I don't need no car

Thanks to Albert, I know what a Scraper Bike is.

Those guys look so happy about their bicycles.

When she appears blithely unaware of the Dostoyevskian pall of death hanging over New York City, he compliments her on her legs.

It's a good thing I tan and not burn. I have that farmers tan thing because I'm the guy who wears the polo shirt to the beach.
Yesterday we trucked it out to Coney Island for the Siren Music Festival. We trucked it out of the city around 1:30, not really caring to see the first half of the acts. I know it sounds, bad, but I just couldn't hear Parts and Labor or Dragons of Zynth anymore. We stopped by my apartment and thought it'd be nice to actually walk through my neighborhood to the next stop over. The houses there are real nice, set back from the street with huge front yards and wrap around porches. It didn't feel very much like the Brooklyn I was living in. It was very...quiet.
Anyway, we spent some time at the beach. It was the first time I'd ever been to Coney Island, so it was surreal for me. Tons of people. Very very crowded. But now that I live so close I can head down any time I want.
We caught Beach House, Broken Social Scene, Islands(which was awesome when they played Jellybones and I Was Born a Unicorn)and parts of Stephen Malkmus.
I have to spend the rest of today drinking a lot of water and heading to band practice uptown around 4:30. After that I have to finish my Twilight Zone Marathon.

There's still a list of things I need for the new apartment.

The world is quieter now. We just have to listen.

I finally got around to watching I Am Legend. For my love of all things post-apocalyptic, I have to say this was the worst. I mean, the book was great because it dealt more with the fact that Robert Neville was the only survivor, and it was a bit Shaun of the Dead-ish. The movie though was just CGI'd straight to hell. But I did like Will Smith's acting.
My next two days off I'm going to spend watching The Twilight Zone and John Adams.

Moving has been sort of stressful, having to downsize and buy all new things. It's a bit cathartic though, getting rid of all of my things. Starting over with new stuff.

This weekend is The Siren Music Festival. I think I may just show up for the tail end.

I've never felt more alive on a Saturday than updating my Google Earth from 4.1 to 4.3.

I've finalized my moving situation today. After seeing only three and narrowing it down to two, I'm going with the place in Prospect Park South. It's in a house, with a backyard. I'm slowly getting things together to move.
40 38 51.41" N 73 58 10.01W (Google Earth?)

Yesterday I stumbled upon a working Smith-Corona Super 12 Electric Typewriter. After casual deliberation (Erin would've bought it for me if I wouldn't have bought it) It's loud and whirs and clacks. It doesn't have auto correct, so know I have to be more careful. I think it has something to do with changing your muscle memory from a computer keyboard to a set of keys, and I remember I was a B average typist in school. We will see how it turns out.

The Fourth of July was spent with Chris on a rooftop here in Bushwick at the Ollie Dior building. The roof there is huge, and they had a slip and slide and tons of PBR. I know it's where Beirut practices, but I wasn't looking around. The lofts there aren't too bad, and they come completely furnished. It was hard to watch fireworks because they were everywhere. We had to keep spinning around. We saw at least four planes overhead, and wondered it would be like to see fireworks from the window of a plane.

So tell me, what's your secret?

I've always been a big fan of Nick Swardson. For some reason this struck me as great.
Plus, it's inspiring.

In all things of nature there is something of the marvelous.

I finally got to leave NYC.
Granted it wasn't too far out, but it was far out enough to remind myself that there is other things to do outside of the city.

We got lost a couple of times, but it was the good kind of lost, the kind of lost where you don't mind becuase of the company your with and actually getting to do something.
We drove up to Rockefeller State Park Preserve through a lot of historic upstate New York (Sleepy Hollow was most awesome.)
The Preserve for the most part was empty. We passed a few joggers, but other than that it was eerily quiet. We delved off the path here and there, mostly because I wanted to walk through a large field. We talked a lot about living in the city, and about growing up far away from NYC and the whole transition thing. It's weird being up there in the woods and the lake and then the next minute back waiting for the Q train. It was fun though, a good break. I saw a family of Turkey.

