“With the kings and queens of the dance hall craze, checkmate in three moves in your heyday, but…”

So as an accompaniment to this entry I was going to post a youtube of the song Human Hands by Elvis Costello, only to discover that youtube only contains a zillion videos of Sondre Lerche’s cover version of the Elvis Costello song. I’m sure it’s great and all, but it’s typically depressing that a new indie cover would be more accessible and well known than the actual song…

Did anything worth mentioning happen this weekend? I feel like it did, but after a whirlwind of fun sometimes I sit down to update this thing and can’t think of much to say…or realize I can’t write about certain things which incriminate other people, especially since so many people I actually know read this thing now. So when I write about goings ons wth random strangers and comical encounters with various respectable women and also cheap hoes, there may be consequences. But fuck it!

Friday I went with Bill to Casey Moore’s for a bit, and there were some girls who were attractive, but when they walked by they smelled like hot wings which kind of ruins it when you’re expecting marc jacobs perfume or something. So anyway it was kind of a cheesefest, and so I convinced Bill to go to Philthy Phil’s for Craig Citizen’s birthday celebration. I had a really good time, and saw a lot of people I wanted to see. Also talked to some people I had wanted to talk to for a long time and all and all just felt surrounded by friends. I danced with a lot of really nice girls. The dances were all very sexually charged but still innocent…which is the best kind of dancing. Bill didn’t feel like dancing, so he didn’t really have an outlet for his boner rage, so he ended up leaving early. I stayed to the end and left while I was still in a good mood. I got out of there in a hurry, cinderella style. One thing I don’t ever like to do is overstay my welcome. You’ve got to get out while the getting’s good. If you talk to these girls, and you just linger they begin to develop a seething hatred for you no matter how excited they were to talk with you originally. Sometimes it is still very difficult to leave though, even though you know staying just makes you into a stubborn cockroach hanging out in the aftermath of globalthermonuclear war. You just want to talk more and more and dance more and more and be oh so close… BUT you have to run!

Saturday night went to Casey’s again and hung out with friends. Was hanging out with Mark, Mikey, and others. I ran into an old(young) friend there and we ended up going to a Tempe house party afterwards, something I hadn’t really experienced in years. There ended up being major drama, as it turned out the girls who lived at the house had some sort of a history of being enemies with the girl I was friends with. So they kept talking shit to her and trying to kick her out. They were saying ridiculous stuff to her like “girl, don’t nobody want you here”(and yeah these were white and hispanic people talking like that.) Anyway, they were also sending these scuzzy, doofusy looking loser dudes over to incoherently tell her she needed to go. Anyway finally she agreed to leave, and even though I wasn’t really involved I was like “Well if she has to leave, then I’m leaving, too.” Not that anyone cared for me to be there, but it was a matter of honor. And so the four or five of us left, and we went to her friends’ apartment and hung out for a bit. One of her cute friends actually had a working VCR with a box of VHS tapes. Pretty amazing. One of the dudes was like “Holy shit! You guys sit around and watch vcrs?” And she was like “Uh no we watch VHS tapes.” Total Back to the future Two moment. Ohh and she told this story about how this guy was throwing rocks at her window late at night trying to get her attention, and I was all “Oh how romantic!” But she said she didn’t notice who it was at first and so she freaked out and called 911. And it turns out it was some dude she had wanted to leave her alone, so she was just really creeped out. Note to self, don’t ever throw rocks at a girl’s window whom you’re romantically interested in.

Today I hung out with Jonathan mostly. We went to Adult Swim briefly, then had burgers and went to his apartment where we watched the Ellen Degeneres Comedy Special on TBS(not my idea.) He played me some of his new techno jams that he made though so that part was fun, even though neither one of us really likes or listens to techno.

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Big League Chew

Three nights in a row I have fallen asleep around 9:30. I guess a zillion nights in a row of getting only 4 or 5 hours of sleep has finally caught up with me. I have to get out of this rut though. Sleep is such a waste of time and not going out for an extended period of time causes bad things to happen. You start to lose social mass. It’s like muscle mass, if you stop working out it will begin to vanish pretty quickly…and then you have to start all over.

I finished some paintings. I’m sorta happy with them. Painting in my underwear in my room is like my new (old) favorite pastime.Try not to get a mental picture of that though if you know what’s good for you and me.

I feel like last month was a very lush time period for girls and romance, but alas just as fast nearly all of my romantic interests have fizzled out. What happens is that you pick the most promising prospect to go for…because really no matter how many girls there are…there is usually just one or two that deep down you know you could potentially fall for. So you decide to get to know them better knowing that you’ll pretty much persistently like them so long as they don’t turn out to be homicidal maniacs..and of course they have to like you consistently, too. And so after those end up biting the dust…you start to go back and revisit the “B list,” but then you realize that nearly every girl is going to be a problem in some way so you might as well just go for the gold. Besides, it feels much less demeaning to get the shaft from some amazing girl you knew was probably slightly out of your league anyway, than to be dissed by some girl you thought would be an easy target. Better to have a brief stint in the majors than be flat out rejected by some minor league team, right?

