back to the matter at hand...
"Groove Salad" from soma.fm, on da web (www.somafm - pri.kts-af.net/redir/index.pls)
it's cold, it's 3:15 a.m., it's raining outside...again....i'm drinking a coke out of a can....my hands are even cold....i need to sleep...i'm fighting in my head about whether or not i should call beano back and go to some party that's "five miles from our house on Grand" in Oakland.
yeah...yeah...so part of me is saying "go go go go" and then there's the part of me that's saying "stay stay stay stay," be responsible, get your work done, yessir be a responsible citizen.
yadda. so here i am, being the proctrastinator that i am and, by doing so, eliminate the slight urge to leave the house. i mean, beano called me at about 1:30, it's now 3:18 and a while since he called. he has an extra ticket, sure, and it's only five miles from our home, but dammit, jim, it�s hard to be a cowboy in Mississippi.
Especially when you�ve had enough of women and children taking over your land.
For this land is your land and it�s made for you and me.
Yeah, maybe, but not just yet. The beginning hasn�t started, not just yet.
I just spent the last four minutes trolling through several fonts, not really happy with any of them. Why am I so obsessed with the fonts I use to write with? I never seem to settle on one I like, fucking a.
Many things to talk about,oooohhhh so manythings.
You understand, busy time of late. You understand, busy time.
Preoccupied time. Wasting time. All time time time. Me love to shed time. So much fun. Still waiting for something to happen. Time time timmy timmy time time.
Good gracious, Mooolly, what shall we do?
Grandma, you would have been proud of my spaghetti I ate all by myself that one time. Sure, I was not standing upright, but dammit, I did it.
People are happy for that kind of thing, you know.
At least, where I come from. Those parts, damn, they something.
Don�t look now.
But things aren�t still happening.
Basically, it�s like this. Scored a gee-that�s-kind-of-cool-thing-from-a-pop-culture-standpoint by hanging near the lovely actress Clare Danes (you remember �My So-Called Life� don�t you? Oh my god? Have you been beheaded? Good.) Ol� Clare, I spotted her first as she sauntered up to the long as hell female bathroom line at 330 Ritch in SF Friday FRiday Friday Friday night. In case you weren�t sure on which day it was. First, I see her, we lock eyes, we stare into each other�s souls and weep for joy�at last, our moment has come. Alas, that moment is merely, uh, a, um, moment or two, and then she turns around and gets in line.
Clare is small. Smaller than I would have guessed. But then again, all stars are small, right? Hell, I heard John Wayne was 4 feet eleven. Kick ASS! Love that fucker, Marion.
As I was talking before I was rudely interrupted by myself�Clare is TINY and, as ms. Tina B noted, she also has a small and pointy ass. It was quite alarming.
I had to sit down on the floor in the middle of the crowd and catch a breather or 63 before I was able to face the reality of my surroundings.
Ms. Tina B walked outta the bathroom and I pulled her aside to let her in on my find.
�I think I�ve spotted Clare Danes! Whadda say you walk back that way and you check it out.�
�Hmmm, I had better go first to avoid suspicion,� replied the eagled-eye ms. Tina B.
So she did, hat and all, sidestepping on the slow tip past the potential star of the feature film �The Mod Squad.�
I also get another peek. We lock eyes again. Our lips become one in the cosmos. Somewhere, a man gets pushed down a flight of stairs for uttering such madness.
Damn, then she brushes her goldie locks back over her face. She�s like the wind, moving on.
Tina B gives me the high sign after we do our pass.
�I think you are right in that we have one Clare Danes kicking it live and fucking shit up over yonder, hanging with the homegirls on line for the tinkle palace,� Tina stated. �Yo, shit, fucking A. Damn. I liked her better when she had long red hair and was hanging with Ducky and that Jared Leto kid she wanted to bang. Those days are on the DL.�
�Yes, Ms. B, you are correct,� I replied. �You are very alert. Thank you for your confirmation. Would you care for a cocktail? Tea? Oboe?�
�No thanks, timmmiP. But you go ahead. Ah, oh wait, we should go the other way. Less people. Back by Clare. Whatcha say, mister?� she said.
And so we did. And then we went and found our right ful place in the crowd. We hooked up with some pals I know from xlr8r, where I was earlier Friday. Gee, these things do make the heart go atwingle.
(it�s raining harder now)
When we first strolled up in the piece, we were thinking we were going to be in for the long haul or not at all, but thankfully, I was on the guestlist, we skipped the line and strolled up to be greeted by Dan the Automator spinning hip-hop.
But by the time we were dancefloor, after the Clare sighting and kicking it with xlr8r kidz, the Avalanches were on the stage, throwing down a very very strange mix that encompassed everything from The police to Daft Punk to the Jackson 5 to Bob Dylan to Adult to the Avalanches to DJ Rolando to Jay-Z�you get the idea. Everything. On the TVs everywhere was playing old Sid and Marty Kroft favorites like �Pryor�s Place� (see Richard Pryor be extra high and teach kids about life lessons!), �Land Of The Lost,� and a couple other puzzlers such as Bob Denver and this other dude being repairmen and they get into some sort of mischief; and some story involving Jim Nabors and Ruth Buzzi as persons in spacesuits while arguing with cavemen. Very odd.
Well, as it turns out Clare is in town with Australian would-be folk/hipster singer Ben Lee, her boy toy. Did I mention how small Clare was? I did.
While grooving along to the zounds of two kids from the Australian group The Avalanches, there were Clare, frizzy-haired Ben, and their little entourage that also included Dan The Automator (he�s a large fellow) and some dumb chick hanging on him.
Yep, they were grooving all over that dancefloor, yo. Clare was rocking out.
Funny, one guy said to his friend after the pair left �Dude, Clare dances good~!� Yes, yes. Sort of.
We departed from the establishment about 10 minutes later, having our fill of highly eclectic dj set performed with a sometimes awkward viewpoint.
Jesus, there�s so much more. But I must sleep. I have much to do and little to see and someone to spank America.
Won�t you join me again soon?
I have to tell you about the hookas, the gorgeous film Amelie and my concerns with public restrooms and how they�ll affect my pocketbook.
Eat back hair tuna salad.
Sporkingly your mammal,