i've totally flasheed back tonight

and i apologize to y'all. it's not often that the mood stabilizers run out, and i can feel.

you must love pharmacists' hours on memorial day weekend...

holy holy holy

i created an accidental mix of morricone's "As A Judgement" with whatever the mighty mighty reverend deadeye has on the myspace.

fuck.

that was a spiritual experience. and...totally un-re-creatable.

i love that reverend.

i'd love even more to play bass with that rattlesnake of a performer. not that i think that he requires bass....

a good whump whump line is mighty good sometimes.

he's one of the few performers that really really really has moved me. i think that the reverend, his brother and liza are the best line up. not pretentious at all--just down in it.

hearts to that matrix, leather pants wearin' mf the reverend. thanks for experiencing me this evening, my brother.

tonight's menu

asparagus burritos--don't even ask.

i'm becoming a master of what's available. tortillas, asparagus, onions, a bit of edamame with creative spices (lots of garlic, the chili, and a touch of the salt and pepper and a shot of good surplus bourbon), and some rice (via the steamer appliance).

shit, girls, i cooked 2/3s of this within the steamer appliance. a mighty electric steamer appliance it is. holy shit!

the power apparently went off this evening. the mighty storm must've pulled some fuckeed on it. i shall email in late to work, because i'm famous for not using the tele. send later (doggy dogg) is totally a great tool for this. ms-outlook webmail does indeed suck, but i can manipulate the send time. the dumb-shits that i work for shall not dig it.

i do not like going to the mighty king soopers--it's simply too sooper. there's also that girl that is called melissa, who is a cutie, and some sort of mistress of the cashiers' domain. i wonder what the mighty asparagus burritos would have been like if i had used some neutral milk meat like the snails. maybe with the cheese? cheesy snails???? that sounds good.

we scored some snails in texas--those little SOBs are all about the pickly pears--and nebraska man didn't think twice about picking them and sticking them into his suitcase. it was funny to me (i didn't forwarn him about too many texas hazards--except los javalinas (get back in the truck, bitch), when the snails reconstituted on the clothes, leaving their slime trails (happy ones).

heller's ghost is a mexican italian or some shit

quite amazing, really...

i'm a fan on the spaghetti westerns, and it just dawned on me (after stealing some ennio morricone tracks), that la solo-nota, estilo limpio de la guitarra de sr. heller is totally spaghetti western.

that dude is incredible, and probably hasn't ever seen one of those movies (with my luck). jason is truly something else, indeed.

what a wonderful storm--and the homesick

this afternoon, i decided that i ought to venture out of the house. the playstation can only amuse me so long, after all.

apparently, the seasons have changed since i went into "sampling man recovery mode" on friday afternoon.

i got to see a terrific storm. and lots of morons out driving in it like they've never seen rain. luckily, it started some weak hail, and the morons pulled over. i had clear roads and windshield wipers and the wheels splashing and amazing lightning.

so i went for a drive instead of seeing if the grocery store crush girl is working.

very satisfying, athough i forgot the imagery devices (the phone and camera).

lots of wind and clouds and oddly-colored skies. unfortunately, those didn't translate into a tornado. it's too bad, really. i still doubt that they occur in the colorado. i got to see a couple of wholesome dust devils in texas, but not much more. maybe my oklahoma/arkansas trip will afford me the opportunity to survive another tornado encounter.

i'm still completely stokeed about some of those photos that i took. it makes me want to go back when i'm not working (and that's totally insane--west texas is a horrible, big place). hopefully, i'll get sent back to do those tank closures.

dinner tonight

outrageous, after i thought about it a little, while working on the food logs:

• blueberry waffles;
• baby spinach;
• "onions and stars" soup (a new creation); and
• grilled cheese sandwich.

they're going to get me

i've been worrying about inter-dimensional beings gallivanting around the place at night.

the "BREEWHUMP" sound is back, as is the crowd noise sound, and the whispers.

i do not like any of these sounds.

wtf?

i did locate a version of the can i take you without main vocals. it's very very weird. it has the "running down the stairs" and recording room chatter, though. the bass seems too loud. i must've removed some. the "doo doo doo" so funny now. that was the mighty robin bass. damn, that thing was huge on record. i still like my remix, after listening to this. i think that it's more polished sounding.

whoop, here it is.

