//oakland, calif.
//age 33
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//the daily photos

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:: 10.31.2002 ::

(listening to: Do Make Say Think: & Yet & Yet)

[all my friends are gone and I don't have designer clothes] :: I forgot today was Halloween until I was halfway to work and there was a fellow walking down the street in a full gorilla costume. At first I was alarmed until Miss Rodeo America reminded me what day it was.

So we're having a party at work, and I didn't bring anything to eat and I have no costume. To punish me, everyone is trying to get me to wear this set of pink pajamas with little bunny slippers that someone brought with them. Now I'm scared.

Congratulations to my good friends and Mike and Alison on the birth of their daughter, Hazel. Time to up that population of Oakland sign by one! Babies are so damned cute.

(12:14 PM) :: (link)

:: 10.29.2002 ::

(listening to: Steve Earle: Jerusalem)

[i'm a predictable indie rock record snob except that i have better taste] :: It's almost November, which means my Top 10 of 2002 list is beginning to take form. This year is different, because I've actually kept track of all the new releases I've picked up in the last 10 months. As of last night, the list has reached 38 albums. Five of those are going on the list for sure, so that leaves me with 33 records and 5 slots left. It's going to be tough to decide. I wish my list was like The Bachelor where I could go out on dates with all of the bands and ask them about their new records and make them wear revealing clothing while they kiss my ass.

I'm not technologicaly savvy by any stretch of the imagination, but I'm thinking about moving this over to Moveable Type by December.

Tonight I'm heading on over to the as-yet-unnamed Amscray practice space to do some more four-tracking even though my throat feels like it's coated in toxic goo.

(3:57 PM) :: (link)

:: 10.28.2002 ::

(listening to: Sweep The Leg Johnny: Going Down Swinging)

Riot! Riot!...oh wait, no.

[it's hockey season anyway B/W you've got to know when to hold 'em] :: So, on Saturday night we endured 5 hours of barstool sitting and orange colored snack snacking to watch the entire game 6 of the World Series. In the 7th inning, everyone was all excited, chatting happily and hatching plans for after the Giants won and the city went crazy. We were first going to loot the gun shop next door, then shoot up the abandoned Taco Bell across the street before we tipped over cop cars and jumped up and down on top of them screaming "We're Number One! We're Number One!" We were pumping our fists, ready to destroy.

Then in the bottom of the 7th, the Giants started to suck, and suck they did through Sunday. No riot in the streets of 'Frisco this time around. Damned disappointment. I bet the city (if you can call it a city) of Anaheim is going to erect a huge monkey statue downtown (wait, they don't have a downtown), er, by the 405 freeway. They're tacky like that.

But it's OK, 'cause we played us some poker last night at a friends house using *real* money. Both Miss Rodeo America and I were cleaning up for awhile there, she wore her Kenny Rogers brand western shirt for good luck and it seemed to be working. Then we played this game called "Balls" and the pot got huge, and we lost it all. Now I'm going to have to pawn the cats for food!

(10:09 AM) :: (link)