lets get the formalities out of the way, im not here to make any friends.

friends is what you get when you go on a date and there isnt a love connection and you try to make something happen and maybe some of it happens and maybe shes really good at head and has a hot tattoo or a tounge ring or a shitload of weed or has the sexiest voice and loves to talk dirty or is super kinky as in whoa or has the cutest barest pussy that you just want to stare at it because from every angle its just fucking perfect as in its an oddity as in you want to take a picture but you cant just tell some new ho damn can i take a picture of that shit

but the sum doesnt equal the whole or something and it doesnt work out even if you try to change or start shaving more or stop buying clothes at target or quit eating taco bell every day. what you have is a failed good thing and now you have a nothing bu you want to keep it on the backburner just incase hell does freeze over so you have a friend.

friends are people who will help you move like no problem. friends are who you give your keys to water the plants to when youre going to aruba. friends are who you buy three dollar liscense plates for while in aruba while baked and drunk and bored so you figure let me find something here that no way in hell they can find here in america, something better than a hard rock cafe aruba visor, something better than a cowboy hat with a bandana tied around it that says aruba in cursive, something less illegal than a nervous iguana stowed away in your baggage.

i have enough friends.

a friend is someone who offers to take you across town on a sunday afternoon to get your directv tivo fixed even though it means that shes gotta drive uptown first to get your busriding black ass.

a friend is someone who makes you salmon steaks as youre doing laundry at their place.

a friend remembers that you really like beck and while shopping for garters with her girlfriend because theyre iswear going to have a girls night garter party buys you the new beck cd.

a friend remembers you after you hooked him up with a great stock deal and cuts you a generous slice after he cashes some of it out.

and heres what else a friend does, a friend calls bullshit on your last few records for being whiny and glum and cheerless and olde. a friend says if i wanted gordon lightfoot i would have dug his ass out of the dirt and got me some gordon lightfood. a friend says this new record of yours is a step in the right direction (“scarecrow”) but not a full step (“rental car”), a half step.

a friend says someones half stepping me and crosses his arms and furrows his brows (“missing”) and whispers bitch and goes back to chewing on his toothpick.

a good friend might even say this sounds like all the leftovers from odelay which wouldnta been bad leftovers if they werent thirteen years old and whereas some things age gracefully some things just stink after theyve turned.

word is the dustbrothers got dug up and their dirty bones were mushed together and their vaults were plundered and beck snuck out of there with some of the junk that hes been looking for (“Que’ Onda Guero”) over all these years and there are some layers in here that are promising. tom waits meets pearl jam (“farewell ride”) and didnt i tell you parts of it stink? but the last few slices were pearl jam meets pearl jam and if i put my name on that id be depressed too.

i barely treat the friends that i have good why should i come here to try to make new ones, my only job if you can call it that is call em like i see em and if im gonna call it not earthshattering not impressive not inspiring not fabulous not roadtrip worthy not better than even the donnas last record then thats what im gonna do

and some people would be all hell man why dont you use your blogger influence to be more positive why you gotta kick a man when hes down and im all shaddup. im all why do you come here if not to have a time out from the blahblahblah bullshit that everyone else seems to love to sing along to?

hey i know the dudes down, i can read!

from “scarecrow”
Walking to the other side / With the devil trying to take my mind
And my soul’s just a silhouette / On the ashes of a cigarette

from “black tambourine”
My baby runs to me / She lives in broken-down buildings
Can’t pay the rent again / These spider webs are my home now
And when the sun is down / We’ll shake and rattle our bodies
To keep it warm at night/ My tambourine is still shaking

because im a friend ive played the guero drinking game where you take a shot every time he mentions bones or death or the devil or dust or being buryied and im still fucking wasted

so i know what sort of shape he must be in and is and what an accomplishment it is to have hit rock bottom, find the scrapbook of past grandeur which is doubling as a treasure map out but to use it you have to put on a silly hat and try not to be embarrassing and dirivitive so good luck

and its nice to see that guero isnt either of those things.

this is a record from a friend to a friend

at christmas

if you were gonna get them three cds and a scarf.

and one day we’ll get a whole cd of this:

from “go it alone”

I’m coming over
See me down at the station
By the lane
With my hands in my pocket
Jingling a wish coin
That I stole from a fountain
That was drownin’

All the cares in the world
When I get older
Climbing up on the back porch fence
Just to see the dogs runnin’
With a ring and a question
And my shivering voice is singing
Through a crack in the window

oak park mastermind + muscle68 + streetcar blog + sk smith deserved better + lindsays ass

dear best friend in africa,

i miss you. i miss you a lot. every time the phone rings i think of you. every time i want to pick up the phone i think of you.

you know i dont call anyone on the phone and you know i dont pick up the phone unless its you or my momma.

