Party at my place tomorrow night

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there's already enough to go around.

these moments of my life I totally live for. rehashing moments of my life with others only to return home for introspection. I keep these artifacts around for precisely these reasons. my books, cds, photos, clothes, whatever. fun old memories. I'm going crazy with the bitTorrent downloading albums of people I hadn't thought of since such and such era of my life.

My buddy Austin wanted me to give a testimonial of my life, and I'm having trouble. In particular the parts where the world came to intervene on my behalf. So much of the care and concern I feel for the défavorisés du monde stems from those days. Perhaps a little of the apathy as well

I had a wonderful night. a near perfect meld of old friends with new blood. Sarah Bard's band, Manhatta's last show. It was honestly pretty sad to see it all happening in front of me, knowing good and well that it wasn't happening again the same way. They trained, practiced all for the moment we all shared. Now we've only got memories to look forward to.

I trained a guy in the taxi today. Pretty fucking cool. I'm a big fan of keeping people I know in jobs. In this kill or be killed world, I want to make sure that you're able to bottomfeed at your own leisure.

You'll never meet your belle at the bar. mine's underage.

Shaun Cobble is probably one of the people I've known the longest in this town. I think he got it tonight. I'm here for the long haul, and I'm making something of myself. we laughed about this time 12 years ago, when I was 13 and I maced a kid for attacking me. His dad came in and yelled at me like he was going to sue. didn't happen, we knew the dude was a douche and after everything, we laugh about it now, nearly half my life later.

This town never killed me like I thought it would. in fact it's done all it could to embrace me. I can't believe how much it really does strengthen me ten thousand times over.

sauve qui peut

Long time no postin'.

So I never moved out west, it'll still be there when I'm ready for it.

I'm back in school making the final push to get my ass out of there.

Lately, I've been getting some decent fire eating gigs and some more potentials for the future - thus I've been trying to stay away from keeping a straight job until absolutely necessary.

gift wishlist

Straight razor shaving kit.

A stainless steel straight razor, although carbon steel would be just fine

a guitar strap, a capo, and some picks

a collection of Bertolt Brecht plays - this one will work (google: 080213159X)

these shoes size 10.5

That's it. please, no shirts, sweaters, or coats. Socks and underwear should be black or at least dark colors.

Art, poems, anecdotes, war stories, and captured memories are always appreciated.

there but for the grace of god go I

I guess you could say I'm growing closer to being content. I got a volunteer/paid substitute gig teaching English to refugees locally. I figure it's a great way to get my feet wet before doing the same elsewhere. I'm going to have to update my collared shirt wardrobe and remember to shave more often, but it'll work itself out I'm sure. I bet I have enough to work with for the first few weeks.

right now I'm going to watch a dl'd copy of menace II society and do some pushups and practice some juggling.

voleur de la merde

I just emailed a few people in the SF bay for a place to hang my head when I get out there. Hopefully someone bites.

this may be my new streetcorner if all goes well. Fulton at Stanyan (I have no idea where to credit the artist)

PS. Prank calls and hate mail tomorrow night!

Seigniorage

I think I'm a target for peoples' aggression as of late - something in the cosmos has shifted my way. First the incident a month ago with the Bellarmine students, and now I nearly get into an altercation at the Pour Haus Saturday night. Suffice it to say that I think that people become further angered the more that you remain calm and tell them to fuck off than if you got right in their faces. I couldn't believe the amount of aggression people seem to have regarding the smallest little things. This guy got mad at me for not tapping the bartender on the shoulder to get his attention. I said "the guy looks busy", he called me a fag, so I called him an asshole and gave him the finger. He got super fucking mad. After that he just flew off the handle and began making threats - "I'm gonna be waiting for you out in the parking lot" and the like. It was 11:30 and he was paying his tab. I probably shouldn't have laughed in his face, but I did. I told him that I was closing the bar at 4am because I was going to be singing Karaoke with my friends until then, so he'd be waiting a good four hours to confront my posse rollin' deep. He eventually walked off and talked with his girlfriend for a minute but kept staring at me, I noticed it and we locked eyes, he then rushed over and again started with the threats. He said he was going to choke me and reached out his hand - that's when my buddy Tim grabbed him from across the shoulder and took him to the ground. This guy was a big motherfucker, but I'm sure Tim was stronger, plus there was at least 10 of us there ready to bust ass if it came to it. The guy freaked out, and his girlfriend (wife?) and their friends hauled him outside. The bartender knows him, so I guess she was at first really confused, but everyone came forward to my defense and said the guy was just acting like a douchebag and was the only one making all the threats. It ended the way it should have. I'm sure the guy was humiliated by the end of it all, and I just sang my tunes with my crew for the rest of the night.

I got lucky tonight, it's always nice when that happens. In the long run, I never have to wait too long, but it's the uncertainty that makes it such a special occasion when it arrives.

caveat emptor:

buy my snake oil

give me some money up front so I can free it from a nigerian bank

if you give now, christ will save a spot for you in his kingdom

the Man-Eating Chicken is probably a man eating chicken

three card monte is a fair game

rosie palm and her five palm reading sisters have pinpointed your fate

if the vat kool-aid already has cyanide in it, nobody'll care if you pee in it first