Trolling For Tinfoil
Sunday, July 31, 2005
Nothin' .. I got nuthin.
I have almost nothing to blog about today.

Soo, I will post random pictures from my collection, held in readiness for just such an occasion.

:WARNING: They have nothing to do with anything.

This is the closest this guy has ever gotten to having sex. Or proabably ever will.

Cats and captions.. What could be better?

The above is handy for arguing with 20-something english majors.

Ever have those days where you think to yourself- "My job sucks.."? It could always be worse.

Considering that I am a professional geek, I am somewhat dismayed to discover that a newly purchased wireless keyboard causes a hardware conflict somewhere, and I'm too disgusted to pursue it any further.

I dick around with this stuff for 8 hours a day, so the last thing I want to do on my weekends is boot/reboot endlessly here in my house.

This was all part of my "go out and buy stuff" fit I had today.
You see, up until now I had a crappy keyboard that had the props broken off and a really cheapo office chair that I bought two years ago for like ten dollars. It's hard to type and be creative sitting on the equivalent of a crate. That had to be the least ergonomic piece of furniture ever designed. It was supposed to be a "student chair" and if so, that would explain the dropout rate in college these days.

Sooo.. Here I sit, kicked back in a leather chair that reclines alittle, with my keyboard firmly esconced in my lap, albeit with a cord tangled around my feet. The Mouse is nifty though.

We payed a gig at Bass Pro Shops today outdoors in the heat- Our guitarist made the wry observation that "You couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting a redneck". That place is like nirvana for hunter/fishie/outdoorsy types.

This post is really going nowhere fast, isn't it?

I asked a woman out while I was tearing down- She was drop-dead gorgeous and totally out of my league, which is why I don't mind getting shot down in flames. I will ask again, and she'll probably say no, and I'll keep asking up to the point where it gets creepy. I am a very patient man.
It really has nothing to do with me being enamored or star-struck.. It's more like a challenge at this point. A pretty harmless one, provided I remember that it's all in fun, and has to remain so.

I look at it this way- I'm not hurting myself any by being single. The worst I'll get is carpal tunnel.

Wednesday, July 27, 2005
Of music and blogging.

Violent Femmes…

Lemme go OOOUUUT like a blister in the Su-Un..

I love to revisit the 80’s from time to time.

That really has no bearing on anything except me playing a little music while I blog.

Tainted Lo-Oove … Don’t TOUUCH me PLEEZE, I cannot stand the way you..TEEZE

I’d be doing the “Carlton Dance” from “Fresh Prince of Bel-Air” if I wasn’t typing. (Okay- pecking and backspacing a lot would be a more accurate description.)

The heat finally broke, with the promised cold front shepherding in a flock of pastel clouds just in time for sunset.

All I could think of (besides “wow”) was- Very “Velvet Elvis”.

In my warped little mind, the only thing missing was the ghost ship across the moon and the King taking a dump on the throne, backstopped by vague images of wolves howling at some forlorn memory of the biker who cut a few lines, chased it with a fifth of Jack, and rode off in the dark never to be seen again.

Not to poke fun of Mother Nature- who does marvelous work in my opinion- but rather, those cheesy tee-shirts seen at NASCAR races and roadside stands.

When I was a kid, the roadside stands would sell these paintings done on black velvet that were- to say the least- abhorrent to the eye, unless you had just done a lot of acid. At that point, I’m sure that and a blacklight kept you inside for a week.

Mostly, all I really remember about the seventies was the onset of puberty, avocado green shag carpet and burnt orange appliances. As a result, the very sight of shag carpet produces a spontaneous erection, and I begin to fear that I’ll be called up to the blackboard to my everlasting chagrin, while the girl with the Dorothy Hamil haircut points and laughs.

I spent my formative years in the Florida Panhandle.. There are MUCH worse places to go through puberty. No wonder they couldn’t get me to stay away from the beach.

