Gas Is Expensive. Right?

Took care of some loose ends today. Paid up the car insurance and got the rate sorted out with State Farm. Dropped all my Best Buy rebate checks in the bank. I'm now the proud owner of a Georgia Driver's license. $20 for a 5 year license seems fair to me. And the DMV here is nothing compared to Philly. It took about 45 minutes, but it was very organized and the people were normal looking. And I made sure to have on my finest Supersuckers T-shirt when they snapped my "angry" face picture for the new ID.

What I can't seem to find in this town is a decent tailor. I have some jeans I need hemmed and I can't find a place anywhere close by that will take care of me. This is what my life has resorted to, a laundry list of errands makes the papers. Speaking of laundry I guess I should do some of that as well today. Having a day off in the middle of the week is useless. Especially here. Everyone I know here is working, so that means I spend the day in my head, being lazy, watching TV, surfing the internet. Wait, who am I kidding? I did this exact shit up North on my off days. Thank God I have Kanye West here with me to teach me the ways of being a pimp.

I wrote out a ton of postcards today to people, a little greeting to let them know I'm alive and that I miss them. I'm a huge fan of the postcard as correspondence. It's more personal than email or a voicemail, but you can be brief. I have a tendancy to give away too much or ramble on when I am working on a letter. It's like I approach a letter like a suicide note, I don't want anything to be unclear, so I repeat things or clarify shit over and over. It's annoying to me, so I can only imagine how people feel when they read this here online diary or whatever this is.

Audio Slavery

Apparently after years of resistance I have finally warmed up to the voice of Mr. Chris Cornell. I was never a Soundgarden guy back in the grunge days, mainly because the Indian guy scared me (Kim is a girl's name buddy) and this chick Michelle I fancied really, really, really thought Chris Cornell was hot and that annoyed me.

But living in the land of Alternative Music Radio I began liking this song and I kind of suspected it was Audioslave, but wasn't quite sure. And then I heard this other song and I liked that a lot and was kind of thinking it might be Audioslave again. Anyway, I scored the latest album off my music stealing cousin T-Bone and gave it a good listen tonight. Yeah. I like Audioslave. Pretty funny considering that I saw them live once and they were completely forgettable. But maybe a band like this needs time to gel and that is why this new jammy jam is kind of good.

Now he's no Dali Lama or nothing, but this song really struck a chord with me...

Someone finds salvation in everyone
And another only fame
Someone tries to hide himself
Down inside their selfish brain
Someone swears his true love
Untill the end of time
Another runs away
Separate or united?
Healthy or insane?

To be yourself is all that you can do
To be yourself is all that you can do

Disappointed

Dear XXXXXXX,

I guess maybe I was thinking that we could have a two way relationship, not like a relationship-relationship, but like a friendship. Something that is a little back and forth, give and take. I pretty much put myself out there and can't even get a sentence out of you. Does this tell me that what I thought was a friendship was merely a situation where I was being used? And now that I kind of am figuring it out, you retreat to hide that fact? If my friend spit forth all the shit I did to you, I would at least try to help them or understand them. Who just decides to completely ignore them? What is that? The depths of my disappointment right now cannot be calculated. I wasn't asking for you to love me if you weren't capable of it. All I wanted was for you to be a friend and it seems like that is beyond your abilities too. Is it because you are young? Is it because you just don't care about me? Your silence is the most powerful tool you can use against me. The not knowing slowly destroys me little by little. The good news is that now I wonder what I saw in you at all.

Sincerely,
Me

Old Boy

This is a crazy Korean movie that features some extreme violence and one hell of a plot twist. I'm calling it Memento meets The Game meets Kill Bill Vol. 1, but I guess it's basically a thriller of sorts. A guy gets kidnapped and imprisioned for 15 years for "fun" by an old enemy. Once he is released from his makeshift prison, he sets out to find out who was behind the kidnapping and torture and vows revenge. Along the way he falls in love with a young girl who implicitly wants to help our hero. Sounds like a standard Steven Seagal potboiler. Until the twists start to unravel and the voilence mounts...this movie is unlike any other that I've seen, and although I picked up on the plot twists ahead of time, I'm still recommending it highly. I love something different in cinema. And this is something different all right.

