| Blue Moon, You saw me standing alone w/o a care in my heart, without a love of my own. |
[Dec. 3rd, 2009|04:28 pm] |
My wife had cervical cancer last year. They did surgery and scraped all the infection out. She lay staring at the monitor watching the doctor's tools scrub away the infection. She later told me she couldn't turn away- wouldn't take her eyes off the screen and she wanted to "see them take out what he put in me."
That kinda spooked me like: whoah! But, now we are trying to have sex again, or we have plans to have sex again. The doc told her that if she didn't have sex that her vagina would close up. And he gave her a variety of dildos to keep her somewhat dilated. She hasn't used any of them and she's now talking about using me. And, that's cool. "Nothing has been up in there in a year." She told me.
They say sex cures depression and I know it's good exercise too. Well, it's just the natural order of things. Animalistic attraction, sentimental attraction, intellectual attraction, Yard Gnome attraction, Tilt a Whirl attraction, Power Rangers attraction, Papa was a Rodeo Attraction, Pink Floyd's Ooma Gooma Attraction, whatever! Attraction, the Blarney Stone of the Seven Seas attraction, Multiple Orgasm Attraction. I'm more than a man. I'm a creation of God and I must heal my wife. Cast out these Demons! Fill your soul. |
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| Here's How the World Went. |
[Dec. 3rd, 2009|07:59 am] |
I spent the last year living in a cave up in the Great Sipsey Wilderness. I met some people up there that have never ridden in a car, never been to school or shopped at the grocery store. Most of them are pretty nice but, I'm glad to be back home.
The man that was bringing us corn meal, honey, bread, can food and fresh vegetables recently stopped altogether. He would also bring me pellets for my 22 rifle. I would shoot squirrel and rabbit and make the respective stew. He stopped bringing all the supplies. There was this couple- "man and wife" that always wanted to hang out with me. We stayed up late at night during the summer drinking home made wine and singing songs with my guitar. The man had a belt that was a grenade holder from World War II, he had every key of harmonica tucked safely in where the grenades used to be. We played all night long sometimes- fading into long acapella sessions and when the birds started chirping in the spring we would whistle back.
Word had came into camp about some of the "Wood's Folk" (as I like to call them) who had wandered out of their designated area- close to civilian hiking trails, and they had even been spotted staggering on the side of the highway drunk on moonshine and hungry for "cheesy bread." When I first came into camp it was just vegeterian meals and wine only. But, this new asshole has been bringing in meats, cow's milk and conversing with the local shiners up North of Here. In the last two weeks 2 battles have broken out between the local ball kickers and it's getting too cold to deal with this bull shit. Screw you guys, I'm going home.
The unfortunate part of my adventure into the wilderness is that my two buddies that went up there with me got killed by some North Country Folk, and rumour has it, though I didn't see it with my own eyes: there was also a cannibal feast. I was not with them when they got killed so I don't know how it happened. Someone told me it was an accident, but I don't believe it. Some of those fuckers up there are dumb as rocks but mostly nice. Ya know- they don't know how to talk normal English at all. There's just grunts, whispers and songs. Kinda spooky in the middle of the night.
It's just a whole other world up there. Some of them are smarter than others- there is one villiage where- it consists of people from normal society- from the city, that just wanted to get away... so they came up here to get away from all the violence and drugs but, ended up having to defend themselves even more. I've learned alot of survival skills and I feel better than I ever have before. I think it's all due to just better and more exercise- just more walking, hiking, climbing & running around to hunt and kill wildlife just to survive. Me likey.
I'm going back up there with some Mormon Missionaries to preach the word of Joseph and give everybody bibles and try to get them to come back to the city with us. Each of us will be armed with a crucifix and a bullet proof vest, helmets and a weapon of choice. I truly believe this is my calling from God. I must educate the random sinners of the world. I am practicing levitation right now as we speak. I will float in on the March winds and just be holy- circumcising the uncircumcised, revelating the unrevelated. Just, ya know being tha' BOSS! |
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| Makin' Mezcal Tequila- The Agave Plant adventures. |
[Dec. 2nd, 2009|10:39 pm] |
I was ridin' double on a Palomino horse down by the Rio Grande. Ridin' with my baby- Sal or "Sallie" as we (me and the horse- "Crooner") like to call her. I had traded my ukulele for a guitar...wait a second...vice verca- I traded my guitar for a ukulele. The guy I got the uke from also gave me a few switchblade knives, some mace and a pair of handcuffs. I threw away the handcuffs. Well, actually I cuffed this magnolia tree's two limbs together.
"There is a point in the Rio that we can cross, mama" I told Sallie in an encouraging tone. "We are lookin' for the Mezcal plants- the Agave plant/ cactus thingy where the mezcal comes from. The seven inch cowboy told me they grow wild and free out here and if I follow this diagram he gave me I should be able to help him make mezkal tequila in a couple of weeks. "It's not actually a cactus" Sal proclaimed. "It's from the Lily Family." I hugged her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. I'm gonna give her some kids later. In her belly.
This is just the kind of adventure/ mission/ experiment I need after being on the train with Sal for two days with only one stop. Our ride on the barge across the river fell through so, we just stole this horse fair and square...I mean...we stole it outright from these three mexican boys that were riding it at the same time. It was for the best, because I knew them from my last visit in South Texas along this side of the border. I remember them from last spring.
