feeble screams, fever dreams

So my old pal Dawn Batson rolled into town Alice style on her way to L.A.(only her car didn’t break down and she didn’t get a job in a diner.) I would have taken her out on the town and subjected her to some trashy phoenix hipster nights, but it just so happened I was sick with a fever and the early makings of what is now a full on “runny nose vagina” in my nose…or what Nikki calls “the clapper” (I don’t really get it either.) I thought the clapper was used to turn light switches on and off. She says it’s like “the clap” but in your nose. Well…now it all makes sense I guess.

Anyhow Dawn and her friend stayed at my place and she asked me to come along with her to L.A. which I had planned on, but I just didn’t feel well at all. We did some catching up and talked about all sorts of people we’d dated and misc. drama in our lives…ambitions and so forth. One thing memorable from our discussion is how often people in relationships seem to cheat on each and how they both stay with the other person, and it’s just somehow acceptable. I mean some of these people are together for years and cheat on each other openly. I personally would simply break up with a girl without thinking twice about it if she cheated on me…along with entertaining thoughts about murdering the dude and revenge sex with one of her friends. I would never cheat on someone I was in a relationship with, and if for some reason I simply couldn’t resist for whatever reason…then I wouldn’t expect the relationship to last much longer. I mean I’m not a puritan or anything, and I get that you can get bored of someone or if your significant other is always out of town traveling or whatever…you may want to stray…but then if you can’t commit to someone then just don’t be in a relationship. Just be single and slutty. It doesn’t make you appear any less sleazy just because you can manage to muster the effort to maintain some sort of plastique facade of being a loving romantic couple. And another thing? Why do dudes cheat? Where do they find the energy? When I’m with someone, I have a hard enough time paying enough attention to just one person…and when I manage to get a break I’m thinking about naptime and a bowl of cereal…not boning down and with other hoes and draining yet even more of my life force.

Dawn and I made sure to take our tri-annual tooth brushing photos which I’m sure she’d be thrilled that I’m posting here:



Tuesday I met up with a precocious girl, and we listened to records in my living room and played Phase 10. It was really quite nice actually. Went to sleep at 4am and woke up at 7:30….like I have done almost every night this week. I can only do that for so long though before I crash, which is what happened tonight. Fell asleep at 6 PM and woke up at 1AM, played my acoustic guitar for a bit and went out for last call. Nobody was anywhere.

I received my homebuyer tax credit check in the mail, which was pimp tight. Went to H&M and Urban and bought some new clothes. I really just need sleep though. Also bought a travel sized acoustic guitar from a pawn shop. It was a 2002 Squier 20th anniversary in brand new condition. Nothing special really, still kind of a P.O.S. but I love the travel sized acoustic guitars. The big dreadnought types are just too uncomfortable for me.

Last night Jonathan Sakas came over, and we jammed in my room for a couple hours and drank most of the rest of the Blue Moons I had. Jonathan gave me some good ideas for stuff. It was pretty fun, but then I couldn’t get him to go out after that.

The Last Lois Lane

I just woke up from a long nap with some strange dream sequences, which may or may not have been induced by the strawberry frozen yogurt I consumed a few hours before. I don’t recall the exact narrative of my dream, if there was one. Some highlights:

Some guy had planted fruit trees in the middle of the street, so now there were full grown trees blocking huge portions of the road. I couldn’t believe this didn’t seem to bother anyone and that no one was doing anything about it.

I woke up within the dream…you know one of those perplexing moments when you wake from sleeping in a dream and somehow think you’re not dreaming anymore since you woke up. Suddenly I realized I was covered in tattoos. They were good tattoos from what I could judge, and apparently were placed there by some female friends. I tried to figure out how they could have done it while I was asleep. Had I been drugged or something. tried to wash them off only to discover that they were permanent. I then however, woke up again within the dream and the tattoos were gone. Ah thank goodness it was only a dream, yet I didn’t realize I was still dreaming even then.

I was sitting in some unknown mall-like airport, in heavily trafficked area near one of the exits. A somewhat dirty, white german shepherd dog wandered up to my chair and wanted to be petted. I was nervous, because you never know if strange dogs will just decide to bite the shit out of you. It’s owner seemed to be nowhere to be found, but finally a white trash looking lady came by and claimed it….As I’m sitting there, I’m watching an anime series on a portable little gadget I apparently own. The Anime series is a fictitious older one which is titled “The Last Lois Lane.” As the theme song is playing, there’s an older Asian man several seats away from me singing along with the words as if it’s something he’s nostalgic for from his childhood. However, he seems too old to be nostalgic for an anime series that’s maybe at the most a couple of decades old. He would have been a full grown adult at the time when it aired….so I figured he must have watched it with his his children and maybe he’s reminiscing about the time he used to spend with them. I wish that I could remember the words to the song, but I’m afraid it was all just gibberish, though maybe it was just in Japanese an I just didn’t recognize it since I don’t speak the language. I don’t want to offend anyone.

