1. notice the vest jacket and pants.
2. notice tie and shows as well as dress shirt with pointy collar and tight jacket.
what does this all mean......I hope it means I'll be wearing clothes like this soon.
Jul 30, 2006
Jul 28, 2006
excussssssse me say that again?!
cough cough, blink blink, sigh sigh....you can react anyway you want to this. But it's the truth. Wolf Parade is playing next Sunday at the Magic Stick in the luxurious city of Detroit! Ticket are a mere 14 bucks, but from what I've read, there's a guest band called Frog Eyes, which does not seem to be listed on the ticket. Doors are at 8:00 p.m.
On another Spencer Krug anything to do with note, Sunset Rubdown, sigh sigh (kicking dirt while looking down with hands in pockets) is playing a show in October, 5th-A to be exact! This magnificent heavenly presentation will be held in the Rayol town of Cleveland, Ohio. Ohio is a very special state indeed........(but we musnt' speak of it so often or else "they" will come get us.) ANNNnnnnd tickets for this are but a mere 10 buck-a-roo's. jjjjjoooOOOOOYYYYYY!!!!!
here's an enjoyable bio for those of you who think you're just gonna watch some clean cut, Ian Curtis dreaing fashionistas on stage singing about NYC and or Stella. (cough cough Interpol cough cough) just kidding, I too wish they would put some new stuff out, or at least just go a little more unnoticed by ever fucking magaize out there. So, here it is....a bio on Frog Eyes:
Looking for a Prince: Three Days Stalking Frog Eyes.
It is not only the belly of this charming and robust rogue that needs nourishment. I have a mind to feed as well. If one were to take a slice of Bertrand Russell, two crisp pieces of Plato, plucked from a fresh head of Pushkin, four thick slices cut from a block of Heraclitus, some Hieronymous Bosch and Brueghel sauce, and the most sparing sprinkles from the Thrashymachus and Xerses shakers and place them all in between a hoagie bun–well, I might just take a bite!”–from the biography of Carey Mercer by Reg Lech and Grayson Walker.
I just want to apologize in print for sweating on them on that hot summer evening. I was in over my head, but this is not about me. Well, it kind of is. I heard so much about Frog Eyes from the Hive Studios people and CiTR DJs that I was almost forced to see a Frog Eyes show. I saw them open for Stephen Malkmus and was kind of shocked to hear them later trounce the show as being not great (more for the headline act than anything).
I’ve never been so floored by a performance. Right from the beginning, when front man Carey Mercer assured the crowd not to be afraid and invited them closer to the Sonar stage, I wasn’t going anywhere until they were done. Upon hearing their first album, The Bloody Hand, I was led to believe that Carey was literally off his rocker, shackled to a railing during their sets so as to not attack the audience G.G. Allin style. But of course all four of them were sweet and kind and giving with their time, even though I pestered them with questions for four days by e–mail and in person. Yes, they were kind, but so were the alien visitors from “V” before they ordered us onto their mothership in order to be preserved for future consumption. The above quote is from a biography of Carey Mercer. “How old are you?” I ask. “Old enough to have a biography.” Wha?
Yeah, I think he’s having me on as well. But through careful research I have come to the conclusion that he is being sincere. I’ve only known of this humble four–piece for a few short months, but ever since my first listen, I’ve been carving the Frog Eyes logo into my school desk .
I’ll give you four points about these cats and then I got a plane to catch. First up is Carey’s voice. The first word I ever heard Carey utter was ‘radio’ from the song “Sound Travels from the Snow to the Dark.” Joy Divsion’s Ian Curtis sang that word almost identically in the song “Transmission,” except that Carey sounds like he’s trapped in a closet screaming into 90 megaphones. I have this lawn mower that growls along for a while, but then it eventually lets out this high pitched wail that liquifies my insides. This comparison with the way Carey sings is meant as a compliment.“I was pissed once... drunk, not angry,” Carey begins “and I was listening to the CCR cover of “I Put a Spell on You.” Then it really hit me and I thought it’d be nice to try to sing. And now, here we are in this room.” For the record, Carey did not know who Diamanda Galas was and the rest of the band did. Long story.
On another Spencer Krug anything to do with note, Sunset Rubdown, sigh sigh (kicking dirt while looking down with hands in pockets) is playing a show in October, 5th-A to be exact! This magnificent heavenly presentation will be held in the Rayol town of Cleveland, Ohio. Ohio is a very special state indeed........(but we musnt' speak of it so often or else "they" will come get us.) ANNNnnnnd tickets for this are but a mere 10 buck-a-roo's. jjjjjoooOOOOOYYYYYY!!!!!
here's an enjoyable bio for those of you who think you're just gonna watch some clean cut, Ian Curtis dreaing fashionistas on stage singing about NYC and or Stella. (cough cough Interpol cough cough) just kidding, I too wish they would put some new stuff out, or at least just go a little more unnoticed by ever fucking magaize out there. So, here it is....a bio on Frog Eyes:
Looking for a Prince: Three Days Stalking Frog Eyes.
It is not only the belly of this charming and robust rogue that needs nourishment. I have a mind to feed as well. If one were to take a slice of Bertrand Russell, two crisp pieces of Plato, plucked from a fresh head of Pushkin, four thick slices cut from a block of Heraclitus, some Hieronymous Bosch and Brueghel sauce, and the most sparing sprinkles from the Thrashymachus and Xerses shakers and place them all in between a hoagie bun–well, I might just take a bite!”–from the biography of Carey Mercer by Reg Lech and Grayson Walker.
I just want to apologize in print for sweating on them on that hot summer evening. I was in over my head, but this is not about me. Well, it kind of is. I heard so much about Frog Eyes from the Hive Studios people and CiTR DJs that I was almost forced to see a Frog Eyes show. I saw them open for Stephen Malkmus and was kind of shocked to hear them later trounce the show as being not great (more for the headline act than anything).