The three Mexican boys want to be in the Circus. They are trying all these tricks like standing up on the horse and jumping over each other's heads without a helmet. I don't approve of it and neither does Sal. She and I watched from a bank up high above them after we got off the train. Actually I said we stole it but, the Mexican Boy's uncle gave it to us- along with the switchblade knives and mace in trade for this old Martin guitar- priced at over 4,000 dollars. U.S. dollars.
We dunked down into the Rio Grand- gettin' our junk all wet...the fishies snapped at our heels, the brim nibbled our arms, the snakes wrapped around our torsos and necks and the current carried us down stream. I got up on my hands and knees on Crooner's back. His eyes were wide with fear. Sallie grabbed a fish out of the water and put it in her hand bag...she grabbed another. Wow, she's quick. How does she do that? SHOOP!
When we got into the Mexican Country- on the other side of the River. Sally Wally took the fish out of her bag and began to clean them. The sun was goin' down and I struck up a fire. We had fish and some cornbread that I had put under my hat the night before. This ukulele sounds great Darling. Let's tune it to the sound of the crickets. Let's tune it to the sound of the River. Let's tune it to the sound of your face. Let's tune it by the light of the stars. I Love You. |
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| Text Messages from December 3rd around 2 am |
[Dec. 2nd, 2009|09:50 am] |
she: "Hello"
him: "Hay mama"
she: "What r u doin"
him: "Im standin naked in the
rain...what r u doin?"
she: "Not a thing"
him: "Im hungry like the wolf...i
just wrote a short story,
took sum pix etc....i want to
paint ur body"
she: "What? Lol"
him: "I want to take some body
paint and go to work on
you"
she: "Haha"
she: "I need somebody 2 talk 2."
him: "Call me" |
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| Matilda lives in the woods, harvesting Marijuanna and music. |
[Dec. 2nd, 2009|08:09 am] |
You know how you always wanted to get to know somebody like, say back in high school but you never really got to hang out with them, but then later in life you meet them again and they are cooler than you ever Imagined? Well, that's my story today.
I was in tenth grade and there was a girl named Matilda. She ran cross country on my team, well...on the girls team. Cross Country was always ran during the last period of the school day. All the boys and girls would start running at the same time and be on the same path. Matilda took off running with the rest of the girls in front of me. Me and some of the other guys took off after them, so to speak.
Matilda never caught my eye like the way she did this day. She looked like a meditating Indian jogging down the road. In her place, at her pace. I noticed her shorts and the way her legs were moving. Steady, purposefully. Jogging up closer behind her I tried to notice every part of her body before I passed.
Matilda now lives in a cabin in Tuscaloosa county. Way out in the woods (not too) close to beat ten. She lives there with ten other women who all play in a string band. An old timey string band. They make their own wine, whiskey and beer. Four of the women who live there- Joslyn, My Becca, Julianne and Iris are only singers in the band. I have the extreme, hardcore pleasure of being their road manager of sorts during their upcoming summer tour.
Me and my friend Tony are helping design their dresses, stockings, socks, shoes and even make up & hair styles (to some extent) for the shows. Most of the gals go for a bit of a gothic feel, but Matilda, Janis, Hannah, Randy, Josephine, Gertrude and Penelope are more traditional and/or retro- old timey in taste in dress and even conservative with their make up (some don't wear any, or shave for that matter.)
I flew my helicopter out there to the middle of the woods the other day- it's like seven and a half miles from any road where they live and they have to be flown in or some of them ride horses in. There is one patch of land in a bit of clearing where they have several marijuanna plants growing. They make pot brownies on wednesdays and smoke only on saturday afternoons. Never at night.
The wine bins are full for months at a time and they drink it all within less than two months. Joslyn makes beer every other month and they drink on that for two weeks at least. Julianne and My Becca grow beans in the garden and corn every year. Matilda has Rosemary warming around all sides of the house. She will pick me a branch and say: "Love grows where my Rosemary goes." I blush and do a little dance in my pants.
There is a group of full blooded Native American women that come by their cabin once a month with lacey undergarments to sell. Randy and Gertrude usually give them branches of dried out marijuanna in trade for it. One time one of the Choctaw Indian Girls complained that the marijuanna wasn't as good as last time and she wanted to sell the bras and panties half off instead of full price. Gertrude declined. Randy changed the undergarments to half off instead of full price and they smoked some new weed since it was saturday afternoon.
The whole trading of pot confused me in this situation and I think they knew not what they were doing and I just chalked it up to us all being high. I think the Choctaw girls were using reverse psychology to get more weed and at the same time trying to make a play on words with the whole "underwear half off" thing. They are known nudists anyway and they are always preaching about how much more alive they feel when they are naked doing anything- the laundry, hiking, repelling down off of cliffs, rock climbing, canoeing etc. |
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| My Daughter- the Goat Rider & Thirsty Travellings to Mexico and Beyond. |
[Dec. 2nd, 2009|12:31 am] |
I walked up to the edge of the cliff on the side of the mountain where I stay in North Georgia...among the Pines...up on Laciter mountain. It was early in the morning and I could see the sun playing off the goats heads and horns. The kids were bouncing around down beside the creek.
My Great Great Uncle- Bobby Ray was actually the man that started the term "kids" to refer to small human- children. Of course, firstly baby goats were called "kids" but my 14- 16 head of offspring playin' in the yard and up on the big rocks reminded me of the pack of goats including billy goats, mama goats and baby goats/ teenage goats- called kids. Goga is neither proud or ashamed of our children and they try to walk on water.
