Messages

I know the entertainment industry has always been about making money.  And maybe I'm just becoming a jaded, cynical 30-something, but, at least back in the day, it seemed like at least they were giving us an imaginative story, and then told us to go out and buy the action figures, breakfast cereals, and lunchboxes.  I could tell, even as a young kid watching Fraggle Rock, that the stories they were telling were imaginative and poignant.  I think that goes for the other Henson properties and many other shows/movies from back in that time. 

Today it just seems way more cookie-cutter and formulaic.  It's the merchandise first and then the story, which is basically just mad-libbed.  It's why I like the Pixar movies.  Probably one of the few movie companies that are attempting and producing original content.  Even the sequels don't suck. 

Everyone else is going to take everything we grew up on, dip it in plastic and splosions, and pretend somehow that it is a) good, b) entertaining, and c) somehow maintaining the spirit of the original. 

The answer is obviously d) none of the above, ever. 

I'm glad you mentioned Pixar here, I was halfway through your first paragraph when I thought of them.  Here we have a company that other companies love because their marketability, but one that delivers quality in spite of it.  They'll crank out the sure-thing merchandising brands like Cars and Toy Story (which are still at least good) to give themselves the creative legroom for really experimental projects like WALL-E (how the fuck do you sell a movie where the two main characters don't speak) and Up (how the hell do you sell a movie about an old man and a kid flying in a house with balloons).  It's just too bad they're part of a trend where traditional animation seems to be suffering in favor of CG animation.

There seems to always have been a trend of children's entertainment just being children's marketing.  Every now and then instead of the same old there's a real gem among them that has more to it than just distraction.  Henson was one of these, Pixar might be one of these, the first Shrek had some good fairy tale deconstruction to it as well.

[Try not to throw your coffee into the bottom, pour molten lava over it, screw the cap on with too much force and gusto causing it to crack under the pressure and you know, don't slam the plunger down like you're trying to squash a midget with it or something.]

I love mine.
I use 2tablespoons of coffee per 8oz cup.

These things may be a little rickety yes. Try not to throw your coffee into the bottom, pour molten lava over it, screw the cap on with too much force and gusto causing it to crack under the pressure and you know, don't slam the plunger down like you're trying to squash a midget with it or something.

These things require fragility and a delicate touch. The sludge at the bottom is the bonus bit. Think of it as a little chunk of chocolate in the bottom of your juice. The claw that comes out of the shell perfectly to be dipped in butter and devoured. The big piece of fried chicken.

That hum, dear Richter, is the sound of production and serenity. When at the end of the day the lawn has been mowed, everything is clean, the laundry is done, there's a fridge full of food, dinner is hot on the table, a car was donated, a building was painted, a movie was watched and the only thing you remember from the whole day, THE WHOLE DAY was that you pooped at about 12:30.

Oh THIS is where my problem with the contraption arose from.  You see, first I ground the beans into a fine enough powder that one could absorb the caffeine through pores and get the jitters all while growing blackheads made out of coffee grinds.  The water I used was heavy with minerals of unknown origin from my town's early days, and possibly before that even.  The device which I used to heat the water resembled a prop from the witches in Macbeth and when the water had emptied the residue left behind tripled its thickness and strength.  But those are normal coffee roasting procedures.

It was when I looked at the plunger and saw within its rail-thin construction my own skinny frame that has always been the object of ridicule.  I cursed the thing, and using all the strength pencil arms can afford I slammed the bastard down, sloshing lightly browned water right out the top.  This didn't work, as a few grounds managed to slip through, so I decided I obviously hadn't used enough force.  I placed the mini french press on the ground with the plunger up on one side of my apartment.  Donning steel toed Dr. Martens I ran to the thing and landed precisely on the little nub atop the plunger.  Again, coffee splattered about with the powder-fine grinds mixed about it.

