The Shame

I've been playing on a friend's recreational indoor soccer team at Break Away Sports in Fitchburg. Last night was the last game of the season and boy-howdy was it a rough game. We lost 13 to 2. Now, before you all go on about how terrible a team we were, I was the only person on the team who had actually played soccer before. I was their "ringer" (Ha! I'm so out of practice, I play soccer worse than I play drums at this point.)

I started playing with them four weeks ago on a night when a bunch of their team members were on vacation, so I missed the games when they played teams that were more on their level of competition. I did have 2 assists, which bests my old soccer record of only one in my entire career as a U-14 and J.V. soccer player. My position was left Defender, exclusively, so I didn't really get much action. On this team, I wound up playing more of a mid-fielder position which was a lot more running. I took three shots. Two were blocked and one went wide. Oh well. For $60.00 I can sign up for their fall league as an independant player and they'll put me on a team that's in need of a strong D/power Mid.

Ahhh... recreation.

In other news. Bombs are falling in the mid-East. People are dying. Shakira is performing somewhere to a bunch of people with a very limited taste in music.

I put a new three-way pick-up switch in my guitar last night. I'm kinda amazed that I got the wiring right. After that, I put on some new chrome knobs to replace the one chrome knob and the one plastic, numbered knob and also glued some toothpicks into the holes in the input jack plate. I've got to file the toothpicks off tonight and then I can screw the plate back on and not worry about screws falling out and my input jack falling off.

It's got me thinking that I would like to purchase another cheap guitar, take the finish off and then put my own finish on it. We'll see if I get around to that.

I also got a new cable for my camera. I don't have software at home to download the images but I think I can do it at work. I just need to remember to bring it in with me. Then you all will get to experience the wonders of Madison life as captured by yours truly.

Busy as a bee

I put in the effort and got the damn resumes sent off for the new jobs. Maybe I'll get one.

Shit.

I'm totally fed up with my jobs right now.

I'm totally fed up with this damn heat.

My name is now, unofficially, J. C. Blev.!

I am your savior.

Savior from the whirpool vortex above a storm drain you accidentally slip into while stumbling down the street on the biggest trip of your life and there's a hurricane a'blowin'.

See what I was talking about?

Okay, I just want to say that it was a big-ass storm.

That out of the way...

So yeah... I never got around to finishing this post.

Too busy I guess.

"Nothing's ever good enough for you"

So it started raining about 20 minutes ago. I stepped outside for a cigarette and stood under an entryway roof thing-y and by the time my cigarette was gone, my shoe and one pant leg were soaked from the wind blowing sheets of rain seven feet in. With it slowing down now, I think that I may attempt to procure some gustatory delights from the nearby gas station for lunch.

That said (and I love thunderstorms) it is time to talk some more about the band.

Joe thinks that we should hold off on new material. Translation: I don't want to write more lyrics right now. He want's to focus on the songs we have, polish them up and then get our stage show worked out (the one with the sync-ed video and the additional music tracks pumped through the PA.) I can agree with that to a point. I really want to play a few shows and get our 'songbook' expanded to a full 30 songs.

I honestly think, though, that if we (and more specifically, me) keep focusing on the songs we have, I'll end up not working out new material. It's just like that drawing I have on one of my journal-binders where this guy is holding a baby that's holding a sign that says, "Nothing's Ever Good Enough for You." (Line from a Radiohead song I was listening to in the library at MSU one fair afterknoon while drinking coffee and writing crap.)

I'm gunna get lunch now.

Alright, that's just not funny

I don't know if anybody is aware of this, but the humble beginnings of the Onion, Online Satire "Newspaper", was actually a printed document circulated in the fair and culturally diverse city of Madison, WI. We used to pick up copies of the Onion and leave them in the Video Room for browsing and comedic uplifting during our droll days in high school. So all of ya'll that think it's an online thing can eat it. We had it first, before it was purchased by Disney, moved to New York, and put on the web. Believe me, it's way more entertaining in print as a coffee shop/lunch by yourself read than it ever could be at your desk on a monitor.

Last week they ran yet another 'best of' with my personal favorite "Christ Returns to NBA."

So this article seemed to be appropriate. 'MidWest' Discovered Between East, West Coasts.

Onto other things:
Yes, it was my birthday on Sunday. I didn't do anything too exciting. Had a few beers, sat and watched some TV, had a steak for dinner.

While driving to work this morning, I saw a sign that said, "ASC" and thought that it might have something to do with Dean. Some evil company on Atwood Ave. that harbors investigative research demons or something of that nature, seeking the Philosophers Stone.

There was a bit of an argument at work this morning which was a long time coming. One of my asst. Mgrs handed it to this girl who's almost always in Bitch Mode. It was nice. Very very nice. Luk-a-Guine-Glick-a-glick-a-guill-guh.

Excuse me, Sir.

So everyone thinks that the myspace thing is lame. I don't seem to recall asking your opinions. Maybe then, I should have deactivated the comments on that post. (can I do that?)

Alright. Criticism noted, and then promptly ignored. We are going for the 16 year old hotties as our base market. Joe said something about talking to his buddy about holding the page for an offical band site. That would be a better thing for us anyway.

Regardless, I can't help but want to say things like, if you think myspace sucks, I can't agree more with you, but it's a way for people to check out our music (if we ever get it up on the site) and pictures (again, with the same issue) that only requires minimal work. We aren't asking you to get your own myspace account, in fact, we don't want you to. Just check it out when I tell you to (when there is something new posted to inspect) and ignore it like the rest of myspace (like I do.)

Is that cool or should I take a poll? All those in favor of my band not having a myspace page raise your hand. Now promptly go form you own band and not put up a myspace page.

(sorry, I'm a little grouchy today.)

In other band related news:

Our first practice in the new rehearsal space (the barn) was spectacular. The sound in there is good. Joe sang through his 100w amp and I sang through his 15w amp and still out sang him. He needs to learn how to project his singing voice. Danny brought his keyboard playing friend for an "audition." I wasn't pleased about that but it worked itself out. The poor guy was in over his head. I was trying to tell him chords and notes that I was playing and he had no idea what I was talking about. Oh well. He seemed like a nice enough guy but I would have liked to have had a discussion with the four members of the band about it before we had him show up.


In other non-band related news:

My friend Liz told me to just apply at epic systems for several positions. They'll put me where they want me, if they want me, which they will. She said they administer this test during one of the interviews with puzzles. Frickin' Sweet!!! She also said that they ask a lot of open-ended questions like, "Tell me about a time that you felt like you had accomplished something," or, "What did you picture yourself doing as an adult when you were still a kid?" I'm hoping that my next interview includes the question, "Where do you see yourself in five years?" Because I can then reply, "Celebrating the five year anniversary of you asking me this question!"

Two small things

First off, I wish this 'big empty' would just go away.

Secondly, the website is up.

Where the i Divides

Joe put all of the info up. He asked me to put some mp3's onto a CD for him so he could upload our demos. He has copies of all of our songs on CD's and he has our stuff on his ipod. I asked him if he didn't know how to rip a CD and he said he'd ask his wife to do it.

If he reads this he'll be angry with me and let me know about it at practice.

Actually, third thing.

We have a practice space in Madison... finally. Our inagural practice is tomorrow. I'm very excited and hope that this will be the first of many rehearsals and writing sessions to come in this space. Thank you Joe and Rachel for letting us use your facilities.

Drowning in Humidity

It's really humid in Madison right now. Yuck.

I think that if I go to sleep tonight I'll not wake up, only because I've drown in a pool of my own sweat... that or maybe it'll be saliva.

Big times fast aproach. Band meeting tomorrow. We will discuss the new (potential) practice space at my friends farm. It'll be in their barn so we'll probably take a trip out there to scope the place out. I've got two new songs that have arangement issues. I don't know how to put them together. The problem is that I have begun to think that the music I write is to predictable and formulaic. I don't really know how to go about putting parts into place and I have decided that I'm going to DEMAND from my bandmates that they give weighty suggestions.

We'll see how it pans out. And I'm totally stoked about soccer on friday night. I'm going to be so exhausted.

Story from the Bus

I first off would like to say that I have a real hard time writing the word bus. I really, really, really want to spell it buss, but that's just wrong.

I was awaiting my new bus in Billings, Montana at 12:45 A.M. with a bunch of other freaks and was recalling the time I had to stand there for four hours waiting to get on a bus to Bozeman, MT. There was a woman who was an old hippy... I think that I've posted about this one... and she was real creapy like. So I've adopted a policy that I don't talk to people on the bus or at the bus stations (unless I absolutely have to.)

That doesn't always work the way you want it to though. Case in point. I was standing in the Billings depot and I noticed a kid with a t-shirt that had a Fullmetal Alchemist symbol on the back and a Blood Seal on the front. I thought it was funny that he had that t-shirt on. Then I realized that it was sad that I recognized the symbols.

Anyway. I went outside to smoke cigarettes and stay away from the people, so I put on my big headphones (they look like earmuffs) and listened to music as I was puffin' away. People would mill in and out of the depot and whatever and it was fine. I avoided eye contact, kept to myself and listened to my music. But then this kid I spotted earlier comes walking out. He starts talking to some guy that was on the bus with us once I got on in Livingston. That guy went inside or something so the kid wandered over to me and started talking. I couldn't hear a word he was saying because I had my headphones on, and they're big so it's obvious that I'm listeneing to music. I let him go for a little bit and then finally pull of the headphons to hear what he's talking about. Apparently the sight on the gun for the Area 51 video game was all askew. Ha! I then asked him about the t-shirt, knowing full well that I was getting into trouble but I kinda wanted to see where it would go. He started talking crazy about the cartoon and I said that I didn't watch it, I just read the comics. At that point he started talking about some character on a keychain that was attached to his belt and I lost interest. I think he caught on (through my subtle hints that I didn't care) and just wandered away.