I’ve never been so floored by a performance. Right from the beginning, when front man Carey Mercer assured the crowd not to be afraid and invited them closer to the Sonar stage, I wasn’t going anywhere until they were done. Upon hearing their first album, The Bloody Hand, I was led to believe that Carey was literally off his rocker, shackled to a railing during their sets so as to not attack the audience G.G. Allin style. But of course all four of them were sweet and kind and giving with their time, even though I pestered them with questions for four days by e–mail and in person. Yes, they were kind, but so were the alien visitors from “V” before they ordered us onto their mothership in order to be preserved for future consumption. The above quote is from a biography of Carey Mercer. “How old are you?” I ask. “Old enough to have a biography.” Wha?
Yeah, I think he’s having me on as well. But through careful research I have come to the conclusion that he is being sincere. I’ve only known of this humble four–piece for a few short months, but ever since my first listen, I’ve been carving the Frog Eyes logo into my school desk .
I’ll give you four points about these cats and then I got a plane to catch. First up is Carey’s voice. The first word I ever heard Carey utter was ‘radio’ from the song “Sound Travels from the Snow to the Dark.” Joy Divsion’s Ian Curtis sang that word almost identically in the song “Transmission,” except that Carey sounds like he’s trapped in a closet screaming into 90 megaphones. I have this lawn mower that growls along for a while, but then it eventually lets out this high pitched wail that liquifies my insides. This comparison with the way Carey sings is meant as a compliment.“I was pissed once... drunk, not angry,” Carey begins “and I was listening to the CCR cover of “I Put a Spell on You.” Then it really hit me and I thought it’d be nice to try to sing. And now, here we are in this room.” For the record, Carey did not know who Diamanda Galas was and the rest of the band did. Long story.
Jul 25, 2006
Eye Infection
This regressive impulse does not disappear with adulthood, it is merely repressed. Anyway that is true for many of us. In some, though, it is sublimated and survives as a form of perverse curiosity, the negative or destrtuctive complement of a positive, productive drive.
Anway this is from a book I started reading today called "eye infection". It's about underground comic artists from around the 70's and 80's, mainly Robert Crumb, Mike Kelley, Jim Nutt, Peter Saul, and H.C. Westermann. They were the big ones. Crumb was a leading pioneer for comics depicting race, sex, and drugs but also holding strong in the one of a kind marksmenship one puts towards creating comic literature. The best way I've found to get into this kid is to 1.) watch the movie American Splendor, 2.) research his literature for about 30 minutes online at amazon.com. He's got all of his sketchbooks published all the way back to the 60's.
I ordered this book by him today called "Your Vigor for Life Appals Me". I mean....just look at the title....it's got to be good!
Crumb is the kind of character that for some reason always brings home to the idea of just "drawing" in a sketchbook. I mean, tha's pretty much all he ever did. Even if his style was crazy as hell, he'd revisit page after page and pile and pile sketches all interacting with each other until eventually, it produced some kind of hidden dialouge. The idea of a sketchbook is merely that. A way for igures and ideas to interact with each other. But as simple as that is, how many times have you looked at a newly sketched drawing and said to yourself "I hope nothing ever spoils this drawing, because it's perfectly centered by itself". Crumb has this one drawing of a really nice portrait of some lady done in almost a classical manner, yet at the bottom of the page, you can tell he used this page previously for dozens of other sketches, in which one of the characters from the bottom (a little bird) is perched up on the portrait of the lady's shoulder saying "you're so cute". NOW THAT'S WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT
i'm so lame.
Jul 19, 2006
So glad to meet you, angeles......
Do you ever find yourself uncovering something inside where you're like "holy shit, I should do this from now on"......or finding yourself wanting to write down something but accepting the fact that there's no way to actually uncover the thoughts in written words. what do you do then...try to write a song, write in a journal, draw a person. but those are just way too cool of things to do I suppose.....in the mean time....hello! how are you? did you have a good day? decent? ohhhh i'm sorry to hear that, but don't worry, school will start soon and we'll just have other things to complain about......can't wait? netiher can I.
I have finding new inspirations in old music. Inspiration with my hair pulled back, no one to see me, I was meant to be a hermet. Only to re-surface once a month for daily tea parties....distribution of goods. The sun is quite different here. My Dad told me this before I came, but typically I seem to always assume he's just crazy. Well, I must say either I'm beginning to think I'm Clark Kent and that the sun gives me power, or I'm just crazy. I must say though, that looking at and feeling the sun soak into your skin is somewhat or a trival yet overlooked experience. I know it's just frying my skin, but something about the warmth brings hope.....maybe the sun just makes me think about really lame subjects like this. See once again, I drew you to this same old screen you look at everyday, and bore you with nothing more than common jubberish.
My father and I took a Everglades excursion this morning at 10:00. Before the boat tour, my father insisted in going up to the information area and taking not one but two copies of every brochure they could possibly provide. What did he say when he caught me starring at him in awe? "i'm gonna start a collection of brochures so I can have things planned when you come again next month". So you need TWO copies? One for the house, and one to throw in the hurricane that will probably hit next month.
That wasn't the only incident at the information center. Turns out the owner of the guide tour was in the marines.....so basically my father had a field day talking to this man about covert operations, Vietnam, and smuggling of drugs. Of course half way into the conversation the owner turns to his son, Capt. Judd (the guy who was the real tour guide) and said "This guy's a "spook"! Look at the pin he's wearing". This is what my father lives for....he's got spook bling bling you could say. Anyway we hop on the boat, and venture off in search of our first goal: a manatee!
Which for the first 40 minutes.....was a no show.....but all of a sudden! BOOM! we heard a splash in back of our boat. What you want to look for is a pattern of circular waves. This is made by when the manatee surfaces then dives, in which his back tail smacks the top of the water. Well, we had quite the encounter. And from what I could see, I think this manatee wanted to do more with me than just look. It came all the way up to the boat and stuck it's head all the way out to me! So what did I do? Reached out my hand, patted it's head and blew it a kiss. In which is slowly started to re-submerge back into the water. But ohh no, it didn't leave....it came back about 3 minutes later to give me another goodbye kiss! It's skin was unbelievable. Imagine the thickest leather ever made...then multiply that time 10. I've never felt something quite like that.
We saw this Manatee in the canal leading to the Gulf Of Mexico...Cuba was 60 miles away from us. And it turns out that we were on the main smuggling route from about 4 years ago. the stories get better. Although we saw no gators, onced we reached the salt water we encountered a sting ray, which for some reason, I was petrified to look at. It was like a black cloak hoovering across the top of the water. To be honest it reminded me more of a demon than any love stricken manatee I just blew kisses to.