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

I’ve started out the last two posts with “I’m not really feeling..” so, in a fit of creativity I decided not to start this one out by “telling you how I’m feeling”. (Right now, I’m feeling full. The Foreman Grill is a bachelor’s best friend, bar none. Well, that and internet boobies.)

So much for creativity.

Lately, I haven’t even wanted to get drawn into any flamewars on Fark. It’s tiring arguing with someone who has passion, but no perspective on life. If your epic struggles in life add up to getting student loans and scoring a dime bag, come back and talk to me when you’ve actually done something in life. Parroting your English professor doesn’t count.

Fark discussions are where most of my outrage towards the left comes from anyway. I didn’t watch or listen to any of Live8- could care less, really. Multi-millionaires singing about poverty and injustice to a horde of infatuated dreamers is a little too ironic, if you ask me. They’ve stopped fondling themselves over the thought of indicting Karl Rove, so they’re back to calling Bush a chimp, and everything in Iraq is a quagmire.


I'm not really feeling spunky today. Sleepy doesn't quite cover it, but I've already had too much coffee as it is. It's 90 plus degrees out, and I'm running from building to building- The concrete reflects all the sun and humidity back up at you.
In my mind, it's like scurrying across aluminum foil to make it to an oasis of AC.

For the first time, I'm glad my office is in the sub-basement, 40 feet below street level. If we get nuked, expect to hear from me shortly thereafter.

Sunday, July 24, 2005
Sunday confessions.
I'm not really feeling too "blogesque" or "bloggy" or "bloggerific" today for whatever reason. Maybe it's because I'm feeling guilty.
You see, I've been cheating on my Little Troll.

I was pursued.
I mean, it's not like I wanted to. The band website sucked (and still does) but noone else in the band has the time or the technical ability to do more than add silly random animated .gif's. I didn't really put my heart into it, and it's just a crappy geocities website.
I coudn't have the world's most mediocre band advertising itself with eye-bleed-inducing graphics and hopelessy pathetic text, could I? I mean the guy who built it left it unattended.

I didn't enjoy, it, but it had to be done.
It's still a piece of crap. I still need to go back and change the main picture, (It's waaaayy outdated) and the bios are of people who aren't in the band anymore. I mean- How can I leave it like that?


I promise to do better. After I get updated bios from everyone.

Thursday, July 21, 2005
Tall dark and dorky..

This is perhaps the best stage I've played on in years. The lights are a good sixty feet over our heads, the sound was huge, and... There were about 3 dozen people in a 10,000 seat arena.

All this pomp was for a bike show- Problem is, bikers can't ride safely in torrential downpours.

Best damn practice we ever had.


It wasn't all bad.

Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Tag, I'm it.
My friend Sougata has tagged me- My list is pretty paltry compared to his, but he seems to have one of those super-minds that absorb and inquire about everything.

Here goes.

Total books I own: I used to own a ton- As in a whole wall full. My Mom still has a lot of them downstairs in my old room, and I like to go back and re-raid the shelves from time to time. In my apartment, I have about twenty.
Last book I bought: In the Company of Soldiers by Rick Atkinson. Pretty good writer, highly analytical but without all the standard literary-Armies-are-Evil snobbery.
Last book I read: Trying to finish a Biography of George C. Marshall. That man has probably influenced more aspects of the twentieth century than every president he served under, a selfless overachiever and respected by those he worked for and with to the point of worship.

Books that mean a lot to me: To date there has never been a book that “changed the way I think about things”. There are those that I’m fond of, either because I read them at a particularly pleasant time in life, or because certain passages or characters stuck in my mind.

Anything by John D. MacDonald. When I was a teenager, I wanted to be Travis McGee.

Little Men/ Little Women Louisa May Alcott. Classic for a reason.

D-Day Stephen Ambrose. He makes History accessible, and it really gave a human sense of perspective to the massive tragedy and triumph that was D-Day.

Cold Sassy Tree Olive Ann Burns. Her first book and her best. She died of cancer before completing the second, and it will break your heart.

