Now that I know Who is going to Kill me...

...It's just a matter of when and How I will meet this demise.

Ok I'll set the scene.

Sleeping.
Wake up.
I think I hear something.
Listen.
Definitely hear something.
Get up.
Go to the kitchen.
There's Peter sneaking through the kitchen.

"oh hey man."
"!!!"
"I'm not doin' nuthin'"
"Get out."
"Ok man, I guess I'll get those bottles later..."
"No just OUT."
"Ok man I wasn't doing nuthin'"

Jeesus fuck. He was in my FUCKING HOUSE. FUCK! I don't even know where to start. For once I'm speechless.


Today's Song of the Day is "Who Wants to Live Forever" by Queen off their 1986 album "A Kind of Magic."

Crazy Fact: For years, their albums boasted the motto "no synthesizers were used on this record."

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Call Me.

Ok it's clear to me I have to set up some rules. Last called on monday. now it's saturday. That's just too long. You can't help but feel a little forgotten. That's not good. I know I'm the emotional one here, but you picked me. This should REALLY not be a surprise.

What's the rule? I'm doubting myself. I know what you think dennis, so besides dennis, who thinks more than three days is not cool, three days is bearly cool, every other day is sufficent... but really everyday would be sweet. Don't you think? I'm I that big a a pansy? I need some support over here, I'm past the ten day mark and my mind is sweaty and slippery. Wet with selfishness. Dripping with self-involved thought.

Talk to me. Before it floats away in a sea of my own making.


Today's Song of the Day is "Liquidator" by the Harry J. All Stars off their 1969 album "Liquidator."

Crazy Fact: I can't find out anything besides this track peaked at number 9 in the UK in 1969.

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My God it's full of Stars.

Dude, went camping last night. There are so many stars. It's incredible. Everytime I see them I'm amazed. Everytime I have the same reaction.

Pif: "holy shit there are so many stars."

I reminds me of yet another way that city rips you off. No nature for you, city slicker! Whatta rip.


Today's Song of the Day is "Wonderful Tonight" by Eric Clapton off his 1977 album "Slowhand."

Crazy Fact: He wrote this for his wife patti, cause she was taking too long to get dressed for a party. What a phoney.

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Can I have a Hit? Boy can I Ever!

Dude I got 1000 hits on my flickr site! I think that's pretty frickin' cool.

Of course I took a picture of it:

See!




Today's Song of the Day is "Roll Another Number (For The Road) by Neil Young off his 1975 album "Tonight's The Night."

Crazy Fact:

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Too Good at Making Friends

Ok so he seemed harmless enough the first time when he came by to ask if we would give him the 2-4 of empties at the top of the stairs. We gave it to him. It was strange to hear a voice come from out there. oh well

Then I heard it again.

"hey man can you leave those bottles there and not on the street so I can get'em man."
"umm... sure."
"cool man, cool."

Then I heard it again.

"hey man, have any bottles today, say man can I you don't have a beer do you?
"umm.. sure."
"thanks man I really appreciate it."
"no problem"
"hey man my names' peter..."
"cool, I'm pif, seeya"
"thanks man."

Then I heard it again through the rain. He came in, sat down for a bit, bummed another beer and talked while he scouted out my kitchen. ok.

insert a blah blah blah
"..do you smoke weed?"
"no I gave it up"
"...cigarettes?
"I quit that too."
"sometimes man I can get so high... whooo hoo. You know man, sometimes I need the stuff so bad I couild kill for it, you know what I mean? man, like punch somebody, you know.'
"uh-huh."
"man you like CDs? I got CDs man it's you kinda music. I'lll bring some by..."
"uh-huh."
"Ok man I'll talk to you later."

Then again.

"Hey man do you have a beer."
"sorry man I'm low.'
'come on.'
"sorry.'
"how about five bucks.'
"look you can have the bottles but that's it.'
"Sure man sure, I see how it is."
"...Five bucks man."
"nope."
"i'm not just here to see what I can get from you, know that."
"sure, man, sure, I know."
"ok well I'll see you."

Then tonight a knock on the door at midnight while I'm studying in my underwear.

"Hey it's me. lemmie in for a second."
"sorry it's late."
"what time is it.'
"11:30"
"ok man I'm just stopping in I'll see you later."

No more beer for Peter. No more coming in for Peter. No more anything for Peter. If I'm found dead. Look for some guy named Peter. Nice guys finish dead.


Today's Song of the Day "Creep" by Radiohead off their 1993 debut "Pablo Honey."

Crazy Fact: He married the girl this song is about. (thanks for that one sweetie)

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Signs, Sign Everywhere There's Signs. (Part Two)

(Continued from yesterday...)