(and by the way this is mostly all recorded, except of course for my intimate moments with Bertha the Algae infested Manatee ((she told me her name, it derives from the fact that she was almost 7 ft. long, and probably weighed over 250 pounds while wearing a nice light green algae night gown.))
So at this time, we go down narrow canals and watch as flocks of these huge white birds (I should know the name but I wasn't listening) fly over us. It seriously felt like I was in some kind of Amazonian boat tour. Straight out of National Geographic I tell yeah. Capt. Judd even sang the theme song from National Geographic. We cruise by many little islands, in which he states thatmany people actually camp out here. And in fact the law is that you can camp out on any island in this region for 30 days, but then after that, you have to go home for a day, but then you can come back and camp out on these deserted islands for another 30 days. I will get into this more in just a little bit. Ohhhhh you can just imagine where i'd go with this. Anthony plus deserted island equals Malaria and imaginations of actually becoming Superman, and or Batman if I were able to find a mask.
So we make our way all the way to the edge of the Everglades, which I must say, is confusing as hell. You completly lose any sense of direction and after about 30 minutes of being in a boat surrounded by Mangrove trees (the building block of all their wetlands) everything begins to look the same, even the canals. I don't know how the tour guide does it, but he well deserved his tip. You know, this is a really positive blog spot.........should I go get checked out? Shouldn't I be like "I fucking fell in the water, an alligator stole my converse, and a male dolphin tried to molest me!" Maybe next time if I'm lucky.
Anyway, at the edge of the Gulf we saw a gaggle of dolphins playing, actually kind of rolling over each other. But this time it wasn't seeing a dolphin that got me excited it was the fact that for once I heard absolute silence! I'm not kidding, the only sound I heard was the noise the video camera was making. Half of the time I turned it off because I realized just how annoying it was. No waves, no loud boad motor, just my own voice saying "ohh my god, it's so quiet". I think the boat captain thought I was on drugs cause I got out of my seat, and climbed to the platform on the edge of the boat and just stood there trying to observe the silence. Seriously.....you think you know what it sounds like......but it's nothing like this.....I know I'm probably making this too big of a deal, but this is what I was referring to at the beginning of this entry. There are absolutly no words to describe how this felt inside. Life made sense, beign alone made sense, thinking to myself made sense, smiling made sense, blinking made sense, everything you never understood or had trouble grasping makes sense when there's a brief moment of total silence. I couldn't even hear myself breath.
anyway, I know im obsessing but this is what made my trip worth while. On the way back Capt. Judd described how certain islands were natorious for being the safe haven for a local pirate back in the 1900's. Something like around 1867, there was a Floridian who claimed to be a pirate, and in his legend him and his brother lived on this island called "Panther's Cove" in which they used to hijack ships coming from Cuba, or any other ships coming through the canal. "Panthers Cove" got it's name cause these two brothers were obsessed with raising goats for food and what not on this certain island. So eventually the panthers in Florida evolved and learned how to cross the canal, in which they usually killed all of the pirates' goats. I know it's a crazy story BUT IT DID HAPPEN!
So basically they stole a bunch boats and treasure and hid them in very small inlets within the mangrove canals. Capt. Judd showed us one of the most famous spots where they used to hide the boats. Anyway, this pirate is suppose to have left his treasure buried somewhere on the island, he lived to 102 and never reclaimed his treasure. he actually died on the same island he stole all the boats from by drowning while net fishing.
My point is, a couple of months ago, a guy found two real gold doubloons on the shore of this exact island we cruised by. The theory is that the hurricane last year uncovered some of this burried treasure.
okay this story is getting boring, too many facts....i'll continue it tomorrow.
I have finding new inspirations in old music. Inspiration with my hair pulled back, no one to see me, I was meant to be a hermet. Only to re-surface once a month for daily tea parties....distribution of goods. The sun is quite different here. My Dad told me this before I came, but typically I seem to always assume he's just crazy. Well, I must say either I'm beginning to think I'm Clark Kent and that the sun gives me power, or I'm just crazy. I must say though, that looking at and feeling the sun soak into your skin is somewhat or a trival yet overlooked experience. I know it's just frying my skin, but something about the warmth brings hope.....maybe the sun just makes me think about really lame subjects like this. See once again, I drew you to this same old screen you look at everyday, and bore you with nothing more than common jubberish.
My father and I took a Everglades excursion this morning at 10:00. Before the boat tour, my father insisted in going up to the information area and taking not one but two copies of every brochure they could possibly provide. What did he say when he caught me starring at him in awe? "i'm gonna start a collection of brochures so I can have things planned when you come again next month". So you need TWO copies? One for the house, and one to throw in the hurricane that will probably hit next month.
That wasn't the only incident at the information center. Turns out the owner of the guide tour was in the marines.....so basically my father had a field day talking to this man about covert operations, Vietnam, and smuggling of drugs. Of course half way into the conversation the owner turns to his son, Capt. Judd (the guy who was the real tour guide) and said "This guy's a "spook"! Look at the pin he's wearing". This is what my father lives for....he's got spook bling bling you could say. Anyway we hop on the boat, and venture off in search of our first goal: a manatee!
Which for the first 40 minutes.....was a no show.....but all of a sudden! BOOM! we heard a splash in back of our boat. What you want to look for is a pattern of circular waves. This is made by when the manatee surfaces then dives, in which his back tail smacks the top of the water. Well, we had quite the encounter. And from what I could see, I think this manatee wanted to do more with me than just look. It came all the way up to the boat and stuck it's head all the way out to me! So what did I do? Reached out my hand, patted it's head and blew it a kiss. In which is slowly started to re-submerge back into the water. But ohh no, it didn't leave....it came back about 3 minutes later to give me another goodbye kiss! It's skin was unbelievable. Imagine the thickest leather ever made...then multiply that time 10. I've never felt something quite like that.
We saw this Manatee in the canal leading to the Gulf Of Mexico...Cuba was 60 miles away from us. And it turns out that we were on the main smuggling route from about 4 years ago. the stories get better. Although we saw no gators, onced we reached the salt water we encountered a sting ray, which for some reason, I was petrified to look at. It was like a black cloak hoovering across the top of the water. To be honest it reminded me more of a demon than any love stricken manatee I just blew kisses to.