Garnier, Ben Gibbard and the Best Chick in the World

I've cracked. Right now I am typing this with my head covered in hair dye which stinks indecently, and I'm attempting to type without my glasses on calling on my memory of where the keys are. The new Death Cab For Cutie is the soundtrack for this experience , most likely something they never imagined when recording the record. I'm a grown ass man listening to indie rock and dying my gray hair vainly from my being. I like to make grand statements, so I'm going to make this experiment in hair dye be a rebirth of my spirit today. Last night I took one foot off the ledge thanks to Joolie.


What I have been missing here in Georgia is the feeling of closeness with someone. I've been removed from my support system, my friends and family. I have decided the way to deal with that is to immediately have this undying desire to find a girlfriend. Somehow I have convinced myself that having a girlfriend will make things all better. And that's probably not true. But part of my reason for thinking that way had to do with my feeling that I was alone here. That I'm fighting for survival on my own. And last night I realized that it's not true. I have Joolie. And she has me. She is quickly filling the void of best friend in my life and for that I'm grateful. What makes last night significant is that I finally saw that she is feeling the same way I am and is looking for me to help her just as much as I need her to help me.

A lot of what validates me is being needed. I want to be something to someone. And by being a great friend to Joolie, I feel better about myself. And by her listening to me blather on and on about all the shit that goes on in my head, she is being exactly what I need her to be. A friend.

Flesh. Flesh for Fantasy.

So my virtual online Fantasty Football draft went down today without any problems. It wasn't like the real thing, but I think I actually liked doing it this way. Couple of web cams, 12 people on 12 computers located throughout the USA...ah, technology.

Anyways. Here's my dope ass team. I'm gonna win it all this year. I can feel it.

Pink Flamingos
Carson Palmer and Joey Harrington at QB.
Willis McGahee, DeShaun Foster and Kevin Jones at RB.
Joe Horn, Donald Driver, Justin McCareins and Mark Clayton at WR.
Jeb Putzier and Marcus Pollard at TE.
Kasay and Tynes at Kicker.
Colts and Vikings Defense/Special Teams.

Every Day Should Have a Theme Song!

My new theme song by Adam Richman. It's called Loneliness.


i'm sitting alone on the sidelines
warming the bench for the meantime
could settle the pain if i'm put in the game
‘cause working the team is when i shine

i'm driving myself through the country
the loneliness stands to confront me
but seeking another in a long lost lover
is a sure-fire way to go hungry

‘cause each day burns by with regret
a wasted, abandoned cigarette
and all this time would be a sweeter ride
with someone by my side

so i don't want to sleep a wink or
pour myself another drink
another table set for one
when all the world is having fun
i don't want to be the only
one who's feeling lonely
standing faceless in a crowd
anonymous, i can't be proud of
falling into solitude
the lonely life i always knew
i don't want to be so lonely
i don't want to be lonely

i'm tired of keeping my secrets
so you can feel free to repeat this
half of the time all the pleasure is mine
and the other half serves as my weakness

i'm tired of sleep without dreaming
i'm tired of touch without meaning
i'm tired of falling beyond the extremes
and i'm tired of in-betweening

thrills and needs won't mix
i don't need those kicks
i will get my fix through limericks on loneliness

Don't Drink and Drive (into Madness)

Only once in a blue moon will I go back to something I've written on here and delete it. Not out of shame, but out of clarity. I feel horrible today, maybe getting sick or maybe just really hungover. Am I ready to face another day? I guess so. Am I overly dramatic about things? Naturally. I'm not a suicidal person, and I'm not manic depressive. I'm alonely is all. Yesterday was one of those rock bottom moments that everyone has from time to time. And so it goes...

