Hurricane WSC

The secret is out. I work in Germantown. It's 'medium' ghetto.

White People
-are few and far between
-lock their car doors when driving through
-don't know the area
-are either old-school, lost, or shady if you find them

Black People
-are everywhere
-drive in excess of speed limits, with little regard for other laws, and efficiently
-know the area
-come in all flavors (crackhead, awesome, hilarious, hooker, drunk, churchy, and regular)


Check, check, check.

No big, I just don't wave around $100 bills at night, I'm nice to the people in the neighborhood, and they're nice to me.

But sometimes I see crazy shit. And I had to write this down in words, though they may do the scenario no justice whatsoever. Here goes....

TIME: 10:15 am
PLACE: Chelten Ave & Sprague St.

...we were loading up the Tahoe for my rout. It was just my dad handing me boxes out our loading window. We're right across the street from Pastorious Elementary and I'm looking alongside the school and there's this guy walking funny.

Usually you see alot of that on Chelten Ave but it wasn't 'cracked out' walking, it was full-blown 'retarded person' walking. I'm talking hands T-Rex'ing up near the chest, kinda tilting his head down and he's just walking real.... weird. Black guy, maybe in his mid-thirties slinking along, almost like 'sneaky retard' walking. And as I'm watching him a mini-van passing by pulls a U-turn right in front of the store and pulls over to the curb directly across the street.

It looked like this lady in the minivan pulled over for the weird dude, but she was on her cell phone talking it up and never looked at the guy. Just waited there for no reason. Again, no big deal--but everything just feels kinda 'connected' and 'not-connected' at the same time.

So I load 2 more boxes into the back of the Tahoe and look up again. The T-Rex Dude is directly behind the minivan so I can't see him in my line of vision. The Minivan Lady is still chatting away totally ignoring the world just pulled over on Chelten Ave. I'm about to look away when--what the?!

T-Rex Dude is sprinting. Full-out retard sprinting. His hands never more than 4-inches from his chest. And as he's running he sorta hunches over--bending only at the waist. He runs towards Sprague and I'm going over the bus stops in my mind figuring out which way the K runs, figure the guy must be running to catch the bus.

Nope.

Mother fucker hugs the wall and doesn't break stride, turns and runs up Sprague St. There's no bus stop up there. At all. Pastorious's schoolyard is up that way. As I'm watching the Minivan Lady slams her phone closed, puts her minivan into drive and turns up Sprague--as if to follow him--but stops. Right in the middle of Sprague. Doesn't pull over to the curb or anything--just stops.

As I'm watching this 'bizarre scenario' unfold two fairly hefty, fairly loud, fairly fun-loving women are walking down our block on Chelten. I can't repeat most of what they were saying. Not even on a blog where I use the word 'fuck'. These 20- to 30-some year old women were laughing and discussing their sex-life so loud I think my deaf grandmother who died 10 years ago was blushing.

About 10 feet before they passed by us one of them said something particularly loud about the male genitalia they'd recently come into contact with and they both broke into raucous laughter. The one smacked the other on the ass, the one yelled 'you mother fucka!!!' chasing after her and they both went flying by me. If I hadn't moved I may have been stampeded. I may not be able to blog today. I really felt the wind rush by. It was like they didn't see me or my dad at all. I'm just glad they didn't run into the Tahoe. The SUV's about 7 years old and probably wouldn't have survived the encounter.

By the time Bertha and Shaqueefa rumbled by, the Minivan on Sprague on the other side of Chelten still hadn't moved and now there were cars trying to turn up the street behind her. 3 cars or so lined up and began honking at the Minivan Lady. Finally she revved her engine and took off out of sight.

At this point I can't explain the past 2 minutes and I'm kind of staring at everything in shock. It's like a scene from Final Destination. All these little 'marbles' keep rolling around setting off a series of events -- small, disjointed and confusing but somehow connected. I'm kind of zoning out and my dad is off looking around not moving or saying anything either.

Then this shade-ball black guy with his hoodie on tight comes walking by and he's giving that 'anxious eye' you have to look out for, so we load a couple more boxes and he walks right between us and there's that really awkward, really 'both sides on guard' thing going on where no one talks and all eyes lock and then look away.