(and by the way this is mostly all recorded, except of course for my intimate moments with Bertha the Algae infested Manatee ((she told me her name, it derives from the fact that she was almost 7 ft. long, and probably weighed over 250 pounds while wearing a nice light green algae night gown.))
So at this time, we go down narrow canals and watch as flocks of these huge white birds (I should know the name but I wasn't listening) fly over us. It seriously felt like I was in some kind of Amazonian boat tour. Straight out of National Geographic I tell yeah. Capt. Judd even sang the theme song from National Geographic. We cruise by many little islands, in which he states thatmany people actually camp out here. And in fact the law is that you can camp out on any island in this region for 30 days, but then after that, you have to go home for a day, but then you can come back and camp out on these deserted islands for another 30 days. I will get into this more in just a little bit. Ohhhhh you can just imagine where i'd go with this. Anthony plus deserted island equals Malaria and imaginations of actually becoming Superman, and or Batman if I were able to find a mask.
So we make our way all the way to the edge of the Everglades, which I must say, is confusing as hell. You completly lose any sense of direction and after about 30 minutes of being in a boat surrounded by Mangrove trees (the building block of all their wetlands) everything begins to look the same, even the canals. I don't know how the tour guide does it, but he well deserved his tip. You know, this is a really positive blog spot.........should I go get checked out? Shouldn't I be like "I fucking fell in the water, an alligator stole my converse, and a male dolphin tried to molest me!" Maybe next time if I'm lucky.
Anyway, at the edge of the Gulf we saw a gaggle of dolphins playing, actually kind of rolling over each other. But this time it wasn't seeing a dolphin that got me excited it was the fact that for once I heard absolute silence! I'm not kidding, the only sound I heard was the noise the video camera was making. Half of the time I turned it off because I realized just how annoying it was. No waves, no loud boad motor, just my own voice saying "ohh my god, it's so quiet". I think the boat captain thought I was on drugs cause I got out of my seat, and climbed to the platform on the edge of the boat and just stood there trying to observe the silence. Seriously.....you think you know what it sounds like......but it's nothing like this.....I know I'm probably making this too big of a deal, but this is what I was referring to at the beginning of this entry. There are absolutly no words to describe how this felt inside. Life made sense, beign alone made sense, thinking to myself made sense, smiling made sense, blinking made sense, everything you never understood or had trouble grasping makes sense when there's a brief moment of total silence. I couldn't even hear myself breath.
anyway, I know im obsessing but this is what made my trip worth while. On the way back Capt. Judd described how certain islands were natorious for being the safe haven for a local pirate back in the 1900's. Something like around 1867, there was a Floridian who claimed to be a pirate, and in his legend him and his brother lived on this island called "Panther's Cove" in which they used to hijack ships coming from Cuba, or any other ships coming through the canal. "Panthers Cove" got it's name cause these two brothers were obsessed with raising goats for food and what not on this certain island. So eventually the panthers in Florida evolved and learned how to cross the canal, in which they usually killed all of the pirates' goats. I know it's a crazy story BUT IT DID HAPPEN!
So basically they stole a bunch boats and treasure and hid them in very small inlets within the mangrove canals. Capt. Judd showed us one of the most famous spots where they used to hide the boats. Anyway, this pirate is suppose to have left his treasure buried somewhere on the island, he lived to 102 and never reclaimed his treasure. he actually died on the same island he stole all the boats from by drowning while net fishing.
My point is, a couple of months ago, a guy found two real gold doubloons on the shore of this exact island we cruised by. The theory is that the hurricane last year uncovered some of this burried treasure.
okay this story is getting boring, too many facts....i'll continue it tomorrow.
Jul 18, 2006
I'm down here by the bay, with my arm around the moon.
The day started as if I was trying to capture something I could only see once. Something I knew I would only remember for a month or two.Have you ever noticed at certain points in time just how hard you are trying to capture that moment. Even more so if you can keep it quiet while the recorder lights up red. I caught my Dad's laughter a couple of times, a huge semi passing, scenery, massive structures of steal. quiet moments. It seems so akward when I try to include myself in the shot. The only recording of me was me with my tounge stuck out on purose to the camera. I'm five year old again and I don't even know it.
"Light me with your candle, and watch the flames grow high, no it doesn't have to try"
man....I feel like i've been marching in a straight line all day today, just to find myself pausing at a dead end street. what am I gonna do with you Scott? You're a combination of old songs I keep secret, but only listen to when the moment is right. You're running down such a long road with a transparent map, and I'm getting further away. ohh my....o well.. but as Elliott says "someone's gonna get to you, and fuck up everything you do." you should listen my friend, to these songs.
SO WHOSE HAPPY!!!!!!!???????? I AM..................................(la la la lies) jk, I am. But now Elliott is kinda making me nostalgic about the idea of me playing my acoustic in my room late at night. That's when all the good stuff in life happens to me. I miss my acoustic, okay as you can tell, I'm ready to leave Florida. Did you know I even once tucked my acoustic in to bed with me. I wrote a really cool song, so I figured it didn't need another night in my cold dark closet. I'll be back in a couple of days so really, I kinda just want to get a move on with everything. The time has been calling, I know this why? Because I've found new inspirations through music and very very late night conversations.
you know....this is a different kind of blog right now, a reconciliation of the self. This kind of stuff should be private...but i'm no pirate so I'll share it all with you's guys.
Okay I know lyrics are lame on a website, cause you can basically just go here: http://www.sweetadeline.net/?page_id=214 to see the real deal, but o well. It's one of my favorite songs by Elliott Smith, and it's not on any album I know of except some Japan import. yeah.....you could say i'm an international music listener. The song is called "Pretty Mary K" and although the album sucks donkeyballs, this one packs a mean punch with completely different lyrics and music. I think the sailor prostitute song kinda was looked down upon between whatever huge board members signed Elliott. Did you know this kid can play Rachmaninoff!!! Visit YouTube and check it out for yourselves. Here's the lyrics.