The Taste of Corona

It's Friday, early evening and I've decided that the best way to handle this shitty, horrible day at work today is to suck them back. A good old fashion drink til you die situation. I'm scared that the easiest answer today for me was to stop and get some beer. I don't want to be the kind of guy who drinks away his problems, but fuck if I didn't crave a beer the minute I got into my car in the parking lot. I'm a mserable fuck to begin with, so I can't imagine where I'll be 12 beers from now. Espcecially since I'll most likely be wasted by 9 PM and the night will be young at the point.

Maybe tonight I'll make a fool of myself? Maybe I'll get beat up or pick a fight and actually win? I need something to happen that will shake up my system. I'm feeling like I'm on the edge of cliff and I want to jump off. I'm not coping with my emotions, I'm not sleeping, I'm not feeling connected to anyone in this town. Friendless. That's how I feel. Except for you Mr. Corona you mexican wunderkind. You love me. Don't you?

I ain't saying she a gold digga, but she ain't messing with no broke niggas. get down girl, go ahead get down.

Identity Crisis

I wonder what it would be like to be someone else. I'm comfortable in my own skin for the most part, but I can't help wondering what it would be like to be a completely different person. Maybe a really smart fucker, like scientist. Maybe someone who is successful. Maybe someone who is rich.

I'm not unsatisfied with my life, or who I am, but sometimes I feel as though I've hit a wall. I'm stuck a bit. I dabble in shit that occupies my time, but I don't really pursue my passions like I wish I could. And I'm definitely not happy with my personal life. I know that it's silly to think that if I looked different but had the same personality, I'd have no problem meeting the right woman. But man, sometimes I can't help but think it's true. I'm totally shallow. I admit it. I'm attracted to attractive people. And I know that I'm not particularly attractive. So it's not fair for me to expect a really hot, sexy single lady to actively pursue a fat, lazy, diarrhea prone NICE GUY. And by the way, she would have to be the aggressor since I'm so fucking ashamed of myself at times that I'm unable to formulate any sort of style or approach.

Part of me wishes I could be someone else so I can see what I'm missing. If I could be a married guy with an ugly wife for like a night or two, maybe I would see that it might not be so bad. Or if I was able to become a guy who has no problem getting the girl maybe I would see that the kind of girl I'm attracted to isn't worth getting. But then again, what if she is?

Aw, fuck. I'm actually bumming myself out with this whole line of thinking. This is what I get for deciding that I have to write today. Sometimes I force myself to write on here....to keep it going, to "do" something other than get up, go to work, come home, eat, watch TV, fall asleep. And when I force it, sometimes my mind goes to places that I don't want to go. Like this shit. I'm me. I'm not going to be anyone but me. And I keep hoping that it will be good enough for someone.

Momma's Boy

It's not any sort of special day, like her birthday or the anniversary of her death, but I've been thinking about my mom lately. Maybe because I recently saw the Real World episode where Danny buries his mother or maybe it's because my sister Candace sent me some pictures from the days of yore that featured my mother in all her pre-child birthing bliss? Maybe it's because I'm so detached from my family and friends? But really, does it matter why? Sometimes it's good to think about the dead. Perhaps it helps them not to have died in vain. If we don't think about them, their entire existence is kind of diminished. At least that's what I tell myself.





In looking at this picture, I see such promise in my young mother's eyes. She has no idea that she will go on from this wedding day to have 10 pregnancies and 6 children, or 2 marriages, or lots of days where making ends meet was an incredibly challenging task. You can see the anticipation in her face, or rather her fear. This childbride rides in the back seat next to her father on her way to what may turn out to be a mistake. The argument could be made that it was in fact a mistake considering my parents divorced within 4 years of this very photo, but mom would say it wasn't a mistake because she had me and my sister. When she used to tell me that very thing when she was alive, I always brushed it off as mom-sense, you know motherly nonsense. The kind of stuff that makes you say "aw, Ma" or "whatever Mom." But now that she is gone I'm kind of glad that she did occasionally tell me that she was happy to have me, even if being married to my father was "unbearable". Those little asides that made me cringe at times turned out to be the same things that I recall when I get a little reminiscent. I try to think about how I would be as a person if she never did tell me that she loved me or that she was proud of me. Would I be a completely empty and useless person now? The effect that our parents have on us, even from the grave, is pretty intense. I don't think that I would be so compassionate or caring if I didn't have a decent role model in my mother.