Thar be uh store-iee for tha ages.

back from the high plains

I am pushing my way through the first day back at the jobs. Yuck. Being unemployed isn't fun but taking a vacation that last more than a few days and a weekend is worse once it's over.

I have yet to forget the feeling of sitting on 2nd street outside the coffee shop in the afterknoon, watching the clouds and the people and the mountains and not worrying about getting anything done. I was able to put that off over the weekend after I got back to WI by having relatives in town for the Brewers/Cubs game in Milwaukee. I relaxed yesterday by napping and just milling around.

It's all being washed away now. Once I'm done with work today, it completes the first phase of the routine. Then it's off to the gym for the first workout since I've gotten home. I did purchase a guest pass to a gym in Montana for one day and got an approximate workout in during my vacation but it's mostly like being fresh from two weeks off.

Sorry I've been gone. It wouldn't really matter that much anyway. I've been busy with my obsession and I kinda don't feel like I've got much to post/say these days. I don't take the time to really get into the more insightful side of my brain (as if there is one) at work while I'm posting this. My "roommates" keep threatening to get a high-speed connection at the house but I'll believe that when I have an ethernet connection in my room.

I'll post some pieces about the bus trip. The stories aren't that great but riding the bus is always a marathon in patience and endurance. And maybe a few pictures of the new scars.

The Third of July

Hey yeah, I'm out of town. Not much access to a computer to post and keep you two faithful readers (I'll work on getting rid of that faith of yours) up to date on the boredom that is my life.

Montana is home. I'm home, for now.

Be back next week to the mundane.

Chunky sections of the songs

When you put youself on the line to do something that is above the calling of the average person, you end up getting into a realm of obsession that tends to block out all else that fails to serve the obsession.

Danger Twin #2 sent me some text messages on Saturyday asking if I was still alive. Sure I'm still alive. I'm just not alive for sitting in pubs consuming shot after shot of "Jame-o".

Our rehearsal/audition on Saturday was spectacular. (filled with spectacle) The new drummer is offically our new drummer. His skill are a little rusty since he doesn't own his own kit and doesn't have a viable practice space, but he was very interested in working out drum parts that are unique for each song. No repetition of a beat. I'm very excited about that. I just need to rope him in for certain chuncky sections of the songs. What is a chuncky section of a song you ask? Well, I glad you asked. (about that thing, cause what I'd like to do is sing.)

A chunky section of a song is where the music escalates from a rather subdued and "pistol eating vib-ey" state into lots and lots of distortion/feedback noise/chaos ala the "Everybody solo" from a certain 50's pop song parody by a certain band. It's what I'm fast learning is a certain esthetic that I use in my songcraft to explore the less refinied sections of my brain. Much like an Alabama Frankenstein, "Fire Bad, Ya'll," where the ability to take in stimuli lacks the controlled restraint and supression from years of being raised in the Christian Sub-culture in it's expression coming out the other side.

It generally goes like this. "It needs more distortion. It needs more compression. Let's throw in some vibrato. How 'bout some delay? Second pass through distortion would be good now. I wonder what it would sound like with wah? No, no wah is needed." Then I'm usually satisfied with the sound of raw sadness screaching out of my amp. It's not processed. It's not subdued, it's at the point where everything fell apart.

There's a lot more exploring that I need to do in order to wrap my fingers around the neck of my muse. It ain't getting away that easy.

I would also like to apologize for the lack of excitement on my blog as of late. I've been indulging myself with lots of day to day boring stories that amuse me. I haven't found myself really being to engaged by the outside world as of late. Just obsessed with the band, the music, the hope for a better tomorrow and politics or ire-evoking current event ranting doesn't seem to really get us anywhere.

By the time we decide to do something about it, it'll be too late.

Excuse me sir

We have a song called "Excuse Me Sir (can I have back my soul)" that has an intro of just a guitar. I play an arpeggio and then hit some harmonics let it ring with delay and then repeat with a differnt note in the arpeggio. It's been in my head the last few days, making me think of something distant, but in a box. A scene of a memory burned into my brain as a moment in which to pause and reflect.

Joe has had the song "Jerkwater" stuck in his head for the last two days. It kinda got me thinking about where the working title of that song came from. My sister and I were visiting my other sister in the Evergreen/Conifer area of Colorado. Nell had taken time off and flew up to visit her and I happened to have spring break that week so I drove down. We stayed with her at the camp she was working at, with her gracious roommate. (Becky's house was being de-skunk-funked so she was staying with another single woman in her house on the grounds.) Becky had work she had to do and Nell and I went up to some ski hill whose name escapes me, Breckenridge that's it, to see an old roommate of hers when she lived in Leadville. We drove my car up there and met him and he had her old half-dog/half-wolf with him. Nell was happy/sad to see Luna. She was a pretty dog but she had gotten fat in her time with her new owner. We hit the slopes for some snowboarding after some brew and food in the town and on the drive back, Nell pulled out this cd that she had, which was of a band called "Freakwater." The songs were catchy and the lyrics were sometimes outstandingly funny.

I've had in my head from time to time the gist of one of those songs and it's always reminded me of that time that we were driving out of Breckenridge back to Evergreen (through South Park, no crappy I-70 for us, we're bon-a-fide Rocky Mountain Residents!) (yes, it's the South Park from the stupid show. One of the creators of that show grew up in Conifer and the kids from S. Park were snotty, over the pass types. But, S. Park is also the name of the valley that the town resides in. We drove through the valley, not the actual town, we had better things to do.) Somehow, over time, I had gotten the name of the band crossed with the term Jerkwater and it worked it's way into my working vocabulary. "Fuck this Jerkwater town, I'm going home." "Shut up you lousy, jerkwater hick!"

And that's a story that'll never get on VH1's Storytellers. Amen.

New guitar case

I was searching online for custom guitar cases yestarday evening at work and didn't find anything that really struck my fancy. Everything is in the vein of molded plastics or plywood covered in fake leather or tweed. I don't think that it's a very diverse market at this point. I mean, seriously, who is not going to shit their panties when they see Jewel's handmade, beautifully detailed, $1,000.00, custom guitar case and then, after cleaning up their mess, hop online and see that they can get one for their own Ovation piece of shit guitar for a mere $200 (less detail in the inlays, of course.)

I spent last night cutting up foam for the interior. I've got to figure out an easy way to cut out the space for the guitar and the pick case. I also filled in all the holes with wood putty and decided to wait till tonight to sand it down again before applying the stain and then a first coat of polyeurathane (I think that's how it's spelled). After that, it's just a matter of insetting the hinges, attaching the hardware, and finishing the foam cutting/attaching the padding and fabric and I'll be done with the prototype. I've got an order from my sister in California for her acoustic guitar already. I also want to make one for my electric guitar since the case I have is in shambles. When I pick it up, invariably, I lose a pick or two, and the fake brass plastic trim is falling off. I does have a sweet Misfits sticker on it though. I hate the Misfits.

Today is also my sister's birthday. She sent me a text this morning saying that the leader of her band, or her old band, Yo Vee, kicked her out. I don't know what to say about that. I think that they will lose an important part of their sound, and by that I mean the interplay of my sister's voice with the lead singer. Their bass player quit last fall/winter to start his own project. I thought he was an important factor to their sound as well.

I take my sister's side. I told her to take it as an opportunity to get her ass out of this musical rut and start working on her own songs, her own sound. If she really wants it, it's there for her to take.

I've got to get back to work.

Prediction

I know that this is not funny for everyone else but eat it.

I have seen this man from time to time getting on the bus in the mornings while I'm driving to work. Not anything to remember about him. Just another dude getting on the bus to go to work. I didn't even start to notice him until a few weeks ago when I was walking on the square and saw this man scurry-ing to get his... well actually, it was more like waddle-ing... to get his ass on the bus before it pulled away and made him wait for the next one (which I believe was only a fifteen minute wait.) It was delightfully amusing for me to watch this man so uncoordinatedly propel himself that I made a mental note to post about it, but I felt guilty about finding it funny, and then I felt that all three readers would be offended, and then I thought that it was just downright mean. ... Screw that shit! Screw you for thinking I can't laugh at someone who looks funny running, albeit due to morbid obesity.

So I did post the story about it. And you know, it's not interesting for me to tell it and I'm certain you were bored reading it. I should have kept that little gem to myself.

But yeah, now I see him all the time and I can't help but laugh a little, on the inside anyway.

How bout this one instead.

I was waiting for my ride yesterday afterknoon (lousy Truck is in the shop again for the same lack of fuel to the carborator problem that was supposed to be fixed by the new fuel filter/new feul pump that was put in last month) and I saw about twenty squirrels running around on the capitol lawn. It made my day to watch them scamper and chase each other from tree to tree.

Okay? Better?

Now. I am working on a case for my $40.00, 1/2-size, acoustic, nylon string guitar. It's essentially a prototype for the case I'm going to make for my electric. The beauty of it is that I can probably crank out ten cases and sell them as hand-built custom guitar cases. $200 a pop and pretty soon (ten years from now,) I've got some extra cash to spend on hash. But then those squirrels will just end up stealing them and using them for sleds.