i'm dying to hear their live ep, but far too embarassed to ask for one. being the glen matlock of red cloud really sucks. i hate that the booze/mental demons got me.

these things happen, i suppose. it appears that it's going to haunt me for life. i do seem to fuck up every job that i procure. only because "i can't take it anymore." how lame is that? if only i could resign myself to being ass-fucked by employers, i'd be okay. the funny thing is, it takes about three or four years for me to quit jobs. then, i'll spend time getting high and playing didgeridoo for a month or so before i seek employment.

what is wrong with me? i like working, i like the bass, but...i hate that i hate other people. something is totally miswired in jeremy's brain. i'd love to blame it on my year off from high school to drop acid, but i think that these problems started before that. i wish that i knew more about my father's illness. i'm certain that the booze was a factor with him, but i don't know much more. i do know that his father doused him with gas and set him on fire as a punishment, and shot him with a 12-gauge of rock salt. maybe mental illness runs in my family. what do y'all think? (comments go here.)

erich's remark that "at least i ain't shootin' you" is so true. i'm glad that wull didn't endure those amazing beatings, and only overheard them. it still hurts me, though. the feeling of telling my father that i hated him (i was 13) is still a recallable (is that a word?) feeling.

his response was totally lame.

"so now you hate me? fuck you, you little bastard."

all of this while getting beaten with a (choose your punishment) 2 x 4. i never thought that he'd hit me with it, really. erich chose wisely, and picked a flimsy monster (1/8" x 2" spruce).

i wish that i had come across that mother fucker (an apt term, really) while in del rio.

i stumbled across some old red cloud recordings this afternoon. some of them have some cheesy, but some have truly golden moments from the mcdonaldland session (even with the vocal overdubs). i need to do a remix of the can i take you to fully demonstrate the vocal overdub insanity. maybe once i get so bored and sober that there's nothing else to amuse me. that song means too much to me to butcher, although the harmonies are pretty cool (for los batardes del briny deep).

i have more that aren't suitable for posting (even more out of time than these). another item to fix via remix.

this list may be fuckeed; y'all can deal with it, as far as i'm concerned. these are recordings that were deemed unsuitable for public consumption:

last night on earth
prairie wind
town with no name
kingdom gonna come
hot wyoming sun
car wreck
army of stars
green grocer

i hadn't listened to this jazz since i salvaged can i take you (since 2-14-2004). i don't quite understand the band's apprehension to most of these recordings, still. they seem pretty good to me--and listening to them causes me to miss playing with those guys a lot.

the third episode

totally made up for the first two, even if the twenty something moron with a ballcap laughed at inappropriate times, and smelled bad.

i particularly dug the spooky elements in the soundtrack. finally!!

uncle richard and neil peart

i was totally astounded that richard only knew of neil peart as a motorcycle writer. truly bizarre. i must send him some cds. maybe some dvds.

richard said, "people have told me that he was a great drummer."

fuck, man. seriously, really a great drummer, if you're into the non-chaotic school. i still think that keith moon and ringo and andrew are the greatest because they play backwards fills.

the only two things that make life worth livin'

1. guitars that tune good
2. firm feelin' women

waylon jennings might have been misquided, but those are two good things.

a bad edit

this has driven me nuts since i was a kid:

click this shit for a bad second verse edit.

it's virutally indecipherable. it's supposed to be (according to my mother's lp):

it climbs the hills like a matchless, because my honda's built really light;
when i go into the turns; (edit)
lean with me and, hang on tight;

i'd better turn on the lights, so i can ride my honda tonight.

jim gorley is evil

apparently, i'm traveling 3/4 of the time until december. that's totally bullshit. 3 weeks on, then a week of office work.

i think that i must donate nitwit to science.

not really. she's going to wind up living with my mother permanently, probably.

maybe i can procure another job. i once read that quitting your job without a contingency plan is unwise unless your job precludes you from looking for another job. i think that i've got a possible job digging, though. that is, unless erich takes it first.

it's too bad that i do not have a cdl at this point. driving trucks sounds mighty appealing. and, i have the hypertension/weight to fit right in. someone needs to loan me a semi with a trailer so that i can practice my trailer backing. that's my main issue for class a. i'd want a hazardous endorsement too. i love them hazardous chemicals.

