2005-11-09 21:57:00
Huh, David Allen Coe's "Perfect Country and Western Song" really is perfect
Went to this poetry slam thing the other night. I enjoyed it for the most part. Well, half of it. But it's alright, it got me out gave me a place to drink and smoke and just get out of my own head for a bit.
I'm not a poet myself, and frankly, I don't always get it. I don't mean it's a requirement that a poet blows my mind, because most people who call themselves poets just aren't capable of that. Hell, only a handful of musicians can pull it off. Science blows my mind. Nature blows my mind. ****ing plants that camouflage themselves as rocks or get their nutrients by trapping insects with their nectar and flute-like design blow my mind. The mother****ing frogs that can suss out that these plants are one part Denny's and one part abattoir for flies and hang around the entrance to jump one or two that might be daydreaming on their way in...they blow my mind.
Poets for the most part piss me off. And then there are the times that even the most shit poets can impress me just by adding a little bit of showmanship into the mix. Now and then you get one that is a bit of a carnival barker or a bit of a jazz musician, and I like that. I admire those who can do that because I want to be entertained. That's all, really. If I want to see life from a different angle, I'll put some sort of lens to my eye and look at it from whatever angle I choose.
So, I guess I've been doing that lately as I've started getting into photography. Now, I've always had a Polaroid camera or a pocket camera of some sort since I was a kid, I just never thought of saying that I was "into photography" or "a photographer" and various other "labels" that can be wedged between "quotation marks." Just as I always had tape recorders and drumsticks around the house, I still find it difficult to not state my occupation as "in a band" to actual, real live, gen-u-ine "musician." The only difference now is that Manson gave me a pinhole camera and wants me to do a show. Gidget told me to get a Holga, and I did. I was a little surprised when it arrived in the mail, because when I opened it, I couldn't remember sending General Mills any cereal box tops. Then I remembered that last year I sent away for a Boo Berry bobblehead and that little bitch still hasn't arrived.
I think I'll send the cereal company my latest Polaroid titled, "One-Eyed Albino Snake in Natural Habitat."


2004-12-0911:51:00
It wasn't his ****ing time. Safe journey, Dimebag. I'll raise a few glasses for you tonight.

2004-12-0214:03:00
I'm still here, but I'm sick. Good thing I've been drinking lots of liquids--about a case of long necks each night--and taking my meds. So what else is new... The day before Thanksgiving, we performed on the Late Show With David Letterman. I called my grandma the next day to ask her if she watched the show and how did she like it, and she said that she was proud of me and that she was thrilled to watch me playing keyboards all throughout the show. Unfortunately, I had to inform her that it was actually Paul Schaffer she had been watching, and that I was that little white blur at the back of the stage towards the end of the show. She said that was nice and that maybe I could try out to be the bandleader for that nice Carson Daley or something. Then I believe she wandered off to harvest a few buds from her private garden. We're back in Florida for the tour for a bit, so Grandma and I will be hanging out for awhile later on tonight. She's promised to take me to her favorite biker bar, so that should be fun. I'm still working on that bachelor party, which no one will help me with, so I may be a little busy this month and such. However, I'll post again soon with much more interesting stuff, along with my extensive Christmas wish list.
Buy buy!

2004-08-30 11:32:00
So bored I could kill myself
Bored, bored, bored. Damn you, ADHD. Why don't they bring back electric shock therapy? Seriously, back in the day, you went to your local mental hospital, got a nice white gown, robe, and slippers, and some nice brain damage later, you "rested" until someone put you in a wheel chair and carted you home.
Mom says I should get a girlfriend. That's not a bad idea, because I could use someone to keep watch should my house catch on fire while I'm blacked out. For now I do my drinking on the ground floor, so I don't fall down any stairs. At least I have that going for me.
I did manage to watch Manson on the MTV Video Music Awards last night. Yeah...Ok, I was less than impressed by the majority of the show, but it occurred to me that the VMAs have always sucked. Every year it's a contest of one-upmanship. Gotta do better than the year before. Gotta do better than the band before. Gotta be outrageous. Gotta make an impression. I'm bored with the bigger and better. The only good acts that show has ever had have been ours and Madonna's first "Like a Virgin" performance, and she went and destroyed my teenage memories by doing what she did last year. Yeah, I'm bitter. Feh, I say.
And where have the Osbourne kids gone? I didn't see a trace of them there, and I feel kind of lost and don't know what to do with myself now. Oh, Manson, good job, by the way.