Again these don't sound like alot but they just had this 'charged' thing going on. Like you feel like 'it' is about to happen. Only you don't know what 'it' is. Like Deja Vu sorta I guess....usually only lasts a few seconds, maybe a minute and I figure it's passed until--

--she appears.

I still don't know if she was white or black.
I still don't really know 100% if it was a woman.
I don't know where the fuck she came from.

I guess it was a homeless lady. I say I guess because it was hard to tell under all the clown make-up.

Like full-blown blue around the eyes. Full-blown bright red lipstick all around her mouth. Full-blown weird pasty white coloring. She was just in the middle of the street, kinda dragging her feet towards A&E. Me and my dad stared at her for almost a full minute, occasionally moving a box, so it looked like we weren't. But we didn't talk to each other. We couldn't talk.

I've seen lots of homeless, vagrants, crackheads, and even some loonies from around the corner -- but this was some new breed of strange.

She made no sound and kinda dragged her feet, looking off in the distance very somber and sad-like. Just like a god damned Sad-Face Clown you see in the Circus. Well she's shuffling closer and closer and I have 2 overwhelming thoughts:

1. Something bad is about to happen (I've seen It, mother-fucker!)
2. How can I use my camera phone w out her noticing?

She's gets closer and I see her feet. Socks with real big goofy sandals. Not over-sized like a clown, but not regular sandals. And she's wearing one big khaki colored jumpsuit that looks pretty stained and old and is covered with buttons and patches I can't really read. She's a few feet away now and I can't figure out why she came as close as she did. Our truck is backed up to the building. She was across the street. If she wants to get by she's going out of her way to come past us to do it. She's walking closer and everyone has stopped moving.

Stab me?
Ask for change?
Honk her nose?
Turn into a monster?
Perform fellatio on me?

This insanity of the past 5 minutes has reached it's crescendo (an excellent Dark Tranquility song). Every instrument is wrought with tension. Everything I know about what should happen on Chelten Ave on a Tuesday morning is out the window. This isn't Germantown anymore. For all I know this isn't reality anymore.

She's like 2 feet away from me now--like way in my personal space bubble. She looks up at me without really focusing her eyes, looks at my dad. Everything goes deathly quiet.


1 whole second goes by.
Nothing.

She lowers her head and sorta drags her feet, back on her merry-ish way. I still can't even talk. Our heads just watch as she walks down Chelten and fades away. I turn to my dad and we both mae the "are you serious face" and start laughing because, let's face it -- what else can you do?

Everything feels 'back to normal' too. It's like none of it ever happened and I talked with my dad about it and I tried to explain it to my mom and I just tried to explain it in this blog but it was just so.... weird. It was all the little things I maybe didn't explain the right way that made it all the weirder. Little miscues. Like a dog barking and then suddenly silence. The timing of the running T-Rex-Tard. The look in that crackhead's eye. Maybe the wind blowing and then suddenly not. Voices carrying on the wind. Weird stuff. It all just swirled together to form this perfect 'weird storm'.

And somehow it was all tied to that crazy, homeless, weirdly out-of-place Sad Clown Lady. As if it were Hurricane Weird-Sad-Clown (WSC) and somehow she was the 'eye' of the storm.

And that's still the thing about it that bothers me the most.

Where did she come from?

I was outside the whole time she was getting closer, right? You don't just 'not see' that until it's right up on you, right? And I was definitely doing alot of left-to-right of my surroundings considering all the other stuff going on for a few minutes there.

I don't know. All I know is I survived Hurricane WSC. It came and it went and every hair on the back of my nexk stood on end and everything seemed just 'something askew'. But I'm fine. I think I just might make it.

Where was she going? Where was she from? What actually happened that day?
We'll never know.

I'd like to think "to spread the work of Satan", "Hell", and "interdimensional riffing". Respectively.


















picture this. but more like dee reynolds' psycho clown. but also more like homeless.

i forgot i had a blog.

i forgot i had a blog.

What's the 9-1-1?

9/11

A Day Forever to Remember...Forever
...or something.