Anyway, my oldest daughter (four years old) Mary Jo is a goat rider- she hooks up string she wove into rope and trys to use it as reign for the male goats- she actually ties it to their horns, but they always pull away. So, ultimately the best riding goats are the mature females who've only had one batch of kids. The older females aren't as tolerant. I have gotten kick after kick, literally rolling in horse shit watching her ride the goats.
She sings like this country twangy song- "Giddy-yap! whaoooaaahh!! Giddy-yap!! whoaooooaaooh!" And Mary Jo'll do a little scootin' dance on the goat- rocking back and forth and the Goat'll just take off! - bouncing along...I fell off my horse one day laughing so hard at her antics. She'll get the goat real excited and if the goat takes off too fast Mary Jo will fall off the back- just kinda slide off the tail there. It's the best entertainment on a saturday afternoon.
We will start training M.J. to ride a Shetland Pony next year. She'll be five and we will fit her for a helmet to use while riding the horse (as a Christmas present this year.) I'm planning a trip to southern Mexico right now, and then to Brazil. I will take a jeep ride for 27 miles through the jungle in southern Mexico. I heard that there are Chimpanzees down there that have been bred and trained to actually cook food, using an oven and everything. I'm kinda scared to find out. But, I'm going. My friend Jackson "Mississippi" Pollack told me they actually let you watch the Chimpanzees cook. I need to look at the pamphlet again.
When I get in New Orleans (drivin' down there with my wife- Goga, she will drop me off on Canal Street.) I will get on a train (hobo style) and ride it all the way to a town close to Brownsville, Texas. I have a map and handbook- published by this anarchist company- (Crimethinc.)- you can subscribe to it through mail. It actually has the train routes mapped out and which direction what train goes where and even when. Which it's not always exactly correct they say, and worse case scenerio a track has been moved or rerouted.
But, anyway. There's only supposed to be one stop before Brownsville, TX after leaving New Orleans. Halfway to Corpus Christi the engine drivers stop to load wood and then it's all the way to Brownsville. And I have a deal with the money lenders to ride a barge across the Rio Grande and then a log truck all the way to Monterrey, Mexico. Apparently there's a massage therapy/ yoga center in Monterrey that serves Mezkal Tequilla and I'm gonna get me some. My friend Jackson is doing a photo shoot of the painted bodies of some white girls that live in a Spanish brothel in Monterry & like they say: "Tequila makes her clothes fall off."
My friend Leigh Anne and her fiance (from Tucson, AZ) are flying into Monterrey to meet us there. L.A. does the body painting and her man is a film artist, he is bringin' his high tech, redneck video camera to film the painting process and the scene for this movie that is being filmed- a documentary that will be partially intertwined w/ a show on National Geographic called "The Thirsty Traveller" and then we study the music of South Eastern Mexico, also to be filmed with the group from the brothel, that has apparently quit whoring to start a belly dancing ensemble. Their back up band- the Howboy Cats. Can't wait. |
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| Taken from Moose |
[Dec. 1st, 2009|12:06 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  hungry | ] |
10 bands or singers you like
1.) "Weird Al" Yankovic
2.) Ozzy Obourne
3.) Leon Redbone
4.) Motörhead
5.) Maria Mena
6.) Emiliana Torrini
7.) Lisa Loeb
8.) Megadeth
9.) Carnivore
10.) W.A.S.P.
9 things that make you smile
1.) Babies in costumes
2.) Ozzy Osbourne
3.) Guitar Solos
4.) Mr. Bean
5.) Gul Dukat
6.) All my friends
7.) Being in the mountains
8.) Ernest P. Worrel
9.) When Krishelle makes silly faces
8 things you wear daily
1.) Underwear
2.) Socks
3.) Shoes
4.) Jeans
5.) Tshirt
6.) Hairband
7.) Jean jacket
8.) Sunglasses
7 things that annoy you
1.) Inconsiderate people
2.) Smell of garbage
3.) Having to answer phones
4.) People who don't give straight answers
5.) The speed at which bread molds
6.) Have all but 1 ingredient to make a meal
7.) Disobedient dogs
6 things you're looking forward to
1.) My computer screen (HA! Get it?!)
2.) Sinbad this Sunday at the Comedy Club
3.) Playing Magic with Krishelle and James on Sundays
4.) Band practices
5.) New episodes of "The Office", "It's Always Sunny", and "House"
6.) "Daria" and "Small Wonder" coming out on DVD next year
5 things you're scared of
1.) Heights
2.) Confined spaces
3.) Dying alone
4.) Traveling fast
5.) Unknowingly upsetting people
4 things that are on your desk
1.) Picture of me and Krishelle
2.) Picture of Whiskeyfist
3.) Masters of the Universe figures
4.) My Dundee
3 movies you could watch over and over again
1.) UHF
2.) The Stoned Age
3.) Walk Hard
2 of your fav songs at the moment
1.) "Arrow" - Tegan And Sara
2.) "In These Arms" - The Swell Season
1 person you could spend the rest of your life with
1.) Krishelle |
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| Ben Rivers w/ his wife Goga on a long, hot summer night. |
[Dec. 1st, 2009|04:07 am] |
My name is Ben Rivers. My wife's name is Goga (Cherokee for "summer") & it is pronounced like it looks. She was named Goga because she was born in the summer. We live down beside the Black Warrior river in Sipsey, AL. The year is 1847. It's summertime out and alot of the tribe folk are gone swimmin', fishin' and snake killin' right now. There's a herd of cattle that came home last night, they had been in northern Florida most of the winter.
