Gullible Zine

short story 'sons of liberty' in burly bird 4

2010-02-18T08:11:00.000-08:00

my short story 'sons of liberty' is in burly bird zine #4, out now. check their site for ordering info.

tumblah

2010-02-18T08:08:00.000-08:00

both of you probably noticed that i've been quiet on this blogspot lately. that's partially because i've been using the site tumblr. go to ctwashere.tumblr.com for more writing news, my haiku diary, and other assorted geeking and freaking. i'll still post stuff on here, too.

reading on chicago public radio

2010-02-18T08:03:00.000-08:00

on monday morning, i read on chicago public radio 89.5fm. it streamed on vocalo.org, too. here's a link to the audio of me reading my short story 'the impersonator,' plus an excerpt from the interview.
i had a great time. thanks to dj michael catano for having me on.

catching up

2010-02-18T07:58:00.000-08:00

A couple things:

- CellStories ran "The Bullets Were Losing" a week before Xmas. The day after it ran, my girlfriend gave me an iPod Touch, and I got to read my story online. It was cool.

- My short story "Asa Berman" will be in Hair Trigger #32, out this spring. Hair Trigger is the lit journal published by the Fiction Writing department at Columbia College Chicago, where I go to grad school.

"Boston Noir" Book Review

2009-11-11T19:24:00.000-08:00

My review of "Boston Noir" is up now on Mostly Fiction. The collection was edited by Dennis Lehane and is one of Akashic Books' Noir Series. This is the link.

While we're talking Boston, will someone please begin a petition to get the "What's the Best Way?" and "The Vallencourt Boys" SNL sketches online or on DVD? "The Best Way" was the game show about directions in New England that yielded the "pass eleven Dunkin' Donuts" and "there's a retahded kid sellin' fiyahcrackahs" jokes. "Vallencourt" was Adam Sandler and Kevin Nealon as two mushes with a cable access show. Both were spot-on Boston accent parodies.

Essay: God Was Magic

2009-11-10T21:14:00.000-08:00

My essay, "God Was Magic," is in this week's Columbia Chronicle. You can read the whole essay online, here. Make sure to leave a comment about how I'm going to hell.

No word yet from Cell Stories about when they're running "The Bullets Were Losing," but it should be by the end of the calendar year. In the meantime, head to CellStories.net and sign up, for free. It's a service that sends a daily story to your mobile device, which they define as "Any mobile device with a WebKit-based browser; we've specifically checked iPhone, iPod Touch, and Android-based phones."
Honestly, that's a little bit over my head, but I'm not very tech-savvy.

Guns 'n' Roses "Chinese Democracy," A Four-Part Exegesis

2009-10-31T11:01:00.000-07:00

All four installments of my part-by-part exegesis of the Guns 'n' Roses album "Chinese Democracy" are now up on Running Downhill. Here is a litany of links:

Part 1, Unnecessary Shredding - 9/2/09
Part 2, Modern...but Classy - 9/21
Part 3, Classic G'n'R Tropes - 9/29
Part 4, Capable Schmaltz - 10/20

Here's my last post on here about this.

Short Story "The Bullets Were Losing" In Cell Stories This Fall

2009-10-31T10:56:00.000-07:00

Cell Stories is a Chicago-based website that sends daily stories to people's mobile devices. I was a little geeked when I found out that it's run by Dan Sinker of Punk Planet, an old favorite zine. Anyway, they're going to run my short story "The Bullets Were Losing" at some point in the next couple months. I'll update this once I know when my story runs, and in the meantime, go to CellStories.net to sign up for this free story service.

Essay "God Was Magic" In The Columbia Chronicle

2009-10-31T10:50:00.000-07:00

I wrote an essay for a series of articles in the newspaper at my school. The school is Columbia College Chicago. The essay series is called Fact/Fiction. The paper is the Columbia Chronicle. I'll post more info as I get at. I feel like Peter Parker, minus the weeping.

Short Story "Deadly Nightshade" In Burly Bird 2

2009-10-08T21:48:00.000-07:00

I wrote a short story called "Deadly Nightshade" and the folks at Burly Bird were kind enough to include it in their second issue, which was just released. Check out the Burly Bird site for more information.

Book Review: "Huge" by James W. Fuerst

2009-09-13T15:48:00.000-07:00

I did a book review of the novel "Huge" by James W. Fuerst. It's young adult lit, but it's the perfect kind of YA - the kind that also appeals to grown-ups. The book is a riff on a hardboiled detective novel; the pre-teen narrator is a big fan of Raymond Chandler. As a mystery fan and a YA fan/aspiring writer, I enjoyed the hell out of this book. Read more about it here on Mostly Fiction.

My "Chinese Democracy" Write-Up On Running Downhill

2009-09-09T05:50:00.000-07:00

I'm doing a four-part exegesis of the Guns 'n' Roses album "Chinese Democracy" for the blog Running Downhill. Here's the first section, more to follow.

9/22/09: Part 2 up now here.

From the intro:

"Guns ‘n’ Roses’ “Chinese Democracy” took the better part of two decades to record and release. It’s a dense, bewildering album that can’t be judged as a whole because there is so much going on, a lot of which is brilliant, but plenty of which is schlock. In an effort to figure out what is going on in this record, and to decide if I like it, I went through it, cataloging and responding to every part of every song."

Thangs 'n' Stuff

2009-08-12T10:12:00.001-07:00

I wrote a review of Chicago author Barry Schechter's debut novel, "The Blindfold Test." It's posted here on MostlyFiction.com.

Then I crapped all over a Public Enemy DVD. The review ran in Razorcake #50. It's on their site, too.

On Hip-Hop, Authenticity and Red Arlington's "The Long Weekend"

2009-07-29T12:13:00.000-07:00

When hip-hop first swept the suburbs in the mid-1980s, it came across as a conflicted art form. While it was a brash, new music fighting for mainstream acceptance, a preservationism was already at work, guarding the music’s black, inner city roots. Purists worried, with good reason, that their music would be hijacked by white people, as had happened to rock ‘n’ roll thirty years earlier. A mixed message was sent to outsiders, “You must love us, but you can’t join us.”

Over twenty years later, hip-hop is in an interesting place. It is the predominant form of popular music in the U.S., but it is still almost exclusively made by a minority population - black people. Twenty-three years after the Beastie Boys, twenty after 3rd Bass and twelve after Eminem, the idea of a non-black rapper is a novelty, even though, as of the 2000 census, only 12.3 percent of the U.S. population is black.

Red Arlington was born in the mid-1980s, within months of Run-DMC collaborating with Boston-based hard rock band Aerosmith to do a rapped cover of Aerosmith’s 1970s hit, “Walk This Way.” That song is credited, or blamed, with bringing hip-hop music to the white mainstream.

Red Arlington is a white MC making Top 40-influenced hip-hop music. He’s a young guy from the Boston area, just out of college, collaborating with producer/friend YoungBoy, aiming to create songs to soundtrack wild college house parties.

“The Long Weekend” is Red Arlington’s album. It’s an eight-song EP chronicling the debauched weekend before college graduation. The apprehension that might come with an approaching graduation is completely dispensed with, and Red focuses on the fun and lighthearted drama that goes down on this, or any, beer-filled weekend.

The EP starts off with a slinky live drum beat and a series of voicemails from friends, inviting Red to parties, checking in about what’s going on that night, and, of course, planning a huge trip to the liquor store.

The beat carries over into “The Packy’s My Best Friend.” As explained in the song, “packy” is Massachusetts slang for “package store,” or “liquor store.” The first verse finds Red stuck in a class discussion, watching the clock, wondering why someone always has to hold things up by asking a question with a minute left to go.

It’s the little truths and details like the talkative classmate, or the girl with cartoons on her bedsheets in “Textually Frustrated,” that elevate Red’s lyrics above the realm of vacuous party anthems, and make them believable and heartfelt. While some rappers brag about the exclusivity of their partying - name-checking upscale champagne and VIP sections - Red comes off as a likeable dude who wants everyone to have a good time alongside him. You get the idea that Red would, a) show up at the party with a twelve-pack of beer under his arm and b) bum you one of those beers before they started to get warm.

The Long Weekend’s narrative is loose, but the songs progress, touching on the themes of a wasted weekend – the liquor run, the elation of the booze buzz, the drunk dialing, the hangover, the stories swapped, the next party. While some songs stay topical, Red’s at his best when he gets specific, and The Long Weekend’s standout tracks are “Red Cups” and “Textually Frustrated.”

The music on “Red Cups” sounds like a homemade take on an Akon song, with plaintive minor-key synths and a rollerskate beat on the drums. The song is an ode to keg cups, and the reflective music is contrasted by the biggest, funnest, catchiest chorus on the album. I’m not going to spoil the surprise, but I will tell you that the lyrics involve Solo cups, asses and basketball, and I had to seriously check myself when I realized I was singing it out loud while walking around at my job last week. I’ve included a “Red Cups” download link at the bottom so you can hear it for yourself.

“Textually Frustrated” is bouncier, but the beat is based around a farty slap-bass synth that sounds like the music they play when “Seinfeld” comes back from a commercial. Luckily, other keys and percussion get layered in as the song progresses, and the synth bass blends into the mix. The song finds our hero Red at a party, a few drinks in and texting a girl he recently hooked up with. She takes a long time to write back and he’s left in that drunken limbo, not sure where he’ll wind up at the end of the night. There’s a funny sung breakdown, saluting all of the digital ways would-be lotharios have of contacting their love interests. You may not write Red back right away, but Red will keep in touch with you through Facebook, MySpace or text.

It’s odd, that, while The Long Weekend is supposed to be a party soundtrack, the music is often not quite upbeat enough to move a room full of drunks, and the slower pace of the songs is better suited for the day after, when the roommates all emerge from their bedrooms in the late morning and congregate on the couch, rubbing their heads, swapping tales, filling each other in on the details, and maybe regretting a misguided pass made at the opposite sex.

There’s a big, white elephant in the room when you’re discussing an album by a white rapper who talks about college parties. That elephant is named Asher Roth. Roth is a major label MC whose hit is called “I Love College.” While Roth spends some time rhyming about beer blasts and blunt cruisin’, he sounds more like he’s reminiscing than living in the drunken trenches. If Roth looks back at college through rose-colored lenses, Red is there, updating you in real time. And Red’s obsession with the minutiae, with the amount of tax on a rack of beer, surpasses Roth and brings to mind another white guy with a laptop, a hoodie and a buzz, Mike Skinner of The Streets.

The Streets’ first album, “Original Pirate Material,” was released in 2001 and chronicles the life of hard-partying, broke, young urbanites. The deliberations over girls, the puffed chest closing-time confrontations and drunken combination of self-doubt and braggadocio come together to form a perfect example of the psyche of a beery guy in his early twenties. “Original Pirate Material” is now at the awkward age where it’s not old enough to be retro or formative, but it is just old enough to feel passé in a music world where some albums are old by the time they reach year-end Best Of lists. Red Arlington’s lyrics cover similar territory to The Streets, but it’s easy to assume that The Streets, who are nothing more than a cult favorite in the U.S., have flown completely under his radar. The Streets best work isn’t current, it isn’t in the present, and because of that, it’s not inclusive or conversant enough with today’s pop culture to really hit home at your average frat party, circa 2009.

White rappers are asked a lot of questions about their own authenticity, as they create what is basically popular black music. This continues, even as hip-hop becomes as omnipresent and bloated as the hard rock of twenty years ago. No, I don’t think that hip-hop should be stolen from black people the same way that rock ‘n’ roll was in the 1950s. But I do think that if that theft were going to happen, it would have taken place a long time ago. Chuck Berry and Little Richard had only been at it for a couple of years before Elvis Presley came along. No, Red Arlington is not Elvis. He’s not Jerry Lee Lewis. He’s not Buddy Holly. He’s a pop musician, plain and simple, and he is working with the sounds and styles that he grew up on, and for that you cannot fault him, especially if the results are as infectious as “The Long Weekend.” And besides, I dare you to find something more authentic than a white suburbanite singing the virtues of beer pong.

Click here for a free zShare download of "Red Cups."

"Textually Frustrated:"

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

2009-07-27T15:13:00.000-07:00

It's been a while, so I thought I'd check in. I finished my first year of grad school and have lived in Chicago for a year now. I'm spending my summer writing and working a couple shifts in a coffeeshop.
I started a novel in class this past spring, and spent the last couple months writing a full draft of it. It's a YA novel about a week in the life of a thirteen year old boy, and the first draft is a little over two hundred pages long. I've set it aside for a bit before going back to editing, and am working on some other projects, including:
- Record and zine reviews for Razorcake.
- Book reviews for Mostly Fiction.
- A couple short fiction stories (fingers crossed on those surfacing somewhere).
- A writeup of a hip-hop EP by my cousin, Red Arlington, to be posted here soon.

That's about all. I've got some zine ideas and I still need to get off my ass and paste together my recent haiku diaries. Patience, Grasshopper.

Aight. Peace and hair grease,

CT

Gullible 29 Reviewed In MRR

2009-05-18T09:07:00.000-07:00

Maximum Rock 'n' Roll gave Gullible 29 a good review. As an added bonus, they didn't call me a woman again. I wish I could tell what number/month issue the review was in, but the geniuses at the USPS managed to shred the cover into hamster cage liner. I don't feel like typing the whole thing, but they said that my sardonic voice makes the writing compelling.

Gullible 29 For Sale In Brooklyn

2009-05-18T09:03:00.000-07:00

I dropped copies of Gullible 29 at Desert Island (540 Metropolitan, bt. Union and Lorimer) and Cinders Gallery (103 Havemeyer, bt. Hope and Grand) this past weekend. All proceeds benefit the shops.

UNRAP.WORDPRESS.COM

2009-05-04T07:48:00.000-07:00

My girlfriend and I started a blog called Unrap. The tagline is "Rap where it shouldn't be," and it's a collection of videos of rap music being used in cheesy ways. For example, we've posted video of Steve Urkel rapping, cereal commercials where the food's mascot raps and weird PSAs.
Give it a look, and contact us at unrapblog@gmail.com if you have any ideas for content.

Ben Snakepit's Dog Eating Gullible 29

2009-04-20T07:55:00.000-07:00

Insert joke about "good taste" here:

Flash Fiction: "Principles"

2009-03-20T06:38:00.000-07:00

The flash fiction site Six Sentences ran my story "Principles." Give it a look here.
Flash fiction is super-short fiction that is popular online. Different sites set different word limits, generally under 1,000 words. This site only publishes stories that are six sentences long. Submit something. It's fun.

Photo ganked from Nick Pinkerton. I assume he's the butcher.

20 Albums That Changed My Life

2009-03-07T17:00:00.000-08:00

This was a chain letter going around on Facebook and I had so much fun writing it that i decided to post it here, too. The internet begats the internet.

Guns N Roses “Appetite for Destruction”
This was the first rock record I got, and man did it set the standard high! I love that somewhere in L.A., sometime in the ‘80s, some dudes were chugging one of those three-liter bottles of Carlo Rossi and going, “Let’s start a band that sounds like Aerosmith on sherm,” and one of those dudes was half Black, just like me.

Metallica “Ride The Lightning”
I had “…And Justice for All,” and worked backwards to this one after I borrowed the “Cliff ‘em All” video from a guy on my Little League team. I heard “Creeping Death” and was like, “This is what metal’s supposed to sound like!” I was an expert. I was ten.

Green Day “Dookie”
When I was fifteen, my family was moving from Boston to Richmond, and we stayed with my aunt in Connecticut for a while. We’ll call this time the Middle Passage. Anyway, I was sleeping on her couch at night, watching “The State,” and in the day, I’d try to skate on the hill that she lived on. One night, the video for “Longview” came on and it hit home because it was a song about spending your summer being bored and angsty, beating off on the couch. And what was I doing that summer? I was being bored and angsty on the couch, beating off. If my memory serves me right, at the end of the video, I hopped off the couch with my dilznick in my hand and yelled, “This is MY music, yo!” But, that’s probably not what happened.

Gang Starr “Step in the Arena”
For Christmas in seventh grade, one of my aunts got me a $10 gift certificate to Strawberry’s or Sam Goody or something. This was when an album usually cost $8.99 and we had to walk uphill both ways to get to the junior high. Anyway, my dad took me to the record store. They kept the sexually unfettered Negro music behind the counter, and there on that shelf was Gang Starr. I’d heard good things and just got into “The Low End Theory,” so I got this album. I was twelve, and my suburb was beginning to feel small, so it was great to hear this hip-hop group with Boston connections, and let my own town feel all the cooler. Since Gang Starr really championed Brooklyn on their later (and better) albums, it’s little known that Guru actually grew up in Boston. For a minute there though, they were ours.

Nirvana “Nevermind”
This was awesome in seventh grade because it was a perfectly timed point of entry into this esoteric punk/indie world that created inside jokes and made junior high tolerable. Then in eighth grade it was super confusing when all of the preppie girls started dressing like skaters, but still wouldn’t talk to me.

Fugazi “Steady Diet of Nothing”
People cut on this album a lot, but I like it. It was the first one I heard. In seventh grade, my friend Matt taught me how to ollie on a skateboard, he told me about Fugazi, he chastised me when I mixed them up with Nirvana, and he called his sister a slut when she came downstairs, tucking in her shirt, after her boyfriend left the house when their parents weren’t home. Seriously though, give this album some love. What twelve year old boy won’t pop a new kind of semi to lyrics like “Lying on our backs/This is your parents' bed/A good place to be laid 'cos it's so neatly made/Staring at the ceiling/Vein to vein the lines look the same…”

Social Distortion “S/T”
I got a used tape of this at a shady record store on Broad St. in Richmond. A couple years later, my band practiced upstairs. A couple years after that, it became college dorms. It may be a Five Guys now. Does anyone remember Record Exchange on Broad St. in the mid-‘90s? The tape’s case is part melted. It’s plodding, snarly guitar music played by people who call rock music “rock ‘n’ roll,” but not in the way that black people do when they make fun of white music. It’s so vacuous that I played it every day at the beginning of twelfth grade, after I got dumped by a straight edge girl and was too depressed to listen to any of my records that had “deep” lyrics, like Sensefield or Texas is the Reason.

Jawbreaker “24 Hour Revenge Therapy”
Speaking of music with “deep” lyrics, me and said straight edge girl played this tape twice through when we drove from Richmond to DC in her Jetta to see a museum exhibit on beat poets. We started dating that day. I remember looking at her driving to “I love you more than I ever loved anyone before or anyone to come. Someone said your name and I thought of you alone, but I was still the same, twenty blocks away.” I really liked the “twenty blocks away” part, being relatively new to city life and enamored with the idea of lives piled on top of other lives. This was the first album I had that I associated with a relationship. Like many other punky couples in the mid-‘90s, Jawbreaker was “our” band. Mountain dew was “our” drink. We broke up. Jets to Brazil was a letdown. She wound up in a halfway house. I drank on twenty-five pounds.

Run DMC “Raising Hell”
The first record I ever got. Still have it and it still has abrasions at the beginning of “It’s Tricky,” from where I scratched it one morning on my Dad’s old record player. I was probably wearing sweatpants. I was in third grade. I still have that record player. The next year, my Dad took me to see “Tougher Than Leather” at a seedy movie theater in Boston. What a cool guy. Just got this email from him: “DUDE!!!!!!!!!!!! You are MUCH better looking that Justin Timberlake!!!!!!!!
Dad”

Michael Jackson “Bad”
My parents would clear the coffee table out of the living room and play “Thriller” while my sister and I danced to it. We couldn’t go to the back of the room because then we’d make the record skip. I’d hide behind my Mom’s legs when Vincent Price came on “Thriller.” “Bad” was the first time I was excited about the impending release of an album; the first time I remember counting down to the release date so that I could finally hear it. Years later, my dad told me he thought it was a letdown, but in 1986, my mother bought a pair of glittery silver gloves, and I got the left one because I’m a lefty, and my friend Dave got the right hand one, and we all know that shiny gloves trump the opinions of forty year old men forever plus infinity.

Constantines “S/T”
Before they turned into a cut-rate Silver Bullet Band, the Constantines sounded like Bruce Springsteen and Paul Westerberg singing for Fugazi. I first heard these guys in a tattoo parlor on Bowery. My friend Myles was working there and Sharon and I had stopped in. I was twenty-five, starting to leave the band life behind. I found this album used and played it while cooking, kicking myself, amazed that someone else had started a band that sounded like what I wanted my own music to sound like, and there I was, winding down playing music, frying tofu, tying one on and screwing up at my office job.

Saturday Night Fever OST
An all-time low was when I was standing in line in a Dunkin’ Donuts on 6th Ave. in Manhattan, wearing thrift store Dockers, on my lunch break from my stupid office job, bobbing my head to “Staying Alive.” Before ordering a donut and iced coffee, I realized that that week, two years before, I’d been at the beginning of a 100-day punk rock band tour, having sex in a car in a rainstorm, and then sleeping on a beach. What happens to our priorities as we age?

Leonard Cohen Best Of
Bought this and Karp’s “Suplex” on my way home from work when I was sixteen and grounded because my parents had caught me smoking pot in the apartment. Cohen has this great way of using self-deprecation to put the subjects of his songs on a pedestal. He also gave glimpses of this tempestuous, jet-setting bohemian life that I began to aspire to while in eleventh grade.

Beck “One Foot in the Grave”
A couple long weeks after we moved to Richmond, my best friend from Boston was in Baltimore, visiting his grandmother. My parents were nice enough to make a daytrip to Maryland so I could see him. I was already into “Mellow Gold,” and found this CD at a strip mall indie record store in Baltimore. Within fifteen minutes, I had to say goodbye to my best friend, be bummed that I had to drive three hours to find a good record store, and then get in a car back to Richmond, after getting about a third of the way back to Massachusetts. I played this album at night when I couldn’t sleep and was tired of reading Sherlock Holmes stories. I was staying in my father’s childhood bedroom. The street we lived on was super narrow, and the boomin’ systems in cars would set off the alarms in parked cars up the block as they cruised by. I loved the photos on the insert. It looked like Beck was this weird stoner guru who lived in a big house with these other guys who all jammed with him, and they made records in the living room. I’d hope that life in Richmond would be like that. This was the first album that got me interested in the idea of boiling down a song until it’s just a person and a guitar.

Wu-Tang Clan “Enter The 36 Chambers”
This guy Gabe who insisted that Jeru was “Jeru the Dah-mah-zhah,” not “Jeru the Damager,” taped this for me when I was in ninth grade. It sounded like it was from another planet where thugs were also geeks and they hung around together all the time, making up new words.

Outkast “Aquemini”
Convinced my uptight punk rock ass that hip-hop was still awesome even though I’d stopped paying attention in 1995 when it was “too materialistic” and I held all artists to unfair ethical standards. I first heard it when I was smoking pot with one of my friends from class and his roommate who was one of those weird white guys who was racist but didn’t realize it. I remember we got all stoned, then the roommate guy put this album on and talked about how it made him “just want to sit around on the porch, eating chicken.” Then I got the munchies, and ate one of their pot brownies, and when I got home that night, the brownie kicked in and I just lay on my bed replaying the rain noises at the beginning of the first Black Sabbath album. Other things about those guys: They had an Insane Clown Posse-influenced band that had a fast punk song that was an ode to me. The racist guy was the primary vocalist, and he mainly rapped. But, he also talked about how the “nigger basketball players” on his dorm floor made too much noise. Confused yet? Isn’t it weird that I was so jumpy about my music, but still hung out with the likes of this guy?

Prince “Purple Rain”
Just a favorite record. I heard it on the radio all the time when I was five, and then my Dad played it at home a lot. It’s amazing. Prince is amazing. He didn’t change my life because I feel like he’s always been a part of it. This record’s got something for most every mood. I’ve cried to it, I’ve danced to it, I’ve thrown it on for the fuck of it. It’s all things to me. I love it.

Pharcyde “Bizarre Ride II”
The soundtrack to the end of eighth grade, when I was just old enough to go into the city on my own. I was about to go into high school and was listening to a crew of friends, just out of high school, telling all of the embarrassing and crazy stories of their teenage years, but making all of the lousy shit just seem light-hearted. Favorite lyric, “I got more flavors than 7-11 Slurpees/If Magic can admit he got AIDS, then fuck it, I got herpes.”

Elliott Smith “Either/Or”
Back to the “one guy with a guitar” thing. I played this every day summer of 1998 when I was first living on my own. I’d even take bummed out walks with it on my headphones when I couldn’t sleep. It was kind of a guilty pleasure because it was a lot wimpier than the hardcore I usually listened to, or the 1970s glam that my macho older brother-figure roommate would play.

The Newton Free Library
I need to just give props to the public library in the town where I grew up. In eighth and ninth grade, I taped a lot of albums that I checked out from here. It’s how my $5 a week allowance having ass got into punk. It’s where I first heard the Velvet Underground, The Cramps, The Buzzcocks and The Clash. This Jose Cuervo Silver shit ain’t bad. On sale at Jewel/Osco as I type!

PS - Photo stolen from Nick Pinkerton. I assume it's his back.

Gullible Zine #29 Out Now

2009-02-21T18:17:00.000-08:00

Hooray! I've managed to keep my zine numbers aligned with my age. I hit 30 next month.
So, hecky-yeah, Gullible #29 is ready for the reading. A lot of the writing in here is about stuff my family was going through in the early/mid-'90s. I've pasted an excerpt below. If you'd like a copy and you live in the U.S., PayPal $1 and your address to i_will_dare@hotmail.com.

" Adults who pound rum ‘n’ cokes at eleven in the morning usually end up going to meetings, but ninth graders who do it think it’s fucking awesome.
The temptation had been too great. Speaking of adults who drink in the morning, my second period English teacher hadn’t shown up that day. We had a substitute who sat at the desk, reading. I scooted my bag out the door with me when I went on a bathroom break, and walked home for an early lunch. The lights were off and the car was gone and the bottle of Bacardi Dark was calling to me. I wasn’t a big drinker. I was at that weird in-between age where my friends’ older siblings weren’t old enough to buy booze, so drugs were easier for us to get. I liked pot and hash when I could find it, and otherwise, I experimented with crap around the medicine cabinet and cleaning supplies.
I poured a tumbler half full from the two liter of Coke that my dad would leave uncapped on the counter because he didn’t like the bubbles, then topped my drink off with two fingers of rum. It was one of those plastic cups with the little water-filled window on the side, and it showed a deep-sea scene with colorful plastic seahorses and starfish bobbing about in the sparkly water. I capsized the cup and refilled it, feeling the warm fuzz in my head along with the molasses aftertaste of the liquor.
I’d been drunk once before. It was New Year’s Eve in fifth grade and I was watching a Bond movie on TV with my parents. My mom poured me a glass of champagne, the booze the color of her hair, saying “You’re not gonna like this.” My dad told me about the sex scenes that they’d cut out for the TV version of the film.
I did like the champagne, and I downed it like ginger ale, eating more of the Velveeta dip that my father had made on the stove. I finagled another glass and my head felt bubbly. James Bond was funny. I felt like I could tell my parents anything.
“I’ve gotta go fart.” I ran from the TV room and opened the door, then stood in the dining room and ripped one.
“Shh! You’re gonna wake up Caitlin!” Dad was always protective of my little sister. Mom took my empty wineglass away.
But there was no one home now. No one to wake up, so I grabbed my skateboard and headed back to where my friends were...school. I slalomed through suburban streets and into the high school parking lot."

