apparently only fags are watching FOX at this hour. bodybuilders looking for local guys think that i should call interactive male.

a madhouse?



a nutfarm?



MASH rocks.

i'm so bored.



i wish that i didn't have manic attacks, especially before shows. it's silly, especially considering that i usually want to kill afterwards. usually, myself. sometimes, evil crowds.

'2-3-4-five-si' isn't a good count in.

apparently, fox runs MASH at 0100 hours nightly.

oh yeah. this is a blog-a-thon, folks

only kerry mcdonald could use 'the moth used to sleep in the coccoon' in the same song as 'in chariots we used to ride'.

i love manic episodes. i can't sleep despite having drank an obsurd amount of vodka. this is ridiculous.



i was checking out the menace to sobriety website to see who else is up there. this is what i come up with on the links page: ANAL CUNT, BATHTUB SHITTER, BITCH BEATER BIBLE, COALITION, DAMIEN STORM, DRAG THE RIVER, Enbilulugugal, EYEHATEGOD, FEAST OR FAMINE, HIRAX, JUDAS WITNESSES, LIBIDO AIRBAG , MICROPHALLUS, Nunwhore Commando 666, Nasty Disaster, Nunslaughter, Raging Retards, Shyshit, Sloth, Soar Throat, The Bitch Project, The Life Partners, The Red Cloud, Thor, Thundra, Upsidedown Cross, Vomit Spawn, Hosted , Raging Retards, Cameltoe, Christina, Destiny.



kerry thinks that it's hilarious that we're on a grindcore label from greeley.



the band views this record as a demo. i think that we're going to have to bite the bullet and chalk this summer's effort up as a learning experience. andrew's work on the black black ocean disc was great. i know that greg is capable of greatness if we can temper his perfectionism. jason and i are all guerilla--stick a mic in front of the amp (in my case DI) and hit record. i'm stoked about trevor. if i need to refer someone to a recordist, he's the man. despite the ghetto setup he has this albini "recordist" philosophy. he's cheap too--not even charging for setup. i don't like taking advantage of such a young kid, but he needs to increase his rate. i hope that he sticks with it--once he becomes an english teacher who knows what will happen.



it's funny that i seem to bond with the person recording us. kerry, andrew, greg, and now trevor? i think that it's just because i spend most of my time looking cool. i wish that i didn't have to do that. i wish that we could just record a live record, or a record, live. that would require the 'studio magic button'. i think that i might just invest in a mobile DAT or a (grr) minidisc and some mics to leave set up at andrew's pad to record practices. we're so fucking good at practice. as long as we're not writing, it's often at practice when the magic happens.



i'm listening to smog. bill callahan is the man. i need to pick up the most recent record. 'dress sexy at my funeral' just isn't sounding as kick ass as it used to. simon and garfunkel, the police, and waylon. i love having the massive mp3 archive. i can get crazy with mixes. i need to get the intelligent crossfading back.



winamp 5 sucks. i had to uninstall it. it's evil, evil, evil shit. still, it's better than 3. that, my droogs, was unusable. currently, at home, i'm using 2.91. at work, i'm using 5. i need to fix that.



i almost wish that paul simon and art garfunkel hadn't done that reunion bullshit. they must be hard up or something. willie was the man with that H & R block ad. "my face is burning!" ha ha ha ha ha. that was fucking funny. willie nelson is a national treasure.



i wonder how devendra is doing? i ought to check the young god site. he's such an amazing young guy. i can't believe how modest he is. thanking red cloud instead of the opener was cheesy, but fuck it.



one of the highlights of this year was getting chewed out by michael gira for my bass rig. i knew that it sucked, and he knew it. like i want to drag the electric grandmother around. i think that this SWR is a nice comprimise. it's cool because i can turn up and get some blur without killing people. i need to feed it more power, though. i ought to get with it and stick one of the tube power amps in it. i hate to see those just sitting in the back of the volvo. 600 watts is enough to make me happy. the 350 i'm running now just isn't as groovy as the 400 that i used to, but i've got the cool lights, man. i ought to just buy a tuner to get the light show.



my boss told me tonight at 6:30 that i didn't need to worry about doing other people's jobs. that was great, but i still feel like it won't get done if i don't do it. i dealt with the expense reports from hell. i still have one left. tony made me leave. i just don't want those mean voice mails.