Elliott Smith: Pretty Mary K (Japan Import)
pretty mary k
walks along the dock
with some sailor’s pay
shoved down in her sock.
pretty mary k
with some little boy in blue
who can’t stay away from you.
pretty mary k
took him back to town.
i’m down here by the bay
where the water pounds
up against the wall,
cryin’ black and blue—keeps me away from you
pretty words that you whisper,
maybe i misunderstood.
somebody’s not paying attention what they promise and their word isn’t good.
oh mary k,
i can see your face
down there in the waves,
painted and erased.
but I know it’s just the reflection of the moon,
a big fake resembling you.
i’m gonna go down in the water,
fill my mouth up full of sand.
i’ll be waiting, still impatient with my dead imagination while you’re with some other man.
pretty mary k’s
off in somebody’s room.
i’m down here by the bay
with my arm around the moon.
but i’ll be with you soon,
just as soon as I’ve paid.
i’ll walk across the water
with pretty mary k.
walk on the water, pretty mary k.
.......................sigh...........well it's late and I need to get some sleep cause I'm off for attempt NUMBER TWO at the everglades. yeah today was a bust I'll write about it tomorrow after I actually see a MANATEE, A DOLPHIN, A BLOODY ALLIGATOR!!! AND A ENORMOUS TURTLE NAME SUE.
Who could ask for anything else. Maybe a rich man in a poor mans clothes.
Goodnight, sweet dreams kids.
Anferknee
"Light me with your candle, and watch the flames grow high, no it doesn't have to try"
man....I feel like i've been marching in a straight line all day today, just to find myself pausing at a dead end street. what am I gonna do with you Scott? You're a combination of old songs I keep secret, but only listen to when the moment is right. You're running down such a long road with a transparent map, and I'm getting further away. ohh my....o well.. but as Elliott says "someone's gonna get to you, and fuck up everything you do." you should listen my friend, to these songs.
SO WHOSE HAPPY!!!!!!!???????? I AM..................................(la la la lies) jk, I am. But now Elliott is kinda making me nostalgic about the idea of me playing my acoustic in my room late at night. That's when all the good stuff in life happens to me. I miss my acoustic, okay as you can tell, I'm ready to leave Florida. Did you know I even once tucked my acoustic in to bed with me. I wrote a really cool song, so I figured it didn't need another night in my cold dark closet. I'll be back in a couple of days so really, I kinda just want to get a move on with everything. The time has been calling, I know this why? Because I've found new inspirations through music and very very late night conversations.
you know....this is a different kind of blog right now, a reconciliation of the self. This kind of stuff should be private...but i'm no pirate so I'll share it all with you's guys.
Okay I know lyrics are lame on a website, cause you can basically just go here: http://www.sweetadeline.net/?page_id=214 to see the real deal, but o well. It's one of my favorite songs by Elliott Smith, and it's not on any album I know of except some Japan import. yeah.....you could say i'm an international music listener. The song is called "Pretty Mary K" and although the album sucks donkeyballs, this one packs a mean punch with completely different lyrics and music. I think the sailor prostitute song kinda was looked down upon between whatever huge board members signed Elliott. Did you know this kid can play Rachmaninoff!!! Visit YouTube and check it out for yourselves. Here's the lyrics.
Elliott Smith: Pretty Mary K (Japan Import)
pretty mary k
walks along the dock
with some sailor’s pay
shoved down in her sock.
pretty mary k
with some little boy in blue
who can’t stay away from you.
pretty mary k
took him back to town.
i’m down here by the bay
where the water pounds
up against the wall,
cryin’ black and blue—keeps me away from you
pretty words that you whisper,
maybe i misunderstood.
somebody’s not paying attention what they promise and their word isn’t good.
oh mary k,
i can see your face
down there in the waves,
painted and erased.
but I know it’s just the reflection of the moon,
a big fake resembling you.
i’m gonna go down in the water,
fill my mouth up full of sand.
i’ll be waiting, still impatient with my dead imagination while you’re with some other man.
pretty mary k’s
off in somebody’s room.
i’m down here by the bay
with my arm around the moon.
but i’ll be with you soon,
just as soon as I’ve paid.
i’ll walk across the water
with pretty mary k.
walk on the water, pretty mary k.
.......................sigh...........well it's late and I need to get some sleep cause I'm off for attempt NUMBER TWO at the everglades. yeah today was a bust I'll write about it tomorrow after I actually see a MANATEE, A DOLPHIN, A BLOODY ALLIGATOR!!! AND A ENORMOUS TURTLE NAME SUE.
Who could ask for anything else. Maybe a rich man in a poor mans clothes.
Goodnight, sweet dreams kids.
Anferknee
Jul 11, 2006
To the world of bloggers................you're all lame. To the world of bloggers I know....welcome aboard.....as lame as this site is, and as lame as the concept of writing gibberish can be online, instead of saying going outside and running around....I have confidence that this friend of mine will write some moving sentences. let's see some chaotic twists and turns from the mouth that screams excellence. what am I: Lex Luther? Do I really think I'm that important that I must introduce the name to the fellow viewers here. or is this a way for me to feel like i'm doing something important with my time right now. FOR GOD SAKES CHECK THESE two new sites to check out. As much as i've felt like keeping this secret...I know no one else reads this except the only 3 who are looking at this right now. So in case once and a while, someone forgets the other persons blog address......you've read it here first on, "Maybe Momma doess the Astro"
what will this provide you with in the future? spaceships? robotic microwaveable mini tortillas with triangle sliced ham? god only knows, but we're ready for it. can you make out the changes i've made punk.Jul 10, 2006
The beginning of a new era I tell you......amazing
yeah..........this is going in the history books....as one of the coolest things..........by far.......
and it just looks way cooler on my site.....HA! SHA SHA SHSHAHAHHAHASHSHSA. you know what I have to say to you. One look....one gorgeous look to you!
Jul 9, 2006
Day One: Operation Taco Bell
So, I wake up.....squeeze zippers together on my bag....break one of the carrying straps on my new bag because it's too heavy....get in the car...and my mama drives me off to Detroit Metro. Once again, my ma tells me that she's the closest to me out of everyone in my family.....based on experiences we've had, and because I'm the oldest child. I don't even know how to tell her how that makes me feel. I know sam is still really young, but I think I never give my mom the handfulls of love she deserves. It definitly takes a man to be a family man.
