Friday, April 26, 2002

aching for snatch

in this time of struggle, where is club nouveau when you really need them?

hogan's heroes was never funny.
in fact, it sucked.

richard dawson's main claim to acting fame.
yes, i know he did family feud.

vast conspiracy awaits you.

elephant breath.

my coffee is empty.

anybody see the trailer for 'scooby doo?'
now THAT looks like a fine feature film.
it might be as good as "glitter" or "al queda boy go home"

shake your moneywaster, beckett.

smell me.
i'm famous.

today is arbor day. do you know where your children are?
do you know where your childless cabin is?

have to tell you i'm going to be working with Jonah Sharp as the potential new editorial director for his label called Prototracks.
not paid as of right now, but the opportunities are incredible. i'll be in charge of all the editorial copy that goes into the cd, which come out bimonthly. it's kind of like what CMJ does, releases a cd each month of underground material...i should say, what they USED to do. they suck now. anyway, this would be all underground labels from all over the world. i'll be working with jonah on figuring out how the bands and labels would be profiled and represented in the booklet. i'm in charge of either writing and/or editing (there's going to be like three contributing writers, and i'll probably write some too). basically, there's like 12 or so tracks, each artist getting a 150-word profile, as well as each label represented getting a 150-word profile. and any intros that have to be written.
this could be huge visibility for me AROUND THE WORLD and help me make even more contacts. this will also help me in my writing career, as i'll have an inside track to forthcoming electronic music. and of course, this also helps my dj career as well, since i'll be able to receive all this music months in advance.
things ARE happening.

i "won" a free ticket to groove armada last night. i "won" via nitevibe, the site i wrote a WMC story about and also who i went with for the group rate on my ticket.

groove armada was kind of a sham. they advertised it as them being live with a 9-piece band. instead, they DJed, with ONE live player on fucking bongos.
luckily, many from the miami nitevibe crew were there, so i had fun anyway. in fact --- in yet another thing i could conceivably do -- Sam from Nitevibe wants to get together to talk about doing some editorial work for them...but paid. i told him i have an intense schedule but it'd be more just random shit...which i like to do anyway, like making fun of shows where they advertise a 9-piece band and it's two gawky brits spinning records for $35 a head.

and yes, the crowd was pretty much appalling. there were times i wanted to stab forks in the eyes of some of the lovely folk there but of course, i would never engage in such violent behavior.
i can dream, though.
this one hippie turd bumped into my head like three times. first time, i gave the "it's ok" nod; second time, just a glare; third time, i said "dude, will you fucking watch your hands? you've hit me in the head three times!" he did his hippie shrug, as if "i'm just here swinging my arms around having fun. aren't you?"
then he stepped on my foot, so i did the random elbow to the chest and got him pretty good.

then he stepped on this little asian girl's foot next to me and she looked like she wanted to split his head in two with a machete. at this point, pretty much everyone around him wanted that. then she called him a "stupid hippie motherfucker."
i would have bet that if hippie boy would have collapsed on the ground and started convulsing at that time, nobody would have helped him.

speaking of turds, the most telling thing about groove armada was the stench.
seriously, somebody kept on farting at the show and you could smell it everywhere. definite stink-ass. like, it was so bad, people were visbily gagging. no it wasn't me.
and it was the same stench.

but i stink now.

naked beckum

today, lisa left eye lopes died.
don't go chasing waterfalls, please stick to the rivers and the lakes like you used to.

does this mean the TLC reunion album is still going to happen?

now the group will be known as TC.

at least i'm available for questioning.

good afternoon.

your crime-ridden neighborhood,

Tuesday, April 23, 2002

jesus christ on a haystick,
do you need pampers or what?
hong kong phooey never went out like this.
he was a super bad ass with kung fu powers yo.
learn how to not do something, by genius of the hour, mr. tim pratt.
one must be super fucking wacky to do such damage to oneself.
but it's all for the greater good, isn't that right mr. pratt?

do damage, yes sir, no sir, buckle that tongue sir.

this morning, being yesterday morning at this point and time and drivel,
i was not enjoying things.
i was hung over.
from puking horribly sunday evening
at pippi and toad's domicile.
which sucked. you know?
come on now
don't you get it?
see sunday morning started the whole crazy rollercoaster ride, sammy jargon.
which reminds me, i need to ensure that tina takes a picture of that sign by her work.
grandma used to tell me stories before i was a chalk.
caulk sucks.

oh yeah, troika is on my lap. no wonder i feel strange.
could be the poison ivy. and certainly not the movie starring drew barrymore.
though, yessss.
sunday morning, twin peaks time, after staying at bruce's, on the night that didn't come together, the unhappy mind trip and all those crazy years back on the farm.
hopping down the lane, looking for hangnails in all the right faces.
not that there were any faces on that wonderful lane.
dessert is never quite as good.
must concentrate and write fast, you can do eeet.
also, hit the coit tower scene, which was mighty fine.
nice, just like the guy with the handlebar moustache.
extinction sucks. he liked that. as well as tina's shoes.