I'll have to outwit it. My brain is WAAY bigger that its' is. It's gotta work. I wait for it to get on the table, and BAM! I blow hard. It's creepy little feet can't get their grip on, so the little fucker tumbles into the dusty oblivion under my computer.

Pif: ha HA!

Victorious, I get to my daily distractions, before I study for the BIG TEST. Not even two minutes later. It crawls right at me. I blast it again with vigorous irritation. It comes back.

Pif: Have at Thee!

Again, I send it tumbling into oblivion.

I'm not sure it planned it this way, maybe I give this enemy too much credit, but one thing is for sure, I'll not underestimate this foe again, for it nearly cost me the war. I'm not sure what it was after, I'm no bug psychologist, but if I had to guess, it was to come in between me and my computer, probably using it's inherent GROSSness as its' primary weapon.

I'm convinced that after the last blast, it must have taken stock of the situation.

I've clearly demonstrated by inability or unwillingness to use brute force, the first choice of most mammals. It knew I was weak. It lulled me into a false sense of security, with the marginally effective breath attack. This was the turning point, it was at this point that I nearly lost the war.

At first I didn't see it. When finally I noticed it, my foe was carefully crawling through a tangle of cables. I blew at it, it's held on. whatever. It crawled up further. Ew! I blew at it again. It held fast.

Pif: Whatever you little idiot! I'll blow all six of your gross little legs into oblivion, you just watch.

I tried to ignore it. It was either the intensity of my instinctual disgust or my intuition warning me to play closer attention. Either way when next I looked, it was clearly crawling up the mouse cable.

Pif: EWW! Bastard! Gross! FUCKER!

I was outraged, I blew and blew in a near panic. As I did this I realized it's plan. It was through a dizzy haze of hyperventilation that I realized, it had me.

I could see it's evil plan now in every facet of the those two huge revolting compound eyes. I shook the mouse and it held fast. With my weapons rendered useless, morale was failing. It ardulously climbed up the cable, closer and closer to my hand. Frozen in fear. Frozen with the realization of my inevitable defeat. I snap out of it and pull my hand away as it climbs the last few inches of the mouse cable. The retreat has begun. If only I could stomach brute force. If only I could find the will. I shudder with disgust.

Pif: fucking YUCK!

I run up stairs for some water. It's hot and I need water. It's a distraction. I know. My self-esteem would not be able to bear the weight of this defeat. Outwitted by a Fly? I drank deep. This situation had become untenable. It calls for drastic measures. Death Penalty. I start back to the field of battle mallet in hand. Vengence held firmly in my mind I thought nothing of the consquences of taking a mallet and smashing the life out of this foe in such close proximity to a delicate electrical device like a computer. my precious.

Pif: Prepare yourself Enemy, for this hour is your last!

I get to the landing. It is lounging victoriously on my mouse pad. Easy target. I sit. I pause to prepare myself for the killing stroke. Then it strikes me. The little fool has made a grievous error. In a moment of clarity I see his weaknesses as clearly as he saw mine. I put down the mallet and lift up the mouse pad. It panics, skitters about and finally hunkers down for a blast.

Pif: We are well met my enemy. Yes, this Mammal won't swash you, but little Fly, you won't fly. Good by mister bond.

I flick the bottom of the mouse pad and fling my enemy down the stairs. He tumbles flightless into the darkness, defeated. I am victorious!

It doesn't REALLY matter thought because between spoiled milk and flightless flies, CLEARY the end is nigh. So it is written.


Today's Song of the Day is "Hells Bells" by AC/DC off their 1980 album "Back In Black."

Crazy Fact: By 1997, this album had sold an astounding 16 million copies in the U.S. alone.

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Signs, Sign Everywhere There's Signs. (Part One)

Now I'm not genius when it comes to most things, and I'm certain no genius when it comes to the apocalypse, but I think it's coming and I think it's starting in my apartment.

First of all, the milk was curdled, like seriously curdled. All lumpy and awful, bloppy, thick and gross. I forget about shit all the time, so it probably past due. I look at the due date, August 02. That's not right. That's over a week away. Apocalypse.

Second I'm on the couch with the laptop, obsessing on Flickr and "why Why WHY!?" When I look down and there is a Fly on my toe. Like a regular fly. Eww. I should've killed it, as they are so clearly the natural enemy of all mammals, but as usual I didn't have the heart. I shook my foot and the little fucker just held on. double EWW! So I brushed it off and retreated down stairs to the desktop system for further means to obsess and there is another one just sitting on my keyboard looking at me. I figure it's my chance to redeem myself, to turn from cowardice and smite, with furious anger, an agent of the enemy of all good creatures in the world. I make lame attempt with a wad of paper and losing heart and the last minute, I spazz and flub it away harshly. It didn't die nor did it fly away. eww. What's wrong with these FLIES? Apocalypse.