"Black Flies" Book Review on MostlyFiction.com

2009-01-29T12:57:00.000-08:00

I wrote a book review and the fine folks at Mostly Fiction were kind enough to publish it. The book's called "Black Flies," and it's about a NYC EMT in the 1990s. You can read the review here.

The Cover Of Gullible 29

2009-01-23T09:45:00.000-08:00

Here's the cover of Gullible Zine #29. I've just got a couple small final layout things to do, and then the zine should be done and ready to copy. So, let's hope my student loan check comes soon. And, if anyone knows any copy hook-ups in Chicago, hit me up.

Bye-Bye Bush!

2009-01-19T22:08:00.001-08:00

T-Pain On A Segway

2009-01-14T18:57:00.000-08:00

Is This Racist? Funny?

2009-01-14T18:46:00.000-08:00

These coupons were in the mail the other day. I love fried chicken (I know, I know), so they caught my attention, because I'm always looking for a break in this world. And then I saw that one of the coupons only works on Martin Luther King Day.
That's funny because I remember going to Popeye's for lunch LAST MLK-Day, but it's messed up because MLK-Day is in honor of a black man, and one of the go-to black stereotypes is a love of fried chicken.
HMM.
I'm conflicted, because Popeye's is my favorite fast food chicken (KFC is just too hit or miss), and these photos make me want some, but I'm insulted that I'm being pandered to, even if the pandering is right on point and I wish I had that coupon last year.

I suppose that Popeye himself would like me to ask you to not print out this photo and bring it to his restaurant.

The FOOD LP

2009-01-08T09:17:00.000-08:00

Some guys I met when I lived in Richmond have a sludge-rock band called FOOD. This winter, they're releasing an LP on Molsook Records. I did some promo write-ups for the album, and if you want to check my technique, just go to the Molsook site. You can listen to FOOD there, or on their MySpace.
Hotep, y'all!

2008 Haiku Diary

2009-01-04T22:15:00.001-08:00

5-7-5/365 y'all.

Haiku 1/1/08

Started off proper,
eating good at the potluck
and biking around.

Haiku 1/2

It's windy out. Worrrd.
Work was super-mad wack. Worrrd.
Worked on grad apps. Worrrd.

Haiku 1/3

Got my new glasses
the new prescription is strong
made me off-balance.

Haiku 1/4

Weird dog licks my feet
after eating a dead mouse.
Almitra housesits.

Haiku 1/5

I'll do whatever
Sharon's doing. Except for
like, being a girl.

Haiku 1/6

A healthy balance
of jogging and deep-fried food,
green tea and liquor.

Haiku 1/7

Hail hail laundromat
with your reality shows
Game Boys and fried rice.

Haiku 1/8

Pissed off at my boss
couldn't focus afterwards
ate Korean food.

Haiku 1/9

Grad applications
polishing up my writing
and hoping real hard.

Haiku 1/10

Sat inside writing
until I got cranky and
started deleting.

Haiku 1/11

Think I'm done writing
and not soon enough, my man
driving myself nuts.

Haiku 1/12

I feel like I'm young
and living in the city.
RIP TRAVIS.

Haiku 1/13

Lil' celebration
because I sent off my first
grad application.

Haiku 1/14

Toughest thing ever:
Lifting weights in boxers while
listening to Queen.

Haiku 1/15

Bed at 9:30.
What am I? Geriatric?
Dreamed about coffee.

Haiku 1/16

The heat is broken.
Rum and spaghetti warm me
five blankets in bed.

Haiku 1/17

Life's a lot better
when you're at work for less than
half your waking hours.

Haiku 1/18

Stuck at work again
open bar compensation
makes no sense at all.

Haiku 1/19

Spent four whole hours
writing about how much I
love the Wu-Tang Clan.

Haiku 1/20

Feels like winter out
went to see Kareem and Myles
ate a meatball sub.

Haiku 1/21

Did more grad school stuff.
Prob'ly won't get in at all.
Waste a few haikus.

Haiku 1/22

Writer's group meeting!
Glad to be at it again.
Ideas already.

Haiku 1/23

Stayed home cooking up
tilapia tacos and
QT with Sharon.

Haiku 1/24

Work release party
questionable buffet food
deflicted tuna.

Haiku 1/25

There were a lot of
serial killer looking dudes
at the metal show.

Haiku 1/26

Cigarette party.
Our parents will never know
just what we're up to.

Haiku 1/27

Two longboard missions
plus a walk to the movies.
Still felt chill all day.

Haiku 1/28

Nine hours at work.
Caught attitude for leaving.
Come on grad school. Please?

Haiku 1/29

Extra hungry and
I don't know why. King fishwich,
donuts, potatoes.

Haiku 1/30

So much I can say.
Describe a scene, make jokes, or
knock out opponents.

Haiku 2/1

Stuck at work 'til 8.
Got tipsy and ordered a
Proclaimers CD.

Haiku 2/2

Caught up on reading
and started a new story.
Hardly put on pants.

Haiku 2/3

Eighth grade me's jealous;
Watching graffiti, skating,
"The Low End Theory."

Haiku 2/4

Walking to the train
full of coffee in flurries
and Mexican jazz.

Haiku 2/5

Full of leftovers
hyped up and manic all day
threatening to rain.

Haiku 2/6

Why are birds singing
with a month of winter left?
It is sixty out...

Haiku 2/7

Went to an art play
and thoroughly enjoyed it,
cos I'm cultural.

Haiku 2/8

Super lazy day
VHS tapes of stand-up
beer on the futon.

Haiku 2/9

Two gin sips away
from starting the dance party.
Three from throwing up.

Haiku 2/10

Oh, consequences.
Machiavellian payback
for Catholic juice.

Haiku 2/11

Fifteen degrees out
and the boiler is broken.
Hard times in NY.

Haiku 2/12

The heat's still broken
at least I can't see my breath
slept in a knit cap.

Haiku 2/13

Slush city nonstop
jacked up on cafe negro
fastest jog ever.

Haiku 2/14

Happy Valentine's!
Cooked like crazy for Sharon
and the heat's back on.

Haiku 2/15

Half day on the job
Chinatown bus to Boston
to walk in the wind.

Haiku 2/16

Walked around all day.
Got drunk with some knucklehead
friends from junior high.

Haiku 2/17

Dreary bus ride home
questionable buffet food
hangover sleep-off.

Haiku 2/18

If the bank is closed
then I shouldn't have to work.
Got Popeye's instead.

Haiku 2/19

It's a full moon out
I can't focus or relax.
Should be out howling.

Haiku 2/20

A lunar eclipse
seen from a windy rooftop
by the rape castle.

Haiku 2/21

Got vegan tapas
and then some beer at an old
Village speakeasy.

Haiku 2/22

Barber school haircuts
dickhead move and penishead hair
what you're paying for.

Haiku 2/23

Got the cabbie lost
with my drunk backseat driving.
My cat scratched my face.

Haiku 2/24

Walked around a lot.
Had drinks with a high school friend.
Tipsy DiGiorno.

Haiku 2/25

Life, laundry, lentils
looped the park, landed some work
lauded for rocking.

Haiku 2/26

Baked some yam biscuits
then went out for a drink.
Starting to like gin.

Haiku 2/27

Bolting for the bus
with a stomach full of food.
Belching Mexican.

Haiku 2/28

Work stacked on my desk
couldn't do street meat Thursday
settled for salad.

Haiku 2/29

Late Friday at work
compensated by drinking
with Neil and Jess.

Haiku 3/1

Got pilled the fuck up
and stood outside a nightclub
freezing my ass off.

Haiku 3/2

B65 bus.
We could have walked home and back
for all we waited.

Haiku 3/3

Guess what? It's nice out!
Guess what? I'm in an office!
I'm climate controlled!

Haiku 3/4

Psyched out about school
should be hearing back any day
scared I won't get in.

Haiku 3/5

Ran myself ragged
over the last week or so.
Premium good times.

Haiku 3/6

Wrote all day at work.
Hey, what the hell, I got paid
to be creative.

Haiku 3/7

It's Streetmeat Friday!
The hot sauce was no joke, son.
Our meat's the streetest.

Haiku 3/8

Saw an awning fall
when I was high in the rain.
City Island date.

Haiku 3/9

The Red Hook sunset
supermarket parking lot
big thing of T.P.

Haiku 3/10

Skipped a free rock show
to go and do my laundry.
What happened to me?

Haiku 3/11

Don't slack on your mack.
If you're not down with chilling
then we can't hang out.

Haiku 3/12

Cranking out this zine,
watching it come together,
eating chorizo.

Haiku 3/13

Got some freelance work
editing some filth-flarn-filth
with "sex" in the name.

Haiku 3/14

Got into grad school!
One thing - It’s in Chicago.
Tough decisions soon.

Haiku 3/15

Serious dude date
weed, cheeseburgers, daylight beer
the roof, Prospect Park.

Haiku 3/16

Dicked around the house
thinking about Chicago.
it was dreary out.

Haiku 3/17

Anti St. Patrick’s.
Cooked some Korean food and
didn’t touch a drop.

Haiku 3/18

Got a sweet tattoo
of an angler fish from Myles.
Ill shit from the depths.

Haiku 3/19

Went out with work folks
while coming down with a cold
nodding on the train.

Haiku 3/20

Went to a punk show
saw some old friends, drank whiskey
and secondhand smoked.

Haiku 3/21

Fuckin’ Equinox!
Wind just about crashed my bike
damn winter headcold.

Haiku 3/22

Stupid move alert:
Getting drunk at 5pm
to fight a headcold.

Haiku 3/23

A good tax return
biking around bugging out
nervous energy.

Haiku 3/24

Ill Italian meal
and then walked over the bridge.
New "CSI"s on!

Haiku 3/25

I’m the only March
at the office birthday bash.
They all sang to me.

Haiku 3/26

Made lots of copies
just stacking up my zines like
Lil Wayne stacks paper.

Haiku 3/27

Went to a reading
by an old family friend
for his book release.

Haiku 3/28

I left work early
because I lead a wild life
you don’t understand.

Haiku 3/29

I turned 29
had a fish fry at my place
then saw some burlesque.

Haiku 3/30

Post birthday clean-up.
Guess I’ll wipe the collard greens
off the kitchen wall.

Haiku 3/31

Hank Junior was right
about hangovers hurting
more than they used to.

Haiku 4/1

Writing Group meeting
hoping for some May flowers
soaked to the damn bone.

Haiku 4/2

Busting ass at work.
I’m going to Florida
gotta get ahead.

Haiku 4/3

Stone cold rejected
by my number one school choice.
Chicago’s looming.

Haiku 4/4

Up super early
walking dead in Florida
shuffling with the greys.

Haiku 4/5

Did some old folks stuff
and saw giraffes and cougars
in a tourist trap.

Haiku 4/6

In St. Augustine
running into an old friend
and getting rained on.

Haiku 4/7

A delayed flight home
sugary margaritas
doing freelance work.

Haiku 4/8

Tired. Recovering.
Gonna have no life this week
thanks to freelance work.

Haiku 4/9

Finally well-rested
annoyed at work, feeling my oats
gets me through the day.

Haiku 4/10

Did no work at work,
then got my tattoo shaded.
Ouch! Delirious.

Haiku 4/11

Went out to Newark
to see Sharon's video.
Ate lots of hot wings.

Haiku 4/12

A fancy party
only guy in a t-shirt
full of Manhattans.

Haiku 4/13

Topped off that freelance
and chilled for the afternoon,
relaxing my mind.

Haiku 4/14

So, uh, did laundry
and ate leftover black beans
then died in my sleep.

Haiku 4/15

Anniversary.
Four years with Sharon so far.
We got a pizza.

Haiku 4/16

Worked on some writing.
Proud of those five syllables
want to use them more.

Haiku 4/17

Beers with an old friend.
Sharon and I stayed up late
finishing "The Wire."

Haiku 4/18

Big margarita
tapping my foot on the train
sugared up my night.

Haiku 4/19

Mashed sweet potatoes
stuffed into whole wheat biscuits
served with some salmon.

Haiku 4/20

Played reggae all day
mediocre Tex-Mex food
grape Dutchmaster wrap.

Haiku 4/21

Dry cleaner is late
pushing onto the subway
meeting is canceled.

Haiku 4/22

Leftover lentils
and up late on a school night,
the week crawling by.

Haiku 4/23

Antsy at my job
leftover lentils again
what the fuck ever.

Haiku 4/24

Chilled hard all night long
fighting off my allergies
full of cheddar sauce.

Haiku 4/25

I hope those cops fry-
getting a way with murder.
Sean Bell RIP.

Haiku 4/26

Astoria train.
Spent more time on the subway
then I did hanging.

Haiku 4/27

Epic housecleaning
then went to my friend Reid's and
biked down to Coney.

Haiku 4/28

Catfish dinner jam.
A full-on nerd convention
talking about books.

Haiku 4/29

This one flew right by
full of writing and cooking
and all the big hits.

Haiku 4/30

Wicked tired, dude.
Started nodding at like ten,
couldn't hardly write.

Haiku 5/1

On a work field trip.
Rooms where they test perfume and
a vat of lipstick.

Haiku 5/2

Evening time jogging
when there's less pollen falling
makes breathing better.

Haiku 5/3

Brainworms from Richmond
played two shows in NYC.
Both were bananas.

Haiku 5/4

I got a massage
but with no funny business!
Still feel like jelly.

Haiku 5/5

It's the fifth of May.
Drank tequila before bed,
and woke up sweating.

Haiku 5/6

Ritzy beer garden
a not-ritzy area
abundant douche chills.

Haiku 5/7

It's been a fast year
sad can feel like yesterday.
Rest in peace, Z-Man.

Haiku 5/8

My tattoo's finished
It's almost in my armpit.
That shit fucking hurt!

Haiku 5/9

Ate lots of cookies
while slacking off on the job
then got high at home.

Haiku 5/10

Sharon's video
coffee'd up in the dark
watching bad ones too.

Haiku 5/11

Copied some more zines
went to "Harold and Kumar"
and cooked yam biscuits.

Haiku 5/12

Ran out of work to
go to a daylight punk show.
We need more of these.

Haiku 5/13

Sharon's out of town
so I got real macho and
saw a musical.

Haiku 5/14

Cleaning out my desk
at home knee-deep in papers
pairing down to move.

Haiku 5/15

So bored at my job
I almost want to work to do
tired of internet.

Haiku 5/16

It's a rainy night
walking to bars stumbling home
dreaming damp and slow.

Haiku 5/17

A bachelor party.
Went to bed when it was light out
closed down a strip club.

Haiku 5/18

Still pretty banged up
and just dragging ass all day.
Took some zines to stores.

Haiku 5/19

Think I got pinkeye
sure I'm sick of my job and
happy for Sharon.

Haiku 5/20

Sharon got me cake.
If you're not down wiith chilling,
then we can't hang out.

Haiku 5/21

Burned some fried chicken
made the whole apartment smell
but made my night rule.

Haiku 5/22

Possible layoffs.
If I'm fired before I quit
I'll be furious.

Haiku 5/23

Baton Rouge guest house
antebellum cinderblocks
no ancestor's screams.

Haiku 5/24

Sweating while i eat
in a barn dancing to soul
watching friends get hitched.

Haiku 5/25

Scooby Doo mansion
full of beignets and whiskey
waiting for the ghosts.

Haiku 5/26

Past Mississippi
kindly Jesus freak sculptures
by a small bayou.

Haiku 5/27

Something must be wrong.
Didn't want to leave the south,
wake from the liquor.

Haiku 5/28

Ten hours at work.
Only catching up because
they pay me hourly.

Haiku 5/29

Packing for Richmond
feel like I just left the south.
Well, eh, whatever.

Haiku 5/30

Perfect Richmond night
running my mouth, filling it
holding down the porch.

Haiku 5/31

Out seeing friends
in the heat, under storm clouds.
Get better, Nathan.

Haiku 6/1

Drove back to Brooklyn
getting passenger sunburn
sleeping through Jersey.

Haiku 6/2

Put in my notice
IN YOUR FACE, MOTHERFUCKER
STABBED WITH A FREELANCE.

Haiku 6/3

Work kinda blew by.
Went out to eat with Kareem
drank beer and shot dice.

Haiku 6/4

Slept through my alarm
for a solid half hour.
Sleepy, compounded.

Haiku 6/5

Skillet mac 'n' cheese
sitting on the floor eating
getting mad primal.

Haiku 6/6

Won't focus at work
got my mind going elsewhere
psyched on the future.

Haiku 6/7

Homemade spaghetti
made a terrific mattress
for booze to sleep on.

Haiku 6/8

Sharon's last day here
chilling outside in the heat
just shocked or something.

Haiku 6/9

Getting rid of my
late '90s coffee maker.
My youth is leaving.

Haiku 6/10

Left my job early
took the train straight to the beach
and was there by two.

Haiku 6/11

I miss my Sharon.
Interviewed my replacement
the tables have turned.

Haiku 6/12

Three hour delay
on my flight to Chicago
to apartment hunt.

Haiku 6/13

Got credit info
then played wth Annie's three dogs
and crashed out early.

Haiku 6/14

I keep comparing
Chicago, Brooklyn, Boston.
It gets confusing.

Haiku 6/15

Flight delayed a bit
endless buses and trains home
my own bed felt good.

Haiku 6/16

Packing some boxes
watching a Chevy Chase flick
hanging with the cat.

Haiku 6/17

Packed all my CDs
then my iPod got erased.
No Wu 'til July.

Haiku 6/18

Pizza and beer session
catching buses to and from
tuned out loud neighbors.

Haiku 6/19

Successor training.
I keep saying "Whatever,"
"It doesn't matter."

Haiku 6/20

Last day at my job.
Skipped dinner, drank until one
didn't get misty.

Haiku 6/21

Wake 'n' bake beach trip
Manhattan enchiladas
nap plus ten hours.

Haiku 6/22

Packed up some more stuff
rained like crazy for a bit
made homemade pizza.

Haiku 6/23

Packed boxes all day.
Tacos with TN and Kat
drowned in tequila.

Haiku 6/24

Put things in boxes.
Put rain on my new sneakers.
Put beer in my mouth.

Haiku 6/25

Sold a ton of books
and then, guess what I did?
I packed some boxes!

Haiku 6/26

Almost done packing.
Wish I had two big boxes
for the random shit.

Haiku 6/27

Ate lots of chicken
and got the itis real bad.
Cured it with coffee.

Haiku 6/28

Sharon's back in town!
Guess what we did? Packed a lot!
And plotted ill shit.

Haiku 6/29

Last day in Brooklyn.
Got rained on at the beach and
went to bed early.

Haiku 6/30

Loaded up the truck
full of boxes and dressers.
Another gray hair.

Haiku 7/1

Got apartment keys,
spent obscene amounts of cash
on food and housewares.

Haiku 7/2

Caught up on some dumps
then jogged down to the lakefront.
Went to bed at 10.

Haiku 7/3

Beer, nachos for lunch.
Sorting out bills and bullshit
weird time difference.

Haiku 7/4

Caved on hot dogs and
biked during fireworks, ducking
stray bottlerockets.

Haiku 7/5

Redpath is in town.
Ate way too much vegan food
my ass paid the price.

Haiku 7/6

Last night for sleeping
on a big pile of blankets.
Moving tomorrow.

Haiku 7/7

Drove the moving truck.
Packed the fucking moving truck.
Filled the apartment.

Haiku 7/8

Unpacked a whole bunch.
And freeballed the whole day long-
even while jogging!

Haiku 7/9

Missed New York a bit
after some temp interviews,
pouting on the train.

Haiku 7/10

Decent interview
toaster oven iron chef
took a reggae jog.

Haiku 7/11

Met some new classmates.
"Married...With Children" fountain
across from my school.

Haiku 7/12

Slip 'n' slide party.
Backyard with a cheeseburger
trying barrel rolls.

Haiku 7/13

Just rested my dogs.
Getting back into biking
is rad but painful.

Haiku 7/14

Got the stove turned on
worked on a little writing
saw a metal show.

Haiku 7/15

Queasy hangover
interview with a midget
losing my damn mind.

Haiku 7/16

Did lots of writing
then winged and made dinner.
It came out awesome.

Haiku 7/17

Fruitful interview.
Got trial days...in August.
Then went to the lake.

Haiku 7/18

Got called in to work
made my first Chicago bucks.
Stayed in broke at night.

Haiku 7/19

Middle aged white dudes
are driving convertibles
all through Chicago.

Haiku 7/20

Caught a chill last night
biking home in the downpour.
Rested up and read.

Haiku 7/21

Hardly left the house.
Dicked around online, half-dressed
and read a whole lot.

Haiku 7/22

Oh the irony.
Reading on insomnia
when sleep's not coming.

Haiku 7/23

Dropped off resumes
at some coffee shops as if
I was still nineteen.

Haiku 7/24

Hung stuff on my walls,
ate five dollar burgers and
played guitars with Seth.

Haiku 7/25

Suburban cookout.
Got drunk, then Neil came to town-
got me drunk again!

Haiku 7/26

Walked with friends in town.
Sweating out the hangover,
full of Elvis toast.

Haiku 7/27

Assorted household
responsiblities and
fun obligations.

Haiku 7/28

Temp job moving files.
It's about as exciting
as you'd imagine.

Haiku 7/29

Moving files again.
Like "American Splendor"
without cool drawings.

Haiku 7/30

Finished my temp job
microwave exploded breakfast
paper cut, sharted.

Haiku 7/31

Feel sick and run down.
Bullshitting around the house
resting up and stuff.

Haiku 8/1

One month in The Chi.
Realized while walking to work.
Things are looking up.

Haiku 8/2

Biked down to the lake
and expected salt water.
Didn't get sticky.

Haiku 8/3

Went to a cookout.
It had an above-ground pool
and pepper poppers.

Haiku 8/4

Siobhan came to town
during the worst thunderstorm.
Sharon's windshield cracked.

Haiku 8/5

Woke up with pinkeye
got lost on my way downtown
they closed the lake beach.

Haiku 8/6

After housecleaning
I went up to the suburbs
to drink sangria.

Haiku 8/7

Actually worked
a full eight hour work day.
I'd do that again.

Haiku 8/8

Recruiter meeting.
Just like the eight other ones.
Papers, promises.

Haiku 8/9

Went to a punk fest
hung like sweat in a basement,
beer in an alley

Haiku 8/10

Made food, took a nap
saw the Meat Puppets outside
and This Is My Fist.

Haiku 8/11

Did some dog walking
lazy through the river park
with a bag of shit.

Haiku 8/12

Worked on some writing
then fucked off all afternoon
and into the night.

Haiku 8/13

The nice little things
my toothpaste was two-for-one
I'm an old man now.

Haiku 8/14

Worked nine-plus hours
walked to some crazy park and
saw some free free jazz.

Haiku 8/15

My sister is in
Hawaii, eloping and
turning twenty-six.

Haiku 8/16

Omelette with sausage
and cauliflower, collards,
fried chicken, taters.

Haiku 8/17

The lake, a punk show.
Crammed in lots of relaxing.
It totally worked.

Haiku 8/18

Worked all day and then
not on the schedule again
until September.

Haiku 8/19

Worked on my writing
until I couldn't see straight,
then read for a while.

Haiku 8/20

Took a long bike ride
to do touristy stuff
downtown in the day.

Haiku 8/21

Making the best of
all these empty afternoons.
Saw outsider art.

Haiku 8/22

Drank some tequila
and smelled a house burning down
then missed the bus home.

Haiku 8/23

Registered for school
pitbull on a trampoline
fire in the lawn.

Haiku 8/24

Ate some eggs and then
went to the lake for a sec.
Topped it off with shrimp.

Haiku 8/25

Sat around broke, bored
feeling sorry for myself,
then saw jazz for free.

Haiku 8/26

Temping for the day.
Supervisor left at three
and I chilled 'til five.

Haiku 8/27

Sold clothes and CDs
ate some leftover meatballs
worked on some writing.

Haiku 8/28

Twelve hour temp gig
helping Niketown swooshbags
go run a 10K.

Haiku 8/29

Overslept big time
and almost missed my flight to
my sister's wedding.

Haiku 8/30

A tasteful take on
a casual reception,
plus hot wing platter.

Haiku 8/31

Hit the Rockaways.
Real beaches have salt water
and loud reggaeton.

Haiku 9/1

No sweat on the flight.
Was greeted at home by a
huge student loan check.

Haiku 9/1

No sweat on the flight.
Was greeted at home by a
huge student loan check.

Haiku 9/2

Long live Nathan Joyce.
You had me convinced you were
gonna beat cancer.

Haiku 9/3

Second day of school.
I'm going wigger this year
so I wore JNCos.

Haiku 9/4

Back to school equals
reintroducing homework
into my schedule.

Haiku 9/5

Night of wandering
to a southside art opening
eating Chinese trays.

Haiku 9/6

Got a new kitten
and he likes our other cat
more than he's liked back.

Haiku 9/7

K-Mart wild goose chase
watching my afternoon fade
blow off coffee steam.

Haiku 9/8

The new kitten's sick
and shitting on both couches.
Not sure about this.

Haiku 9/9

Got woke up by a
screaming 5 a.m. kitten.
He's at the vet now.

Haiku 9/10

Burped eggs while running
then drank too much coffee and
ate Mexican food.

Haiku 9/11

Proofreading then school
didn't see Sharon awake
cat games on the floor.

Haiku 9/12

Got my bike fixed up.
Rain like a motherfucker
kept me from riding.

Haiku 9/13

Housewarming party
lots of beer and fried chicken
and rain seeping in.

Haiku 9/14

Pretty hungover.
Proud to say I can't drink like
I used to back when.

Haiku 9/15

Went to a reading
then worked on my own writing.
No arithmetic.

Haiku 9/16

Ran a few errands,
looking for excuses to
be out in the warmth.

Haiku 9/17

The kitten's farting
and it smells like death and worms
crawling at my feet.

Haiku 9/18

Made a shepherd's pie
and managed to stay awake
through my third night class.

Haiku 9/19

Saw Dillinger 4.
Felt like I was in high school
but in a good way.

Haiku 9/20

Relaxed in the cut
happy because my new zine
got a good review.

Haiku 9/21

Secondhand smoke coughs
singled out for comedy
in the cold A.C.

Haiku 9/22

Got cabin fever
felt strangely on edge all day
was unproductive.

Haiku 9/23

Freelance file's fucked.
On hold with AT+T
for forty minutes.

Haiku 9/24

Ate too much sugar
and woke up feeling my teeth
worn out from grinding.

Haiku 9/25

It's Sharon's birthday!
And I've got work and then class.
Some boyfriend I am.

Haiku 9/26

Slow freelance work day
doing homework at my desk
waiting for the night.

