Tuesday, July 11, 2006

Defying the title of this blog, we instead ignore Birdmonster completely, ramble aimlessly, and schedule a practice tonight. Say, 5:30?

You know that moment in the morning, after you've spent an evening enjoying bar life and pub atmosphere and the alcoholic refreshments that innevitably accompany them, when you wake up, hopefully without your shoes on*, open your wallet, and, as if in some mid-century cartoon, an insect flies out? Yeah. That was me this morning. And yes, I did manage to remove my sneakers.

Which, suffice it to say, always bites you in the ass on a Tuesday morning. There's something about a bar on Monday night, a solidarity amongst the folks there. Everyone seems to be agreeing, unconciously, to give their day jobs a giant middle finger. And I like that. Until Tuesday. Which is now. Which is unfortunate.

I'm full of that strange feeling of lucidity that comes after a night like that though. You ever get that? The day after, hungover clarity? You notice buildings & trees on your every day walk you've never noticed before, hear songs you know and love differently, suddenly realize it's summer because there are ballerinas all over your bus (which, although that sounds borderline hallucinatory, is actually true. Every summer, a bunch of teenage ballerinas come to some camp fifteen blocks east of my house. And they all live west of it. So you see them on the bus. They all have this avian sort of look, like they're just riding the bus because they're bored of flying. But I digress). It's unfortunate that such clarity comes in tandem with dry mouth and a swimmy noggin after a night of wrist-aching foosball, aimless yelling, and threats of visiting a particular all night diner which should never be viewed by human eyes let alone eaten at by human mouths. Thankfully, the Lucky Penny was avoided. Somewhere, a can filled with ham and botulism sits, unopened.

One last random detail: My boss saw a bus this morning, but, instead of having the route printed above the windshield like every other bus, this one said:

"Nowhere In Particular"

And for some reason, it makes me really happy.

*An important distinction: if you fall asleep without your shoes on, you've fallen asleep. If your fall asleep with your shoes on, you've passed out. That settles that.


Gasoline Hobo said...

that, sir, was a FANTASTIC post.

unfortunately, i don't need a bar to give my day job the finger - i seem to do a pretty good job of that on a daily basis. like right now, in fact.

i usually get that feeling of lucidity when i haven't had any sleep, which has happened with some regularity recently. i tend to notice edges, as if light becomes a sort of lens, and things pop out of the background at me.

seeing that route would make me happy, too. and if i ever start a band, i'm calling it Ham and Botulism. or possibly Crudsucker. i could go either way.

birdmonster said...

Crudsucker is beautiful. You'd have to be either a) really grungy, sludge rock or b) really twee & fay. There could be no inbetween.

I sort of want to be in a band called the Worst. I think that's badical.

Imagine the possibilities: "Hello, we're the Worst. We're from San Francisco." Headline writers & critics could bend their brains over it for days. Days and days. And also days.

Gasoline Hobo said...

the Worst is pretty cool. i think it could play into the need of the critic to be contradictory. they'd be all like "i can't say they're the worst! they already called themselves that! it'd be like kicking sylvia plath! i'm going to have use the title "the Worst is the best!"

that's good planning, right there. other names to consider: Suckasaurus, the CrapTones and the Benthics.

also, i think i'd go twee, just to annoy people. i'd wear really tight suits and a bowler hat and sing songs about going for walks in marshes, but i'm sad because i forgot to pack the watercress sandwiches.

birdmonster said...

Suckasaurus are phenomenal. They're playing with my other band: System of a Ho-Down. And, of course, Crudsucker. That's the greatest bill since Rush played with Kiss. Oh wait, Rush & Kiss were the ugliest bill, not the greatest. I always get that confused.

Sasha said...

This blog should be called "I Digress".

And I mean that in a very positive way.

birdmonster said...

I took it in a highly positive way. Cogent points and linear thought are not my strong suits.