Lolita Victor Nabokov. Considering that English was more of a hobby or one of many languages he spoke, the man was an artist with words and sentence structure.

A Game of Thrones George R.R. Martin. No talent fade in this Fantasy series yet, unlike Jordan or Eddings. People die that wouldn’t in other series, and the most unlikable characters have human moments. Try it- You’ll like it.

I’ve read most of the classics, and they were good, but most didn’t move me deeply. I liked David Copperfield, A tale of Two Cities, Moby Dick, and Catch-22. That’s it. I liked them.

Sue me.

Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Posting for posting's sake.
Hiya Kids..

It's Monday evening, the AC is cranked and I am home, peacefull in my little sanctuary.
I Just got thru with a quick fill-in gig in 90 degree heat and suffocating humidity, trying desperately to look suave as I peer myopically at charts, sweating in all sorts of unnatural places.

I no likey the charts.
I like to follow the changes by ear, instead of keeping my head in the measure by measure structure that charts create. It tends to suck the life out of the music, making it sound forced and without feeling.
Eh. We got paid and managed to sound like we knew one end of the instrument from the other.

In other news, Mom has dropped off the planet, or at least her blog has.. I think I know why, but I'll let her 'splain if she feels like it.

The political scene has been pretty amusing as of late- I swear, the left was furiously masturbating over the thought of Karl "The Anti-Christ" Rove getting Fired/Indicted/ burned at the stake.
Just when things almost reached... Well- You know- Alas, it was not to be.. Rovus Interruptus.
They are reeeeeeally frustrated now.
This makes me happy. Delerious, even.

Wednesday, July 13, 2005
Everything sounds hot in Italian

I have discovered that everything sounds sexy in Italian. Furthermore, thanks to the wonderful tool known as Babelfish, it sounds hot even if you’re talking about something as inane as driving.


Exhibit A: “I will drive in slow, deliberate circles until we are lost and too tired to continue."

English to Italian comes out like this: Guiderò nei cerchi lenti e intenzionali fino a perderli noi e troppo stanco continuerò.
Very sexy, no?

Now- Back to English: I will guide in the circles discs of a valve and intentional until losing them we and too much tired I will continue..

That's a little confusing, but you'd be hard pressed to guess I was talking about driving.

Now, here’s where it gets fun-

Send somebody something really suggestive translated into Italian, make them translate it back.

Like this: Desidero baciarlo lentamente ed appassionato, undress voi e faccio l'amore voi.

I'm blushing...

Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Expressing my outrage... Patriotic, Aren't I?

It’s been a while since I’ve pulled my head out long enough to look around the blogosphere, and having done so- I see nothing has changed. There were some snotty discussions on Fark, where the twenty-something basement dwellers come out to play, and it seems that they have something new against those yellow ribbons. They claim it’s “mindless jingoism”.

Jingoism? Kiss my ass.

Okay, kids.. I’ll spell it out for you.

If I want to put a yellow ribbon on my car, it’s because I want the soldiers to know that people here support their sacrifice, sympathize with their families and honor their loved ones who have died doing what soldiers do. This isn’t “mindless jingoism”. You’re just pissed that you can’t get any traction.

Let me put it to you in terms you can understand, dude…

We’re “adding our voice”. We’re “expressing our views”. “Showing solidarity” for those who are underappreciated.
We’re doing it without shiny, pretty rock stars, nifty signs, marches, and a screeching sense of outrage. We don’t feel the need to be hipper than thou, clever, sarcastic, too jaded for our own good.

We do it because we want the soldiers to know that this time- Some stoned, smartass poli-sci major isn’t going to spit on you or call you a baby killer when you get back.

Iv’e heard terms like “Operation Yellow Elephant”. Because supposedly, mindless jingoism is just empty lip service, and better than doing actually something.
So, if by that logic, I am supposed to shut up if I don’t join the military? Bullshit.
I’m doing the same thing you are- Why is your “dissent” so much more patriotic than my “expression of support”?