Haiku 9/27

Peanut butter pie
afternoon walking around
Sharon's birthday drinks.

Haiku 9/28

Just felt kinda off
like I wanted to sleep more
but get some shit done.

Haiku 9/29

Drunk couple dancing
knocks into me at Nick Cave.
Gum thrown in her purse.

Haiku 9/30

L'shanah tovah!
Sharon was off work so we
ate deep dish pizza.

Haiku 10/1

Still full from pizza
afternoon doing writing
registered to vote.

Haiku 10/2

Drank plenty root beer
while doing all my homework
and biking to class.

Haiku 10/3

Wrong side of the bed
waiting for late freelance work
getting bit by cats.

Haiku 10/4

Mike Birbiglia.
Neurotic younger brother
doing comedy.

Haiku 10/5

Firm stance against brunch,
but enjoyed that omelette
and extra coffee.

Haiku 10/6

Offered coffee work.
The hours would be shitty
but I can't say no.

Haiku 10/7

Caught in the downpour
soaking my shoes before class
and eating Wendy's.

Haiku 10/8

Doing some freelance
for the "Uncle Buck" high school
out in the suburbs.

Haiku 10/9

Feeling pretty burnt
packing for a weekend trip
involving hot tubs.

Haiku 10/10

Real friendly freelance
a hot tub that won't turn off
bourbon on the floor.

Haiku 10/11

Checked out Madison
ducking fratboys pre-gaming
swinging sledgehammers.

Haiku 10/12

Back to Chicago
could it be feeling like home?
Been here just three months.

Haiku 10/13

Back to the boring
biking out for groceries
cleaning off my desk.

Haiku 10/14

Epic bike flat tire
bumping people on the train
schlepping it back home.

Haiku 10/15

Fucked up Sharon's bike
while out to buy a new bag
cause my old one broke.

Haiku 10/16

More bike debacle
schlepping them both on the train
cyclist Calvary.

Haiku 10/17

Done with the bike shit
ate loads of Mexican food
home in a hail storm.

Haiku 10/18

Longboard flannel jam
root beer-fueled "Gleaming the Cube"
skating A to B.

Haiku 10/19

Spilling ginger ale
on my kitchen floor, eating
skillet mac and cheese.

Haiku 10/20

You can see your breath
on your first venture outside
in the afternoon.

Haiku 10/21

And the heat comes on
hissing and clanking, warning
of winter to come.

Haiku 10/22

Still acclimating
to the Chicago accent
and stifling chuckles.

Haiku 10/23

The first day from hell
would have been tolerable
if asleep by nine.

Haiku 10/24

Freelance day was sweet.
Got paid to see The Mekons
play at a high school.

Haiku 10/25

Went to two parties
fueling my engine with beer
pizza and cupcakes.

Haiku 10/26

Went to the punk shop
and got a Misfits shirt to
wear on Halloween.

Haiku 10/27

Coffeeshop training
I'm totally regressing
twenty one again.

Haiku 10/28

More coffeeshop time
forgot how the smell of grounds
lingers on clothing.

Haiku 10/29

Craving fried chicken
surfing the slow internet
instead of working.

Haiku 10/30

Just going non-stop
from work to homework to school
warehouse bike ride home.

Haiku 10/31

Seth really turned green
so we skipped the party and
ate heaps of fried shrimp.

Haiku 11/1

Drove to Milwaukee.
The sexiest outlet mall
is on the way home.

Haiku 11/2

Computer all day
procrastinating, clicking
going stir crazy.

Haiku 11/3

Finished this freelance
rid of my mental block had
a writing breakthrough.

Haiku 11/4

Up at dawn to vote.
Amazed this is happening
it feels like a dream.

Haiku 11/5

Obama eclipsed
by Jamie Ewing's passing.
Died young, living hard.

Haiku 11/6

Spent all day working
burying my nose in books
covering my thoughts.

Haiku 11/7

Proofread, marked, erased
drew shots, steamed milk, brewed coffee
swept, mopped, wiped...tacos.

Haiku 11/8

Showtime's car got hit
after we had girl's night out
in the wet, raw wind.

Haiku 11/9

Hungover hot mess
listless, useless, slow-going
craving some more sleep.

Haiku 11/10

Amy tattooed me.
The needle kept hitting nerves
making my leg jump.

Haiku 11/11

Once I left the house
it had already got dark
but the rain let up.

Haiku 11/12

Late to the party
and all my friends are wasted
sums up pop culture.

Haiku 11/13

Did lots of writing
that's what I go to school for
and that's what I love.

Haiku 11/14

Got through closing shift
with fried chicken and lotion.
Drank with my classmates.

Haiku 11/15

Saw Bill Cosby with
casino human wreckage.
Still really funny.

Haiku 11/16

Saw video art
on radical history
here in Chicago.

Haiku 11/17

Winter beard day two.
Already leaving slug trails
up in them pantiez.

Haiku 11/18

Drank lots of coffee
walked through my dark neighborhood
ready for winter?

Haiku 11/19

Wind-related names
like "Breezeburg" or "Gustytown"
would do this town well.

Haiku 11/20

Feeling burnt on school
can't focus on my homework
ready for Christmas.

Haiku 11/21

Stupid yuppies talk
about their trip to Ireland
and real estate, natch.

Haiku 11/22

The punk show was cold
security loved their job
the drinks were pricey.

Haiku 11/23

My mom is sixty
her and my Dad are jobless
and I'm worrying.

Haiku 11/24

Back-to-back wing nights.
What the hell was I thinking?
Green tar in the john.

Haiku 11/25

Feeling real restless
need to get some more work done
if I could focus.

Haiku 11/26

Thinking about school
trying too hard to relax
stressing myself out.

Haiku 11/27

Colossal dairy
legendary red jug wine
gigantic stomach.

Haiku 11/28

I wish there was an
military recruiter
at this punk rock bar.

Haiku 11/29

If you mess with me
I'll put clumps of cat litter
in your whiskey cup.

Haiku 11/30

Almost finished with
the Thanksgiving leftovers.
Getting sick of cheese.

Haiku 12/1

Spent the afternoon
watching the city freeze over,
icicles stopping.

Haiku 12/2

Thirteen years ago
my high school punk band played a
battle of the bands.

Haiku 12/3

What a kick-ass day!
Super inspired writing
and Sharon was home.

Haiku 12/4

Long proofreading test.
Grouchy because I'm used to
getting paid for that.

Haiku 12/5

Suburban trek for
Italian beef sandwiches,
freezing train platforms.

Haiku 12/6

Jogging in the snow
procrastinating finals
yuppie pizza jam.

Haiku 12/7

When I go running
it's like recess in grade school
but at double speed.

Haiku 12/8

Coffee job stressing
keep getting petty critiques
"Close like a rock star?!"

Haiku 12/9

Dive bar down by school.
And so much for not drinking on
weeknights after class.

Haiku 12/10

Boiled over shit.
That's how bad sleep makes you feel
after three straight days.

Haiku 12/11

Last day of classes
but I declare fuckery
'cos I still have work.

Haiku 12/12

Wanted to party
fell asleep before midnight
but it sure felt good.

Haiku 12/13

My Grandmother died
and my Dad called it the best
Christmas present yet.

Haiku 12/14

Too much relaxing
balanced out all the homework
and feel full of beer.

Haiku 12/15

Some more sleeping in
making lists of things to do
but not doing them.

Haiku 12/16

On-the-ball returns
productivity is up
checking my lists twice.

Haiku 12/17

Sharon’s gifts to me
are all Wu-Tang Clan approved.
Chess, pull-up bar, soul..

Haiku 12/18

Played guitar at home
forgetting the neighbors and
their shit house music.

Haiku 12/19

Sneaking suspicion
I won't have coffee shop shifts
starting in January.

Haiku 12/20

Rent-a-car fuckers
closed their branch at the airport,
cancelled our rental.

Haiku 12/21

Whole time in the car
on the year's dark, shortest day
the sun going down.

Haiku 12/22

Hanging in Richmond
seeing family and friends.
Had missed the East Coast.

Haiku 12/23

Played out acoustic
for the first time in two years
and had a great time.

Haiku 12/24

It's good to see you.
Yes, it's cold in Chicago
and I'm loving school.

Haiku 12/25

Making drunk snacks and
set off the smoke alarm at
two in the morning.

Haiku 12/26

In the car all day
without visibility
because of the fog.

Haiku 12/27

So fucking sleepy
I spent all day just waiting
to go back to bed.

Haiku 12/28

Crapped away the day
then worked at the coffee shop
where it was real slow.

Haiku 12/29

At two different jobs
jumping right back in after
going out of town.

Haiku 12/30

Made a huge dinner
fell asleep watching "Cosby"
dreamed about Rudy.

Haiku 12/31

When the night includes
bottle rockets, Jack Daniels
and a joint, it's great.

MRR Thinks I'm A Lady

2008-11-20T06:44:00.000-08:00

Should I point out the irony of a copyeditor not doing their fact checking? It is a nice review, though.

From Maximum Rock 'n' Roll #301 - June '08:

"The author of this zine, like myself, is a copyeditor, so reading through Gullible #28 was a breeze. I was not confronted with repetitious uses of adjectives, erroneous subject verb agreement, or misplaced commas - a nice change from the garbage I had to read all day at school in the journalism lab. Besides her ability to construct a grammatically correct sentence, CT Terry is a really wonderful writer. Her short stories are vivid, funny, thoughtful, and take you to the place of the narrator. Her stories are told through the voice of a first-person narrator during their adolescence, but her tone and sense of humor remain consistent throughout each piece. The only weak part of the zine was the cartoons. Although some stood on their own, it was unclear whether certain cartoons were supplementary to the stories or unrelated. But the overall look of this zine was really clean and easy to approach, but still maintained cut and paste aesthetic. Although this zine is really good, it only promises to get better."

I should also mention how I've moved since this review was originally published, so if you wrote to my Brooklyn address and never heard back, and, by some miracle, you found this site, drop me a line through here.

Halloween Wishes

2008-10-31T09:06:00.000-07:00

I was in high school in the mid-‘90s. My girlfriend had a brother who was about three years younger than me, and he was just getting into punk rock. I was proud to be the guy who would tape albums for him or tell him when bands were playing. Every time I went to their house out Southside, there’d be a new poster on his wall, a colored vinyl re-release of a classic record on his new turntable, a just-bought black cotton band t-shirt crumpled on his floor.

The Misfits were everyone’s favorite band. At their best, they’d played melodic punk with chord progressions cribbed from ‘50s rock ‘n’ roll and b-movie inspired songs with names like “Return of the Fly.” The first tape I’d made for my girlfriend was ninety minutes long, with one side full of my favorite Misfits cuts, and the other a mix of stuff that I liked at the time. All punk and hardcore, probably.

This was before I had an email address, nevermind an internet where I could access band fan sites, and I’d spend Sunday afternoons playing Misfits records over and over, trying to crack the mystique of the lyrics that weren’t included in the albums.

I bought a Misfits shirt, black of course, featuring a colorful design of a graveyard, which had been drawn by heavy metal artist Pushead. I’d wear it, sweat through it, then it would go to the laundromat and come back for me to wear again. Rock, lather, repeat.

In 1996, The Misfits reformed and toured, but it was sacrilege because singer and bandleader Glenn Danzig was not part of the reunion. They had a new singer named Michael Graves, a guy in his early twenties, who supposedly had a deep, Elvis-after-midnight voice that sounded like Danzig’s. They were to play Richmond in April, and I bought tickets as soon as they went on sale. Wrong singer or not, this would be too cool to miss, and it wouldn’t matter if the new guy sounded like shit – everyone would be singing along too loud for it to matter.

Some friends of mine had three or four Misfits shirts. The classic designs featured old record covers and band logos, less than twenty years old but already vintage. With the reformed Misfits came a slew of new merchandise, with new art that was styled after the original shirts, but depicting macabre scenes from their new songs, or even featuring the title of their new album. The letters of the logo were slightly rounded on these new shirts and the art was more cartoonish, or tongue in cheek. From a distance, they looked like cool shirts, but up close, they were sacrilege, and having one of those on your body was proof positive that you weren’t a real fan. Anyone who’d liked The Misfits before they had reformed wouldn’t be caught dead in a New Misfits shirt.

My girlfriend’s brother had a New Misfits shirt, but he had an excuse; he was young. He was at the trial and error point in punkness where he was buying the wrong records by the right bands. Pulling the cock-rock Exploited LPs from the used bin, or buying “Cut the Crap,” the final Clash LP that didn’t even have Mick Jones on it.

That spring, I leant my graveyard Misfits shirt to my girlfriend. It was a thin cotton that shrunk up just right, and it looked good on her, but hell, in 11th grade, any Misfits shirt looked good on an already pretty girl.

A week later, she called to ask if her brother could wear it. “Of course.” I answered, “but only if he takes that Crass poster off his wall.”

One Saturday, my girlfriend came over, wearing my Misfits shirt. “I pulled it off my brother’s floor,” she said.

We took my family’s beagle for a walk down Grace St. It was sunny and the air wasn’t thick and disgusting like it gets at the end of spring in Richmond. Halfway down my block, my dog was sniffing around one of the planters on the sidewalk when I heard, “Hmm, what do you think this is?” from behind me.

My girlfriend had turned the bottom of the front of my Misfits shirt inside out and was looking at a pinkynail-sized stain that was right in the middle, two inches above the seam. It was a translucent pearl color. I jerked my head back, “Ugh! What do you think that is?”
“It looks like snot.”
“Why would snot be at waist level?”
“Waist level?”
“Yeah. Near the crotch.”
Her face crumpled, “Ewww!”
“Yeah.”
“Nooo!”
“You wanna borrow a clean shirt? You can, um, keep that one.”

...

It’s been twelve years since my girlfriend’s younger brother jerked off while wearing my Misfits shirt Porky Pig-style, without pants. I don’t wear many rock shirts anymore. It’s Halloween today. For what it’s worth, it’s my last Halloween before I turn thirty and drive a big wedge between my youth and me.

On Sunday, I went to a rock shop a couple miles down the road from my apartment, and I finally bought a new Misfits shirt. “New” as in to replace the one with the spooge stain, not “new” as in designed after the band’s reunion. I’m gonna wear it when I go out tonight. I don’t really dress up for Halloween anymore, so the t-shirt will be my costume. I might spill liquor on it, but I’ll try my damnedest not to cum on it, and I’d say that’s a minute example of what being an adult is all about.

On a related note, Vice ran an interesting interview with former Misfits member Bobby Steele today: http://www.viceland.com/int/v15n10/htdocs/bobby-steele-140.php?source=homepagefeature

Arty Polish Movie Posters

2008-09-22T08:09:00.000-07:00

WellMedicated.com posted these awesome Polish posters for American movies. They are art in and of themselves, even (or especially) when advertising lowbrow flicks like "Weekend At Bernies."

This is making me want to bust out The Decalogue.

Haiku Diary - June 2008

2008-09-20T15:20:00.000-07:00

Haiku 6/1

Drove back to Brooklyn
getting passenger sunburn
sleeping through Jersey.

Haiku 6/2

Put in my notice
IN YOUR FACE, MOTHERFUCKER
STABBED WITH A FREELANCE.

Haiku 6/3

Work kinda blew by.
Went out to eat with Kareem
drank beer and shot dice.

Haiku 6/4

Slept through my alarm
for a solid half hour.
Sleepy, compounded.

Haiku 6/5

Skillet mac 'n' cheese
sitting on the floor eating
getting mad primal.

Haiku 6/6

Won't focus at work
got my mind going elsewhere
psyched on the future.

Haiku 6/7

Homemade spaghetti
made a terrific mattress
for booze to sleep on.

Haiku 6/8

Sharon's last day here
chilling outside in the heat
just shocked or something.

Haiku 6/9

Getting rid of my
late '90s coffee maker.
My youth is leaving.

Haiku 6/10

Left my job early
took the train straight to the beach
and was there by two.

Haiku 6/11

I miss my Sharon.
Interviewed my replacement
the tables have turned.

Haiku 6/12

Three hour delay
on my flight to Chicago
to apartment hunt.

Haiku 6/13

Got credit info
then played wth Annie's three dogs
and crashed out early.

Haiku 6/14

I keep comparing
Chicago, Brooklyn, Boston.
It gets confusing.

Haiku 6/15

Flight delayed a bit
endless buses and trains home
my own bed felt good.

Haiku 6/16

Packing some boxes
watching a Chevy Chase flick
hanging with the cat.

Haiku 6/17

Packed all my CDs
then my iPod got erased.
No Wu 'til July.

Haiku 6/18

Pizza and beer session
catching buses to and from
tuned out loud neighbors.

Haiku 6/19

Successor training.
I keep saying "Whatever,"
"It doesn't matter."

Haiku 6/20

Last day at my job.
Skipped dinner, drank until one
didn't get misty.

Haiku 6/21

Wake 'n' bake beach trip
Manhattan enchiladas
nap plus ten hours.

Haiku 6/22

Packed up some more stuff
rained like crazy for a bit
made homemade pizza.

Haiku 6/23

Packed boxes all day.
Tacos with TN and Kat
drowned in tequila.

Haiku 6/24

Put things in boxes.
Put rain on my new sneakers.
Put beer in my mouth.

Haiku 6/25

Sold a ton of books
and then, guess what I did?
I packed some boxes!

Haiku 6/26

Almost done packing.
Wish I had two big boxes
for the random shit.

Haiku 6/27

Ate lots of chicken
and got the itis real bad.
Cured it with coffee.

Haiku 6/28

Sharon's back in town!
Guess what we did? Packed a lot!
And plotted ill shit.

Haiku 6/29

Last day in Brooklyn.
Got rained on at the beach and
went to bed early.

Haiku 6/30

Loaded up the truck
full of boxes and dressers.
Another gray hair.

Haiku Diary - May 2008

2008-09-20T14:43:00.000-07:00

Haiku 5/1

On a work field trip.
Rooms where they test perfume and
a vat of lipstick.

Haiku 5/2

Evening time jogging
when there's less pollen falling
makes breathing better.

Haiku 5/3

Brainworms from Richmond
played two shows in NYC.
Both were bananas.

Haiku 5/4

I got a massage
but with no funny business!
Still feel like jelly.

Haiku 5/5

It's the fifth of May.
Drank tequila before bed,
and woke up sweating.

Haiku 5/6

Ritzy beer garden
a not-ritzy area
abundant douche chills.

Haiku 5/7

It's been a fast year
sad can feel like yesterday.
Rest in peace, Z-Man.

Haiku 5/8

My tattoo's finished
It's almost in my armpit.
That shit fucking hurt!

Haiku 5/9

Ate lots of cookies
while slacking off on the job
then got high at home.

Haiku 5/10

Sharon's video
coffee'd up in the dark
watching bad ones too.

Haiku 5/11

Copied some more zines
went to "Harold and Kumar"
and cooked yam biscuits.

Haiku 5/12

Ran out of work to
go to a daylight punk show.
We need more of these.

Haiku 5/13

Sharon's out of town
so I got real macho and
saw a musical.

Haiku 5/14

Cleaning out my desk
at home knee-deep in papers
pairing down to move.

Haiku 5/15

So bored at my job
I almost want to work to do
tired of internet.

Haiku 5/16

It's a rainy night
walking to bars stumbling home
dreaming damp and slow.

Haiku 5/17

A bachelor party.
Went to bed when it was light out
closed down a strip club.

Haiku 5/18

Still pretty banged up
and just dragging ass all day.
Took some zines to stores.

Haiku 5/19

Think I got pinkeye
sure I'm sick of my job and
happy for Sharon.

Haiku 5/20

Sharon got me cake.
If you're not down wiith chilling,
then we can't hang out.

Haiku 5/21

Burned some fried chicken
made the whole apartment smell
but made my night rule.

Haiku 5/22

Possible layoffs.
If I'm fired before I quit
I'll be furious.

Haiku 5/23

Baton Rouge guest house
antebellum cinderblocks
no ancestor's screams.

Haiku 5/24

Sweating while i eat
in a barn dancing to soul
watching friends get hitched.

Haiku 5/25

Scooby Doo mansion
full of beignets and whiskey
waiting for the ghosts.

Haiku 5/26

Past Mississippi
kindly Jesus freak sculptures
by a small bayou.

Haiku 5/27

Something must be wrong.
Didn't want to leave the south,
wake from the liquor.

Haiku 5/28

Ten hours at work.
Only catching up because
they pay me hourly.

Haiku 5/29

Packing for Richmond
feel like I just left the south.
Well, eh, whatever.

Haiku 5/30

Perfect Richmond night
running my mouth, filling it
holding down the porch.

Haiku 5/31

Out seeing friends
in the heat, under storm clouds.
Get better, Nathan.

'90s Buzzbin Rock DJ Mix

2008-09-20T13:54:00.000-07:00

I found this on my favorite hip-hop blog a couple weeks ago, and it had me making "Is that Freedom Rock? Turn it up!"-esque phone calls to my friends.

"Radio Friendly Unit Shifter" is a DJ mix put together by Nick Catchdubs and Mr. Ducker. It features thirty-eight tracks of alternative rock from the '90s, often mixed together in a clever way (check out how they carry the drums from "Beercan" over into "Start Choppin'"), and featuring soundbites from '90s movies like "Reservoir Dogs."

All the songs seem to be from the first half of the '90s, so the earlier tracks are from when I was excited by all of the modern rock on the radio, and the later ones were from when I was too punk for the radio. A decade later, I find myself enjoying the songs I was too punk for before (The Toadies, anyone?), glad to hear some old favorites like Beck, and getting nostalgic for Temple Of The Dog and other stuff that I found annoying back when because, obviously, the radio pap of my youth is so much better than the radio pap of today.

Funny thing: My cougar of a girlfriend is a couple years older than me and is bummed on all of the songs I liked in seventh grade because she was in high school then, and she remembers those as the songs by her once-favorite bands that the jocks at her high school ruined by getting into.

Here's the download link, and below is the tracklist.

1. L7 - Pretend We’re Dead
2. Sonic Youth - 100%
3. Folk Implosion - Natural One
4. King Missile - Detachable Penis
5. Beck - Beercan
6. Dinosaur Jr - Start Choppin’
7. Meat Puppets - Backwater ‘
8. Pavement - Cut Your Hair
9. Nirvana - Sliver
10. Foo Fighters - I’ll Stick Around
11. Porno For Pyros - Tahitian Moon
12. Temple Of The Dog - Hunger Strike
13. Tripping Daisy - I Got A Girl
14. Primus - Wynonas Big Brown Beaver
15. Body Count - There Goes The Neighborhood
16. Offspring - Come Out And Play
17. Rancid - Roots Radicals
18. Supergrass - Caught By The Fuzz
19. Weezer - El Scorcho
20. Green Day - Longview
21. Harvey Danger - Flagpole Sitta
22. Rage Against The Machine - Bulls On Parade
23. Bjork - Army Of Me
24. Soundgarden - Outshined
25. Red Hot Chili Peppers - Suck My Kiss
26. Tribe Called Quest - Oh My God (Live @ The Tibetan Freedom Concert)
27. Cypress Hill - How I Could Just Kill A Man (Live @ Woodstock ‘94)
28. House Of Pain - Shamrocks and Shennanigans
29. Cibo Matto - Know Your Chicken
30. Breeders - Cannonball
31. Smashing Pumpkins - Today
32. Butthole Surfers - Pepper
33. Sublime - Doin’ Time
34. Soul Coughing - Super Bon Bon
35. Faith No More - A Small Victory
36. MC 900 Foot Jesus - If I Only Had A Brain
37. Everclear - You Make Me Feel Like A Whore
38. Toadies - Possum Kingdom

http://www.zshare.net/download/18038220d7aeb70d/

I Continue To Shit Upon The Creative Endeavors Of Idealistic Young People

2008-09-20T13:45:00.000-07:00

I've been writing music and zine reviews for Razorcake for over a year now, and the two issues I missed writing for had the best covers (Leatherface and Reigning Sound).

Since I missed last issue, Razorcake 46 has a grip of reviews that I wrote and loaded with not-so-subtle references to soft drug consumption (JK! JK!). And hell, New Model army is pretty awesome too. Check it out here. It's got more flavor than a bucket full of fruit.

Oh, and speaking of the fine folks at the 'cake, see below...

Razorcake Jizzes All Over Gullible 28 (In A Good Way)

2008-09-20T13:32:00.000-07:00

There's a really nice review of Gullible 28 in Razorcake 46. They even compared me to Raymond Carver and Ernest Hemingway (?!).

The catch: I've moved since sending that zine in, so they printed my old address. If you order the zine, and it takes a while, and you stumble across this site, drop me a line. Or email Microcosm and see if they're gonna carry it (after distroing my zines for six or seven years, they rejected this issue, and I'm salty).

Also, since this post is devolving into a litany of links, I thought I'd include this one, because it's bizarre and it kinda ruined my lunch.

I wasn't eating dog's balls.

Oh, and if you want Gullible 28 and you live in the U.S., PayPal $1 to i_will_dare@hotmail.com.

The Hardest I've Laughed In A While

2008-09-03T09:10:00.000-07:00

This link will take you to videos of Norm MacDonald at the Bob Saget celebrity roast. Norm MacDonald is making fun of roasts more than he's making fun of Bob Saget, and he brings on a litany of horrible, corny uncle jokes. Watch and learn.

Let us take a moment to marinate on the brilliance of Norm MacDonald, the man who got kicked off of "SNL" for cussing AND made "Dirty Work."

And if "Dirty Work" isn't enough, rent "Artie Lange's Beer League." It's kinda like a foulmouthed, adult "Bad News Bears." Norm MacDonald's not in it, but it's got similar humor...and Jerry Minor.

Haiku Diary - April 2008

2008-08-25T12:21:00.000-07:00

You did a half-assed job, maaaaan...

Haiku 4/1

Writing Group meeting
hoping for some May flowers
soaked to the damn bone.

Haiku 4/2

Busting ass at work.
I’m going to Florida
gotta get ahead.

Haiku 4/3

Stone cold rejected
by my number one school choice.
Chicago’s looming.

Haiku 4/4

Up super early
walking dead in Florida
shuffling with the greys.

Haiku 4/5

Did some old folks stuff
and saw giraffes and cougars
in a tourist trap.

Haiku 4/6

In St. Augustine
running into an old friend
and getting rained on.

Haiku 4/7

A delayed flight home
sugary margaritas
doing freelance work.

Haiku 4/8

Tired. Recovering.
Gonna have no life this week
thanks to freelance work.

Haiku 4/9

Finally well-rested
annoyed at work, feeling my oats
gets me through the day.

Haiku 4/10

Did no work at work,
then got my tattoo shaded.
Ouch! Delirious.

Haiku 4/11

Went out to Newark
to see Sharon's video.
Ate lots of hot wings.

Haiku 4/12

A fancy party
only guy in a t-shirt
full of Manhattans.

Haiku 4/13

Topped off that freelance
and chilled for the afternoon,
relaxing my mind.

Haiku 4/14

So, uh, did laundry
and ate leftover black beans
then died in my sleep.

Haiku 4/15

Anniversary.
Four years with Sharon so far.
We got a pizza.

