Boxes, boxes, trapped in boxes.


You’ve felt it before, boxed in. Boxed in.


And sometimes, maybe the right thing to do would be to stay in the box.
It’s warm in the box, and safe, and no one there will ever hurt you.
You could just get along in the box for 60 or so years and that’d be it.


No great loves, no great pains.
Or …


Something else.
You could leave the box. There’s no lock on the lid.
You could see the exciting places and interesting, glittering things outside your experience.


Everyone says that’s what they’d do.
But most of them just yell it from box to box.


“I don’t go anywhere whithout my switchblade”
I don’t go anywhere whithout crew
I don’t go anywhere without protection
I don’t go anywhere without my weapons.”

I chewed somebody’s ass at work today.
I mean, I really, really chewed somebody’s ass. Not casual jockying for position, not under the radar aggressioin, I mean, I was the Evil Boss in the the Evil Boss Is Chewing My Ass in Front of Everyone blog he will post tonigtht. Serious public upbraiding. Deliberate humiliation. Alpha maleism at his finest.


He TOTALLY FUCKING DESERVED it too – I’m still pissed at him. But I still hate having to be the fucking grownup.


Also – still trying to decide what to do with my life. Not making much headway on that.


——————————–


Times is ruff and tuff like leather
Figured out I went the wrong route
So I got with a sick ass click and went all out
Catchin keys from across seas
Rollin in MPV’s, every week we made forty G’s

New entry


Sunday afternoon wake up entry.


I got conned into going out last night, and I ended up staying out until about 6:30 in the morning.


I realized something profound: My only real issue is other people’s issues.


I was at a party, and EVERY UNESCORTED GIRL THERE had an inattentive, out of town, abusive, or neglectful boyfriend. I’m talking a good 6 or 8 girls here. And I was paying attention to what they said to other people, not just what they said to me . . . so what gives? 


And the vile thing? They were all feeling no pain and eating out of my hand . . . could have just singled out one that was weak or sick and cut it out of the pack, no problem, but I just didn’t want to be That Guy last night . . .  

How did I manage to arrive at a nexus of girls ripe for adulteration?
Why does god do these things to me, screw with me like this?
Perhaps the way I laughed at the hyena mauling in the new Exorcist movie hours earlier?


Could be . . . I guess it’s only fair for God to screw with me. Lord knows I do enough crap to him. 


I also ended a drunken pro life/pro choice debate between some christian ho-bag and some dude, by introducing them to my innovative new abortion platform. When asked how I felt about it, I replied, “I’m not pro abortion, exactly, but I’m very, very anti-life.” (I think orignal credit for this may go to either some comedian or Krootboy, in the interest of full disclosure)

That got an odd look.


also, these guys played at the local drinkery last night and they’re pretty cool.


they’re out of Denver so catch them or don’t, I don’t care.


——


There’s no recollection
of the evil things I’ve done
My head feels like I musta’ had some fun

What happened?

Last thing I remember
I was chillin at a party
Pinching girlie’s asses
I was drinking recklessly

I know I did something
Lord what could it be

Ugh. We had our primary election day. It was . . . pretty intense.


An election is supposed to be the pinnacle of live journalism, running all over fuck and back trying to keep everything updated.


And we did good. We smoked the competition. We drowned them like a toilet seat, so to speak.


And yet I feel only spent.


Tonight, I think about the future and the past. . . so I bring you a dual . . . and perhaps a duel lyric of the day:


 


We can expand, buy a little land
hand the dope game down to the next man
Buy a little business, clean the money
look at the cops funny
 hey hey hey
Frontin in your caddy or a beat up Taurus,
got the baby gangsters sellin shit for us
we can dance underwater and not get wet –
Sell crack on the internet


——–


In the darkness before dinner comes
Sometimes I can feel the itch
I got a cold mind to go tripping across that thin line
I’m sick of doin’ straight time
My uncle’s at the evenin’ table, makes his living runnin’ hot cars
Slips me a hundred dollar bill says
“Charlie you best remember who your friends are”
….
Kitchen floor in the evening tossin’ my little babies high
Mary’s smiling, but she’s watching me, out of the corner of her eye
Seems you can’t get any more than half free
I step out onto the front porch and suck the cold air deep inside of me
Got a cold mind to go trippin’ ‘cross that thin line
I’m sick of doin’ straight time




We’ll speak no more of yesterday.