Now like I said, it's not Mother's day or anything like that. It's just that sometimes she shows up in my thoughts and I am alright with that.

I'm not gonna lie, I wish she was here.

And I know she wishes she was here.

But she isn't.

Or is she?

My Second Job is Living

I'm so out of sorts since moving that I've not been really keeping good track of what I have paid, didn't pay, need to pay and all that shit. I'm always finding some bill laying around that I guess I need to pay and I'm sure if I actually sat down and figured it out I would be broke. Instead, I just live in this little bubble where I don't have to worry about anything related to money.

I still haven't done the driver's license change over, although I did get Georgia car insurance that apparently jumped up several hundred dollars after I left the State Farm office last month. Apparently transferring between states even with the same broker is a pain in the ass. GA is waiting on PA for some shit and in the mean time wants to rape me for $400 next week. I called them the other day and was like, "no." Not happening. So they stopped my direct billing and we will wait to see how it's going to play out. In the interim I'm not sure if I actually have car insurance?

Speaking of car shit, I think I need brakes. And an oil change. God, having a car is a pain in the ass.

And speaking of cars, looks like I've been recruited to help my friend Syd try to buy one in the next couple of weeks. Looks like little Lindsey, a Philly girl who ventured here with the rest of us, is bouncing back to the Philly region this coming weekend. And since Lindsey is the wheels between her and Syd, someone needs a car ASAP. But first Syd needs a license. And that's a whole other issue. I remember all too well what it was like to go the license route as an adult. Total nightmare. And here in Georgia getting a driving test date is no joke. Syd called last Wednesday and they were like "How's 9/15 at Noon?" That's a long time to sweat it out and worry about getting some wheels...

I have off this coming weekend, but don't really have anything on the horizon. And lately I've been less than thrilled by not only what is in the theaters, but what I'm getting from Netflix. This week I tried in vain to watch Prozac Nation (uh), The Ballad of Jack and Rose (zzzzz) and I have Brown Bunny in house which I'm certain will stink. So I better come up with something interesting to do this weekend. Maybe a road trip to Athens or Columbia, SC? Something short and sweet. Or maybe, just maybe I'll venture out to a bar and meet some fucking people. Oh wait, I have that oil change to attend to. And my fantasy football draft on Saturday at 4 PM. Maybe I'll just get drunk and stay in, alternating between puking and crying?

Heat Index

This is like Jungle Heat. Like Africa hot. I went out today to snap some pictures and almost immediately came down with heat stroke. Ok, maybe I'm being slightly dramatic. But man, the heat is no joke here today. It's beautiful out, but no one is out to enjoy it. Everyone is inside rocking the air conditioning.

Anyways, I managed to take some shots that are up on Flickr. If ya care.

40 Year Old Virgin

I can't recall the last time there were two really laugh out loud comedies released in the same summer. Maybe the year Austin Powers, American Pie and South Park came out within 5 weeks of each other in the late 90's? In any case, the 40 Year Old Virgin is much like Wedding Crashers in that it plays up the raunch perfectly and has some laugh out loud moments that will shock you and possibly make you cry or pee yourself from laughing so hard.

However, also like Wedding Crashers, this movie goes on for longer than it should. Running almost 2 hours, I think the blame has to go to Judd Apatow who is used to directing television shows. A lot of extraneous scenes that don't really move the plot along or repeat the same point are kept in as if this were the first 3 episodes of a new dramedy on FOX all smushed together. On the plus side, the length of the movie actually works to give it heart. Instead of being raunchy for the sake of raunch, the movie is underneath the comedy a bizarre love story between a 40 year old who is afraid of sex and a sexy grandma.