I freak out.

Pif: FLY FLY! Go and FLY! That's what your FUCKING called, Do it! Fly AWAY! git!

It crawls around my monitor. It's begging to be killed. Grrr. Now I feel like we've shared a moment, it's impossible to kill it. I get so attached so easily. It starts walking towards me again. With My instinctual Mammalian disgust clearly at the controls and blow at it. It clings to the porous phone book with all six of it's gross little hooked feet, then crouches and hunkers down to weather the blast. It's wings twitch and shake in the wind.

Pif: How DARE you!

I'm outraged. I breath deep and spew forth such an intense and vengeful blast of righteous ruination on my foe (this agent of the deepest and ultimate foe of ALL Good Creatures of this earth), that it surely sits on par with all Old-testament-flood-slash-plague-slash-pillar-of-fire-type Divine wraith. Its' gross little hooked feet dig deep into the phone book. At first it holds strong like a fisherman against a raging sea, crouching and willful. Only at the last of my breath does it weaken and be forced up and back. I pause, defeated, out of breath. Victorious, it pauses, stands up straight and looks at me, innocently.

Pif: ...fucker...

I try to ignore it and check my mail. If ever there was a fly that deserved a smack down, that's the one. I can't. I'm a pansy. I'm feeling oddly compassionate for it. I'm conflicted. It's unholy visage disgusts me to me shivering core, and yet in it's behaivor I see something familiar, endearing even cute. It's little wings all shakey and it holds on, like Fivers' floppy ears when he running after me with his ball in his mouth.

I pause, shake my head and drop my head into my hands.

Pif: Oh dude, I got issues.

She'll be back soon. She will. Flies are NOT cuddle buddies, they are the very opposite. Get yourself TOGETHER, man! Even when they look at you with those big dark bumpy eyes, innocence gleeming in every facet, shining forth from that pure heart. So delicate...

Pif: AAAAAA!


(to be Continued...)


Today's Song of the Day is "Can't Help Falling In Love" by Elvis Presley off his 1961 album "Blue Hawaii."

Crazt Fact: After graduating from high school, Elvis became a truck driver.

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Flashy New Worker

Today, I got a new addition to the Song of The Day Staff. If you scroll down to the end of the sidebar you can meet them. That little bugger works tirelessly to do it's little picture shuffle dance. I think it's pretty cool.


Today's Song of the Day is "Pictures of Lily" by The Who off their 1968 album "Magic Bus."

Crazy Fact: This is about about masterWHAT! masterBATION! Heavens to Betsy! Someone should cover this and re-titled it 'Pictures off Google.'

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The Only Bugs I Like is a Bunny.

As you may or may not know, I believe that the bug (insects, spiders... anything with more than 4 legs) is the natural enemy of all of human-kind.. Don't EAT them WIPE them off the face of the earth... Well that's the Theory, but when it comes down to it I have probablems going out of my way to heartlessly kill bugs. (NOTE TO SELF: learn to be heartless.)

Anyway it's obvious that the dinosaurs should have done a better job back in the triassic period of eating all our ancestor mammals. Though the just looked like creepy looking little mice the would out live you and many moon later invent soap. SO bugs are next after we wipe each other out, so we have to wipe them out first.

actually I just don't want them coming in my house and flying around my garbage. I'm just over-reacting as usual. Speaking of over-reaction... WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO CALL ME FROM POLAND!


Today's Song of the Day is "The Fly" by U2 off their 1991 album "Actung Baby."

Crazy Fact: Bono bought a 3.5 million dollar condo in NYC to house the starving poor, er I mean to, escape the starving poor.

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Hot Eye Salt.

This HEAT is retarded. I'm sitting perfectly still only using my fingers for HOURS and sweat is dripping down my back. it's nasty. fucking fuck nasty.

I went to Long Lake yesterday. it was like bath water. F!

It's the A-Ditty Ocean next time. If you need a good case of hypothermia, that cold mutha fucka NEVER dissapoints. I need a drive. Who wants to fuck off to the ocean with me? I won't pay for gas, I promise. but I'm a good time. no one denies that. I'll bring my laptop and I'll do my assignement on the beach... that's actually a really fucking good idea.

EWW! My eye's are stinging because my SWEAT is getting in them! ouch, gross self-salting weirdness. yuckouch.

I gotta do something about this, it's freaking me out.


Today's Song of the Day is "The Sea & the Rhythm" by Iron And Wine off his 2003 EP "The Sea & the Rhythm."

