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I am currently dry heaving in beautiful Seattle. I mean to post from here but instead got sick. Hopefully recovery is imminent and I'll keep your asses afixed with glorious shots of the Space Needle, the Science Fiction Hall of Fame, and rain.

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Soon to be wreaking unseen havoc. For real, I always belonged to that select group of cats that wanted to be known but never seen. Also, the term "metamaterial" has smashed my brainpiece.

Last nite I stayed up until 5:30. Ain't done that in some time, and it was pretty fuckin' fun. Aalau intro'd me to OM, which was mighty kind of him. I'd heard of this doomantra
duo before, and Danno rocked me with some o' the related reefercore of Sleep a couple years back. Still, powerful throbs to experience as you are drained out and looking to hide from the impending sunrise. Kindly Mssr. A. also sent me packin with a stack of sweet new listening, which I have yet to dig into. But soon...

Timing is everythink

Some days you just feel like you oughta leave work half an hour early. Some days that turns out to mean you get home 2 minutes before the sun is devoured and the torrent comes down. SWANK 'N DRY. For those days, there's red wine and steaks.

Get Weary. Get Gone.

So 11 hour workdays are fine and dandy -- UNLESS you find out yr boss wanted something "a little different" than what you just spend all that time on. SHEEIT, dude. Communication. Whatever, we trod on. Tomorrow is bachelor party insanity, tonight I'm heading out to the Weary Traveler for some mind-balm. I even get a ride! Thanx, car-folk.

Slomo

"Isn't this from 36 Chambers?"

Posse cuts were all the rage at last nite's rooftop xtravaganja. The threat of rain was unheeded, and the rain clouds knew not to step to us as deep as we were.

Don't even tell me it's gonna rain...

Like, woah. Welcome to the middle of what I think is gonna turn out to be a 6 day bender. And what better halfway point than 71, sunny, and listening to Boris' Pink? No better way, methinks. Motor-psycho guitar, indeed.

I have proved to myself that I can take 9 drinks on a stomach of lil' smokys and still awaken and run 4 miles the next day. I'm some kinda awesome, that's me...

So yeah, I'm just burnin' up some tunes to lug with some Red Stripe and Oberon over to the seasons first and last roof party at Dan and Moriah's. Yup, were gonna miss 'em but now we have an excuse to go to Minneapolis. We always liked Minneapolis... saw some good shows there, and even went to Wrestlemania back when Jesse Ventura was governor and made a guest appearance as ref. It was then that I realized government was a complete mockery and all forms of activism, participation, or caring are simply "buying into the hype". It's all rigged! Duh!

So yeah, off for more drinking. Today I've gotta train hard because apparently tomorrow's chosen event will consist primarily of tequila. Woof. Well, what are Sundays for?

As I wait for my Lime Shrimp Ramen (caps most req'd; this shit be official)... I just wanted to say thanx to all the monkey sexxx talk the interweb is spewing, I can't get my mind out of the gutter. That's right. I wan't bananas.

Unfortunately, them yellow phalluses (phalli?) are not to be had at the momento, but I press on. Which is harder than it sounds, 'cause I ain't done dishes in 'round a week and the entire sink smells like the Oldest Spongebath Known To Man. I've gotta touch this tomorrow or we'll all regret it.

Other than that, what's up? Happy hour at the Opus = new staple? Who knowz... but they have the Dark and Stormies I crave.

Yes, I am listening to Jeck once again. Time for bed, tho'.

Ghostpaste

Ghostface takes out the AV Club. Awesome.

Today we glimpsed sunlight. Forecast is a shiny new tomorrow... I'm buying dub compilations, a sixer of ginger beer, some Myer's and lime and mixing up dark and stormies. That way, if it winds up raining anyways I can sequester myself on the porch and pretend I'm an ol' sea dog waitin' out th' storm.

Not being in class means I drink a bit every day. While I was at the folks' place this past weekend I came upon some Elijah Craig. Shit was off the chain. Sipping that and flipping between Mythbusters and MTV's Parental Control must have been what it feels like to be Paul McCartney update: apparently motherfucker is getting divorced, so I'm gonna go with a sure-to-be-much-happier-at-the-moment Mick Jagger. Except did you see him on the Superbowl? Shit was kinda played, but I guess better than Wings.

Damnp

It's been damp and drizzly for something like 6 or 7 days straight, with no letup in sight. This can only mean it is time to fully submerge oneself in a batch of slo-drone and book-slouch. I've retired to the couch, too lazy to shed my dampankle jeans, allowing the sidewalk sweat to truly soak into my puffy white calves. Philip Jeck has been kind to me, I've been listening to Surf at least once a day. Dusty to battle the damp. I likes it.

Other than that, raga-ish sides have brought me much pleasue. Pandit Pran Nath's Midnight, Richard Metzger's Four Improvisations, pretty much everything in my Matt Valentine-related stock... it all soaks me plenty, so the outdoors don't get to.

I've also given up the smokes. It's beeen 6 days going now, though I did submit to a couple drags offa a friend's two nights back. To anyone going the cold turkey route, I feel ya.

Okay, well... yeah, I'm back. Big plans. Keep peeled in the eye-area.

Reburn

Regular updates to resume once I remember how to talk.

And so, it will end...

Classes are over. I've got a lab report, 2 finals, and some brief essays to write and that's all. The relief is gushing into my system. Hope! Life! Rejuvenation! It's like a Christian rock station or something. Sappy. Oppressive.

I found out yesterday that our family cat, Kamir, passed. Kamir was the most affectionate cat I've ever had the pleasure of knowing, and he and I were best buds throughout high school. Every time I'd go home in college, one of the things I looked forward to the most was straight chilling on the couch with him all curled up and passed out. He was kind of lazy like that, but that's why he ruled. Kamir, I'm gonna miss you. I don't really think it'll hit me until I go home next week and he's not around. RIP buddy.

Anyways, I must finish the rest of this class stuff and then be on with my merry summer. I'm out.

Churn

In 30 minutes I will be watching and waiting to present my portion of possibly the most absurdist liquid fuels production facility in the world.



At least I am wearing a tie.

Warmytimes

I've replenished a good deal of sanity thanx much to a certain few folks certain, urrr, *thingz* that are good for you. It's some kinda renaissance with some *thingz* here in the here, I've gotta say you. Brillllllliant.

Tomorrow I have to give a PowerPoint presentation. Isn't this kinda thing fucking dead yet? If I didn't have 2 pardners counting on me, I'd certainly just use some of David Byrne's PP art that I read in Wired back before it jumped the shark and stuff.

Speaking of Byrne, that jawn he dropped back in the day w/ Eno, "My Life in the Bush of Ghosts", which just got reissued some weeks back, is the jam of the momento. It dug thru the clouds during my walkabouts yesterday, and I recommend it to somebody in particular.

FragRant

End-of-semester selfblasting commences 6days.

Suffice to say, edgy and crisped ChemE's are the most boring riot you will never see.

Grocerytime!