operating the vacuum truck at the facility yesterday brought the truck driving yearn on. it was really comforting to see that flat steel "dash" with lots of analog gauges, and to hear the air brakes.

apparently, there is a rattlesnake that lives in the vac truck. i was told that "most of the time, he lets you know where he is."

it became evident that i do not work well with others yesterday. put on your surprised face. i think that my feelings that everyone is out to get me are not good. i can't think of a way to curb those feelings, though. it seems really naive to think that people have better things to do.

today, i am off of the work because of 3 12-hour days and one 8-hour day. i'm truly bored out of my mind.

so, i went to the liquor store. i was actually so bored that i was camped out--they didn't open until 10. i have to live a little this "holiday" weekend.

i have decided to investigate the effect of the drugs and the alcohol on the one called jeremy. i have my blood pressure monitor (thank god that the doctors don't download the data) and the thermo-meter (i must have something to stick up my ass) at the ready.

i have been obsessing about a satellite radio dj named madison since my trip to the patria. so far, no luck locating a photo of the female.

i love my cat

which is so lame, and totally nocturnal. she's pretty good entertainment for me.

it's looking like relocation is a possibility. i'm uncomfortable in the denver metro. i'm thinking that the delta might offer a lot of opportunity for rock, especially since i think that i've burnt too many bridges here. i did flunk out of the cloud. i probably shouldn't care, but i hate that i lost 3 friends. a different city might help. and, since it's a lot of oil and gas stuff, i might be able to get into it. demographically, it ought to be an improvement as far as meeting acceptable women goes. i ought to not kid myself. i'm totally inept with the girls. too afraid that i'll get a disease. and, also weirded out by people touching me.

today, janette accidentally touched me, and i sort of freaked out. it's been a while since i touched another human. it's a totally irrational thing that i cannot explain. i wish that i wasn't so apprehensive (why am i?). something to talk with the evil doctor about, i suppose.

tonight, i'm not feeling very well--i feel a depressive wave coming on. i've been taking the medications, though. i "talked" myself into a horrible place this afternoon, while janette did paperwork and labels. i wish that i could stop doing that. the medication does seem to stretch out the cycles, but i still want to hang myself sometimes. that's the one good thing about lots of field work--USUALLY, i wind up too busy to do that.

voicemail, it's not working

i do not understand why my voicemail is apparently not working. t-mobile apparently has changed something, and i am mystified by it.

that, or no one has called for three weeks.

radioactive sampling this week. so boring, but i get to hang out with janette.

today's big topic was that i read that 80% of women have HPV, and that has me freakeed out.

fingerstyle thoughts

them goddamn (my new-found west texas filler adjective) guitar players don't realize that to pla fingered bass (versus picked bass) requires lots of thoughtful muting of strings. dan beltran pointed this out to me when i started rocking the bass (age 13), but i never realized it fully until this last week. since i've been listening to radio or the new nin cd, i realized that i actually do a lot of muting with fingers 3 and 4. tom murphy is probably the only person astute enough to have noticed such technique--being the technique fiend that he is. i just now realized that danny was right.

i seriously require a band--this 6 month period is my longest period without a band in 16 years--even if many of them failed or sucked or kicked me out because i was too dedicated to the trabajando. i suppose that i'm materially doing better than those people are, even if i'm not fufilled.

i want to have someone require me to write a soundtrack.

this might require me to write a screenplay at this point. however, i have ideas from this west/south texas trip. it'll be a western, i suppose, but semi-modern, like the wild bunch.

great to be back within the colorado

i posted SOME photos from the trip on the photo dump page, and i had to create another for the co-workers (sans personal shit).

looks like i'm getting a raise because i can blog.

hilarious, really.

dust devil of a weekend

i got hammered drinking several bottles of wine with my grandparents. hung out with my uncle richard. went to a barbeque. fixed four (4) flat tires (lots of thorny plants out here).

decompressed in SA after my two run ins with the authorities:

• the border patrol searched the car on saturday morning; and
• ten minutes later i got busted (just a warning) going 105 in a 70 zone.

today, we scored another forgotten UST.

i've gotten the goddamn drawl back.

ack.

lonesome drives on long, west texas non-roads

i hurt my neck yesterday during my trespass-o-rama drive 50 miles off road to avoid dealing with a pissed off rancher.

at least the safety vest gives them something to shoot at.