Crazy Fact: He's from Florida, it's SUPPOSED to be hot there. grrr.

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Angry Pansy.

Before she left Sarah was trying to feed me some crap how it's no different for her to leave now for POLAND as it was for me to leave for Paris in March. bollacks. Here's why.

1) I didn't live in her house when I left.

I'm REALLY not looking forward to crawling into 'that' bed alone with the knowledge that I'm going to get up in 'that' bed alone tomarrow morning. SEE that's the kind of sit I'm talking about. When I left 'that bed' wasn't OUR bed it was HER bed. GRRRRRRRrrrrrrr. The frying pans too big without you too.

2) 15 days is 5 days LONGER than 10.

Every two days is exponentially worse then the last two, minus a 'getting used to it' effect in the middle were there is a period of false comfort. make no mistake 10 days is better than 15 anyone who says different has been bought off or lost their soul in a loveless marriage.

3) I left when we had been going out for like maybe a month.

All we had was a bunch of hope back then, nothing was real. Dude. Shit is real now. I'm not saying we've been married for 10 years but DAMN! This sucks. I'm actually quite pissed about this at the moment. I'm a total baby right now and I want my sasa. ok i'm irritating myself I'm going to stop typing now.

This girl is turning me into a pansy. grrrr.


Today's Song of the Day is "Lacrimosa" composed by Zbigniew Preisner, performed here by Sinfonia Varsovia (conducted by Jacek Kaspszyk) and the Varsov Chamber Choir, featuring Elzbieta Towarnicka off the 1998 album "Requiem For My Friend."

(...try pronouncing those names Anglo!...)

Crazy Fact: Dude, it's all Polish baby... Zbigniew Preisner collaborated with Polish filmaker Krzystof Kieslowski, on his celebrated "Trois Coleurs" trilogy and won a Cesar (French for 'Academy Award') for the score of the final film in that trilogy "Rouge." It is for Kieslowski that this song is written.

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She's Already Gone.

She done got on a plane and flew so very far away from me. Who in the RIGHT mind... rharrahrarrhrarhar. Poland! I hate the word, as I hate hell, all montegues, and.. well not 'thee.' I don't really even know who's reading this right now.

I think I might have sworn never to send a Lyndard Synard song but it just came on and I figured... I know. Lemmie try again:

"What Drawn and speak of [Poland]. I hate the word, as I hate Hell, all [Southern Rock] and thee! Have at thee [Lynard Skynard]!"

Thanks Tybalt, your the best.

If every second of this song is was minute I think that's how long Sarah will be over the Atlantic Ocean tonight, but only slightly less tollerable. I hope the flight ok sweetie... you traitor! umm... Lynard Skynard, I mean. yeah your southern asses smell awful 'n' stuff... yuckie.

Today's Song of the Day is "Tuesday's Gone" by Lynyrd Skynyrd off their 1973 debut album "Pronounced Leh-Nerd Skin-Nerd."

Crazy Fact: (I'm not sure if you know this but the reason why you say "break a leg" to someone before they get on stage is because it's the worse thing that could happen and in a theatre voodoo kind of way you prevent it from happening by naming it. So with that in mind read the following crazy fact with the knowledge that my sweet-heart is in a plane right now...) On October 20, 1977, a privately chartered plane carrying the band between shows in Greenville, SC, and Baton Rouge, LA, crashed outside of Gillsburg, MS. Ronnie VanZant, Steve Gaines, and his sister Cassie, one of the group's backing vocalists, died in the crash. The cause of the crash was either fuel shortage or a fault with the plane's mechanics.

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forgetting and forgotten

This no cell phone business is trouble.

First, the damn thing made me stupid cause I don't remember a single damn phone number anymore.

Second, now I'm forgetting to do stuff 'cause there's nobody to call me and say "WHERE the HELL are YOU!"

I'm a cyborg. I need the technology to live a normal life. That Cell Phone was the other half of my brain (the most productive half) and it's GONE. it was bad enough when that part of my brain would run out of power. but now... i'm forelorn... oh little cell phone please come home to papa. he misses you.

Today's Song of the Day is "Never Tear Us Apart" by INXS off their 1987 album "Kick."

Crazy Fact: INXS had its roots in a family act, the Farriss Brothers. Andrew Farriss (keyboard, guitar), Tim Farriss (guitar) and Jon Farriss (drums.)

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the great interupter is DEAD!

there is a profound and resounding silence in my life.

My cell phone is gone.

I feel like... well i'm not even sure. I guess i'm back in the 90s. strange.

I'll tell you how it goes...