The cast of supporting characters does a fine job of shaping out the circle of friends we all have in life. Paul Rudd plays the hopeless romantic that can't get over being cheated on by his ex, Seth Rogan is the pot smoking, grunge era cast off who talks about all the ways you need to act to get a woman but never seems to get the girl himself and Romany Malco plays the philandering homeboy who manages to teeter the line between being gross and yet accurate in his assesments of women just as he does between being a stereotype and a real person that we all know. But the real stand out here is Steve Carell as Andy the Virgin.

Carell shows a range that I'm willing to guess not many people thought he was capable of. His work on The Daily Show and now the american verison of The Office is a bit one dimensional, it's cruel comedy and he's a genius at that. In this film, Carell brings an emphatic vibe to his lovable virgin and does so without making you get too creeped out by him. Obviously Carell isn't a virgin, but capturing the subtlety of how a guy who is a 40 year old virgin would act makes you absolutely believe that he is. I realize he ain't no Merrill Streep, but I don't think a guy like Jim Carrey or David Spade or Jack Black, all very funny actors, could have made you really committ to the idea of this guy Andy being a virgin. And Carell does so with absolute ease.

GMail

If anyone has a GMail account that they don't want, let me know. I'm looking for an email service to use for the Poison Scooter.

The logo is almost done. Soon enough the marketing blitz will begin and I will be advertising on this very blog to annoy all of my faithful readers.

I'm Emo. Ok?

I've taken some ribbing lately about being emo because I'm comfortable opening discussing my dissatisfaction with my love life. I busted out my trusty Astrology book last night, it's something I consult to remind myself of why I'm so fucked in life, and as usual I confirmed my suspicions that I'm just destined to be a nut job. A lonely nut job at that.

Among other things, I came across this tid bit:

"Scorpio's relationships are usually complicated. This is not surprising when you consider that Scorp's can be simultaneously generous and affectionate; violent and unpredictable; in the sunniest of moods there is always a hint of an imminent change in the weather. Scorpio's are deeply loyal to friends but are also intensely jealous and possessive. Scorp's cannot tolerate the thought that anyone he loves might have a yearning, or even a simple yen, for anyone else. With Scorp's it's usually all or nothing at all. Moderation and restraint are not in Scorp's emotional vocabulary."

So apparently I'm not really into anyone of the opposite sex talking to my female friends which would explain why I feel on a constant roid rage when I go out here with Joolie and Sydney. This type of behavior is not winning me any points with either of them, but I honestly can say that I don't feel like I have any ability to control my emotions when it surfaces. I'm so fucking insecure to begin with, and then you pepper in what the stars are doing to me and I'm basically screwed.

Anyway, I page on to the chapter about my Amorous Nature to see if there's any hope and here's what I discover. Or rather, here's what I already knew written down in painstaking detail.

"Scorpio has so much energy and passion you'll have no trouble seducing him - if that's what you want. What is harder is to form a relationship with him. This is not because he doesn't want a relationship, for it is, in fact, exactly what he does want. He is an intensely sensitive man who can be easily hurt and who often feels lonely and unfulfilled. The problem is that jealousies and unexpressed angers are very difficult to live with. In matters of love he always knows the cost of what he wants. If the cost is too high - emotionally, financially, or otherwise - he won't haggle. He'll simply walk away. The Scorpio man is secretive and hard to fathom, although he often appears likeable, affable, easygoing. What you see on the surface is what he wants you to see. But even when he is being most amiable, and he can be, there's a simmering danger to this man."

I sound like a fucking lunatic. No wonder women don't want anything to do with me. It all makes sense now, I ooze like a jerk off pheromone that repels women. Things got progressively worse when I started to go through the various star signs of the women in my life to try and make sense of why things don't seem to connect between us. Most scenario's point to my insane jealousy being too much for most signs to handle, with the harshest words reserved for a union between Scorpio and Sagittarius. "An affair without a future." Ouch. That hurts.