'I don't know' anymore

I've found that things I knew are slipping away. It saddens me, scares me. T-rex went to Tomah to visit on Friday and he told me the next evening that it sucked to see that his old high school friends were almost exclusively people he had nothing in common with. I see that myself. I occasionally run into old friends from highschool and we have nothing to say to each other. I understand why, loss of a common activity/daily ritual involving interaction, and I don't really care about that, but it is the changing that I am a little unsettled by.

I'm staring down the long barrel of this week before I get on a bus and read a U2 biography and a textbook on recording technology. I'm not sure I want to go. It up-ends my daily/weekly routine and puts me in a situation that has lots of unknown variables. After yesterday afterknoon in Chicago, I don't know if I'm really up for lots of unknown variables. (Kristin made Travis and I go to this re-sale shop up in the "gay" district. It wasn't exactly where I see myself 'being.')

My friend is moving next weekend to Minnesota. She's Travis' roommate and I've known her since the Barn Daze. Her going away party was on Saturday night and it was fun but there was a moment of sadness too. I could see us moving into different currents again and I didn't like the thought of that. I don't like the feel of that, like I've been moving in disjointed currents for a long time, spreading myself thin, and there are too many people I want to keep abreast with, too many people I feel I need to give my valuable time to, undeserved-ly in those cases (mostly), and what of the giant bluff I front? When do actually get to put that to the test? (huh, Kristin? are you calling me on it?)

But...

Such is the nature of this. This, "I don't know," anymore. I can't know. To know is to see more than is allowed without paying a price. Probably an arm or a leg, or both.

Just wait. (with bated breath)

Fighting with rubberbands and bandanas

I've had four conversations with four people in the last three days that have been the highlight of each day and somehow I've managed to use those discourses in a way that keeps me going.

(You can throw rocks)

I called Kristin to make plans for going to Chicago to be a guest on her radio program. Travis and I are planning on making a day of it. I know Kristin will be singing (fiona apple) inside when she reads this. We talked about a lot of things but talking to her is always a good thing. She knows how to ask the questions and help me not only analyze my motives, but also understand my progress.

(From your house of glass)

I ran into my bosses daughter on the sidewalk on the way to work. She works a scant few blocks away from each job and takes the bus so sometimes I see her when I'm walking to/from one of my jobs. She bought me a scone and we chatted about stuff. She really encouraged me to apply for a job at Epic saying that she thought it would be a perfect fit for me (less the longer commute, and if anyone knows about long commutes, Clyde Park, MT to Big Sky, MT is about as long and as beautiful a commute that anyone would want. 70 miles one way, over a pass and through a long, winding canyon.) She should know since she worked there as an assistant for the CEO of the company. (Great reference to put on the resume, too.)

(It's no skin off of my ass)

Last night I talked to Travis about the plans to go to Chicago, my frustration with my desire to sabatoge the band and move back to Montana by accusing Joe and him of not caring enough about the band, and what I've been working on in light of our business plans for the summer. All in all, I need to spend time with Travis in order to keep myself focused on the reason why I think this band is worth it above any other band I could be a part of.

(My sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet ass)

This morning I ran into a woman at the coffee shop who I used to see on a more regular basis when I would hang out there in the afterknoons in my un-employed days last spring. She's an artist and she and I were catching up a little bit. She asked me if I was still thinking about law school and I said no. She then went on to tell me I was too nice to be an Attorney. I think it was more my inability to take a side in an argument that wasn't contrary to everyone else's. "Client? What client? They're both guilty... if being sexy is a CRIME!"

What? Oh, wait, so she gave me this book about procrastinating, being a pro artist, and said that I should read it. I started reading it and there was too many things that I wanted to put up on this site. I stopped myself from doing that. If you wanted to know any of the insightful stuff I gleaned today, you would be elsewhere.

So then, while tracking down some dude (according to the documents I have to serve upon him, he isn't good at keeping spoken contract agreements) I kept thinking that I was wasting time trying to find this guy and I should be working on my music. Sum of the story, I'm impatient and scatterbrained.

Speaking of which, Thom Yorke is in the works of a solo album.

Tolerance and Understanding

"This is a song I wrote about tolerance and undersanding..."

I watched a caterpiller change into a butterfly today
(She watched a caterpiller change into a butterfly today.)
And you can throw rocks from you house of glass, ain't no skin off of my ass
Ain't no skin off of my ass
(Ain't no skin off of my ass)
Spoken:
People, don't look at each other as black and white,
look at each other as light and dark,
Be sensitive today.

And YOU CAN THROW ROCKS FROM YOUR HOUSE OF GLASS!!!
It's No skin off of my ASS!
My Sweet Ass!!!
My Sweet Ass!!!
My Sweet Ass!!!
I LOVE MY ASS!!!!

my sweet sweet sweet sweet sweet ass.

(I love Home Movies.)

Big ol' crybaby

I was listening to Cloud Cult last night on my way home from the gym and about broke down into tears. Something about these lines:

It's the thoughts that you feed.
It's the habits you need.
It's the things that you don't think that you're seeing (When you're really seeing).
It's your tongue in my mouth.
It's the things that we're too scared to talk about.
It's the feeling that you're dreaming (But you're not really dreaming).
It's the feeling that you're falling (But there's a fine line between falling and flying).
It's the feeling that you've lost it (Why don't you get it?)
That man jumped out the window (Come back in the window).

Running with the theme of the last post and all...

Then I was watching the Series Finale of Home Movies. Just about started crying again. It's got way to many memories attached to it. Graduating. Having Kristin watch it on the replay at 3am. Just sitting there realizing that it was over. I started watching that show my first year in Montana. It was over my last year in Montana.

BUT...

I ran into my bosses daughter this morning. She and I chatted over a scone at the farmers market. She said that I should apply for the job with epic. I'd make more money, have benefits that are better than a flexible schedule. I could afford a real amp. I could afford a practice space. I could afford a G5 and other assorted recording studio type hardware. I'll give it some time and mull it over for once I get back from my escape into the realms of temporary homelands. (It was a good book but also just a dry read. It's effect was similar to reading the Lord of the Rings. All I want to do after I read those books is just get in my truck and drive. I don't care where, just far. Off to the petrified forest in AZ, or up to AK, or just to Black River Harbor.)

Someday. Someday soon.

More musings from the post hangover

I learned a new word. Skototropism. I really like that word.

I have ideas spinning in my head. The Isthmus is running their "best of Madison" again. I felt like voting but decided it didn't matter one way or the other. Most of the time I don't even care.

Favorite place to buy coffee? Coffee Crossing isn't even in Madison. Flavorite place to Ski? Big Sky. Favorite place to see outdoor shows? Pine Creek. I'm not meant to be here in Madison.

Skototropism.

(There's the link. Sheesh. Learn to do your own legwork. Lazy lazy lazy.)

Piss an Vin

I'm just a bit on the angry side of a moment. Got wrapped up in my old ways on saturday night. Went out for a few beers with Andy's brother and his old roommate and Dave's old girlfriend. That was good and well. Five beers (Murphy's, Black & Tan, Harp, Bell's Oberon x2) in four hours, quick talking, one whole pack of cigarettes and then some. (Camel light Wides, Winston lights) and a stroll around the downtown. It was kind of raining on and off. Smoking wasn't that big of a deal since there was a stoop at the Irish and we didn't have to stand in the rain. (Madison thinks it's cool because it thinks that California is cool and it has a smoking ban just like California.) So, back at James', his roommates get back from some party and then his other roommate gets back from Portage (at like 4am) with a mostly full bottle of Jack Daniels. We proceed to pass the bottle around and I end up getting piss drunk to the point of madness. I stumble off to my truck, which is in a parking ramp and plant myself in the seat and lock the door and wait for the deeds to begin. I don't remember how many times I crawled out of my truck to vomit behind the SUV I was parked next to, but there was a sweetly sickening pool of stomach bile and sadness waiting for someone to find sometime later that day. I went home a nine. Slept all day. Watched TV in the evening. Went to bed. Still feel like shit for allowing myself to go back to that. I don't binge drink anymore. (Yeah I don't.)

On the flipside, I haven't had a cigarette since Saturday. They smell horrible to me now. God bless the two day hangover.

Another stupid Dream

I was out last evening with friends on state street and I got home early this morning. It was about 4 am when I woke up and realized that the segment of my dream where I was in a bathroom was my bladder dreaming of waking me up. So there was a need to take care of, and I also swigged down some more water with the dose of Vitamin I that I would've needed in the morning anyway. So... I had a can of Redbull and that always gives me nightmares these days (or so it seems) and I was having this dream. I was at a house party and there were a bunch of big men hanging wearing Hip Hop Apparel and it turned into huge brawl, a rumble if you will, so I bolted.

I remember having my keys in my hand which I assume meant I was walking to my truck but instead I was walking back to my hotel room. There were other people fleeing the fight at the party too and we were heading up this hill but the hill started to erode and I had to climb up this plastic edging to get up to solid ground.

In the hotel there were people tearing around the place, because the fight had spread and there were just people everywhere kickin' the shit out of each other so I ducked into my room. In my room was my friend Tom and his dog "Freckles" (Freckles is crazy, he was abandoned as a puppy was abused a lot and he gets really vicious when people leave Tom's house or when they smell like booze.) and Tragic Shisler was there too. So we are in this room and this black dog, much like a cross of a Pit Bull and a Rotwieller, comes charging through the screen door attacking Freckles and I just dive right in, pulling them apart and getting bit up by the black dog. These Hispanic dudes come walking up to the door and it turns out it's there dog so I'm shoving it out the door with a "get this thing the fuck out of here" deal and I shut the door.

I woke up after that.

How's that for inspiration? Huh?