mostly, everyone's been too helpful providing information, and i've met some interesting characters: the pink panther, the mexican welder, the shooting rancher. mostly i've stayed in decent motels.

i saw the marfa lights--totally cool. it turns out that marfa is a super artsy town. ate dinner at a super great restaurant there, and half of the customers were speaking french. totally bizarre, really.

i did some concrete work which was fun, too. there's something really special about pouring a pad in 95 degree heat in a place with lots of dark grey rocks and no shade.

tonight, i'm attempting to decompress in del rio, but it's not working. i drove around to see the places that i lived in when i was a very small child. that brought back lots of memories.

the trailer park is gone. that was a happy time for me--a no stress lifestyle of hanging out with my mother and walking to the carniceria and going to the park to fly a kite, and going to play with other little kids.

that's when that kid locked me in a blue toybox and wouldn't let me out. he was 2 years older than me and sat on the lid so i couldn't get out. finally, i gave up and accepted my fate of dying in the toy box.

the house where i fell off the roof of the malibu onto the concrete (1st concussion at age 2) is very much the same, except a different color. that was 28 years ago. the trees have grown. i used to stand in the driveway and watch the garbage man run his truck, and looked forward to seeing the milk man once a week. this is the house where i got busted for wearing makeup and stuffed animal fellatio (i still don't know how i dreamt that one up). i remember my first really good beatings happening in this house. erich was born into this house.

the flying circus appears to have been replaced by an international airport terminal. i called my mother (the unicom girl) to let her know.

my efforts to contact my father have not been fruitful. i asked around at the airport, and everyone just acted like i was crazy. i'm sort of angry that he has gone out of his way to disappear since he sent me a birthday card on my 16th birthday.

that sort of hurts right now. i'm not a fan of this feeling at all.

and it's my own goddamn (my new filler adjective) fault for talking myself down into this hole.

composition lite

i've been fiddling around with some organ parts, and sort of improvisational old-school organ playing in general. still figuring out how is best to record crap like this. at least i'm making some noise as time allows.

it seems like recording direct to tape sounds the best. i really like the way it chills out the highs just a little bit. it gets crunchy really fast, though.

erich is getting married

that's today's news in brief.

new photo location

instead of bandwidth sucking on this page, i've created (yet another) blog (sheesh--how many does that make now???) here for that stuff.

greasy man with scruffy beard

the white stuff isn't semen, really, or paint.

the shine and the nose hair rock.

further proof that i'm losing my mind

today, i totally got up at like, 2:30, freaking out about water level meters.

i showered, got dressed (more on this later), took my pills, and headed off for the unexpected sampling. it turns out that i forgot labels (or i thought that i forgot labels), so i stopped at the office to get those, and played dog with crisco (janette's). she was super-cute when she was little, but now she's a monster.

anyhow, i had to deal with a granular carbon column dude, who had been sent to replace the carbon (essentially giant filters), but NO ONE from the railroad was there. he was having a shitty day because his clutch in the rig was fuckeed, and he had questions about some shit, which, amazingly, i could answer. (i'm not an environmental engineer, but i play one at the jobsite).

i finished up the science experiment with dr. ramaswami (he put in his notice this week), and got some insight into the fuckeed shit that's going down with the inverted pyramid. he's one of only a couple of people at this company that have really helped me out. i'm sad that he's cruising. he's got an amazing opportunity to be mentored by the wizard of wastewater (a shit scientist, if you will), so i'm glad that he took that opportunity. we had lots of talks about cool shit since he hired me back in the day.

i dropped the samples off at the lab, and cruised back to the office, and cranked out a groundwater monitoring report (sort of half-assed, really) and a couple of plume maps (tony said that they were perfect).

everyone in the office calls this site the "pickle plume" site because that's how the aerial contours look. i re-contoured it to look like a flaccid penis, complete with a urethra and perspective.

apparently, one of the "opportunities" is that the railroad is contracting out the wwtp at the north yard. this could be a great opportunity, really. we will see.

i eventually got home to shower the diesel away, and as i undresseed, i was stunned. i put my fucking underwear on backwards this morning, and didn't even notice.

i'm losing it.

i went to that 80s grocery store. her name is melissa, and she didn't have a ring this time, only a silver one on the left pinky finger. glasses! that purple-red dyed hair.

now i have to figure out a plan--i totally made too much eye contact tonight.

