12.03. 08
I have had some interviews - the prospect is quite terrifying in its own regard - luckily they are all via email and not live, which would be TERRIBLE. Anyway, my old friend Roger with the smooth zine strange | beautiful interviewed me in a classy way: he is a very patient man AND a kickass designer. I feel honored to be recognized by such a zine. Also there is my thing with Nilina at wweek (that pic seems to be making the rounds). She seems to have taken the picture of EVERYONE COOL somehow. I envy her. Then there is this by Chuck at spraygraphic.com - check that place out, full of talent. Ummm.. that may be it. Tooting over.
Filed by snow at December 3rd, 2008 under like, music
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10.19. 08
Filed by snow at October 19th, 2008 under like, whatever
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10.13. 08
Filed by snow at October 13th, 2008 under like, music
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09.27. 08
it is hot - could be hotter here in AZ. that is my story. the end.
Filed by snow at September 27th, 2008 under like, whatever
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08.28. 08
From the days when bass players needed fuzz and distortion. Best $99 I’ve spent in days.
Filed by snow at August 28th, 2008 under like, music
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07.23. 08
Why old folks always have their mouths open at half mast? Well of course not all of them - but enough to notice. Now that I think about it, it seems like it’s an arcane enough question and that I did know the answer at one time. Some about elasticity and atrophy in a group of muscles around the jaw and upper face. We are born with all the elasticity we are ever going to have up there apparently. Then one day you just cannot shut the front door to your face. I suppose what is more curious is whether or not they notice the door is indeed ajar. Maybe they just don’t give a fuck. They feel entitled to wave their gums around like wet shovels. I know I am spending a lot of time on this digression, but it would not hit so close to home if I didn’t always feel like sticking my fingers in their mouths like the big, desiccated babies they look like. Pretty weird.
Filed by snow at July 23rd, 2008 under like, shite
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07.20. 08
How to keep your girlfriend happy …
Click here
But god plotted, and of plotters is god the best.the thyself,
o king, from all fears that arise from had spoken of me
as a rising man, and his clever are even, like objects that
one acquires in one’s reproduction seemed to be going on
whilst one and labor are daily bringing them to light. The
all the linga or subtile forms or existents which the superintendent
smiled. That’s the way we feel ogilvie I think miss white
has got into your answered: no in leominster, which is not
far distant. Son then, o king, with karna, o sire, answered
clouds that fill a lake with torrents of rain you can be
ready to move in a few minutes now practising concentration
of mind, the learned over thy eldest son yadu born of devayani,
and,.
Filed by snow at July 20th, 2008 under like, shite
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07.19. 08
Was the content of a spam email I received today.
Today on my ride up to a new coffee shop for me, which according to google maps is a quick 4.7 miles away from the house and home, but does not take into account freeways, hills, courts, roundabouts, construction, dehydration, low blood sugar, ant attack, yard sales, not writing down directions, vague recollections of shortcuts, more ant attack, poaching, knee pain, more hills, sunburn, etc. Luckily thats pretty typical.
For the first time today I could have sworn I smelled a change in the season, but I am pretty sure that is wishful thinking, There was a time when I was more in tune with the passing of the seasons, as one needs well to be when your very existence periled by the whims of winter and poor infrastructure. Here, this is an easy life. No wood to stack, no storm windows to batten down, no collecting of vagabond lawn chairs and burrowed hoses at fall. Here is just is wet. There it is just a giant white hand crushing into the ground, for months upon months. But there is a certain anticipation of being trapped by weather, an inclement weather day - having all your plans grounded by a sudden attack of 12 inches of snow that flattens and envelopes everything in sight - and the silence. There is no other silence. I smelled it today. Perhaps it is months away still but I held it in my nose for the briefest of seconds - it flicked across my face and was gone.
Filed by snow at July 19th, 2008 under like, shite
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