Wednesday, September 28, 2005

The Mackinaw's Are On

Microwave burritos done right. If I die of a heart attack, this will be the cause.

Anyway, it's the weekend now and I don't have a thing to do but wallow in splendor for four days. I just stepped out to the quicky mart a few minutes ago for a cup-a-joe. The stereo was playing Bob Dylan's 'Drifters Escape.' It caused me to reflect on my years. The first Bob Dylan record I ever heard was Highway 61 Revisited. I was about 10 years old. I sat down and wrote some dada nonsense Dylan type lyrics. My brother thought they were a riot. At that time I was alternating between Dylan, who I thought had the funniest hairdo, and Frank Zappa, because he sang a song about vegetables. That caught my interest, as my favorite record just before my brother-induced epiphany was a childrens record called 'The Carrot Seed.' So, what the hell happened. Maybe if my parents had bought me that white Stratocaster I wanted when I was 12, instead of a trombone. Thank God for those men or I'd probably be a Mormon Bishop right now. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

I think it's time for a motorcycle ride.

Saturday, September 24, 2005

C'mere Ma, The Hogs'a Got Me!

This is film can of 30 year old marijuana seeds that I found while cleaning The Garage. They're of no threat to anyone, least of all yourself. So stop worrying about 'menaces to navigation' and too much coriander in the rub.

Friday, September 23, 2005

Mind Gone Haywire

this is an audio post - click to play

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

Skeleton Makes Good

I cleaned my garage a while back. This was an effort that should be sung the praises of not unlike Hercules cleaning the stables of Rome. Or was it Greece. Now comes the weeding out of "things that I don't really need." It's going to be tough. There's my vintage Navy Bureau of Ships head set, the box of National Lampoons from 30 years ago. I was a big fan of Underwear For The Deaf. What's the point? Don't let your stuff pile up.

Yea yea, the house needs to be painted. Tell me something I don't know.