sometimes you are the game.
ive been coughting and fighting this whatever it is. but i cant say that ium not sick and i cant say i am,. im not as drunk as i should be but its not for a lcak of trying.
sara dan and i spent eight hruours drinking and smoking and rocking and walking and talking and doing all the good things.
it started at 33:0p and its 330a now and im luvimng you texass i know youre trying to beat me down but onw gooed thing about being old is y0u get tuffer. you knw your strneths and weaknessesss but you never know which the right girls are to kiss and the ones you should just hug.
i need a beer a watrr and some bed. nite/
hi babies im back. im black. and im better than ever. its 131p and whatever bug was in me is out. i drank it out of me, i blew it out of me, i poisoned it with rums and rums and baileys and waters. i sweated it out in the pits of tons of bands. i ate it out with tex mex thanks to asher, i walked it off thanks to dan and sara and chris and the pants.
last night at 930p all the medicines were fighting the bug and it made me just want to curl up and sleep the sleep of the just. but im not part of the just. im someone who is trying to be just.
im still looking for something. im still trying to prove myself, im still trying to find that little bit of little leaguer thats angelic and that huge peice of islavista thats wreckless and wild and wanting to walk down the street with a beer and a cheerleader and two smelly fingers.
so at 945p i was walking down 6th street along with so many other people and we found the cobrasnake snakebitten on the street and i took a picture we found tim from popsicko walking down the street so i took a picture i found 3428543894 chicks dressed slutty with their fake bakes so i said hi my name is dumbass and they were all hi tonyypierse and my little party and i chilled out in style at the Driskill hotel which if i ever become a famous writer living in a hotel all creepylike that will be my residence and i will let the ghosts watch me beat off and write and fuck and drink and i will let them in my dreams and i will struggle to be just.
but right now i will eat a snickers for breakfast and tell you abotu the bellrays.
theres a deepness to the souls of black folks thats different from the rest. and theres something even deeper to the souls of black women. particularily black women who are no longer girls but women.
Lisa Kekaula is tina turner returned from the dead. she wears high heels and a tight skirt and picked out her afro as big as she can upstairs at room 710 which is the backstage dressing room slash office at the club that asher owns.
shes a dark skinned nubian princess destined to be queen and the longer it takes her to get their the more emotional and wild and soulful her singing and performances get.
i was lucky enough to catch a show of theirs two years ago at spaceland and i was blown away by the mixture of punk thrash with her soulful vocals. and i was twice as shocked that somehow theyve upped the ante with something that can only be described as heart.
ms kekaula shook her ass, shook her cha-chas got on her knees, jumped on the stage and sang with the people and even bent over backwards to let us in on what soul music is all about while her band kept a steady beat and a tight rock melody. she told us cheer only if we wanted to only if we felt it only if it was true. and then she reminded us that clapping along helped us feel the spirit it helped us get into the groovy it helped us be one with the power of love.
and then she belted out a song that made us keep clapping because we wanted some of whatever that was. and if you ask me, that was the begining of the end to the evil that was inside me. yes i had been excorcised by rock n roll.
after the inpsiring and devistating performance i asked her to pose for a picture with asher and sara and dan and i was so nervous because she is really the real deal and all 50 people who were at the show knew it and the picture turned out blurry because i couldnt think straight and before she left i hugged her. she was sweaty i was sweaty but i did feel the magic and i wanted to hug the source. i had to. and i did.
i thought i was complete after the one-two punch of gogogogo bordello and honky but im often wrong and sometimes its great to be wrong about things.
way more pics of the show here
im not a good person. thats been astablished. i rush to jusdgements i criticize vehemently.l i dont spell cueck i dont grammar check i dont update as much as i used to . i dont ewrite as much as i used to. my early stuff was so much better. and even that was a rip off of someone. and now ive resigned myself to the easiest form of writing of all times. the drunk blog. i could get used to this. so could my liver. my whole body actiually is all dude this is so isla vista this si so tony del playa. this is so right on . this is what blogging is all about.
ive never wanted to be anyone else but you. ive never been happyt in my hat. ive never been satisfied. im never wrong. things are never right. but i cant believe how well this benadryl d is. i had to get it from behind the counter and the ladies made me sign a form. the ladies made me show id. the ladies made me write down my address.
manna from heaven maybe. leftovers from the festival. its 433am, and im back at the hotel. mc browns snoozing and bunny mcintosh is in my bed and the ac is on and the red bull and hapenstance is zipping through my head and i have so manhy stories to tell yhou but the comments have been pretty slow latgely and i dont know if its cuz you guys have nothing to say or if you dont want to say whoo hoo sxsw im so jealous but i dont know wwhat youd say anywhasys and i dont knwo what id say anyways either im just a rider on teh triean im just rolling along
austin. flatass. theres a few2 thingss that im learning alreayd and its only the first night of the musics. first thing is i drink better than you. other think is every bamd thinks therye the shit. last thing is most bands are not the shit.
to perform my civil duty. unlike most people i enjoy jury duty because i find the whole legal process fascinating, especially when its unfolding right in front of you and you get to help decide yay or nay.
the panel is also the time when the jurors can say the things that will make the judge want to kick them off. usually i am tempted to say things like “im very likely to find blacks not guilty, so present a hell of a case or you can predict my vote and i have no problem hanging the jury,” but i’m usually kicked off immediately when, in the short questionaire, next to occupation, i write XBI Agent.
i could handle a one day or two day trial, but two weeks? mr cool did get into panic mode for a second, i will admit. gotta keep it real. but then the lady with the microphone read a name off the list that you would only hear in los angeles
which is what i did when i was the first juror that they asked to stand up and state name and occupation. yes me, the only gangmember-looking dude in the hizzy.
and his jaw dropped.
it was in the valley. it was hot in the val. dropped the top down. it wasnt a convertable but now it is.
this opportunity comes once in a lifetime yo. i never dream but the other night i had several dreams. in one of them i was running with my old pal aj. in another i was flying around in chopper one for a very long time never really accomplishing anything interesting. in another one i was back in high school taking a test but i couldnt read the letters. in another i was driving a semi truck that had eggs in the cargo. but i didnt know how to work the gears even though somehow we had made it to the freeway. me being me and the eggs and a few chickens. why chickens? why dreams. she had short hair and a ride to the fair. we went there. we ate there. we walked around and thought about things outloud and drank beers out of cups. they had games of chance and dark corners and rickety rides. they had funny lights and left handed monkeys throwing peanut shells and donkeys. there were butter sculpters, men from mars, and drunken turtle races. we bet on #7 but it wasnt in the stars. then i had another dream. this one was in black and white. i was black she was white. her white legs shown in the black sky on top of the black garter on her white thigh.
second-best guitarist of all time. songwriter and star of the best band ever. devilworshiper, rockstar, icon, theramin player, dirty brit. 