The third try I wizened up.  Of course using my hands and feet to operate the thing wasn't going to work; this was a complex machine.  I thought back to my boy scout days where I learned the proper technique for swinging axes and whatnot and proceeded to the basement.  There I found a sledgehammer, all dented and knobby from my previous encounter trying to create adequate pressure in those old shoes that had the pump in them that were all the rage a decade or so ago.  Armed thusly, I squared my stance and stood over the french press thingy.  One hand rested at the bottom of the hilt and the other toward the sledge portion, and as I swung it behind my right shoulder and over my head I slipped the right hand down the hilt to add power to the motion.  The plunger plunged - right through the cup, not only spraying the grinds and scalding water about but this time also sending shards of molten plastic through the skin of my legs, creating a series of wretched scaly melted skin/plastic patches from ankle to groin.  The sledgehammer was unharmed.

1/5 - I would not purchase this product again.

Dok lost two pounds while eating pasty pies last week.  It can only be reasonably concluded that pasty pies are a weight loss tool.

The movie adaptation of Fraggle Rock is getting a new screenwriter - for an "edgier" script.

Director/Screenwriter Corey Edwards has updated his blog with a note warning Fraggle Rock  fans that "there are some dark days ahead, my friends." As it turns out, The Weinstein Company, who has been working with Edwards on a big screen Fraggle Rock movie, has begun a wide search for a new screenwriter to come aboard the project after demanding the the script was "not edgy enough."

Down at Fraggle Rock they had things just about figured out.  Of course they had problems; space gets cramped underground you know, but oh what little those caves did to their spirits.  Living with no sun to speak of would drive the best of our moods spiraling downward but not those little guys.  You ask one of them what it's like to live in a dark stone cavern and they cheerily reply with how well it carries their voices on their many daily songs, how it melds their voices together to something more.  That's what the Fraggles were all about; individuals each strong alone coming together for something greater still.

They did their work with us, with their "Ambassador" Henson, for four years.  It was a big four years for them, they were explorers at heart and loved the idea of a new world above to strike out and learn about humanity.  And we lapped up every second of it, didn't we, their catchy tunes and their oddly relevant lessons?  Here we had beings so foreign who somehow understood us better than we did ourselves.  It wasn't at the price of introspection that they knew so much and still remained cheerful.  No, they were deep people, they after all knew only darkness really.  It was through strict discipline of mind that the Fraggles kept things running as they were lest they fall into the traps we've all seen ourselves.

Henson saw the toll our world exacted on them as days went by.  Groups of Fraggles would strike off as stowaways on boats and airplanes to examine the humans above and report back.  They would gather together like they loved to do in one of the production areas, at these times strangely less welcoming of outsiders than was their nature.  They would speak in hushed voices.  Faint gasps could be heard.  Every day some scouts returned was followed by a wary eye by the Fraggles the next day on set; stress lines began crossing their eyes.  Listen closely to the final season and you might hear a note of sorrow in their song.  How could they trust humans knowing what we're capable of?

It was the height of their success that the kindly muppet man requested they return home.  The higher-ups were obviously less than thrilled that their merchandising and ratings would disappear just like that.  Like always, Henson fought them tooth and nail on behalf of the strange creatures he'd come to love.  Even seeing in his other projects how cold the money makers could be, Jim left that meeting disturbed; disturbed by the sly and slight smile on the face of one man in the back of the room.  A man who was biding his time.

Things were largely normal back home for them for quite a few years.  Long enough, almost disturbingly precisely perhaps, for us to forget what the Fraggles once meant to us.  And maybe for them to forget what we are.  Their man came to Fraggle Rock long after Jim was gone.  There was quiet in the cave.  They didn't like him, didn't like the menace behind the well trained publicity smile.  They didn't like the greed they saw when they explained the Doozers, how he almost licked his chops at the idea of a race of workers who knew only to work and never understood why.  But they listened.  That's what they do.

Turns out that man didn't need contracts.  He didn't need legalities.  All he needed to was ask for help.  Help us.  It was a cry none of the Fraggles could turn down.  The ones that had forgotten the world above in their twenty year absence jumped at the chance to try again to teach us what life was really about.  They could sing and laugh again, for us, and we could share it.  And the man just smiled sly and slight.

With props to Richter for his recent Audio Book entry on bringing this about.