So I’m in for yet another miserable birthday in a few days. My birthdays almost always suck ass. 2007 was the last good one that I had, and before that you have to go back to the 80’s, to some of my epic childhood birthday parties. The only thing I’m looking forward to is getting the keys to my place today or tomorrow…and moving in this weekend even though I don’t have any furniture yet. Though I will need to paint the walls, remove the carpeting and buy about a million things I don’t even know I’m going to need yet.

white shoes / black shoes

There was a shoe sale at Nordstrom’s last Friday so I bought some much needed new shoes. Anybody who knows me, knows that I almost exclusively wear white shoes. I just prefer them. There’s just something about a person who walks into a room wearing white shoes. If you don’t believe me just watch Chevy Chase as Clark Griswold in National Lampoon’s Vacation, hotel scene.

I have always just felt it was an almost mythological experience to put on the white shoes to go out. Like it somehow signified that I was a valiant knight, a lone gentleman against a seedy, sleazy, swarthy backdrop of a scene. Though this is of course mostly a delusional fantasy in my mind.

One time my ex girlfriend was going to buy me a pair of shoes for my birthday. When I picked them out, a glistening pair of white slip on-sneakers(not Vans) her response was “No not those! Those shoes aren’t even meant to be worn the way you want to wear them! They’re supposed to be like skater style. Not like how you’re going to wear them…like John Travolta or something.” Long story short, she flat out refused to buy them for me, which kind of upset me considering it was MY birthday after all. Shouldn’t she just have gotten me the ones I wanted regardless of how she felt about them? But of course there would have been dire consequences.

Anyway, for some reason this time, I didn’t like any of the white shoes they had at Nordstrom’s. I couldn’t find anything that was just plain white with a little bit of black. I was stubbornly determined to purchase shoes though for Friday night. So I went ahead and bought a pair of black diesel sneakers(with white swoosh on the sides.) I really liked them though, and knew that they were the best selection. Sometimes you have to do what you know is right, even though it feels wrong. Or is it sometimes you have to do what you know is wrong because it feels right? I don’t know if wearing black shoes will signify a whole new era for me or not. Maybe I will take on the “personality” of the black knight robot in Westworld and start running my sword through obnoxious tourists. Things were dark enough when I wore the white shoes. Am I a different person with them on? Time will tell.

Lately I have that song “I got the horse right here..his name is Paul Revere” stuck in my head. It’s from a famous musical “Guys and Dolls,” but my first exposure to it was the 80’s movie “Oh God You Devil.” I have always found that singing this song to myself is casually motivational.

NICELY
I got the horse right here
The name is Paul Revere
And here’s a guy that says that the weather’s clear
Can do, can do, this guy says the horse can do
If he says the horse can do, can do, can do.

(Benny starts singing his part at this time, while Nicely continues:)
Can do – can do – this guy says the horse can do
If he says the horse can do – can do, can do.

(Rusty starts singing his part as the time, while Nicely and Benny continue:)
For Paul Revere I’ll bite
I hear his foot’s all right
Of course it all depends if it rained last night

Likes mud, likes mud, this X means the horse likes mud
If that means the horse likes mud, likes mud
Likes mud.

I tell you Paul Revere
Now this is no bum steer
It’s from a handicapper that’s real sincere
Can do, can do, this guy says the horse can do.
If he says the horse can do – can do – can do.
Paul Revere. I got the horse right here.

BENNY
I’m pickin’ Valentine, ’cause on the morning line
A guy has got him figured at five to nine
Has chance, has chance, this guy says the horse has chance
if he says the horse has chance, has chance, has chance

I know it’s Valentine, the morning work looks fine
Besides the jockey’s brother’s a friend of mine
Needs race, needs race, this guy says the horse needs race
If he says the horse needs race, needs race, needs race.
I go for Valentine, ‘Cause on the morning line,
The guy has got him figured at five to nine
Has chance, has chance, this guy says the horse has chance
Valentine! I got the horse right here.

RUSTY CHARLIE
But look at Epitaph. he wins it by a half
According to this here in the Telegraph
“Big Threat” – “Big Threat”
This guy calls the horse “Big Threat”
If he calls the horse “Big Threat”,
Big Threat, Big Threat.

And just a minute, boys.
I’ve got the feed box noise
It says the great-grandfather was Equipoise
Shows class, shows class.
This guy says the horse shows class
If he says the horse shows class
Shows class, show’s class.

So make it Epitaph, he wins it by a half
According to this here in the Telegraph.
Epitaph! I got the horse right here!

One Hart Too Many

Lately on my travels, I’ve been reading bits of actor Robert Wagner’s autobiography, “Pieces of My Heart.” My first memories of Robert Wagner are from when I used to watch the show “Hart to Hart” with my mom, (but was probably too young to understand anything that was going on.)