When you understand that you have no more right to the truth than I do, no more freedoms, and certainly no less- You cannot ridicule, shout down or silence me because you know that this time- You might lose.
In spite of all your very amusing little echo chambers that you’ve created for yourselves aren’t reaching much beyond your permanently outraged and entitled base.

Sunday, July 10, 2005
Sunday AAR

It’s been a hectic few days..

Londoners, for all their politeness, are a hard-boiled lot. When it’s all said and done, I think the jihadists will be very sorry they chose London. It’s been through a hell of a lot more than that, and withstood it with amazing resilience. Just wait until their military gets pissed- Those boys do not fu** around.. I don’t even want to know what the left is saying, probably because I’m pretty sure what the current tune is. Screw ‘em.

I just got finished playing the local Holiday Inn for four days, but fortunately the ex made only a token “look at me, I’m going out” appearance. We played well, the crowds were good, so all’s well.

I actually went on a sorta-date today. I asked a friend from work to see the local Titanic Exhibit. The exhibit? It was OK. Not bad, not too morbid, but after 9-11, the tragedy is a little diminished.

We had a good time, I dropped her off with little fanfare, and drove away. It wasn’t really supposed to be a date anyway- I wanted someone reasonable intelligent to do things with, and she’s very bright and normal. These are good qualities, and I’m horribly out of practice when it comes to dates as it is- So.. Success.

Mom has ordered it so..
Wow- I've uber-Tagged by Mom. It took a while, but I did my Homework..

(This sucker seems to highlight all the unfortunate lapses in judgement I've had over the years. )

(X) smoked a cigarette (Yes.. I’m a smoker. Bite me- It’s the only vice I have left...)
(X) smoked a cigar
(X) smoked anything else (Was never that fond of it.)
() made out with a member of the same sex
( ) crashed a friend's car
(X) been in love
(X) been dumped
(X) shoplifted (Um.. Yes. Once when I was little and a couple of times in my teens.)
(X ) been fired (Ohhh, Yeah. A few times. Remember I used to drink a lot? ‘Nuff said.)
(X ) been in a fist fight (Yep- Had to have my nose rebuilt by specialist from Johns Hopkins. The guy was 6ft 8 and 290lbs. I shoulda picked a smaller guy- I was doing pretty good until he landed one. I repeat- One.)
(X ) snuck out of parent's house (Jeez- I’d put some of these questions on my resume’..)
(X) had feelings for someone who didn't have them back. (Yep)
(X) been arrested. (Ahem.. see aforementioned difficulties with drink..)
(X) made out with a stranger ( On stage even.. while playing.)
() gone on a blind date
(X) lied to a friend. (Yes.. I was sleeping with his ex-girlfriend)
() had a crush on a teacher
(X) skipped school
(X) slept with a co-worker ( More than once)
(X) saw someone die (In High school some one robbed the drug store next door. The security guard chased him right past me, I joined in, the robber turned and fired- At the security guard.)
(X) been to Canada (Toured there- Great place- Love Calgary)
() been to Mexico
(X) been on a plane
(X) thrown up in a bar (On stage)
() eaten Sushi
( ) been snowboarding
() been moshing at a concert
(X) been in an abusive relationship (Yep- Just got through being a doormat. I wouldn’t call it abusive so much as delusional and self-destructive)
(X) taken painkillers
(X) love someone right now ( My daughter, my family.)
(X) laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by
(X) made a snow angel
() had a tea party
(X) flown a kite
(X) built a sand castle
(X ) gone puddle jumping (Came home covered in mud when my Mom made the mistake of telling me I could get wet)
(X) played dress up (Apparently my sisters used to use my helpless infant body as a life size dollie.)
(X) jumped into a pile of leaves
(X) gone sledding
() cheated while playing a game
(X) been lonely
(X fallen asleep at work/school (I used to work after gigs the next day.. More than a few times..)