I wrote this three months ago, I figured with no responses it was a flop.     Thanks for the bump FP.

I don't get it.  Maybe I got a shitty one but that one cup french press didn't work well for me at all.  Not to mention keeping the thing stewing in its own grounds for as long as it takes you to drink it, turning your perfectly good french press taste into a sludgy mess.  You might as well use a damn percolator if that's your goal.  Not for EoC, I tells ya, none of this portable french press nonsense no thank you.  I'll use my glass beaker metal plunger holy shrine, I'll use it to make coffee ice cubes so when I chill the drink on hot days it only gets stronger as they melt.

What is this talk of harpoons?  Has someone taken this town's only appeal?  Why the hell would I even bother to continue living here if so?  I can find a 15% unemployment rate without harpoons just about anywhere these days.

Pretty safe to say Florida is mine 
I've lived here for 25 yrs.

I'm hoping it can be more comprehensive with several people's take on the same area.  For instance I put my tourist experience in SF, but someone who lived there would definitely have better suggestions.  Anyway do it, Squid, DO FLORIDA.

Well I'm glad there's such interest.  If you'd like to submit a write up of your town or one you've visited, just put it out there.  Squid, I think it's safe to assume Florida is your territory, maybe Suu if she's interested.  If anyone knows of people who'd be down for contributing let them know about it and I can try to get it all together.

Right now it looks like I'll just take write ups and edit them into the original post.  If it gets seriously comprehensive I'll have to draw upon the knowledge pool here to get a more efficient method of putting it out there.

[MY CITY SHALL RISE AGAIN TRIUMPHANT!]

It wouldn't surprise me, if after this debacle has run it's course, all the Nations of the World, as one, decide that Oil drilling, and reliance on fossil fuels is just too problematic, and dirty.





Then return to Whaling.

MY CITY SHALL RISE AGAIN TRIUMPHANT!

ETA Futurama:

Oh, and a big  to EoC for his rendition of "Ghouls Night Out"

Thank you Dimo and Twid.  It was way easier than the Wu-Tang clan thing I did yesterday.  Oh, and this is where I mention I'm going to see Danzig next Monday (and the only original Misfits member that won't be at the show is Jerry Only).

Payne actually is scottish (as opposed to honorary) ergo he lacks the critical faculty to know what he's doing. Ever. The Scottish empire only ever get things right by coincidence That's why we drink so much: drunk people are far more likely to have an accident. And that's the only way smart things happen round here.

eg. Alexander Graham Bell, whilst on an epic bender, became inextricably tangled in a bunch of electrical wiring. He was so drunk he was actually convinced his assistant was in the same room and asked him to help. The assistant however had been involved in a drunken argument with Alex, who had attempted to throttle him with the same wiring. The assistant had managed to stagger/flee from the wrath of the bearded pisshead, to his house next door, not realising the cable was still wrapped round his neck. When Alexander spoke to him he thought he was hearing voices.

It wasn't til about a month later that the assistant actually remembered the events and thus, after first eliminating a whole bunch of theories about whiskey and demonology, the telephone was discovered.

(we call them discoveries in scotland - invention implies intent)

Okay, so I have been dealing with this it (not sure if it's a girl or a guy) for a few years now. I have been friends with this it for a long time. We have been on and off until I just couldn't deal with it's bullshit anymore. I had asked my mother, the one who had help me through life, for advice. She had said to ignore the situation and it will get the picture. So i have ignored it for almost two years now, but it won't fucking get it! So one day I have confronted it and hollered out to the world, "Listen you complaining know-it-all, I have dealt with YOUR shit for a while now. And I will NOT deal with it any longer. I DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR FUCKING FRIEND ANYMORE!! Capeche?!" Now I think I failed because, it STILL thinks that I am STILL its FRIEND!!! I just want to fucking claw my eyes out and feed it to myself.

And this is my unfortunate story.  

You have a friend and you don't know if it is a guy or a girl?  I can't get past that part.  Who the hell doesn't know if their friend is male or female?  Maybe it wants you.....  You know, unrequited love and all that bullshit.