CONGRATULATIONS, WULL!!

IT'S ABOUT TIME THAT YOU GOT OFF YOUR ASS AND DID SOMETHING WITH YOUR LIFE.

BEING "UN TIPO SUAVE" JUST ISN'T ENOUGH.

LOVE,
JEREMY

the work situation

i'm apparently the only one capable to doing shit at this place. ANY field work is my problem. the big problem is that this company has this inverted pyramid setup.

after canceling a sampling event this week, they moved it to next week, when i'm unavailable (another event). everyone is shitting themselves because they can't manage to get the equipment wrangled (rented and calibrated) or remember shit like gloves. basically, i have to get that shit done tomorrow.

friday, the mighty wull graduates! grandparents are in town for this event.

since he'll be moving, he's unloading bass guitars. i have put my bid in for his scfs fretless, which has sentimental value to me, because i wrote my green grocer line on it. those slides were even better on the fretless, really. not that i need more basses, really, since i'm stagnating. right now, i'm just soaking up the work and stabilizing my health, which ought to be completed by the end of june (that's the plan, anyway).

i'm planning my exit from the cameron-cool, too. i really want to get back into a local truck-driving situation or something else that isn't spent mostly at a work-station. the last time i put my notice in, though, i got a 40% raise. it helps take care of those satanic credit card debts left over from being poor while i was temping, but i'm so over dealing with people that are so helpless.

in the scfs days. this is very strange.

i do not dig this, really

that i let posts "build up," and then unload a bunch at once.

the glenn miller orchestra is rockin'. i still believe that saxophone sections are really beautiful. and...the most well-designed instruments EVER. adolph was the man.

ha. it looks like ASCAP has "accepted" all but the car wreck. funny, really, since that's the one that's the oldest recording. hopefully this will mean checks. even if i'm cashing checks for a nickel, at least i'll be getting something. i really hate to bitch about something as petty as the royalties, but if the cloud happens to get some deal, and the s/t gets re-released, i want something. i don't want to be stupid. since i'm not likely to ever get anything from anything, i have a sense of entitlement (a very weird feeling, indeed). it's also nice to know that i've locked up my place, and if i require fucking attorneys at some point, i've got them.

i just wish that i could unload the domain name. i'll sell redcloudrock.com for the reasonable sum of $1 to anyone at this point. it's really a liability, but at the same time, i have the power of the dark side, to re-direct their site to whatever i want. can you say "tubgirl?" really, i don't want it to come to that. i'm so not bitter, but the thought has crossed my mind. unfortunately, i would feel guilty (taking advantage of less web-savvy people).

beard progress is good. photos on the tx trip are a requirement. janette said that i appeared "rugged" 10 days ago. julie claims that the scruffy (still filling in) is hot (damn lesbians), and carol has been flirting (MILF), lisa thinks that it's dignified.

really, though, it's not. i'm a facial defect--totally asymmetrical. looking forward to dying the white stuff blue.

blue is alright for birds and fish, but not people. it becomes too clockwork orange (where's THAT t-shirt?) for people.

also, i need to fix these "courtesy of josh coyle" scars. i think that instead of covering it, i'm going to pull a bellinger and redo them with ink (instead of tequila and cigarette ashes--although that did indeed work in spots). actually, matt is responsible for the majority of the work. maybe if i can find someplace to get re-inked in the mighty del rio.

both of them probably hate me at this point--i can't imagine going to a pmfs show or a gb show without feeling like sepaku is reasonable. i know that i totally lost it in the nm. it still doesn't feel good.

unloading on yankee (read: non-texans) here: what's with calling del rio "the city of del?" you are all fucked. another classic moment at work: this nebraskan starts in about acuña, calling it acuna, and i had no idea what he was talking about, although i spent much of the child-years there. the kill bill 2 had it in there, too. that scene was a brothel--i only know about the lacquered frogs (more on that later) and the dogs with genital warts. mom used to keep me on a leash.

what's even worse is that i was telling phillip about this great restaurant in acuña called "lando's," at least that's what we call it. i explained that it was a five star deal with waiters in tuxedos for ghetto cheap (this is mexico), and that the best part is that it's called lando's.

like cloud city, right?

this dude just looked at me like i was fucking crazed.

