A girl who was at whiskey thieves with a friend, comes up to me & it goes like this:
girl: i know you are gay but...
me: excuse me?
girl: i know you are gay, but I think you are really interesting & i rarely see people that interest me & want you to come & sit with my friend & I. (pause, i stare at the cubs game) listen, i am NOT hitting on you, cause i know u are GAY.
cesar: damn, she said you was GAY!
me: listen, i'm not gay so you know.
girl: you are not? well, the way you are dressed, you're doing a shitty job of being straight!
me: perhaps I shd look like I haven't taken a shower for a week like every other motherfucker in this city, would that be better? only in fucking san francisco would i be called fucking gay for wearing a three piece suit.
girl: where are you from then?
girl: [in british accent] then why are you speaking with a british accent.
me: i'm not
girl: [in british accent] yes you are DAH-LING
me: what are you talking about? Listen to how i talk, i have a chicago accent at times. I AM NOT FROM ENGLAND.
girl: then stop talking with a british accent.
me: oh my fucking god.
girl: there is nothing wrong with being gay.
me: i know there is nothing wrong with being gay [laughing]
girl: don't look over my shoulder while you are talking to me!
me: excuse me?
girl: you have a terrible mother?
me: excuse me (leaning in)
girl: your mother shd have taught you manners! Never look over a woman's shoulder when she is talking to you!
me: excuse me? well, you shouldn't go up to a guy, hit on him, & you WERE attempting to hit on me, and then accuse him of shit within the first few minutes of the conversation.
girl: i wasnt accusing you.
me: you accused me of being gay & having no manners.
girl: you don't have manners.
me: listen, i got plenty of manners, for the right person.
girl: well you arent showing them
me: i know. what i am showing you is my disinterest in you.
girl: oh (still standing there & staring at me)
cesar: listen, just leave him alone. go drink your drink over there, alright?
girl: why are you trying to get into my buisness?
cesar: because if someone doesn't want to talk to you you should leave them alone.
girl: dont talk to me like that.
cesar: i can talk to you like that, because he is a regular & he obviously doesnt want to talk to you.
girl, looks at me
me: (smirking, with my hands up, nodding my head) I just came here to watch the game.
girl: i just thought you were really interesting.
me: staring at game
15 minutes later, girl is leaving bar. comes up to me
girl: i just wanted to say i am sorry for trying to talk to you. i just thought you were interesting & handsome.
me: we've already went through this.
girl: but that was then.
me: that WAS then
girl: what about now?
me: what about now?
girl: can we try to talk again
me: [laughing] no.
me: listen, you're crazy. please, just go.
10 minutes later, i go to call orth. i go outside. girl is still standing outside.
girl: can we PLEASE try this again?
me: if i say no AGAIN, are you going to wait till i leave the bar & rape me in an alley?
me to girl: listen, no offense, but you're fucking creepy
-i saw J-rock who i haven't seen in 8 years and who probably goes by Jason now
-i saw Jamar who i haven't seen since the last AAC party (like 2000)
- i sas Yasmine who i haven't seen since her and Jon (AAC) had a kid and got married (like 2001)...and now they're divorcing
-hung out with this guy Cedric who was buying me drinks and stuff and swore we've hung out before but kept calling me James so i figured he meant my brother but i played along
-i heard Galen play one of the nastiest sets i've heard in a long time and i got sweaty dancing with Ozan and Spiro and Louisa and Dim and Miss Watkins and Miss Watkins's sister who i think was named Wendy
-i saw Doulin who i haven't seen since 98' and he's still Doulin
-on the way home talked to the cab driver about The Office
this weekend i
-had a blast at the We Are Valo premire at D-Structure
-spent too much money getting into Pink and then on drinks but it was worth it for my cousin's birthday
-watched The Office Season 2 twice in a row on Sunday
things i'd like to do today
-go play capture the flag with Watkins and gang in Golden Gate Park (a bit ironically)
-go to Amoeba to sell The Office Season 1 and 2 and Sarah Silverman's Jesus Is Magic
-work on poems
-go to LRSN's guerilla BBQ in Oakland (but i probably won't)
-have mimosa's with Jessica at Alamo Square
-see Stan Apps read at Moe's (but i probably won't)
-throw the ball around with Armand or Logan or both
Wig is a low-budget magazine devoted to writing and art composed on the job. Not necessarily "about" work, the wig-artist employs labor for poetic ends that implicitly critique — through the action of poaching company time &/or materials — the productivist logic of what Hannah Arendt calls the "laboring society." The title of the magazine alludes to Michel de Certau's discussion of "la perruque" in The Practice of Everyday Life (1974):
La perruque is the worker's own work disguised as work for his employers. It differs from pilfering in that nothing of material value is stolen. It differs from absenteeism in that the worker is officially on the job. La perruque may be as simple a matter as a secretary's writing a love letter on 'company time' or as complex as a cabinet maker's 'borrowing' a lathe to make a piece of furniture for his living room. Under different names in different countries this phenomenon is becoming more and more general, even if managers penalize it or 'turn a blind eye' on it in order not to know about it. Accused of stealing or turning material to his own ends and using the machines for his own profit, the worker who indulges in la perruque actually diverts time (not goods, since he uses only scraps) from the factory for work that is free, creative, and precisely not directed toward profit.