Sad moment before I leave until I pick up my luggage and realize just how heavy it is. Being home in Ann Arbor was....welll.....frickin' awsome.....I kinda wish I had the experience of re doing highschool all over again....WITH OUR NEW HOUSE!!! I think I would probably spend a lot more time in my room (even though that's all I ever did) but I would probably paint lots more.....I ended up getting poision ivy from my dog, but steroids seemed to do the trick....Fricking Hulk Hogen with the extra long receeded hairline over here!
That's how I'd sum up Ann Arbor.
Anyway, went to Detroit Metro....arrived 9:00 am....picked up some Taco Bell aka "yeah it's 9:15 am....in the AIR PORT....why not have a few supreme tacos!" I splurged before my two weeks of facing myself in a bathingsuit were about to be served to me on a daily basis. I figured 2 Supreme Taco's.....would do the trick................and I'd have to say.....Detroit Metro....has by far the best fucking Taco Bell. It it superior to any Lansing, Ann Arbor establishment i've traveled to.
The meat was greasy, the taco's were crunchy, the lettuce felt like NUTRITION in my mouth!!!! the tomatoes yelled "WE PREVENT HEART ATTACKS" while sliding down my throat, and the sour cream was FLIPPING FANTASTICAL! You'd think they actually used a spoon and opened a real container of sour cream. Thank you Metro.........thank you so much.....
So at a time where I said "hey, okay this isn't that bad....i'm traveling....eating bad ass taco bell....gonna get some sun." No it wasn't like that.....at all. The plane ride sucked huge Kang-and Kong-Bonners. Imagine a Kang-Kong (kangaroo and king kong)bonner....................monsterous.......and full of turbulence.....which could be compared to my plane ride to Florida. im so whiney sometimes.
SOOOOOOOOooooOOOOOo i'll continue this another day....like tomorrow....sorry, I'm addicted to Smallville right now so I need to feed the fix.
Sad moment before I leave until I pick up my luggage and realize just how heavy it is. Being home in Ann Arbor was....welll.....frickin' awsome.....I kinda wish I had the experience of re doing highschool all over again....WITH OUR NEW HOUSE!!! I think I would probably spend a lot more time in my room (even though that's all I ever did) but I would probably paint lots more.....I ended up getting poision ivy from my dog, but steroids seemed to do the trick....Fricking Hulk Hogen with the extra long receeded hairline over here!
That's how I'd sum up Ann Arbor.
Anyway, went to Detroit Metro....arrived 9:00 am....picked up some Taco Bell aka "yeah it's 9:15 am....in the AIR PORT....why not have a few supreme tacos!" I splurged before my two weeks of facing myself in a bathingsuit were about to be served to me on a daily basis. I figured 2 Supreme Taco's.....would do the trick................and I'd have to say.....Detroit Metro....has by far the best fucking Taco Bell. It it superior to any Lansing, Ann Arbor establishment i've traveled to.
The meat was greasy, the taco's were crunchy, the lettuce felt like NUTRITION in my mouth!!!! the tomatoes yelled "WE PREVENT HEART ATTACKS" while sliding down my throat, and the sour cream was FLIPPING FANTASTICAL! You'd think they actually used a spoon and opened a real container of sour cream. Thank you Metro.........thank you so much.....
So at a time where I said "hey, okay this isn't that bad....i'm traveling....eating bad ass taco bell....gonna get some sun." No it wasn't like that.....at all. The plane ride sucked huge Kang-and Kong-Bonners. Imagine a Kang-Kong (kangaroo and king kong)bonner....................monsterous.......and full of turbulence.....which could be compared to my plane ride to Florida. im so whiney sometimes.
SOOOOOOOOooooOOOOOo i'll continue this another day....like tomorrow....sorry, I'm addicted to Smallville right now so I need to feed the fix.
Series of.....wait......THIS IS FUCKING CRAZY!
Eyes and ears, nose and hairs, bellys and buttons listen up! I'm in Florida...home of the oranges of heartburn.................listening to Elliott Smith, I've just realized that I've never listened to him while in a state more than 50 miles away than Michigan.
Now it's different here....Elliott Smith in Lansing kind of made me want to knit a tissue out of wool, but for some odd reason....I have.....the urge to find people who can help me plant palm trees all over the highway!!!!! WHOSE UP FOR THAT!!!
....weird.
(I mean that's deep right?.....................it should make me deep somehow shouldn't it?)
better not take that any further.....i've been hanging out my dad too much if you can't already tell. To all you listeners, the belly buttons of our time and all the birthmarked buttockes out there....you know who you are.....In which i'm referring to just myself because I don't really know any other freaks like myself who has a little trampoline shaped baby birthmark placed right on their....let me check hold on....seriously i'm checking......ON THEIR LEFT ASS HANDLE....I'm a dying bread I suppose. I guess the audience is growing, by two more pairs of ears. A thank you Ms. Matis and a thank you Ms. Adduci. Ms. Amnavore.....always a pleasure. That's like 6 ears total........ya know....2 on each person.....it sounds better than saying only three people read this....wait what the fuck am I talking about....EARS!!!!!!!!!!! There are no ears reading this.
It's not like you're listening to me while I'm writing this................right?
if you are......maybe that's a little creepy, but if you can infiltrate my mind with mind tickeling messagal powers......wowza! Mind high fives all around.
Eyes not ears are gliding....skimming....surfing...and sliding....bobbing...and trotting down the road of these letters.
THAS RIGHT!!!! this is all live from my brain writing right here, no typos, no revisions....no centering of clever titles....Live from the brain that could also be called the Mellenium Pelican, not Falcon like in that lame movie Star Wars, but the Melenuium Pelican brain that's inside my skull.....rotating like the earth probably.
LETS BE SERIOUS NOW OHHH UH HUHHHHHHHh. that was me singing. Insert a picture of me jumping in the air with thumbs up but then WOAH FREEZE THE SHOT!!!! SNAP SNAP SNAP (goes the shutter).....awsome.
ha! if you can't tell Florida is reviving me....i'm more in touch with my toes and the slippery slope called.......ummm keyboard writing maybe?
better sell it while you can. So...I use a lot of these pause points while I'm sitting here with my belly burned. I'm trying to figure out the best way to go about this. which translates into literary nonsense.
