Memorobilia

Published December 2, 2008 Life , Personal , Uncategorized 0 Comments
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Well, tonight won’t be an all nighter at least. My wife should be home in about 45 minutes and I’ve completely wasted the day away sitting at the computer picking my nose. Well, it wasn’t entirely wasted. I did get some housework done and I fed the little beasties that share the apartment with us. Still, I don’t feel like I accomplished much especially in light of the fact that today was the day I was supposed to start writing on a ‘zine. Now I’m doubting it will ever get done. I just sat here agonizing over words for a half an hour and pretty much shelved the whole idea.

I could have gone out and walked around but its cold and I already know there’s not much out there anyways. Someday soon I’ll grab the camera and head up to Scranton. There’s not much there either, but that never stopped me from spending rolls of film there before. But that was back when I had a camera that took film. My trusty Pentax K-1000 I bought for forty bucks at a pawn shop sometime around 96 or 7. I miss that camera. Used to take it to Philly when I’d go and cop heroin, snapping pictures of really bad neighborhoods on the sly. Once we were out getting high near RFK park and I went and took pictures of the skate rats raging the halfpipe at that skate park there. Never got those ones developed before I went to prison unfortunately.

Life without numbing myself sure is different. I don’t know that I accomplish a whole lot more in the grand scheme of things, but at least I’m not causing as much damage. I don’t really miss it much though, not the highs, certainly not the being sicks, but that there was a drive-a centering point around which my activities revolved…that I kind of miss. Junkies can always be counted on to not have spare time and now I have it in spades. All the time in the world to don the retrospectacles and sift through the dusty old box in my dusty assed brain looking at fading photographs.

At least I don’t think of prison much. It’s there, in some ways still looming until I get off of parole, But it’s kind of like being a kid in the 80’s and you sort of think nuclear armageddon, but then not really so much. I can still smell the chemicals I used to clean the showers with in the joint, and my venacular is still spattered with the way I fucking talked in there. Plus too I still have a mile wide atheistic streak from being there, a place God most certainly never was. And there’s the bitter reminder when I see some piece of filth child molester getting sentenced on tv to less time than I got for trying to rob someone. But overall, none of it fucks with me terribly. I just go on, cataloging my other regrets picture by mental picture.

Then my wife will come home or the kids will be here and I realize that I’m living the best part of my life right here and right now. That it did get better, much much better when I got out of prison and since I haven’t gotten wasted in a very long time. I wouldn’t have believed it, and even now it still seems surreal at times. So I put the dusty old box aside and focus on the present, boring as it sometimes may be, and let the ghosts spook themselvs.

Slumpage

Published November 30, 2008 Uncategorized 0 Comments

I was just breezing through my archives and I realized that I’m in a slump. I seemed to have more to say some months back, and I guess this is reflected in the downturn of my stats as of late too. I don’t know, I’ve considered finding a new hobby recently anyways.

Guilty Pleasure?

Published November 30, 2008 Music 0 Comments
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So there it was. The supposedly long awaited album by a formerly famous rock band. I felt a bit like I do when I rubberneck a car accident scene, but I got it. And I’m listening to it now. And it sucks, really, really hard. Ten years in the making and its not even worth listening to.

Gah. I had to load up some Butthole Surfers to clear my ears of that garbage. And to think, for a short time in the late 1980’s that rock band who’s new album totally blows was my number one guilty listening pleasure-undoubtedly due to the high volume of keggers I went to where their first album was garaunteed to be blaring out of somebodys car stereo all damn night. Then they put out an ep with a song everybody and their dog learned to play on acoustic guitar, cause basically chix dug it, and after that a big double album which was nominally forgettable though at that time they were the biggest arena draw on the planet besides maybe Billy Graham. But then everybody left the band except for the douchebag singer, so I shouldn’t have expected anything of merit coming from a band with one original member. Wait, thats not true. I think the Accused have one original member and they still tear it up. But then again, the Accused are now and always have been superior to this particular rock band I’m writing about.

Its just too bad because they used to have some good songs that will always remind me of a certain period of time between like 87 and 89. I wish I could say this new album was memorable, but I’d rather forget it altogether.