I forget.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not an anti-9/11 remembering-er, or a freedom hater, or a French-fried faggot! I just don't remember if it's called 'A Day in Infamy', 'A Tragedy of Forever Eternally', or 'The Greatest Show on Earth!'. (I doubt the last one)

I just don't have any strong attachments to NY, to the WTC, or to the USA in particular.

And again, I'm all for candles, and FOX specials, and patches on sports jerseys, and anti-terrorist bumper stickers, and people remembering their deceased friends and relatives. It's all good in my book. I just can't pretend it means more to me personally.

It didn't really affect my life in an unalterable way. I don't know anyone who was hurt by it directly. I don't know anyone who died that day. I don't even know anyone who directly knows someone who died that day. I'm sure if I did this blog would be called Liquid Molten 9/11 and I'd have more brightly colored pictures, more stories about how I really really really hate terrorists, more colorful language, and fancy red, white, and blue trim on the borders of the page. But I don't. And I won't.



****************
Sept. 11, 2001
LaSalle College HS


Me and Mike Dougherty meet after homeroom in the caff
1st period FREE and 2nd period FREE.
We're bored and walk to 7-11.
In 7-11, on a TV, they show the first plane crash into the WTC.
7-11 Pretzels are so hot and so doughy and so good.
I turn to M-Doc "Stupid Italians"
I really believe the World Trade Center is in Italy
We get back to school an hour later & everyone is going nuts.
TV's on everywhere.
Faculty, students, everyone quiet. Just watching.
Second plane crash couldn't be a mistake. US is under attack.
Oh shit, I think the WTC is in New York.
It is.
Rest of day is spent talking and watching news.
At home I get a call from a Meghan.
Meghan who?
It's not Meghan O'Neil from up the street (my current GF!)
It's Meghan 'Horse-Sex' Mayers from work (Freddy Hill)
She loves horses. Like alot.
She stares up at Thunderstorms laying on her front lawn w goggles.
That's not normal.
I'm not really friends w her -- but I know she likes me.
She just wants to know if I'm ok.
I, and everyone I know, is ok. I mess w her a little.
I say 'Oh, yea, didn't some plane crash or something'
She tells me the news.
I say 'I better go so no planes crash into Lansdale'
Hang out w some friends.
Talk about how crazy the whole thing is.
Go home. Go to bed.
Possibly inebriated.
Talk about it on the news and in school alot.
That's it.
******************















(I typed 'anti-terrorism' into google images and got this: segway + soldier = awesome.)



And that's how 9/11 was to me. And I understand it was hell on earth to some people, but I'm not gonna pretend to be one of them. It was whatev. Terrorists are gay. Tragedies happen all over the place I feel bad for. NY is the hometown of the NY Giants.

All a bunch of facts. All whatevs. I actually feel the worst for Horse Sex. She was a nice enough girl, just more into lightning storms and horses than I was. And I totally would dropkick a terrorist for attacking the US and all if I saw him, but there aren't many here in L-Dale.

I think that's my problem. I need more terrorist attacks here to really 'get into it'. I mean, for it to really hit home, ya know?

Let's just see those faggots just try and torch a Holstein cow at Freddy Hill. You'll get your come-uppins shithead. Wanna set yourself up w explosives and go to the cheap Gulf station everyone goes to at Valley Forge and Allentown and suicide bomb there? Fuck you, asshole! This is America! Maybe try and fly a plane into The Bowling Alley on Main st? I don't fucking think so. You mess w one patron at the Montgommery Mall and you mess w all of us you towel-wearing bitch.

Cause these colors don't run, terrorist dick-hole. I'll go so far as to call a Jihad on your Jihad. I got your 47 Virgins buddy-- and they're all 35 year-old hentai-loving dudes who live in their mom's basements. I'll call you a coward to your face and piss on a picture of your leader Osama in my urinal. This is Lansdale dickcheese, and we will fuck your terrorist ass into the next millenium.

Too Good Too Post

Things I've been doing instead of posting stupid, retarded blogs on the even stupider, more retarded internet.

