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A Pennsylvania Story part II
February 28, 2005
walt: "and...?"
me: "She was expecting me to apoligize. You know, like, 'I'm sorry' or something."
Walt: "and...?
me: "So I said 'two words, eh? How about 'fuck you.' I don't think she appreciated that very much. Ever since then shits just been going wrong. I'm talking fury of god wrong. Every time I sit back and try to enjoy something messed up shit happens."
Walt: "She dropped a curse on you."
me: "And it's not just me, either. Nobody that I know is safe, it's pretty weird."
Walt: "Scary."
me: "Yeah scary, more like terrifying. I never actually believed in this curse shit until now."
Walt: "Another converted soul..."
me: "Well how would you feel if you were walking around with a goddamn black cloud over your head?"
Walt: "Not too cool, I'd probably drink alot."
me: "I tried that but I just got in more trouble. That shit tracked me down. I didn't leave my apartment for like three months and I still managed to get in a world of shit. That tells me there's more at work here than just me."
Walt: "She's evil, everyone knows it."
me: "Yeah, but only towards guys. Remember my last girlfriend?"
Walt: "Cara..."
me: "Yeah, Cara. Well she hated her...until we broke up, and then they became like, best friends."
Walt: "Cold, absolutely cold."
me: "Yeah, she's gathering minions to rally against me. And I'm not paranoid. This is the truth."
Walt: " So what are you going to do about it?"
me: "What can I do about it?"
Walt: "Burn a piece of her hair at an alter or something. Break the curse."
me: "Hey, if you want to get close enough to her to get a piece of her hair I'm all for it."
Walt: "Well, she may be a bitch but..."
me: "Witch man...witch...."
posted by CQ on Monday, February 28, 2005
A Pennsylvania Story part I
February 27, 2005
Walt: " Didn't you know she was a witch?"
me: "Actually I had my suspicions."
walt: "When did you first meet her?"
me: "I don't know, like, four years ago."
Walt: "Why didn't you just get the hell away?"
me: : "I tried, I tried for three years. I tried everything but she wouldn't listen. No matter what I did she was still there. She followed me over five states."
Walt: "Damn."
me: " Then she moved right down the block from me."
Walt: " In San Francisco?"
me: "No, Boston. I think she's still there."
Walt: "Who cares where she is now."
me: " I do. Shit man, I've got to find her. Either set things right or kill the bitch."
Walt: "It's witch...witch."
me: "well whatever it is man I've got to straighten shit out. She's like, fucking up my life from afar."
Walt: "I told you she was a witch."
me: "I know, I know alright. That's been made pretty fucking clear. Damn my teeth hurt."
Walt: "Well when was the last time you saw her?"
me: "bout eight months ago she showed up at this cafe in Pennsylvania and..."
Walt: "and...?"
me: "...and she said 'you should only have two words to say to me."
part II tomorrow...
posted by CQ on Sunday, February 27, 2005
Send in the Clowns...
February 25, 2005
Why the hell are clowns so creepy? Got to admit though, there's nothing quite so funny as a depressed, wasted clown. Enjoy...
posted by CQ on Friday, February 25, 2005
Saint Petered out
So there I was in Florida, St. Petersburg, where for some reason they have the Salvador Dali museum and there's no young people to speak of. The first night I saw a young girl's bathing suit by the art deco pastel blue pool holding in 57 years of potatoes and butter and steaks and cheese pinching white and red peeling skin. That was about too much for me. People deny the "damaged goods white trash " stereotype, but it's here. It's in the markets, it's on the beaches, in the bars and on the patio by the pool. It drives cars with tinted windows and wears flipflops. It has fake stucco houses and cracked driveways. It floats on giant pink and green styrofoam snakes in swimming pools made in the shapes of Aztec symbols and human organs. Children here feel like tourists.... Tourists here are mostly assholes.
posted by CQ on Friday, February 25, 2005
Tales from the box.
February 23, 2005
Well a few days have passed since the news of HST's demise. I've had a little more time to cogitate on the whole affair. Unfortunately it hasn't helped at all. I think I feel worse about it now than when I first found out. The initial shock has worn off but it doesn't make any more sense. (by the way, I'm going to start including links galore in this blog, often times there's no need for me to say it if it's already been said better. click away) . Anyway, morose is a word that comes to mind. It seems that all my favorite artists tend to come to an untimely end. Charlie Parker, James Joyce, Jaco Pastorius, Jerzy Kosinski, Basquiat, SRV, Kerouc, Mozart and now, Doc Thompson. Of course that's the short list but you get the idea. It always makes me sad to think that none of these great artists will ever create anything again. Not another note, not another brushstroke and never again another paragragh. All we can do is revisit their work and try to bring something new away from it each time. Kosinski, my favorite author of all time, ended his life after finishing a 600+ page opus called The Hermit Of 69th Street. It turned out to be a suicide note of epic proportions. Joyce's Finnegan's Wake is another masterpiece completed just before an author's self imposed death. I wonder what Hunter was working on when he snuffed it. I'm reading Kingdom of Fear right now which was published in '03. I wonder if this was his extended note de suicide. I used to have this crazy girlfriend way back in the day who often said "There is nothing so passionate as a suicide with no note." I'd like to think of it like that. Hunter had passion in spades. I've got alot of time on my hands these days, so you'll probably be hearing from me later. Things get pretty quiet around here at 3 am. I think that's for the best sometimes.
