walking up the surprisingly steep (it doesn't look like it) hill that is the tiny alleyway/street next to our building on osgood place, i just noticed the same black gentleman that is always sleeping in the same doorway. he seems to have found a really cool place to hang his hat. at least the people aren't assholes and making him move.

anyway, i was expecting the wave of b.o. but i didn't get it. at least, not right away.

there was a delayed stench.

very odd.

before that, while walking back from this exhibit at 1 market on 9/11 (lifesize portraits of people that helped out at the scene or had a firefighting relative or other type of helper person, taken with this giant polaroid-like film - it was quite intense and well worth seeing) and thinking about all the shit that happened with that, i hear this guy totally wailing on his horn and i come up and see that the guy is a taxi driver . then i see this woman walking toward me (on sansome, i believe) coming out of a law firm hurriedly. she gets into her big suv, which is blocking the taxi driver in this alleyway and he's like "are you deaf? what the fuck took you so long? let's move along!" and she's all apologetic and shit...so he's still yelling and she moves the car by turning onto sansome and pulls into a spot.
meanwhile the taxi has pulled up alongside her and is continuing to deride her. i was like "jesus dude, chill the fuck out."
funny thing was he didn't even have a fare. he was by himself.
like chill the fuck out yo.

just made me think back to how humanity can be so loving and caring toward others and then be so damn callous, rude and mean.
why are we so mean to each other? what is wrong with us? just idealistic bullshit running through my mind when i should be doing my work.
but damn, this is important.
i also have an email i sent to mikey earlier today that i need to snag before i forget, talking about nakedness and stuff and humanity.
more idealistic fun.

oh and yesh, i still have to tell about me little run-in with indie boy.

but later.
more work work work
yo.
annum

love,
satanic deadweight

back when i was dead, i used to call people out when they stunk.
i can't do that anymore, now that i'm alive.

are you a monkey?

yeah, i didn't include the shoving sequence but i twill.
too much work to be done.

you're the man now dog.

from "finding forrester." yay.

there was an earthquake last night. i did not feel it. dammit.
pudgy works.

twas a fucked up thing friday night at the cat club in SF.
yo and behold and jocka me a can of milk, i was feeling fiesty, so damn if people that fucked with me and my woman were gonna do me wrong. no suh!
no suh no how!
sheeit, that is NOT the way we do, you see.
this is the SECOND time in the last few weeks i've had to take matters into the physical realm and take some charge of the situation.
so, while part of me is going, "damn, i can't believe i did that shit," part of me is also damn happy that i didn't back down or do anything stupid.

so yeah, you're probably going "fucking a dude, tell the story."
come on pardner, you know it's all about the children.
don't you forget what the children always say to me too.
they say "tim, you are not the son of david bowie."

i know, i know.
things could have turned out a lot different for me if i would have been born david jones jr.
but alas, my genes ain't gonna be it.

when it's time to change, you've got to rearrange.
who you are and what you wanna be.
sha na na na na na, sha na na na na.

i think i'm the only boy in america whose dealer actually calls me to tell me he/she's going to be out of town for the weekend but that she/he's significant other will be available for any needs that may arise.

fucking wicked central man!

i am unshaven today.
which is funny, considering i'm looking at the cover of the new Pulse magazine (not an especially good periodical, mind you), with Weezer's Rivers Cuomo staring back at me. he has the WORST beard i think i've ever seen on almost any human.

or as tina calls them, a "face friend."
(should that be one word or two? or is it hypenated?)

there's too much cream cheese on my bagel. i don't like that.

i can't remember when so many people were on the street talking about a movie like people are talking about "spiderman." there's a definite real buzz among, well, humans about this film.
obviously the general populace is stoked on this, as it broke all sorts of crazy box office records, taking in fucking $114 million in one single weekend. that's pretty amazing.
damn.

but back to rivers cuomo.
his beard is horrifying.
it looks so fake, you know it's real.
if that makes any sense.
the phone is ringing, oh my gawd.

backed up charlie bucket is mad as hell.
punch your face inside wet box.

love,

turgid crafter

Fuck the Jackson 5.
They're so overrated.

and everybody in Gen X seems to have this wistful longing for the Jackson 5, when Michael was still black.

Fuck David Ogden Stiers

it's amazing how much disdain i have for rock-based songs, especially the squealing guitar solo.
all the squalor seems so pointless and boring.
and really it is.
and this coming from a guy who used to have posters of eddie van halen, led zeppelin, motley crue, ratt and other guitar heroes.
rock is dead.

the set on friday with jay t. and ouchy went very well. i must say. and i do.
fudge.

i have to pee very very badly.
look for answers in your mirror.