Still, what sex it is would have been a serious priority a long time ago.





Edited because I can't fucking spell!!!   

Is this "it" a gender confused aspect of your own personality?

Not really, I don't flirt with straight chicks, they get all weird on you thinking all you want to do is get in their pants, I don't flirt with redneck guys, same reason.  So part of it comes down to is if this friend is flirtable or not.  No seriously..... I don't go clothes shopping with straight guys, don't discuss that time of the month, childbirth, needing to shave my legs etc.. with guys, straight or otherwise.

Anyone who has been in my life as long as this person has been in PZ's would have had to have advanced to "real friend" or I wouldn't have continued to have anything to do with them yanno?  Aquaintances are just that, someone you say hi to at parent teacher meetings and so forth.

Aside from that, I am fairly certain I'm female as I did give birth to 3 kids, but then again, maybe I'm not.... one never knows on PD right?

Sorry, I meant the question for OP, I guess I quotefailed.  Glad you didn't take it too personally though. 

Okay, so I have been dealing with this it (not sure if it's a girl or a guy) for a few years now. I have been friends with this it for a long time. We have been on and off until I just couldn't deal with it's bullshit anymore. I had asked my mother, the one who had help me through life, for advice. She had said to ignore the situation and it will get the picture. So i have ignored it for almost two years now, but it won't fucking get it! So one day I have confronted it and hollered out to the world, "Listen you complaining know-it-all, I have dealt with YOUR shit for a while now. And I will NOT deal with it any longer. I DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR FUCKING FRIEND ANYMORE!! Capeche?!" Now I think I failed because, it STILL thinks that I am STILL its FRIEND!!! I just want to fucking claw my eyes out and feed it to myself.

And this is my unfortunate story.  

Is this "it" a gender confused aspect of your own personality?

Edit: quotefail

[San Francisco]

So, I've been around the country a bit in the last month or so and other pders have been to a lot more places a lot more frequently.  We're spread out, we've all gone to different places, etc.  I'm wondering what the interest would be in getting together a bunch of pieces as a travel guide with our own spin on it - pointing people to actually interesting parts of cities instead of hellholes, maybe touching upon stuff that a regular guide wouldn't.  Think Weird New England, but written by people you know.

Anyway, this is in Discordian Recipes right now because even if we can't get a legit travel guide, at the very least we could have a list of good places to eat, little hidden gems you know about that even other locals might not.

Example:

California

City:  San Francisco - EoC
Area:  Fisherman's Wharf

Fisherman's Wharf is an area well known for blubbery mammals sunning themselves on wooden planks against the backdrop of the beautiful Golden Gate Bridge.  Sea lions are also known to show up there.  While the majority of this destination seems to be reserved for cheap souvenier shops and only-in-tourist-town eateries like Bubba Gump Shrimp there are a few gems to be found by the water.

The view is certainly worth seeing, offering Alcatraz, aforementioned bridge and sea life, and some seriously bizarre street performers often from the same vantage point.  Fresh crab is readily available from a number of little stands for a seafood lunch.  

Check out Musee Mechanique, a private museum housing historic coin operated machines - able to be used by the public.  Break a dollar and you can watch a mechanized reenactment of a British trial and hanging, get your fortune read by a terrifying wizard, enjoy a brief vintage peep show, and arm wrestle against a robotic bicep.

What to see:

Just south of San Francisco, an easy drive or a hop off the commuter rail is Colma.  The area is known for its density of cemeteries, but one will have particular interest.  The Woodlawn Memorial Park is the current resting place of Joshua Norton, Emperor of the United States and Protector of Mexico.  The Woodlawn office has maps at the ready and the employees were more than willing to send travelers in the right direction.  

City:  Fresno - Secret Agent GARBO (HoverCat)

In the Fresno area proper, there's practically nothing touristy (I have no idea what the German and Japanese tourists come here for). Tower district is like a mini Castro, sort of, and Tower Theater is really cool inside. If you like antiquing, there's some decent stores in Old Town Clovis (I still recommend Fulton's Folly, though, which is in Tower). I can't speak for most of the little towns around here otherwise because I don't go to them.

