Last night I had some weird dreams. I think it was because I was hopped up on candy and soda (I know, I’m such a party animal these days). The only one I remember clearly was about me chasing down my brother’s dog Bitamus (a giant Great Dane) through my old neighborhood, because some people wanted to kill him? Capture him? I don’t know. Anyway, at some point I found out that Bitamus was actually a hologram or something, and was inside a laptop. So I had to protect the laptop. And then I meet the bad guy, right in my old front yard. He’s got a gun and is about to shoot me. At this point my neighbor, Joan, mother of my two earliest friends, Mark and Doug, walks slowly down her driveway, smoking a cigarette. She doesn’t seem to notice that I’m in dire straits, which is somewhat frustrating. I don’t know how, but I manage to get behind the bad guy, but I’m on the ground, and he’s standing over me with his back to my face. So I, not shitting you, grab the guy’s ankles and kick him in the taint as hard as I can, multiple times, while shouting at Joan to for the love of god call the police, and the guy starts shooting at me from behind (why he didn’t just shoot my leg or something, I’ll never know). And that’s when I wake up. At 3am, full of fighting energy.
So sue me if I slept in today.
Ah, Saturday. One of two days of the week where work is thrown out the window, where the sunshine can be fully enjoyed, and where, at night, the whores come out. This Saturday was no different, as walking by various clubs can attest to; women in skirts so short they might as well be called shirts, men wearing cologne so powerful it is sure to be on the periodic table of elements soon. And crazy people babbling to themselves as though they were at a bar, when they are really on the corner of a busy intersection. This is a Saturday night in Portland, and it was part of our Saturday night, the final night of MFNW. Continue reading musicfest, northwest!: day four
Well, last night was marred by something that was bound to happen eventually: I got rejected from the Doug Fir Lounge for having an expired license. So day three of MFNW was a little choppy, and it was mostly my fault, so let me explain in more detail… Continue reading musicfest, northwest!: day three
Yesterday was, in some ways, more successful than Wednesday, as yesterday we got to see Del. And that’s the coolest thing ever. We lost Paul for most of the day because he was playing in a softball game, which meant it was just Missy and me. I had to be Primary Navigator, which is never, ever good. And since the Wonder Ballroom, our first location, was not downtown whatsoever, I was a little worried about how the hell we were going to get there. I have a terrible sense of direction, thanks to the almost non-existent bus system in Boise and the fact that downtown there is about four blocks total. Paul supplied us with directions and buses to take, though, and they were spot on, so thanks for that, Paul! Continue reading musicfest, northwest!: day two
It’s incredibly beautiful and sunny out in Portland today, as it has been the last couple of days, and the weather couldn’t be better for MFNW. First, I am very grateful to Paul and Missy from /orate for being kind enough to get me into the whole festival in the first place, being a poor, recently-transported son of a bitch. This was technically my third time ever meeting anyone from the internet, though the first time doesn’t count cause she lived in Boise too. These kinds of meetings always start off weird, but Paul and Missy are very cool and not crazy or weird at all. I think that stigma of internet people being strange and/or socially inept is starting to wane, as it should, since everyone uses the internet these days, and we can’t all be socially inept, right? Continue reading musicfest, northwest!: day one
Here I am in beautiful sunny Portland, OR, sitting at the edge of my bed, at a computer desk which is much more accommodating than my old computer desk, my bed being, as mentioned in the blog title, a third larger than my old bed. I’ll always be one step ahead of you in the bed department, Aaron Kiefer. One step ahead… Continue reading the funny thing is, my bed here is a third larger than my last bed…
By the end of this week I will be living in a small bedroom in my brother’s house in Portland, Oregon, with probably about $50 in my pocket and a plan in my head. Since Monday I’ve been staying at my parents’ house, which is calm and secluded and unchanging like a Walt Whitman poem. My only regret is that I can’t take all of my friends with me. My problem has always been my introverted nature (surprising to some). I’m a bit of a loner. So the irony is that moving to Portland, and being even more of a loner, kind of frightens me, because being pulled away from my friends made me realize how many friends I had. I don’t regret having a lot of friends. Continue reading moving to portland
My neighbor and friend Megan once told me of a list a friend of hers made — a “hierarchy of men,” segregating the different types of males depending on their basic archetypes: assholes, regular guys, momma’s boys, etc. I thought this hierarchy was brilliant, and decided to make a list of my own. I call it Types of Dudes. My list includes five basic types of men — Bros, Sweet Dudes, Nerds, Normal Guys, and Serial Killers — and includes their behavior, traits, and a brief rundown of their favorite things. So, without further ado, I present to you … Types of Dudes. Continue reading types of dudes
So this is the part in my blog-writing career when I write about something that I probably shouldn’t write about because people can and probably will read it. If true, it would be the third time I wrote something on the internet that was read by the wrong person, but on the other hand, I’m not one to shy away from how I feel about things, and the last thing I want is to censor my own written material, as it is, sadly, one of the few places where I really “let loose,” as the kids say.
I’m writing about my job. It won’t be as bad as I have set it up to be, but as we’re all too aware these days, anything written on the internet can and will be read by the people you don’t want to read, and either you give up your right to free speech and force yourself into the corporate cog that millions of Americans have already done, or you say, “Fuck you, I get the right to vent,” and do just that. Continue reading job-hunting: the aftermath (a diatribe)
I got up at eleven this morning to do some more job hunting stuff, and it was already 90 degrees out. So needless to say I came home a bit early so I wouldn’t look like a piece of bacon. On my bike ride through the downtown of Boise, I had my MP3 player (a Creative Zen Touch — bit outdated these days but in 2005 it was awesome) set to random, and it played a particular song that brightened my spirits considerably: the techno remix of “Listen to Your Heart” by DHT.
I know what you’re thinking. “Josh,” you’re saying to me, “that’s the gayest thing I’ve ever heard.” But when I say that I like all types of music, I mean it, goddammit. I like dance music, I like classical, I like rock, I like indie. I like a lot of stuff. So get off my back, man. Just get off.
Anyway, I have decided to compile my annual Halfway Through the Year Best of 2008 in light it being, well, the middle of the year. Continue reading best of music 2008, thus far