Now I'm working overtime practically every day this month in order to move. I found one place in Bushwick, but after looking at the apartment I decide that I could do a lot better. I mean, considering I live in a Yellow House situation right now, I'm always looking. I can't take living with seven people anymore. How could Jacob and Micah do this?

I made pancakes this morning, so I'm going to see if they were worth it.

Did IQs just drop sharply while I was away?

I just slept for 16 hours.
I have to buy Sigur Ros tickets next week.

O Valencia

What a great concept...
What a shitty video.

I'm moving soon. Out of Bushwick (unfortunately). I saw a place in Prospect Heights today that was amazing.

Haaapy Anniversaary, Happy Happy Happy Anniversaaarrrry.

Yesterday was Fountain House's 60th Anniversary Block Party. During the whole thing I could only think of the anniversary song from Welcome To The Dollhouse.
We had crepes, and indian food, and the usual Manhattan block party fare. Oh and the added bonus of sexy Frederick's of Hollywood sexy lingerie booth! Amazing. Truly. Why the hell would you come to a block party to buy satin teddy's. Bizarre.
But overall a good time. Afterwards L'Abri and I walked across the Williamsburg Bridge and then hit up Amy's for a bit. We found tiny furniture on Leonard Street that made me feel bad if there were real Littles living in Brooklyn.

I had no idea you had that much fire in you — skyrockets pinwheels, roman candles.

This makes me feel very Woody Allenish:



It's a student play adapting Haruki Murakami's short story "On Seeing the 100% Perfect Girl One Beautiful April Morning". It's in Murakami's The Elephant Vanishes.

I just finished watching Doug Benson's documentary Super High Me. 30 days without pot. 3o days of non-stop smoking.
I'm going to S'mac!

Where was the holocaust?

Chris and I bought a couple of 40's last night (King Cobra, Ballantine) and popped in my latest Netflix, Cannibal Holocaust.
There was very little cannibalism and no holocaust at all. Please, do yourself a favor and just go rent a some other grindhouse movie.

I'm almost finished with
The Devil's Highway. It really hits home for me. It's very gruesome, very real. It's propelled me to start collecting information for people who are immigrants and also suffer from mental illness. There's a lot of different organizations here in NYC, there just not really collected anywhere. I got the go ahead from the supervisors, so that's my homework for the next few months. I'll post about my findings as I go along.

What the hell happened to the weather? I was all geared up to go see Vampire Weekend yesterday at Central Park, and after being balls humid all day it just rains all night.

I was blinded by that....Zephyr.

Simultaneously the worst and most "you're gonna love..." movie: The Piano Teacher.



And because I love Mastodon and Bowling...

After a foolish action comes remorse.

I sure said the wrong thing right then. I drank a bottle of wine and rode around the trains for a while, realizing I'm just fucking myself over again.

So, the pesky problem with living in Brooklyn, sometimes, is people breaking into your apartment. Or getting mugged. Or both.
My apartment in Bushwick isn't in the greatest location, but it's quite aways from the hubub of Knickerbocker or Myrtle. I'm sort of positioned between the JMZ and the L. There's a lot of construction on my street, but that's usually during the daylight hours, and they're pretty quick. The sound of grinding metal bothered me at first, but now it's just become background noise.
Well- first earlier this week someone tried to break in by breaking the lock to the back door of my apartment. The upstairs neighbor (Gene) brought it to my attention. Someone had kicked/smashed the lock. It was a pretty good job, real forceful. Gene was more pissed I think (He's been living there since the 1960's... I figured maybe he's dealt with this
before).
Anyway, so the initial wave of shock went over us, we called the landlord, his response: "maybe this week or next. Real busy." While the people above me have been robbed a couple of times already were extremely pissed.
So, we set up a block with some stolen 2x4's from the construction sites and felt a wee bit more secure.
So, fucking last night around 4:30am I hear a banging from the back (my room's near the back) and run out of my room. My roomates and various stragglers from last night's party are in the living room and also run out. There's the burglar (maybe the same guy?) trying to beat the door again! He clearly sees us, and keeps at it. Neal walks to the back door and starts yelling at him, they sort of argue, and then the guy disappears into the shadows of all the abandoned buildings. Fuck.
Be amazed at my paint drawing skills. The red circled area is where the guy keeps on trying to get in. I didn't circle the front door because that's been kicked in for a while now.