Good restaurants:
Tsing Tao
North India
Teazers (actually a tea house)
Piemonte's deli
Mezze House (best Mediterranean place in town)
Thai Gem (teeeny tiny place, like I think the max is twenty people, including staff)
Me 'n Ed's (a super good local pizza chain)
Edo Ya
Brahama Bull
Starline Grill

Cool clubs/bars:
The Starline (for local acts)

Other:
Clovis Farmer's Market is every Friday all summer long. Really, really, really good produce, local acts, various things to distract your kids, like a bounce slide, and pretty good food.


In the Sierras:
Yosemite (ehhh...scads of tourists, though still pretty)
Squaw Leap Loop (a small hiking trail - pretty and moderately difficult)
Sequoia National Park (much prettier and much quieter than Yosemite - it and Kings Canyon tend to be where locals go)
Kings Canyon (absolutely gorgeous and very quiet)
Shaver Lake (man made lake, but very pretty. Popular day trip spot here, and Shaver Pizza is a good spot for lunch/dinner)
Dinkey Creek - pretty, there's fishing, and Honeymoon Pool is a good swim in the late summer)

City:  San Diego - Jenne

San Diego, CA.

You got your usual haunts that are "internationally known," like the Zoo, Balboa Park, and SeaWorld.

Balboa Park is the only WORTHY of those three, because it's got some cultural bent to it.  It's got these international houses that specialize in the cultures from the area after which they are named.  House of France, House of Iran, House of Palestine (!), House of Germany, House of England, House of Uzbekistan (!), etc.  And twice a year, they have "street fairs," where they put out booths where they sell food, up and down the row where they are located.  Every other weekend of the year, they take turns opening up (about half to a third of them rotate ever month) through volunteer labor to showcase their curiosities, historical artifacts and some small food item(s), which you can pay a voluntary fee for.

Balboa Park also has sooo many museums--flight, sports, natural history, science...all in historical buildings.  Parking is FREE.  The zoo is also located here, if you have the notion.  But you can also simply park, picnic or hike.  Is all good.

Downtown Gaslamp is awesome...Balboa's located nearby.  This area in San Diego is rich in cultural diversity, different shopping areas, an outdoor mall that's all funky because it's multiple buildings put together, and performing arts.  It's got your usual homeless, etc. element, like a "true" downtown...but not to worry.  Popo abound.  So do the bike cabbies.

The Harbor near downtown is cool if only because it's got some great eats, just like downtown, cruises where you can go see some whales, and great atmosphere.  You get a great view of the Coronado Bridge, which leads to Coronado itself.  Home to the Navy as well as this little area full of moneyed buttheads.  It's cute, overpriced, and damn gorgeous.  OH, and it has one of THE most famous haunted hotels in San Diego--"The Hotel Del Coronado" or "Hotel Del" as it's known locally.

San Diego has a lot of local hiking, biking and walking trails.  Our national parks system has not only inland mountain hiking but also trail and beach hiking.  Waterfalls.  Creeks.  Lakes where you can fish.  They're all over.  You are surrounded by nature here.  You can't run from it or hide from it.  You come here, it is your destiny.

Lastly--the arts community.  We got your hippies, we got your Chicanos, we got your Wylands.  You want artsy fartsy--you won't be disappointed.  From street art in Barrio Logan, to Lomas Santa Fe where artists have studios by the beach, to Escondido where the poorer art students hold regular art nights with free wine and artisanal chocolates.

San Diego seems vastly white washed thanks to all the midwestern folks that have transplanted thanks to job opportunities and our all-too-prevalent military complexes.  But in the end, we're pretty diverse.  And damned gorgeous.

***

Maine - RWHN

If you're ever in Maine.

Leave.  

Actually, Portland is alright.  It used to be more fun back when I lived there IMO.  There was this great club called The Skinny.  We'd get a lot of the kinda sorta famous acts who weren't so big that they actually still wrote and played music with some soul to it.  Saw a great performance by Superdrag there.  One of the small rock shows I've been too.  We had the Sheila Divine too which some of you Mass-types might be familiar with.  Anyway, that is a ghost of the past now.  As was the Free Street Taverna.