praise be to grandma.
listen up close you sansibar.
i m going back to feed my monkey shine.

long live david helfgot.

right now i'm listening to, for the first time, the Railway Raver "Keith's Trumpets"
off of the Rephlex Braindance sampler.

must stop the timebomb.
start the healing.
heal thyself.
stop and stob the hurting.

man that how weird street fair sucked my butt.
just what i want, hippies celebrating nothing. ooh, neat, you sell crafts too?
long live bob weir.

fuck that prick that won in france too.
and fuck the israeli army for going way too fucking far in this bullshit war for land rights at jenin.
tis all for nothing.
so sad.

nobody wins when everybody dies.

other good quote:
"as long as i have sauce to dip it in, i'm halfway home."

everybody is intrigued by Helga.







love your facial hair,
basic decision maker human

Friday, April 19, 2002

flip flops are becoming too popular right now.
and why is that?
it's not that warm.

it's very loud outside. i need a deodorizer.
i need warm milk and supple water tanks.

the ambient show last night with steve roach and ambient temple of imagination was top notch. so soothing and relaxing, i nearly had to dance on the ceiling like lionel richie.
fortunately, i pushed him off a cliff two hours ago.
let's hope he won't be dancing ever again.

i also killed a spider before. will i go to heimlich because of it?
need to find music.
major minor colonial colonel.

baker's dozen.
tomorrow is 4/20. do you know where the kind is?
love your maker.

don ob

Tuesday, April 16, 2002

clothing balderdash

isn't it odd how much clothing makes a difference on how you perceive people?
i was thinking about that this morning as i walked up Montgomery to my work in North Beach.
I see all these women in various states of dress, some women in their business suits looking sharp and ON IT. others a bit more haphazard and definitely not ON IT. others, looking hip and cool, purposely dressing down and/or wearing clothes that say to the world "i look like i just threw this together but it actually took me an hour!"
fucked up, especially when i think about when i'm at burning man and how everybody looks pretty much the same when they're naked.
see, that's one thing i like about burning man, because you get rid of the false fronts and images and get right to the nitty gritty.
because really, after all, despite differences in weight, body shape and various other shit, we all look pretty much the same when we're naked.

It's funny, too, how when you're surrounded by men and women who are naked, you really get desensitized to it pretty quickly. yet, once you're out of that environment, your primal urge to be titillated by the beautiful visual sensation of seeing a naked woman (or man, depending on your gender and sexual interests)

i hate it when my cd skips. my cd is skipping right now. fuck.

krackle by Hershey's is an underrated candybar. it gets overshadowed by Nestle Crunch, which, IMHO, is subpar chocolate compared with Krackle. Long live Krackle.

my set on saturday went pretty well. a few bumps and bruises along the way, but overall, i was happy. of course, the biggest response i got was from the Zero 7 track. damn, people were wanting to know that one. especially the women.
i still need to find that "suuuuunnn" track vikter duplaix played in miami. i can't find it anywhere. must be a promo or some shit.
if nothing else, my set taught me some stuff about what to do and what NOT to do in the future. but i like the challenge of matching beats and keeping people on the dance floor. :)

so crazy shit, this dude drops in yesterday at my work and says he's from the production of the film "the hulk" (as in, The Incredible Hulk - the green monolith who gets angry and smashes down buildings and stuff). t

favorite seano quote from sunday: "as it turns out, there are some big differences between Hinduism and Buhddism."

i cannot stop listening to this album.
i'm listening to it right now.
it makes me feel simply wonderful.

ever heard of Ishq? I hadn't till a few days ago.
I just got this cd by Ishq on this Canadian label called InterChill (comes out in June) and it's seriously good, very emotional and moving.

so milky, floaty and ethereal, I feel like I'm submersed at the bottom of the ocean but I can breathe and this is the music swimming through my ears emanating from the mystical musicians of Atlantis.

yes, it's that good.
it has this quote from Mixmaster Morris saying it's one of the best things he's ever heard. I'd compare it to some Steve Roach stuff, as well as Pete Namlook, early Silent Records stuff and/or Kim Cascone material, such as Heavenly Music Corporation (but less beat-oriented, if that's possible). a lot of environmental sounds too (water and forest type stuff especially).
I want to melt into this music, literally.

it's by a guy named Matt Hillier from the UK (Cornwall). he's also released tracks under such names as Indigo Egg, Cyan Dragonfly, Sihq, and Izim Izam.