i love "BATHTUB SHITTER".

this fucking rocks. i'm stoked to see us listed right there with anal cunt, fecal-matter discorporated and intolerant messiah. i asked lee to remove the "the".



i packed like a mother fucker tonight. this is actually going to work.



today i had panic attacks at work. i hate the voices, the shortness of breath. i get mean, too. i told a senior engineer to fuck herself today. that was not good. oh well--i'll have to get a shrink to certify me if i get fired. it's totally like a fight or flight response--unfortunately, i can't just leave, so i have to bury the panic. i came close today to freaking out. between anxiety about moving and project deadlines, recordings, and low blood sugar, i was in bad shape.



i think that i need some rock therapy. ahh--tomorrow night ought to help. i could use some cocaine too.



kerry was successful at ftping me some stuff last night. i like the vocal mix much more than anything we've done so far. he also sent me some of his new material. the new mighty rime record has the potential to blow some minds. i've come close to offering kerry my services for tour. red cloud would probably kill me. they'd at least replace me. kerry said that he had been working with a metal guy drummer and that things were totally heavy. he's right. heavy in an angels of light sort of way. lots and lots of eight notes. almost like late swans. it's good shit. i had a couple of comments on it--i probably shouldn't have given any criticism, but fuck, man, those maracas are too loud, and that ritard just ain't happenin'.



i ought to get some rest.

trying to explain ftp via nashville via drunk isn't the easiest task. i was successful getting kerry to upload a wma file. he was using emily's computer, which was totally unfamiliar to him.



here is my current main thunderbroom in its new year's configuration (les sans culottes--what good is french music?) click here, dudes. the precision bass is the best. it's all about keeping it simple.



so the moving thing is actually underway. this means lots and lots of energy drinks and vodka. at least bruce is skiing with the children, so they're not hear being noisy. financially, i'm totally liquid. what's with that? i must be totally being cheap or something. not eating beef because of the mad holstein clip i saw is really saving money. unfortunately, i'm totally sick from malnutrition.



tonight i packed books. primarily, it was a lot of econ books. kapital, price theory, the theory of captial, several copies of adam smith, more cool econometric texts. then, i started with the latin texts. i still can't get over the number of dictionaries i own: english, german, spanish, many many latin-english ones. latin comic books (i'm sorry--graphic novels). the gallic wars in graphic form isn't as cool as the real verba de cesar.



i'm listening to paul simon's first album tonight. this is one of those records that shaped me. my mother used to put this one on and dance. i think that the records that my parents had that really influenced me regularly--lou reed's berlin record totally impacted me when i went through dad's records. i had no idea that my father could dig such good shit. the majority of his collection was lulu and shit, but there was the association and lou reed. broccoli is still such an outrageous song. i can't believe that it's like a rare import or something. my mom turned me onto outlaw country, paul simon, the beach boys (all summer long), and the beatles (revolver changed my life).



i think that my illness is going away (yay!!).



i hope that someone shows up for the new year's show. it's too fucking expensive, that's for sure. i wouldn't pay $25 to see us.



red and clear vinyl. that's the word from greeley. i want to run jason up there to drop off the master. i want to recreate the straight edge drunk fest at the smiling moose with the hot 21-year-old blonde republican server. that was one of the greatest chris excursions. waking up with an erection in a german grandmother's house was the shit.



the fucking engineers that i work with are so so so so stupid. don't bitch at me because you don't know what's up.



i'll be 29 in 12 days. i feel like i've wasted my 20s entirely.



ross bitched at me for not wearing a seat belt. he doesn't realize that he'll cash in if i die. i think that it's best to spread my life insurance policies around to the people that i love the most.



janette is getting a haley clone. i figure that another monster dog to take care of while they're out of town isn't any worse than two monsters.



i wish that my father would contact me during the holidays. what a piece of shit.