My cousin Julianne was gone milkin' the cows early one morning- one of the only cows we kept in the barn was for milkin'. But, now we are going to kill it for food...this morning. Since the herd came in, it's time to select a new one for milking...a younger one. We will have steak and whiskey tonight. The whiskey is very sweet this year, because the corn was very sweet this year, because we had alot of rain. And mother nature sprinkled down some sugar on the crops.
Sleepin' in the tent at night we have to open the skin- covering the top portion of the tent- made from deer and buffalo. Sometimes we wrap up in coats and go sleep in the grass on summer nights. The dew wakes us us by tickling our eye lashes and faces. It's very refreshing to wake up in a field of grass with butterflies floating on the breeze.
Our dogs- Sally and Jessie were playing a "hopping over master's body game"...if we slept late they would come a runnin' and jump over us both at the same time. Goga would just lay there and laugh and laugh and the doggies performed their circus tricks over our heads. She actually trained them to jump over us like that. Before we built our new tent we slept outside most of the summer while the skin was drying and stretching. Goga had plenty of time to train Jessie and Sally.
I think Sally is preggers and Julianne is back with the milk from the cow she just let go into the herd so I fed Sally some of the milk and put her in the barn for the witch doctor to come and pray over her body and cast out any doggie demons there might be from her fornication that had happened last night. Because afterall she is not a married bitch- only one year old and we did not perform the ceremony in time- in between her and that tramp that comes around every spring/ early summer.
To marry two dogs, we just have a howling contest/ party with them- where everybody brings food and musical instruments (to have a hoe down!) and the male dog that completes the obstacle course the fastest gets to marry and breed with the oldest bitch. The second place male gets to marry the 2nd oldest bitch and so forth, until you run out of heated up bitches. Max & Rex the two stray tramps did not compete at the party last night. Now here those bastards are wanting to breed, and they're not even full blooded Annawan- they are part Akando! So...this is our concern dude. |
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| My ancestors, a breif history lesson. |
[Nov. 30th, 2009|11:52 pm] |
I lived in Colorado for two years- from January of 2004 until January of 2006. I used to go fly fishing with the old men and women that lived there. For fun some of us would go out on saturday mornings to go "panning for gold" searching anywhere really. But, mainly in the creek beds. We never found anything.
Alot of Creek Indians used to live where I live now- out in the North Jasper area. Every time someone plows up their field in a new place they find arrow heads from previous battles about a hundred and fifty years ago or more. I am one sixteenth Cherokee/ Chocktaw mix. It was much like a Romeo and Juliette union. Frowned upon funnily by both tribes. His name was Ben Rivers. I was named after him. He moved from (what was eventually called) the South Lowell subdivsion area (named by settlers from England) to Sipsey- over close to where the Frosty is. He started a family that had a camp- tents down close to the Warrior River.
Ben Rivers Chocktaw wife he took and impregnated was a beautiful woman. She was one of a kind. She looked like Pocahontas. Ben would get into fights with other tribesmen just for fun- out of boredom really- if they didn't have any harvests to reap or any deer to shoot with arrows or any rain dances to do they would just gather around and fight each other. There was a misunderstanding in this Native American Fight Club and Ben got killed. They showed no mercy.
The younger female indian girls and the older ones who still got into heat once in a while would not be expected to work or do anything really while they were "on the moss"...that's right...all they were expected to do during their bloody cycle was just chill out, eat apples and sit on patches of moss all day.
The boys would go swimming in the creek (blackwater) during the summer. If they were bitten by snakes or just saw one lying around they would catch it, skin it and cook it on the fire. Nothing is better to eat than snake on a warm summer night. They would mix it up with a corn/ onion medley and have a feast. They would eat possum, squirrel, rabbit, fish, frogs, snakes, chickens and goats. They made goat milk and goat soup on sundays before the Pow Wow where sometimes neighboring tribes would come and bring bags of rice in trade for chicken eggs. |
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| (no subject) |
[Dec. 1st, 2009|06:01 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  useless | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Tears for Fears - Listen | ] |
I am made of fail. I should get a tattoo on my forehead with big fat red letters screaming "100% FAIL".
I'm damaged goods. Handle with caution. I tend to just demolish everything in my way. Actually...just steer clear of me and you should be fine.
I'm tired of this.
I keep trying and failing. I don't see a change in the results no matter how I try shuffling the equation.
I think I might just give it a rest and spare everyone a good deal of further emotional damage. Although the worst damage is probably already done.
If you read this:
I love you.
And I'm sorry. |
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| Great Holiday |
[Nov. 30th, 2009|08:35 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  refreshed | ] |
| [ | music |
| | "I Dream A Highway" - Gillian Welch | ] |
Seems like all I do on LiveJournal anymore is just recap my weekends. Guess it's because I'm always busy during the week, so there nothing too terribly interesting to tell. So anyways, here's how my 4-day long Thanksgiving break was.
Thursday:
Krishelle and I drove down to my parents' house were we ate lunch with my mom, dad, brother, his girlfriend Madison, and my grandpa. After lunch, we all walked to the dogs (Jetta, Banjo, Jux, Juno, and Madison's pug). Spent a long time on the porch just enjoying the cool, cloudless day. That night for diner, we went to Krishelle's mom's apartment. It was my first time going over there. It was really fun. We ate, made fun of Krishelle for saying "I don't like the juice", but hiccuping in the middle, so it sounded like "I don't like jews." We stayed up a long while talking. It was without a doubt the best Thanksgiving I've ever had.