We do have a couple of Irish-styled pubs.  Ri Ra and Brian Boru.  Both have good fare and good music if you're into folk and Celtic music.  Can be a little pricey.  Next to Ri Ra is the ferry that can take you to some of the small islands off the Portland coast.  Mind the locals, especially native Mainers.  Don't always take too well to out-of-staters.  

If you're more into the nature/outdoors scene, you can't really go wrong with Maine.  tons of places for hiking and camping.  There is a great hiking trail in Cutler, Maine which is in far east Maine.  One of the trails ends with some pretty spectacular views of the ocean.  That is views atop of high cliffs of jagged rock.  Mind your step.  There's a pretty good folk music scene in that part of Maine as well.  Blue Hill is a hotspot for that sort of thing.  

The places to avoid in Maine at all cost are:  Biddeford, Lewiston/Auburn (where I live coincidentally), Augusta, Calais, Old Orchard Beach (unless you are French-Canadian and then apparently it is a mandatory summer destination) and pretty much the entire county of Piscataquis.  

If you want to go somewhere that is completely devoid of human life, save for the occasional lumberjack, then The Allagash Wilderness is for you.

*****

Mooloolah

Sunshine coast. QLD, Australia. - PlacidDingo

Mooloolah is a piddly little town on the sunshine coast that really isn't all that bad, provided you cab generally entertain yourself. Theres a park wig trees that are good for climbing, a train station that can get you out of there when you go mad and some nice walks. Hunt down the national forest: there's a nice long walk there that will take you through an abandoned train tunnel. There's usually a bit of mildly interesting graffiti on it. Wear shoes; it wasn't all that dangerous to walk through barefoot a few years back, but broken glass pops up now and then. Keep walking long enough and you'll hit Beerwah; but thats a long walk. It's good for bikes too.

Shops round Mooloolah aren't too special but they have what you need. There's a place called the Thunderbird cafe that is periodically renamed but its worth a visit. Good place to get a hungover breakfast and read the paper.

There's b and bs around; I was a local so I never went but it's meant to be worthwhile.

And that's Mooloolah.

******

Nagoya, Japan - PlacidDingo

Everyone shits on Nagoya, which is totally unfair. Tokyo is the big city. Kyoto has beauty. Hiroshima has history. And Nagoya doesn't really fit anywhere nearly into that spectrum so it gets ignored.

Nagoya is a place for music, but only if you look for it. I don't know how you can find it. Personally I learned Japanese and made friends with a guy in a band. Because when you get into that scene, it's wicked awesome. Find yourself some of the smaller crazier clubs and bars and get into it.

There's something to look for called nomihoudai (飲み放題) which is all you can drink. Look for this in Karaoke bars. You want to go in with friends. Start with easier stuff, then move into heavy screamy stuff towards night end.

Ossu is a great market area, great for a wander. Beyond the market area are some weirder areas worth a look. I remember a tattoo shop, which is worth a visit; Japanese tend to be anti tattoo. Except the mafia.

Sakae is your party city. Men garishly dressed in a club may be yakuza. If fingers are missing, dnt. There's lots of clubs, go in and enjoy. Don't get too boisterous and loud, generally. You'll be tolerated, but you'll look like a fucking idiot gaijin. Which you are, but you know. Make an effort. Go to Hub the English pub if you want to get some advice from English speakers.

******

Anchorage, AK - Alty

This place is beautiful.

Unless you've seen it you have no idea. Some seasons can be tougher than others, but each one has its own brutalities and essential rawness. There's something so comforting in the deep inhale of ice-cold air, feels clean and good and pure. And you can feel every piece of your body without even trying. Have you ever noticed how hard it is to feel individual parts of yourself?