Today's Song of the Day is "Hanging On The Telephone" by Blondie off their 1978 album "Parallel Lines."

Crazy Fact: Debbie Harry is the only Debbie who every been a Hottie.

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i'm sick.

it's god awful. My head is pounding because my brain is too big for my skull and it makes my sinuses cry infection into my lungs. sucks sucks cusks.

It's made me into a mouth breather. ugh. it's awful, panting all watery mouthed. eye's sort of half closed from the discomfort, droopey lidded and stunned. clogged fucking awful. but I'd stay like this for a month if I new it meant I'd never half to experience waking up this morning. awful. just awful. like a throatful of warm flavourless oysters.


***beep***beep***beep***

S: sweetie wake up...

P: wha?

S: are you feeling any better?

P well... (CcOoOuUuGGgGhHh) (the most disgusting sound ever heard.)

(pause)

S: ...eewww!

P: (gulp, gulp) oh god... sweet jesus what a horrible way to wake up.


It seems that a throat can hold an entire mouthful of mucus. it was unbelievably revolting. I think I would rather eat lobster eyes then do that again. First thing in the morning a mouth briming with throat slime. It sounds disgusting well it ACTUALLY happened to me. ok. and it might happen to me again.

I won't be able to sleep at the thought of it. I used to be afraid of camping because an average of 8 spiders crawl in your mouth over a weekend camping trip. bring it. a mouthful of warm, thick bactieria laden mucus for breakfast is by far the worse of the two.


Today's Song of the Day is "911 Is A Joke" by Public Enemy off their 1990 album "Fear Of A Black Planet."

Crazy Fact: PE's choreographer of the group's backup dancers, Professor Griff, was quoted as saying Jews were responsible for "the majority of the wickedness that goes on across the globe" Chuck D broke up the group because of it.

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Secret Dinner (Part Four)

(continued from yesterday...)

Go back to lighting candles. I make little plates of three and put them all over the (very clean) kitchen. I'm quite proud of myself. I forgot the flowers (I was at the store, and I thought foolishly 'I'll do that later') but whatever it looks pretty good. I think the candle lighting thing was a way to deal with the general fear of death by fire "Who's in control now little match, little candle, little flame? hmmm? BWHAHAHA!" I went a little overboard.

I pick the music (Al Green, The Mission, Beethoven's Piano Sonatas, Oscar Peterson, and I had to put in Nebraska by The Boss cause I've had it on repeat all day and I'm obsessed.) Seems like a good shuffle. check the time. we're good. cool. take out the fish. We're good. Put in the bread. Check the time, 10 to, awesome.

I was lighting yet another plate of tea lights when I remember the whole purpose this was to thank her for yesterday and give her a card with some cash for her trip to Poland. FUCK! I didn't do the damn card. fuck fuck.

I run into the living room grab some cash and a card that was lying around (very classy) I pick up a pen. ok here's what I'll do, I'll do this one incase she shows up on time and meanwhile I'll make a better one while I wait. ok umm what do I write.

"c-click."
"hi sweetie."

Eek! My adrenalin hits the roof.

(gulp) "...hi beautiful."

I'm smiling ear to ear, bursting and struggling to get the cash in the card and card in the envelope, I 'casually' slink into the kitchen and struggle in the corner with this damn card out of sight.

"Eva showed me the skirts for Poland," I hear Sarah throw her stuff/crap on the couch and shuffle around a bit, "and they're not as bad as I thought."

I look around to make sure it looks ok. It looks awesome. She's going to totally cry. I think to myself, 'Oh my God! I can't wait to see her face when she comes into the kitchen! Come in the kitchen, DONT come in the kitchen, come in the kitchen, DONT come in..." This cycles through my head at a hundred cycles per second as I try to cram all this cash and card in this weird yellow envelope.

"...but do you know what's really exciting!?" She jumps/skips into joyfully into the kitchen plane tickets in hand.

"You cleaned the kitchen... it looks great." She sees the table and the candles as she's talking, and slows, not quite sure, "Look... I got... my tickets for... Poland..." her brain slows down and she starts taking it in.

She gives me a big beautiful hug as she looks at the table and starts to melts a little.

"Excellent, cause I have a present for your trip." I give her the card.

"oh sweetie..." melting she looks at the table, and at the candles and at the card, and at me "oh sweetie..."

And she totally melts. Dinner is perfect, the wine is perfect, she's perfect, it's all so... well... quite perfect. Then we go walk the patient and well fed puppy till sundown. It's an awesome kinda happy.


Today's Song of the Day is "Purple Rain" by Prince And The Revolution off his 1984 Album "Purple Rain."

Crazy Fact: He now lives in Toronto.

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