Haiku 4/16

Worked on some writing.
Proud of those five syllables
want to use them more.

Haiku 4/17

Beers with an old friend.
Sharon and I stayed up late
finishing "The Wire."

Haiku 4/18

Big margarita
tapping my foot on the train
sugared up my night.

Haiku 4/19

Mashed sweet potatoes
stuffed into whole wheat biscuits
served with some salmon.

Haiku 4/20

Played reggae all day
mediocre Tex-Mex food
grape Dutchmaster wrap.

Haiku 4/21

Dry cleaner is late
pushing onto the subway
meeting is canceled.

Haiku 4/22

Leftover lentils
and up late on a school night,
the week crawling by.

Haiku 4/23

Antsy at my job
leftover lentils again
what the fuck ever.

Haiku 4/24

Chilled hard all night long
fighting off my allergies
full of cheddar sauce.

Haiku 4/25

I hope those cops fry-
getting a way with murder.
Sean Bell RIP.

Haiku 4/26

Astoria train.
Spent more time on the subway
then I did hanging.

Haiku 4/27

Epic housecleaning
then went to my friend Reid's and
biked down to Coney.

Haiku 4/28

Catfish dinner jam.
A full-on nerd convention
talking about books.

Haiku 4/29

This one flew right by
full of writing and cooking
and all the big hits.

Haiku 4/30

Wicked tired, dude.
Started nodding at like ten,
couldn't hardly write.

Haiku Diary - March 2008

2008-08-25T07:52:00.000-07:00

California tumbles into the sea/that'll be the day I go back to Annandale...

Haiku 3/1

Got pilled the fuck up
and stood outside a nightclub
freezing my ass off.

Haiku 3/2

B65 bus.
We could have walked home and back
for all we waited.

Haiku 3/3

Guess what? It's nice out!
Guess what? I'm in an office!
I'm climate controlled!

Haiku 3/4

Psyched out about school
should be hearing back any day
scared I won't get in.

Haiku 3/5

Ran myself ragged
over the last week or so.
Premium good times.

Haiku 3/6

Wrote all day at work.
Hey, what the hell, I got paid
to be creative.

Haiku 3/7

It's Streetmeat Friday!
The hot sauce was no joke, son.
Our meat's the streetest.

Haiku 3/8

Saw an awning fall
when I was high in the rain.
City Island date.

Haiku 3/9

The Red Hook sunset
supermarket parking lot
big thing of T.P.

Haiku 3/10

Skipped a free rock show
to go and do my laundry.
What happened to me?

Haiku 3/11

Don't slack on your mack.
If you're not down with chilling
then we can't hang out.

Haiku 3/12

Cranking out this zine,
watching it come together,
eating chorizo.

Haiku 3/13

Got some freelance work
editing some filth-flarn-filth
with "sex" in the name.

Haiku 3/14

Got into grad school!
One thing - It’s in Chicago.
Tough decisions soon.

Haiku 3/15

Serious dude date
weed, cheeseburgers, daylight beer
the roof, Prospect Park.

Haiku 3/16

Dicked around the house
thinking about Chicago.
it was dreary out.

Haiku 3/17

Anti St. Patrick’s.
Cooked some Korean food and
didn’t touch a drop.

Haiku 3/18

Got a sweet tattoo
of an angler fish from Myles.
Ill shit from the depths.

Haiku 3/19

Went out with work folks
while coming down with a cold
nodding on the train.

Haiku 3/20

Went to a punk show
saw some old friends, drank whiskey
and secondhand smoked.

Haiku 3/21

Fuckin’ Equinox!
Wind just about crashed my bike
damn winter headcold.

Haiku 3/22

Stupid move alert:
Getting drunk at 5pm
to fight a headcold.

Haiku 3/23

A good tax return
biking around bugging out
nervous energy.

Haiku 3/24

Ill Italian meal
and then walked over the bridge.
New "CSI"s on!

Haiku 3/25

I’m the only March
at the office birthday bash.
They all sang to me.

Haiku 3/26

Made lots of copies
just stacking up my zines like
Lil Wayne stacks paper.

Haiku 3/27

Went to a reading
by an old family friend
for his book release.

Haiku 3/28

I left work early
because I lead a wild life
you don’t understand.

Haiku 3/29

I turned 29
had a fish fry at my place
then saw some burlesque.

Haiku 3/30

Post birthday clean-up.
Guess I’ll wipe the collard greens
off the kitchen wall.

Haiku 3/31

Hank Junior was right
about hangovers hurting
more than they used to.

Haiku Diary - February 2008

2008-08-24T12:59:00.000-07:00

Like a velvet glove cast in Bakelite...

Haiku 2/1

Stuck at work 'til 8.
Got tipsy and ordered a
Proclaimers CD.

Haiku 2/2

Caught up on reading
and started a new story.
Hardly put on pants.

Haiku 2/3

Eighth grade me's jealous;
Watching graffiti, skating,
"The Low End Theory."

Haiku 2/4

Walking to the train
full of coffee in flurries
and Mexican jazz.

Haiku 2/5

Full of leftovers
hyped up and manic all day
threatening to rain.

Haiku 2/6

Why are birds singing
with a month of winter left?
It is sixty out...

Haiku 2/7

Went to an art play
and thoroughly enjoyed it,
cos I'm cultural.

Haiku 2/8

Super lazy day
VHS tapes of stand-up
beer on the futon.

Haiku 2/9

Two gin sips away
from starting the dance party.
Three from throwing up.

Haiku 2/10

Oh, consequences.
Machiavellian payback
for Catholic juice.

Haiku 2/11

Fifteen degrees out
and the boiler is broken.
Hard times in NY.

Haiku 2/12

The heat's still broken
at least I can't see my breath
slept in a knit cap.

Haiku 2/13

Slush city nonstop
jacked up on cafe negro
fastest jog ever.

Haiku 2/14

Happy Valentine's!
Cooked like crazy for Sharon
and the heat's back on.

Haiku 2/15

Half day on the job
Chinatown bus to Boston
to walk in the wind.

Haiku 2/16

Walked around all day.
Got drunk with some knucklehead
friends from junior high.

Haiku 2/17

Dreary bus ride home
questionable buffet food
hangover sleep-off.

Haiku 2/18

If the bank is closed
then I shouldn't have to work.
Got Popeye's instead.

Haiku 2/19

It's a full moon out
I can't focus or relax.
Should be out howling.

Haiku 2/20

A lunar eclipse
seen from a windy rooftop
by the rape castle.

Haiku 2/21

Got vegan tapas
and then some beer at an old
Village speakeasy.

Haiku 2/22

Barber school haircuts
dickhead move and penishead hair
what you're paying for.

Haiku 2/23

Got the cabbie lost
with my drunk backseat driving.
My cat scratched my face.

Haiku 2/24

Walked around a lot.
Had drinks with a high school friend.
Tipsy DiGiorno.

Haiku 2/25

Life, laundry, lentils
looped the park, landed some work
lauded for rocking.

Haiku 2/26

Baked some yam biscuits
then went out for a drink.
Starting to like gin.

Haiku 2/27

Bolting for the bus
with a stomach full of food.
Belching Mexican.

Haiku 2/28

Work stacked on my desk
couldn't do street meat Thursday
settled for salad.

Haiku 2/29

Late Friday at work
compensated by drinking
with Neil and Jess.

Haiku Diary - January 2008

2008-08-24T11:21:00.000-07:00

Like a beer in the motherfucking bathtub...

Haiku 1/1/08

Started off proper,
eating good at the potluck
and biking around.

Haiku 1/2

It's windy out. Worrrd.
Work was super-mad wack. Worrrd.
Worked on grad apps. Worrrd.

Haiku 1/3

Got my new glasses
the new prescription is strong
made me off-balance.

Haiku 1/4

Weird dog licks my feet
after eating a dead mouse.
Almitra housesits.

Haiku 1/5

I'll do whatever
Sharon's doing. Except for
like, being a girl.

Haiku 1/6

A healthy balance
of jogging and deep-fried food,
green tea and liquor.

Haiku 1/7

Hail hail laundromat
with your reality shows
Game Boys and fried rice.

Haiku 1/8

Pissed off at my boss
couldn't focus afterwards
ate Korean food.

Haiku 1/9

Grad applications
polishing up my writing
and hoping real hard.

Haiku 1/10

Sat inside writing
until I got cranky and
started deleting.

Haiku 1/11

Think I'm done writing
and not soon enough, my man
driving myself nuts.

Haiku 1/12

I feel like I'm young
and living in the city.
RIP TRAVIS.

Haiku 1/13

Lil' celebration
because I sent off my first
grad application.

Haiku 1/14

Toughest thing ever:
Lifting weights in boxers while
listening to Queen.

Haiku 1/15

Bed at 9:30.
What am I? Geriatric?
Dreamed about coffee.

Haiku 1/16

The heat is broken.
Rum and spaghetti warm me
five blankets in bed.

Haiku 1/17

Life's a lot better
when you're at work for less than
half your waking hours.

Haiku 1/18

Stuck at work again
open bar compensation
makes no sense at all.

Haiku 1/19

Spent four whole hours
writing about how much I
love the Wu-Tang Clan.

Haiku 1/20

Feels like winter out
went to see Kareem and Myles
ate a meatball sub.

Haiku 1/21

Did more grad school stuff.
Prob'ly won't get in at all.
Waste a few haikus.

Haiku 1/22

Writer's group meeting!
Glad to be at it again.
Ideas already.

Haiku 1/23

Stayed home cooking up
tilapia tacos and
QT with Sharon.

Haiku 1/24

Work release party
questionable buffet food
deflicted tuna.

Haiku 1/25

There were a lot of
serial killer looking dudes
at the metal show.

Haiku 1/26

Cigarette party.
Our parents will never know
just what we're up to.

Haiku 1/27

Two longboard missions
plus a walk to the movies.
Still felt chill all day.

Haiku 1/28

Nine hours at work.
Caught attitude for leaving.
Come on grad school. Please?

Haiku 1/29

Extra hungry and
I don't know why. King fishwich,
donuts, potatoes.

Haiku 1/30

So much I can say.
Describe a scene, make jokes, or
knock out opponents.

2007 Haiku Diary

2008-08-21T22:22:00.000-07:00

You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll hurl...

Haiku 1/1

Woke up to dim sum.
Sleepy day, a sleepy day.
My friend Lew's in town.

Haiku 1/2

Hung with an old friend.
He doesn't like Less Than Jake
like back in high school.

Haiku 1/3

Finished some reading
went to Veggie Castle with some friends
then I did laundry.

Haiku 1/4

So hungry all day.
Full of cheap beer and new tats,
alone on the bridge,

Haiku 1/5

Got a second flat
on my way to the air pump
to fix my first flat.

Haiku 1/6

Cold lampin' all day.
Three meals of Mexican food
watching "Serpico."

Haiku 1/7

Got drunk closing up.
Biked home in the pouring rain.
Boy did I get wet!

Haiku 1/8

Job hunting morning,
then slacking all afternoon -
dude time with Joey.

Haiku 1/9

Food's always better
when it's stuffed into more food
and topped with some cheese.

Haiku 1/10

Dumb job interview.
I've been down on shit lately.
Need better focus.

Haiku 1/11

Shards of broken glass
in a gob of mayonnaise
wiping off my hand.

Haiku 1/12

Bean pies in Bed-Stuy
job leads and that collie weed
gray skies for these guys.

Haiku 1/13

Afternoon inside
listening to some records
before Manhattan.

Haiku 1/14

Shoot me in the face!
I had quite the hangover
and I worked 'til four.

Haiku 1/15

Martin wanted peace,
so I won't whoop my neighbor
for their loud music.

Haiku 1/16

Got an interview
for the perfect freelance gig.
Well, come on, cosmos!

Haiku 1/17

Sugar mouth all day
from fake-puking condensed milk
for a photo shoot.

Haiku 1/18

Giving up seitan.
A fun-crusher four-flusher
will do that to ya.

Haiku 1/19

It's flat tire Friday!
Everything's tiring me out,
nothing's going on.

Haiku 1/20

Fighting off a cold,
so I worked on some writing,
hearing the wind blow.

Haiku 1/21

It sure is winter.
I've been waiting to say that
for a good long while.

Haiku 1/22

Last night's burrito,
bacon egg and cheese, tuna,
broccoli fried rice.

Haiku 1/23

Pretty easy day
and a sorta restless night,
up and down the stairs.

Haiku 1/24

Utility days
are when you spend all your time
taking care of bull.

Haiku 1/25

Now it's pretty cold
and I made the same dinner
as the night before.

Haiku 1/26

Byers came to town
on the coldest New York day
since '03 or so.

Haiku 1/27

Went running with Jeff
and then walked around all day.
My feet hurt like hell.

Haiku 1/28

Fuck it whatever
Jesus Christ and motherfuck
Goddamn it to hell.

Haiku 1/29

Got some Razorcakes
with an article I wrote.
I'll send one to Mom!

Haiku 1/30

All week leads up to
tomorrow's job interview.
Can't think beyond it.

Haiku 1/31

Had an interview
for a job I'd really like,
and not just for rent.

Haiku 2/1

Been a bit depressed,
acting unmotivated,
not sure what to do.

Haiku 2/2

Went to a wine bar,
felt out of my element,
then quit complaining.

Haiku 2/3

Jonathan Richman
What an excellent showman
By all means, see him

Haiku 2/4

Barfing through my nose
old enough to know better
kinda embarrassed.

Haiku 2/5

Didn't get the job
that I'd been stressing about.
Whatever. Their loss.

Haiku 2/6

Fighting off a cold
in the February cold
while job leads turn cold.

Haiku 2/7

The fucking heat broke
Had dinner guests on the way
I made a huge meal.

Haiku 2/8

Walked around a bunch,
and had my first physical
in about four years.

Haiku 2/9

Jogging in the wind
losing feeling in my nose
wearing four layers.

Haiku 2/10

Neil and Jess are here!
We can walk around and eat
both at the same time.

Haiku 2/11

Chicken and waffles.
I wanna base my life on
chicken and waffles.

Haiku 2/12

Hung with a toddler.
"CSI: Miami’s on.
What's my life come to?

Haiku 2/13

Think I've got pinkeye.
Staring at some proofreading;
man, this temp job blows!

Haiku 2/14

Ophthalmologist
Trudging, dilated pupils
New York ice and snow.

Haiku 2/15

Worked for an hour,
took my first piss test ever.
Futility strikes!

Haiku 2/16

It was a T day!
Temping, Twin Peaks, Third Ave. Traipse
and Tofu Tacos.

Haiku 2/17

A fucking slushfest.
We're overrun with gray slop
and homemade pizza.

Haiku 2/18

Bartended real late,
dreading temping tomorrow,
but loving pancakes.

Haiku 2/19

Super tired day.
Running on three hours sleep,
oatmeal and bagels.

Haiku 2/20

Chillin' with a book,
getting paid to sit and read,
slackest temp gig yet.

Haiku 2/21

Made a rad chow mein
and didn't do that much else.
I guess that's OK.

Haiku 2/22

Been on a Kinks kick,
reminded of boomboxing
my porch in high school.

Haiku 2/23

Ten-hour workday,
ton of bagels and pizza,
saw The Lemonheads.

Haiku 2/24

Saw the "Reno" flick
with a crew of ten people,
laughing like crazy.

Haiku 2/25

Drank too much coffee,
a great winter antidote,
for cabin fever.

Haiku 2/26

Thought I'd get more done,
but just ate lots of chicken
and rode the subway.

Haiku 2/27

Kinda jumpy day.
Standing instead of sitting.
Is sugar to blame?

Haiku 2/28

Caitlin's moving van
had a dead battery and
wouldn't start back up.

Haiku 3/1

Getting out of bed,
spending the whole day waiting
to go back to bed

Haiku 3/2

This job recruiter
swears more than Richard Pryor
and works for Avon.

Haiku 3/3

Hard rockin' all day!
Band practice, guitar alone,
then a hardcore show.

Haiku 3/4

Ate tons of tofu.
Sharon's video art show
while I bartended.

Haiku 3/5

Hardly left the house,
did some cooking and cleaning,
went through my old clothes.

Haiku 3/6

Worked on some writing.
Actually kinda bored
Went out for Tex-Mex.

Haiku 3/7

Had an interview
and a double cheeseburger
to balance it out.

Haiku 3/8

Sell-out job proof test
taken on a desk marked with
graffiti ideals.

Haiku 3/9

Friday night at the
"Birthplace of Rollerdisco."
Poured one for Biggie.

Haiku 3/10

I saw a cyclist
run a light and hurt someone.
Good day until then.

Haiku 3/11

An excellent day.
Skateboard mission in the park
and breakfast nachos.

Haiku 3/12

Slept away the day,
hardly left the fucking house,
feel like a damn blob.

Haiku 3/13

Petite mal seizure
Six-hour hospital wait
Should've just stayed home.

Haiku 3/14

Slept 'til 4pm,
wondering what's up with me,
calling the doctor.

Haiku 3/15

Sleep schedule's still fucked.
Fancy benefit dinner
for my sister's job.

Haiku 3/16

DJ Wintry Mix
was up in the cut, so I
stayed at home, dancing.

Haiku 3/17

Errands in the slush
just like islands in the stream.
Did some Irish stuff.

Haiku 3/18

Slushtown, U.S.A.
Having some coffee and eggs,
and getting fresh air.

Haiku 3/19

Just ice cold lampin'.
Wonderin' what's happenin'.
Killin' time and feelin' fine.

Haiku 3/20

Bike ride to Harlem,
windy all the way uptown.
Soul food steamer tray.

Haiku 3/21

The first day of spring,
my first day at a new job.
Such fresh beginnings!

Haiku 3/22

Train to Bensonhurst
for a cancelled appointment.
Fuck Dr. Rocco!

Haiku 3/23

All day proofreading
copy about foundation,
lip gloss, eyeliner.

Haiku 3/24

Made seven pizzas
all day for my birthday jam.
Fed them to my friends.

Haiku 3/25

Did that crappy thing
where I woke up hungover
at dawn, by mistake.

Haiku 3/26

Lots of new music!
Took a walk to sort it out.
Headphones, Union Square.

Haiku 3/27

It's spring's first warm day
In and out of the house, just
sweating out Thai food.

Haiku 3/28

It's Epilepsy
if you have multiple seizures
that are unexplained.

Haiku 3/29

I'm twenty-eight now,
filling myself with fried fish,
starting a new job.

Haiku 3/30

Didn't do fuck all
but spend some tax return cash
and make mushroom soup.

Haiku 3/31

Sharon's outta town.
Total bro-fest at the crib,
just me and the cat.

Haiku 4/1

Life story tellers
had a boring convention
while I bartended.

Haiku 4/2

Atlanta zing wings
three week old baby nephew
delirious tired.

Haiku 4/3

We can blame hot wings
for what happened this morning
on the thundermug.

Haiku 4/4

Ate some barbecue,
hung with the little nephew,
lousy plane ride home.

Haiku 4/5

Back at New York speed,
blowing through the city and
landing freelance jobs.

Haiku 4/6

Two job interviews,
a little babysitting.
Tired out by night.

Haiku 4/7

Running around town
like I don't even live here,
acting cultural.

Haiku 4/8

Watched couples make out
while I stood behind the bar
counting down last call.

Haiku 4/9

Not quite rested up,
sitting nodding at my desk.
A cat in the sun.

Haiku 4/10

Went to two doctors
who were both running behind
so it was no prob.

Haiku 4/11

Dicking 'round online,
a slow day at the office.
American dream?

Haiku 4/12

Spring rain, just like douche
flushed the city through the day,
causing discomfort.

Haiku 4/13

Anniversary!
We've been together three years!
Don't get sick of me!

Haiku 4/14

Always stay up late
when you plan on resting up.
Theremin party.

Haiku 4/15

Bus ride in the rain.
Blues - Can you make the train talk?
Hey secondhand smoke.

Haiku 4/16

A discography
of my high school hardcore band
is now in the works.

Haiku 4/17

Got super tired,
got drunk for a second wind,
couldn't trick myself.

Haiku 4/18

Bus back to New York.
Nothing profound crossed my mind.
Had fun in Richmond.

Haiku 4/19

Cheeseburger party
at Joey's spot in Bed-Stuy.
Grease your blues away.

Haiku 4/20

Tired and grouchy.
Is it allergy season?
Am I getting sick?

Haiku 4/21

Aimless wandering
through the nicest day so far
wearing my tea shades.

Haiku 4/22

Catching up on sleep
from this week-long tear I had.
Enjoying freedom.

Haiku 4/23

Spent the day outside.
Start a new job tomorrow,
desking all summer.

Haiku 4/24

First day on the job
was busy in a good way.
Think I can handle.

Haiku 4/25

One job in the day,
another job in the night.
Ninety-nine cent Coors.

Haiku 4/26

Twelve hour work day.
Won't have time to spend the cash
that is coming in.

Haiku 4/27

Ate lots of tacos
because life is hardly life
without some tacos.

Haiku 4/28

Spent all day outside
except when I was sleeping
or watching "Twin Peaks."

Haiku 4/29

Where else but Target
can I find shower curtains?
Thanks monoculture.

Haiku 4/30

Have to act busy
even with no work to do.
Beware. Manager.

Haiku 5/1

Packed myself three meals.
Fueling my all-day work-day
with those Tupperwares.

Haiku 5/2

Quit my dumb ol' band
We were stagnant for too long
Hope they aren't too pissed.

Haiku 5/3

Just got two paychecks.
Reminded why I do these
twelve-hour work days.

Haiku 5/4

Art show at a church.
Thought I was open-minded-
Jesus is creepy.

Haiku 5/5

Ted Leo brings it!
Bartender fucked up my tab,
so I got some shots.

Haiku 5/6

Had a shitty brunch
then some delicious pizza
to balance it out.

Haiku 5/7

All loved Jonny Z.
Now we'll keep on loving him
while we miss him, too.

Haiku 5/8

Everyone knew him
and if they didn't like him,
they loved him instead.

Haiku 5/9

Funeral plans came.
Being sad is exhausting.
Couldn't get to sleep.

Haiku 5/10

Missed the barbecue
but there was beer left over
at my evening job.

Haiku 5/11

Tired and stressed out.
Went to a reggae concert,
and laid my blues down.

Haiku 5/12

It's good to see you,
but wish I didn't have to.
Funeral in town.

Haiku 5/13

Crossing Virginia.
Parents' houses, health food stores
and funeral homes.

Haiku 5/14

Jonny's funeral.
Take-out Mexican, drive home.
Jonny's funeral.

Haiku 5/15

In the New York swing.
Having some crunch time this week
going out of town.

Haiku 5/16

A slow day at work,
and packing in the evening.
Puerto Rico bound.

Haiku 5/17

Nap all afternoon
drink some Puerto Rican coffee
try to sleep that night.

Haiku 5/18

Walk through Old San Juan
and try not to imagine
pirates being there.

Haiku 5/19

I don't know why but
"Parents Just Don't Understand"
is stuck in my head.

Haiku 5/20

Read "Dune" on the beach
only wearing sunglasses.
Ate lots of hot wings.

Haiku 5/21

Vieques ferry
scratching at all my sunburn
watching the seagulls.

Haiku 5/22

Airport clusterfuck
and crazy San Juan traffic
made it hard to leave.

Haiku 5/23

I went back to work,
cooked some ravioli soup
and went out skating.

Haiku 5/24

Drunk across the street
locked out of his place, shouting
into his buzzer.

Haiku 5/25

A friend from Richmond
bartends at a whiskey bar.
That shit got ugly.

Haiku 5/26

Hit up Brighton Beach
water was so cold it hurt
bike on the subway.

Haiku 5/27

Cleaned my apartment
for the entire afternoon,
then watched three "Twin Peaks."

Haiku 5/28

Marinating food,
a rooftop and a backyard.
It's all for soldiers!

Haiku 5/29

So hooked on "Twin Peaks."
I stayed up late watching it.
Gonna be tired.

Haiku 5/30

The zombie movie
made me scared to ride my bike
through the park at night.

Haiku 5/31

Work's by the subway.
I don't breathe Manhattan air
on many workdays.

Haiku 6/1

Finally hot out.
Read The Onion site at work,
then ate lots of rice.

Haiku 6/2

Super duper hot
and my parents were up here.
Mom made ill brownies.

Haiku 6/3

Bottled my homebrew,
ate lots of cheap Chinese food,
listened to records.

Haiku 6/4

Got zines in the mail,
ate leftover Chinese food,
did some damn laundry.

Haiku 6/5

So-so day at work,
tired for no good reason.
Went for a bike ride.

Haiku 6/6

Another bad sleep.
Zoned out all day on the job
then got cheezeburgerz.

Haiku 6/7

The "Twin Peaks" pilot.
Can someone lend it to me?
I have to see it.

Haiku 6/8

Flew to Chicago,
then drove down to Milwaukee.
Neil's getting married!

Haiku 6/9

Brewery wedding.
Congratulations Neil and Jess-
You're married, I'm drunk.

Haiku 6/10

Booze taste in my mouth,
Hollandaise sauce on my eggs,
plane back to New York.

Haiku 6/11

Five of the last ten
weekends were spent out of town.
What a crazy spring.

Haiku 6/12

The cats woke me up
so I was groggy all day,
cursing them felines.

Haiku 6/13

Work flew right on by,
the train home came right away,
I cooked paella.

Haiku 6/14

Scared my homebrew's flat.
Went to Prospect Park and saw
The Neville Brothers.

Haiku 6/15

Rode my bike around.
All is cool when you're going
to a Blowfly show.

Haiku 6/16

Central thunderstorm
at the Television show,
margarita full.

Haiku 6/17

Rock rock Rockaway
that's where I spent my whole day.
So lean back, lean back.

Haiku 6/18

Made a vegan meal
ate it with my vegan friends
went to vegan sleep.

Haiku 6/19

Worn out and tired,
on autopilot all day
while work was stressful.

Haiku 6/20

Went home after work,
had some Terrytime and
an ice cream soda.

Haiku 6/21

Sharon's video
got projected at a bar.
Lots of people came.

Haiku 6/22

Kinda hungover
headachy all day at work.
My friend Mike's in town.

Haiku 6/23

Crappy and sleepy.
It's Mike and Ryan's birthdays,
and I cooked alllll day.

Haiku 6/24

Pizza for breakfast,
biking home and then jogging.
Bro triathlon.

Haiku 6/25

Work as usual,
ate leftovers, did laundry.
Pretty boring day.

Haiku 6/26

Middle of the road
Italian ristorante,
I'm dusting the crops.

Haiku 6/27

Running in the park
felt like I was swimming laps.
Thanks, humidity.

Haiku 6/28

Humid city swims
boozehound's howl, barflies buzzing
food delivers late.

Haiku 6/29

I can't win at work.
Stay ahead and I miss stuff,
thorough and I'm late.

Haiku 6/30

Make crockpot chili
ate lots of crockpot chili.
Leftover chili.

Haiku 7/1

A skateboard mission
all the way across Bed-Stuy.
"Son! Do a ollie!"

