my first audio post

Powered by audblogmy first audio post

powered by audblog

so my man noah wrote me and asked me why i dont use Audblog. and hes a very nice guy who has been reading the busblog for a while. and lo and behold he has something to do with Audblog.

so today i gave it a shot and let me tell you about my experience.

it was super easy.

it took me maybe 5 minutes total to sign up, make my post, and get it up there.

the first post is free and you can get 12 more posts a month for $3 a month.

people spend more than that on dumbass ring tones for their cell phones.

at this point im not exactly sure why i would use this feature on the busblog, but im brainstorming and maybe you, the sage readers, can help me.

so far im thinking that if i meet a famous person and i have my mobile phone i can dial the number and have them say hi to all of you.

im also thinking that maybe if karisa or anna or miss montreal wants to say a few words for the kids then i could hook that shit up.

and then of course i could take my phone to a tsar show and let you all hear a few minutes of what heaven sounds like.

and then, obviously, i could put my phone in someones bed room when they least expect it…

or outside my window when my neighbors are fighting.

or on the bus when theres a bus-evangelist.

or at the laker game when theyre introducing number 8, at small guard, kooooooobeeeeeee bryyyyyyant.

or at a hootenanny when someones playing Good Deal of Love.

or something

if only i could forward my answering messages to this i would be totally stoked, cuz i get some funny ones.

noah glass + riley dog + tom dog

yes the busses are back.

walked to my subway station, took the elevator down, stood and waited and was shocked at how few people were down there with me.

didnt see the creepy guy who sometimes has a morning beer wrapped in a little brown paper bag, didnt see any of the armenian men who frown at me with their unibrows, didnt see any kids running late for school, didnt see any guys dressed up in their security man uniforms.

shit, barely saw anyone.

got onboard. it was free today. supposed to be free all week. but there wasnt any signage. you’d think that would be something that they would put on their little message board. WELCOME BACK: FREE RIDES ALL WEEK. but no.

pretty empty in the subway to wilshire + vermont. charlie brown’s teacher got on the PA and said something about wilshire + western trains. not sure what she said. so i used the escalator and got to wilshire + vermont to catch a bus.

hardly anyone was walking around. looked like a sunday.

the message screen below the Rapid sign said next bus in 10 minutes. it hardly ever says anything longer than 2 minutes. but apparently some of the bus drivers didnt have enough days off.

10 minutes later two Rapid busses showed up at the same time. they both opened up both of their doors and people crammed in. about 8 of us watched the madness and didnt get on. we waited.

the sign said the next bus was coming in 3 minutes. meanwhile no local busses arrived.

its nice in LA today. sunny. warm. a tad crisp but not really. i didnt mind waiting. i hadnt waited for a bus in a month. its good to wait.

as the sun warmed my blogger hoodie i saw a guy who held his hand up in a semi-ball. i thought that i was a creep for bitching about anything in life when i could easily be a guy with a deformity like that.

i took a picture of a tree. my life isnt so bad.

got on the bus. it was nearly empty. went to the back like i did in high school. sat by the window. at the next stop it filled up and a woman with an eye patch sat next to me.

all was well again.

photo by mc brown who also posted a nice gallery of tsar pix from last night and charlies bach party

didnt sleep so well last night.

started first on the couch, which is pretty normal. then woke up at 4am and went to the bed. i have a freaky life. i dont get it.

on one hand there are people who dont even know me who love me. thats nice freaky. then i have people who know me pretty well who dont like me at all, who want me to be sad. thats creepy freaky. then i have people who know me super super well who love me and will love me forever.

so guess who i think about at 4:20am, the girls who send me pictures who dont know me? the friends ive had forever? the people im dying to meet?

no, i think about the haters.

i think about bush and rush and drudge and incubus.

whats wrong with me.

i see that at 6am im still awake and i think about how much writing i could be doing. something i love.

but i dont do that either, i sit in my bed, electric blanket off to motivate me to get up, and i listen to howard stern and guess who he’s thinking about.

rush.

we’re all crazy.

tim blair at this wedding last month came up to me and said that i will be a millionaire in a few years and the crazy thing is i agreed with him. but the crazier thing is i dont care about no million dollars. i care about proving the haters wrong at my low paying job. i care about rock radio playing tsar even though theyre way too good for rock radio.

i care about being liked. even to people who i confront. even to people i dont confront. even to people who no way would ever like me. even to people who have every reason to love me but harden their own heart.

i care about writing well. i care about writing books. and instead of just turning off the tv and the stereo and the phone and writing novels, i go out to fatburger with hotties and get sad when they leave, and then aol chat with strangers and dont write on the blog and dont update the website and dont write the sex novel and dont read and dont study and dont talk to writers about writing.

i lay there and age.

ungracefully.

today im going to take the subway to the subway to the bus to the bus and it will all be free because they want to say thank you for your patronage during the strike.

i live in los angeles where one is defined by their vehicle.

i ride the bus.

then i blog about it.

and then i stay up at night and wonder why people dont get me.

appalachia alumni assc. + right over there + britcoal + but is it art