2004-08-09 17:06:00
Don't even think about it. In fact, don't ****ing even breathe on my journal if you're thinking about it. No one is turning me into a giggly thirteen year old girl.
There'll be something of substance here when I muster up enough energy to lift the weight of a rat's ass.
Until then, enjoy this little ditty by Mr. Anthony Newly:
I'm gonna build a mountain, from a little hill.
I'm gonna build a mountain, least I hope I will.
I'm gonna build a mountain, I'm gonna build it high.
I don't know how I'm gonna do it, only know I'm gonna try.
I'm gonna build a daydream, from a little hope.
I'm gonna push the daydream, up that mountain slope.
I'm gonna build a daydream, woah, I'm gonna see it through.
Gonna build a mountain and a daydream,
Gonna make 'em both come true.
I'm gonna build a heaven, as a will someday,
And the Lord sends Ga-bri-el to take me away.
Woah, I wanna fine young son, to take my place.
I'll leave my son in my heaven on earth with the good Lord's grace.
I'm gonna build a mountain, from a little hill.
I'm gonna build a mountain, least I hope I will.
I'm gonna build a mountain, yeah, gonna see it through.
Gonna build a mountain and a daydream,
Gonna make 'em both come true.
I'm gonna build a daydream, from a little hope.
I'm gonna push the daydream, up that mountain slope.
I'm gonna build a daydream, woah, I'm gonna see it through,
Gonna build a mountain and a daydream,
Gonna make 'em both come true.
I wanna build a heaven, as a will someday,
And the Lord sends Ga-bri-el to take me away.
I wanna fine young son, to take my place.
I'll leave my son in my heaven on earth, with the good Lord's grace.
I wanna fine young son, yeah, to take my place.
I'll leave my son in my heaven on earth, with the good Lord's grace.
Yea-eah!


2004-06-30 12:39:00
Anyone get the license plate number of that truck?
Who knew you could see so clearly with carpet in your eyes? Or in your mouth, your nose, your ears...
So, I'm not dead anymore, but just barely alive. I reached phase five. Reached? More like ran headfirst into it. Anyway, bitter old manhood achieved. Many thanks to my agent, my director, my fans, but most of all to my hairdresser and my rock, Ricardo. I couldn't have done it without you.
Next on the agenda, getting sober, followed by getting drunk later that night, which comes right before getting sick and passing out, which precedes being hungover, at which point I make a serious, no-fooling effort to get clean. Right before I fall off the wagon. This is followed by kicking and promising myself to try my best not to be a douche bag anymore, and goshdarnit, people like me.
So, how are you?


2004-06-06 07:35:00
Apologies to Gen and Watts for acting like a major dick last night. That demon alcohol will get me into trouble every time. But that's no excuse, someone should have kicked my ass.
For what it's worth, you ARE the man.


2004-05-18 16:52:00
It was pointed out to me that The Odd Couple's Felix Unger, Tony Randall, has died. I have to give props to Tony. Because of his foppishness, some people thought he was gay. But the guy fathered two children starting at the ripe old age of 77. That's what I plan to do, and for that, I salute him.
Speaking of dead guys, I went to the Andy Kaufman thing at the House of Blues, and he didn't show. Didn't expect him to, but it was still a cool evening. If I don't become Tony Randall when I'm older, I'll be Tony Clifton. The only part I didn't like was avoiding Andy Dick. The guy is and will always be in love with Manson, so he thinks standing close to me at the urinals brings him closer to god somehow. Well, in a way he was...ahem.
I know this posting twice in one month is shocking, but don't overdo it and start faking heart attacks, ok, wiseguys? I guess I'm just in a really good mood over this lawsuit against Scott. I'm already practicing my affidavit and laying out my best suit, trying to see which tie most says, "GIVE ME MY MONEY, YOU BASTARD!"
This is going to be a great summer.