Friday:
I woke up at 4:30am and went over the BestBuy to get Krishelle's X-mas present. Luckily, I wasn't in line for more than 12 minutes. Got what I needed, and got out. Then went back to bed. Woke up later, and K and I met up with her mom again at Cracker Barrel for some breakfast. Then we went back to my place to watch Reservoir Dogs. Then I had to go to work at the mall were it was hardly buys at all. I think I rang up 5 people all night.
Saturday:
Once again, Krishelle and I went to breakfast at Cracker Barrel. Once again, our experience was quite sub-par. How does that place have so many employees, yet is always so unorganized. Anyways, we ran a few errands, just relaxed for a few hours, then went to the dollar theater and saw Zombieland. It was very good. Really enjoyed it. After that, we spent the rest of the night watched Farscape episodes. Krishelle now knows who Scorpious is.
Sunday:
Spent most of the day by myself. Watched some ST:TNG, downloaded the entire animated series of Conan The Adventurer, went to the grocery store, and watched the Andy Griffith classic A Face In The Crowd. Then Krishelle and Nathan came over and we drafted some Magic. Nathan won a game, and then I won a game. It was a fun way to end the weekend.
Live Long & Prosper |
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| Alaskian Trip, Ice Fishing with the Eskimos/ dog training. |
[Nov. 30th, 2009|05:22 am] |
Last summer when I was walkin' the thin ice out on a lake in Alaska, I met a 4 year old Eskimo boy and his father. The boy's name was Ishupeezee and his father's name was Heratio (pronounced "Her-ratio" or Herasheo") They had a full bucket of fish when I first met them- Ice fishing early in the middle of July. They looked classic- like the real life Eskimos they are. I had a pack of wild dogs I had trained to pull my sled.
I also would practice harmonica in the middle of the night while the coyotes howled in the summer, cold air moonlight. Ishupeezee had a buffalo skin jacket he wore all day long. He would ride on Heratio's back if he got tired of walking from camp to camp. The Eskimo camps were less than a mile apart. So it wasn't too far to walk or ride a buffalo, which they had trained since birth to haul goods from camp to camp. We saw some buffalo breeding one morning and it was hilarious. You should've heard them moanin' and hollering. It sounded a bit like deer having sex.
Baby buffalo are so adorable. They look like little puppies but a considerable size bigger. One lady (Heratio's wife- Brenda) was white and had this accordian... she was really good at playing and singing so, I broke out my acoustic guitar and we sang some ditties like: the "they're all made of ticky tacky song" and she did an amazing Amazing Grace. She's a wired ole' gal. She made this apple cider that was to die for. As a matter of fact I think I did die a few times while drinking it- they kept waking me up shouting: "Benjamin!" "Ben-jah-min!" Maybe, I think they thought if they said my name clearer and seperated the syllables a little better I would come out of my Cider Coma.
They had buffalo balls for breakfast one morning. They were actually pretty good. Like sausage balls. The group I had flown into Washington state with went in a group of 22 to the more southern part of Alaska, but I was more north of there- about 75 miles norther and I had the dogs I fed steaks and trained to mush! Mush! and sing along with me and pull the sled. Either you can rent dogs at the station or select from the kennel to train and being a dog pro. I just decided to adopt 13 or...well, it was fifteen but two of them attacked me in my sleep on the first night there- gnawing on my leg and face so I snapped one of their necks and I shot the other one a bird and he just walked away never to return.
I had a pretty severe cut on my cheek, ear and neck where that one I killed had attempted to eat my face and brains. But the other one had just broken the skin a bit so I let him slide and he literally did go sliding across the ice covered lake next to where our camp was. I had a nice little humble fire built out of hickory dickory dock wood. I skinned that one doggie, and put it on the fire- adding more wood and cookin' it slowly. I had dog burgers for breakfast. The two other people who's names I will not disclose at this time were on this journey with me. They left when I killed the dog and started stripping it.
It was a 45 mile hike back to the station (where the train came in) but, I know it was a hard walk without the doggies they had rented. Wait, no I'm confusing it with the group I met up with a week later- the two people I was with left with their pretrained sled dogs after I killed the first. They had an easy trip out. My point is- I am alone with the dogs now. And, all 13 of these trust me. It's been 4 days at this camp now and they are used to the reigns. They accept them now. So I'm on the trail to the next Eskimo camp only two days away with my guitar strapped on my back. It would've taken less than four days but a pack of wild buffalo came near the camp so me and the doggies went out dancing with them two nights in a row.
I witnessed the birth of a batch of baby buffalos one of the mornings. I fed the rest of the dog burger to the other dogs. Are dogs considered cannibals if they eat their own kind or is there another word for it? I'd really like to know. I caught some salmon- ice fishing the next afternoon (on the second day of my new trained doggies trip.) I shared most of it with the dogs and moved on. When I got to the camp late at night they (the Eskimo tribe) had set the forest on fire next to the camp to keep the Great Alaskan white snake (which is much like an anaconda) from coming into that side of the camp from the nearby river on the other side. The endangered snake can be up to 45 feet long, 26 inches in diameter at it's biggest point and has been known to eat small children and some midget Eskimos. I applauded their defensive skills and played music with the Native American tribal sounding/ southeast Asian sounding funk/ soul band. They had some djembes made out of cedar and pig/ horse skin and a sitar and other string thingies like- one lady- Brenda even had a harp. |
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| Science Bird at the Bottle Tree. |
[Nov. 26th, 2009|04:59 am] |
It was weird and cool seeing Hannah and Helen Gassenheimer at the Bottle Tree last night. I haven't seen Jannell in like two years until last night (not to mention Helen or Hannah- it had been longer since I'd seen them) Jannell was playing fiddle of course and doing back up vocals/ tambourine.