im so sorry i havent written you earlier. im horrible. and ive been sick. and ive been traveling like a mad man.

i got your email and your letter and your card and your smoke signals. i think i got your carrier pigeon but i kept shooing him away and finally he just pooped on my porch.

i think ive been sick because i miss you. i know i have been traveling and staying out late so as to not think about you. i know that there is something wrong with me because youre not here but dont take that the wrong way, im just adjusting, and you know Libras have a hard time adjusting to new things.

today is opening day and if you were here id have taken you to dodger stadium. you would have tried to go to work but i would have worked out something with your boss so she’d know to give you today off.

lately ive been going to movies a lot. plus the academy girls have been servicing me with dvds while ive been ill so ive probably seen more movies in the month that youve been away than i saw all year.

spikes film was great, and your girl natalie portman was in a movie that made me cry.

i cant imagine what life is like in africa for you. i cant imagine sleeping in the dirt or in the cold or having to walk places for water. i cant imagine not being able to eat fast food, or watch people suffer, or knowing that theres massive violence happening a hundred miles away.

you really are an angel and i cannot imagine anyone better to represent america than you and i cant imagine anyone who id rather meet if i was a dirt poor human being in the most impoverished country in the world than you.

i promise that i will write more. i dont know if you want to be in touch with the “real world” but if you do im here for you, not that my life is real, if anything its the most unreal anywhere. but if you want to know whats happening outside of the impenetrable forrest i will let you know.

barry bonds had a book written about him saying that he was taking steriods and now the commissioner of baseball is launching a full blown investigation. as if baseball didnt know that steriods was happening.

howard stern got 30% of his listeners, like me, to pay for radio. meanwhile david lee roth is doing so badly in nyc that theyre probably going to fire him after just 2 months, and adam corrola is doing so bad in LA that hes in dead last place. both markets were #1 for howard for years. things are so bad for CBS that theyre now trying to sue howard in an act of desperation, but all its done is keep howard in the news and make more people want to buy radios to hear wtf hes doing.

what hes doing is great. people are allowed to talk normally. there are far fewer commercials and last week these girls demonstrated the fucking machines.

i miss you so much that i really will visit you in africa this christmas.

i promise,


ps im soooo happy i didnt loan you my ipod, it broke, and after i told my readers they donated enough money for me to get a new one. i had a new one within two days. so crazy! i told you things are unreal.

pps i took a picture of luke wilson in texas at a buzznet party and he was all pissed off and i told him to save that shit for hollywood.

If you’d like to send a nice letter to our friend in Uganda here is her address

Chris Spurny
P.O. Box 29348
Kampala, Uganda

happy opening day

when i was a kid i’d always fight with my mom to let me have Opening Day off from school. and sometimes she would tell me i was crazy but later she realized that i was crazy and let me stay at home.

opening day for a Cub fan is one of the few days where our hopes and idealism and dreams were strong. you start fresh, the uniforms are bright and clean, the ivy is brown and there might even still be snow on the ground but there was spring and life and growth just around the corner.

so here i am now a grown man and i would have loved to ask my boss to let me work from home but since ive been sick the last few weeks ive sorta run out of days where i can do that, but the desires and hopes and dreams of that little kid are still inside me, and here i am looking at the clock seeing that its 1153am Pacific knowing that something is happening at Wrigley Field for the first time and even though i know i could just log on to ESPN and find out, its far better to just imagine that Derrick Lee has bashed a few into the bleachers already, and that Aramis Ramirez has lined a few doubles off the bricks in left.

Cubs fans are cursed with a love that will never be returned, and its ok. we learn to appreciate the smaller things, like the taste of a cold beer and a good conversation while applying long lines of mustard to our vienna all beef hotdogs.

i hear the bleachers cost $25 now and the Tribune Corp sold the rights to name the bleachers to Bud Light. which is fine with me because after i bang marilyn monroe and Venus and cleopatra when im in Heaven, i will ask to go to the special place in Hell where those Tribune execs who brokered that deal are tied up and i will poke their eyes out with spears and chop up their naughty bits.

i dont have any children but when i do i will take them to the bleachers and because i have been bitten by the curse i will fork over the $50 a ticket or however much it costs in the future and i will tell them about Babe Ruth pointing to center field at Wrigley, and i will tell them about Bill Veeck and how he planted the ivy out there as a young man and as an old man sat in the bleachrs with his shirt off and his one leg, and i will tell them about Harry Caray and how he took a chest of beer out there once a year when he broadcasted from the best place in the world – the bleachers of wrigley field.

and they will probably not understand, and if they dont, good. curses shouldnt be passed along from generation to generation. but if they do get it then they wont have to fight with anyone if they want to take opening day off and watch it on tv instead of going to school.

at least not from this cub fan.

unless of course they end up yankee fans.

the coachella blog + buzzmachine + alecia