2004-03-31 10:16:00
Name Your Passion
Daddy always brings me the best toys. Wait a sec, I think I am daddy's best toy. "Hey, everyone. Let's pump Pogo full of nitrous oxide, spin him around a few times, and see if he can drill through walls with his head."
Yes, in case you were wondering.
So. The first kings of France, the Merovingians... yeah yeah they were the first to unify the kingdom, establish the rules of the Holy Roman Empire and of course there was that Papal dominus ominus from when El Papa thought they were descendants of the big J and Mary Magdalen ... which kind of explains why the Knights Templar wanted to control Jerusalem doesn't it? I mean, it would've been theirs. Now, the Knights Templar were the guardians of the grail which comes from the French word Sangreal which could be translated as royal blood and well, Christ blood... Ok, that's kind of sketchy in terms of proof but ...
Ok, I just really want to see some dude make a film about Brat O' The Christ so somebody will accidentally ask me about religion again. For now, I need to be rolling leaves into small pieces of paper before something bad happens.


2004-03-16 11:34:00
I was trying to make it an even fortnight, but I figured the mature thing would be to come home and get sober--before the St. Patrick's Day festivities, that is. I decided to check out New York for awhile, and it seemed like a good time to go.
Wait, did I say come home and get sober? I must be getting old.
I guess we'd have to go back to where I've been. Pogo Day started out with pre-birthday pancakes with Gina, which was a perfect way to kick things off. If I haven't mentioned it before, IHOP is the most perfect place on earth. You can basically sit in a booth shoveling endless varieties of food and downing bottomless pots of coffee for hours--correction, days--on end and no one so much as gives you an evil glare. It's heaven and nothing compares. Granted, there are a few other coffee shops around LA that hold some charm, simply because they seem to exist in a different time period than the rest of the city. If you've ever seen the movie Mildred Pierce with Joan Crawford, they're a lot like the place she ran in the movie. And I dare say the waitresses in these places probably started working there about the time that movie first came out. But they're all really cool and they shuffle around in their little uniforms with their aprons and thick rubber soled shoes. You won't get the bottomless pot of coffee, but you will get chicken and pie like you've never had. I don't know if they serve anything else to tell you the truth. I've only seen anyone order chicken and pie at these spots.
Anyway, pancakes. I believe I talked Gina's ear off about this very subject, not to mention a dozen others while I stole from her stack of buttermilks. We'll have to do it again soon.
From there, I went to Florida without the missus as she had a small puncture in her head and while she would have fit into the overhead bins more easily, I figured the constant blowing into her rubbery skull to keep her upright might slow me down a bit. So, I hit Gein's opening, sincerely oohed and ahhed over his paintings, and promptly hit the bar.
After leaving the party, I bumped into an old friend from school named Craig Donner, affectionately known as Craig Donut because he has the deepest belly button known to man. Seriously, you can put your fist into it up to your bicep and poke someone standing behind him. Turns out, Craig works for IHOP...No, wait, I just imagined that. Craig works for NASA. So, we got a few beers and a lot of weed and headed back to his house, where he desperately tried to convince me that Jeri Ryan is the hottest woman alive by proceeding to show me his entire Jeri Ryan filmography collection. She's cute. Meanwhile, I spent the time rewiring Craig's kitchen appliances. He now has a dishwasher than can cook a turkey in 20 minutes. Poached turkey, but still turkey.
And that brings us to day three of Pogo Day, which I'll continue later due to my sudden craving for turkey