The Bass Tab Archive - THE source for bass tabs and related resources



So I'm learning hip hop lines tonight, right? I only do this when I'm fucking hammered. I'm shocked to learn that most of this stuff doesn't require a 5. who the fuck uses a 5? ....those lameos at the rock stick mega house. they're always bummed that the amp sounds like shit. trying to reproduce the fundamental (32.something Hz) is ridiculous. one would need servo drives or something. i'm so used to the long scale fat neck now that my acoustic feels like a mandolin. i get totally comfortable on an instrument and then switch. i think that precisions are where it's at.



i moved ross and the chas today. it wasn't too bad actually. chas wouldn't have been so bad if we hadn't tried to be lazy and not take the desk apart. disassembly on the stairs after we got it stuck was a pain in the ass.



i''m so fucking tired. i haven't excercised like that recently. i need a massage in a bad way.



i hate the "new mail sound". i'm off to switch to the "no sounds" scheme.

ho ho ho and all that crap.



tonight, i need to run to the 7-11 and devise a christmas dinner. there's no food here. i've devoured everything in sight so that i don't have to move it. i'm down to a bottle of stolichnaya. i donated all the beer to the ross fund--there's no way i could drink all of the gift beer this year.



i just saw the last samurai (aka the last japanese guy). it was alright. i got my violence fix.



i went to my parents house on sunday. that was totally awkward. i basically got bombed on screwdrivers and ate chinese food. erich thinks that everyone was pleased to see me. it had been almost 3 years since i'd been over there.



i'm sick. fucking head/chest cold bullshit.



my mother is needling me to let her set me up on a blind date with one of the girls from her clasess. she claims "they're smart and cute." i told her that i'm only dating models with iqs over 120. she ought to adore me so that i can neglect her, and she won't care. i considered adding "nymphomaniac" to my specs, but i had to remind myself of what that's like--and it's not fun at all. that might be awkward to tell my mother, but maybe it would upset her suffciently.



i need to change the dns on the red cloud site sometime soon. i think that i'll do that after a rustle some edibles at the 7-11.



.......



the 7-11 was great. i got some wild stallion (wyld) and some doritos. yay doritos! moving sucks shit. i hope that this new pad is cooler than this. i'd imagine that satellite tv in a bad thing though.



i'm so tired. the wyld stallion isn't even helping.



oh yeah. i have booze. i think that i'll watch some cowboy movies and get muddled.



eric allen requested to play the climax show with us. i think that's funny because he didn't seem particularly taken with us last january (?!?). he was a really nice guy, though.

i'm getting a cold. ick.



listening to david bowie and cranking out SPCC plans is great. i'm moving in a week. there's still crap to take care of as far as telecommunications, but everything is cool.



tonight, i'm chillin' with ross and chas. hopefully, we can get drunk or something.

the acoustic thing went over okay. the other acts truely blew. apparently, these sensitive scenesters are also idiots and crappy songwriters. i left early and used the poor dog as an excuse. he presented me with a stuffed rabbit upon my arrival. oh goody.



i wanted to go stalk mark mothersbaugh this evening, but i'm too drunk. two drinks of the bulleit are enough to keep me home tonight. fuck. i might as well polish it off.



alternatively, i could go see brent play. i ought to call ross to see if he's keen on that so that he can drive.



tomorrow, we're doing up the 7" shit. fun fun.



crap. i'm having a total ADD experience. i think that i need some speed or something.



maybe i'll just watch the tv.



bigfoot and wildboy rocks. i'm one of two people that actually remembers it.

Take the Test!

i have been bad at keeping this up to date. i'm house sitting at janette's this weekend. packing sometime. i think that i'll start with all of these fucking clothes. i stumbled upon a girl that i went to high school with via the friendster. she's a pretty cool chick.



this rocks:



Subject: Incredible Horse-Girl Action!



An average 115 lb girl's asshole can stretch up to 3 inches in diameter
THE AVERAGE HORSE'S COCK IS 5 INCHES IN DIAMETER!

YOU DO THE FUCKIN MATH!!!!

You're not gunna believe this shit!




we're playing an acoustic show tomorrow night after practice. that should be fun.



we're recording the 7" on sunday. i love that it'll be on menace to sobriety, the same label as anal cunt. it doesn't get better than that, my brothers.



death to smoochie rocks. the nazi show is like that communist thing that we played. i'm sure that i'm on a list now. oh well, we were billed as one of denvers fuckest bands.



ennui is the shit. that's my word for today. i had to call ross for a synonym for lassitude.