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:: 7.19.2001 ::

(listening to: Kings of Convenience: Kings of Convenience)

Stayed out in the city last night after practice to entertain some lovely friends of ours down from Portland. Did a small Mission bar-crawl, had a High-Life at Doc's and got some great booth action at the Latin American. I couldn't have asked for better company.

By the time we got to the bro bar, the offical X-Games sleaze-palace where the punk kids bring their nasty dogs and Parliaments are smoked in excess, I was pretty tired. Being the sober driver in a fun group has never been what I liked the most, and I was ready to call it a night and head home. After a bit of chatting, I noticed an old friend sitting at the bar playing those video trivia games. I saw her type in "KISS MY ARSSE" really big and miss an answer. She looked really pathetic, a fallen friend who failed to secure some sense of having a life, and instead propped herself at the end of the bar, waiting for someone to see. Maybe she saw me and hoped I would say hello. I didn't. I don't know why.

I walked out when the live sex act started, some guy in a mesh baseball hat all over this tiny, tiny punk rock girl. His hand was up her shirt and he was biting her neck all over while leaning on the pool table. Not my scene, so we took off and walked down Valencia at 1:45 AM, huddling in the misty fog, discussing the science of bros and hotties. We found the little Volvo and cruised home under the bridge, no problems, asleep at three in the morning, up at seven. Feeling nicely isolated in my place at work. Feeling good. Feeling accomplished.


(10:00 AM) :: (link)


:: 7.17.2001 ::

(listening to: Gorillaz: Gorillaz)

I ain't happy
I'm feeling glad
I got sunshine, in a bag
I'm useless but
Not for long
The future, is coming on

Clint Eastwood is the perfect theme song for mornings when I feel like I could take over the world.


(10:50 AM) :: (link)


:: 7.15.2001 ::

(listening to: Air: Moon Safari)

MP3 of the week: The singer in my old band was really into Eitzel. I mean, *really* in to Eitzel. Then again, when he liked something, he *really* liked it. One evening he took me to see him play at San Francisco's Make-Out Room. We arrived early and decided to go up the street for a drink before the show, as I turned around, I plowed smack-dab into a bald guy in a funny hat. "Oops, sorry about that" I said as I headed down the street. The guy kinda glared at me, but looked out of it anyway and continued into the club. My friend turned to me and said "Man, you just almost knocked over Mark Eitzel." Oops.

His newest album, The Invisible Man, is an experience in well, what *could* have been. Instead of continuing with his incredibly talent band (the one heard in this track), he decided to do all the recording at home, alone. The result is a collection of wonderful songs, done in an almost cheesey top 40 style with beats and sparse guitar. It's a good record, but it's not a fair representation of those songs. Anyone who saw him play those songs live with a real band (not that DJ stuff) will probably agree. On his last tour, he began selling a CD of demos, done with that incredible band. This is the album that should have been. Charm School is from that demo. Wow.


(3:53 PM) :: (link)