posted by CQ on Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Goodbye Hunter
February 21, 2005
Well, I woke up this morning to that sad sad news of Hunter Thompson's suicide. At first I hoped it was a bogus report. This isn't the case. I'm a little shocked , but I guess I really shouldn't be, the guy was after all, a bit edgy. Alot of people will be writing some lame assed eulogy ie. "Hunter Thompson, best known for..." or "He is survived by..." etc..etc... I think that's an insult to Dr. Thompson. Just go read on of his books and have a snow cone. Which is what he called a coffee cup full of ice filled with Chivas with a pile of cocaine on top of it. Then maybe go shoot some guns off somewhere. Or maybe even run for sheriff of your hometown. That's what he would've done. "Too weird to live and too rare to die," Hunter has been a huge influence on me through the years. His ability to embrace the weirdness of life and get away with it will be always be a benchmark in this, the foul year of our lord, 2005.
posted by CQ on Monday, February 21, 2005
Reflections of Utah...
February 18, 2005
I'm remembering a night I drank cheap beer and wine from a box on a big trampoline outside Salt Lake City. I could only jump for about two minutes becauce the air was so thin. The girl we were staying with was fat, lonely and too stoned to be social...the perfect host. It was a nice house, too domestic for someone her age. I was happy to be there though. The house and the trampoline and her yard formed an archipelego amongst a sea of Mormons. We felt pretty out of place in Salt Lake City but then again, one almost always feels like an intruder in Utah.
There are people in whose minds the Great Wall of Utah is always under construction. The wall is forty feet high, higher in the west to keep people from sneaking into Nevada to gamble. Right now there's a man building a tunnel from Grand Junction CO. all the way to Wendover. I hope he makes it. His tunnel is going directly under the great Salt Flats where the world automobile speed record was set. A few years back somebody welded a stolen solid rocket booster to their car and pressed "GO!" All that was left was a pancake of car metal where it finally hit some rocks. They never did find out who the driver was. All they found were some hair follicles in the sand.
Anyway... our host was passed out for most of the time which gave us ample room to be nosey and look around the place. We weren't looking for anything in particular, just being curious. Sitting on the mantle I found a deck of cards that really caught my eye. The cards each had a different serial killer on them. There was a caricature of each killer on the front and a brief paragragh on the back that highlighted the shining moments of their respective careers. I sat on the couch and read every single one of the cards. Then I made sure to put the deck back exactly where I found it, and, never mentioned it to anyone.
posted by CQ on Friday, February 18, 2005
It's a sick world.
February 16, 2005
OK, well maybe it's not that sick, but it sure can be funny. I'm sick, without a doubt. I guess I spent too much time up there in the cold cold north. It's nothing a gallon of Nyquil, some pork chops and a grilled cheese sandwich can't fix.
So I saw this article today about 12 nuns that went on vacation to England and basically went on an alcohol fueled sex binge. Now THAT'S funny. They got caught and were suspended from nunning indefinately. (Insert bad habit joke here) Apparently they admitted to having sex with 43 men in the two weeks they were "abroad". To the men had the good fortune of "running with the nuns" I say this: at least you have a great story. There is an unending fountain of jokes here; "12 nuns walk into a bar" etc... etc..But I'll refrain for now.
posted by CQ on Wednesday, February 16, 2005
morning joke
February 15, 2005
So there's a turbot and a french horn player both driving and they meet at a crossroads. What's the difference between the two? The turbot was on his way to a gig.
posted by CQ on Tuesday, February 15, 2005
I'm a slacker
February 14, 2005
I know I know, it's been days since I posted here. What can I say? I guess I could say I'm lazy, that would work. More accurately I could say I'm sick. Apparently I didn't get back to the warm south quick enough. Every time we've gone north this year it's snowed. Note to self: next year tour the deep south in February. I'll write more later as I'm off to cogitate on the absurdity of Valentine's Day and all that goes with it. Did you buy someone a diamond? Suckers!