() used a fake ID
(X) watched the sunset
(X) felt an earthquake (Apparently I slept through it..)
(X) touched a snake
(X) been tickled (Mercilessly.. My sisters are evil)
(X) been robbed (Had a bass stolen right off the stage when I was loading out..)
( ) robbed someone
(X) been misunderstood (who hasn't?)
(X) pet a reindeer/goat (Goat. Our drummer used to have one- Nasty un-neutered bastard though we were all potential suitors. )
(X) won a contest
(X ) been suspended from school (Smoking)
(X) had detention (Hell, I lived there)
(X ) been in a car accident
() had braces
() eaten a whole pint of ice cream in one night
(X) had deja vu
() danced in the moonlight
(X) hated the way you look ( Not often- But my hair is thick and straight- A bad haircut is a regular occurance)
( X) witnessed a crime
() pole danced
(X) questioned your heart (Way too often.)
( ) been obsessed with post-it notes
(X) squished barefoot through the mud
(X) been lost
(X) been to the opposite side of the country
(X) swam in the ocean
(X) felt like dying
() cried yourself to sleep
(X) played cops and robbers (As an adult, even.)
()recently colored with crayons/colored pencils/markers
(X) sung karaoke- (I used to host it for a part-time job.. I quit before I lost all self-respect.)
( ) paid for a meal with only coins
(X) done something you told yourself you wouldn't (Many, many things. I have learned to not make promises like that)
(X) made prank phone calls(Still do from time to time.)
(X) laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose
(X) caught a snowflake on your tongue
(X) kissed in the rain
() written a letter to Santa Claus
(X ) been kissed under a mistletoe
(X) watched the sunset with someone you care about
(x) blown bubbles
(X) made a bonfire on the beach
(X) crashed a party
(X) have traveled more than 5 days with a car full of people (Jeez- the stories of being on the road with musicians would curl your hair..)
(X) gone rollerskating
(X) had a wish come true
(X) humped a monkey- ( She may have been.. Baaad case of beer goggles.)
() worn pearls
( ) jumped off a bridge
( ) screamed "penis" in class
() ate dog food
() told a complete stranger you loved them (Still do.. It’s a great pick up line..)
(X) sang in the shower
() have a little black dress
(X) fucked in a park (You betcha.I prefer calling it “getting in tune with nature”..)
(X) fucked in the bathoom
(X) had a dream that you married someone (Fortunately, it was just a dream. )
(X) glued your hand to something. (My guitar- When callouses wear out, you apply super-glue.. But you’re supposed to wait until it dries.)
( ) got your toungue stuck to a pole
( ) kissed a fish
(X) worn the opposite sex's clothes ( The ez was rather diminutive, and I am not- It was funny when I put on her tight half shirt- Briefly. Then it was creepy. )
() been a cheerleader
(X) sat on a roof top
( ) had sex in a church My Mom was a choir director- I sure thought about it a lot when I was a kid. There used to be this one lady…)
(x) screamed at the top of your lungs
() done a one-handed cartwheel (Couldn’t if you paid me.)
(X ) talked on the phone for more than 6 hours
(X) stayed up all night
( ) didn’t take a shower for a week (Boy.. I would REEK.)
( ) pick and ate an apple right off the tree

(X) climbed a tree
(X) had a tree house
(X ) are scared to watch scary movies alone

(X) believe in ghosts
( ) have more then 30 pairs of shoes
(X) worn a really ugly outfit to school
(X) gone streaking
( ) played ding-dong-ditch (WTF? I may have put mine in a ditch once or twice, but I’m a little fuzzy on the details)
(X ) played chicken fight
(X) been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on
(X) been told you're hot by a complete stranger
(X) broken a bone (knock on wood)
(X) been easily amused (Still am)
() caught a fish then ate it
(X ) made porn (I think so.. Long, sordid story.)
(X) caught a butterfly
(X) laughed so hard you cried
( ) cried so hard you laughed
(X) mooned/flashed someone
(X) had someone moon/flash you
( ) cheated on a test
(X) forgotten someone's name (All the time)
(X) slept naked
( ) French braided someones hair (The guitarists when he was passed out.)
(X) gone skinny dippin in a pool
( ) been kicked out of your house
(X)cheated on a girlfriend/boyfriend
(X )had casual sex with a close friend
(X)Had sex with someone and later were ashamed to admit it(Way too often in the old days)
(X)felt crushing defeat
(X)felt thrilling victory
()not had enough money for food

Good lord, that's a lot of questions..

