while i was on the plane i felt horrible. all i wanted to do was sleep.
i bought one of those ridiculous neck things because i wanted to sleep. didnt work.
i smuggled a roll of TP in my pocket and blew throughout the flight.
very sweet man next to me endured it. he had flown to Texas to hunt. deer mostly.
loved venison burgers, he told me.
i put my headphones on and turned the tv channels. god bless jet blue
for a minute i wondered if the xbi was involved
because at that moment i would have done just about anything to ease the pain.
so intense. so irritating. so dire.
my whole body was trying to get rid of something: my eyes were welling up, my nose, my throat, i had to pee, i had to exeunt, i wanted to say something,
but what.
stop.
help.
land.
was the last off the plane cuz i couldnt get up.
lurched over i saw my truest at the curb.
when i hugged her it was like hugging yr mom. so comforting. so sweet.
everything
was
going to be all right.
she had come early cuz shes an angel. and parked. and waited.
even though i was afraid i was gonna barf it all up i asked her to take me to soul food.
the line wasnt long but it wasnt moving. have you ever wondered why its so easy for you to do things at the ATM or grocery line or post office but it takes the two people in front of you FOREVER to figure it out.
smothered chicken, collard greens, mac n cheese, candied yams please.
how hards that? i think i even asked omg one question: do you have any breasts?
cuz its funny.
so why does everyone else have like 20 questions. or the 1 question they know will stop the presses?
nose was so stuffed up that i couldnt smell the food in the car as we drove back up the 405.
that the main line in the chorus of “Bastards of Young” is not what we’ve all been singing along to for more than 20 years
Westerberg: “It took years for someone to pick up on the fact that the chorus is “Wait on the sons of no one,” not “We are the sons of no one.” I didn’t even know that – I wrote it and forgot it. A writer named Bob Mehr had to point that out to me. I actually took it from a chapter in the Bible.”
SPIN: Whoa And that might be the most famous line you’ve ever written.
Armstrong: I can’t wait to tell my friend Jason – we always play Replacements trivia. I’m so winning this one. (page 53, April 2010, Spin)
(for the record, i cannot find that so called bible chapter anywhere in the bible.)
later Billie Joe asks Paul why they never created a side project together and Paul says its the same reason John Fogerty and Alex Chilton never had one – because they do pretty much the same type of music.
It was some years back, the last time I saw Alex Chilton. We miraculously bumped into each other one autumn evening in New York, he in a Memphis Minnie T-shirt, with take-out Thai, en route to his hotel. He invited me along to watch the World Series on TV, and I immediately discarded whatever flimsy obligation I may have had. We watched baseball, talked and laughed, especially about his current residence — he was living in, get this, a tent in Tennessee.
Because we were musicians, our talk inevitably turned toward women, and Al, ever the Southern gentleman, was having a hard time between bites communicating to me the difficulty in … you see, the difficulty in (me taking my last swig that didn’t end up on the wall, as I boldly supplied the punch line) “… in asking a young lady if she’d like to come back to your tent?” We both darn near died there in a fit of laughter.
Yeah, December boys got it bad, as “September Gurls” notes. The great Alex Chilton is gone — folk troubadour, blues shouter, master singer, songwriter and guitarist. Someone should write a tune about him. Then again, nah, that would be impossible. Or just plain stupid.
yep this is what it looked and sounded like yesterday afternoon at stubbs
man that seems like 100 years ago.
if you notice, even though Hole was the Spin party headliner, they still had to share the stage with Muse’s equipment (who played later last night)… as if they were an opening act
whatevs, mines is foreverz
anyways heres video of courtney rippin on brett michaels from poison (nsfw)
Canada’s answer to both Billy Bragg and Ryan Adams, Matthew Good, plays the cozy basement of Prague just south of Congress on 5th Street at 11 p.m. Good doesn’t tour the States often, so if you missed him at the Troubadour earlier this week, this might be your last chance to see him in the U.S.
Mimicking the Beatles in a weird way, sorta, Sum 41 will bring its pop punk to the roof of Maggie Mae’s at midnight.
Then, finally, if you couldn’t get into the Spin party, Hole is playing a late-night (1 a.m.) show at the Dirty Dog Bar on 6th Street. If you don’t want to end your night with some celebrity skin, you’re missing the point of this grand melange of excess. Go rock.
because at that moment i would have done just about anything to ease the pain.