Aethereal Nocturne

Published November 29, 2008 Life , Personal 1 Comment
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Approaching midnight, outside its so still and quiet it’s almost post apocalyptic. In here I’m crouched over the keyboard like a gargoyle on the edge of a building. It’s fucking cold out there and it’ll be even colder by the time I trek up to see Dee at work in a couple of hours.

One of the cats just fell off of his perch at the back of the couch. It was funny, like a drunk falling off a barstool funny. Our cats are a good source of Schadenfreude, they’re always having falls and blunders. Not as amusing as a clown slipping on a banana peel and getting run over by a bus, but in the same vein of amusement.

Fucking coffee is the most amazing thing. I was just sitting here waiting for a fat cup of java to brew feeling tremendously uninspired. But its like as soon as I could hear the coffee machine blurglling and could smell the pissy goodness of it brewing I was all “FUCK YEAH!”. A phenomena not too far removed from when I used to partake in illicit narcotics and my guts would start to stir like mad as soon as I’d get within six blocks of where I used to cop. Addiction is addiction I guess. And though coffee has never got me in any trouble, especially compared to the other crap I used to indulge in, I do know that it’s not quite completely harmless. Met an old timer the other night who had a quintiple bypass and his doctor told him if he kept up drinking 8-12 cups of coffee per day it would be the end of him. But goddam, I figure by the time I get up there in age I’ll be so full of piss and vinegar I won’t even need coffee to be high strung. Either that or I’ll be so mellow I won’t even want to drink it. The latter is more probable, as I’ve gone so damn mild in the last ten years I can’t imagine what it’ll be like in 20 or 30 more.

Fuck, I dunno. I’m only thirty six and I don the retrospectacles now and then only to marvel that I made it this far being as how fucking window licking stupid I was when I was younger. Y’know, they say “oh, well everybody gains life experiences from their mistakes” and whatever…but I just did some really dumb shit. I don’t feel a whole lot smarter or stronger from having done it, in fact the only benefit I guess I reaped is now I can look back and be like “Yo, you was a dumb motherfucker”, knowing-or at least believing-that since I can say that it means I’m not quite the fool I was. Which, I guess does mean I’ve learnt me something after all.

But it’s hard, I mean I look back and I can be so hard on myself because I don’t want to make the same stupid mistakes over again…but then when it comes to other people doing the same stupid shit I did ten or twenty years ago I have a difficult time being sympathetic. This was more true when it came to living in that building chock full of practicing drug addicts in Erie, as I don’t even know but a couple of people here. But still, just with dope users in general I don’t have a lot of sympathy. In fact, I can be pretty fucking judgemental sometimes. And I feel like a dick about that. I mean, you think ex-smokers are bad, ex-dope fiends are far worse. But I start thinking that I can get away with it because I’m only all high and mighty when it comes to people who are getting fucked up and not trying to get better via abstaining or going on some kind of maintenance program. Which is still fucked up for me to do. I mean, Jeezus, these are people not categories. I just shouldn’t be hating on people in general.

So it’s something I’m working on. The whole trying to be more empathetic and not such a judgemental prick thing. After all, one could say but for circumstances there go I. And of course though I like to blame my bad decisions on a surplus of stupidity on my part, the fact is there were also plenty of circumstances involved.

My lovely wife told me I wasn’t always so judgemental, and I think it’s just a personality glitch I picked up in prison that stuck around. I really don’t know what I’d do without her, whenever I get to giving myself liscence to be an asshole she’s there to remind me that liscence expired long ago.

Inna-gadda-da-Duryea-baby

Published November 26, 2008 Duryea , Life , Personal 0 Comments
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Well, I did say I was going to go out and take pictures near the new FullmetalHQ. Finally I remembered my camera, however it was dusk by the time I set out to purchase kitty litter but I did manage to snap a few photos on the way. I should maybe have taken more photos of the nearby burned down building, it was awful cool looking in it’s devastationitude. But these photos are all from Main street and the road by the railroad tracks that leads to a big supermarket and dollar store down the way.

