Even and odd Flow

Rock stars are the only people that can get away with spitting on others and escape serious injury. Usually.
But if you start throwing bottles, that's a different story.
i mean, remember sebastian bach? god help you if you do. god needs to help me more because i do remember that annoying mother fucker (who was rumored to be recording an album with the former members of guns n roses, which sucks cuz that'll legitimize him for another few years).
he threw bottles at people in the crowd. they sued his ass.

i think of all this because for some reason, i decided to watch the footage from the Pearl Jam show shot at the House of Blues in Orlando Saturday night...maybe it's because my damn Real ONE Player is super annoying and leaves these "messages" for you on your desktop telling you about them too.
just what we need, more distractions.
but i digress ......heh.
i watched it, probably also because i used to be a fan back in the day ("ten" and "vs" - early '90s) when it was cool and stuff. And I was curious to see what they were up to these days.
though probably more than anything, my curiousity was piqued by the recent controversy surrounding Eddie Vedder's comments about Bush and the war at a show in Denver recently.

i watched about two thirds of it...well, watched is a strong word...i was at work and busy doing something else that wasn't requiring me to be on the computer much. so i was more listening and half watching....inbetween the countless times it lost the connection....that's always a fun time...stopping and starting every minute.

Eddie vedder still looks odd with short hair. He's one person that should keep his hair long. short hair just doesn't look right on his head, which is pretty large in diameter.
it would seem anyway.
i thought some of the songs were good, some just ok...i mean, i haven't seen them in many many years so it's hard to compare them today with where they were probably eight years ago. my god man.
i still have to see the encores tomorrow, since the show is only up for 24 hours on real network. still, a cool idea despite all the glitches. i so rarely ever watch any kind of show on the web because they're usually quite tempermental.
whatev's.
eddie vedder has a bulbous head.
makes me think of the time we saw his solo performance back at the ill-fated tibetan freedom concert at alpine valley, wis.
yessir i tell you what.


anyway, this all goes back to my first thought of rock stars being able to spit on people. ol' eddie was throwing out some sort of attitude or some shit...who knows...and spit out a big thing of whatever he was drinking, probably water....such a rockstar thing to do. funny.
cuz, i know i would never want somebody so spit shit on me and i would avoid it at all costs if possible.
i mean, i've been spit on before. it's true.
going to concerts for more than half my life (christ), it's inevitable.
fucking spittle.
it's all bullshit.
they should suffer, the spitters.
i spit probably too much but i do it on the ground, where it's a better place to make such a deposit.
don't you know?
yes, you know.
you know all right.
grandma never knew about that.
maybe we should get the spittoon from ol' granny.
at least for the naval shipyards.

if somebody took a big gulp of drink at the mall, even if he/she was cute/hot/ready to fuck you, the spitting thing on your head and face just wouldn't cut it. you'd be back home shoveling shit in the hog pen with grandpa don.
and fuck that noise.
being on a stage allows you some certain additional unalienable rights. they're in the constitution, and stuff.
yep.
chuck daly is still alive.

at least you have penny antes today.
no more spitting.
i only like errant bras on the sidewalk from now on.

i found a quarter today. shiny and new.
i used that quarter on the bart when i was forced at gunpoint to add fare to my card, that i had found on the sidewalk last week, also on 16th street in the lovely city of san francisco, you know the one....

my lids are getting heavy. i best be getting some shuteye.
look for me at the kilgore lodge.

i'll be wearing a duck's vest, blood red trousers and a bib tied around my man-breasts for optimum viewing pleasure.

oh my god!
that just reminded me of a funny thing that happened to me in the elevator today coming back from lunch.
i was nude of course.

no seriously, i was being my normal introspective self, looking like i was super engrossed with the Entertainment Weekly i was reading (yeah, aren't i impressive?) and this mom and her teenage daughter were standing waiting for the elevator in my building. now, the elevator isn't exactly easy to find...it's not right in front of the main door, but around a corner, so they had obviously been there before.
they were talking back and forth regarding how the girl looked (she was probably 16 or 17, high school, tall, thin, brunette, white) and her mom whispers to her that her "headlights are on."
"i can't help it, it's cold," the daughter says. but then adds "i think they look better that way." and the mom agrees, though i can't remember the exact response.
and i'm the only one standing there. in fact, we were not more than a few feet from each other.
i could tell, as you often can when you're pretending to read but really eavesdropping, that the girl was doing the occasional look over at me to see if i was reacting to what they were saying and...seeing if i was paying attention.
i don't know how to respond to that. do i make it known that "hey, i know what's going on."
do i do the quick glance (which i did) purely for curiousity's sake, a sizing up, if you will, that everyone does to each other when walking in the city, and especially when on public transportation. i must look safe because people always sit next to me.
today it was a large black man, 2-3 times my size. then again, i'm not that big.

but i digress...

the funniest part was once we got inside the elevator, which moves incredibly slow (it's a freight elevator that's been converted to a people elevator too, probably to meet building codes), they continued talking but at a subdued whisper again. like, standing a few feet away from me in an enclosed space and i'm not going to hear the whispering. it was hilarious. unfortunately, nothing as titillating as the "headlights" comment but it definitely piqued my interest.

but you know, as people with scanners have told me, the large bulk of conversation is pointless drivel but once in a while you overhear some steaming hot sexual shit. and that's when it's time to get worked up.
work it.
you betta work.
my cup runneth over.

dirt is better than silk.
sookie sookie now.

chastened by betrayal,

Evan Bayh