Early Start to the Day

I had this moment of glee this morning as I pulled into the coffee shop parking lot. On the front page of the WI State Journal is this wonderful photo of some children in a garden. But the Headline was what made me laugh. "I'm all for saving the environment," but that's just taking it a little to far. Jesus was way more political than you.

I worked out the mix of Joe's vocals on "I'm an American" last night. It was a pain realizing that I need to construct an isolation booth and get some sweet headphones that don't allow sound to escape. I kept hearing this ring from the drum track he was listening to through them mixed in with his vocal part. It's indiscernable once the rest of the music is mixed in but it keeps me from running compression on that track. Anyway. It translated into a lot of cleanup between phrases. I slapped a tremelo on his guitar part, rewrote the sampled drum parts a few times and decided to mix that after I get the bass part recorded. So all that's left is a tasty bass part and then cleaning up "America's Song" and then writing a transitional piece, somehow using the national anthem and (Buckshot go) Boo-yah!!! (It's a Psychobetabuckdown, Baby!) The last track of the EP will be completed. (pending discussion in the next band meeting)

I also bought my ticket to MT for the 4th of July. I can hardly wait. I leave Madison at 12:45am and get into Livingston at 2:55am. I don't have a long layover in Billings though. I really feel as though I'm missing out if I don't get to spend a quality 4-5 hours sitting in downtown Billings in the middle of the night getting propositioned by shellshocked old men to use some meth or lectured by denture removing, pain pill popping hippies on the oldest religion in the world. Cuthluh? Yeah.

Laugh it up

I was out tossing a frisbee yesterday with some friends on the capital lawn. One toss ended up floating it's way off the sidewalk and I was manuevering to catch it when I realized I was getting awfully close to the chain that divided the sidewalk from the grass. Sure enough. Hit that chain and rolled on the concrete. Fortunately, it was a graceful spill and the people drinking across the street could only laugh for a few minutes. I did straighten out that chain pretty good though.

I grind my self down to establish a point.

If you are going to toss a frisbee, do it in a park where there aren't things to trip over, such as chains.

There would be more but I've work to do and never enough time to do it.

Sweet dream on only three hours

I made the fool's mistake of going to happy hour yesterday. That turned into an all night excursion. Not a lot of alcohol, just a lot of time awake. So, some girl decided that since we had talked twice before, I was her crying shoulder for the frustration of her recently failed 'going to get married' relationship. She was going into the bathroom to punch the wall and stuff. It was a "little" annoying, but it got me thinking... I must have a tattoo that is only visable to those wearing beer goggles, scrawled on my forehead, that says,"Cast all your cares on Him." Because it seems like an awful lot of people open up to me when they know me almost barely.

Pretty night turned ugly. Pretty night wasn't pretty. Never was, never will be.

So I got home late. Crawled into bed. Woke up this morning at 6:37am. I then realized that I had had a dream involving the most notorious man in history. He wasn't speaking German but I was not on his side. (Which is odd since I always thought I was a wee bit evil. eh... not a bad thing I guess.)

Then I was reading an H-I-Larious website by some Iranian and could not stop laughing. Oh, the story of the restaurant and his dad asking him if he was gay because this woman was kicking the crap out of him because she thought her boyfriend was leaving her because he was in love with the dude with the angry homophobe dad who wanted to know if his son was gay so as to know if he needed to pull out a sword and kill his queer son. I was rolling on the floor. Pure Genius.

Planning meetings are an integral part of any successful business.

Morning Word Salad

It's been a whirlwind morning involving telephone flavored lattes and trains sitting in the middle of the road with idiots flying round on broomsticks. I watched people sit at the intersection waiting for a train that wasn't going to move even though they could drive three blocks south and get on the other side of the tracks. It was like watching AI bots sitting at a dead end trying to get through a wall. No ability to think around their problem, just the automated, "Must get to point B. Must get to point B. Must get to point B." I could have sat there at the crossing as well and enjoyed the new album I purchased last night. I would have justified being late to work on account of the train and soaked in a second run through 10,000 Days.

"It's a creeper." as one fan put it on (double you, double you, double you).amazon.com and they seem to be right in a certain sense. My complaints are more about the mixing of the album rather than the overall sound. Sure there are repeat guitar tracks that are straight from "third eye" but the vocals are so low in the mix it's next to impossible to discern if there's singing or not let alone what the words are. Third Eye is a perfect example of that, the section where Maynard is whispering. It's not possible to fully understand what he's saying. (but then again, do we really want to?)

I also put to rest this demon that's been chasing me for the last four or so years. A friend said that I should read the Davinci Code, I would love it, it's full of religious stuff, blah blah blah. In most cases the religious stuff is a definite attractor (bug to bug zapper). Last week, I went to used bookstores looking for a copy of the book but didn't know the name of the author and didn't want to embarass myself by asking the NPR listening, "modern-hip" author reading clerk where I could find a copy. (Sigh, roll eyes, smartass response 'in the trash?') So I bought a Milan Kundera book instead. I really think that point B is not my goal at all.

Anyway this movie is so utterly end-of-chapter-cliff-hanger/easy explanation of end-of-chapter-cliff-hanger, it's a lot like being slapped in the face with a cock. Not having it. Tom and Ian are great actors (hence first name 'familiarity' like we're bros) and they were entertaining to watch but the story and the conspiracy and the Scion of Christ Bullshit...UGH... and the flashbacks and CGI overlaying made a 'bestseller' into a 'blockbuster'. They got my money and I can now file my summons an complaint against Dan Brown. I was compelled by the power of Christ to see that movie. I may have picked up the book eventually but not gotten much further than the first hundred pages. The movie made the story, if you can call it that, accessable to me without having to give up too much time. And why was Tom Hanks crying at the end when he figures out that the bones of Mary Magdelene are buried in the Louvre? (Oh sorry didn't mean to spoil it) sorry... so sorry, SPECIAL SHOES SPOILER ALERT!!! Michael Keaton is a musician who dies in a car accident, leaving behind his wife and son. Through the magic he left behind, one year later, he returns as a snowman, and has the final chance to put things right with his son before he is gone forever. Directed by Troy Miller.

uh... like I said, Where the I Divides will be playing an exclusive gig for three people this weekend. The venue is top secret but I'm pretty sure it'll end up being a basement in Milwaukee. Rider consisting of

1. Three (3) 20 oz. bottles of DeJaBlue water
2. One (1) half-eaten box of stale Nabisco brand Triscuts
3. One (1) pack of Winston Cigarettes (may be replace with Vantage Cigarettes)
4. One (1) carton of Camel Light Cigarettes (Wides preferred)
5. An assorted collection of vintage Playboy magazines (nothing after 1977)
6. One (1) hobo/clown statue

Communits Checks

I went to the bank and deposited my check from the work week.
No, wait.
Wrong checks. I've been reading "the Joke" by Milan Kundera. It was funny reading the Author's Note in the beginning of the book because it made me start to think that the whole book itself was a joke or that the story isn't really the story that he wrote or something. The title has really got me speculating as to what the joke really is. (that's what I'm trying to say)

I think that it would have been great to have been kicked out of the party and conscripted into the army to serve as a miner for the party. Work, eat, sleep, be abused, work, eat, sleep, be abused, go to town every other weekend, maybe. No one expecting me to be somewhere or to do something. Capitolism is a pain in the ass. No, wait. That's my wallet I'm sitting on.

I think the 'joke' so far is that the one character was voted out of the party because he sent a postcard to a girl at a training camp that was joking in its message... something about Trotsky being right. He was joking. They didn't see it that way. I'd probably end up in Siberia faster than a three peckered owl. I'm always using cynicism and satire to mask my arrogant vanity.

Take it to heart

Dear Friends,
Take it to heart, because I was talking about you. That's right. SUCK IT!!!
Love Zach

In other news, it's been Operation Shitstorm at work this week. It seems that May is the month to sue and sue alike. No time for the loging of my mundane life or "insight" on news or blah blah blah.

I retooled "I Hate My Friends" and it sounds better now that it did last weekend. I also wrote something that Travis "Steve Schieler-ed" * as Late Smashing Pumpkins or Early Radiohead.

I called him today to remind him about the C. Earl Cinnamon Swirl pick up for Joe for precttice tomorrow. We're going to record lyrics and bass for another track (hopefully.) I'd like to do "Excuse Me Sir, Can I Please Have Back My Soul," but Travis is betting on "Plastic Head," since Joe is more comfortable with that one.

In other news, Travis and I may be making a trip up to Sparta/Tomah on Sunday. I wanted to take the afterknoon off from work today and do it but, Op. Shitstorm is still in full effect. I have to hunt down the Mayor to serve him a Subpoena. The Subpoena lists him personally, not as the Mayor, so I have to track him down personally, and that means being in his office around 4pm today. Oh well. In Tomah, my plan is to get a few pictures of the signage as namesake of the band and put it up on a website that is yet to be discussed with the other members. Then I'll be able to make my crappy friends (all three of them) listen to my band's crappy music and if they don't, I'll just make them feel crappy.

We also may have a drummer that everyone can agree on if only we can find a practice space in the Madison area that's reasonably priced.

Yeah. Crappy.

* Steve Schieler-ed: to snap fingers repeatedly while saying, "Oooh, ooh, ooh," while someone is playing an original piece of music in an attempt to place the song into a popular band's catalogue. In this instance, the song was something that B. Corigan or T. York wrote and I stole. Steve Schieler (name may be misspelled) is a real person. He used to do this to Travis when he would play music for him. Travis wanted to make a short film about him, Steve Schieler's Rock and Roll Training Video. It's a funny story. He plays guitar and you can hear a full band even though there's no band in sight. It makes people afraid and they run away in terror.

