Friday, May 20, 2005

I have a dream. It’s a little dream. And a temporary one. It will be either granted or destroyed, within the next couple hours.

It involves getting out of here within the next 45 minutes, picking up a 5th of bourbon, the weather being clear so I can ride the bike over the hill, and me getting home in time to watch the complete 2nd half of the dallas phoenix game.

During this I will have drinks and hopefully bang on the keyboard of the laptop and compose some ingenious nonsensical addition to the master thesis, an incubated and developing novel that has now grown to about 57,000 words, and which I have a sinking feeling is not yet halfway done.

Basically it’s a mass crapsterpiece composed of ill-fated werds strewn across the garbage space of some filthy con artist’s mind, then regurgitated to a horrified audience of magpies taking a break from munching on the detritus. Or something in that arena.

Oh yah a couple innernet musical recommendations while I’m here. Tony pierce is always blabbing about Tsar, well, the rumours are true, they do kick a modicum of ass, I finally know cuz of their myspace dillio, which has some songs you can stream.

Also, this girl, sarah lynch, she sings a helluva tune. You can stream some of her songs as well. Like jazzy type lounge lizarding stuff, which I’m prolly describing all wrong. Oh well. That’s my prerogative, even if I don’t slap around Whitney Houston in between cracklepuffs. If you’re in Mannhattan go check out her next show and say kool keith el otro sent you. She’ll have no idea what that means, but trust me it’s better that way.

Anything I recommend is of course solid gold in all the most underground and well respected types of ways. Don’t let the fact that I was a roadie for Gangsta Pat back in the day get in the way of your knowledge thereof.