Jeff, The Coaster Guy.

So my awesome roommate Starlight (still test driving blog names for her) stole us a bunch of really creepy coasters. They all feature a cartoon guy names Jeff who looks somewhat (but not in a liable kind of way) like Stephen King. He seems to get lucky with the ladies a lot (if these coasters are to be believed).

Rock on Starlight.

(Sorry that this picture quality is so bad. I took this picture on my phone. In the dark. Under water.)




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This song is kind of a meme for me right now.

“Volcano”
Damien Rice


Don't hold yourself like that
You'll hurt your knees
I kissed your mouth and back
But that's all I need
Don't build your world around volcanoes melt you down

What I am to you is not real
What I am to you you do not need
What I am to you is not what you mean to me
You give me miles and miles of mountains
And I'll ask for the sea

Don't throw yourself like that
In front of me
I kissed your mouth your back
Is that all you need?
Don't drag my love around volcanoes melt me down

What I am to you is not real
What I am to you you do not need
What I am to you is not what you mean to me
You give me miles and miles of mountains
And I'll ask what I give to you
Is just what I'm going through
This is nothing new
No no just another phase of finding what I really need
Is what makes me bleed
And like a new disease she's still too young to treat
Like a distant tree
Volcanoes melt me down
She's still too young
I kissed your mouth
You do not need me



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What the Hell is Going on Down There?

A very strange Guatemalan man preemptively accuses the Guatemalan president of killing him, and then has his cousins secretly hire an assassin to kill him (the deranged man, not the Guatemalan president).

Or maybe it should be like this: A Guatemalan man orchestrates his own assassination and in the process nearly destabilizes the Guatemalan government.

Or maybe like this: I will never vacation in Guatemala.

Read all about it on the BBC.

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Hobos and Their Wines.

So I was just trying to explain the difference between Manischewitz and Carlo Rossi by parsing out which type of hobo drinks which and then my new roommate Daffodil (still test driving blog names for her) asked if I was a ‘shitty wine connoisseur’, by which she clarified to mean, ‘a connoisseur of shitty wine’, to which I responded, ‘Yes.’

BTW,for future reference:

This is a Manischewitz hobo.



This is a Carlo Rossi hobo.

"Flames" By VAST

Ignore the silly picture and just listen. This is one of the most stunningly beautiful little songs ever. EVER.



This is a “band” called VAST, but it is really just a guy named John Crosby and everything he touches turns to magic.


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Some Bullshit You Should Skip.

I am not ashamed to say that I am feeling a little bit weird right now. If I actually know you in real life, or if you have read this blog lately or if you’re my mom (hi Mom!), you know that I have recently gone through a breakup and that it has not the easiest breakup in history (though I’m sure it wasn’t the hardest either. I mean, neither of us was Sid Vicious or anything).

And so I’m feeling weird because I had a relatively smooth day at work today and so I just worked and worked and worked and then it was time to go home. And I came home, but there was no one here. I mean, the cats were here, but my roommate Dandelion (I’m still test-driving blog names for her) was at work and I didn’t have any plans for the night and I didn’t really feel like calling anyone up, so I have just been unpacking boxes and working on my sexy vampire robots and otherwise sitting in front of the computer and reading news and such and sending unsolicited blog entries out onto the unappreciative Internets.

Now I don’t want you to form some picture of me in your head as sad and lonely, because while I may be both sad and lonely, I don’t feel pitiful and I don’t want you to think that of me. There is a part of me that enjoys sitting here and typing these words on the dirty little plastic keys of my laptop. There is a part of me that is beginning to relax. I feel like it has been like five or six years since I was really relaxed. That seems like too long, right?

But I’m sitting here and I’m realizing that I basically feel like I’m on summer vacation, like this isn’t exactly my life, though it is not necessarily a bad one. The thing is that I have spent almost my entire adult life in one of two relationships. If you added it all up I have probably only been single for less than two years since I was seventeen. Unlike other bouts of singlehood in my past, I have the impression that this one might stick for a while. So I am trying very hard to rejigger my brain to the understanding that this is how lots and lots of people go through life. It is very strange. And it makes me want to ask all of you single people, what the hell have you been doing with your time? I mean, sure right now I’m just a guy yammering away on his blog, but I just went through a break up. Give me a few months and I will be knee deep in a novel (oh yeah! I want desperately to be writing a novel, my head just isn’t quite right yet).

Anyway, I guess the point is that this is weird. It is strange to sit here alone and listen to my Pandora (she has been like my babysitter lately) and to know that my girlfriend isn’t going to be walking in anytime soon. That she isn’t going to tell me about her day and that we aren’t going to make some small dinner together and then whisper to each other in bed later. It is very strange.

There is a part of me that realizes my life is completely off the rails right now and therefore anything is possible. I have yet to decide if that is exciting or horrifying. But I am trying to figure it out. No doubt you will have to read a lot more about it as I work on figuring it out.

And if the tone and tenor of this particular entry is not to your taste (because I sound sad) then just take some solace in the fact that I have already decided that July is going to be a super awesome month. I want to take advantage of July and try to sink my teeth into a little bit of life. I don’t really know what that means yet, but I want to suck the marrow from some bones. If you’re lucky I will find my camera soon so that you can see that when it happens.


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My Slow Descent into Madness Begins.

So I was just going though the little red notebook that I keep in my back pocket all the time and I discovered that at some point I wrote down: Scratch a DJ Scratch Cat.

I have no memory of writing that and even less of an idea what it means. But it is clearly my handwriting.

Does anybody have any idea what that means?

Is it like some cool internet meme?

I’m so confused.

I think I need to start sleeping more. Also I haven't eaten anything but Slimfast bars in like three or four days.


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