Making It Through Kustoms

I own a couple of Kustom Dart ’66 reissue amps, a blue one and also a white(silver?) I purchased them a couple years ago, and besides looking cool, they are pretty rad sounding little amps. They were only briefly made though as some sort of limited edition. For some lame reason, the new Kustom amps are not made with the “tuck n roll” style covers. It’s kind of disappointing. The unique look of Kustom amps would seem to be the only reason one would wish to resurrect the brand in the first place. From everything I have read, the original Kustom amps of the 60’s and 70’s were non known for their sound, but mostly their looks and the fact that they were inexpensive. I’m not sure why someone chose to make “new” Kustom amps with totally unimaginative designs.

example of a new production Kustom amp.

They’re Playing With Fire

Not much to report here. Been spending most of my time in my room playing my guitar… as well as watching “Sex and the Single Girl” and listening to records in my living room. Occasionally I take time out to get smashed and play Uno. I’m really just busy with stuff. I’ve been drinking a lot of liquid chlorophyll, Gary Null style(yes I know he’s a quack.) Also the girls I’ve been meeting have been getting more and more “trainwreckish”(if that’s even possible.) Film at 11.

Fresh and Easy is my new favorite grocery store. It has everything you might need, and one can get in and out of there with minimal human interaction required. It’s all self checkout. There are barely even any employees. The place has all the appealing anonymity and convenience of a behemothic megastore but minus the long lines, extended families and their heathen offspring.

Do you remember back in old L.A. (oh-oh-oh!) when everybody drove a Chevrolet?

The plane landed rather hard and kind of awkwardly swerved a few times on the runway. The pilot even joked about it over the loudspeaker “And after that crash landing… welcome to L.A!”

I caught a cab to Mark Schoenecker’s place on Sunset and LaCienega. It’s hard to believe he’s lived there 10 years, but swoosh! Just like that, there they went. I hopped the fence, and the first thing I noticed was that it’s not as sturdy as it used to be. The thing is held together by like twist ties now, and feels as though it could collapse at any moment while you’re climbing it. Old habits be damned, I’ve decided to use the gate code from now on.

When I got into his apartment, Mark wasn’t home… naturally. I attempted to play a 45 record, “Turn Down Day” by The Cyrkle. It played the song at a slightly slower speed, and then the record player died. Apparently the motor is bad but every three months or so you can turn it on, and it will manage to play half of a song. I had dinner at Poquito Mas(studio plate) and wandered around Sunset for a bit. Drank a tall can of Pabst blue ribbon and fell asleep in the mustard yellow living room chair, until Mark got home and woke me up.

Saturday was the party at VJA’s house in Malibu that I flew in for. I got to see some people I hadn’t seen in a long time. I met some new people I’m not likely to see for quite a while and wish I could see more of. Sitting on the deck, overlooking the beach I thought to myself “There are worse ways to spend a Saturday afternoon.” I love old friends. I never forget them, and the ones who never forget me are the ones I love the most.

Sunday, after riding around in their Volvo listening to “Sounds of the 70’s,” (whoa-ho it’s magic…you knowwww”) I had lunch at the Beverly Center with Greg and Mark. We talked about that rapper dude “Dolla” that got shot there, and Schoenecker floated some of his own theories about the unresolved death. We walked around Melrose for bit, went into some stores but didn’t buy anything. Sunday evening we were lucky enough to have dinner with Alex Berg at Cafe Med. She discussed her dating misadventures, and we listened attentively and occasionally chimed in with some bad advice or the sort of useless insight you’d expect out of the type of guy she’s probably never been involved with. She wanted us to go with her to The Darkroom, but Mark absolutely would not go. I really did actually want to go, but it just didn’t materialize.

Monday I met up with Kathy and we walked for a long time and then had brunch somewhere on Melrose before she drove me to the airport. I tried to wake Mark up to say goodbye, but he didn’t awaken. So I left him a note on his fridge that said something like “Thanks Mark! Be sure and go down on someone on my behalf love, b.a.” Knowing him that note will probably fossilize itself there for several years.

I can think of worse ways to spend a saturday afternoon…

Schoenecker casts his eyes upon the briny deep

“Dispersion” art exhibit at LAX by Meeson Pae Yang

Probably the closest I’ll ever get to experiencing space travel in my lifetime.