So, now I'm looking again for an apartment. I think the guys are going to stay, but I don't want to deal with it. Plus our plumbing is bad. So there. I'm trying to move again.

I have an appointment with someone down in Park Slope tonight. Hope it works out.

This is a man we are talking about, right?

I always wondered what it'd be like to be in a family that had a monthly newsletter. Like those coffee chat pages you get at diners, one side about random family "Did You Know..." trivia and the other with Historical family events. The middle is a few paragraphs of current happenings, where everyone is, new jobs.
Alas, we are not that family.
Last night my Dad inadvertantly told me that my younger brother, the middle one, is getting married. His exact words were "You're brother's getting married... I just hope that you're doing alright."
I'm excited for my brother. I think this is awesome. I think being a brother-in-law affords me to drop it at parties, like a business card. I'll hand someone the subtle off-white card with a flick of my wrist, an in black italics it'll read brother-in-law in fine Impact (I'll request Impact font).
I imagine it was a big decision for him. The men in my family are a bit reserved, so express anything permenance or sentimentality to us is a HUGE step. I think it's a good direction he's going in. I'm very proud of him. Although he's a man of few words, I'm going to try and ring him up and coax something out of him. I've never been the older brother to give advice or steer either one of my brothers in one direction or another, but maybe I should.
Commiting to another person is a battle of blood and glory. It's very fine tuned in my opinion. To be able to get someone, or at least to be able to overlook their faults is a action not unlike the focus of some sixth-century Samurai. I can count the number of major relationships on less than five fingers, and each time the thought has crossed my mind. I'm not sure if I have my brother's conviction, but the times are always changing. I treat the institution of marraige like the a sword of Damoclese type situation.
I've never considered myself a commitmentphobe...

New purchases:
Takk...- Sigur Rós
Here Come the 123's- They Might Be Giants (the song Triops Have Three Eyes is especially hard hitting. I have a history with the prehistoric creatures)

My laptop at home may or may not be out of commission, due to an explosion. More on that later.

3 tbsp. cider vinegar strained through a bag of pipe cleaners

Busy, busy weekend.
I have to buy tickets for both the Sigur Ros and Ween shows this week, which will pretty map out my major shows for the summer schedule. I think I've written about Heima before. You should still watch it.
So yesterday, Erin's poet friends arrived by bus and by train to stay here in Brooklyn. They wanted a typical Brooklyn weekend, so instead of sleeping in and then bitching about trains we went out. Mostly just around the Bedford stop.
Which, a strange occurance came about.
I was in Earwax Records buying some old
dntel records when I noticed a very peculiar tattoo. A tattoo of a red and blue donkey being pitchforked. It was my friend Christian from The Brickhaus years ago. He moved from Denton to London to be a bartender somewhere in 2002, and he's just recently been back here for about six months. More and more Denton people are here.

Today I have to buy another wireless router because ours basically sucked. And then there's a Zombie Walk through Williamsburg (basically drinking and dressing up as Zombies) so I may go to that.

Depends on how much scratch I have.

Juliet, the dice were loaded from the start

Go look at my friend Skip's new blog. He gets to update about his life from the opposite coast.

The last few days have been very dreary. Very fucking dreary. Everyone complains about the weather in Texas, how quick it changes, but sorry, Texas has nothing on the condundrum of cloudy days here in NYC.

I'm finishing up Watership Down, the Richard Adams novel, not the lackluster British animated-for-TV-movie they had in the 1970's. I also ordered A Hilarious Comedy and A Wonderful Tale both from Achewood.

Here's a list of Stuff White People Like.

It's not exactly danger, it's... oh, I don't know. Something oppressive... like thunder.