It's like I was watching a movie they had been making for a couple of years. Their bassist and drummer were awesome too. I got to hang out with LaDonna Smith also. Yay. she is nice and awesomely cool. It's fun to talk with her about music. She asked me if I'd been making any noise lately. She prefers improvisation in music. She plays Viola.
I saw Kirby in the audience and we hugged and chilled all night. Helen had on these crazy sexy cool platform shoes. they were purple I think. Like, I wish I'd taken a picture of them. It reminded me of a more conservative version of what Amber Valentine from Jucifer wears. Alot more conservative but, they still have the same effect. She had on these grey looking stockings and they had stripey lines goin down 'em. and she was wearin' a little black dress.
Hannah Belle (Helen's sister) also played guitar and sang some of her songs, and by God---she had on a flourescent green tu tu. I shit you not. Like a psychadelic ballerina. It was awesome. I had an Irish Car Bomb that cost $8.50 and then just drank a bottle of water and finished watching them play. Then I bought a Yuinglinge for $3.50...then me and Kirby snuck back stage to meet and greet the band. It was fun, we talked about LaDonna's recent trip to Amsterdam and how she smoked weed all over the place ... legally. well, it's like they describe in the movie Pulp Fiction I reckon.
Anyway, next I grabbed a Miller High Life from the band's bin of complimentary beer. and I started sucking on that and foaming all over the place. Everybody was like: "whoah, Ben are you driving home?" and I was like: "no, I rode my horse here and he knows the way home." then Jannell and Kirby started singin' "my little pony" and I sobered up. I actually wrote that song for Jannell, not exactly about her but, with her in mind indeed. It's great she seems to like it so much. I don't think I've ever told her I wrote it for her. (It was during the time when I really was all about playing music with her. But, it doesn't make sense to play music with somebody that lives so far away I guess.
That's why I want to tour. I think I was born to be on the road. Even though I've spent alot of time at home, just studying music and movies and practicing performance and film editing/ directing and writing songs/ booking shows. I think I was bred into it. My mom and dad drove to Birmingham from Jasper so my mom could have her baby in a Birmingham Hospital. I don't know why exactly but, I was kind of born on the road in that way. Growin' up with my dad rockin' out to his old records on the turntable and crankin' classic rock radio in his truck all the time and sharin' his beer with me if I got thirsty. |
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| Telepathic Minds of the Orange Crush Revolution. |
[Nov. 24th, 2009|12:14 am] |
Man! we had fun playin the battle of the bands at Zydeco the other night. I only wish we could've played longer than thirty minutes. d;flaksdf;asldkjas;dlfkjasd;flkj;lkjasdf;lkjasdf;lkjasdf;lkjasdf;lkjasdf;lkjasdf;lkjasdf;lkjasdf;lkjasdf;lkjasdf;lkjasdf;lkjasdf;lkjasdf;lkjasdf;lkjasdf;lkjasd94jj4r904r04cjp94w8938yctp498th48y5pq498hdlskjfk.djlaiufrielguiregwfkebfekb
When I drove by Bryce's Mental Hospital the other day...I think I saw the old abandoned part out back where the Dexateens filmed their live acoustic music performance (which can be seen on You Tube) and their ghost hunt thingy. It was weird. There was this golden colored statue of a woman standing in a fountain out in front of the front door...she was pourin' water out of a bowl or something. Maybe she was pouring out holy water for all her homies minds that had been lost.
Beats me senseless ...Sense Less....Less Sense...Pay Less Shoe Whores. Rack em. ..
Whatever. I didn't get to go see Anna and the kids today...I sat up my drums and microphone/ p.a. speakers and practiced singin' and playin' drums at the same time...something I haven't done in a while...in a minute, but...It looks like I'm gonna start doin' it again...As good as I am at it...It would be a waste to hire a drummer that couldn't play my songs better than me anyway. there are so many more decent guitarist than drummers and there are so many more people that wanna play (six string) guitar rather than bass.
I really want an acoustic upright bassist and an electric bassist. It would be amazing to have someone that plays both. I think I'm gonna go see Helen G. and her sissy at the bottle treeeeeeeeee this wednesday night- (Jannell is playing too I heard>!!!)). Hell Yeah. Happy Thanksgiving Everyone! What are you thankful for? You better think of something good.
I have my drums sat up to where I can sit in my swivel/ office chair and just spin around to play drums and then all I have to do to play the keyboard- piano- organ is just turn around bright eyes. Then I got my sweet ass Taylor axe handy too. I've just been jammin' all evenin' on the drums and singin. Real Fun. It really has been a while since I've done it regularly. It...and...."it".....you know what I mean. Pft.