Haiku 7/2

Hiding in the tub.
Hissing at me, on the john.
I’m the catsitter.

Haiku 7/3

Got an eye exam.
The proofreader needs glasses!
The writer can't read!

Haiku 7/4

Meat cooked with fire.
Happy Birthday U.S.A.
We're still evolving.

Haiku 7/5

Oh Lord, what's that smell?
Left some weed in my wallet
from last night's get-down.

Haiku 7/6

Rockaway house show.
Lost in Queens for two hours
seeing LL's hood.

Haiku 7/7

Steve Ritt was in town.
See hippies, New York's not bad.
Just go to the park!

Haiku 7/8

Ninety-plus degrees
spent the day at Brighton Beach
didn't do much else.

Haiku 7/9

Slow at work today.
Didn't slack constructively.
Answered some emails.

Haiku 7/10

The humidity
on the streets is swimmable,
the sky is orange.

Haiku 7/11

It's performance art
if you pour stuff on your head
and I hate the crowd.

Haiku 7/12

Helped move a futon
right after I went running.
Got it all sweaty.

Haiku 7/13

Drove down to Philly
after work, eating cheese fries,
saw Jorge and Janelle.

Haiku 7/14

Hit the Jersey Shore,
saw Richmond friends in Philly
and stayed up too late.

Haiku 7/15

Philadelphia,
the city where it's still cool
to be a wigga.

Haiku 7/16

Walked the bridge with Jeff
then ate a fly curry that
made me forget work.

Haiku 7/17

Got a summer cold
sneezed away the sunny day
and coughed 'til nighttime.

Haiku 7/18

Stayed home sick from work,
but Sharon got a new job!
Hooray for Sharon!

Haiku 7/19

Annoying work day,
stuffed my damn face at Zaytoon's,
humid-ass bike ride.

Haiku 7/20

Worked for ten hours!
But then saw Odetta play.
She made it better.

Haiku 7/21

Two birthday parties
biking around like a fool
sunburning my face.

Haiku 7/22

Hit Fire Island.
Now my face is on fire...
...FROM A BAD SUNBURN!

Haiku 7/23

Ravioli soup
pissing rain through the morning
cleaning the backroom.

Haiku 7/24

Went to visit the
kids I used to babysit.
Stressed for no reason.

Haiku 7/25

Doctor's appointment,
'cos I'm changing health insurance.
Some saw comedy.

Haiku 7/26

Asshole mechanics
kept me up half of last night
with paint fumes and noise.

Haiku 7/27

Heading for Richmond
reading that Harry Potter
flying friendly skies.

Haiku 7/28

Jonny Z tattoo.
He's been gone for near three months,
it's there forever.

Haiku 7/29

The flight home's cancelled.
It's pissing rain, I'm sweaty.
Looks like I'm stuck here.

Haiku 7/30

Up at 4 a.m.
Flight to N.Y., train to work.
Super long commute.

Haiku 7/31

Sleepy at my desk.
Went and did laundry later.
Are you bored also?

Haiku 8/1

Sat up late reading
and casting Chinese food spells.
Harry Potter rules!

Haiku 8/2

Last day on the job
Sharon cut her leg open
cleaning out her desk.

Haiku 8/3

Stayed in after work.
Sharon made dinner and I
wrote a short story.

Haiku 8/4

Hot as balls out there!
Everyone stopped making sense
by 9:30 or so.

Haiku 8/5

Opened my third eye.
Summer of Love exhibit
then Simpsons movie.

Haiku 8/6

Stuck at work 'til 7
Did a whole bunch of cooking
Worked on a story

Haiku 8/7

A punk rock sauna
A house show in hot weather
Airborne, topless drunks

Haiku 8/8

The train tracks flooded
hottest day of the summer
walked to Manhattan.

Haiku 8/9

Whole lot of nothing.
Burrito acid reflux.
Pack for New England.

Haiku 8/10

Grilled frozen pizza,
mussels, lobster, fish, salad,
corn on the cob.

Haiku 8/11

Drunk friends from grade school
motorboat to a sandbar
meteor shower.

Haiku 8/12

Looking at the bay.
I'll be at my desk at work
in twenty hours?!

Haiku 8/13

Ate lots of cupcakes
Chilled at home for the evening,
drawing a comic.

Haiku 8/14

No revelations..
Just some reading and cooking.
Amy stayed with us.

Haiku 8/15

My sister's birthday!
Drank some Guinness, gave her a
Simpsons DVD.

Haiku 8/16

Saxophone douchebag
practices upstairs at night.
Dolphy? Try DON'Tphy!

Haiku 8/17

Drunk right after work.
Got stuffed on Mexican food.
Slowed up the whole night.

Haiku 8/18

Reached a fitness goal;
looping the park twice, jogging.
Took phatty bonghits.

Haiku 8/19

Overcast beach trip
Rain on the bus ride back home.
Slow going Sunday.

Haiku 8/20

Awesome or boring:
Going to bed all early,
staying in weeknights.

Haiku 8/21

Work was slow again,
plus, another day of rain.
Drank beer with Kareem.

Haiku 8/22

Art film opening.
Ocean of skinny, stubbly
tall guys in blazers.

Haiku 8/23

Laundry after work,
baked potatoes for dinner.
Whooptie fucking do.

Haiku 8/24

Running after work
then biking off to a bar.
Dense humidity.

Haiku 8/25

Mosquito bite path
gold sun passing overhead
sandy shoe dune walk

Haiku 8/26

Biked to Brighton Beach.
Wet ass on a bike seat chafes
while I ride back home.

Haiku 8/27

Worked on some drawing
to add some worth to my day;
balance out Target.

Haiku 8/28

Went to the movies
and the movie was sold out
so we had some drinks.

Haiku 8/29

Drew a few pictures
and then fell the hell asleep,
having scary dreams.

Haiku 8/30

It's Joey's birthday!
Variety of liquors
sloshing in my gut.

Haiku 8/31

No complaints today,
but nothing awesome either.
So it goes, sometimes.

Haiku 9/1

September beach trip.
Going as much as I can
before it's too cold.

Haiku 9/2

Cut off all my hair.
No more getting dapped up by
Rastas on the bus.

Haiku 9/3

Went to the parade,
stuffed my face with jerk chicken
and smoked too much pot.

Haiku 9/4

Hit Junior's for an
orange freeze ice cream soda.
Goodnight, sugar high.

Haiku 9/5

I cleaned the kitchen!
'twas poetry in motion!
Mop pentameter!

Haiku 9/6

Worked on a new song.
Rode my bike to Williamsburg
and hung out up there.

Haiku 9/7

Drove down to D.C.
Got to Tom and Hope's real late.
Work was weak, also.

Haiku 9/8

Drunk uncle get-down
at Sharon's cousin's wedding.
Hey, Macarena!

Haiku 9/9

Bank info stolen.
Rear-ended leaving D.C.
Skipped lunch, got nauseous.

Haiku 9/10

Went to a punk show.
Faces across a dark room;
old friends, older friends.

Haiku 9/11

Cooked a ton of soup
and took it easy at home,
working on a zine.

Haiku 9/12

Faux hawk: New mullet?
We'll crack jokes and bag on them
in just a few years.

Haiku 9/13

Hasids call my bluff
and run with me in the park
blowing horns, blessing.

Haiku 9/14

Carne asada
99 bottles of beer
4 a.m. bathroom.

Haiku 9/15

Cab horn woke me up
clear skies at Coney Island
out of it all day.

Haiku 9/16

Hung with my parents
walking around Manhattan
at tourist cruise speed.

Haiku 9/17

Mom made us a quilt
crazy Day of the Dead art
and pillows to match.

Haiku 9/18

Went for a fast jog.
Balanced the exercise with
a badass burger.

Haiku 9/19

Early work meeting
mosquitoes all through the night
free beer opening.

Haiku 9/20

6 a.m. jogging.
Napping under my desk by
about 3 p.m.

Haiku 9/21

Left from work early
drank too much cheap liquor at
a comedy show.

Haiku 9/22

Yes! Sinus problems!
Too rainy for the beach! Rad!
Stayed up late! Awesome!

Haiku 9/23

Guy at the drugstore
is shouting about how he
needs Valtrex, TONIGHT!

Haiku 9/24

My meds aren't covered
by my new insurance. Had
another seizure.

Haiku 9/25

Saw some comedy
after my new writing class.
It's Sharon's birthday!

Haiku 9/26

Insurance problems
catch 22's, debacles.
Move to Canada.

Haiku 9/27

Work's been pretty sweet
'cos the boss is out of town.
The stress level drops!

Haiku 9/28

Work was slack again.
Didn't do jack shit after.
Still beat from Monday.

Haiku 9/29

Sharon's birthday jam!
Air hockey, ping-pong and pool.
Liquor, beer and weed.

Haiku 9/30

Super fun houseguests
walking off the hangover
drinking papaya.

Haiku 10/1

I baked some cookies
and then I ate the cookies.
I'm full of cookies.

Haiku 10/2

Mind-mushingly slow
all of Wikipedia
desk, apathy, fucked.

Haiku 10/3

Working on writing
when I should be proofreading.
American dream!

Haiku 10/4

Worked on more writing.
It made my brain move too fast
and I couldn't sleep.

Haiku 10/5

Went to see The Blow.
She owned it alone on stage
under purple lights.

Haiku 10/6

Soul food feast, buddy.
Adam from Boston's in town,
watching "Mr. Show."

Haiku 10/7

Cop on a Segue,
my MP3 player broke...
...but the Red Sox won!

Haiku 10/8

Stupid lunch meeting.
Give me some benefits if
the corp's doing well.

Haiku 10/9

Twenty degree drop
became fall during the day
manic temperature.

Haiku 10/10

Jiggity jogging
almost barfed in my damn mouth
it's wicked humid.

Haiku 10/11

For the last two weeks,
quiet before the torrent.
Makeup catalogs.

Haiku 10/12

GRE study.
My memory failed me, I'm
even worse at math.

Haiku 10/13

Took the GRE.
Went to a sweaters-only
backyard barbecue.

Haiku 10/14

Went to Queens. Got lost.
That seems to happen every time.
Rad Chinese food, though.

Haiku 10/15

Stayed in, just writing.
The Shaolin and the Wu-Tang
could be dangerous.

Haiku 10/16

Feeling better now.
Making up for lost sleeping
bit by mosquitoes.

Haiku 10/17

Cuban food for lunch,
Mexican food for dinner.
Lots of pork. Sorry.

Haiku 10/18

Shitfoot incident.
Kicked out of the litter box.
Guess who stepped in it?

Haiku 10/19

Frustration, whiskey,
dry burger with wet weather,
secondhand trifling.

Haiku 10/20

Went to Hoboken.
It was more like "Broboken,"
but, hey, something new...

Haiku 10/21

Goddamn teenagers
on the stoop across the street
kept me up 'til 4.

Haiku 10/22

Life is best with a
big-ass map of Africa
in the living room.

Haiku 10/23

After work had a
patty melt but no gator belt
before writing class.

Haiku 10/24

Cooked up Hoppin' John.
It had rained all day and it
wasn't eighty out.

Haiku 10/25

Leftovers, gnomesane?
F.I.T.A. busy day,
with full moon fever.

Haiku 10/26

Drove to the Catskills,
dark road in the pissing rain.
Can't see the mountains.

Haiku 10/27

Grown up hippie town
still raining, kinda dreaming
real ghosts in my sleep.

Haiku 10/28

Red Sox sweep World Series.
Not so mad at Bill Buckner
after all of this.

Haiku 10/29

Show at a canal
watching it from a drawbridge
old friends across water.

Haiku 10/30

Workshopped my writing
and got a bunch of ideas
to edit that shit.

Haiku 10/31

Running before dark
to avoid getting egged by
some DAMN TEENAGERS.

Haiku 11/1

These DAMN TEENAGERS
tried to jump Sharon and I
but we scared them off!

Haiku 11/2

Day of the Dead, the
night ended at a gay bar
right near the projects.

Haiku 11/3

Sharon's parents came.
Ate tostadas, fish and chips,
and of course, pizza.

Haiku 11/4

Dying to go to
Brooklyn College for grad school.
But will they take me?

Haiku 11/5

The cat doesn't know
that it's daylight savings time
so he wakes us up.

Haiku 11/6

Got all sugared up
at a grad school open house.
Somehow lost my voice.

Haiku 11/7

Drawing at my desk.
Not letting my mind stagnate
while it's slow at work.

Haiku 11/8

Average good day:
Mexican food for dinner
and slow on the job.

Haiku 11/9

Sharon bought me gifts
which I had to carry home.
Jesus did that too.

Haiku 11/10

Lazy Saturday
never exerted my mind
went to bed early.

Haiku 11/11

Homemade granola
powered me over the bridge
on a skateboard jam.

Haiku 11/12

Totally over
this dark-before-I-leave-work
newfangled bullshit.

Haiku 11/13

Busy day at work,
Korean food, writing class.
The day flew right by.

Haiku 11/14

Raw food for dinner.
At an art show watching the
douchebag last supper.

Haiku 11/15

Back to some writing
trying to edit old stuff
totally confused.

Haiku 11/16

In my head all day
singing falsetto at work.
Justin Timberlake.

Haiku 11/17

Cooked so much soul food.
Drank energy drinks for a
dance party 'til 3.

Haiku 11/18

Pancake celebrate!
Woke up with no hangover;
magic is at work.

Haiku 11/19

The park is empty
if you run after work now,
more space than New York.

Haiku 11/20

Blew out the afro,
looking like Art Garfunkel
mixed with The RZA.

Haiku 11/21

Worked on a comic
then got some story ideas
and made pumpkin soup.

Haiku 11/22

A vegan potluck
and then a Philipino
pig roast in Bed-Stuy.

Haiku 11/23

Wrote through the day then
saw Crispin Glover's slide show
and his new movie.

Haiku 11/24

Ate too much pizza
went to a Brooklyn beard bar
ran into China.

Haiku 11/25

Edited stories
all day with an afro pick
crockpot blackeye peas.

Haiku 11/26

Ate a lot of beans
finished reading "Wind Up Bird"
and watched "CSI."

Haiku 11/27

Dude with warm-up pants,
girl says she lies about age.
Watching their blind date.

Haiku 11/28

Basic grown man stuff
Shit like jogging and laundry
took up my whole night.

Haiku 11/29

Hot sauce in my beer
and tilapia tacos
burning through the night.

Haiku 11/30

Joked around at work.
Kinda weird to admit it,
but I like my job.

Haiku 12/1

Yuletide jammings with
egg nog like marshmallow fluff
and a one-hitter.

Haiku 12/2

Worked on some drawing.
If you're not down with chilling
then we can't hang out.

Haiku 12/3

Could hardly get up.
Just dead on my feet all day
dead in my brain, too.

Haiku 12/4

My last writing class.
They all liked my new story,
then we went for drinks.

Haiku 12/5

Pissed and understaffed
doing yoga on the phone
baking potatoes.

Haiku 12/6

Running on black ice
and crunching through snowy grass
just in a hoodie.

Haiku 12/7

Tired as fuck, yo.
Cooked up some fish, stayed in
watching "Boogie Nights."

Haiku 12/8

Handled some B.I.
like the barber shop and a
whole lot of nothing.

Haiku 12/9

Neighborhood walking,
not sure if I "get" Daft Punk.
Fish fry with soul sides.

Haiku 12/10

Crowded A.M. train
back to back, an old lady
farted on my leg.

Haiku 12/11

Three hour meeting!
Sitting for longer than a
"Lord of the Rings" flick!

Haiku 12/12

Restless at my desk
full of holiday cookies.
Nothing exciting.

Haiku 12/13

The snow didn't stick
neither did the hale or rain.
Dark in the morning.

Haiku 12/14

The party got hype
when I spilled guacamole
on my Adidas.

Haiku 12/15

All day on my feet
walking across the canal
sleeting heading home.

Haiku 12/16

Oh noes! Sharon's sick!
Did some crap around the house
had pizza for lunch.

Haiku 12/17

Tofu, broccoli
the laundromat, the baby
the mama, the cell...

Haiku 12/18

Free rum and hot wings
at this holiday party
where Sharon teaches.

Haiku 12/19

Work Christmas party.
Corona in the daytime,
catching a headcold.

Haiku 12/20

Made homemade pizza
for Christmas dinner and then
we exchanged presents.

Haiku 12/21

Tired and sneezing
stuck at work later than planned
packing for VA.

Haiku 12/22

AmTrak with a cold
Penn Station wait - train delay
my sister's engaged.

Haiku 12/23

Burt Reynolds nightmare
woke me up at 6 a.m.
Shut the fuck up, Mom.

Haiku 12/24

Recorded three songs
with my old friend Jonathan
and ate eighteen wings.

Haiku 12/25

Jesus enchiladas
birthday bourbon and Bud Lite
HOLY HANGOVER.

Haiku 12/26

Got back on the train
cooked a healthy meal for once
went to bed early.

Haiku 12/27

First day back at work.
The good times were a-rollin'!
It's a wild ride, y'all.

Haiku 12/28

Ever notice how
the people with the least soul
wear Triple Five Soul?

Haiku 12/29

IMax planet crash
scaring a nearby toddler.
"Cosmic Collisions."

Haiku 12/30

Breakfast nachos, dude.
Vegetarian toppings
burping that garlic.

Haiku 12/31

The year ended well
with ping-pong, tacos and some
scotch that smelled like fire.

Temp Job

2008-08-13T10:07:00.000-07:00

I had a temp job doing filing work at a medical office. All I had to do was take armloads of files off of a shelf, put them onto a cart, push the cart across the office, then put the files onto a new shelf. It was precisely as exciting as it sounds. I did the whole thing with my headphones on, Otto-from-"The Simpsons"-style.

On the second day, I was faced with a dilemma; I could keep busting ass, and get out of there as soon as possible, or I could slow my pace, put in more hours and get paid more. I thought it over. They had me moving files into an isolated room, so I blocked the view from the door with my cart, then sat behind the cart, listening to comedy albums on my iPod. Potential employers will please note that I was clocked out while doing this.

Everything went bananas on the third and last day. Mere minutes into my shift, I got a papercut on the joint of my right thumb, and proceeded to bleed all over one of the
files I was moving. I hid the file on the shelf, cleaned up my hand, then went to the office kitchen to heat up my breakfast. The microwave made my oatmeal explode, and I had had to spend a few minutes cleaning molten hot oatmeal off of the microwave carousel while this other guy waited to heat his food. Embarrassing!

Back at my cart, my phone rang. It was the place where I'm trying to get a regular job, that pays literally 2.5 times as much as the filing gig, and doesn't hurt my knees. They wanted me to come fill in, but I had to say no, out of some twisted sense of obligation to the filing job. Furious, I put a mystery novel into an interoffice envelope and snuck it into the bathroom, where I read for twenty minutes. Potential employers will please note that I was clocked out while doing this.

Hey East Coasters, get this - The clock is set an hour back, here in the Midwest, but people counter that by doing everything an hour earlier. Folks eat lunch right at noon, "CSI" comes on at 9, and 10 is a more common bedtime than 11. Why bother with changing the clock?

I took lunch at one o'clock so that I could avoid having to share a lunch table with the same crowd of friendly people that I'd eaten with the last two days. Things had gone sour with that group when I realized that the women I had thought were at least my age were actually 5+ years younger, making the fatherly men who flirted with them and tried to work their golf scores into the conversation all the creepier. Their big joke about me was that I was running from the government, because I had lived in so many different cities (four and counting!).

Finishing my fried chicken alone in the office kitchen, my stomach rumbled and I decided to sneak one off. Imagine the sinking feeling in my stomach when i felt the splatter in an otherwise perfectly good pair of boxers.

First I ran out of the kitchen, but decided to leave the floor not through reception, but through a side door. On my way to the side door, I almost crashed into the guy who had to wait while I cleaned out the microwave that morning. I wondered if he could smell me. I was covered in nervous sweat.

I hauled ass (get it) across the H-shaped elevator/entrance area, heading for the bathroom. The bathroom door code on this floor was different from the one on my floor. Shit! Literally! So, I bolted over to the entrance to the stairs, and found myself standing in a strange part of the office, breathing heavy and staring around like a serial killer. The stair entrance was down the hall. Wrong door.

Finally, I made it downstairs to the bathroom, MY bathroom, cleaned myself up, and disposed of the incriminating underwear, returning to my post wondering what the innocent office workers would do if they knew that only a thin layer of denim was separating them from what crasser writers might refer to as "my love muscle."

This action had tired me out, so I opened my book on a shelf that was at chest level and stood there reading for thirty minutes. Potential employers will please note that I was clocked out while doing this.

As soon as I finish reading "The Bonfire of the Vanities" I'll do another round-up of all of the books I've been reading about douchey New Yorkers, in an effort to keep myself from missing the place too much.

Tell Me That The Guy From The Fall Doesn't Sound At Least A Little Bit Like Borat.

2008-08-13T10:05:00.001-07:00

From the day-late-and-a-buck-short-with-the-jokes department:

Let Me Force My Taste In Music Onto You

2008-07-31T12:40:00.000-07:00

Since I tend to operate six-to-eight months behind the curve on internet stuff, this is probably old news to you, but I started using the website Muxtape. It allows users to create twelve-song playlists that anyone can listen to.
My URL is gulliblezine.muxtape.com. Get ready for lots of garage punk and ignorant rap music that makes racist white people go "See, I told you!"

Round-Up!

2008-07-30T15:54:00.000-07:00

MOVIES

Step Brothers

If Will Ferrell and John C. Reily acting like enraged ten-year-olds for 100 minutes sounds funny to you, then this is comedy gold. It almost snorted Jack Daniel’s and Sierra Mist through my nose at one point. The guy playing Will Ferrell’s successful douche younger brother was really funny, too. If you’re still skeptical, rent it – the gorgeous cinematography won’t be compromised by your television.

Blackballed DVD

A comedy about a former paintball champion, now in his thirties, who starts a paintball team of misfits in hopes of winning the title he never got. It’s got a bunch of UCB improv comedy people in it, including two of the guys from “Human Giant,” but the real scene stealer is Rob Riggle from “The Daily Show.” He plays this super aggressive militia dude who joins the paintball team. The movie can drag, but if you like alternative sketch comedy stuff as descended from “The State” or “Upright Citizen’s Brigade,” then there’s something here for you.

MUSIC

David Bowie “The Man Who Sold The World”

When I was a troubled teen of sixteen, I had a tape with this album on one side, and “Ziggy Stardust” on the other, and I’d sit up all night listening to them, falling asleep after the lights came on in the post office across the alley. Back then I thought “Ziggy” was the better of the two, but now that album sounds like show tunes to me, and “Man Who Sold The World” sounds like it’s got one foot in fuzzed out funk, the other in the first couple Black Sabbath records.

Beck “Modern Guilt”

Speaking of stuff I liked in the ‘90s, the new Beck album is really good. It’s concise, with varied but focused songs. The music sounds like someone trying to party but they’re too bummed out. I haven’t given a shit about one of Beck’s records since “Mellow Gold” because I was too punk for my own good by the time “Odelay” came out, then the ones after never stuck with me, but this has been getting regular spins all month.

BOOKS

I’ve gone bananas reading these last few weeks. Check out my Goodreads.

YOUTUBE

Bert and Ernie lipsynching to M.O.P.
Here’s to that forgotten era of hardcore New York “dude in a Triple Fat Goose, shouting” hip-hop.

NYC Stores That Carry Gullible #28

2008-05-20T15:37:00.000-07:00

Listed in alphabetical order!

Academy Annex - 96 N. 6th St. (Between Berry and Wythe) Brooklyn. I think this is considered THE place in NYC for general used vinyl.

Cinders Gallery - 103 Havemeyer St. (Just off Metropolitan Ave.) Brooklyn. They have great art shows, too.

Desert Island - 504 Metropolitan Ave. (Between Lorimer and Union) Brooklyn. New indie comic shop.

St. Mark's Bookshop - 31 3rd Ave. (at E. 9th St.) East Village. My favorite place to buy books when I'm not busy undermining small business efforts by shopping online.

Fuck You Too, Courtney Love

2008-05-16T05:08:00.001-07:00

Converse rolls out the Kurt Cobain signature series. And he didn't even play basketball!

Gullible Zine #28 Out Now

2008-04-24T19:12:00.000-07:00

Gullible Zine #28 is out now. It includes three of my stories about Richmond - About moving there and going to a hippie high school, about some of the buckwild punkhouses I lived in, and about the twilight times before I left. There are also two episodes of my new comic strip called "Chilling," and a story from my friend Cole about getting punched in the face while tripping.
If you'd like a copy and you live in the U.S., PayPal $2 to i_will_dare@hotmail.com, and put your address in the lil' PayPal message. I'll throw in a Gullible Zine button, and maybe some of the back issues I found in my closet. Send any queries about overseas shipping or bulk copies to GullibleZine@gmail.com.

If you're still not sold, here's an excerpt:

"We’d filled the last house to bursting. When I moved in, I was the fifth person living in a four-bedroom. A year later we had eight people, same four bedrooms. Houseguests slept at the top of the stairs and the front door was never locked.
The middle-aged guys next door had a TV set up in back, on the stretch of dirt between their house and the parking lot that the diocese used during the day, and the frat bar used at night. Our neighbors would sit out there without talking, drinking beer, playing the classic rock station and watching car races. “Radar Love” would mix with the long oscillations of cars while I was in our kitchen, sweeping up dead roaches and leaving them in the dustpan.
I came home from work one Friday to find a seven-foot tall wood fence blocking our houses from the parking lot, or vice versa. When I woke up on Saturday morning, someone had spray-painted “SLUM LORD” across the fence in my roommate’s handwriting. 9:30 on Sunday morning, there was a knock on the back door, and I heard hushed southern voices under my window. We had a month to get out."

Nathan's Rasta Glove

2008-03-30T16:18:00.000-07:00

My friend Nathan got these ill Rasta-colored gloves with a roach clip chained to them as an Easter present. Let that sink in. A chain roach clip, which makes sense, because it would be hard to lose. And an Easter present, something no one I know has gotten this millenium. I wonder what the glove smells like?
Here are some photos that he emailed me, and click the above link to check out some of his comedy.

Man, Ain't That News!

2008-03-09T10:46:00.001-07:00

Here's the goal: Gullible Zine #28 will be out by my birthday, the 29th.
So far so good. I've started doing layout, and am tinkering with the last couple of pieces of writing. I'm also working on drawing the cover. Attached above is a sideways-ass detail from the cover art. Thrashin' Ra!
Included in this issue will be some Richmond and tour stories, a couple episodes of a new comic strip called "Chilling," and a contribution from Cole H.
Once I get that all done, the rough plan is to put together my 2007 Haiku Diary, and make issue #30 be The History of The Flesh Eating Creeps (my band from the second half of the '90s). The FEC History should sort of coincide with the release of our discography CD.
That's all. I'll post an excerpt from Gullible #28 when it's done.