This is a confusing post....so much has happened...so many crazy instances with my pap's. I will have to think. I think I need to do a day by day analaysis of the events that have occured so far. Please feel free to applaude my use of "analaysis", thanks to hearing my Dad talking about covert operations and the cures for anthrax AND OR a radioactive war, i've become highly developed in my use of the HUMAN LANGUAGE known as internet English. Call it the "spectacular awe" if you will, you could even call it......... Inter-Glish....which is of course a very long word in Latin that translates to "Internet-Anthony's-arm-pits-smelled-really-bad-at-the-beach-today-in-which-they-almost-fumigated-him-to-the-point-of-wanting-to-leave-after-two-hours-due-to-lack-of-anti-persperant-agents-English."
Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.....that of course was rapid thought patterns strolling through my brain as to what I should FANTASTICALLY FANTAZ your mind with next. okay new post coming. I want this in a three parter. I need to start leaving edges and cliffs all over the place so you start getting excited to read this.
Okay maybe that was a little too much to ask for off the start. maybe you can just scroll down for me a little? just a little click click, click click here and there....wait this is going to be at the bottom of the posts!!! shit I need to figure out how this is gonna go.
Now it's different here....Elliott Smith in Lansing kind of made me want to knit a tissue out of wool, but for some odd reason....I have.....the urge to find people who can help me plant palm trees all over the highway!!!!! WHOSE UP FOR THAT!!!
....weird.
(I mean that's deep right?.....................it should make me deep somehow shouldn't it?)
better not take that any further.....i've been hanging out my dad too much if you can't already tell. To all you listeners, the belly buttons of our time and all the birthmarked buttockes out there....you know who you are.....In which i'm referring to just myself because I don't really know any other freaks like myself who has a little trampoline shaped baby birthmark placed right on their....let me check hold on....seriously i'm checking......ON THEIR LEFT ASS HANDLE....I'm a dying bread I suppose. I guess the audience is growing, by two more pairs of ears. A thank you Ms. Matis and a thank you Ms. Adduci. Ms. Amnavore.....always a pleasure. That's like 6 ears total........ya know....2 on each person.....it sounds better than saying only three people read this....wait what the fuck am I talking about....EARS!!!!!!!!!!! There are no ears reading this.
It's not like you're listening to me while I'm writing this................right?
if you are......maybe that's a little creepy, but if you can infiltrate my mind with mind tickeling messagal powers......wowza! Mind high fives all around.
Eyes not ears are gliding....skimming....surfing...and sliding....bobbing...and trotting down the road of these letters.
THAS RIGHT!!!! this is all live from my brain writing right here, no typos, no revisions....no centering of clever titles....Live from the brain that could also be called the Mellenium Pelican, not Falcon like in that lame movie Star Wars, but the Melenuium Pelican brain that's inside my skull.....rotating like the earth probably.
LETS BE SERIOUS NOW OHHH UH HUHHHHHHHh. that was me singing. Insert a picture of me jumping in the air with thumbs up but then WOAH FREEZE THE SHOT!!!! SNAP SNAP SNAP (goes the shutter).....awsome.
ha! if you can't tell Florida is reviving me....i'm more in touch with my toes and the slippery slope called.......ummm keyboard writing maybe?
better sell it while you can. So...I use a lot of these pause points while I'm sitting here with my belly burned. I'm trying to figure out the best way to go about this. which translates into literary nonsense.
This is a confusing post....so much has happened...so many crazy instances with my pap's. I will have to think. I think I need to do a day by day analaysis of the events that have occured so far. Please feel free to applaude my use of "analaysis", thanks to hearing my Dad talking about covert operations and the cures for anthrax AND OR a radioactive war, i've become highly developed in my use of the HUMAN LANGUAGE known as internet English. Call it the "spectacular awe" if you will, you could even call it......... Inter-Glish....which is of course a very long word in Latin that translates to "Internet-Anthony's-arm-pits-smelled-really-bad-at-the-beach-today-in-which-they-almost-fumigated-him-to-the-point-of-wanting-to-leave-after-two-hours-due-to-lack-of-anti-persperant-agents-English."
Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.....that of course was rapid thought patterns strolling through my brain as to what I should FANTASTICALLY FANTAZ your mind with next. okay new post coming. I want this in a three parter. I need to start leaving edges and cliffs all over the place so you start getting excited to read this.
Okay maybe that was a little too much to ask for off the start. maybe you can just scroll down for me a little? just a little click click, click click here and there....wait this is going to be at the bottom of the posts!!! shit I need to figure out how this is gonna go.
Jul 4, 2006
A very good song indeed...........
----------------------------------------------------------------------
You're on the distant shore
You're on the distant shore
Oceans never listened to us anyway
Oceans never listened to us anyway
And if I fall into the drink
I will say your name before I sink
He says your name out loud
And in it your rooms where no ones found
It's a desperate sound
You're on the distant shore
He stands his feet down
Do you hear his knuckles on your door
And he wants to send you drawings
drawings of men with faithful hands
they'll make such good boyfriends
And he wants to tell you stories
stories of boys who stommped their feet
saying "shut shut up, i'm dreaming of places where lovers have wings"
And I'll meet you where the river forks
when everyone else is dead, you'll be safe on the water
we'll be much younger and we remember
You're on the distant shore
I stand my feet down down do you hear the knuckles on your door
do you understand what I'm fighting for
but, oceans never listened to us anyway
oceans never listened to us anyway
If I fall into the drink
I'll say your name before I sink
but oceans never listened to us anyway
I'm afraid of the water
I'm afraid of the sky
I'm tired of waiting
but oceans never listened to us anyway
and oceans never listened to us anyway
And if I fall into the drink
I will say your name before I sink
oceans never listened to us anyway
.........so
don't make a sound
don't make a sound
don't make a sound
don't make a sound
don't make a sound
don't make a sound
don't make a sound
-------------------------------------------------------------------
..............I don't even know what to say about that song. Song number 10, "Shut uP I'm dreaming of a place where lovers have wings", by Sunset Rubdown. It's so clever, yet so simple, but then again no one is producing music like this fellow.....he needs to keep on going...for the sake of all that's holy with good music.