The most striking difference between Robert Wagner’s memoirs and Tony Curtis’ is that Robert Wagner is simply a much more romantic guy, a gentleman even. When it comes to romance, Tony Curtis basically spends a lot of time bragging about his endless sexual conquests. He also cheated on all of his several wives, and when he talks of falling in love… it is generally reduced to a couple of paragraphs for just about every new girl he meets. He clearly just had a case of “the new girl syndrome.” Robert Wagner on the other hand devotes about 80% of his book to being in love with Natalie Wood. This includes falling in love with her, marrying her, arguing and fighting with her, moping around for years when she leaves him, finally getting her back, living happily in their second marriage and then eventually being devastated when she mysteriously drowned off Catalina Island in 1981.


I personally never really got into Natalie Wood that much. I mean I’m sure she was really wonderful and everything like everyone thought, but I just never had like an actress crush on her or saw what was so magical…. and from reading Robert Wagner’s book, all indications point to her as being a pain in the ass to deal with(although he doesn’t frame it that way or try to paint her as such…but any guy who has been around the block can read between the lines.) She dumps him when her career is riding high, leaving him in the dust. Then later when he has a new wife and re-established his life with roles in “The Pink Panther”(60’s film version) and “The Longest Day” while her career has started going downhill and her high profile romances have all fizzled out…well you get the idea.

This online account of one of their first dates is telling:

He invited her to meet him for lunch the following day. Natalie’s indifference – and Wagner’s easygoing manner – are indicated by the fact she arrived three hours late, to find him waiting patiently and still in good humour. This mellow manner won her over. She found herself accepting an invitation to an evening aboard My Lady, the first of the many boats Wagner was to buy with his cinema earnings.

Actually, forget Rebel Without a Cause, West Side Story and Splendor in the Grass…the only Natalie Wood movie I ever really enjoyed was “Sex and the Single Girl” (which coincidentally starred Tony Curtis!)

accidental manwhore

Someday I should really consider becoming an actual manwhore instead of just an accidental one…which is to say that yes! I think I’ve indeed become an accidental manwhore. An accidental manwhore is a guy who enters a dating experience with mostly pure intentions, but for whatever reason it just doesn’t work out. It ends up having this net effect of you having a zillion of these like one or two week romances…where you hook up with the person a few times but a relationship or courtship never fully materializes. So it gives the appearance that you’re a sleazy manslut as before you know it you’ve managed to hook up with all sorts of people, but really you’re just a bold, stubbornly romantic guy in a brave new world who just so happens to have really bad luck and never quite gets anywhere yet keeps trying anyway. Accidental manwhorism is just another peculiar phenomenon of life in the big city.

summer of like

I ended up buying a condo on 38th st and Indian School. It was built in 1967, and is about as mod as I could hope for. My loan was finally approved so I should get the keys in a couple days. Feel free to come over and drink wine, listen to records, and watch cartoons with me all summer long. I’m really hoping for a great summer. The last couple have been super shitty, filled to the brim with melancholy, dysfunction and a touch of despair. 2007 was the last great summer back when Shannon and I were at the peak of our romance…before that you have to go back to about 2002 to find a decent summer, and that one was only memorable for my playing a lot of Super Nintendo(Final Fantasy Five) and for a really cool blue track jacket I used to wear along with a Paul Frank T-shirt.

So this place is going to be my villain headquarters from now on. Hopefully this will be the summer of romance, creativity and delusions of grandeur moments of world domination. See you there!

tennis balls and mirror mazes

How’s the weather, whether or not we’re together,
Touch me but don’t let me down.
Maybe I’m just hanging around, with my head up, upside down..
it’s a pity, I can’t seem to find someone who’s as…
pretty and lovely as you

There needs to be a manual for how to deal with emotionally healthy girls. I seriously haven’t a clue. I used to think these were mere mythological creatures, somewhere in the realm of centaurs, nymphs or even The Kraken…essentially fantasy, dreamed up beasts that may or may not have existed long ago in far off lands but that which I would surely never see in my lifetime. However, perhaps emotionally healthy girls are more commonplace than I thought. I’ve come to realize that I probably just don’t attract them as they are more likely to be drawn to normal or otherwise ordinary dudes. Makes sense right? I certainly have never dated a completely emotionally healthy girl. In the past I would even have been thrilled to know some girl merely had an eating disorder or something, and that that was the extent of her core issues she was(and I soon would be) dealing with.

All of which begs the question..what in the world does one do with a pleasant, low maintenance, fully functional girl, mostly of sound mind? One who isn’t too clingy, who doesn’t blow off her friends to hang out with you? who doesn’t storm out the moment you say the wrong thing? Setting aside the totally freaking obvious answer of hang on for dear life and don’t let her get away!…one must face the more practical matter of just how on Earth to proceed with such a girl. Like I said, I haven’t the foggiest idea. My only instinct is that of a mirror. Whatever likable qualities she sees in me, I’m inclined to reflect those back to her. The image of herself she offers up to me, I accept it and in turn reflect that back to her. Whatever I manage to emanate from myself in her direction I then look upon her to reflect back toward me.


“I need you so, oh, oh, oh, oh
and if you take it easy I’m still teethin'”