Metal Detector Days in Holy Moly/RVA Magazine

2007-09-19T17:50:00.000-07:00

My short story, "Metal Detector Days," is in Holy Moly, a supplement to RVA Magazine. To see it, go to the RVA Magazine site, scroll down about 3/4 of the way, and click on the image on the left side that says "Holy Moly." It'll download as a PDF. My story is on p. 30.

Here's an excerpt:

"Our first morning in Richmond, after my sister and I, both vegetarian at the time, ate grilled cheese for breakfast, he drove our family around Northside, pointing out the houses of all of his ex-girlfriends.
'We went to junior prom together. My daddy said I could only borrow the car if he sat in the backseat. He told me he didn’t wanna be a grandfather just yet.'
We stopped in on his great-great aunt Edith, the one that he didn’t like because she wouldn’t talk to him in the late ‘60s when his hair was too long. She had saved his hippie ass from getting jumped one time when he was leaving her house. As he was walking towards his blue VW Bug, some tough guys crossed the street and came at him. Edith ducked into the shotgun house and came back onto her porch with a handgun, which she fired into the lawn. The thugs crossed to the other sidewalk.
My sister and I liked Edith; when she won at the horses, she’d give us twenty-dollar bills. Twenty bucks was a lot then, when minimum wage was $4.25 and a whole meal at Taco Bell came to $2.07, after the tax.
My mom told Edith about the ex-girlfriend tour.
'Don’t you worry Mary, they’re all fat grandmothers by now.'"

Notes On Haikus

2007-09-06T19:42:00.000-07:00

I suck at keeping a diary, but wanted a way to keep track of my day-to-day life. I was reading Snakepit, admiring the economy of the daily three panels, thinking it was like a punk rock haiku. That got me thinking that I should write a haiku every morning. That was December '05. I've written a haiku every day since.

2005 Haikus

2007-09-06T19:41:00.001-07:00

Haiku 12/8/05

Fuck I hate my job.
Took bong hits, made a mixtape.
Went to bed early.

Haiku 12/9/05

X rocked at Roseland
while I was kissing my girlfriend
walking home real late.

Haiku 12/10/05

Emailing off my
Teaching Fellows Application
praying for cool work.

Haiku 12/11/05

Wrote a guitar song.
Drank with Michelle and Evan.
Nightmare about work

Haiku 12/12/05

In my writing class
Quang had some great suggestions
Had a cold ride home

Haiku 12/13/05

Lost my job today.
"Does that mean I don't have to
work here anymore?"

Haiku 12/14/05

Coffee and comics
Sending out my resume
Grillo's on a date!

Haiku 12/15/05

Stand-up comedy
Pizza place with take-out beer
Transit strike looming.

Haiku 12/16/05

Photobooth photos
of how I rode my bike home,
skinny legs 'n' all.

Haiku 12/17/05

To bed late, rise soon.
Hangover cures, band practice,
Chinexican food.

Haiku 12/18/05

Two hours upstate
for a museum and an
eerie restaurant.

Haiku 12/19/05

I'm breaking atoms,
Brooklyn to Koreatown,
yelling "Free James Brown!"

Haiku 12/20/05

Good ol' transit strike,
every day I ride my bike.
Nothing new for me.

Haiku 12/21/05

I like Wild Turkey,
shitty jokes, and my girlfriend,
all at the same time.

Haiku 12/22/05

Mac 'n' cheese, string beans,
got drunk, got nine hours of sleep,
still a worried man.

Haiku 12/23/05

Last day at my job,
didn't get into grad school,
what else could go wrong?

Haiku 12/24/05

Richmond, Virginia.
Barely just got home, don't know
why I'm bagging leaves.

Haiku 12/25/05

Senile relatives,
angry relatives, good times,
guitar talk and rain.

Haiku 12/26/05

Traffic's never bad
'til you get real close to home,
and sit for two hours.

Haiku 12/27/05

Don't tell my Mom, but,
when you buy drugs from your friends,
you can write a check.

Haiku 12/28/05

Boston's new and old.
The house I was born in is
blue like it was then.

Haiku 12/29/05

Goodbye to Boston.
Chinatown Dunkin' Donuts,
with half a head cold.

Haiku 12/30/05

Guitar Center, please,
fire the guy that said I look
like Brandon Fraser.

Haiku 12/31/05

Adios '05,
your boy can mix a perfect
Manhattan by eye.

2006 Haiku Diary

2007-09-06T19:34:00.000-07:00

Haiku 1/1

What a perfect day.
Horror movie, Mexican food,
and not too sunny.

Haiku 1/2

Japanese bootleg
video games. "Galaga"
is now "Galaza."

Haiku 1/3

Job interview time.
Bust out the ol' Gap sweater,
and tune your guitar.

Haiku 1/4

Dreamt my Dad had a
Bo Diddley guitar with a
bible stuck in it.

Haiku 1/5

Found a part-time job.
Heaven knows I'm mis'rable,
Morrissey was right!

Haiku 1/6

For veggie dumplings,
gamble on sharing tables
at New Green Bo, dude.

Haiku 1/7

This winter's alright.
I haven't worn longjohns once.
Guess I just jinxed it.

Haiku 1/8

Weekends don't mean much
when you only work ten hours
leading up to them.

Haiku 1/9

When you lie awake,
I don't suggest lingering
on past betrayals.

Haiku 1/10

I'm so productive.
I wish that this part time job
could pay the damn rent!

Haiku 1/11

Am I a slackass?
No shower, thanks to Tetris
and an ab workout.

Haiku 1/12

I'm like Sisyphus.
Spent half the day putting back
what I pulled before.

Haiku 1/13

This bar looks like if
a goth teen decorated
her parents' whole house.

Haiku 1/14

Richmond called at 10,
when I was baking cookies,
not sure what to do.

Haiku 1/15

This weekend was great.
I cooked a shitload of food
and bought a guitar.

Haiku 1/16

Sharon, you rule, girl.
Please take me to see Wu-Tang
on Valentine's Day.

Haiku 1/17

Stayed in from the show
to cook and watch "Jason X."
Hell, it was raining.

Haiku 1/18

Got a second job,
an existential nightmare
with a red pencil.

Haiku 1/19

Couldn't sleep last night.
Finished what I was reading,
and lay there, blinking.

Haiku 1/20

Both jobs, ragtime band,
my friends' punk band, bar-hopping,
all on five hours sleep.

Haiku 1/21

My band recorded,
then I went to a party.
Some girl dropped my weed.

Haiku 1/22

I spent the whole day
tripping on magic mushrooms.
I need to slow down.

Haiku 1/23

Try cooking curry
when you've got a bunch of old
veggies in your fridge.

Haiku 1/24

Hit an open mic.
Didn't talk to anyone
but the bartender.

Haiku 1/25

New downstairs neighbor
lets her smoke alarm go off
all the live long day.

Haiku 1/27

People doing coke
look like giant anteaters.
Fun party, lame drugs.

Haiku 1/28

It was so nice out,
but I was in the basement,
recording demos.

Haiku 1/29

It started to rain
when we were leaving the house.
We left anyway.

Haiku 1/30

Only had one drink,
ran three miles, had no fried food,
and feel really good.

Haiku 1/31

Played that open mic
that I talked about last week.
Biked home in the rain.

Haiku 2/1

Peach quesadillas
sure put me in a good mood.
Here's to you, black beans!

Haiku 2/2

Finish up your work,
the plane to Puerto Rico
leaves just before dawn.

Haiku 2/3

On the plane at 5
"Walk the Line" was the in-flight
Already sunburned.

Haiku 2/4

Gallos, platanos
tele en el hotele,
y ron sabroso.

Haiku 2/5

The beach in the rain
is still pretty fucking sweet.
Kinda miss veggies.

Haiku 2/6

Sacamos fotos
en un cementerio,
en un gran playa.

Haiku 2/7

Boring plane ride home,
unpacked, rocked Cody Chesnutt,
destroyed the bathroom.

Haiku 2/8

Work computer's down,
other job wants more hours,
friends in town backed out.

Haiku 2/9

Great head-butt, Jamie.
It looks like a herpes sore
on my lower lip.

Haiku 2/10

Going to Philly
to see Wu-Tang tomorrow.
36 Chambers!

Haiku 2/11

Wu-Tang in Philly,
then "Bride of Chucky" was on.
Happy birthday, Dad!

Haiku 2/12

Big fucking snowstorm!
Bus drivers still won't slow down,
but we're home on time.

Haiku 2/13

All these things to do
fill my head and keep me from
doing anything.

Haiku 2/14

V-Day was a bust.
I tried to paint the bedroom,
and Sharon was sick.

Haiku 2/15

I called in to work
so I could finish painting.
Don't tell anyone!

Haiku 2/16

I hung up some shelves.
We moved in eight months ago,
so it was high time.

Haiku 2/17

Ever just stay in
'cos you think you're getting sick,
then just get hyper?

Haiku 2/18

Ate a lot of beans
and hung with Shauna and Matt.
It was cold as fuck!

Haiku 2/19

When you cook a bunch,
try to make the bath towels
smell like fried chicken.

Haiku 2/20

Got a bad night's sleep,
treated my stomach bad, and
saw bad comedy.

Haiku 2/21

I got drunk on wine.
All Strangers played a great show
at a good potluck.

Haiku 2/22

I work from home, and
my neighbor likes reggaeton.
Callate, cono!

Haiku 2/23

In the studio
until one, working on the
All Strangers demo.

Haiku 2/24

Tacos for dinner,
hilarious bus driver,
scary cab driver.

Haiku 2/25

Tacos for breakfast,
and hung out with my parents.
Also saw Liza!

Haiku 2/26

No tacos today,
just band practice and oatmeal.
Watched "Pink Panther," too.

Haiku 2/27

Some days just go by.
Nothing funny or crappy,
just work, eat, and sleep.

Haiku 2/28

Put in my notice!
ROCK 'N' ROLL WILL NEVER DIE!
Take that, shitty job!

Haiku 3/1

Drunk guy by the store
is singing Luther Vandross
while we're walking home.

Haiku 3/2

Right after dinner,
I organized my closet
while I was all high.

Haiku 3/3

When Sharon's not home,
I cook meat and listen to
music that she hates.

Haiku 3/4

Saw The Smoking Popes,
and the Curious George flick.
Hear that? Best day ever.

Haiku 3/5

Slept in like crazy,
and got nothing done all day.
Couldn't even sleep.

Haiku 3/6

Man was I tired,
on autopilot all day.
Finished my book, though.

Haiku 3/7

Red wine marinade,
garlic mayo sauce, and a
book by Chester Himes.

Haiku 3/8

Took the day off work
because it's Sharon's spring break.
Rode our bikes around.

Haiku 3/9

Found a light up cross
by a church on Washington.
Brought it home. Creepy!

Haiku 3/10

Some nice-ass weather!
Nothing to do but drink beer!
Springtime in New York!

Haiku 3/11

Ate Veggie Castle,
walked home, biked to a soul night
at a soulless bar.

Haiku 3/12

Bad day, thanks to a
fucking allergy attack.
I hardly went out.

Haiku 3/13

I quit my dumb job
and stayed up 'til 3 mixing
the All Strangers stuff.

Haiku 3/14

My new rule of thumb:
Only go to restaurants
that fat people like.

Haiku 3/15

My temp job is doomed,
but my "Beavis and Butthead"
DVDs did come.

Haiku 3/16

Read. Push-ups. Coffee.
Work. Jog. Lunch. Laundry. More work.
DVD. Punk show.

Haiku 3/17

Finally checked out
the liquor store with the huge
rum pirate out front.

Haiku 3/18

Had to drown a mouse.
Got a tracksuit from Caitlin.
What a weird/cool day.

Haiku 3/19

Next year, my parents
are moving back to Boston.
Get outta the south!

Haiku 3/20

The post office line
was so long, my MP3
battery ran out.

Haiku 3/21

Did some temp work for
the folks I work from home for.
Then I worked at home.

Haiku 3/22

Working lots this week,
saving for when I don't work,
and I just worry.

Haiku 3/23

I worked ten hours
on one website. I think my
eyes are gonna cross.

Haiku 3/24

Whatchoo know about
a nineteen hundred dollar
tax return, sucka?

Haiku 3/25

I paced myself well.
Drank a lot of shitty beer
and secondhand smoke.

Haiku 3/26

I worked a lot, but
still had a lazy Sunday.
It's a crime not to.

Haiku 3/27

I should have changed pants.
My "work jeans" got all smoky
over the weekend.

Haiku 3/28

Yo! Thank you, Ghostface,
for dropping a fly album
right by my birthday.

Haiku 3/29

I'm twenty-seven!
Started my year clear-headed;
worked hard, exercised.

Haiku 3/30

Walked through the city,
and then I rode my longboard
through my neighborhood.

Haiku 3/31

The Westside Highway
bike path shoots up Manhattan
like spice through your tongue.

Haiku 4/1

Two trays of nachos!
This includes three bags of chips,
and four bags of cheese.

Haiku 4/2

Nachos, two new songs,
skateboarding, nice-ass weather,
Jamaican shower.

Haiku 4/3

Sat up late, reading.
And I saw Bobcat Goldthwaite
walking down Broadway.

Haiku 4/4

I crave free time, but
when I get it, why do I
just piss it away?

Haiku 4/5

There's no telling if
I'll want to be creative
when I have the time.

Haiku 4/6

Young bar folks get all
nostalgic for alt-rock songs
I'm too old to like.

Haiku 4/7

Saw The Hold Steady!
Sharon said I was the most
ethnic person there.

Haiku 4/8

Had a hangover.
I gave myself a tattoo
and had some houseguests.

Haiku 4/9

It's between winter
and the allergy season.
A grace period.

Haiku 4/10

Did you ever drink
bourbon from hollow chocolate
Easter Bunny heads?

Haiku 4/11

There's a bottle of
Remy in the food photos
at the Chinese spot.

Haiku 4/12

Celebrated our
anniversary, watching
"Reno 911."

Haiku 4/13

My sister's moving
in a neighborhood over.
I made stuffed peppers.

Haiku 4/14

Sat in traffic for
four hours and I had an
allergy attack.

Haiku 4/15

My old band played a
reunion show in Richmond.
It was really fun.

Haiku 4/16

Lost my voice last night,
and spent the afternoon in
my parents' crawlspace.

Haiku 4/17

Went to a high school,
spoke to a class about zines.
Still freaked out by jocks.

Haiku 4/18

Pervert's holding up
nudie photos from his car.
I'm on the Greyhound.

Haiku 4/19

Left my phone at work,
then returned Matt's Metrocard.
Made two trips back.

Haiku 4/20

Dude, it's four-twenty!
I cleared the bong twice before
heading off to work.

Haiku 4/21

Pulled a skater punk
up through Bed-Stuy on my bike
on my way back home.

Haiku 4/22

Felt sick and sneezy.
Got Tigerbalm in my eye,
and watched "ATL."

Haiku 4/23

When the rain let up,
we rode bikes into Crown Heights
for some ital food.

Haiku 4/24

A little-known fact:
An hour of air hockey
is really tiring.

Haiku 4/25

Lew, Drew and me jumped
the Coney Island gun. Cheap
beer's back in my life.

Haiku 4/26

I dreamed I pissed blood.
That'll sure fuck up your day.
I blame the pollen.

Haiku 4/27

Know what I'm sick of?
Sneezing! Fucking sneezing! Ugh!
I'll run out of snot!

Haiku 4/28

Bar's got weak drinks, a
four dollar photo booth, and
dress shirts. I'm leaving.

Haiku 4/29

I played music with
Kareem, Myles and Marc today.
Good times, loud guitars.

Haiku 4/30

Blugh. Sat on my ass
doing extra freelance work.
Not much to report.

Haiku 5/1

Lord, please help me stop
listening to Hall & Oates
over and over.

Haiku 5/2

Working at home is
kinda lonesome, but better
than dealing with jerks.

Haiku 5/3

Why'd it start to rain
when I was gonna go skate?
Meh, guess I'll just bike.

Haiku 5/4

Well-fed pink men say
"Fuckentwelvepackgoateeman"
in ol' Virginia.

(*for Meeo)*

Haiku 5/5

I'm a grizzly bear.
I just eat a lot of fish
and hang out alone.

Haiku 5/6

Harlem walking tour.
Saw where my grandma hung out.
It's an IHOP now.

Haiku 5/7

When you work at home,
the city is yours, but you
share on the weekend.

Haiku 5/8

Got a bunch of zines
and fell asleep reading them
on the couch at nine.

Haiku 5/9

Sharon woke me up
so there'd be a new haiku
when she got to work.

Haiku 5/10

Yes! Stuffed pepper date!
"Grandma's Boy" on DVD,
and Table Talk pies!

Haiku 5/11

Why did the cops tail
me when I was out riding
my bike in the park?

Haiku 5/12

Got gay married
to get some health insurance.
Shit's cruising along.

Haiku 5/13

Had some friends in town.
Goddamn did I eat a lot.
By "eat" I mean "drink."

Haiku 5/14

Glad I'm not used to
the hangovers anymore,
but damn do they hurt.

Haiku 5/15

With all this free time,
you'd think I'd write more than just
a haiku a day.

Haiku 5/16

Emergency room
was too busy, so we left
and bought Jack Daniel's.

Haiku 5/17

Wow, what a fun night!
Art, slider burgers, and a
German beer garden.

Haiku 5/18

I cooked four courses
and not one of them was fried!
I'm losing my touch.

Haiku 5/19

Went drinking again.
Wow, what will I think of next?
Hangovers rock ass!

Haiku 5/20

The dance party ruled!
I made the floor electric
to Miami bass.

Haiku 5/21

Slept 'til noon cos I
went to a dance party and
spilled beer on my Clark's.

Haiku 5/22

I worked, read, and cooked.
Hugel came by for a bit,
we watched "CSI."

Haiku 5/23

The glare of the sun
was so strong that I hardly
got home from the park.

Haiku 5/24

Yesterday's was "emo."
I meant that the weather's sweet,
and Prospect Park rules.

Haiku 5/25

Went to a weird show.
Made me glad I don't still tour.
My ears are ringing.

Haiku 5/26

I made a collage
of porn and religious tracts,
then drew a skater.

Haiku 5/27

Helped my sister move,
then got four drinks spilled on me
at a "dance" party.

Haiku 5/28

At a cookout, got
two sets of balls on my head
at the same damn time.

Haiku 5/29

Got hot overnight.
I cut the sleeves off some shirts,
and ditched out on socks.

Haiku 5/30

A new way to say
"Worked, took a bike ride, cooked, chilled"
would be most welcome.

Haiku 5/31

Went to see Team Dresch.
Brought back punk house memories
while they owned the stage.

Haiku 6/1

I stayed in to rest.
It was a long week of fun,
and I'm partied out.

Haiku 6/2

The sky opened up
down by Empire Boulevard.
Soaked and far from home.

Haiku 6/3

It was all rainy.
I got full of cheezburgerz,
and did some writing.

Haiku 6/4

It's good to go out
on Sunday nights. Keeps Fox shows
from taking over.

Haiku 6/5

Neighborhood kids say
"Hey mister, do a kickflip!"
when I'm out skating.

Haiku 6/6

It's 6/6/06!
Went out looking for LARPers.
Not much going on.

Haiku 6/7

I appreciate
a big dinner, a bongload,
and a few whiskeys.

Haiku 6/8

Popping pills to sleep,
fucking neighbors all outside,
radio still plays.

Haiku 6/9

This Green Day CD
is so old that the songs don't
come up on iTunes.

Haiku 6/10

I got a fever
and couldn't go see Dungen.
How shitty is that?

Haiku 6/11

I dreamt my old job
was in a high school classroom.
It made perfect sense.

Haiku 6/12

With no appetite,
I'm a shadow of myself.
I hate being sick.

Haiku 6/13

Raymond Chandler makes
me wish for a past era
I'd never live in.

Haiku 6/14

My Grandma's dying,
my job's cutting my hours,
and my new band rules.

Haiku 6/15

Slept bad, worked too much,
then saw Maceo Parker,
and all was aces.

Haiku 6/16

Extra work, the park,
a book, a margarita,
a sugar headache.

Haiku 6/17

It was overcast
and the water was freezing,
but the beach still ruled.

Haiku 6/18

It was hot as nuts
and I had the worst beershits.
Got some writing done.

Haiku 6/19

Worried about work,
'cos they're cutting back hours.
Otherwise, just chilled.

Haiku 6/20

Went to an art show.
I stood on the balcony
and watched the city.

Haiku 6/21

Fucked up resume,
still got the interview call.
This job should rule... NOT!

Haiku 6/22

A creepy dude bar,
and then to a gay punk show.
I ran the gamut.

Haiku 6/23

New England traffic,
and leaving New York traffic.
A bizarre beach town.

Haiku 6/24

Ate a Maine lobster
then panicked at the pitch-black
small town seaside night.

Haiku 6/25

Drank the hangover,
ate the leftovers, hit a
Russian barbecue.

Haiku 6/26

When it's late and drunk,
"No Parking Monday" looks like
"No Parking Sunday."

Haiku 6/27

I often miss home
when I'm on a trip. It's hard
to miss loud neighbors.

Haiku 6/28

Is it a good thing
when Wednesdays feel like Sundays?
I need some more work.

Haiku 6/29

Found a pair of shades
almost just like the sweet ones
I broke last summer.

Haiku 6/30

Ate vegan all day
and ran around the whole park.
...then I got shitfaced.

Haiku 7/1

I thought that the fruit
from the empty sangria
was fruit salad. Eww.

Haiku 7/2

At the beach I saw
Corky from "Life Goes On," and
got a sunburned chest.

Haiku 7/3

It was hot as nuts.
I went for a run, and then
played a decent show.

Haiku 7/4

People next to us
singing patriotic songs
in off harmony.

Haiku 7/5

Sent out resumes,
made stuffed peppers, wrote a bit.
Where did my day go?

Haiku 7/6

Two calls about jobs!
Fired up the slow cooker,
and stayed up too late.

Haiku 7/7

Manager asks me
to "describe your work ethnic."
I don't want the job.

Haiku 7/8

Ladies & gentlemen, people of the press, I ask you:
Which one of these two haikus should be the official Haiku of The Day for July 8th? Leave your vote as a comment...

1.
I don't see new bands,
just the reunions of bands
I liked in high school.

2.
Got doored on my bike
after hanging with Barker
at the Lifetime show.

Haiku 7/9

We biked up to Queens.
Went to an Olympic pool
and a Czech beer hall.

Haiku 7/10

I love the crockpot-
the whole apartment smells tight!
Ate a huge dinner.

Haiku 7/11

Slow cooker all day,
while I was at band practice,
and doing laundry.

Haiku 7/12

My modem's fucked up.
No "How To Tie A Tie" site
for my interview.

Haiku 7/13

Did courier work,
saw free music in the park,
and had nice houseguests.

Haiku 7/14

My friend Mike's in town.
Known him since 7th grade math,
but we get drunk now.

Haiku 7/15

Chicken and waffles,
outdoor food and Art Brut show,
Common on Fulton.

Haiku 7/16

Verrazanno toll
is like eating spicy food -
hurts more going out.

Haiku 7/17

I took three dumps, and
stepped on a little kid's hand.
He was on some stairs.

Haiku 7/18

Oppressively hot.
Stayed in doing freelance work,
took a walk at night.

Haiku 7/19

Had a band practice
in the middle of the day.
Working at home rules.

Haiku 7/20

Got a cameraphone.
The first photo that I took
was of Sharon's boobs.

Haiku 7/21

Woke up in Richmond.
It's real hot in the suburbs.
Went to Mike's wedding.

Haiku 7/22

It's hot in Richmond.
Drove from AC to AC,
even with the clouds.

Haiku 7/23

Man, fuck the Greyhound.
And the guy on his cellphone.
Fuck him too, big time.

Haiku 7/24

Did some freelance work,
signed with a temp agency,
drew a sweet wizard.

Haiku 7/25

Went for a good run -
the weather's been mercyful.
Ate some leftovers.

Haiku 7/26

I think this temp job
wants me to take a drug test.
What do I do now?

Haiku 7/27

Flight to Milwaukee.
Haven't seen Neil in three years.
Tax refund summer!

Haiku 7/28

Off the plane, to the
Black Holocaust Museum
then a Brew'ry tour.

Haiku 7/29

A creepy brownout,
foot blisters, deep-dish pizza,
Nice boobs, Chicago.

Haiku 7/30

Milwaukee sure eats.
A sunburn Sunday street fair.
Milwaukee sure drinks.

Haiku 7/31

On the plane first thing,
sore from the crooked futon.
Had a great visit.

Haiku 8/1

With the heat index,
it's as close to boiling as
it is to freezing.

Haiku 8/2

It was hot as nutz!
Had a dude date to the beach
with good ol' Joey.

Haiku 8/3

To get free healthcare,
I should have worked two hours less.
So damn frustrating.

Haiku 8/4

A triathalon!
Went running, biked to a show,
and walked to a bar.

Haiku 8/5

Going kinda broke,
then I got shortchanged five bucks.
Wound up drunk. The blues!

Haiku 8/6

Freckles on my lips
from all the sun this summer.
They look like ink stains.

Haiku 8/7

Rode to Big George's,
talked to a merchant marine
about Australia.

Haiku 8/8

It's so damn nice out,
even Wythe Ave. was pretty.
That's impossible!

Haiku 8/9

Did some freelance work,
and sent out some resumes.
Hung with Marc and Glenn.

Haiku 8/10

Donuts are hard drugs;
they seem like a fun idea,
but they just hurt you.

Haiku 8/11

I should be sleeping,
but instead I'm haikuing.
Tomorrow I'll hurt.

Haiku 8/12

Three meals of tacos.
Almost beat the hangover.
Sorta took a nap.

Haiku 8/13

I slept the hell in,
and then worked on some writing.
Get better, Sharon.

Haiku 8/14

A temp agency,
a sweet new tattoo design,
awesome comedy.

Haiku 8/15

Computer's fucked up,
what the hell else can go wrong?
It's Caitlin's birthday.

Haiku 8/16

Ravioli soup,
a couple new leads on jobs.
Not optimistic.

Haiku 8/17

Edited my zine.
I'm gonna lay it out soon.
This is exciting.

Haiku 8/18

Coffee, Hall and Oates,
run in the park, interview,
a rooftop party.

Haiku 8/19

Bootleg DVDs,
then a birthday kegger for
Caitlin and Joey.

Haiku 8/20

Damn "Snakes on a Plane"
bootleg stopped in the middle.
I just went to bed.

Haiku 8/21

Scared up a temp job,
dreamed that Manhattan was cool,
copped the new Outkast.

Haiku 8/22

Placing lots of calls,
asking questions about decks.
Temp it up, tempy!

Haiku 8/23

It's weird to be back
on work-run-cook-then sleep mode.
How will next week go?

Haiku 8/24

Phoning this one in
because yesterday was like
the day before it.

Haiku 8/25

Left work at two, to
try and get my head on straight.
So goddamn tired.

Haiku 8/26

Smoked a bunch of hash
then took pictures of my dick.
Yup, I suck at life.

Haiku 8/27

More shitty weather.
I did a ton of cooking,
then layed out my zine.

