Thursday, December 6, 2012

feel the al gore rhythm of the night...


Blank.

The ideas have stopped. Yep, it’s the time in life that you knew would happen, just hoped it would wait a little bit longer.

It’s happened before, however, so it doesn’t worry you at first. It’ll pass in a day or two.

Or maybe a week or so.

Next month, I’m sure I’ll get back to it.

Wait, it’s been six months?

Damn.

Funny how things work.

You think you’ve got a handle on it all. Then life happens and fucks shit up again.

And again.

And probably again again.

Double words and triple words. I don’t keep score.

I hate playing computer games and I love collecting video games. Even though I haven’t bought a new one in at least five years.

My Lucero poster collection is too big.

I got a Bill Madlock 1987 Fleer autographed card. I really want to finish that set one day. More so than I did my Barry Bonds home run card set. Speaking of, some guy had an auction on ebay, it’s probably still there, with tickets or ticket stubs from every game he hit a home run in.

That’s pretty damn cool.

Kind of like a full set of Clash bootlegs. I gave up on that, even though they’re all readily available.

That’s definitely the rub of the modern world. So many things that used to just be pipe dreams are so easy to do now. I still like browsing record bins for that elusive 7 inch or LP or CD or even cassette tape that I’ve been searching for. Problem is, there are few actual record bins around anymore. I went to the local record store on “Record Store Day” and it was depressing. Everyone was there to grab the special this or limited reissue that. I admit it, I got a couple too. But I didn’t look at anything else. Well, not true. I looked for a couple of things. And noticed how barren the shelves were. How there were so few “new” artists to search through.

You can always just go on the internet and find it, listen to it and decide.

That’s so boring. So riskless.

I used to enjoy the thrill of finding a new band simply because I liked the artwork on the album sleeve or CD longbox.

Now, I can’t find them to do it. I have to go online.

I don’t like it, but I deal with it.

It is cheaper.

But that doesn’t keep a band touring.

Next time I listen to “Even the Losers” by Tom Petty, I don’t want to think about Pam.

Next time I listen to “Sixteen” by Lucero, I don’t want to think about Crystal.

Next time I hear anything by so many others, I don’t want to think about Emily.

And then there’s Maude.

Shit.

And the next time I hear anything by Garbage, I’ll not want to think about Adrianna.

But all those things will happen.

But I really don’t mind at all. It’s what makes it all matter.

There was a time when a live Christmas tree was everything.

Then there was the era of fake ones.

I hate fake Christmas trees. I should have taken that as a sign.

I always ignore signs. It’s a bad habit. Or is it?

I fucking hate those kind of thoughts. They have no meaning at all. No reply at all… ha. Random song lyric in my head alert.

I read Chuck Klosterman’s column today on Grantland. It was boring. I’d never been bored by his work before.

He replied to a tweet from me once. Said “Fuck” to open it.

That made my day.

Bruce Campbell retweeted me the other day.

I dug it.

That’s kind of sad, really.

I wrote a shitty article the other day. It had two big mistakes in it.

I used to go home and drink when I knew I’d done something like that.

I came home and ate Oreos instead.

Times they change. And so does the job. Which sucks. Really it does.

I don’t want it to suck. I never do.

It always seems to end up that way.

I was never that good at good byes anyway.

Random again.

Dr. Oz scares me. He looks really old on this episode. More serious. It’s about gay “fixing” whatever that is called. Yeah, a good journalist would look it up. I’m just a tourist, I guess.

I saw a post about kids being arrested last night. At least that’s how it read. I printed it out. Thought I’d be able to write about it.

Then, I saw it was last year.

And someone had just commented on it, bringing it back into Google’s ugly grip.

Feel the Algorithm of the night….

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