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Milo gets a pal…

Published November 26, 2008 Life , Personal , cats 2 Comments
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So our cat Milo seemed to be in need of another cat to play with. Well, we went and got one. Problem is they don’t get along at all. The new kitten, Iggy, is only a couple of weeks younger than Milo but they haven’t taken to each other one bit. Hopefully things will calm down and they’ll get used to each other so they can be a couple of happy cats.

At any rate, here’s a photo of Iggy. He really is a beautiful kitten. Maybe it’s just that Milo is jealous and he thinks we won’t pay attention to him now.

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Are they coming to take me away?

Published November 25, 2008 Life , Personal , parole 0 Comments
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There comes a point with me where something or a number of things are going extremely well…and I always feel like everything is going to come crashing down upon my head. I’ve been waiting for that to happen with my current situation, not anything I would do to sabotage things and not anything between Dee and I, but something external-like for example the parole board suddenly wanting to act like a bunch of dicks. Actually thats exactly it.

The other night I was telling my wife how I can’t wait to be finished with parole in June. She said why, you’re not suddenly going to be a different person or act differently. I agreed, I mean if I wanted to be a raging motherfucker or party animal I could do it and get away with it parole or not. It’s fairly bog standard for parolees to continue getting fucked up when they’re on paper. Sometimes they get caught, many times not. But thats not even the issue for me. I’m perfectly alright with being abstinent now and for the forseeable future. As I think I’ve said before I’ve developed some control issues over the past decade that lead me to cherish the, perhaps quaint, idea of being in control of my faculties all the fucking time. I gave the drink and such one last go a couple of years ago and the shit really didn’t work out well for me. It all made me feel like a booger eating moron, so that was the end of my beta testing that crap. So it isn’t that I’m planning on being able to act differently once my parole tail expires. Really, the thing for me is that I will no longer have that creeping, entirely irrational fear that The Men With Guns are going to show up at my doorstep and drag me back to prison.

The funny thing is I once even told my parole officer about this neurotic glitch of mine. She then told me that she’d encountered other parolees who had a similar fear. Except all of them were doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing and were worried about getting caught. Needles to say I wasn’t doing anything, and that also turned out to be the last time I ever even came close to mentioning anything like that to her.

But it’s not like some kind of crippling fear. Nowadays I rarely think about it at all except when things are going really really well and I’m starting to feel secure in my life situation. I mean, it’s like all the shit me and my wife had to go through to get moved out here, it seems like it would just figure that there was some kind of paperwork mistake at the parole office which would wind up totally fucking everything up.

I’ve been accused of being a cynical pessimist before, and I think that’s what may be driving all of this. Fact is though, I can’t fucking wait until I’m done with parole so I don’t have to even think of this shit anymore.

Witty Header Goes Here.

Published November 24, 2008 Uncategorized 0 Comments

Sitting back smoking rollies that taste like dirt and listening to the new Discharge album. Fucking dark outside as another grey day has come to an end.

Laptop is in the shop getting the keyboard cleaned after an accidental bath in orange drink. I would have tried to address the problem myself, but I didn’t want to risk screwing something up and having my wife murder me. Luckily theres a computer shop right up the street. I do have a big computer project this winter though. Someone is supposed to be giving us an old computer which I hope to rig up as a home file server. I have utterly no idea what I’m doing, but I’ve found some websites with how-to’s so I figure maybe I’ll be able to do it. I mean, a home file server for us is about as useful as tits on a bull but, y’know, a doodz gotta have his projects.

Fuck, that Discharge album, Disensitize, tears shit up. Ages ago these guys laid the blueprint for metallic hardcore punk and decades later they still deliver full throttle. Fuck fucken YEAH. This is one of those albums that could have me sounding like a Tourettes besotten Bruce Rohers gushing over an Antiseen release. Which reminds me, I should dash over to maximumrocknroll.com to catch some radio shows and see about getting my sub renewed.

It’s that time again.

