beatdowney

It feels like Heaven, it's such a problem

2008-10-09T15:10:00.000-07:00

RIP - Nike Air Max Burst 2001(?)-2008

Initially used for styling, later used for lifting and running. Right suffered from deflated air pocket. Left died of lonliness.

Apotheosis soundtrack: "Heaven" by Pere Ubu (from the Hearpen Singles Box)

shore shot

2006-03-29T22:22:00.000-08:00

went down to the pier tonight, forgetting that the ocean looks even scarier at night. i started thinking about earthquakes and tsunamis and great whites.

one of those "fuck, dude" moments.

breakfast of champions

2006-02-24T13:31:00.000-08:00

today seemed impossible. i put a thousand hurdles in my own way when i woke up at logan airport this morning sick and groggy. my ears wouldn't pop. i hated the guy sitting next to me, just for being there. i hated the way the stewerdess looked at me when i gave up my blanket. it did not seem like i'd be able to get myself in a good mood.

then, a literal turn around and i was able to completely start over.

it was when i craned my neck in time to hear the young eastern-european mother sitting in the row behind me ask her son "alex, did you dream about pancakes again?" that i felt like life wasn't so bad, if bad at all.

we are free to dream of pancakes, over and over and our mothers will never tire of the magnificence of our dreams. what a charmed life we lead!

bunny loops

2006-02-15T12:13:00.000-08:00

there is this one unreleased shellac song that i have a live recording of. steve albini quotes "roadrunner" in it. its like tying a shoelace.

remnds me of seattle when i was at the junction of 405 (which takes me to/from LAX) and 90 (a portion of which is the Massachusetts Turnpike). a binding of my bi-coastal life.

and in san pedro a month ago, ren and i stood nervously in a kitchen, steps away from mike watt. the same mike watt i shook hands with some ten years earlier in boston, when ken and i went to see him play at avalon. ren and i, growing old, hanging out in southern california feeling the same nervous excitement ken and i, growing up, felt in boston. i'm a fucking corndog through and through.

i have no real conclusion, except that there's always a route home, whatever that means.

kids and their dreams; kids in their dreams

2006-02-07T17:44:00.000-08:00

serious delirium. serious as cancer. we were. and i'd like to think we are now, more than ever, even though limits get together once, maybe twice a year.

serious as holidays.

...and i am not a superhero

2006-01-31T22:22:00.000-08:00

rethinking staying in shape. what am i doing? am i trying to stay thin and pretty in a land of thin and prettys? we'll all be dead fat bald dead assholes anyway.

the business traveler: ashtray underpants

2006-01-24T19:47:00.000-08:00

this photo is not a hoax! you can question this picture, but you cannot question my belief. this is real, and its in your town, torrance.

i myself have ashed on my underpants, but never imagined this as a possibility. the words "next level" come to mind. you may not be able to tell at first, but please take my word.

a pair of underpants. in an ashtray. god bless this hotel for encouraging this beauty and for housing me, a grateful guest!

the business traveler: stench of a mediocre man

2006-01-24T15:34:00.000-08:00

the guy at the end of my row on the airplane had, like, five little bottles of vodka. he insisted we share the tray table in between us like he was my big brother or something. and dude was working hard under that overhead light. a dedicated employee...the polo shirt and suitcoat that set us apart are extra large, my friend. hope the wife back in manchester or braintree or wherever the fuck you're from really appreciates you. and i hope mine'll appreciate me when i take your place in those comfy, white, extra wide sneakers someday.

i had no airplane nap. ended up sleeping "rough" last night. passed out on the hotel room couch watching one of the japanese channels. no washing up took place before i got to work this morning as all my toiletries are kept in my desk drawer at work. its been, what? 8 or 9 years and i still smell like the Rat. b.o., cigarettes, the halitosis of a 17 year old armchair anarchist and an undefinable scent of third rate punk rock.

so, the status report: i'm somewhere between a drunk analysis of sales figures on excel and a recitation of crass lyrics in between hauls on basics.

the business traveler

2005-11-16T23:32:00.000-08:00

keeping track of the lower points of my bi-coastal bt lifestyle.

1. lunched on my own today. taco bell drive through. ate my burrito alone in a rented chevy malibu, listening to "simple pleasures" in the walmart parking lot.

2. watched the lakers game in my hotel room, in my boxer briefs. accidentally ashed on myself. there is now a burn hole in my boxer briefs.

those sheets are dirty and so are you.

2005-11-08T21:10:00.000-08:00

second floor landing: a small victoria's secret tag.

third floor landing: a pile of dirty sheets.

let's hope these are related and the sound of the dishwasher is drowning out the sweet sound of staybridge suite sexin'. tagless and soused love.

he touched my penis.

2005-11-07T14:31:00.000-08:00

i got some extra attention at the airport today. i was pulled aside for "additional screening." they put me in that little transparent box inbetween the security lines. the moustachio-ed TSA man asked if i wanted a "private screening." i said no. best to keep things public. but he touched my privates in public. anyone in the vicinity could see. he ran the backs of his hands on my upper legs. i was only half-awake. his knuckles touched my penis.

city limits: new year's eve for halloween

2005-10-31T17:16:00.000-08:00

me and justin sullivan playing guitar. all rancid songs. we'll always have "olympia," friend. (chorus: c,d,g,c X3 c,g,d,d)
city limits came up with a great new song. "infection spreads from the heart to the head."
the kids at norman monitor were kind enough to host us in their loft. the show was typical limits fare. i was out of tune for most of the evening (before and after the set included) and broke many strings. justin suggested i bring a backup guitar. a wonderful idea, but still not enough for mr. strong strum. i really don't like playing guitar all that much, but kyle and dan are my favorite rythym section and justin my favorite vocalist. its where i fit in. i just concentrate on making a little noise and dancing with my buddies. ian sure as hell knows about the dancing. he does it much better than i do.
the show marked the first time rls and i really got down together. to be honest, i was intimidated by his work (all that i really knew of him). turns out, i had nothing to worry about. i should've known...we have mutual friends and they have amazing taste. i feel like i know him better now and can't wait to hang out on the left.
i missed mike's show because of ours. wish i could've been there, buddy. it was great to see you and meet adam at the party. and it was very kind of you to let me use your amp. what a guy. i'm holding you to your mariachi promise.
brendan and i didn't have the talk time that we wanted. i still want it.
ren and i jammed with justin dero one day and with andres the next. we spent some time listening to practice tapes and soul asylum. the deal: if i can divorce myself from the 9-5 (under-estimate), we're going to make a go at something serious. i made sure that i'm going to be the bass man. i'll leave the guitars to ren (the hercules of rock), all i know about is office politics and hitting the thick strings hard.
i picked francesca up from jfk and we took a walk to white castle. it was a first for me. she was the perfect person to go with. evidence: after plowing through our burgers and fries (i ate the majority of both, i believe) we went to a bar and got hot dogs. then went and got candy bars and cookies at the bodega.
john beat me in a race. he on his bike vs. me in the minivan. it would've been closer had it not been for a red-light and john's lack of respect for traffic rules. there's an asterisk next to that W, sir. see you at the starting line!
tara and i survived a tough weekend. i was a jerk and am still sorry. the van ride home was the worst. the sunday morning nap was the best.

the takeaway: love is worth it.

we don't run. we run things.

2005-10-12T16:09:00.000-07:00