Um, Whatever

I wrote a song this weekend called, "I Hate My Friends." I think that I should change the name to, "I Hate This Song," but I really do hate my friends. (Not really, sheesh, get over yourselves.) It has this repeating 404 track that just drones on and I've been trying out different guitar parts over top of it and the only things that seem to work are these damn cheesy keyboard parts that I write.

I gave the song that title because I'm sick of my friends doing the same damn things every weekend and every weeknight. I crave adventure. I crave excitement. I crave Brains. We did get out friday night to see the Gusto. Pat used to play with Dave in Plan B, and no not the shitty emo group with the same moniker. Pat put his guitar behind his head and played a sweet solo. I was watching him after he did it and it took at least 30 seconds before the smile cracked on his face. You know the smile I'm talking about, the one where you know you just pulled something off and it kicked ass. (like the guy doing the mid-air splits.) I'd never seen him do that before. After the show, I was talking to him about that and he said he hadn't done it before, but it was all in all pretty easy to do. Pat's a skilled guitarist even without that added "glitter."

I have been getting numerous phone calls this weekend. So many people need my advice or something. I have no advice, or my advice is this, "Listen to more Primus."

I hate my friends.

Love, Zach

Here Today

Gone tomorrow. Joe put a U2 "rarity" on a CD called "Last Daze of Smoking." I also have a copy of that song which I got when I bought ATYCLB. It's just an incomplete "Beautiful Day." Different lyrics, different guitar ideas, but the song was hiding in there.

Today is a Beautiful Day. No. Scratch that, I'm tired and stuck in a Tropical Jesus. Some lady walked past me today as I was switching jobs and said, "You better hope you don't get cancer. You're gunna get cancer." She was smiling and seemed happy. She was talking directly to me. I know because I was lighting up a cigarette. Not just a cigarette, a Camel Ultralight. The second to last one in the pack. Once I finish this post, I'm going to go outside and smoke the last one. I didn't have time to respond to her that 1) all things give you cancer in this day and age. 2)I'm an addict and regardless of the consequences, I can't hate the addiction as much as I hate myself. 3)Cancer is the bodys ability to be immortal gone fishing.

I read a story by a Hungarian author about an idea that Cancer is nothing more than the body trying to heal itself and keep us young and healthy and alive. Unfortunately, after the fall of man a/k/a Adam and Eve's devour-ation of the fruit of the the tree of knowledge of good and evil, Gee Whiz took away our cell's ability to "know" how to properly administer the procedure of regeneration and the modern form of Cancer as we know it comes from this. There was also a story in that book about a brothel run by gypsys that, upon entering, one wouldn't be able to leave for an extended period of time (say 50-75 years) but not have aged more than a day.

I'm not really here today. Tropical Jesus. I just want to go to the gym and then read some more of the Social Contract.

The blend put out a demo that had a track that was just their frontman reciting a poem. I listened to it with James and Andy when we went camping. I can still hear the dude say, "no, we're getting married, and as my heart sank, I remembered how my mom used to put up with..."

It was the way he said, "No, we're getting married." It's real quiet-like after a long tirade about his friends abusive boyfriend. But the point was that this girl was a cold queen, or not a cold queen, but a bold queen, on a campus that only has room for Bitch Slut or Whore, she defies them all.

--Advance slowly down the trellis like the ugly plastic ones once sold at the Depot. And I just want to watch Shakes the Clown.

Gray clouds hang over my landscape. Don't want to move an inch. Almost got more tattoos yesterday. Decided it wouldn't make the greengrass on the other side seem so brown.

Walked up Fairchild and remembered when I had done that a year earlier and said, "I live like a King in Madison." Didn't feel that way today. Had a dream about a Lion on Saturday night. Angry Lion. Like a freak Leo. And who was telling me about Coke Black this weekend? Someone was while I was drinking an Oatmeal Stout. I said that I didn't need coke black if I had Oatmeal Stout. The Porter was 13% and they didn't sell it in pitchers for logical reasons that didn't make sense to me after one pint. "Fuck that! I want a whole Damnin' Hell Bitch-Ass pitcher so's I don't gotta stumble up the dammin'-ass bar for another. I can't walk in this condititon. Hell, I'm gunn have to just pee all over my pants where I sit as it is, and who's the sorry one then? Huh?"

Then I kept giving Alison grief about keeping a small beer bong in her purse because I though she was dowining everyone's drinks when they left to go outside for smoking.


(last thing to get put in the clipboard)

Blomit

striped down the side racing past on eight wheels. Sunglasses and sporty cap. hair, hair? what does this say about you and me, what does it all mean? When do i get to stop grinding curbs and creating cracks in belts chasing children and seal their fate with my endorsement. Watch the sun set on the SUV and the cigarette, bleached out hair down to your shaved pits and, bumper stickers that say, "Unless you're a COCK, get off my ASS!" And there's the same guy everyday with his defeated gait to the bus stop. I always think I should give him a ride since we both work in the same building. Or at least give him a pair of sunglasses. Why does everyone wear sunglasses? gaffas del sol. strange.

I can't wait till I get to, "at the Mountains of Madness," in the Lovecraft collection I'm reading. I've been reading a story or two before bed. Good timing for the middle of the night wake-up-drenched-in-sweat-fest. Unfortunately, that's about as deep as it gets. I read that story a long time ago and it didn't make much sense. I've learned a thing or two since then about the cold and uncaring nature of the universe.

I was watching the View with Tom Cruise et. al. from MI:III and Ving was talkin' 'bout Cruise's love for humanity. That's such horse shit. horse Shit HorseShit HORSESHIT! Road apple anyone? Mindy once scarfed down a road apple before my dad could pull her away from it. That's one of the best memories I have of her. Actually, that was the weekend she ate close to a pound of Jalapeno Cheddar Bread. Nasty, Nasty Bread. I don't like cornmeal in my bread. The best way to make cornbread is to use a yellowcake mix and a cornbread mix from our friends at Jiffy (bakery goods for lazy people) and combine the two and bake. Light fluffy and toxic.

It's a ramblin' friday. I can't wail loud enough for the Memorial Day to arrive for a day off.

Hangover Mondays are the best

I stayed up way too late last night after drinking all day. Or should I say, I was drinking from 2:00 PM to 4:00 AM and boy do I not believe how much I don't have a bad hangover. Funny how that works out sometimes.

I realized yesterday:

1. I want my life to be more like Spirited Away. I want to be an animated pixie with a dragon to ride on through the clouds. I would also like to have demons in Kabuki masks strolling around more. That would be pretty damn sweet. Much better than trying to serve a 90 year old woman a Summons & Complaint and having her tell me I've got the wrong number. I went there expecting to have this old woman answer the door and be fragile and timid and instead I got blindsided by a either senile or crotchety grump. (I met my match-but she'll never take me.)

2. Sunday nights are not a good time out. Regardless of what show is going on, there's no fun waiting to be had. It's just a fake assertion of a fake social life with fake friends who generate static to drown out the restless uncertainty the keeps me pretty fidgity and grumpy most of, if not all of, the time.

3. Goldschlager will not increase your net worth

4. If you ask a bartender for "Yellowcake," he will most likely not have any idea what you are talking about or will tell you that the bakery is down the street.

5. I like sleeping in my own bed, I don't like after bar parties, and I can't stand my damn brain on the day after running through every thing I said and did (that I can recall.) It's usually a replay of the scene for processing based on emotional categorical resonance and then crossreference filing based on the individual(s) present at said current memory as either apology owed or no worries about being friends anymore.

I'm really sleepy. Wish I was an illegal resident so I could take the day off today. I'll take tomorrow off instead. If I was an illegal resident, I probably wouldn't have taken the day off today, I would have done it tomorrow instead. A day late and a dollar. That's enough to buy two Pokemon hats, or five Charger's hats. And during band practice, we had to stop playing when the Packers were up to pick, it was annoying.

Terrible things I did to her in her dreams

"common human laws and interests and emotions have no validity or significance in the vast cosmos-at-large... To achieve the essence of real externality, whether of space or time or dimension, one must forget that such things as organic life, good and evil, love and hate, and all such local attributes of a negligible and temporary race called mankind, have any existence at all... [W]hen we cross the line to the boundless and hideous unknown—the shadow haunted Outside—we must remember to leave our humanity and terrestrialism at the threshold."

If you will just take the special pills I've provided, I show you my theory, rather than tell.

and, boy howdy.

She's gunna be pissed when she wakes up.

In response to last Post's comment section:

The Council of Nicea is a fine example of "Religous Knowledge" and its capability to change. Back in 332 AD there was a decision on the status of Jesus as the Son of God as well as being God and also the being of "holy Spirit" getting into the mix, thereby establishing the Holy Trinity as it is roughly known today.

While this stands as a good example of the doldrum pace of change (seeing as this is a tenant of the faith for most Christian sects to this day) it also shows that Religious knowledge is flexible and dynamic. The Old Testament is full of Imagery from the Caananite religious tradition, co-opted no less, and yet the Isrealite people were admonished for partaking in their religous ceremonies on a regular basis.

These ideas were also taken from the Babylonians, and the Ancient Egyptians... sheesh, they stole from everybody. Romans co-opted the Greek Pantheon... and so on.

If we refer back to the idea that religion is used for social engineering or "Social Control", it can then be justified (perhaps) to argue that religion has to be adaptive and changeable. (In so much as the ability of people for change.)