Now I was at the point in my reading when I pretty much had decided that my fate was sealed, I'm never going to fall in love or be happy. I wear my emotions on my sleeve, I always say too much or the wrong thing. On the one hand, I'm giving and loyal and I'm committed, but on the other hand I'm so intense it's like a stalker. Not intentionally, as indicated by my findings, but nonetheless, this behavior is killing my sex life. Why does a guy who wants to be with a woman and breathe her in and spend his time, money and hopes with have to be seen as possessive or jealous? What a bum rap.

Lest you think I'm all bad, I made it a point to find something in this fucking book that says some good things about the Scorpio. Yeah, I know we are intense, obsessive, fiercely competitive, but all of these qualities seem like double edge swords. And don't really roll off the tongue as redeemable or likeable qualities.

After much scouring, I came upon this passage that I'm hoping saves me a little. When I read it, I was like "hey, that's me!" Well, I said that about pretty much everything I read, but this part I was proud of saying it.

"Suspicious and wary, you are reluctant to trust your heart to anyone. But once you do, you love deeply."

Okay, so it's like a back handed compliment, but I'm reaching here people. My other choice was "Scorpio needs a positive avenue of expression-in career or love or creative achievement - or your feelings turn inward, become imprisoned, at times even destructive," which doesn't say much at all on the positivity front.

In closing, I'd like to say that yes, I'm slightly emo. Okay, maybe more than slightly. But it's not my fault. The ending paragraph in the chapter that describes Scorpios reads...

"What all Scorpios have in common is intensity of feeling. Emotion not only rules, it characterizes you. You are passionate in love, and passionate about everything in which you become involved: work, relationships, hobbies, causes."

Reality TV Destroys My Being

I'm too tired to sleep, so let's talk about tonight's television viewing experience.

Tommy Lee is a douche and his going to college show is almost as pathetically staged as Blow Out. I'm sort of sick of the "look at me, I'm a celebrity" reality show. The Osbourne's created a fucking monster with this stuff.

So Kaysar got voted back into Big Brother, thanks in part to my 121 votes for him, and is already on his way out again since that cunt Jennifer back stabbed him. Big Brother is a show that I find fascinating for the simple fact that the people in the house refuse to be able to strategize correctly ever, but what should happen is so obvious to the viewers. I saw this whole thing playing out exactly as it did and was helpless to stop it and I feel cheated. I'm at the point where I basically wait for a person to contradict what they said the very week before and I get acid indigestion from it.

Sweet Sixteen is back and the first little pudge ball was very, very punchable. And isn't that really why you watch it?

I'm still sticking with Rockstar, curiousity has gotten the best of me on this one. I absolutely fast forward through the drivel that comes out of Navarro's cake hole, but I have this need to see if Marty, Mig or JD are going to make it to the end. And I really have a boner for Jessica Robinson even though I dislike her whole persona more and more each week. Sidenote: Brooke Burke is kind of hot. Never really was a fan of her, but some of her outfits make me feel funny.

Broken Hearted Rock And Roll Star Shouts Out Loud

I've just devoured my second book in a week and thought I would share my thoughts. So You Wanna Be a Rock & Roll Star: How I Machine-Gunned a Roomful of Record Executives and Other True Tales from a Drummer's Life by Jacob Slichter is an insider look at how the music business really works. Now with my background, about half of this book is kind of a recap of what I went through about two years prior to Jacob, who was the drummer for Semisonic. I related to a lot of the situations that Jacob was forced into, especially considering how as a drummer (or in my case a secondary rapper) you are somewhat expendable. You never have the chance to really enjoy the spoils of "being a rock star" since you never really know where the money is going or for how long it will last. And when it's over, you really have to venture into the unknown and become a regular person again. All in all, the story of Semisonic is interesting in that they actually acheived success both in America and Europe, albiet with different singles from the same record. I guess the book is vanilla in the sense that no one gets kicked out of the band or has a drug problem, the guys in Semisonic are just regular guys who write songs and hit the road. I dont' know, I was kind of a fan of Semisonic and I was in a band and my band was hard to market, so maybe this book just speaks to me more than it will to you but I'm glad I read it.