Haiku 8/28

Big Bank Brooklyn to
Money-makin' Manhattan -
Drinking the cheap stuff.

Haiku 8/29

Got soaked in the rain -
fuck this Noah's Ark bullshit.
Young Brothers first show.

Haiku 8/30

Biked up to Times Square.
When I got to my temp job,
I was sweaty as hell.

Haiku 8/31

I went out to dinner -
the seitan tasted like feet.
Walked home from Times Square.

Haiku 9/1

I fell on my face
while doing the Kid 'n' Play
in my living room.

Haiku 9/2

Slept in, drank coffee.
It's still raining, and so I
went out and got drunk.

Haiku 9/3

Finally sunny.
Biked around all day, drinking
and eating pizza.

Haiku 9/4

I wore myself out
on another long weekend.
Stay in to do work!

Haiku 9/5

Got a "manny" job,
taking care of a toddler.
Things are settling in.

Haiku 9/6

What's worse than waiting?
People fussing about the
line at the PO.

Haiku 9/7

We've come for art films,
learning, and satisfaction.
And we got art films.

Haiku 9/8

At my internship
we rocked Wu-Tang Clan all day,
then I bought some bourbon.

Haiku 9/9

A final beach trip.
A breezy rooftop party.
Summer's winding down.

Haiku 9/10

African drum sesh
on a backyard trampoline
on Atlantic Ave.

Haiku 9/11

If I mention it,
then all the terrorists win,
and The Post shuts up.

Haiku 9/12

Day one of sitting.
The little kid is awesome
and I'm exhausted.

Haiku 9/13

Played a real good show,
and busted out some new songs.
Joey on djembe.

Haiku 9/14

Babysat all day.
My new rap name: Han Dolo.
Got a new TV.

Haiku 9/15

Got parents in town
and bitemarks from then kid I
took care of all day.

Haiku 9/16

My parents came by,
then I went to band practice,
and ate some hot wings.

Haiku 9/17

The best bourbon is
always named after someone's
racist grandfather.

Haiku 9/18

Why does UPS
deliver at the same time
after you're not home?

Haiku 9/19

I'm more productive
when I'm busy as shit. Now
I'm REAL productive.

Haiku 9/20

Freelanced a whole bunch,
went to the grocery store,
then watched "Vacation."

Haiku 9/21

Where do mosquitos
come from when it's September?
They go TO my room...

Haiku 9/22

Does babysitting
and editing Moms make me
metrosexual?

Haiku 9/23

Went apple picking.
A van all the way upstate
rode with sixteen friends.

Haiku 9/24

The bourbon tasting
started at noon, then I got
a flat on my bike.

Haiku 9/25

It's Sharon's birthday.
Was the weird neighbor watching?
Sure as hell hope not.

Haiku 9/26

Pinkeye's almost gone.
Busted out the contacts and
got school-night loaded.

Haiku 9/27

A hangover walk
twice across the neighborhood
in the sweet fall sun.

Haiku 9/28

Had a good bike ride,
looked for the new Lemonheads,
did some voiceover.

Haiku 9/29

Pretty easy day
babysat, made some dinner,
ate lots of dessert.

Haiku 9/30

Biked up to Bushwick
got a fever, some guy tried
to steal my damn bike.

Haiku 10/1

Stayed in bed 'til one,
took a nap at seven, then
back to bed at ten.

Haiku 10/2

Ev'ry night I get
eaten up by mosquitoes.
What the fuck? It's fall!

Haiku 10/3

Got a tattoo of
an orangutan dressed up
as Dr. Watson.

Haiku 10/4

I'm stressed the hell out
working, cooking, and packing
to go see Byers.

Haiku 10/5

Some crockpot cooking,
and packing for my bus trip.
Not a lot happened.

Haiku 10/6

Up at 5 a.m.
and read a lot on the bus.
New England's killer.

Haiku 10/7

Took a nine-mile hike,
and then ate a cheeseburger.
Mancation kicks ass.

Haiku 10/8

We used to come here
in the '80s. Now I'm here
by coincidence.

Haiku 10/9

Took a final hike
to a little waterfall,
then got on the bus.

Haiku 10/10

Back babysitting,
still thinking about hiking.
This walk-up ain't shit.

Haiku 10/11

Stuck on a dark bus,
rain, at the end of the line.
Thanks for the heads up.

Haiku 10/12

The kid wouldn't nap
and I couldn't sleep last night.
What a damn headache.

Haiku 10/13

I was real sleepy
so I watched "Barbarella"
and had a big meal.

Haiku 10/14

Had some band practice,
homemade fried chicken, and then
my old friend, cheap booze.

Haiku 10/15

Oops, woke up early.
An aimless Manhattan walk,
and a huge dinner.

Haiku 10/16

Got rung up wrong and
got a free blazer that I
still couldn't afford.

Haiku 10/17

Saw some comedy.
Got singled out for some "laffs."
Women be shopping.

Haiku 10/18

When freelancing you're
rarely comfie, never bored,
and often worried.

Haiku 10/19

The day just went by,
and there's nothing wrong with that
every now and then.

Haiku 10/20

There's lots of wiggas
living in Cincinnati.
What's crackin', "8 Mile?"

Haiku 10/21

Driving through Cinci
and eating all of Cinci.
Good time, sprawl city.

Haiku 10/22

Well, drank like a champ
under the gray 'nati sky,
and conked out early.

Haiku 10/23

Dude! We got a cat!
He's gray, with blue eyes, like me.
We named his ass Carl.

Haiku 10/24

So fucking windy!
Had to pedal going down
the Manhattan Bridge.

Haiku 10/25

Peanut gallery
at the laundromat hates on
reality shows.

Haiku 10/26

It's gray and windy.
Rode my longboard to Park Slope
and did freelance work.

Haiku 10/27

After band practice
I got all wet biking home
and stayed the hell in.

Haiku 10/28

Sharon spilled her bike
and bled all on her costume.
"A dead Blues Brother."

Haiku 10/29

A perfect Sunday
with time in the park and a
ton of home cooking.

Haiku 10/30

Made a mix CD-
jams for embarrassing dads.
Don Henley, Dire Straits.

Haiku 10/31

Happy Halloween.
A night of staying up late
for no good reason.

Haiku 11/1

Rock cliche Mad Libs.
"We just came off this looooong tour!"
"Thanks for coming out!"

Haiku 11/2

Watched "East of Eden."
James Dean's way overrated.
What a crybaby.

Haiku 11/3

Saw a suit fall down
on the sidewalk in SoHo.
That shit made my day!

Haiku 11/4

Hungover as shit.
Walked to Union Square, made zines,
four-story punk show.

Haiku 11/5

Security guard
at the Jewish Museum
followed us around.

Haiku 11/6

Man, I ate a lot
of food for no good reason.
The Food Lion roars!

Haiku 11/7

Repubs lost the house.
I feel a bit less guilty
cos I didn't vote.

Haiku 11/8

Jalapeno hands
holding my contact lenses
and stinging my eyes.

Haiku 11/9

Seventy degrees?
Not wearing jackets because
global warming rocks!

Haiku 11/10

The cat hit my balls
and the kid I babysit
stepped on my tattoo.

Haiku 11/11

I, slug, ate some grease,
went to the movies, and then
stayed up late, drinking.

Haiku 11/12

Running in the rain
until my feet got soaked and
I wrung out my clothes.

Haiku 11/13

More rain and more sleep,
heating up some leftovers,
watching "CSI."

Haiku 11/14

The job you don't want
is always the first to call.
Misspelled resume.

Haiku 11/15

Fuck Cablevision!
They can't fix my internet
because theirs broke too!

Haiku 11/16

Lots of shit to do
so I'm wasting lots of time
getting nothing done.

Haiku 11/17

Shitfaced in Red Hook,
singing some karaoke
for Evan's birthday.

Haiku 11/18

The cable guy came
while I was busy puking
up water and beer.

Haiku 11/19

The classic slow day
running errands, eating brunch,
and watching cartoons.

Haiku 11/20

What a long-ass day.
Babysitting a fever
that wouldn't go nap.

Haiku 11/21

Part time and short term,
the magic words on CraigsList
when weird job hunting.

Haiku 11/22

Plenty cheeseburgers
Wondering why cool kids all
dress like Garth Algar.

Haiku 11/23

Happy Birthday, Mom.
Woke up and started cooking
then walked in the rain.

Haiku 11/24

More babysitting
and then even more eating.
What a killer rut.

Haiku 11/25

A weekend workday
makes for a weakened chill day
and a night at home.

Haiku 11/26

Until it got dark,
in the park for three hours
walking in a "Q."

Haiku 11/27

Fifty Queens cop shots
Diallo for 2K6
Bet the pigs go free.

Haiku 11/28

Plenty of biking
and ital-vital eating,
plus it never rained.

Haiku 11/29

Nearly December
and it's sixty degrees out.
Al Gore is pissed off!

Haiku 11/30

No real exercise.
57th Street's too far
for a bike commute.

Haiku 12/1

Rabbit rabbit, y'all!
Happy birthday Jeremy,
sweet surprise party.

Haiku 12/2

Cruising along, tired.
Eighteen back-to-back work days.
This is number seven.

Haiku 12/3

When you get locked out,
take a walk in Central Park
while they get the key.

Haiku 12/4

It's finally cold,
giving me an excuse to
park it in a bar.

Haiku 12/5

Didn't do jack shit,
just rode my bike in the cold
and rocked some salmon.

Haiku 12/6

Did some freelance work,
ate Vietnamese seitan,
and that's about it.

Haiku 12/7

At the mattress store
guys talk aboout "Britney's snatch,"
and play Heavy D.

Haiku 12/8

Paper Sisyphus
while these stacks of editing
replenish themselves.

Haiku 12/9

What does "faux dive" mean?
Fratboys in a basement with
eight dollar call drinks.

Haiku 12/10

First night bartending
was exhausting - Second job
I went to that day.

Haiku 12/11

Shut my eyes on foot,
seeing if I can rest while
walking to the train.

Haiku 12/12

Finally slept in,
got to take a bike ride, and
cooked a huge dinner.

Haiku 12/13

Seventeenth day straight
at one job or another.
Making up lost time.

Haiku 12/14

Jogging in the fog
and playing like I'm Frodo
on an epic quest.

Haiku 12/15

Fifty-two minutes
to walk to Houston St. from
Columbus Circle.

Haiku 12/16

Carried a toddler
and a piss-covered kickball
across Canal St.

Haiku 12/17

Bartended again.
It was all cool except for
counting out the drawer.

Haiku 12/18

Anxiety dreams
about friends eating raw meat
geting hit by cars.

Haiku 12/19

My last day of work
until well after Christmas.
Finally rest up.

Haiku 12/20

First day off all month.
Fried chicken and Christmas gifts
with my lady love.

Haiku 12/21

Up at 4:30,
losing my contact lenses
before showering.

Haiku 12/22

Slept ten plus hours.
I love that secondhand smoke,
the rain, and the car.

Haiku 12/23

There's no such thing as
a considerate smoker,
with my lungs involved.

Haiku 12/24

Took a reggae run
Hung with the kegerator
Drew dicks on my face.

Haiku 12/25

Weird conspiracy:
James Brown dies the day before
Jesus's birthday.

Haiku 12/26

Had some Terrytime,
took Sharon to Mamma Zu's,
and then to The Byrd.

Haiku 12/27

Dreamt about mole,
bad talk radio car ride,
took off on my bike.

Haiku 12/28

Didn't do jack shit,
and it felt about perfect
to sit on my ass.

Haiku 12/29

Had a big morning
acting wicked cultural,
then I got some beer.

Haiku 12/30

Rode my bike around
exchanging those xmas gifts
that don't fit my life.

Haiku 12/31

10 9 8 7
6 5 4 3 2 1 and
chocolate fondue!

Notes On Gullible No. 26

2007-08-16T18:35:00.001-07:00

Gullible Zine No. 26 was a split with Snake Pit No. 34. It came out in 2005 and Ben Snakepit did the cover art.

My side had three stories, some comics and some recipes. I'm posting the stories as I dig them off of my old computer, and am hoping to scan the comics and post them too.

These were some of the first zine stories that I had written in years. I spent most of the early oughts writing fiction for school, and touring a lot with my bands, living the stories that I'm still writing about. I started working on zine stories again in late '04, at a boring office job.

The Snake Pit side was a departure from Ben's usual daily comics. Instead, it was a series of stories and rants about love, friendship and punk. Due to the personal nature of some of the zine, Ben wanted his side to fall out of print. Instead of wondering at the dirt on all of his ex's, I suggest checking out some of his excellent comics
here.

Recipes - Gullible No. 26 - 2005

2007-08-16T18:31:00.001-07:00

Sweet Kale

This recipe is good will collard greens, too, but I prefer kale because it’s slightly thicker and has an almost nuttier taste.
Serves two or three.

12 leaves of kale, with stems
1 red apple
3 tbsps. Honey
½ cup apple juice
Handful of raisins
Tbsp. apple vinegar (optional)

Chop apple into cubes, like for fruit salad.
Rinse kale and chop.
Heat wet kale over low heat in a covered pot.
Stir and add apple juice, vinegar and raisins.
Once apple juice is heated, add raisins than honey. Stir.
Keep covered.
Dish is done when kale turns a vivid green and apples become softer.

Wilted Spinach

Serves two.

½ bunch of spinach, well-rinsed and chopped
2 cloves garlic, diced
Tsp. butter
Salt and black pepper, to taste.

Melt butter over high heat in non-stick pan.
Add ½ of garlic and sautee for a few seconds.
Add spinach and stir in with spatula.
As spinach begins to wilt, stir in remaining garlic.
Add salt and black pepper to taste.
Dish is done when spinach is wellwilted, but not cooked to mush. The idea is for the stems to still have a little snap.

Tofu Fingers

1 lb. tofu, cut into 8-10 rectangular “fingers”
3 cups milk or unsweetened, unflavored soymilk
¾ cup white flour
3 tbsps. bread crumbs
10 shakes of black pepper
Paprika and salt to taste
Vegetable oil

Soak tofu fingers in milk for five to ten minutes.
Heat ¾ of an inch of vegetable oil in a pan, preferably cast iron.
Combine flower, bread crumbs and seasonings in a bowl, mix with fork.
Roll pieces of tofu in breading until evenly coated.
When the oil is really hot, keep range at medium heat and add tofu.
The breading will crisp on the tofu. Turn tofu with spatula until all sides are well browned. The tofu should be in the pan for eight to ten minutes.
When tofu is done, drain it on paper towels, then serve with your favorite dipping sauce.

Into To Gullible 26 - Split With Snakepit - 2005

2007-08-16T17:46:00.001-07:00

Ten years ago in Richmond, Virginia, I was new in town, in high school and just getting into punk. I started doing this zine, singing in a band and going to five dollar, all ages shows at the club down the street from my parent’s apartment. Ben was one of the cool, older kids. I’d go to shows in his attic, see his bands and buy his zines at Soundhole. I was all of sixteen and he must have been about twenty. In Richmond, where the scene is centered on the college, people in their early twenties are the scene’s elder statesmen.

I left Richmond at the beginning of my mid-twenties. By then, I’d done twenty-five of these zines, had twenty-seven roommates between five punk house addresses, toured ten countries in two different bands or with just my guitar, and never had a job that paid made more than seven dollars an hour.

Most of the stories are from my last couple of years in Richmond. A lot of fun was had, some knowledge was gained and a few things, like some friendships, my liver, and this zine, suffered. While still in Richmond, I couldn’t get a perspective on what was going on, so I was doing zines of drunken emails and fictional short stories. I wasn’t as proud of them as I am of this one.

It feels great to be doing a split zine with Ben. I’ve always liked his music and his zines, so I guess I look up to him. This difference is, now, I’ve caught up, and we’re both older punk guys. I live in Brooklyn, sometimes I tuck in my shirt at work, and when I read too much Snake Pit, I find myself “Snake Pitting” my day, or mentally reducing it to three panels worth of action. I lie in bed and, to the sound of my neighbor’s car alarm, decide whether I’d draw something inane that happened at work, or what I cooked for dinner. Dinner usually wins.

The Tour Story to End All Tour Stories (Gullible No. 26 - 2005)

2007-08-16T17:34:00.000-07:00

We didn't stay in Salt Lake City because there was no reason to stay in Salt Lake City. Being neither great nor a lake, the Great Salt Lake had been a sham. It turned out to be a pit full of triple-briny water pockmarked by floating dead birds with excess corpses marooned on the surrounding rocks, like stray noodles on the side of a day-old soup bowl. As we approached in the van, we were wondering what the smell was (yes, this was coming from six guys who had been traveling in a van for three weeks), and hoping that it would subside by the time we reached where we were going to be swimming. Joke was on us - the place where we thought we'd be swimming was the source of the smell. The Salt Lake expanded, stinking, into the horizon, laying in the dead heat and touching the dome of tangible blue sky. Like the lake, the roads in SLC are wide too, and after the show, we hit them like the crack of a goddamned bat. With only two bands and no one to talk to, the show had flown by. The only people at the show were the other band. They sounded like John Cougar Mellancamp, and sat down while we played, then slowly filed out. It was June, approaching the longest day of the year, and barely even dusk when we left Salt Lake City.
We stopped the van in southern Wyoming and woke up in a cowboy motel. Dusty ground, huge fucking sky and awesome old Native American patterns painted on the outside of the motel. We slept until fifteen minutes before checkout, the last guests to leave, stealing to the van in groups of two, passing impatient cleaning ladies, missing last call for fast-food breakfast and settling for those awful veggie burgers at Burger King.
On blacktop, in a metal box, under the sun, the heat will consume you. Get used to it; there is nothing else to do. Complaining will only further agitate those around you, so just ditch the t-shirt, get down to your boxers or your Daisy Dude cut-off Dickies, and put your feet up on the dash. Let that breeze get up there.
As we got through Colorado, the songs on the radio got better. The airwaves were blessed with consistently good classic rock that everyone could agree on; we heard plenty of CCR, while Free and America were but a distant memory. The people of Colorado are probably sick of "Lodi," but that's not the one that they play on the radio where I'm from, and you'll probably never have to hear that .38 Special song where even the guitar solo has a Southern accent.
We got to Denver in the middle of rush hour. The show was at the High Life House in Colorado Springs, about an hour away, and we hoped for it to be a bit of a taste of home. In Richmond, a forty of High Life is $1.59, and the punks save their pennies accordingly. I remember taking my skateboard on a beer run for a bunch of guys and wheeling nine forties of The Champagne of Beers up to the gas station counter saying “I suuure am thirsty!” to a cheering crowd of ghetto dwellers, scratch-off lovers and rent-a-cops, then wheeling the hooch around the corner to a porch full of psyched-up underage house-show goers. And so things often went in Richmond, on the weekend or on either of the days in between. The most you would be getting done was seeing how loud your voice echoed when you screamed into your own void of alcohol and apathy, but damn if it wasn't fun.

Colorado is distinct, a beautiful state, and moods were high, despite the heat. The stop and go traffic was going to lead us somewhere good, as long as that crazy-looking burly trucker with the flatbed full of barrels didn't kill us.
Why was he inching forward in the next lane, grinning at us behind those shades? Could he see into the van? Was he making eye contact?
"What are you guys doing?"
Mike was riding shottie.
"We're on tour. We're from Virginia."
"No kiddin'. How many guys you got in there?"
Traffic began to move a little. The flatbed fell back as our lane sped up. Soon the truck was back next to us. You could see industrial Denver through the cab’s windows and the slatted walls on the bed of the truck.
"Six. We got six guys."
"You guys must be some hot cookies!"
Eww! I knew he had some sort of a look on his face. But Mike was nodding and craning his neck while his jaw hung a little loose, looking like a baby bird about to be fed.
Pot cookies. The trucker was offering us pot cookies.
"Well, pull closer!"
The flatbed lurched left at our red van, a sunburned bear's paw full of cookies hanging out of the window. Traffic began to move again and Mike yelled "Quick! Hold me out the window!" to everyone in the back seat. Kirby and Neil pointed Mike the baby bird at the approaching truck while the van rocked. Evan was holding the wheel, watching the road and trying to calculate the distance to the truck.
Contact.
"Thanks, man!"
The van flew forward, and cookies were distributed among our group. The taste of ginger, brown sugar and finely ground marijuana glowed in my mouth and the cookie was down the hatch before the trucker caught up again. We all waved and grinned at this guy that looked like Santa Claus after one too many journeys down ZZ Top road.
"Have a nice trip! Har har har har!"
The truck passed and the lane next to us was clear.
"What the fuck did he just say? Have a nice TRIP?"
"Sweet!"
"Uh-oh."
"Well, it just tastes like weed."
"I don't know about this."
Jeff's half-chewed cookie was in his palm. Me and Neil picked it in two and gobbled the softened food, like baby birds would do.
When you eat weed, it takes about an hour to kick in. When it does, you're fucked for the rest of the day. At least. It takes an hour to drive from Denver to Colorado Springs. We parked the van by a large house on an orderly tree-lined suburban street. I opened the side door and went to put my foot down on the curb, but, as I watched, the curb kept getting farther and farther away.
"Heh. Hey guys, I think those cookies are working."
These were still the beginning stages, and we couldn't tell if we were just loopy from spending the afternoon in a hot van. Two minutes later found us sitting in the front reading room of an enormous, well-kept house. I was trying to focus my eyes on a collection of Daniel Pinkwater novels. Chris, the guy who did the show, was at the end of an Alice in Wonderland-style hall that twisted a little as the walls and floor bucked and swayed. He was standing in the kitchen and his voice sounded funny, kinda like the boombox in my old kitchen that played tapes at whatever speed it pleased.
"You guys want some spaghetti?" modulated down the hallway.
Six heads nodded in unison to a guy who seemed to be intent on making us dinner before his batteries ran out.
"So, you guys are on Level-Plane?"
Still slow. Another minute to register.
"Yeah."
A couple of months beforehand, we had agreed to do a record with a buzzworthy label. We had nothing to show for it except the adoration of smarmy, messy-haired punk rock hipsters. It was awesome to have more people at our shows, but I couldn't shake the feeling that these were a new generation of the same kids who had made me feel so alienated a couple of years earlier when I didn't have a band.
I was in the sort of spirit where I was able to read people's auras, and I didn't get that kind of feeling from Chris at the High Life House. I liked him from the start, plus he was making us spaghetti. I still couldn't read the Daniel Pinkwater book.
The food did a disappearing trick, and we could hardly wait for round two to boil. Pasta rocks firmly planted in stomach, we filed into the wide, humped street and began hitting a wiffle ball around as cars full of punk rockers arrived and parked, cutting into our playing field and covering second base. Soon there were enough people for a Virginia versus Colorado game, which was a good match even though we couldn't throw the ball straight and Neil ran clear into the curb, landing in the patch of grass by the sidewalk.
In due time, everyone was thirsty, and a beer run was in order. Following my "see as much of each city as possible" policy, I tagged along, hopping in the hatchback of one of the local kids. I had about fifty dollars in my hand from bandmates, show-goers and someone's Dad who had asked for a sixer of something called "Fat Tire."
The liquor store was in the middle of a stretch of low buildings and was staffed by two women. One woman was in her forties, the other well into her sixties, and they were both drunk on the job. When we walked in, the younger woman was screeching something at a guy who was on his way out, with a bulky brown bag tucked under his arm. The older woman stood beyond her, behind the counter and quiet. The store had a low ceiling, musty lights and wood paneling. It was like stepping out of the clear day and into a teenage stoner's basement rec-room. Both clerks wielded brownish, creamy cocktails, complete with ice cubes.
I've been in my fair share of liquor stores across the forty-eight contiguous, but I can't say that I've ever dealt with a visibly drunk liquor store clerk. You'd think that the job would lend itself to this kind of behavior, but maybe I'm projecting. One of the regulars at my old job worked in the ABC store up the street. She quit after a few months, saying that it was just too depressing seeing the same people in there every day. Maybe the job would act as a deterrent, kind of like how the food from my old bakery job turns my stomach. I dunno, but I'm pretty sure that if I also had worked at a liquor store and you put a cinnamon roll and a pint of bourbon in front of me and said I'd have to do without one or the other for the rest of my life, I'd tell the pastry to take a hike.
I perused the aisles of the store, checking forties off of my list of requests from the folks at the show, and checking out the local cheap beer options. Every city has a cheap forty, and it's the touring band's responsibility to seek out and sample these beers each and every night. Colorado Springs had no Genesee Cream Ale, no Ballantine's. I had six packs, twelve packs and forties under my arm and hitched on my hip like a baby, and I nudged it all onto the counter. I was only halfway through the list.
"Hold on, there's more coming."
"That's what all you men say!"
That would be the younger clerk. Liquor breath confirmed.
"Well then, I'll call you tomorrow, baby."
I turned around and refilled my arms with beer. Wound up spending $43 at that liquor store.
Funny how numbers wind up sticking with you. I remember not being sure of how well we had played and asking Jeff how we had done. He said that it had sounded fine, and that we had sold eight LPs, a solid number for a basement show where at least half of the audience was young enough to not have a record player at home.
Why do I remember $43 and eight LPs and not remember the time leading up to when we played, or even really playing for that matter? I suppose that the only things I could count before we played were the number of beers that I drank, or the number of trips we took to the van to smoke weed. And, if you ask me, if you say you got wrecked and you know exactly how many drinks you had, then you weren't really wrecked.
All that I remember of playing was the little nook to the right of the drum set where the house's boiler was. Chris from the house stood over there along with one or two other kids. Out of the corner of my eye, I could always see the light hitting the tentacles of the boiler that went into the walls and across the ceiling.
It's not unusual to not remember playing, booze or none. Unless something really drastic happens, or, like the Salt Lake City show, the situation is really awkward, I just find myself checking out during the songs, concentrating on the music and going into my own little world.
The people in the basement were loud, and there was a festive atmosphere in the room. I hate to say it, but fun can be rare at a punk show, where, more often than not, the audience is made up of twenty glum boys with their arms crossed, looking at you like you just took away their internet privileges for a whole week. In Colorado Springs, I got the idea that the kids came to every show just for the fun of going to a show, and made a point to make it a good time for all involved. As far as I could tell, it worked.
They made us play an extra song, then started yelling at us to clear out our equipment and make room for a game of naked four-square. We loaded amps down the gravel and broken glass driveway and into the van. Back in the basement, the kids had lined up along a wall, revealing a ten foot X of dirty duct tape, made across the old carpet that covered the floor.
Every time that you lost a round of kickball, you had to take off an article of clothing and get right back in line. The funniest part was being in line, surrounded by a bunch of half-clothed punks, laughing it up, but trying not to bump into each other as the line jostled forward.
Once we were down to our underwear, Neil and I decided to make a trip to the van and enhance the situation with a little grass. It gets cool in the night during a Colorado summer, and I was very aware of this while I was walking across the driveway, dodging broken bottles and shivering when the wind hit my sides while my arms were out for balance. When we got back inside, the game quickly got to the point where everyone that stuck around was naked, and that signified a kind of a stopping point.
"Naked dance party!"
The party charged up the stairs and into the tranquil first floor of the house. Some latecomers sat on the couches by the bathroom, and Kirby was on a chair by the cellar door, face really close to an acoustic guitar, red eyes squinched up and a perplexed look on the rest of his face. Imagine his surprise when the rest of his band charged up the stairs, buck-ass naked and tailed by the rest of the show, buck-ass naked. He set down the guitar and stayed in his chair as a popular dance-punk CD was put on, and thirty-odd naked bodies began gyrating around him.
In the new setting, folks became a little more conscious of their vulnerable, bare skin, and when I got back downstairs from a bout with the grass pipe in someone's bedroom, the party had started to break up. This was for the better, because I was so high that my vision was blurred, lights blotting into the air like when seen through tears. It must have been two in the morning, not too late for a tour sleep schedule, but it had been a long day.
The foyer of the house had a seven-foot-wide bay window on a landing three steps up the staircase, and that's where I spread out my sleeping bag. Kirby and Jeff were on a fold out sofa in the library room and the other guys were upstairs. I took out my contact lenses and began to drift right off. On tour, nothing is as bipolar as your own sleeping bag. Some nights, it's bottomless, and turns the floor into a mattress of its own. Other nights, it scratches, then tells the breeze to chill the sweat on your back when you lay on top.
I loved the window in which I was laying and was half-asleep when I heard the angry squeal of the bedsprings on the pull-out sofa, followed by the syncopated thump of unsteady feet landing on the floor. Yakking noises followed footsteps barreling across the foyer, stopping when the mystery rager tripped on the bottom step and lay on the landing, head on forearms, quietly puking down the stairs.
It was dark in the house, and my vision without contact lenses is pathetic. I couldn't tell who it was laying there four feet away, puking into the early morning, but my last, relaxing thoughts before leaving the night in a haze of marijuana were "Wow, the puking sounds like a burbling brook."
The next morning, there was a pink film of vomit on the hardwood floor. It had scraps of spaghetti in it, looking like cells in a seventh-grade biology slide. Mike came downstairs. I pointed.
"Watch where you step, man."
"Damn CT, was that you?"
"Naw, I heard someone come off the couch in there, but I couldn't see who."
Enter Jeff. I'm sure I wasn't looking all that dapper, but dude was a sight to be seen. He had red eyes behind crooked glasses and even his stubble had bedhead.
"Jeff, did you puke last night?"
You have to ask these questions quietly. No one should be stuck with the blame for such a thing, then maybe have to clean it up off of a relative stranger's floor.
"No. I just passed out."
I could have sworn that the perpetrator had Jeff's dark hair. We gathered our things and were back on the road in a few minutes. We were officially heading back east. No matter how long a tour is, as soon as you pass the halfway mark and start heading home, you begin counting the days until your first day back. No matter how sick of your job you are, no matter how much you hate your ex-girlfriend, you still wanna get home, even if it is just to be sure that your six roommates haven't gotten you evicted.
Last night's debauchery made me conscious of my road worn body, and with the direction set towards home, we took off to the next show with a certain longing. We'd slept clear through fast-food breakfast time again, and were heading towards another Burger King. My body needed the food, but I was none too happy about it. Jeff was sitting in the middle, getting late-morning sun from all directions except up, and I'm pretty sure that he wasn't awake yet. I went to give him a good tourmate pat on the back, and stopped when I saw the pink stains dried to his navy-blue shirt.
"Jeff, you DID throw up!"
"No I didn't!"
I pointed at his shirt and he looked genuinely surprised. God bless him. Hell, God bless all of us for living through this and enjoying every horrible second of it.