I'd like to go jump into the lake in the middle of the summer right about now. I simply deserve the best...You simply deserve the best. LOL... (: Brb.............okay I'm back. I want a man junk speedo. I'm hungry. I cooked hamburgers for supper tonight. Everything my grandmother said this evenening was totally incomplete and ...she would just start to say something and then not elaborate on what hell she was talking about. ..she was being vague and absent minded. I just stopped guessin'...I was like: "yeah...yep...I know exactly what that whatchyamacallit thing your talking about is and "I like them things that your talking about what you said you wanted me to bring you..." well, one clear thing was when she asked for her glasses. I wish I could read her mind so conversations would be easier. (Telapathic)
Okay so, I told you about the nightmare I had about Cindy right? Okay, well here's another mind trip dream/ reality occurence freak out- or a waking "dream" I had when I was in the shower back in '03...it was 2 am or so...I got in the shower and I was washin' off when I thought "FIRE!!" it just flashed in my head- like- something is on fire ya know.? But, I was thinking what is on fire...our house?....no.....my grandma's house....????? no, i'm being paranoid...But it was like somebody was trying to tell me "help! Fire! (something is on fire!) I finished my shower and got in the car to go to wal mart to get some groceries...about a half a mile from my house I saw fire trucks lined up and a house still smoking from an apparent fire. Weird. Too weird.
Well, not too weird...too weird would be if a dog ran out into the street while on fire and got ran over. |
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[Nov. 23rd, 2009|09:35 am] |
This weekend felt like a long weekend for some reason. Not really sure why. Friday, just stayed in and watched a movie and played some board games. Saturday, got up early and bought new tires for my car and got an oil change. Went and saw Planet 51 at the theater. The graphics were stellar, but the story was a bit boring. Sunday, Dick Wolf resumed band practice, working on our Motörhead set for Dec 11 at Bottletree. After that, James came over and brought his new Macbook (his first computer EVER!) and I basically gave him Computers for Beginners 101 (how to get online, import music, change desktop images, ect.) It went slowly, but he was real excited about all of the stuff he could do. We ended the night with Krishelle, James, and I playing Magic. A nice way to end a productive weekend.
Sarah Palin at Brookwood mall this afternoon. I'll be working at HT. Maybe I'll go kiss her on the cheek if I get a chance.
Live Long & Prosper |
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| T town, group pic, Hay and Bryce's hotel room...Punk War etc... |
[Nov. 23rd, 2009|09:05 am] |
Well, I had to go to the group photo for "A great day in Tuscaloosa." sunday afternoon @ 2 to be in the group photo of alot of musicians or band members that used to (or still do) be active in the scene in T town. I saw Jon Ezell there, Jill Chambles...D.C. Moon and friends...Frog (Randy Palmer)...Adam Guthrie, Jon what's his name that played drums for Green Beret and by the way- he played drums on his wife's (Lauren Krothe) new CD and it rocks!!!!!! She plays piano and sings.
Johnny Kulinich invited me to go to the Booth last night (saturday night) cuz he was jammin' with Rollin' in the Hay!!! I showed up a little late (cuz we had band practice) and got there right when the were closin' their first set with Gin and Juice...Johnny said "what's crackin'" and he got me in for free and then bought all my drinks like a true friend. I had three Irish Car Bombs (should've stopped there) also had a sippin' glass of Jameson and another Guiness. Fuck. I was okay though.
We danced and danced and hollered and sang...(I had ear plugs in) and I ended up dancing with this nice, groovin' lady- "Danielle" who must've been 40...but she was HOTTT!!! Wow, she just kept doin the same dance move - just kinda like a leanin' and rockin' ----well, kind of a shuffle...the place wasn't too packed. Johnny K bought all my drinks like a good friend. Did I mention that already? Hay rocked the house. It had been about a year since I had seen them. I think the last time they played Jasper was last fall @ Cafe Bills in Jasper.
Right now it's monday morning. I'm just now gettin' around to writing this because we played the bloody Battle of the bands @ Zydeco last night...we sold the least tickets- ZERO! so we had to play first but it was all good cuz I was ready to get home. Saturday night I stayed at the "Moon Winx" roach motel in Alberta (Tuscaloosa) just down at the end of the strip on the other side- end of University Boulevard. Sunday afternoon I went drivin' around trying to find Reese Pheifer Hall- which it was easy to find- right out in front of the Library (Gorgas) on the corner. That's where the group picture was taken. They're displaying it @ Egan's on December 11th- for a Christmas Party!
The hotel is a hotel I had stayed in before. We used to stay in room #44 back in '99. I lifted the bathroom window to get some fresh air and the window would'nt close back down- I tried everything. I could not get the window to close...I got paranoid somebody would see my booty so I went and got the picture off the wall in the main room and put it up in the window seal- to serve as a window...It was windy out so, sure enough it fell and glass broke all over the bathroom floor. I got to clean that up and disposed of the whole picture- glass out the window into the grass and the frame and pic into the dumpster outside the hotel room- in the parking lot.
Afternoon sunday I drove out to- stumbled upon the mental hospital "Old Bryce" mental hospital. I got an email from Helen Gassenheimer last night- she and her sister are playing at the Bottle Tree this wednesday November 25th. I'm there like a square peg pusher. I'm listening to the Tom Waits song "Rosie" off of his album Closing Time right now. |
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[Nov. 22nd, 2009|09:18 pm] |
uuuuuugh!