On the musical tip, I finally watched I Am Trying To Break Your Heart about the plight of Wilco to put out Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. Quite another fascinating look at the horror show that is the music biz. Here's a band that is critical acclaimed and has a strong audience that supports them and they turn in their masterpiece and get sent packing by Reprise Records. Along the way to finally wresting away ownership of the record and ultimately selling it back to BarNone Records (a divison of parent company Warner Brothers, as is Reprise) for 3 times what it cost to make, the band loses long time guitarist Jay Bennett...all while the cameras are rolling. Unlike that crappy Metallica movie, this film focuses on the music as art. Jeff Tweedy is a very unassuming and focused songsmith and watching the process unfold organically in black and white with cigarettes everywhere, I was itching to get back into music for about 90 minutes. If the business wasn't so fucked, I'd be back in there.

In lighter musical news, check out The Shout Out Louds record Howl Howl Gaff Gaff. It makes me think that as shitty as the business is, thankfully the end result when it touches my ears can be amazing.

The Place Looks Good

Nice rack!













A room for living.

Loose, footloose...

80's night at the Soulbar around the corner from my house is apparently a big time event here in Augusta, GA. The place is filled beyond capacity by 10 PM, people are moving and grooving, some in costume and you would bet money that the A/C just isn't working. Last night kicked off with a little pre-game session of 007s at my place with John and Andy (the neighbors) and Syd. 007 has got to be the easiest tasting drink I've ever had the good luck of tasting. Little Orange Vodka (O), equal parts OJ (O) and 7 UP (7). Tasty as fuck. Anyway, these drinks were going down easy and on a lot of empty stomachs, the state of drunk was upon us all rather quickly.

When we collectively made our way over to the bar, we all wedged in and began to just pour sweat out of every pore and crevice on our bodies. The dancefloor was in full tilt, bodies wedged up on the tiny stage that I recently saw El Scorcho play a few weeks back. The line at the bar was 10 deep, and way in the back of the place was a familiar face from work, a dude name Andy who works in our warehouse. Eventually Joolie got off work and arrived to join in the madness around 1 AM. From 10 PM to 3 AM, it was drink, dance, drink, dance, sweat, dance, sweat, dance...and let me tell you, dancing with Syd and Joolie as partners is kind of like living in the afterglow. Both girls are incredibly sexy and have the moves to make you lose your shit.

Whenever I am out with Syd and Joolie, and they are sexing it up, the wolves come pouncing. I get into big brother mode and basically feel like it's my job to keep them out of harm's way. This is exhausting work at times, and ultimately just gets me in trouble with all parties. I wanted to punch in the face no less than 5 dudes last night throughout the evening. Thankfully I made it home alive without starting a fight with anyone. I need to work on this issue for real. I'm like uberterritorial about my female friends...and sometimes it makes me seem like a douche.



Anyway, the after party consisted of Joolie, Andy from work and Syd coming back to my place for a night cap and eventually Andy and Joolie made their way home and Syd made her way to the couch to pass out. Having people over to my apartment was cool. It was nice to finally be able to host an event, now that I have my shit and all. I woke up today feeling like a bag of assholes, and I'm currently muddling through a closing shift at work until midnight. But I'm still thinking about last night and how much to my chagrin I'm 2 for 2 on going out in Augusta.

And just when I thought this week couldn't get any better...Brother Mike called and said that 10 DVD's containing all my mp3's and photos are on their way down come Monday. I sent him my busted External Hard Drive and he managed to recover all my stuff from it. What else can happen this week? My movers arrive! My job is going well! My social life is booming! And I will have all my music back!

From the lowest of lows to the highest of highs.