(GASP!)

Ah HAHAHAHAHA! HA HA HA HA HA! Oh, phooooew, goodness. Anyway, people are fired UP about it on Wiki, this guy in particular (How dare you treat my treatment that way!):

"I must ask that you desist from stamping your factual inaccuracies on this article. I am happy to work with you to arrive at an accurate and balanced treatment of the topic. But I am not willing to stand by while people deprecate a process which countless people credit for massively improving their health and quality of life."

And then this chick was all, like:

"As a result of this amazing practice, my life has improved tremendously, my experiences are better and better everytime, and that is a fact. People tend to be opinionated because is free and it makes them feel important, but we all know that the facts are what matter, and a fact cannot be changed, where as opinions do all the time. I am a living proof and a living fact, regardless of anything that anybody else may say."

Do facts change? Or do facts not change? Pick one or the other and stick with it, darlin'. The original article has been reported as possibly lacking neutrality.

Whatever. Go get "Real Danger" by The Red River over at Said the Gramophone. It's the second song in the first post. It sounds like today's weather.

The Sods 98, Part Deux

The Sods 98 Part 1

I Igot my scanner.

"Remember a day before today
A day when you were young.
Free to play alone with time
Evening never came.
Sing a song that can't be sung
Without the morning's kiss"-Pink Floyd

Where I Spent The Weekend

I highly recommend this park. It is a fine place to turn thirty.

Happy B-day Tomas!

I thought it was today, or is it tomorrow. . .

this aint Mine, y'know

I just realized no one but me can add links on the side bar. I always wondered why no one added links. The links section here is basically a junkpile at this point, of trades and also a couple that I read (I think I'm the only one that cares anyways). If there is something you want up there or something you find interesting let me know and I'll put it up (And if you want yours taken down just say so). .

Mothers of Good Friday

Trapped Inside the Song

Blurry pics from the Silver Jews concert in Chicago, Friday night . This was the first concert so good it brought tears to my eyes since Nick Cave at Lollapalooza in 1994. Dave only played for an hour, but he packed in nearly 20 songs. For those of you who are true jews, I videotaped parts of the concert-the video is shaky and below average but the sound is great. I intend to share this treasure with you.

A

"Kev. . ."

"Huh?"

"Kev, c'mon, it's time to go, hon. Time to get up."

"Huh. Hmmmmm," I let out a sigh. "What time is it?"

"It's early."

"What time?"

"4:00"

"Can I sleep a little more?" I said with my eyes closed.

"No, we gotta get going."

I sat up, threw my legs over the side of the bed and looked around my empty room and yawned. I scratched my head. I turned on the light. My clothes were folded up on the floor beside my bed and a fresh towel next to them. The sun wasn't up. After I showered and dressed I went into the kitchen. There was no food in the house, no furniture. The place was empty and it reminded me of the day we moved in. Dad walked into the kitchen towing 2 suitcases behind him and asked me to take them to the car but I could only carry one at a time.

"I was having this dream last night. . .right when you woke me up. . ."

"Ok, let's talk about it on the way. Right now we need to load up the car."

"Ok," I said, took the first suitcase out, had Steve help put it in the trunk, and came back for the second one. Dad had picked it up along with my bookbag and took it out. He put my bookbag in the back seat. "What else is there?" I asked.

"Go in and look. I don't think there's much left. Where's your mother?"

"I don't know," I said and Steve and I went back into the house. Mom was standing at the sink with her purse and was putting two orange pill bottles back in it. She picked up a paper cup, filled it with water and threw it back.

"Dad's looking for you," I said and she looked at me for a second and then smiled, bent over, and kissed me on the cheek.

"Are you all ready?" she asked.

"I think so," I said.

"Why don't you guys get in the car, dad can get the rest," she said and Steve and I went back outside to the car.

"Is that everything?" dad asked.

"I don't know, mom said to get in the car," Steve told him as he and I climbed in. Dad looked frustrated and went back inside. Steve reached into his bookbag and pulled out his tape player, put his headphones on, pressed "play", and turned and looked at me. He grinned large enough to show all of his teeth, nodded his head to the music, and closed his eyes as though he was not only on his way to somewhere new, but also somewhere far away from us, smiling as if to say, "Fuck you people, I'm gone already." I punched him in the shoulder just to bring him back for a second and an angry look came over his face mixed with a look of having been turned over to the authorities by a good friend. I was immediately sorry and then he brought me back harder.

Suckin' on a Chili Dog, outside the Tastee Freeze . . .

"I can't go out. I'm bloated. It's exams . . . look at how it makes us eat."