Now here comes the fun part. All of this discussing of ideas is all based on knowledge obtained from sources that vary in their reliability from .99 to .01. I wouldn't go so far as to say that the book-learnin' stuff was on the low end of the spectrum but the ideas in my head may be closer to that. Point, though, is that this is all knowledge that can and will change as well. I spouted off the stuff about the early origins of god without really knowing that information for certain, just going off of what I've read and heard from sources that have the appearance of being reliable. As a professional skeptic, these are only there to be proven untrue.

Isn't that what life is about? Proving it untrue?

Scientific thoughts resumed

With the inductive reasoning trick, the ability to explain events of the natural world with accuracy and also harness the forces therein becomes similar to a cake walk.

Religious persons with a faith-based though process tend to retreat to the myth or lore of the religious texts (in the Judeao-Christian religions at least), which if scholarship is to be believed tells us that the origins of these texts are from oral tradition which eventually became a written tradition as well.

The method for obtaining an understanding of the world was essentially the same, there was a lacking in the passing of knowledge gained. (or something, the Ancient Egyptians built huge monuments and we only have relatively accurate answers as to how they did it.)

Anyway. The process of humanistic scientific thought is the same as the process religious-istic scientific thought. They are both trying to answer the same sorts of questions but through different filters and from different starting points. To take it back to the Science vs. Religion thing, I say that they are working toward the same goal which is an understanding that eliminates or lessens the fear of the unknown. I don't have to fear because I understand.

* * * * *

Completely different note. I am finishing up the last few chapters of No Man Knows My History and I must say that the issues that I feel like I'm dealing with on a personal level as a citizen of this country (economic, religious, and political on the national/international which have an impact on my daily life, i.e. gas prices, coffee shop discussions, "income status," etc...) are things that are universal. There were political scandals since the days of politiking began. It's all just a huge game. Just one big game. I don't want to play anymore.

A brief pause

Someone has a link to this site and I "browsed" over to it today. One of the headlines caught my eye. After reading that one article I went to their economic articles archive. I only scanned headlines but it's more than overwhelming for me to even comment.

This is all stuff that seems to be undercurrents that I can feel on a daily basis. I say feel because I'm not keyed in on it with laser-accurate precision but I have a sense of impending doom. Like when I have gone spelunking. There's always been a phantom in the back of my mind convincing me that there will be an eventual collapse.

"Kingdoms rise and kingdoms fall and you go out."

(I'll get back to the science thing, I swear)

Science on stage again

I wanted to say some stuff about the cost of health care but that'll have to wait. Health care isn't cheap anymore because of Malpractice suits and "advancing tecknological developmental research."

I wanted to continue with this exploration of scientific knowledge/religious knowledge.

I drove to Platteville yesterday and thought about the comment left on the post labeled Science. I didn't have a good answer until this afternoon which comes closer to what I think I was getting at. Scientific knowledge is only a form of understanding of the world around us through inductive reasoning except the conclusions are more acute in their resolves. Religious "faith-based" scientific arguments offer a different resolve based on a different "interpretational" apporach to the outcome of ((process) on an (object)). (Which would be a form of the scientific method.

Essentially Scientific Method is set up like this:
Process (P) is used on Object (Q) -- (P on Q)
Perform (P on Q) and obtain result (R1).
Repeat (P on Q) and obtain result (R2).
Repeat (P on Q) and obtain result (R3). etc...

Analyze data set (R1:R?) and interpret results.

So what we have is a way to understand or to more accurately predict an event or outcome.

More to come later

Science

I don't have the patience to put up links right now but yesterday I was reading some different articles concerning the issue of science "debunking" religious beliefs and also religious beliefs being upheld or found to be true through science.

It doesn't sit well with me, partly due to the language of each side, that of conviction in the accuracy and certainty of what they "know" so desperatly to be true, and also partly because I study religion and philosophy and have a mind that's agile enough to understand scientific concepts as readily as metaphysical ones.

I don't have any answers at this point. It's just something that's been bothering me, or, maybe what I'm trying to say is that, Science isn't the end-all be-all of knowledge just as much as Religion isn't the end-all be-all of knowledge.

I'm reminded of an idea that I came across in my personal studies. Some people take the wide path through the pass on their spiritual journey through life, some people choose to take the path that offers more spectacular views, and yet very few opt to take a path that is not yet set by anyone.

I've been interupted in my thought process so I'll leave it at this,

Science or Religion, either way you slice it, it's only an approach to ease the uncertainty of living. To decry one on bahalf of the other is to assume that one is correct and the other not. Pragmatic thinking would suggest otherwise.

A small "semantics" issue

I was watching Adult Swim last night and was throughly disgusted by what I saw.

Saved By the Bell is NOT ANIMATED. It is not entertaining. It just plain sucks.

Fuck Cartoon Network!

Pardon the language but if it's not animated, then they should be showing it on some other crappy Turner network. Even as much as I would like to Mr. Show episodes re-run during adult swim, I feel that that would be lying under oath to program only shows that remain and will always be animated. Saved By the Bell was dead before it even ran.

I do have one brief kudos to dish out though. The bump with the embossed Jessie Spanno dancing and singing "I'm so excited" over and over again as she breaks down all played in slow-motion was great. But it was modified to be considered animation (Almost) and in a forgiving sort of way that blurs the line between "Waking Life" and "The Lords of the Rings Part 1" (the old-school animated deal) (and if you want links, to bad, I aint doin it.) (Parenthetical asides aside)

I miss the days of rolling my eyes at Baby Blues and having to sit through an entire Sunday evening of re-run Oblongs and Big O only to have to struggle to keep my eyes open to watch Home Movies. I won't be staying up late to watch re-runs of Saved By the Bell. I've seen 'em all and making me watch them again isn't going to make me want to get the DVD's. The same holds for The Friends. Terrible programs.

The end.

Economic musing

There was an interesting article in the New York Times yesterday about the rising disparity in income and economic mobility of the Japanese. It is becoming more common for a Japanese young person to be stuck with fewer options in regards to employment due to their parents income because they can't afford to attend an expensive private school or a cram school which will more likely guarantee them enterance into the most prestigious universities.

Today on the radio I was listen to a program with an economist who teaches at Wheaton University in Boston and he was talking about almost the exact same thing happening in America. The topic wasn't centered around the education disparity (give it time with this education reform from the No School Left Standing) but there is a noticeable line drawn between rich and the favors they get and the rest of us poor and destitute. For example, the tax cuts that were supposed to jumpstart the US economy were doled out at $.95 per day for poor or not even poor but just middle class and the upper 10% were getting roughly $185.00 per day. Now I know that some people will argue that these people who got more back earned more and had to pay more taxes but my response is, "What percentage of their Income did they have to pay in taxes?"

Anyway. I don't like to get too in depth politically and I'm less likely to talk about economics. My specialization is in religion and abstract ideas. It just makes me a little more disgusted with the state of this "great nation" of ours. Look to your left, look to your right. "They Give no Fuck. Just as long as there's enough for them."

I should just move back to Montana and start my freelander cult.

Good fer nuttin'

So this evening I'm suddenly feeling a little more awake. It's hard to say why. Could probably be the full moon. The werewolves are about tonight. They do exist in southern Wisconsin if you listen to anything Travis has to say. Most people don't.

I finally got my stupid state taxes out the door. I've been sitting on them for a month and a half now, or rather, they've been sitting on the floor of my truck waiting to get into the mail. Ugh.

I also had a surprise serve tonight. I went to a trailer park to serve two evictions at one address only to discover that I actually had been given three evictions at two addresses. The sweetest thing was that I made $35.00 instead of $20.00 for the same amount of work. And I don't have to drive back there two more times to post and mail their asses out of their trailers.

I also FINALLY got that stupid picture scanned in from the Ben Folds concert. (Only a month now.)

Peace out for now

Or as Ms. Bell used to write in her Diary. I like Ben better than Zach.

Lethargy

I've been so tired this week, I swear that I got Lyme's Disease from Basho. I did get a really nasty case of poison ivy from Mindy when we went up to Door County. Last night at the gym was the worst workout I've had since I got my membership in November.

On the flipside, my new monitor will be in on Friday. Hell Yes!!! I'm doing my thing, I'm moving my legs, Please Enjoy this, Hell Yes!!!

Other than that same ol, same ol. Wrote a decent guitar riff last night after I pulled some stuff out of the garage and put it into the newly accquired storage space. I'm sure that it won't turn into a song the way it is right now. Travis will hear it and hate it and then I'll not like it. Yeah.

An extra 10 inches

There's something about sleeping. There's something about sleeping in my bed. There's something about sleeping in my bed now. There's something about sleeping in my bed now that I like.

An extra 10 inches.

I put it on stilts so that I could fit some rubbermaid storage tubs underneath it. It's suddenly my new favorite place in the house.

Putting it on stilts did involve going to Home Despot. Sure, I could have gone to Menards but I know HD layout a lot better. I know that the dowells are in millwork. I know that glue is in paint. I know that cleaning supplies are in indoor garden. Maybe working for that evil corporate monstrosity wasn't so bad in hindsight.

"I could get a straigh job. I've done it before. I don't mind working hard, it's who I'm working for"

A Silver Ribbon with a Band of Gold

I have nothing to say today. I cleaned up my room a bit this weekend. Got some more storage space freed up. Bought some wood and may make a new dresser. Finished another song from the sessions with my sister. The other sister wants to record with me. She's hounding me about visiting her again.

I'm tired from Travis' Birthday. Dave said that I have a crush on him. Dave's a dick. He's just trying to drive a wedge between Travis and myself in order to bring us down. Where the I Divides is way better than Know Boundaries. Hands down.

Sleeping the future

I had this dream last night that was really strange.