i do dig empire the best (looking forward to the revenge of the sith), but come on, dude--you're 30 years old and you don't know who lando is??????

or billy dee williams???

colt 45?????

what a lame ass. i feel sorry for someone who doesn't "get" pop culture references in conversation. this dude wouldn't understand the simpsons. it's like vera, except from nebraska, instead of hungary. erich and i regularly have to explain stupid shit to the vero. poor poor poor vero.

she's going to have to deal (or not) with the discussion of the jewry from my grandfather this weekend.

certainly, a bad bad sign

at least it ain't the ribs of doom...

shooting upper back pain while sneezing. not too concerned about this shit, though, since i'm under the doctor's care bi-weekly (while i'm in town).

it's like being old or something. today, i talked liver issues with the man formerly known as my boss (he's dying, and that's very sad to me). i know that my grandparent visit will focus on two things:

• do you require a sandwich?
• whining about the pharmaceutical cocktails that we're all on.

i like the simplicity of this photo. my instructor always told me that diagonal lines were a good thing, as far as composition goes--"they're interesting."

the ironing board can look pretty trippy, too.

i rather like this tungsten texture.

brass bands

aren't something that i'm particularly into. these guys have an amazing tuba player. or DID have an amazing tuba player.

and...i totally freaked out touristas...

by placing these around the depot museum. i'll concede that in a post-9/11 world in cheyenne, wy, they might look like bombs, but really, really, really, i'm helping protect these people from the evil corporations' bad decisions in the 1980s.

priceless.


basement west canister...


basement west landing canister...


basement west end canister, and a sump.

also, how convince a client that this groundwater isn't totally horrible? do a shot of it.

that technique was shot down because of my boss' candy ass.

really, it can't hurt me much--i've already hurt my body pretty good, it appears. that's what the new doctor sez. "years of not taking care of yourself have caught up with you."

i'm doing what he says, even though i know that my heroes have lived harder--and written songs about it.

day = +10

today's activities included straightening out travel plans to visit the grandparents and shit, the jordache jeans girl in cheyenne (more air monitoring--details follow), compliments from a MILF and an unprovoked discussion of so-called opportunities with the boss.

these things have overshadowed last night's news. jessica is getting married, which is cool, and i should have guessed. i'm bummed out because that has killed another fantasy for me.

oh well--i'm a selfish bastard. i hope that they live out their lives happily together.

i emailed back and forth with my grandmother--who fractured her skull and broke ribs and an arm while attempting to hang drapes on saturday. i'm going to tell her that she's a "goddamn idiot," because that's what she'd tell me. i love grammy sammy.

today i did yet another round of air monitoring in cheyenne because of the newspaper article. i shouldn't be talking about this here. the super-cute-country-music-listening coffee shop girl let me into the basement. totally undateable, because she has a really "jeans and ballcap" boyfriend. she gives me something to look at while i'm there.

carol totally started into my long-ass hair today. another thing that could get me fired. not likely, though. she's been paying me many more across the building visits. nevermind that janette says she's dirty. i wouldn't know. another fantasy.

after i returned from a mighty dangerous drive back (totally stop motion trails because of no food, or just a good old-fashioned flashback) from wyoming, the boss cornered me about "opportunities." fuck, man. i don't know that i want opportunities.

no one knows that i was going to quit this fall, once i got to see the entire western u.s. i really need to do more manual labor to keep my arteries from clogging. really, my whole plan is contingent on my bloodwork.

truly, it's like that plato shit--i can't even remember which dialog (help me out here, doggs). basically, the deal is that one's body isn't "them," so-to-speak. if it was, it wouldn't fail. damn it. i believe that the plato dialog book is in storage.

i feel sick

this sucks--sort of just feeling wiped out this evening for no reason.

I still think that this was a good one.

digital photo madness.

today was a good day to lay around the house and try to take a nap--intermittent fucking snow. (i think that she looks cute trying to sleep under a bass guitar, and the oil paint effect isn't too horrible, really. did a nice job on the digital zoom grain.)

i borrowed a monitor from work, so at least i'm not stuck using the telephone for email. unfortunately, the mighty nokia monitor had spekers--no radio, just spekers, so i'm sort of soundless for the time being--might be time to get a monitor solution that i can live with, because the headphones are only hurting me at this point. i think that these medications are making me hear shit differently.