Zeke, Spider Deaths, Miss Bliss and MORE!!!

bus it. (now break into obligatory rhymes)... nevermind. so, i just finished this long ass blog about how old my alarm clock was and how i got it in 1989 and i loved it and it ruled to the maximum but it rules considerably less now... and now it isn't up here. fuck! i think myspace conspires against alarm clocks, or at least alarm clock posts. so how was everybodys Memorial Day? Do a lot of "memorializing"? i spent the day moving out of our old bandroom (next to the caterie) and into our new one (at Adam, Talley, and Paul's new house). it was loads of fun. the kids moved into some new digs and the house is pretty sweet, only problem is that they won't allow dogs. and who would happen to have a dog but the legendary Michael Talley. so, he comes up to me and ask if i'd be willing to dog-sit. i was thinking about getting some new alarm system for the house, so i figured that could definately be an upgrade. so now, Zeke lives with me. very good dog. listens quite well. speaks fluent japanese and can solve crossword puzzles like a motherfucker. ok, not really. who was that Saint (this is obviously a question for Joe) that was kind to all the animals? i've come to a conclusion that he must be my patron, because i'm a total animal pussy. even insects. if there's something in the house, barring it won't bite or disfigure me.. i'll go to great links to get it out without killing it. so, i'm standing at the back door letting Zeke out for a morning tee tee, and i see this fucking massive spider inside my house, right next to the door. so i pick up a piece of floor tile and attempt to fling this creature out of the house. unfortunately for him, his little spidy head slammed into the door frame. so then i sorta just scooped him up and threw him outside. while Zeke was out chasing something around, i leaned over him and said "I'm sorry, mr. spider. i didn't mean to kill you...". i think the neighbor behind my house saw me talking to the ground. i'm sure he already has some reservations about me. i was in my undies while all this was going on and i'm sure i looked like some sort of nutjob. oh well. what's he gonna do? this morning before i went to work, Saved By The Bell was on. it was one of those ones with Miss Bliss and those other kids that mysteriously dissappeared after the first season. Really... what happened to them? did Mr. Belding kill them? did Screech slaughter them to wear their flesh like Buffalo Bill in Silence Of The Lambs? NOW THAT would make for some good Saturday morning tv. Silence Of The Bell? Saved By The Lambs? uh oh. looks like it's time to be up and out. there's some kid huffing gasoline in my bushes. quick Zeke! GET HIM!

more to come...

you know, i'm tired of going on some musician myspace blogs, every now and then glancing across lyrics and seeing all this cryptic, whiny crap that can be seen in almost every sense except for the obvious... the fact that they make no sense. ok, look. don't get me wrong. you can take what you will from them, sometimes walking away connecting in your own way - or being like me and calling them on the bullshit that they are. i mean, it pisses me off when i see something that could literally be written in minutes, but being pushed as this deep ass thought. something like "you don't understand what you did to me. the keys were on the table. my heart was on the table. you left it there..." really. whatever... there's a lot of musicians that do this and pass it off as a deep, meaningful message. Many of them become grossly famous. Like Oasis' "Wonderwall". 'and after all.... you're my wonderwall...". WHAT THE FUCK IS A WONDERWALL? if you ask Liam or Noel, they'll ramble on about some sort of deep hidden meaning, blah blah blah. I just think they threw some shit together that rhymed. My girlfriend is a huuuuuge Tori Amos fan. so we'll be driving around in her car and she'll have it on, nothing out of the ordinary. Eventually I'll look over at her, and the following conversation takes place: Me: "Ok, WHAT is this song about?" Aimee: "Well, it's about this sad... um... this thing that like... like... it's, uh.. just a sad song..." Me: "Ok, i get that. But what is she talking about here. What happened to her to make her write this song?" Aimee: "well... it's just.. like... I DON'T KNOW, SAM. CAN YOU PLEASE STOP ASKING SO MANY FUCKING QUESTIONS? What does the Beastie Boys write about? What does the Pixies write about?" Me:"hmmm... well, pre-1998 Beastie Boys is about getting fucked up, shoes, headphones, microphones, elephant tranquilizer, the ladies, booties, things of that nature. The Pixies write about water, animals, and planets of sound." I eventually saw her point. but it still didn't satisfy me. writing lyrics is hard, and when you sit down and just write whatever pops into your head, somebody needs to call you on it. i suppose i'm rallying against the emotioinally charged horseshit i run across on this website daily, but pretty please... with sugar on top... write lyrics that make sense.

Ugly or Pretty, It's Still My City..

i was just sitting here reading blogs from friends that have moved away to various parts of the country. it always kind of makes me kinda sad. i don't know what its like to move away. i've only known one city and its always safe to say that when i'm away from it for too long, i miss it more than anything. before too long, a week in Las Vegas = me missing home, a week in Florida = me missing home. some places make me miss home even faster. i've spent 1 night in my life in Salt Lake City on a plane layover and i felt like i was just outside the outskirts of hell.

i remember when i was at LSU, there were so many people that were like "Oh my God. I cannot WAIT to leave Baton Rouge!!!". when i think back to that time, it reminds me of the lyrics of the Hot Hot Heat's 'Get In Or Get Out':

He never thought that he would leave so soon. Passed out in May, but then woke up June hanging over July.
Security! Security! Beware: the cost of living is a one way fare.
I'm pulling the alarm, so get in or get out.

His polyester sticks out in the crowd. It's true, there is such a thing as too loud -but I won't let him know.
White lipstick smeared upon my bathroom mirror. He stuck me with the bill -but I don't care.

Ugly or pretty, it's still my city. Make up your mind and get in or get out!
Say what you will, but get in or get out!

We never thought that he would leave this town.
We always that he would hang around getting old with the rest.
Jean jackets folded on his closet shelf. The weather begs for leather coats... Ah well.

uh oh. all HELL is breaking loose!

the other day, my buddy mac was talking about God knows what and he happened on a saying i started thinking a little too much about. he was like "Sam, if you do (whatever he was talking about - i forgot), then all hell is gonna break loose...". so i was like "ok... hell is gonna break loose... break loose from what though? what is hell gonna break loose from? more hell? like, big hellish chains or something?" his silence said it all. i'm gonna go pass out in that corner over there. BYE!