Thursday, July 07, 2005
It's not "terrorism", it's not "jihad" it's indiscriminate murder.

Cold blooded, heartless wanton slaughter.

Gutless fucks.

Sunday, July 03, 2005
Sunday boredom.
Well, I slept waaaay too long today- I went to bed about 4:30am and slept until almost 3 in the afternoon. Getting back on a work schedule is going to suck.

The gig was relatively free of drama. The ex showed up, but our guitarist cornered her and asked her why she felt a need to subject us both to needless drama. She had no real answer, and left shortly thereafter. Yay.

The bar we played used to be the local dive. By that, I mean dive of legendary proportions. Concrete floors, fights every night, nasty toothless drunks and such clinging to the bar for dear life, too drunk to stand.

The Pagans hang there, a leftover from the good old days. Usually they stay to themselves, but they go from normal to vicious pretty quick if you push the right buttons. They're mostly in their 50's by now, in poor health from years of living on nothing but coke, speed, Jack Daniels and bad food. As a consequence, they won't stand and slug it out- They wait for you in the parking lot and go straight to blunt, heavy objects. Usually this happens if someone wears the wrong "colors" and they have a standing feud with said wearers of colors.

I had one of them, probably in his middle 50's- All of 120 lbs, bony, scraggly beard, hard lined face and a hoarse cackly voice tell me "Boy, they saw you coming", implying that my tee shirt- Which says "Chick Magnet" and sports a picture of a skinny ten year old doing the muscleman pose- Was somehow a scam, sold to me as a joke on the unsuspecting. He then had to repeat it three times to everyone, just in case they didn't get it the first time, all the while, cackling a phlegmy smokers laugh. I think everyone else thought it as ironic as I did. I offered to give it to him, if he wanted to be really funny.
He didn't get it.

I didn't have the patience to explain the concept of sarcasm and irony.

Post-gig Post
It's 3:30am my ears are ringing from the gig tonite, but I'm still a little wired.

My brain was working overtime today, and I can't really even tell you what was going through my head. It's like constant white noise, certain mantras or thoughts that I've held on to to keep my ass in line were on auto repeat until I got sick of myself. I tried napping, but damned if my brain doesn't fuck with me in my sleep.

Here's where I stand as of today-

It's still my fault, in the sense that I knew better than to try to get back together with her again.
Why? (I've been trying to swallow some uncomfortable truths about myself as of late..)
Low self-esteem.

Well, genius, now that I've had this little eureka moment, how does one go about "Loving ones self"? I've been looking for the little "I love me!" switch, but I think it's broken. Some very smart people have given me clues- "If you want self-esteem, do esteemable things.."

Okay. Got it.
Feed the homeless, and so on. I help take care of my 94 year old-grandfather, which is humbling, especially since he's to weak to make it to the bathroom at times. Ther's other things that I do- Speak at prisons, halfway houses- Basically, I try not to be an oxygen thief.

Here's the problem. I'm left to my own defenses. I have nothing to distract me from me, no crutches, no one to cater to so that I can feel better.
Dating is out of the question- Not only am I a total hornbag, I have a tendency to take hostages, metaphorically speaking. This falls under the category of finding a new square peg to hammer into a round hole.

I have some things going for me, though..
One- I'm determined.
Two- I'm sick of sick people. Normal will do nicely, and there's no one in sight, thank goodness.
Three- Instead of obsessing over my wrongs done to me and emotional wounds, I am going to find a way to get myself semi-whole.
Face it an embrace it. Warts and all.

Change and growth is painful- and I don't like painful, not one bit.

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