Statute Of Limitations (Gullible No. 26 - 2005)

2007-08-16T17:30:00.000-07:00

At the end of one February, we did a weekend tour through the northeast. We tried to do one weekend a month; a nearby show on Friday, a longer drive Saturday, then an early show on the way home Sunday, arriving in Richmond after midnight, road-stiff and constipated.
This Sunday, the show was an hour west of Philly, in Allentown, Pennsylvania. The first show at a new punk house, with a vegan potluck to boot. After two days of sitting in a van, filling myself with beer, Subway and Chinese takeout, the potluck was a welcome sight. This was over a year before my famous appetite earned me the tour nickname The Food Lion (named for a grocery store chain in the South), but the attitude was intact, even if my behavior was formative. I tended to eat like a dog, especially during the eleven years that I spent as a vegetarian. If you put food in front of me, I'd eat until it was gone. My vegetarian years were all before the metabolic shift that begins in the mid-twenties, so, I was having a harder time getting full, at a time when my body already needed more food.
To make matters worse, I love to cook. Food rarely tastes right to me when it comes from a restaurant. I spend most of the meal deciding just what I would have done differently in my own kitchen, and mentally cataloging tastes and spices to crib for my own recipes. More and more, cooking has become a creative process for me. Making food is something that I have control over, that I use to please my friends, that I can perfect to my own taste, or fuck up and evaluate my mistakes. More often than not on tour, we bust out of our sleeping bags and into the van, then roll up to the show without time to eat, never mind cook. It’s nice to be playing music on tour, but it’s a strange limbo, because you don’t get to create on tour, you just retread what you already have done. Eating is not too different - rest stop food is rest stop food no matter where you are.
Place me, the young Food Lion, after a couple of days without home cooked food, in front of a vegan potluck. Now, step back while carnage ensues.
It was to be a fun show. Everyone at the house was enthusiastic and positive and we were playing with a couple of bands from Philly, who promised to bring a caravan of our friends with them. Beard jokes aside, a unifying trait among our friends from Philly was a good sense of humor, so we were all looking forward to being the out of town band who shows up at the show and sits in a corner with their friends, laughing at inside jokes. Weird how I began to enjoy the punk scene a little more when the way I conducted myself began to mirror the actions of those that I found alienating a few years beforehand. This was at the same time that I was realizing that if the older punks who seemed aloof back when I was in high school are anything like my friends now who are in their mid-twenties, then those seeming elitists were really just shy goobers with poor social skills. Let's face it, Saves the Day mall-schlock aside, punk is for the socially inept. Some eighteen year olds outgrow their awkwardness and get out of punk, others turn into twenty-five year old spazzoids who feel a little displaced every morning that they wake up in their own bed, instead of on tour. Take it from an insider.
Vegan potlucks tend to be heavy on the pastas and desserts. I was finishing off a plate of dry cookies and dense cake as people began to sift into the basement, where a band was tuning up. Louder than electric guitars, nature called. The crowd on the house's ground floor had thinned, leaving me plenty of privacy in the can.
Aside from dumpstered bagels and a never-ending stream of people to swim with, the best thing about a punk house is the supply of reading material in the bathroom. On the back of any given toilet, you tend to find a couple of local zines - emo kids have personal zines, politicos tend to stick with heavy-handed pro-vegan pamphlets - along with yellowed copies of standbys like HeartAttaCk and Maximum Rock 'n' Roll. The inevitability of finding these zines in punk house bathrooms is such that if you begin reading a Mykel Board column in Columbus, you can finish it in a bathroom is Des Moines less than a week later.
I shut the door and went about my business. It was a quaint, freestanding house in a small northern town, and something about the tile, layout and even the residual scent of previous, less punk tenants, reminded me of the bathrooms of my relatives up in the Boston area. I hate to admit to getting a sentimental while taking a dump and reading a copy of MRR, but that's what happened. My mood lightened a little, and I felt less road worn. As is my compulsion, I splashed water in my face after washing my hands, dried off with a grubby bath towel and headed through the kitchen and into the basement.
At the top of the steep basement stairs, I was greeted by a group of dismayed punks, charging three abreast up the wood steps.
"Ahh, don't go down there!" said a bearded guy in a Carhartt jacket.
"A pipe burst and there's SHIT spraying everywhere!" said a girl in plastic glasses, corduroys and a thrift store t-shirt.
Kids who lived in the house barreled down the stairs, upstream against the thirty-odd show goers who were beating a rapid retreat upstairs.
SHIIIIT!
I turned tail and followed the show out onto the soggy, February lawn. Within a minute, everyone that was inside was outside, and grossed out. Bringing up the end of the parade was an unfortunate bunch of musical equipment that had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. A shit-slick black bass drum, an amp covered in fuzzy gray fabric, now splotched with wet, brown stains.
Those who needed to get cleaned up, got cleaned up. Word spread through the lawn that the septic tank had backed up from all of that afternoon's use, and a pipe in the basement had clogged and burst. The rest was history. The kids from the house braved the basement and attacked the mess with ammonia and mops. I was divided - I had been the last one in the bathroom, so it was kind of my fault. But, mine was the crap that broke the camel's back. Today alone, many others had used that toilet, and none of them were sloshing around, ankle-deep in punk rock dookie, they were going across the street and stealing things from WaWa. I try to be a stand-up guy, but there's a certain somewhere that you need to draw the line. I lived five hours away, and the clothes on my back were all that I had. I couldn't hop back to my house and change, then get back for the rest of the show, and I'm not G.G. Allin, so I wasn't going to play covered in shit.
It would have spoken really nicely for the punk rock community if we had formed a human assembly line, bailing out the basement by passing buckets of septic water up the stairs and dumping them out in the lawn, but that didn't happen. I didn't feel up to initiating a relief effort, so, feeling like an arrogant deadbeat, I followed the crowd over to WaWa and stuffed my jacket pockets with convenience store food.
For those of you living in less-industrialized parts of the country, and in the dark, allow me to fill you in, because you tend to laugh when you hear someone get excited about a store called WaWa. WaWa is a gas station/convenience store chain, popular in Pennsylvania and New Jersey that was among the first convenience stores to offer alternatives to standard chemical-food fare. Their sandwich bars and kiosks full of “fresh” fruit and salad are a welcome sight when you don't want lunch at Taco Bell again. What truly makes WaWa remarkable is that, especially in suburban settings, the counter is at the front of the store, flanked by two exits, and, get this; the cash registers are positioned so that they face the parking lot! In other words, the employees have their backs to the store for most of the time that you're in there.
Most convenience stores insurance policies dictate that they have a no-chase rule regarding shoplifting, but you can still be stuck with the occasional vigilante who will chase you out into the streets of downtown Richmond. This is a non-issue if the folks at the register literally turn their back to you while you order a sandwich from the sub counter, then walk past the line and out the door, with your lunch in your hand.
In a recent issue of "America?," Travis Fristoe was talking about aging within the punk scene, and mentions reaching a point where you start to consider that Clif Bar in your pocket, and wonder if the two dollars you'd have to shell out for it at the counter are reasonable not-going-to-jail insurance. This little slice of zine came to mind a few weeks ago when I was on a car trip and paid for lunch at a Wawa in Delaware. Getting caught for a four dollar sandwich wouldn't have been worth the hassle, or the heat endured from my traveling partners, if I had been caught. But, boy did I feel like a chump, taking my time walking back to the car with my food in a plastic shopping bag instead of a coat pocket. I hadn't been on tour in over a year and I began to wonder if I was losing my touch, or if it would come back if I ever got to go on tour again. Most people stop stealing because of warrants or because they had some horrid experience with shoplifting that makes them swear it off, but supermarket security didn't drag me past the employee lounge and into an interrogation room, I just petered out.

After an hour or so, the show continued, and despite the overpowering smell of ammonia, people crowded into the basement. I didn't even tell my band mates about who was the last one in the bathroom before what was beginning to be called The Shitpipe Incident. I felt bad for being the last one in, and even worse for not helping clean, kind of like how lying to your Mom made you not enjoy that one R-rated movie that you saw when you were seven.
The rest of the show went off without a hitch and we pulled out of Allentown, with our friends pelting out van with dirty snowballs from gray snow banks.
We were all tired, and the van had a sleepy Sunday feeling, coupled with a small case of the going home blues. Once we were on the highway, I spilled the beans and the guys had a good laugh at my exploits.
"You're lucky that the guy with shit all over his amp didn't find out!"
That's true. I'm just glad that the statute of limitations on that story was only a couple of hours. No matter what the penalty may be, a good story is an urgent thing, and the wait to tell it can be the longest in the world.

Before our band was together, a couple of guys were in another band that used the same van. The band that only did a one week tour with that line-up. The band that kept a diary of all of their inside jokes on the white painted ceiling above the loft. The band whose singer spent the night in the van and whacked off in that same loft, then announced it the next morning, while everyone was sitting in that same van, imagining him, not six feet away, at eye level in the loft, blowing his load into a fast food napkin. Ugh.
He should have waited to tell that story. That would have been great ammo for when the guy who owned the van left the band.
"Oh yeah? Well, go ahead and quit! And take your van with you! Shit, I used the fucking loft as a cumrag! Howyalikemenow, motherfucker?!"
Instead, he dropped the bomb mere hours after doing the deed, grossing out his tour mates and setting a strange tone for the rest of the trip.
On the way home from a tour, when we were feeling accomplished, and the van hadn't broken down for a couple of months, we'd recap all of our adventures. How many shows we'd played, what town had the best crazy people, what town had the worst crazy people, the dumbest thing that was said in the van, the time we stole a bunch of liquor and broke off the backdoor of a random college party in Cleveland...?
Whenever we were reminiscing, the story of the singer for that other band jerking off in the loft would come up.
"Man, I can't believe he did that."
"That's nasty."
And, every time it came up, I'd be holding back on a story that I had that sent that one running home like a sore loser from a wiffle ball game.
It had happened in Michigan, in the middle of our second tour. We were playing a few shows in the Midwest and were on the last leg of the trip, discussing a possible drive through Canada to save time on the trip home.
I'd slept like shit the night before and was in the loft, dozing. We'd been on the road for a couple of weeks, my girlfriend at the time was about a thousand miles away, and I hadn't jerked off in four or five days. The hum of the American-made engine vibrated the loft, and my sleepy mind kept returning to sex, fantasies growing more detailed and lengthy as I lay on my stomach, getting harder and harder. I remember thinking of a girl that I had a crush on in high school that I hadn't seen since. I remember pressing my sex against the plywood loft while fever roared in my ears. I remember my underwear getting really sticky all of a sudden, and feeling kind of relieved.
When you come, you think everyone for a mile around you is in on it. The sensation within your own body is so universal that you forget that, aside from a small spurt at waist height, the experience was pretty self-contained. I squinted my eyes open, now feigning sleep instead of wishing for it. I saw the backs of four guys heads; smoking, driving and reading. They hadn't heard the commotion going on in the loft, in my pants. I stayed on my stomach, feeling my seed spread across my boxers and cling them to the red shock of hair above my privates. The van was nearly twenty years old, and it would need fuel sooner or later. When it did, these boxers were finding a new home in a gas station trashcan, and I was freeballing it at least until we got to the show.
I was dying to tell that story, but I couldn't do it while we still had that van. I didn't wanna hear about it every time someone considered sleeping in the loft.
"Oh, I would, but I don't wanna sleep in CT's cumstains."
It wasn't until about a year later when that van finally bit the dust. It was the tail end of yet another tour, and our second to last show had been in Columbus, with a friend's band. They had the next day off, and decided to follow us to Cleveland to see if they could jump on our show.
They got on the highway ahead of us and got in the center lane. A few minutes later, we were passing them, and Mike and I decided to moon their van out the side of our van. Mike hung his ass out the shotgun-side window while I pressed my clammy rear against the window that spanned the back seats. We could see Steve in his van in the next lane over laughing and shaking his head, then doing a double take as his jaw dropped and a look of horror took him over. My ass isn't that bad looking! Then I heard the bang and saw the black smoke boiling out of the hood of the van and into the Ohio afternoon. A metal object that sounded baseball sized ricocheted around under the hood and the van immediately lost steam. Mike and I pulled our pants up and both bands pulled over.
A quick look under the hood proved us to be totally and absolutely out of luck, but we had to get to the show. We'd flaked out on Cleveland twice before and those kids were gonna hate us. Now here we were a hundred miles away, looking at flaking out again. The show must go on!
My gun-nut aunt whom married an engineer buys the whole family Triple A cards every year, and that'll save a touring punk's ass three times over. We called a tow truck and most of the guys in my band hopped in the other van, sitting in laps and curled up in the loft. We pulled up at the show with a tow truck and a surprise band that the kids in Cleveland loved. We were really pleased with ourselves until it came time to go home.
It wasn't easy to find a U-Haul truck on a Sunday evening in Cleveland, and all that they wound up having was a bigger one than we needed. So, the band fund was thrown to the wind. Neil and I lay on amps that were laid out on the floor of a big U-Haul, Jeff lay out in Mom's Attic over the cab, and the other guys sat up front, smoking cigarettes and watching the miles recede as we headed home at the end of a month long tour, our first to the west coast.
At a gas station near Cleveland, Mike opened the back of the truck just long enough to give us one tall can of beer. It was gone after a forty-five second punk rock feeding frenzy, and then the three of us sat on musical equipment and passed the time finishing off the band's supply of grass, freestyle rapping in the pitch black back of a moving truck.
Mike and I traded spots, so I got to see the tail-end of West Virginia as we passed through the mountains at dawn. The fresh air was wonderful, and I swear that southern air smells different. It's narcotic; thicker and sweeter than the industrial carcinogens of the northern Midwest, where we had been.
We got a new van, and I sat on my loft story until the right time. It was months later, and we were in the middle of nowhere in Kentucky when the mood caught me.
"Hey guys, I got a story that I've been waiting to tell you for over a year now…"

POSTSCRIPT

After I told my band mates that I was the culprit at the shitpipe show, word got around. One of my band mates, who shall remain nameless, was in touch with the guys from the house, and told them. We played a show in Philly almost a year later, and when I went to check the microphone before we played, there was a crude note taped to it. There was a drawing of a dagger and, written in red marker it said "We know you did it!" I looked up and there was a huddle of kids from that house in Allentown, pointing and laughing.

I Wrote Some Zine Reviews For Razorcake #38

2007-05-25T15:53:00.000-07:00

So, if you'd like to see just how I shit on the creative endeavors of the young and disenfranchised, click here and order issue #38.

"It's a bland song, sung to the tune of 'The Post-Collegiate Blues.'"

Gullible/Blurt Split Reviewed In Give Me Back #51

2007-05-25T15:32:00.000-07:00

by Fil
I like CT's stories. He has an eloquent way of debauchery and the aftermath. Punk stories from a maturing perspective. In that way Gullible kind of reminds me of Rice Harvester or Complete Control. I'm into it. The inside cover and first couple pages of the Blurt side look great. This issue is a collection of "drunk stories." There are things that I would enjoy witnessing, hearing about or reading about in moderation, but together in a group I found it mind-numbing. The titles by themselves are more entertaining: "tongue dried," ""rug ppuked," "friends ruined," and "pants ripped." If you get this for the Gullible side you'll probably enjoy both.

Gullible/Blurt Split Makes A Splash On The Internet

2007-03-11T08:17:00.000-07:00

As reviewed by James McQuiston, Editor, NeuFutur magazine.

Reviewed 10 March 2007

The split is about traveling and drinking. I am familiar with the work
of Lew (Blurt!), but I have not familiarized myself with Chris
(Gullible). Chris is linked more with the whole band dynamic, where Lew
comes off as an individual that has been afflicted with wanderlust. I
must say that I am jealous at all the places that both individuals go.
As someone that collects 40 ounce bottles, I'm sure Lew has tapped
through a few I don't have. Anyways, each author has their own style.
While the split is set up so that 24 pages are one zine and the other
twenty-four pages (accessed by flipping over the zine) are the other,
there seems to be a lot of unity between the two writers. While a
number of splits seem to be working at different levels, Chris and
Lew's work during this split show that splits can work. While the drink-heavy of prose written by Lew can get a little tiring, eir
writing during this issue has some of the funniest lines that I've read
in zinedom this year. For example, there is just a page of things that
individuals said to eir in order to make Lew remember what had happened
during the last night. On the other hand, there is another high point
of the zine in Chris' side of the split, where ey points out a tip list
for those individuals going out on the road (which I believe was reprinted
in another zine, but the readership I believe is different between the
two). Get a copy.

Gullible 26/Snake Pit 34 Split Reviewed In MRR In 2005

2007-02-06T19:31:00.000-08:00

Reviewed by AS in Maximum Rock 'n' Roll in, if I remember right, the September '05 issue.

"Here we have a split between Snake Pit and Gullible. Ben Snakepit, whose awesome zine features scores and scores of three-paneled strips (each documenting one day of his life), shifts gears here and does his half with all writing, no comics. The result? Snakepit can hold his own without the aid of pictures, luring you in with tales of heartbreak and humor over which he reminisces while traveling Japan. His enthusiasm is infectious and his stories are a blast to read. C.T. Terry of Gullible zine tells some tour stories too, and adds some comics and a recipe for variety. This is a solidly written and produced zine. In fact it even has some graphic and aesthetic themes! Zine makers need to look at zines like this and pay close attention, maybe even take notes. Good stuff."

On Touring Comfortably - Razorcake No. 36

2007-02-03T08:05:00.000-08:00

I wrote an article for Razorcake called "On Touring Comfortably." It's a guide to not going too nuts on a punk rock van tour, and I tried to make it humorous and informative.

I've included an excerpt below. The actual article is about 4,000 words long. Damn!

If you like what you see, and would like to read an entire issue of what I consider to be the Don Diva of punk rock, check out Razorcake.org for ordering info on issue number 36.

Here's the excerpt:

"Always help load the van. Don’t just carry your equipment, and don’t expect other people to carry your stuff. You’re not the only person who’s drunk, or tired, or sweaty. Your band mates will notice how you make yourself scarce when it’s load-out time, and one night you will look up from hitting on the promoter’s girlfriend, and see your equipment sitting alone on the stage, half an hour after your band stopped playing.

On a long ride, never do two things at once. Let’s say you have a book, an mp3 player, and a sandwich, and you get in the van for the day. If you spend an hour listening to music while reading and eating, you won’t be nearly where you want to be before you’re sick of your book, and your mp3 batteries have died. If you spend an hour reading, put down the book and put on your headphones for an hour, then turn off your jams and eat some lunch, you will have passed nearly three hours. It’s all about killing time, kinda like jail without the push-ups.

Speaking of getting buff in confined areas, get a handgrip. Those are things that have two small handles, and are loaded on a huge spring, so you squeeze the handles together, buffing up your forearms, and blowing off how you’re mad at your band mate for the way that they wear their earphones on the wrong ear (I promise, after a few days in the van, the fact that someone is alive will infuriate you).

Keep some flip-flops with you. Sandals do look goofy, but if you have some flip flops in the van, you can spend all day airing out your feet, then have something to throw on when you pull into a gas station, and want to maximize your snack-stealing time. Besides, Outkast rap about wearing flip flops, and everything that Outkast does is cool."

Gullible 27/Blurt 4 Review In Razorcake

2007-01-29T18:45:00.000-08:00

Review by Daryl in Razorcake No. 36. Check out Razorcake.org for continued good times.

"This zine rules! Both of these guys are great writers and great storytellers with great stories to tell. This issue of Blurt! is really different than the other ones I've read. The writing style has switched to some form of stream of consciousness writing that would have been really easy to do badly, but comes off really well. It's almost like poetry or somethin'. If you're into these kinds of zines, you've probably read these guys' work before, and if you haven't then too bad. Either way, you should definitely get this."

Gullible/Blurt Split Receives Tepid Review In MRR

2007-01-25T06:57:00.000-08:00

Review written by Nick Mangel in Maximum Rock 'n' Roll No. 285 (February 2007)

"Pretty interesting personal split here. Gullible is mainly personal stories, somewhat Cometbus-style, with some stuff about life being on tour, etc. Blurt is all about drinking stories, and some pretty funny ones at that. It probably tells you something about my sense of humor and level of mental development that I found the drinking stories much more engaging. Cool."

Excerpt From My 2006 Haiku Diary

2007-01-16T19:41:00.000-08:00

Haiku 4/1

Two trays of nachos!
This includes three bags of chips,
and four bags of cheese.

Haiku 4/2

Nachos, two new songs,
skateboarding, nice-ass weather,
Jamaican shower.

Haiku 4/3

Sat up late, reading.
And I saw Bobcat Goldthwaite
walking down Broadway.

Haiku 4/4

I crave free time, but
when I get it, why do I
just piss it away?

Haiku 4/5

There's no telling if
I'll want to be creative
when I have the time.

Haiku 4/6

Young bar folks get all
nostalgic for alt-rock songs
I'm too old to like.

Haiku 4/7

Saw The Hold Steady!
Sharon said I was the most
ethnic person there.

Haiku 4/8

Had a hangover.
I gave myself a tattoo
and had some houseguests.

Haiku 4/9

It's between winter
and the allergy season.
A grace period.

Haiku 4/10

Did you ever drink
bourbon from hollow chocolate
Easter Bunny heads?

Haiku 4/11

There's a bottle of
Remy in the food photos
at the Chinese spot.

Haiku 4/12

Celebrated our
anniversary, watching
"Reno 911."

Haiku 4/13

My sister's moving
in a neighborhood over.
I made stuffed peppers.

Haiku 4/14

Sat in traffic for
four hours and I had an
allergy attack.

Haiku 4/15

My old band played a
reunion show in Richmond.
It was really fun.

Haiku 4/16

Lost my voice last night,
and spent the afternoon in
my parents' crawlspace.

Haiku 4/17

Went to a high school,
spoke to a class about zines.
Still freaked out by jocks.

Haiku 4/18

Pervert's holding up
nudie photos from his car.
I'm on the Greyhound.

Haiku 4/19

Left my phone at work,
then returned Matt's Metrocard.
Made two trips back.

Haiku 4/20

Dude, it's four-twenty!
I cleared the bong twice before
heading off to work.

Haiku 4/21

Pulled a skater punk
up through Bed-Stuy on my bike
on my way back home.

Haiku 4/22

Felt sick and sneezy.
Got Tigerbalm in my eye,
and watched "ATL."

Haiku 4/23

When the rain let up,
we rode bikes into Crown Heights
for some ital food.

Haiku 4/24

A little-known fact:
An hour of air hockey
is really tiring.

Haiku 4/25

Lew, Drew and me jumped
the Coney Island gun. Cheap
beer's back in my life.

Haiku 4/26

I dreamed I pissed blood.
That'll sure fuck up your day.
I blame the pollen.

Haiku 4/27

Know what I'm sick of?
Sneezing! Fucking sneezing! Ugh!
I'll run out of snot!

Haiku 4/28

Bar's got weak drinks, a
four dollar photo booth, and
dress shirts. I'm leaving.

Haiku 4/29

I played music with
Kareem, Myles and Marc today.
Good times, loud guitars.

Haiku 4/30

Blugh. Sat on my ass
doing extra freelance work.
Not much to report.

Order Gullible 27/Blurt 4 Split Issue From Microcosm

2007-01-05T12:04:00.000-08:00

This is the newest issue of Gullible, and it's a split with Lew Houston's Blurt zine. Lew talks about booze the whole time, and I tell some tour stories, and some Richmond stories. We're both proud of it.

Cover art by Jamie Ewing. The image on the right is the cover of Lew's side.

While you're on Microcosm's website, check out some of the other dope zines and books that they sell. Good folks doing a good thing.

Microcosm Publishing