“It’s time to gather rest under duress.” Music and its family of allied arts reigns high in the world Logan Ryan Smith has carved for his Singers. Dance and ritual act as counterforces to the martial law the poem has been written under, in this time of Iraq incursion that touches every aspect of our lives. Smith sends out these poems like bulletins to his heroes, his confreres, his girlfriends, his dead; in the serial form pioneered by Jack Spicer, John Ashbery, Robin Blaser, and Larry Kearney, the tropes rumble like card tricks—Spicer’s forests, diamonds, Giants and knights advance and retreat across a musical chessboard. If there was no one else writing poetry in all of the Bay Area, we would still be “covered”; with Logan Ryan Smith at bat we’ll see angels in the outfield. —Kevin Killian
tomorrow night at Pink. it's my cousin's birthday so there's going to be hella cute girls to share drinks with (shut up, i'm single and lonely). 11pm. and if you want to join my brother and i for the We Are Valo world premire please do, it's at D-Structure 9pm.
this lady was having so much fun spraying everybody as "Louie Louie" was blaring from someplace, but it was loud loud loud, and everybody sort of stopped and started dancing and then it was a lot like Ferris Bueller's Day Off with the song and everybody in the crowd going "ahhhhhhh, ahhhhhhhhh, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh, AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" and then cheering...
a naked man that so far has gotten 67 views on my flickr.
an American Apperal doppelwhat?!
this is pretty much right in front of my apartment on Hayes at Pierce
bottle upon bottle upon bottle of champagne at 9am...lot's of great costumes and great music from ghetto blasters and drinks and ass and marching around with shopping carts converted to kegs-on-wheels and boobs and shotgunning beers and making out and exposed penises and barley wine and water-play and the sun was hot and it was all very Roman on a Sunday afternoon.
...and if you thought that *guys* had boners for those American Apperal ads check the female population of the Bay Area...thousands of young women dressed like the American Apperal models, e.g. short short 70's gym shorts, tube socks pulled knee high, sneakers, hair pulled back...i mean, it was a total cliche, but a beautiful cliche that never got old, this was a good day.
97% of the girls in attendance looked like this
(flickr photos from B2B and the Greek Festival coming later today)
last night i mangled, MANGLED my right thumb on a cheese grater...
like, that moment when you maim yourself and suddenly your skin is totally meat, nothing more, just gross damaged meat...like, when you can suddenly see bone under a white slab of flesh out of nowhere...it's a weird sensation...blood gushing, chicken-flesh flapping and then you think, i may as well have taken a raw steak and grinded it as hard as i could into a brand new sharp cheese grater...that's what my finger looks like right now.
i spotted a dude on the bus this morning who looked down at my finger and then nodded his head as if to say "yeah, that dood got fucked up..."
Beaning Reggie Jackson in the face in apparent retaliation for Reggie's monstrous home run off Ellis in the 1971 All-Star game in Detroit. No-hitting the San Diego Padres on June 12, 1970 despite being, as he would claim in 1984, under the influence of LSD throughout the course of the game. Ellis has claimed that the ball actually talked to him during the hallucination, advising him which pitches to throw. Curiously, if his name is presented in roll call style, it reads "Ellis, D." (LSD). Attempting to hit every batter in the Cincinnati Reds lineup on May 1, 1974. In an effort to prove a point to teammates, Ellis hit Pete Rose, Joe Morgan, and Dan Driessen in the top of the first. The clean-up batter Tony Perez avoided Ellis' attempts, instead drawing a walk, and after two pitches aimed at the head of Johnny Bench, Ellis was removed from the game by manager Danny Murtaugh. Ellis' box score for the game reads: 0 IP, 0 H, 1 R, 1 ER, 1 BB, 0 K. On May 5 1972, Dock Ellis engaged in an argument with a security guard who barred him from entering through the players' gate at Cincinnati's Riverfront Stadium and then maced him. The guard maintained that Ellis had failed to adequately identify himself, "made threatening gestures with a clenched fist," and was carrying a half-empty bottle of wine. Ellis denied that he had intended to punch the guard or was holding a bottle of wine and claimed he was denied entrance (and maced) despite showing his World Series ring as proof of identity.
last night i had a dream that i was writing songs, and they were very good, and i was singing the songs as i was writing them, and my voice was very good, and i began to get ahead of myself with the singing so i stopped the writing and continued singing and then it was so good i started making one-word notes for reference and continued singing.
I did get out amongst those bare branches and crisp air to throw the baseball around with Jared Hayes and John Sakkis.