Saturday, April 13, 2002

crackers are an important part of your daily upbringing and destiny.
please leave your indie cred with the attendant.

sometimes i worry.
but you can't.
now that i'm so busy all the livelong day, things get a little wack.
i don't masturbate as much anymore.
i eat syrup from canada.
i yearn for a new minidisc player, new records, new computer speakers, new futon, new everything.
i don't poon farm anymore either.
jackin the bax is cracking my brick up.

Thursday, April 11, 2002

buck naked and headed for bed

i find it funny that in the particular location i'm at in my office at work, i have to wave my arm periodically during the day because the light is motion sensitive. that is, if nobody moves for like 5-10 minutes (not sure on exact time), the light turns off overhead. it's not like i'm in the dark over here, but i must say, when it first started happening, i thought somebody was fucking with me in the back.
i never talked about it to anyone, which is even funnier, but eventually was told about it when the IT guy was up here and it turned off.
saw Plaid last night. what an amazing visual show. that's how more electronic acts should do it. the visual is often just as important (especially if it enhances the music) as the aural and they did a bang-up job. i really enjoyed them, as well as Nobukazu Takemura, though his stuff is much more abstract and harder to relate to. his video was sensational, with a cutesy anime quality yet decidedly trippy and bizarre.
good time had by all.
hung with mr. jerome w., who, come to find out, is friends with a woman who is not only the same exact age as us (we are all 32), but is from Royal Oak outside detroit AND knows a longtime friend from MSU, Dennis T. once again, the interconnection of san francisco and fellow pals around the world keeps on. so fucking weird how it keeps occurring.

i've got to get my tax shit together tonight for sure. i can't be hanging out at the planet party for very long, that's for sure.
plus i've got to deal with getting my passport going since I absolutely MUST HAVE a picture ID AND call on my ticket.

plus i've got story pitches to worry about, most importantly to east bay and san jose.
send out the miss kittin cd is primary.
move the paper, do the mail - a flurry of activity for the children.
talk to raspa about my gig.
talk to byrne about what's up.
talk to cameron about hawke.
and sander.
so much to do yet

also, need to find out what i called that night in grand rapids i did.
i need to buy records. i need to finish my ann arbor story.
i need to hook up with tomas. the demf lineup is announced on friday. what will be up with that.
daily update needs an addition - something about music. i have to. it's a natural thing.
a girl in trouble is a temporary thing.


need to call grandma too.
ah, so many things to do.
yep yep yep.

also contact motormouth regarding chicago story.

i should also add a link of the day. something funny.
and crazily enough, i found out coworker mark arcenal is good pals with dj qbert.

Wednesday, April 10, 2002

yes, it's been such a long time. i am very sorry to my fans, who have likely forsaken me.
but what a week this has been!!!
my god, hanging with fila brazillia last friday night backstage.
the kick-ass set jay t. tempura spun at the burning man party sunday night.
what did i do saturday? i don't recall at this moment in time.
oh yeah, went to san jose for the red wings game. whooo boy.
boring. but fun to hang with jeff and peeps.
sunday night late really sucked ass, but we won't get into that.
and then there was the suicide on bart last night. somebody jumped in front of a train. that had to be nasty as hell. at fruitvale station, no less.
more more more, like the andrea true connection.

love, Brinov

Tuesday, April 02, 2002

shafter prison sec --- pad ped blues

hi there and let me know what i can do for you.
a baby who hasn't even been born yet won our ncaa basketball pool at work.
i'm doing an interview with her later today.
Gwen is her name.

how can an unborn child win?
the pro life camp would have a field day with this one.

and speaking of camp, i sure do look campy today. i'm wearing a western style tablecloth type tableau, checkerboard green and white...fight fight.
matching up with some stellar polyester graybeard pants.
looking special, i yam.
i hate yams.
i hate popeye the sailor man even more.

fuck popeye.

a woman just blew bubbles in the lobby for the children, everything for the children.
bubbles keep following me around.
and now i'm sucking on echinicea.
bully for me.
that's what the former drummer from superchunk told me that one night at a party: bully for you that you left the midwest, with all the sincerity of a hollywood agent.
yeah, and i hope you lose you arms in a not-so-bizarre farming accident in the high sierras. may the donner party take you away from this place.

as i waited in line at peets coffee this morning, about to enjoy a hearty beverage, i couldn't help but think about all the important things in life, such as laughing at other people in line that weren't as cool, admiring the high ratio of lesbian employees at that particular store on montgomery, and realizing that america is seeing the decline of the mocha.
nobody drinks mochas anymore. do they? nobody. people have moved on to lattes and pure espresso, as well as americanos and other type shite.
too much chocolate and too much powdered chocolate has doomed the mocha.
not even the white chocolate mocha can save the mocha.
i say fuck the mocha.
i'm going to write a story and find out the truth.
people need to know such inconsequential things.
i mean, people don't give two shits about what the us government is doing in the rest of the world as we go through phase 2 of our world domination plan.
so, let's at least write something that people will care about and argue over at the watercooler.

all right little man, you're up and i've got the bubbles still, ready to go.
actual quote just uttered.
the history of the world is forever changed.
somebody needs a lap dance - something no mother will ever say to their son.