—————————————————–


Saw AVP . .. it’s no better then alright. 


Some good effects, some bad acting, some choppy editing (it’s inexplicably PG13) . . . I wouldn’t pay full price for it, this is a rental movie.


Went out afterwords with a pal. One of his “lady friends” is a waitress at one of the worst plywood-walled dives in town . . .so we went there for free beer and darts. . . it’s a funny place. better then cable.


A lot of backs, but no spines, so to speak.


Lyric:


20 years of waiting went into that shot
The fans jump up
and the fin did too
Cold cocked Buddy on his follow-though
The big man crumpled;
It felt alright
Cause the last thing he saw was that flashing red light

I lost a friend today.


Not a good friend, but someone I spoke to, someone I knew.


I didn’t know her family, but I do know her friends.


The shock of it…..I’ve been so used to a risk-free life, I almost forgot the protocal.


In the Sandman, numerous people, from a millenia old quasi-immortal to a one year old taken in it’s crib ask Death the same question: “Is that all I get? Is that all there is?”


She smiles that smile of hers and gives each of them the same enigmatic, mona lisa answer:
“You got a lifetime.”


A lot of people died today. I’m just not pleased one of them was one of mine.


Lyric:


Underneath the chilly grey november sky
We can make believe
That kennedy is still alive
We’re shooting for the moon and smiling
Jackie’s driving by


 

Odd things I did tonight:

1. Broke up a bar fight . . . for free.


2. Saw numerous piercings administered.


3. Met a man who lost his foot to gangrene while incarcerated.


4. Stored 12 oz (approximately) of loose tuna salad in my fridge in a clear ziploc bag.


Anybody else have one of “those” fridays?


Lyric time:


If you are a bully, treat me good.
If you are a bully, a bully, I beg you treat me good.
I’m like a steppin’ razor, don’t ya watch my sides

Ho-Ho-Ho


Read the “imitative Behavior” section with a straight face, I dare you.


 


Today’s playlist sample:


“My spirit’s weak, my lust will thrive
Got a thing for this bitch said her name’s a lie
She controls me with her fear, my prayers fall on her cold deaf ear
She says have a good time and take your dive
Just forget about me, just forget about
Sweet things, won’t you save my soul (yeah)
Pretty lady, won’t you take me home
Sweet thing won’t you save my soul (yeah)
Pretty lady won’t you take me home…tonight
I’ve got a Babylon feelin’, I’ve got a Babylon feelin’
I’ve got a Babylon feelin’, I’m feelin’ Babylon”

Kids Today:

Yesterday, at work, I hear some shitty hip-hop coming out of one of our editing stations, so I sidle over to the edit bay and peek in.


A pair of our little, intern level, editing cowboys are in there, with one of our anchors who moonlights as a musician.


And they’re turning out a skate video on our gear.


And, in the words of the guy from high fidelity, they’re pretty good.


So it’s hookup time. I’m gonna see what I can do for them. I’ve got some grownups engaged in a video project that have more resources and connections, but will probably need some production help.


And I’ve got some really good filmakers in need of distribution and exposure.

Get it yet?  


That’s why I’m a producer, baby.


And Vicar, you and Padilla should both see if you could do a segement a piece on their next video. Cause I’ve got some ideas, and it might just be the shit. THE SHIT IN A HIP-HOP SENSE.


Lyric:
my head once owned by a damn’ ol’ thug
and they stole my legs from the local morgue
there is more stuff like this for you in stock
see us travelin’ through the land with our crazy show
and if you’re strange too, come and join our crew
but we might have you for lunch if you treat us like shit

welcome to the show it`s great to have you here
i give you a thrill guarantee
we`re the freaks to blow your mind
and the weirdest of our kind!