Saturday, June 23, 2007

Fucking HELL YES, Florida.

I never get over how great this place is. Sure, it is also so unbelievably stupid (Example: The amazing Tiki Gardens pictured to the left were DESTROYED for a municipal parking lot) that words cannot describe, but once you ease into this place and begin discovering it, it reminds me why all those crazed Conquistadores came over here bearing Catholicism and herpes wave after wave back in the 16th century.

Just today: Woke up, threw open the blinds to the rain-covered tropical regalia that is our front and back yard. Made coffee and listened to the radio. Rode the scooter up to the Bay and ate a Spanish breakfast outdoors with wind cooling us off. Rode the scooter along the bay and looked at all the sailboats. Rode home through the alley behind our street in Old Northeast and BRAKKKKKKKE! A guy is selling a massive record collection in the fucking alley. And he is the owner of one of the better used record (vinyl) stores still existing (Bananas). Score incredible shit, including two original John Fahey LPs on Takoma and an original copy of Tago Mago.

Go home and do the responsible thing by bringing our recycling to the drop off (somehow forcing this--rather than the ease of curbside--gets me thinking about what else I can do). Go to Target and spend too much money (this occurs wherever you happen to live). Go home and relax. Ride up to some place I've just seen and was curious about as it looked promising for a myriad beer selection. Was absolutely right in this assumption: Bought a 6-pack of Bell's Two-Hearted Ale, something even Portland never had (had to be something they never had, had to be)...then discovered after arriving home that I actually love John Fahey and I would never sell these records after listening to them.

What happens when you get happy again? You like even the most minute aspects of the day again. You enjoy the world and what it has to offer. So, here's a nice drink to you, Florida, thank you very are a lovely place.

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

So, Kels, does this girl you are screwing live in ATLANTA?

One more and it is time for bed. Wow.

Ah. The Return of THE MOOCH.

Jeffrey Jensen is really neccessary and I am being the furthest from sarcastic.

Friday, June 15, 2007

Book Blurb!

Indiana Gothic. Yeah, me too. Indiana is just not "Gothic" even when it has such juicy scandal as went down in this book. Key words: Farmland, old timey courtship, box socials, frigid wives, farming, land for miles and miles, weird country people, lusty men, prostitutes we barely hear a thing about damnit, slutty bored housewives, conniving sisters, sly sex on the side, adultery, sly sex on hay, made up visions of bad sex on hay, hallucinations and illicit babies. Oh yeah, murder, dust and small town politcos too. You think with all this (and trust me, there are about 20 more delicious keywords I didn't even mention!) you'd have a facinating summer read. Well, no. If this had been written by a woman it would have been more worth my time. What is it about men and their LAME sex tales. C'mon guys, you're the ones who supposedly love sex so much!

Thursday, June 7, 2007

It was you all along, Lil Mama.

I love love love love a teenage gimmick rap video!!!

Tuesday, June 5, 2007

New Header Image.

Patsy Colleen Desmond et Kristin Irène Young, Evergreen Street off Damen Ave, Chicago, August 1994. Thanks to Geoffrey Ellis.

Love and miss you, Pats.

Saturday, June 2, 2007

Best Believe.

This will be better than the Court TV snorefest.
(You can click on the above. Gotta explore why that grey is being used.)

Friday, June 1, 2007

Summer 2007 Reading List Mach I

1. Dolores--Jacqueline Susaan, 1976. So far I will describe this book as a bizarre, very-thinly-veiled retake on the story of another, not-as-fabulous "Jacqueline"...Kennedy-Onassis. Not trashy enough...yet. My copy (the Bantam pb pictured above has a great illustration of the author on the back cover, though).

2. Smoked: A True Story About the Kids Next Door--Lèon Bing, 1993. So promising, so bland. Could have been better, I am more than positive, if Ms. Bing didn't approach the subject like a hip grandmother. Still, I can't put it down.

3. Collected Writings--Frank Norris, 1928. Norris is firmly in my top three favorite authors of all fucking time list. His not-as-famous brother, Charles, collected stories for this after Frank's death and somehow my local library still has a first edition in fairly good shape. The problem is, much like many other authors I enjoy from this era, they were greatly influenced by Medieval literature. My mother got a master's in Medieval Lit and this perplexes me more than her unbiding love for Tab. Half of this book will suck, the other half has promise.

4. Indiana Gothic: A Story of Adultery and Murder in an American Family--Pope Brock, 1999. Now we're talking!!! That title basically is as promising as a bottle of Vicodin and a week's paid vacation. Let's hope "Pope" can pull it together.

Feel free to give me more suggestions!