"hey, what's the big idea."
another wonderful mommy quote.

talking about child bigness
"my guy is on the other end of the spectrum" - bubble woman

oh and finally, i saw a woman mouth "bitch" to herself after this blond woman passed really close to her.
then again, she could have been talking about someone she was thinking of.
or she could have had one of those weird cell phones with the mic on her lapel.
i hate those.
or she simply thought i was a bitch. but she wasn't looking in my direction.

someday, carrot top will get the recognition he deserves.

i'm down with butt cleavage.
i've seen the crack of others. and it was good.

"boys are not fun."

Monday, April 01, 2002

Ok, problems have been solved. life has been rewarded.
we can all move forward with our lives.
isn't that wonderful?
god bless us everyone.
jesus christ, this is like a fucking joke.
went up there YET AGAIN!! and still no luck. what is the FUCKING DEAL>>>>?
my god, how difficult can it be? does every single fucking person have to use the goddamn bathroom at the same fucking time???

and now i'm hearing "there are bubbles in the air, in the air" bubbles way up high way up high,
singing to the tune of "if you're happy and you know it, clap your hands...stomp your feet."
lovely mothers singing to their cranky babies hoping their baby WINS!
my baby rules.
angular sweatbox supreme

of course, i love to wait around in the "wait to shit" line that seems to take place here at this office.
it becomes a problem when there is ONE fucking stall for an entire 4-story building.
so every time you go in there, it's a crapshoot, so to speak.
fucking sucks.
and of course, you have to walk past everybody, so like everybody sees you and where you're going, so when you arrive back so damn quickly, you either were just blowing your nose, wanting some blow up your nose, deciding that wank-off isn't gonna fly, or you have a problem using the toilet.
whatever the case, it has to fucking end.
maybe i could install an outhouse close to here. wouldn't that be something??

FUCK! i just went up for the fourth time and i was once again denied. nothing worse than this.
ok, i have to learn to either do it right when i come in or wait till the afternoon. yeah, good luck with that one. maybe there's another bathroom on another floor. so lame, one stall.

so i managed to go through part of my set from saturday night. sounds pretty good for the most part, definitely more on the breakbeat, nu-jazz kinda vibe.
which is what i seem to be playing and listening to anyway.

My favorite moment of the night belong to Mr. Cheb I Sabbah, this tiny little guy (who was much much different than i pictured. i was thinking a tall and skinny Middle Eastern guy. instead he was older than i imagined, wearing some puffy hat) with glasses and kind of a weary vibe about him.
he goes on and immediately, he cranks up the volume. which is fine, but hello, this is a CHILL Room, and people need to be able to talk above the din.
that's part of the point.
without the chillness of the chill room, the point of it ceases to exist.
anyway, a woman had already come up and told him to turn the volume down a little bit. then this bald dude comes up and is asking cheb i to turn it down a little bit, though he added that he really liked what he was playing. when he leaned in to tell cheb i this, cheb i first feigned ignorance, like he couldn't hear what he was saying.
then, when the guy leaned in closer, ol' Cheb I freaked out and waved him away. then he shut the music off and was pointing at the bald guy, saying it was his problem for the reason the music was off. talk to him. and then wanted security.
the guy was like, look, i like what you're playing but this is a chill's a little loud.
cheb I wasn't having any of that and said "ah, don't give me any of that shit."
so meanwhile seanO was going to get security for god knows what reason and here we all are, staring at this little dude who is freaking out.
then he leans over to me and asks if it's too loud. i tell him, yes, you could probably turn it down a little bit.
but he still didn't do anything.
what a fucking crybaby.
give me a break. it's a fucking benefit.
my god.

at least i got a cool t-shirt out of the deal, with my name prominently displayed.
now Jay T. needs some cool outerwear of his own and the world will be a better place.
won't it?
love your mother.
leave the stones at home.
just a stone's throw away.

and what the fuck happened to the rolls et all clan on sunday? it went from being a surething on the weekend to being a nonthing.
he's been doing a lot of blowing off lately.

it's all messed up, isn't it?
i'm so fucking stuffed up right now. sucks.
we ate the biggest meal yesterday. went and spent big bucks to purchase some damn fine meats and related gear and cooked our shit out on the grill.
sure enough, the grill was still sitting there this morning when i left for work.
ha ha ha.
ha ha ha ha.

six feet under isn't as good this season. i'm becoming increasingly disenchanted with the whole thing. just becoming another whatever show.
yep yep yep.

suckle butt.

groove on minister farrakhan.

and stay out of the middle east. them's fightin' words.

ok, i'm going to try the bathroom (i.e. the LOO) yet again.
wish me luck, mr. man.

your servant,