Just put up the xmas tree this year. we usually do it the day after thanksgiving, but kista will be out of town that weekend. very excited about memphis' first xmas.
got my sleeve worked on this past tuesday, got my nipples pierced thursday, then today i literally slipped on a banana peel and sort of hurt my back.
the tattoo doesnt hurt, but the back and the nipples do. the nipples especially. i think one might be a touch infected too. but i am taking care of it.
work has been slow. the economy, the time of year. stuff like that. but its cool. i am sure it will pick up.
i have some art in a window at urban outfitters in december. i dont know how many of those are in the bham area, but its the one at the summit. the window by the door.
my nipples really hurt. |
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| Crossing the sea of heartbreak. |
[Nov. 21st, 2009|01:47 pm] |
We can't quit. It's like a joke. It's like a dimenovel story about any fool-woman in a torturous relationship. This is how I feel about torture. He invites me out to do things because he knows there's no one else who can hold conversation like I can, there's no woman he could hang out with now who he wouldn't, at some point, become embarrassed of or frustrated with (limited intelligence-wise). We go out to the cheap theatre. We obsessively watch, discuss, recommend films. We try to teach other but the other is usually too stubborn. He invites me out for pitchers at the pizza place with a couple of his friends I have never met, one of them is apparently a comic genius but a rather small-town condescending kind of fellow. The other is training as a sommelier, which I have an active interest in, and so I'm perfectly delightful. I step out for a smoke and meet a really nice girl who works for a non-profit healthcare organization. I introduce myself as a failed writer with an expressed interest in grant-writing. She writes down her email on a hotel key card envelope and we shake hands, all this in front of Smug, who asks me about her immediately. I don't know why he asks, other than that she's attractive. He's the one who taught me how to network. He invites me out for a smoke and we go to the back, where no one ever goes, and he puts his face close to mine. We end up kissing. I knew it. No resisting. I'm unbearable. We tell each other we like each other. It feels good.
We go to a show at another bar and all of the usual local luminaries are there. I see my editor from the weekly and his wife, he toasts me informally on the success of the issue finally getting out. I compliment one of his pieces. Although I have met her before, his wife is amazing-looking. She's like Theda Bara with a long neck and a bob. Her nose is like Jordanian royalty. What a creature. Too bad she's painful to speak to. I see one of the fellows from the band I got into the issue, and he gives me a hug. He is recently engaged, and his fiancee is there, showing off her rock. I congratulate her. She has a lovely home.
Smug is bored so we finish our drinks in the next room, face to face. I apologize for the way I've acted recently; he apologizes. He tries to explain some things. He says the last time he masturbated he ended up thinking about me. I told him I masturbated today in the bathroom at the auto shop while my truck was being serviced. I said, I didn't mean to care about you this much. I said, I can't help but thinking there's a reason we're so compelled to each other, and I touched the scar on his forehead. He said he had a nightmare about our baby. He could see inside its ear and its face looked like his face. He said, it's because we're supposed to learn things from each other. We shouldn't torment each other anymore, but we probably will. He will probably throw another tantrum. I will probably lock myself in the bathroom crying again. I will probably tremble. I don't know what we'll do when I go back to Texas, or anywhere. I'm not thinking about that. I can't help myself. He's sleazy and disgusting, his hometown nickname is "Dirty." I always date guys with the worst nicknames. He excused himself to go to the restroom and came back, smoking a cigarette. With his greasy curls matted to his head, his uneven, coarse facial hair, and his Vince Gallo-style rust-colored, fake Members Only jacket, he looked absolutely dreamy. What's my fucking problem. He was visibly charmed by the fact that I went to the movies by myself Thursday night. He doesn't know what to do about me. |
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| A dog's holy life. Fantasy for the fantastic Flames of Love. |
[Nov. 21st, 2009|08:06 am] |
Doh-sehki the pilgrim doggie traveled a long distance to be with it's pack. Along the way he ate small children, grass and drank some tiki torch fuel which made him throw up and run fast. He spat flames out of his mouth and out of his hind quarter's mouth. When He finally made it to southern Kansas and was reunited with his pack they started breeding and making puppies to make everybody go: aawweee.
They stayed up late at night and howled in rhythm of the horse gallops and in tune with the train song. Doe-sekki was a great dane doggie with a big dong and a giant laugh. Dosek laughed like a grown man and talked like a crazy pigeon would do if it was on a window seal pooping off down onto the crowd below. Hey! Somebody's gotta fertalize the humans- hair growin like cha cha cha chia pets...
Right now I'm drinking water and looking into the sunrise hoping for some squirelly action today. My friend Zebrasia is coming to walk on the water with me at noon. She is wearing her hula hoop dress and bringing hummous dip and pita bread that we will warm over the camp fire at nine thirty p.m. Dancing with hula hoops on fire is Zebrasia's profession. She joined the circus back in '94 when she was only 15 years old and at that time she was riding on the backs of horses while standing up! When I first saw Z doing that I thought: "Now there's a brave, talented girl. I had to meet her. I was 17 at the time. I had just dropped out of high school.
We started travelling with her family in the convoy. It was an old fashioned covered wagon being pulled by horses. These people were Retro as Fuck! We shot rabbits with sling shots and cooked 'em in soup. We made friends with this one rabbit who wore contacts ... colored contacts... so this rabbit had one pink eye and one blue eye. It was hot and awesome. I freaked out on a daily basis.
I'm going back to the place where I was baptized into the church of rabbits and squirrels and chickens and birds tonight. We are going to hypnotize horses and eat seaweed wrapped sushi. Drink sake with the pilgrim doggies who have just rolled into town...then...of course...howl at the moon in unison with the other packs of dogs. For this one night- a tradition- we will all come together and build a big bonfire made of school desks made out of solid pieces of wood- no processed wood...and just be warm and thankful that our dog's female companions are politically correctly called bitches. I'm speaking for my dogs of course...Not my human companions. Somebody has to speak for the dogs. When there is so much to be learned from them. They need a translator. |
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