Right now on NPR they're playing every cover of Louie Louie.
It just make me think of the Home Movies episode where Louis Braille meets Louis Pastuer.
This weekend the other half of the duo was in Washington, D.C. at Savor, so I've been left to my own devices.
Which pretty much meant Kennedy's Fried Chicken time. I don't know what it is about their food, it's not quite addictive because to actual sit and think about it is stomach churning. I cut of hood Chinese from my diet (too many risks) so Kennedy's is probably the only unhealthy vice in our neighborhood.
Today is the second half of the 9th Street International Food Festival. I'm going to get fucking Overeaters Anonymous on the Texas chili tent. I saw them setting up this morning, and the gleam in the chef's eye from Good and Plenty To Go made me feel confident.

hour later update: The Good and Plenty guy was swamped. I totally got a Crepe. I hate Crepes, but this one is banging like an West L.A. late afternoon BBQ where the meat is about to run out and people are getting together for some backyard party elsewhere.

Apple bottom jeans and boots with the fur.

Sunday's have been regulation days for me to get coffee at Amy's Bread and spend an hour reading The Village Voice.

Erin and I spent a rapid fire week were where we only spent a total of ten hours home. After work I spent the afternoon in line to see Ironman with Jacob and Rob. That took a while since it was sold out every time we tried to go. It was awesome. I'm glad Marvel has a real dick of a character and that they're not P.C. about dumbing down Tony Stark at all.

I've been traveling back and forth to Bed-Stuy (Amy's old neighborhood!) to feed Rob and Diana's cats. This has given me a chance to play Grand Theft Auto IV and mess around on their Wii. Actually, I just watched cable tv for about thirty minutes. Indiana Jones and The Temple of Doom was on. I couldn't help myself.
Bed-Stuy, their area at least, is really quaint and postcard-ish. It's a nice trip (30 minutes, tops) so it's not bad. Get to see a lot of far off Brooklyn.
Yesterday we partcipated in the NAMI Walk to raise awareness on mental illness in NYC. It was a short jaunt from South Street Seaport halfway up the Brooklyn Bridge and back. A good stroll for a Saturday morning. We then trucked it out to Astoria to the Bohemian Hall and Beer Garden, but we were all to tired to get tanked.

Today is laundry day and going to watch West 47th Street, a documentary about where I work. Fountain House is a radical offshoot of typical nental health services in the U.S. It was and still is a very controversial place. I suggest everyone check it out.

Oh yeah, go here if you're in Bushwick.

Damn you Tad.

Finally had my two days off from work.
Friday was spent sleeping-in and cleaning the kitchen/microbrewery. Had dinner at S'Mac. There are a number of Macaroni and Cheese themed restaurants throughout Manhattan, but this place is still the best.
Saturday was probably one of the instances you do as a couple that really defines your status together.
We went wedding shopping for a friend.
Not MY friend or coworker (I don't have many of those getting married) but for someone at Skyhorse. We went to Bed Bath and Beyond and milled around with other packs of twentysomethings, wide eyed and frightened that someday they may be getting something from that home emporium.
It wasn't bad at all, but owning that stuff...all that stuff...knowing that you have...stuff. I dunno. I've never been a person that really thought about owning a food processor or products with that little outline of a chef guy. I prefer to stay not attached to things like that. It means you have to go home to that stuff, just sitting there.
Good things that came out of the Saturday outing include a trip to Skyline Books and chatting with an older man and his daughter about an $11,000 refridgerator. We were deemed creative types because of our shoes.
Saturday night left me with bad chinese food sickness and a gem of a bar, The Wreck Room.
It doesn't have the ambience of Ft. Worth's Wreck Room.

I'm about to buy Maps and Legends.

More on Warcrafting. Later. Damn you Tad.

My Chevy painted tropical, a wima way, a wima way

Thanks Young Dro for bringing back that African melody that everyone enjoyed on oldies radio stations all across America.
Song is wiggled it's way into my psych.

So, I watch a lot of Frasier, and jointly Erin and I own a couple of seasons on DVD. So, yesterday I was leaving Amy's Bread and heading back to work across the street when I say David Hyde Pierce. Dr Niles Crane.


We tried to go bowling after work, at Port Authority Bus Terminal. First, Port Authority is the worst fucking place in NYC. Even the Dallas Greyhound station is better. But apparently they have a great bowling alley. So great it has a bouncer and if you're not on a reserve list, you can't get in. That was our situation.
So we went to Rudy's and a shit ton of free hot dogs and drank.

Today:
St. Marks and Beard Papa.