I was spending time with the Edwards Clan and they had me participate in some weird video game type adventure. Anyway. After that was over, I don't really remember how it ended, but there were lots of ladders and climbing up different ladders to get to the top floor of this building to have some sort of RPG final battle deal and there was object collection involved as well... so anyway.

After that was over, Where the I Divides was supposed to take the stage, because there was a stage that appeared, but Joe was nowhere to be found. We had a drummer, some younger guy who I didn't recognize or know but no singer. So naturally, Travis says that he'll sing. The response from the crowd was luke-warm and I wasn't really surprised. That's the natural tendency of these things at local bars or wherever the hell we were playing. Usually people don't care about the band as much as they care about their Miller Lite and Shots of Yeager.

Speaking of Shots of Yeager, the Godfather of Green Bay is an entertaining look at Northeastern Wisconsin folk. A lot of those stereotypes are true (grain of salt in hand.) The movie wasn't that great nor does it make my "strongly urge you to go see this movie" list, unlike Adam's Apples and possibly Amu, but it does have a few scenes of Mark Borchardt who is endearing regardless of how much you don't like him.

I had a DejahVou at work this week where the copier had been moved to where it is now. At the end of that dream, I ended up back in Montana.

Who want's to predict the future?

Musing in the Past

When I first moved to Montana, my friends would ask me if I was moving out there to start a cult. Sure, a freelander cult with religious overtones. That's what I said I was going to do.

The nature of a cult is getting people to believe that what you are saying is true. That's about it.

Now, Joesph Smith has become even more fascinating to me becasue of the sheer absurdity of his claims. People bought his words, staked their lives on it, and even to this day, they hold to it.

We could talk about Dianetics and Scientology but that's just a bullshit fake religion about having stuff and healing yourself with your mind and stupid shit like that. The reason why it appeals to celibrity is because it's about having stuff. And who has more stuff than them?

David Caresch (?) wasn't allowed to take his ideas nationwide. Joseph Smith and Brigham Young weren't either but they went to where there was no opposition, i.e. Missouri and then Utah. They found a way to preserve the "church" without having to fight massive opposition from neighbors.

One more thing. When I say "on the road." I'm talking about working my ass off instead of sitting in classrooms pouring acids onto blocks of stone.

A dusting of faith

I've been "on the road" the last few days. Lots of thinking and window time. I've also been reading, "No Man Knows My History," by Fawn Brodie. See, I have this weird fascination with Mormons. This worldwide religion managed to get up and running and continued on past it's shaky inception regardless of the what should be obvious absurdity of it's doctrines. So I've been thinking about what people will think about Joesph Smith in 300 years. The Gospels of Jesus were all written a good 30-100 years after his death/not death/world-salvation, long enough for a generation to not know the man personally and have dinner with him and his gang. This is a goodly amount of time to forget stuff about stuff, and they didn't have the internet either.

Ummm.... point... yeah...

So this religion started 150-200 years ago and the driving force of the religion was the Charisma of Joseph Smith. There are many religions that start with a charismatic leader but dwindle as soon as the leader is gone because most people see the person only as a person. Somehow Joseph Smith managed to have divine dustings, Communique with God, and despite the crazy of that, people still went along with it.

Alright. I'm losing focus. I need to get back to the road.

Jumping out

It's been, waste.

I

Split into itself.

Time Like Darius Rucker and Puffer Fish

When is there ever a need ?

One feels less a stranger when one returns to oneself, even in dreams.

Sue called

Some people think that because they don’t do anything after they put in their hours at
their job, everyone else likewise has nothing to do after they clock out. If you want your
cds or photos or crappy art projects, you’ll have to wait till I get a little vay-kay on
docket.

I have been to the rim of civilization in greater Dane County these last few days giving
people their consequences. You can’t hit someone with your car in a parking lot and then
expect the person to not file a claim with your insurance company. Don’t be so grumpy
about it either. It’s one of the resposibilities of driving.

Which brings me to the topic of tailgaiting. I’ve been seeing more and more of it and it’s
really starting to get under my skin. Every time I move into the open left lane to let some
jackass pass me in the right lane, I can’t help but say a prayer that they die horribly under
the back wheels of a semi that they will inevitably tailgate in a few minutes. Now, I can’t
get on the soapbox because I used to drive in such a manner in my youth, but the next
time you get on my tail (lady in the red Escort) pay close attention to as I downshift from
fourth to second.

There’s a new case we got in yesterday in which someone is suing a company because a
product of theirs, being used in its intended capacity, injured someone. The case is about
a tiki torch oil lamp. A child was burned. The manufacturer is on the hook for liability
regarding the saftey of the product. I would not be surprised if the company that
produced the match, or lighter, or bolt of lightning that started the fire on the oil lamp was
also involved in some manner as well. Hell, let’s just sue the atoms that were releasing
too much energy. Sue the damn universe for being unsafe. The great american lottery.

Releasing too much energy.

I read something about that... hmm...

Gateway to Cranberry Country

We had a meeting on Tuesday night on State Street.

I had an idea for the band name.

"Where the I Divides"

It's a working title that may change.

Nein, too much today already.

Here's something that I was reading today.

"In the States, so much of what we call daily life, human life, is concerned with death in a fashion that's very peculiar. For instance, we have all kinds of "wars" declared against this or that aspect of death. We have a war on poverty, a war on cancer, a war on heart disease. There's even a war on war. These aspects of death around us, within us, are always conceived of as the great enemy which must be overcome so that we can get beyond disease, war, poverty--into what they like to think of as the good life, the real life, the life which has no death within it. And this dream continues. But it's always a kind of troubled and violent dream because it implies (and sometimes says openly) that, in order to make that leap, we have to make war on something or on somebody. To attain anything like the truth of life, or a life with others, somthing is always in our way; and must be done away with, must be overcome.

Of course the fact is that the culture is almost totally bankrupt of a vision of what a good life might be. We're ridden by comsumerism, fear, violence, racism--all these terrible mythologies which forever put off any real vision. I find it interesting in the light of scripture that, while the dream of the good life is forever delayed, death is always magnified: omnipresent, omnivorous, the shadowy other, the enemy. So we never really pay tribute to life at all, and never arrive at life. What we're really doing all the time is paying tribute to death. The eventuality of life is put off and put off and put off, because the obstacles and enemies multiply like piranhas, forever.

Until the end of history we'll be waging a shadow war. The shadows are created by our owh psyche in the image of death. In this itch for beautitude, which has nothing to do with God or our neighbor--in order to get nearer to that, we must kill all the time. In the pursuit of life, we are always dealing out death. War becomes the continual occupation and preoccupation in the minds of people who are purportedly trying to get a better life."

I'll post the rest tomorrow.

Tickets Please

I got this this this thing. It's not what you think. Put that nose to the stone and flip the switch.

Goodness Gracious descends in a cloud of witnesses. See and believe. Ain't no other way to do it.

Cut my finger good today. Watched some squirrels get it on. Drove around. Made copies.

Just want to sleep. Can't. Saint Patrick's day.

It's more appropriate to wear orange than green today. The colors of Ireland are green, orange and black. Green is Protestant. Orange is Catholic. Black is for something else. (Bruises from drunken brawls? Nah... to cliche) I just sleep when I drive home and that's it. Gotta get things organized into nice packages.

Granola would be nice. Marshmallows too. There are people in the world who don't know what to do with Marshmallows. That's a shame. Like some Americans and Tofu.

A.C.C.E.D. came up with that today too. It was an acronym for something. Don't remember. The D was for Dependence I think. C.E.D. can't eliminate dependence? Whatever.

The Train is Leaving

(Enters with soapbox)
The computer at work is officially diagnosed as sick, offically.

With that out of the way.

Went out and purchased the series of Mission Hill on Sunday and watched a few episodes. Last night I watched the Real World episode. Quite the classy show, I'll say. "You're Andy's uncle? Shut Up! My mom's brother is my uncle!!!"

That's such a great line. It's the new version of, "My cat's breath smells like cat food."

Moving to more seriousness.

I think that spring in Madison makes me want to be a Buddhist. It seems like it happens every time I'm here. Perhaps it's more closely related to the fading feelings of being from somewhere else and not wanting to be in Madison.

Although, it does put a profound perspective on sitting in the opulent lobbies of national law offices, waiting for some attorney to get his papers. Does this world need legal documents? Does this office need teak furniture and a glass waterfall? Do I need to be here? The answer is always, know.

But Patience is virtuous in the manner that all permenence can be given up to a life of freedom. I was reading this last night and it made me think that if I ever ended up like that man, I would not deserve to live. My self is not defined by the mountains that I perceive to be my own. The self is and always will be the element that can continue on without, or rather, the self is that which is necessary and the rest is only "junk."

(stepping down off of soapbox)

Step Onto the Platform, Sir

I have not really had a chance to catch up from the weekend. I have a few pictures that I'll try to put up. I need to figure out a better way of getting pictures off of my cheap digital camera. (besides going to Walgreens and having a CD made.) I have one that I want to use for the profile picture so all five of my readers (Yeah, my circ. stats. are shrinking) (Thirteen going on Thirty is not worth losing sleep over. Sure, I stayed up late one Monday night watching Crossroads, but I was young, it was only a dollar and it had to be back the next day and I can say that it was totally worth it. But, I can't not watch bad movies instead of sleeping, it's just too hard.) Yeah... and then there's this. Oh God! I'm such a loser!

Now, I'm not saying that I have spent any time studying script writing but watching the deleted scenes and such made Kristin and me laugh. The story is so flimsy and there were things that just had to be there to move the story, that weren't there. Um... Yeah... I liked Jennifer Garner in Electra better.