-flying over Russia in a manual (not electric) helicopter
-sharing hash with the pope
-wake-boarding along the schuykill river
-dropkicking a termite
-dividing by zero
-listening to the new porcupine tree CD
-engineering soap that wont burn your eyes
-recording music backwards.
-setting up a trust fund for the clintons
-eating liquid nitrogen
-working on my slapshot
-watching hockey youtube videos
-making love to my girlfriend... from another continent
-chewing bubblicious gum
-listening to celine dieon and crying at night
-getting a 'cole hamels' haircut
-wanting to play more drums
-staring directly into the sun for 6 days... and 3 nights
-writing children's books in human blood
-smoking 4 joints at night and driving a schoolbus full of children
-trying to do fantasy football
-trying not to get arrested
-defeating robots at chess
-smiling at the end of green mile
-thinking about skynet
-smoking cigars and thinking about life
-getting my 'freak' on
-teaching dolphins to fly in reverse
-melting ice cubes with my mind
-watching inglorious basterds last night
-shaking my own hand -- using only my right hand
-laying down the funk






















so as you can see, i may never be on the internet to post again.
i'm busy as fuck.

Evil-ution: Story of Dudes

So I was thinking about evolution the other day. (What? You don't?)

Legit, though--

I was thinking of evolution, possibly because I'm weird, whatever. But I was trying to figure out how we're the top of the chain. Because, let's face it, obviously we are. Right? And obviously we'd know when another species came to fruition and populated the earth if it was superior. Right? And when it comes it'll obviously be a bulbous-headed, 4-finger, (I mean, who uses the pinky. Just look at my hand), super-intelligent future-beast. Right?


No fucking clue.























I mean, it seems like the obvious choice, What separates us from the other living animals? It's that big, sexy brain. The mind. The thinker. The zombie app. (fuck the opposable thumbs and fuck speech and fuck DNA)

So intelligence is good. It's complex, it drives us to create, imagine, develop, survive. Intelligence has got us where we are, will get us farther and farther along, and if evolution works the way it's supposed to:

--intelligent people will have more success than morons
--they'll have better survival rate
--thus a better chance to mate and pass on 'intelligent' genes
--the human species will grow more intelligent

Well, according to The Flynn Effect, this is exactly the case. IQ has been studied in various countries and, on average, society gains 3 IQ points per decade. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flynn_effect (wikipedia can't lie) Cool.

And intelligence is really useful, right?
Yea, actually, it is.

Intelligence is what gives us the ability to manipulate the world around us. Intelligence gives us 'tools' (and not the guys in popped collars kind.) Intelligence delivers us from harm. It bestows on us comfort. It grants us riches.

It protects our possessions, our livestock, our families.
It builds our monuments, our shelters, our factories.
It cures our illnesses, our handicaps, our thirst for more.

So intelligence is definitely on the up?
Bingo.
Intelligence is definitely a good thing?
Yup.
And intelligence will provide a beautiful future?
Wrong.

--We're all dead.



You know how I know? Cause I'm a dude.

You only need to know 2 things for my theory:
-dudes are dudes
-intelligent people create bigass weapons


That same intelligence and complex thinking that's created some great inventions, cures for diseases and the likes of central AC are no different than the minds that created nuclear bombs, biological weapons, and the DMV.


















Men will still fight. Still battle. Still call on revenge. Still assert dominance. It's just what we do. It's only a matter of time before 'our weapons' are on a bigger scale than 'our environment'. And that's not hippie, "peace, not war bro, for WW3" talk either. It just seems logical.

I pound my chest. He pounds his. We run at each other and punch the shit out of everything--someone dies, someone gets hurt--whatever. Big deal. I pound my chest. He pounds his. And we pull out laser-guided surface-to-air 8 million megaton nuclear shells and.... well, alot of things are fucked.

Our 'tools' that elevate us above the animals will be our ultimate downfall. And maybe it just sets back humanity to a pre-tool primitive world. Maybe it all balances out. I don't know dogshit from donuts on what'd happen. Who knows. We're all dead? Cockroaches only ones left? Maybe cockroaches and just giraffes? (That'd be awkward.) Any number of possibilities, really. Which makes me wonder-- maybe we aren't top of the evolution chain.

?

What if we're just fancy nothing? Who says intelligence, a soul, a sense of purpose in this world counts for anything? Maybe it's just as good as having a fucking multi-color beak. Yea, looks cool, keeps you alive a little longer..... but it's just a beak.

