red light assface

it seems like i got EVERY fucking don't walk sign this morning. and now that i have a long-ass walk from the montgomery bart stop (at market and mont.) all the way up monty to north beach near coit tower. fuckin shit, man. doesn't help i have a still-broken toe that needs mending.
yo yo yo.
but i did it, i did it, i rise , i RISE, like maya angelou and shit.
fuzzle.
lessee, last night was adult, i am spoonbender, and the faint at bimbo's. it was a fine fine show of electro mania. adult was adult. flat, not much of a stage presence, but damn, those oh-so-ironic art school songs. lovely lovely. we all decided however, they are probably a better band to listen to at home.
spoonbender, conversely, has been practicing for like three months straight and pumped out a hell of a performance. it was obvious they've been practicing based on how fluid it was. awesome trippy visuals from the early 80s seamlessly aligned with the music. amazing. they're this weird mix of electro, hard rock, indie pop and i don't know what else. they're good though.
the lead vocalists, cup and dustin (who is from kalamazoo, mich. and used to be the drummer for Thought Industry back in the day) sing into telephones, though i got the scoop and found out they added nicer microphones to the phones.
and then i talked to herbie hancock yesterday, who was the coolest cat ever. so nice, so genuine and honest. i have absolutely no complaints about the gentleman.
well, i must return to my studies. i'm hoping to figure out the racist tendencies of the south american jungle rat. it's a very good topic.
love me don't love others.
be aloof,

your partner of mammalian sights,

Elmer Puto