When I saw that movie I decided that I wanted to become a Sexy Assassin.

(Long Pause)

Okay. That last link is like a time portal to a magical world that exists only in dreams (or that dude's head. )

Just a thought

"I think the we're learning that the West is in the last days of a system which has already proven itself anithuman and bankrupt, and this includes the last days of the church as we know it. The church has entirely meshed its destiny and method with that of capitalism and the military...
"Whereas, as I understand it, the Buddhists have grasped the future. By being faithful to simple things now, Buddhism hasn't become part of something that must die or that must be ended, the way the church in the West has."
-Daniel Berrigan

I've been busy as hell already this week. I got to go on a Quest yesterday. "It's a concept album about a wizard on a quest," kept running through my mind when I was driving around from donation center to donation center looking for old computers. All I needed was a 486 or better with a case and a motherboard but instead I ended up with two pairs of jeans for $5.50. Good deal? No. Great Deal!!!

I've not had time to work on the post I mentioned a while back. I'll get to it some day.

More computer meyhem tonight with Dr. Dre. Off to Patch O' the Ass and then maybe work on another song with my sister tonight. No time for the gym I guess. Ill squeeze that in while I'm sleeping.

I'll get to it some day.

Also, I did come up with some more potential band names.

A Brief Catastrophic Demonstration
Just Matter
Sentient Beings
to Have a Plan
No Reason
Replicating Machinery
Less Competent
The Abrupt Fall
Self-Organizing
Darwinin Selection
Ilya
Dependency on Reality
Valid Proof
Effect of Karma
The Orbits
Path of Spheres
Concrete Slab Slave
Industrial Revolution Society (IRS)
Children In Arbitration (CIA)
Localized
No Stones Left Unturned
Similar on the Outside
Area By Area
Perceptual Experience of Color
Color w/o Shape
Characteristically Confined
Familiar's Traverse
Familiar Traverse
Familiar Descent
Galvanic Response
Calvinist Glory Train
Calvanist Glory Hole
Evoke the Memoranda
Lower Level
Busted Cookies
Integrative Mechanisms

Yeah... not enough ideas yet.

Name that Band/Weekend bizzarities

So the computer at work decided today would be a good day to call in sick. I have no idea why it wouldn't boot but I really wanted to fix it with a sledgehammer. The other one that I've been avoiding because it needs a network card installed finally had the card put in but it doesn't recognize the CD drive in it so I couldn't install the drivers for the card.

Put my head in the oven on that one... took to long just messing around with them.

On Saturday we had practice late. It was an okay rehearsal but we called it early. The energy just wasn't there. I called a band meeting at the pub right after practice and we sat and talked about our concerns. The main one still is finding a drummer. Other than that, a name is also high on the list of things to accomplish.

I was thinking about asking the six people who read my blog what they thought a good band name was... I have lots of ideas that I want to veto... the only band I've ever been in that had a name I liked was "Signals of the Local Romans." Shisler has lots of good ones though. Col. Glove and the Revolving Door Identity. Help Bingo! Fresh! Beast Opera. Vulture Safari. Joe suggested some good ones too. Fuzz. The Napkins. You. V3. Sometimes I think that we just should be, "Let's get the Hell out of here." So... GO ahead and leave your suggestions in the comments.

On Saturday as well, I had this guy ask me to deliver a package for him. It was in the morning and I was stopping at an ATM to get food coupons for breakfast at Mickey's Diner. This guy in a mini van got my attention and so I walked over and he handed me this heart-shaped box and an envelope. "Can you go over to Kinko's and give this to a girl that works there? I'll give you a dollar for it." I complied and as I was walking over to the Kinko's I was thinking to myself. "A Dollar! I usually get $15 for serving stuff." Anyway, inside the store, I asked if the girl was working and the nice woman behind the counter said that she wasn't but that she would be in on Sunday. I was on my way out the door and then remembered that I didn't need to serve this girl personally and even if I did, it wouldn't have been for just a dollar. I turned around and then gave the box of whatever and the letter to the woman and said, "Some weird guy in the parking lot asked me to give this to this girl. I'll leave it with you and you can give it to her if you want or just throw it away. I don't know who he is or anything. Thanks." and then I just left.

Now, I don't know if this was some sort of box of anthrax or some kind of stalker thing or if this girl has a restraining order against this guy or what so I probably did something I shouldn't have. Or I just made a dollar of some jackass who doesn't have the guts to talk to some girl except through a letter. (Roll eyes and groan) I know that would win me over.

The ATM I was going to get cash from was out of order so I drove down the street to the Open Pant'ry and went in to use their ATM which was also out of order. I went up to the counter with a MD Live Wire and noticed this guy buying something. He looked like a college student but he also was in his late 30's or early 40's. Strange, but I didn't think anything else about it. I decided I would just go to Mickey's and get food and borrow money from my friend but then there was a bank across the street that I didn't know was there. Cash in hand, I went and got my food. The guy that I noticed at the Open Pant'ry was sitting at the counter and I ended up sitting next to him and during the time that I was sitting there, he turned to me and asked me if I was a wrestler. Now, that's an understandable question but why he thought I was a wrestler or would even ask seemed a bit beyond the normal scope of usual interaction.

Okay... that is all, I guess. For now.

Work things

BW just brought this in.

[Begin feed]

NOTICE FOR PROCESS SERVERS!!!

BEGINNING APRIL 3, 2006 WE WILL ONLY BE ACCEPTING PROCESS EACH BUSINESS DAY (MONDAY-FRIDAY) FROM THE FOLLOWING TIMES:

7:00 A.M. - 12:00 P.M. AND 1:00 P.M. - 2:00 P.M.

THIS IS NOT INCLUDING HOLIDAYS OR DAYS THAT WE ARE CLOSED!

THANK YOU.

CT CORPORATION SYSTEM

[End feed]

While most people couldn't care less, this is just the type of corporate crap that makes me angry. Wisconsin law says that they have to have reasonable business hours for service acceptance. Is six hours a day reasonable? My guess is that it is, but that's because I'm lazy and six hours a day is waaaay too looong. And since I'm lazy, I'm not going to stroll down to the law library on the UW campus and research case precident on reasonable hours. This is the result of poor turnaround time over at CT and the corporate fucks want their business up. Nevermind humanity.

I also thought it was funny that they had to note that those hours do not apply on days that they are closed.

Then "Eddie Haskel" comes storming over to my stack of billings and starts rifling through them for something. Comes back and plops it on the stack. They were in numerical order, Ass!

Is there such a thing as SUPER RUSH!!! ? Well, they're paying a buck extra for each letter. That'll teach 'em.

The Boss is over at his desk playing spider solitare day in/day out. It's his business so I'm not complaining, rather, I'm observing and reporting. But, he sometimes messes up my filing. Maybe I should teach him what I'm doing.... nah.

Still need to find new software. Really just want to get an internship at a recording studio. Wohoo!!! another job that doesn't pay me for my time. (isn't that just life?)

"Whatever and Ever, Amen"

Bored and hungover

I discovered this crappy website called blogthings and they have all these stupid quizes. Sometimes, it's really fun to be a thirteen year-old and put things like this on my website and the spell everything with abreviations. The first quiz I took was this one.

You Should Get a PhD in Liberal Arts (like political science, literature, or philosophy)

You're a great thinker and a true philosopher. You'd make a talented professor or writer.

The after that, I saw this next one and just HAD to take it. Gawd! It was so dead on!!!

Your Scholastic Strength Is Deep Thinking

You aren't afraid to delve head first into a difficult subject, with mastery as your goal. You are talented at adapting, motivating others, managing resources, and analyzing risk. You should major in: Philosophy Music Theology Art History Foreign language

What Should You Major In?

Then, there was this one... and it's kinda where I started to see the pattern emerging...

Your 1920's Name is:

Johnathan Phaedrus Dewey

Alright then, I put my name in the hat for this one and I got, OF COURSE, ...

You Are The Devil

You don't represent evil, but you do represent the animalistic side of humans. You demonstrate what happens when we listen to our first instincts. At times you tend to be materialistic and hedonistic, giving in to temptation. Admit it, you're guilty of acting first - and forgetting to think later! Your fortune: Right now, you may be having a difficult time as a result of choices you have made. You need to think about what's important in your life, and discover what chains you down. It is the time to acknowledge your faults and take steps to overcome them. It's also the time to let go of any fears or inhibitions that are holding you back.

Yes, it is time to let go of any fears and inhibitions. Uh...I'm going to ask Tyler Pinskie to ask me to the dance on Friday. OMG I hope his mom drives us.

More than that mind could handhold

This is not a post. I'm just done for the day but it ain't over for a while. Still have to help Dave move out and then go to patch o' the ass later.

I've got an idea that I'm working on... I swear that it'll be good, sort of. That's a rule of comedy. Don't tell them you're telling a joke, just tell the damn joke.

An ugly brunette walks up to the bar and tells the bartender she wants a 'B &C'. The bartender looks at her and says, "WHAT DO YOU WANT!!?" She replies, "a Bacardi and Coke, duh." Then, her ugly red-head friend next to her says, "Can I get a 'G & T'?" The bartender looks at her and says, "What the hell is wrong with you people? What's a 'G & T'? A gin and tonic?" "Yeah," says the annoying friend. Then, this buxom blond, who had been waiting impatiently behind the ugly brunett and her annoying red-headed friend said in a whiney voice, "Excuse Me! Can I get a 15? Now!" At this point, the bartender just glares at her and says, "give me a blowjob and I'll not throw you out." The blond, aghast, then says,"I just want a Seven and Seven."

Groan.