Of course, the brutality. Homeless people die here, a lot. You don't really hear much about it because most of them are very, very drunk native alaskans who don't know many people outside their own circles, which are mostly from out in the middle of nowhere. The cops certainly don't care, and most of these Sarah Palin propelling republican assholes just leaching big oils slimy tit (I guess that's me too since I'm registering Red this year) are way, way, way more concerned with whatever is happening on their giant televisions. But fundies and libtards aren't the only ones here. There's an army of stoners and hippie stoners that are way, way, way more concerned with what's on their giant televisions. Every one in Anchorage has a giant television. Doesn't matter if you're in debt to your ears and live in FILTH, you've got a giant television. Something, something warm light, like unto the womb, something distractions from death you own and others and HO MAH GAWD DID YOU SEE THAT SHIT, THAT SHIT WAS HILARIOUS.

Where was I? Oh yeah, people dying. People die here. They get trampled by moose. They get mauled right in the city limits while riding their bikes at 3 am. They get shot. The get beaten over the head with rocks and shoved somewhere in the massive expanse of earth and ice that is easily accessible by road. Or sometimes some moron just leaves the body in the woods for some hunters or kids to find. And sure, it's not all the time or anything. But still, nature will fuck you up..

But from where I'm sitting I can see none of that. In place where WILD things are everywhere is nothing around me that is not stale. This entire town serves. It is one giant strip-mall to feed the hungry, squealing masses who are supports for wheels that grind the rest of the world into dust. Landmarks are stores, shops, confectioneries. Achievements in civilization are opening an Olive Garden, finally getting a Victoria Secret, ooh there's a new target opened up on Southside and OH MAH GAH SUPER WALMART. I know what it feels like to become on these people.

I drove from Seattle back here. When you drive here you drive to the end of the earth. And on the way you will see mountains that are so purple they're nearly black, think Kali, with tops that look like jagged crystal, that completely surround you. And you will see trees that go on forever and ever. Fields of seemingly nothing will do the same as well, but the vastness of those forests are overwhelming. When you first arrive all you can think about are those trees and how you're in the middle of them, they're everywhere. You go to the grocery store, the bank, your apartment, but all the while you are surrounded by raw, wild forests peppered with people.

After a while, though, the trees and the mountains fade. Something else takes their place. Can you imagine? Massive, raw, unrelenting and unmerciful WILD cast aside to make room in your head for THEM. They worm their way inside your head. Spiders, yeah. Black Flies, them too. Creeping bags of plastic slugs ready to seal you up and keep you warm. Even if they don't get in you're so busy fighting them off that you forget about the trees. Not that they offer anything special beyond their massive presence. But how can something so huge work its way out of your mind? How can you forget that you're just a cold little monkey using your awesome brain to beat back nature far enough so you can actually enjoy it instead of ending up dead.

If you're looking down from on high this town spreads like an oil slick across a soggy marsh sitting on an open lip of ocean. The funny part is underneath most of this mess is clay. Lots and lots of clay. You can probably imagine what happens to clay in an earthquake. Maybe if you visit at the right time you won't have to.

Notable places to get hammered:

The Spenard Roadhouse
The Bear Tooth Grill
*These two also have good food, if you're into that kind of thing..*

Bernies Bungalow.

Aaaand I hate all the other places, more or less.

   I'm looking forward to more travelogues, sir.

Karaoke is always an exercise in sadomasochism. My band and I do it. I'm always drunk when I go up, so I end up mucking it up. My keyboardist always does a fantastic job. gf/bassist manages to rule the disco tunes. And there is always that one lady, the same lady, who over and over again does a horrible rendition of "Lola". She's really nice. But my god. Nevermind the ever present but interchangeable college girls (and there's always three of them) doing "Don't Stop Believing".


Why do I keep going back, other than to bring the joy of Megadeth, Danzig, Judas Priest and Johnny motherfucking Cash?

Speaking of Danzig, this popped into my head.

(to Ghoul's Night Out)

This is Suu's Night Out,
suffer unto me,
Rog and Richter men-at-arms,
Suu's in hellish form.
This is Suu's Night Out,
Suu has gone to hell
"WHAT THE HELL," she yelled out
"I'M PROFESSIONAL"
Suu's, Suu's, Suu's night out
Suu's, Suu's, Suu's night out
etc.