sightless eyes :: american thighs

after dinner with the princess and on the way to hear her speak i heard a crush-crash and saw dan covered in glass. when it shattered i thought it was snow, a bucket of snow pouring onto dan's lap from an open window, but the window wasn't open. the glass doesn't shatter into sharp angular pieces, but little diamond rock bits to prevent godforbidthekidneystheeyesseverancecuttothecoretothebone.

after looking through my cd collection, my books, the remnants of stuff i have kept with me, you say, "why did you keep this?," "of the things to sell, why not this? why did you rid yourself of that?". i rarely have answers. i want to bare down, get rid of it all after i have read it, heard it, experienced it, memorized all the words, so then i won't need it.

after dinner i walk down ninth street and see the kitchen boys from work. they can't buy beer and still get id'd for cigarettes. i think, they're babies with a non-demeaning long "a." we walk up hitt to the store. my favorite dishwasher is leaving the states for three months to do construction work in france and spain. okay fifteen year olds, i'm going in. i buy a twelve pack as they hide in the bushes.

paddywagon

"oh, cause it's real fun to make fun of other peoples ethnic heritage."
"i just don't care about white people, okay?"

not just one of yr toys

also, to gush about ambulette a bit more ('cause they are the loveliest lovelies), i'm incredibly happy to note that they brushed their teeth in my bathroom the same day they were featured as spin's band o' the day.

in other news, i accidentally punched a 50 year old woman in the stomach at work so hard that she didn't stop coughing for fifteen minutes. and i spilled hot curry sauce all over her, myself and the floor.

the dichotomy that is my life, dudes. there you have it.

"you can smoke out of things other than apples you know"

today's keywords: air matress, vince vaughn, top ten lists from grade five, fig newtons, peaches, std, sailboat, tornado, siblings, corncob pipe, apple.

ambulette are good people. if you're in memphis tonight, please go see them.



there will be more sometime soon. i've just got a lot of work to do that i really don't want to do.

all she's can remember is that it sounded like a train

three tornado warnings today. the co-workers and i stood outside and watched the clouds turn. we smoked and talked about how a sound like that shouldn't come outta the sky. or maybe it should only come out of the sky.

i've procured the drive-by trucker's new album, a blessing and a curse (official release: april 25).
full disclosure forthcoming, but i will say that when i wore my replacements shirt to the show last march i had no idea y'all would take it to heart.

running down the street, running to meet the popsicle truck

baby huey and the babysitter's cover of "a change is gonna come" explodes cooke's work.

*************************

dear victory records,
fuck ROCK music and fuck your racist bullshit. since when did you get a monopoly on ROCK music? what makes you think you're ROCK music? i think you're a bunch of white people who want to finish off your basements with entertainment centers and wrap around leather couches.
and yes, your little "battle" is based in racism and uses the language of racism."this Ne-yo character"...way to take away agency. way to make ne-yo a non-person with your racist fucking language victory records. and are you kidding me? "no one expects us to win"? no one expects the white dudes with hella promotional teams and a ginormous "indie"-run-like-a-major-label to win NUMBER ONE ON BILLBOARD? are you KIDDING me?
your memos and actions are racist. period.
it's not okay victory, but i can lend you some books. we can talk about being white.
i discussed this with emily, and she said that even beyond the racism, it's pretty sick, "the self-importance of sending out a request that people ransack the fucking walmart to re-do their displays with this dumbfuck band's cd's in the most prominent place so they can 'win.'"
your proposal is utterly ridiculous and nauseating.
change is comin' pretty soon,
becky

bad babysitter, got my boyfriend in the shower, makin' six bucks an hour

from the town that gave chicago mahjongg, i present to you: shirrelle c. limes & the lemons.

and unlike that girl in mahjongg who had to READ A PIECE OF PAPER WITH THE LYRICS WHICH SAID "THE PROBLEMS OF AFRICA MUST BE RECOGNIZED,"* shirrelle knows all her words by heart and has the perfect pitch.

spring midwest tour is coming up, so heads up 7-up kiddos.


*you remember that shit? february, 2004, bottom lounge second night of the gossip. flipped my shit people. my blood pressure still goes up when i think about it.

and she grinned and she said now she said now she said

reading on a bench, on a sugar kind of day, leaving to go shopping for tights, on the way we do sleater-kinney rounds, i try corin but switch to carrie and you say "fuck you! you can't do a round!," but i convince you that we should try again, carrie i can handle but corin is just out of my reach, "backwards, forwards, backwards," i half remember the words and then tell you to put on my teenage jam and we're in the famous barr parking lot, "is there splendor? i'm not ashamed," two dollar turquoise fishnets, someone told me i was in drag when i wore a skirt and have been wondering exactly what that means for three days ("i'm not talking about your dad, i'm talking about patriarchy!"), you say smile i say cheese, last night he made coffee and we talked about electoral politics, you peeled onions, i wiped down the menus, you say coke i say caine, she called and we talked about how White people are stupid ("but this time i'm really talking about your dad."), you say lord i say christ, today i fully realized my pay disparity in comparison to the dudes in the kitchen, you say bark i say bite, we scream "lay off that whiskey" as we drive by the police station, this month i will eat more kale because i take the calendar to heart, and tomorrow is thursday and i am just beginning to realize how i've lost touch.