I missed probably a really good concert last night. O well...."One in six Children will flee in boats" is a good song by Frog Eyes, off the album Ego Scriptor. Something I really enjoy about those albums is the fact that they are lyrically the same songs on almost three different albums....but the MUSIC is so damn different and.....well................just fucking mint. Also check out "Ship Destroyer" off the album "The Folded Palm".....the other versions are decent, but this is fucking outrageous....in a good way that makes you want to travel back to the 50's and just dance a lot in between hamburger stands.....which is making me think about
Pee Wee Herman's movie. the last scene, when they're at the movie theatre getting all the food. That movie used to scare me. Especially when he's hitch hiking and ends up at that dinosaur theme park.
What ever happen to Dino theme parks. The kind where you'd see no other cars, but you'd just take a left off the highway and drive through some tree invested path with gigantic fake dino's. Not the real deal but it was so much fun. I used to go with my Dad a lot.
Man who wants to watch Jurassic Park now? I don't, but then again that's a lie.
I'm excited to see him..............my dad, but I've been having a good time in Ann Arbor too. I forgot how comfortable couches can be. Ohhh shit I need to sleep a little. I had to participate in this fair we have every year where all the old people of Ann Arbor drive their old ass collectors cars around in this 4th of July parade. Well since Jim has a really old restored Jeep from like WWI, I was kind of forced to sit in the back of it with Sam and her friend whose the same age at 9 o clock this morning..................and we basically threw candies, small candies, not jolly ranchers though, at all the kids standing on the sidewalk.....I WAS IN A FUCKING PARADE TODAY and i might add I pretty much resembled Edward Sissorhands since I put all my hair up in three little buns last night and slept with them in all throughout the night.
So what would a tired Eduard SissorHands do? Yeah....I pelted a kid in the face with a blowpop, in which moments later I wanted to whisper to Jim, "Jim...speed up a little, follow Ms. Washtenaw County in front of you....I pelted a kid in the head with a sucker." I don't think he was crying, but it did make everyone laugh.
AND MS. WASTENAW COUNTY WAS IN THE CAR IN FRONT OF US. Sam got her autograph before the parade started.....you know.............the Reach family being all VIP before Ann Arbor parades.
Goodnight........no one reads this shit...............I should just talk to myself more I suppose.
You're on the distant shore
You're on the distant shore
Oceans never listened to us anyway
Oceans never listened to us anyway
And if I fall into the drink
I will say your name before I sink
He says your name out loud
And in it your rooms where no ones found
It's a desperate sound
You're on the distant shore
He stands his feet down
Do you hear his knuckles on your door
And he wants to send you drawings
drawings of men with faithful hands
they'll make such good boyfriends
And he wants to tell you stories
stories of boys who stommped their feet
saying "shut shut up, i'm dreaming of places where lovers have wings"
And I'll meet you where the river forks
when everyone else is dead, you'll be safe on the water
we'll be much younger and we remember
You're on the distant shore
I stand my feet down down do you hear the knuckles on your door
do you understand what I'm fighting for
but, oceans never listened to us anyway
oceans never listened to us anyway
If I fall into the drink
I'll say your name before I sink
but oceans never listened to us anyway
I'm afraid of the water
I'm afraid of the sky
I'm tired of waiting
but oceans never listened to us anyway
and oceans never listened to us anyway
And if I fall into the drink
I will say your name before I sink
oceans never listened to us anyway
.........so
don't make a sound
don't make a sound
don't make a sound
don't make a sound
don't make a sound
don't make a sound
don't make a sound
-------------------------------------------------------------------
..............I don't even know what to say about that song. Song number 10, "Shut uP I'm dreaming of a place where lovers have wings", by Sunset Rubdown. It's so clever, yet so simple, but then again no one is producing music like this fellow.....he needs to keep on going...for the sake of all that's holy with good music.
I missed probably a really good concert last night. O well...."One in six Children will flee in boats" is a good song by Frog Eyes, off the album Ego Scriptor. Something I really enjoy about those albums is the fact that they are lyrically the same songs on almost three different albums....but the MUSIC is so damn different and.....well................just fucking mint. Also check out "Ship Destroyer" off the album "The Folded Palm".....the other versions are decent, but this is fucking outrageous....in a good way that makes you want to travel back to the 50's and just dance a lot in between hamburger stands.....which is making me think about
Pee Wee Herman's movie. the last scene, when they're at the movie theatre getting all the food. That movie used to scare me. Especially when he's hitch hiking and ends up at that dinosaur theme park.
What ever happen to Dino theme parks. The kind where you'd see no other cars, but you'd just take a left off the highway and drive through some tree invested path with gigantic fake dino's. Not the real deal but it was so much fun. I used to go with my Dad a lot.
Man who wants to watch Jurassic Park now? I don't, but then again that's a lie.
I'm excited to see him..............my dad, but I've been having a good time in Ann Arbor too. I forgot how comfortable couches can be. Ohhh shit I need to sleep a little. I had to participate in this fair we have every year where all the old people of Ann Arbor drive their old ass collectors cars around in this 4th of July parade. Well since Jim has a really old restored Jeep from like WWI, I was kind of forced to sit in the back of it with Sam and her friend whose the same age at 9 o clock this morning..................and we basically threw candies, small candies, not jolly ranchers though, at all the kids standing on the sidewalk.....I WAS IN A FUCKING PARADE TODAY and i might add I pretty much resembled Edward Sissorhands since I put all my hair up in three little buns last night and slept with them in all throughout the night.
So what would a tired Eduard SissorHands do? Yeah....I pelted a kid in the face with a blowpop, in which moments later I wanted to whisper to Jim, "Jim...speed up a little, follow Ms. Washtenaw County in front of you....I pelted a kid in the head with a sucker." I don't think he was crying, but it did make everyone laugh.
AND MS. WASTENAW COUNTY WAS IN THE CAR IN FRONT OF US. Sam got her autograph before the parade started.....you know.............the Reach family being all VIP before Ann Arbor parades.
Goodnight........no one reads this shit...............I should just talk to myself more I suppose.
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