posted by CQ on Monday, February 14, 2005
Bridget Jones and Humpty Dumpty
February 11, 2005
So we're in Morgantown West Virginia and it's cold cold cold. We played with Acoustic Syndicate last night who, by the way, rock. There was this crazy chick ther who looked exactly like Bridget Jones. No matter where one went in the place, she kept popping up. She always had a fresh beer. She talked in a way that no matter how well you could hear her you couldn't understand what she was saying. It was a drunken slur or anything, just some alternate reality language. I was not alone in this observation. Eventually she was just reciting Mother Goose. She had a knack for it though. Like, cool melodies and weird inflections darting through all the old school hit of Mother Goosedom. By the time we left she was dancing with a tiny mechanical gyratting Jar Jar Binks toy. Oh the humanity...
posted by CQ on Friday, February 11, 2005
Just maybe...
February 8, 2005
OK, I've thought about it alot and maybe I owe Sir Paul a little apology. I'm definately not going to apologize for making fun of the performance. Paul, there was no excuse for that. However, after inspecting things a little more I can't help but think about Paul's wardrobe choice. Red and black. Red shirt, black star. The colors of anarchy. Black star, the most internationally recognized symbol for anarchy. Maybe Paul had a clue after all. I'm going to try to give him the benefit of the doubt, after all he did have a part in "Love Me Do".
posted by CQ on Tuesday, February 08, 2005
It's not just my guitar that weeps...
February 7, 2005
Does anybody remember when Paul Macartney was considered edgy? I'm too young to remember it in real time, but never mind that. We've all read or seen or heard about it. Remember when Chris Farley was interviewing Sir Paul on SNL? "So, you were in the Beatles. Remember that?" Well I guess someone should ask him again because obviously he doesn't remember that at all. It seems that to be asked to be the superbowl halftime show shows two things. You are pretty much at the top of your money making curve and at the bottom of your music making lifespan. Live and Let Die? I'm depressed. I expected them to not have any females at all this year as a vast portion of America's youth is still horrendously scarred from last year's tit heard round the world. Thank god the fcc is still here to protect us from ourselves. So, in making sure that we're all "safe" they gave the nod to Sir Paul, whose biggest risk in the last 30 years was giving his late wife a microphone. Where's the rock, Paul? Did you forget the rock? On a lameness scale of 1 to 10, I give it a 9...number 9.....number9......number9........
posted by CQ on Monday, February 07, 2005
Well It's Official
February 3, 2005
OK, so I'm a day late. Yesterday was groundhog day, quite possibly the dumbest day/tradition of the year. Yesterday was also the State of the Union address. DEFINATELY the dumbest day of the year. Since there's probably a million people out there going on about the latter I'll stick with old Punxsutawney Phil. First things first, Phil claims that there are officially 6 more weeks of winter this year. When he emerged from his burrow yesterday, which incidently isn't a burrow at all, he saw his shadow hence the prediction. What most people don't realize is that there are lots of weather predicting groundhogs. They have one down here in the south (Georgia) named what else, General Lee. There's also one in Canada. I can't remember his name right now but I do know it's an albino. I think it also plays hockey. There are some European versions but we needn't concern ourselves with them. Punxsatawney Phil has somehow stolen all the glory. Maybe because he's 119 years old. That's right, 119! I guess anything that lives that long deserves some kind of credit for something. I suppose my one question is; how difficult is it to say that there'll be 6 more weeks of crappy weather in the Northeast at the beginning of February? I could've told you that. That's why I live in the south. Maybe next year we could have Phil give the State of the Union and Dubya could wax meteorologic.
posted by CQ on Thursday, February 03, 2005
A poem...
February 2, 2005
you're wearing short shorts
I'm wearing long shorts
You're getting eaten by ants
You should've been smarter
and put on a garter
or maybe even worn some long pants.
posted by CQ on Wednesday, February 02, 2005
And so it begins...
February 1, 2005
Well, here we are, it starts aqui! I've always wanted a place where I could vent, think out loud, opine (is that a word?) and just generally ramble. All the other bands I've been in were smart enough to stop this from happening. That's what is great about a duo. I was in one once before, back in the day in Boston but it turned out to be more of a duover in the end. "This will be a cool place to post updates from the road" I said. And yes, it will be. It will be more than that though. "This will be a great place to explore and exalt the triumphs and shortcomings of all mankind!" I thought. Well perhaps that's a bit lofty, we'll have to wait and see. Most likely this will be a place for me to piss some people off, inadvertently of course. Sometimes I have a knack for that. I'm happy to have a go at it though. This is kickawesome...
posted by CQ on Tuesday, February 01, 2005
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