That is how business is born.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)