What if the only purpose of life is to 'survive'? To pass 'the seed'? To reproduce--and reproduce aLOT (I'm lookin at you Irish people.) Then does it matter if you have feelings along the way? Does it matter you invented central AC along the way? Does it matter you even changed the earth?

Sure, we like to think about things and we think intelligence is the most important thing and not only do we think we're the most intelligent creature but we probably are the most intelligent creature and that in turn makes us think we're the pinnacle of life on earth.

That sure is alot of thinkin.

But we die the same as the emu. We procreate in much the same way as my dog (when I watch him at night with my infareds). We fight much the same as those two pigeons I saw at work the other day battling over a french fry. Thinking only seems to get you so much. It gets you buildings. And roads. And religions. And finances. And an 'economy' and 'government' and 'rules' and a pretty pompous self-involved view of what life should be. But it is, still afterall, life.

So maybe it's just pretty colorful beaks and we seem only to compare ourselves to the other species of the world in 'beak dynamics'. But I don't think a beetle wants a beak. (I guess if he did he might want it colorful, I'm not sure.) I think a beetle just 'is' a beetle.




















Yikes....



It just gets ya thinkin some days. I mean, does any creature think there are advanced evolutionary creatures above it? Would we? Would it even matter in the long run? Who knows. Hell----maybe Darwin was full of shit.








PS - So I don't particularly believe any of this. In fact, I was gonna write a blog on 'machines are actually the next stage of evolution--we just don't know it yet' and include tons of Terminator references and Skynet jokes. Another time.

i h8 Ry-in Feel'ds

Did you ever let anyone borrow your Ampeg BA115HPT bass amp and then the very next day did you miss it?

Me too.

Thank you Ryan Fields, I appreciate your basement holding onto my amp for me, because for a second there, I was worried I would have to have it back at my house where i could play it at my leisure. But you sure have taken that load off my mind. Thank you!

And the good news is I sold my practice amp to stupid, retarded Ben's stupid, even more retarded brother. So now I have NO amp to play on. But good news!! I found one of my instrument chords to not play on an amp with!!

Wow, I just read the specs on my Bamp. Holy shit no wonder I hate lugging that big, tube-filled beast around everywhere I go. It's 80lbs!

You can god damned keep it, Flyin' Ryan. Why would I want to carry that from your basement all the way to my car? Wow, I really had no idea it was that heavy. I might just leave it there permanently. I don't need it that bad.

And Jesus Christ, this thing has lower end. That's some monster thump. Hmmm, it says here something something something "plus the warmth and coloration of a 12AU7 tube front-end."

That just sounds so delicious. I had no idea Billy Sheehan promotes my amp. Hmmm, wow. I'm a badass. And imagine that, I want to play it now. Bad.

I wanna hear that smooth, deep low end rumble through me. I wanna get down and play that off-note on the off-beat. Like I wanna rattle and roll all over Treble's dick (assuming all treble was one individual--and a man). I wanna live it up and pick it up--the groove that is. I need it.

Like Tom Fox just picked up my bass and played a lick and put it down. Like someone was talking about my bass and it's in my eyesight. Like I just listened to The Lemon Song and I'm high. THAT's how bad I wanna jam now.

And that's pretty bad. Oh well, date night with MEGHAN. Guess I'll just go out to dinner and worry about bass later. Like when-I'm-not-at-my-house-but-instead-at-Ryan's later.

Fuck you, Ryan Fields.
Thanks for letting me leave my Bamp.
Asshole.






















http://www.ampeg.com/products/bassamp/ba115hpt/index.html

The Superbowl is Gay

I was in Vegas in June.
I was drunk.
I also bet on the Eagles to win the Superbowl.


And that's just it, I wasn't that drunk. I was feelin' fine, I was rollin roulette like a gangsta, and I was high on the Eagles draft picks.


Well, as of yesterday, I've officially hit rock bottom.
2 Months ago I was feelin' a 13-3 record.
Now I might as well say 3-13.


Book it. Done. Game over.


We'll quickly go position-by-position and give my:
Worst Case Uh-Oh's.....