Published November 23, 2008 Personal , blogging 0 Comments
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Y’know, it always seems like whenever I don’t post for a day or two I lose my momentum completely and just don’t want to blog anymore. It’s typically a bi-monthly thing for me but I recall going through it just about a month ago prior to moving out here from Erie. Back then I was under a lot of stress with the move and financial problems, but now it’s just more like everything I want to write about I don’t really want to write about here. Which is odd sorta, and it looks like I spoke too soon the other day when I wrote that I don’t need a personal journal since I have this.

So I’m off to go start up on a journal again. Somewhere in one of these boxes we have stored in one of the closets I have my trusty old notebook. If I cant find it I’ll just have to fire up Open Office and type out an entry and stash it in some obscure directory on my computer. I really want to pen it though, I don’t want to write with the luxury of editing on the fly. Ink. I need to lay down some ink.

At any rate, hopefully I’ll get out what I need to get out and I’ll be back to this tomorrow or a week from tomorrow or whatever.

The Midnight Lamp Called. It Wants it’s Oil Back.

Published November 20, 2008 Life , Music , Personal 3 Comments
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Actually it’s not that late yet. But I’ve got an all nighter ahead of me doing some housework and killing time until my wife gets home from work. We just got boob-tube service hooked up yesterday, so I figure I’ll give my aging Celeron a rest and hopefully catch a good flick or two on IFC later on. But first I’ve got a few things to take care of around here since we’re not fabulously rich from me being the third most obscure blogger in the world and able to hire a troupe of trained penguins to clean the house.

Right now I’m listening to a fucking awesome doom/sludge band called Sin of Angels. Sort of in the Electric Wizard vein, kind of reminicent of that monster Erie band Cave. Seriously good shit. Earlier I had like three hours of Nine Inch Nails cued up, but at about the fifty minute mark it started giving me too many 90’s burnt spoon flashbacks so I had to kill it. The Downward Spiral will always be one of those heroin albums for me. I got so fucked up and listened to it over and over so many damn times it’s burned an association into my brain surpassed only by the Velvet Underground’s Live 1968 album. It’s funny how a certain album or certain band can make truly great music that is completely ruined simply by the memories it conjures years later. Not always ruined though, there is a lot of music I like which has absolutely no other merit other than it brings me back to the Good Old Days. And there’s stuff that reminds me of real fucked up times which I purposely listen to because let’s face it, we all need the bad and ugly as well as the good. I guess thats why I keep certain artists in my library, just to headfuck myself once in a while. It’s a good thing really, puts shit in perspective.

At any rate, I haven’t checked lately but I’m guessing my blog is still listed on Erieblogs.com. I’m not going to lie, I have half a mind to go ahead and leave it there. It’s kind of cheating, but most of my traffic-aside from those wonderful sporadic hundreds of visitors from Stumbleupon days-comes from Erieblogs. Still, I think it’s kind of lame to have my blog listed there if I’m living on the other side of the state. So, I’m going to ask to be removed. But if, dear reader, you normally link to this upstanding example of wildly self indulgent hack writing via Erieblogs-do not fear, I have not jumped ship. I’m still here getting assimilated into the cyborg overmind on a more or less daily basis and flailing at my keyboard for your amusement and my catharsis. Really, some months back I finally decided that keeping a personal journal was kind of redundant when I have a blog. Because basically it came down to me always wanting to write shit in my journal that I coul post here anyways. Yet, I digress I guess. Like I said, I’m no longer going to be listed at Erieblogs and until I can find out if there is a Scrantonblogs, and if they’ll have me, I’ll just be here in my little burrow in Eastern Cyberia.

Fuck. Did I mention that Sin of Angels are fucking awesome? For serious, these guys are on New Favorite Band status. And I never thought I’d be saying that about a doom metal band that features a cellist on one of their tracks. This music makes me want to walk in the woods in the middle of the night and commune with the Elder Gods while wearing a caribou skin and one of those badass helmets with horns sticking the fuck out from it.

Then again, this always tends to happen when I drink coffee after 11 pm.

Well, enough of this I’ve got dishes to do and a kitchen floor to scrub. Kind of funny how things always tend to center back on the mundane.

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