Later, despite my poverty and after having played too much Yoshi Island I went to the Catacombs for their fantastic happy hour specials ($1 beers!). Here's some notes:
1. Having a good conversation with Sakkis regarding translation and the developing of a (my) critical voice. 2. John constantly remarking on how hot our hot waitress is. (She's hot, by the way). 3. Some dude coming up and being all, "Hey, do you got a cell phone I can borrow?" And John saying "no," me saying "no," then John informing the guy that there's a payphone outside. Then the guy saying something like, "You think if I had the money for a payphone I'd be asking for a cell phone?" And then a confrontation ensuing where the gentlemen informed both of us that he's "from here." Because, well, you know, BOULDER is a tough place and that kind of comment can really instill the fear in a person. Then the guy said something like (with crooked hat in its proper crooked placement) "You want to take this outside." Then John saying, "Yeah," and standing up towers over the guy who then starts to try to back out before the bouncer comes up and kicks him out. 4. Spending the next hour talking about how stupid that was, amped up on adrenaline. 5. Sabrina Calle and Jeremiah Bowen joining us for drinks. 6. John going home to watch porn. 7. Akilah Oliver and Anne Waldman joining us for a short time. 8. Anne saying "Viva la San Francisco!" to me as she left. 9. Drinking too much. 10. Going to the Downer with Sabre and Miah where they fed my poor soul A LOT of beer. 11. Sabre and Miah getting so drunk that somehow I had each of them going on for about 10 minutes a piece about how gorgeous I am. 12. Coming home, making eggs, then passing out to X-files the Movie.
does Buffy The Vampire Slayer ever get good? that is, does it live up to all the hype of being TV Guides 41st Greatest Show Of All Time?
i ask because i'm currently on Season 2, a little more than half way through, and it still sucks...granted, an inch better than Season 1, but only an inch...
should i just delete the rest of the discs from my queue...i really wanted to like this show (as i'm a fan of campy horror (i'm the proud owner of that 50 Horror Movies For $25 collection you see advertised on late night TV))...but so far i can't understand how anyone could pay attention for 7 seasons, it's kind of the worst, and nothing ever happens, i mean, how many times can Gilles say "well, the city WAS built on a Hell Mouth" to conveniently explain away some incongruent plot point?...
somehow my friend Jonathan is sharing a myspace profile with some kid who goes by Izzy The Kid...Jonathan messaged me this morning with something like "hey, where you been, trying to get ahold of you, you're not answering your phone"...to which i replied this morning "hey sorry, not used to the early morning rise yet, i'll call you later, let's have drinks this weekend..."
just now, got a messge from Izzy The Kid in response to that message that made my freaking day..."um.. i don't know you .. and i'm 16 ... and i love god with all my heart.. i don't drink.. and i don't know how that message got sent to you.. sorry, it wasn't me."
i just replied to Izzy to let her know that she's sharing a myspace profile with my 27 year old friend Jon...
hey, tonight, at the wc creamery (2519 san pablo ave--OAKLAND, CA---home of the Maverick-beating Warriors). may 4th, there will be this event, probably starting around 10PM-- you can wait until after your favorite TV shows like THE ODD COUPLE & LOVE AMERICAN STYLE--
oh wait, i forgot it's not 1970 and the event is not the KENT STATE MASSACRE and I really hope and pray that none of the DJS or even a band called (NOT Crosby stills nash & Young & Natural & gifted and black will perform "4 DEAD in SOHIO") and drink ourselves into some retro fantasy of BUBONIC teeth I mean PLAQUE because, there will be ORIGINALS and yea, verily, e'ev beautiful SINNERS and broken shakespeares and the sort of dogs that can hear all kinds of sounds that no hunan ears can ever hear (however human hands and hearts may forge).....
There will be paintings, and maybe even deaf people. There will be pantings, and artificial lights, and maybe even sleepwalkers There will be pillows, and candles, and schmooze-booze. If this DOESN't sound like you, please let me know--- Because I'm gonna try to be there in soul as well as body, and EXHALE as much as we INHALE that is to say "You can watch me watching you perform" ---if you want to join in on the SIDESHOW that promises nothing, and therefore can't help but be ORIGINAL. And then afterwards, we could severely thank each other (to the point of tears), and know it's love to say "you incomplete me"------so be HERE or be SPHERE SEEYA LATER?
okay, i've been listening to Devendra Barnhart's Cripple Crow pretty exclusively all week, needless to say i love the album, like, listen-to-the-record-all-the-way-through-then-begin-all-over-again love...but what the fuck is up with all the pederasty stuff...and it's tricky, you don't really even notice what the hell Devendra is singing about until like the third listen...and then you're like, huh?...
Little Boys In the shower I get my breathing done I hold my breath and I wait for the day to come Oh little Billy, little Timmy, little Jimmy You're the one I may not look it, but I swear my heart is young For so many Little boys I want to marry I see plenty of little boys i want to marry I see plenty little kids i've yet to have
I Feel Like a Child From my womb to my tomb I guess I'll always be a child Yeah some people try and treat me like a man Well I guess they just don't understand I'm a little child
and then the song about having Chinese Children...
eck...but the album is so amazing...i don't know what to think.
"now, 1/3" and thepoem (BlazeVOX Books) Chinese Notebook (Ugly Duckling Presse)
Maribor (The Post-Apollo Press)
Rude Girl (BlazeVOX Books)
Rave On! (Lew Gallery)
Gary Gygax (Cy Gist Press)
Rude Girl (Duration Press)
The Moveable Ones (Transmission Press)
Benthos (Silas Press). Lives in Oakland. Works for Small Press Distribution.