QB
-Well, it's still Donovan McNaab. Good enough to give you a chance.... not good enough to win it for you in the clutch. He's getting older and mobility and injury problems have become worse over the years.
-It's also his final year as an Eagle w the job on the line (in my opinion), so maybe that lights a fire under his 'smilin,-i-threw-it-too-low-my-bad' ass. I consider Donny Mac a wash. I mean, what if we had... Rex Grossman?
-Back-ups?
RB
-Running backs have short lives. When it's over, it's over. Westbrook is one of the best in the biz, but the injuries have been piling up and the stats have started to slow.
-McCoy? I really don't like relying on rookies to make an impact. Blocking is usually an issue for them. And who's our 3rd string if B-West does go down..... Booker?
WR
-Can DeSean repeat his stellar performance w defenses keying on him now? Will Curtis be healthy and effective?
-Who the hell is your 3rd guy? You expect another rookie to emulate Jackson's breakout year last year? Good luck, especially w a kid who's never played NFL ball and has already missed half of training camp because of contract disputes.
O-Line
-So we've got Shawn Andrews who might still have back issues and now has head issues? We've got his brother--first name 'Stacy'--?
-Not only are there injury issues to deal w first (like, will they all play), but this O-line has never played together before, and the veteran presense of Thomas and Runyan is out the window?
Kicking
-The past couple years Akers hasn't been Mr. Automatic and Sav has been good, but inconsistant and super Austrlian.
-We hope to God D-ake doesn't have to kick at the meadowlands....
D-Line
-They aren't bad. Contain most rushes. Put some pressure on the QB. But they don't have a real game-breaker or sack machine that alot of other 'top-notch' teams have.
-Trent Cole has baby brown eyes that could mesmerize his teammates.
LineB
-I was super-pumped for a breakout year for my boy--Stewart Bradley--and the rest of the LB'ers and then.... there goes the year.
-Bradley was the QB of the defense and a natural leader on a team that lost alot of leadership over the offseason.
-Other LB'ers are OK, nothing great. Who will fill Bradley's void?
CornerB
-The only hard-hitting proven pro in the backfield is Sheldon and wouldn't you know it he's having contract issues w the Eagles. Another Lito?
-Asante and Hobbes are good cover-guys to a degree, but apparently the team has them learning/working out alot of press coverage---- something they didn't do for New England.
Safety
-No Dawk. You just can't replace that.
-Don't know who's gonna start or what kind of game they bring. Whoever it is will be a slightly better cover guy (in theory) and be a drop-off in every other category (all the way into the locker room and beyond)
Coaching
D -Jim Johnson. The man w the master plan. The bringer of blitz. Even if the pieces weren't the best by themselves, JJ could always find a way to fashion a masterpiece on D. Putting guys in the right places, trusting those unteachable instincts of his, and master-minding that whole explosive, unforgettable Eagles defense this city takes pride in.
-Don't know what McDermott's got. We can hope-- but it's as simple as that. Plus, think of how the players will react. He may have their attention and their praise--but does he have their unwavering trust and will to go into battle?
O -Andy will always be Andy. Yea, we have a Fullback. Does that mean we'll use him or start running? What are you, crazy-- this is Andy.
-Forget who the O Coordinator is and it's getting late....
M(anagement) -Jeffrie Lurie and Joe Banner are scum bags. They think their shit don't stink and the bottom line in their world is the almighty $Dolla Dolla bill. They look down on the very people that support them and treat the fans, the media, and the players like they're idiots.
-Won't spend the money to pay better players or keep our good players happy. Possible holdout situations.



--------------But have no need to fear. Quick Banner quote:

"I feel this year we have the best roster in the league,” Banner said. And owner Jeffrie Lurie, he assured us was all about winning. The money means nothing to him, Banner explained.

Riiiiiiiiiiiiggggggggghhhhhhhhttttt.... you faggot.




















Anyhow, that's where my brain is right now. Just jotting down my doubts and fears. Hope it'll turn around as we figure things out and finally get closer to football season. I mean, there are definite counter-points and positives to take from (almost) every position I listed. I know that. But we'll see. Just preparing for the worst case scenario.

And hopefully, this isn't just another let down year. Cause don't get me wrong, I love the 'Birds. I still got them picked to win it all baby! Shit, I got $30 or so invested in a Superbowl win. That'll pay out something like $330 or $400 or..... hmmmm, where did I put that ticket....