Holy fucking shit, dear reader…it’s 126°F. Birds are falling dead from the sky, and the otherwise robust air conditioning unit in The Shed is really struggling to make things habitable. Word count is significantly higher than the temp, so I suppose that is a good thing, and especially impressive given this ridiculously oppressive conditions.
N.P.: “Insomnia 2021 – Epic Edit” – Maceo Plex, Faithless
Governor Dipshit has “reopened” California but inexplicably refuses to end the state of emergency he instituted as a result of the pandemic. Section 8629 of the Emergency Services Act provides that the Governor “shall proclaim the termination of a state of emergency at the earliest possible date that conditions warrant.”
Rather than addressing any of these questions, Dipshit has been busy working with a Pro-Dipshit campaign to attempt to get some if not most of the more than 2.1 million pissed off California voters who have Had Enough. This campaign yielded one withdrawn signature (out of the 215,000 signatures in Orange County) by the time the deadline to withdraw signatures passed last week. The truth is that without the extra powers provided by the State of Emergency, this idiot is done, and he knows it.
N.P.: “When You Fall” – Gary Numan
The first sunstorm of the season is imminent in The Creek. At least four days of 115°F+ with lows at night dropping into the balmy mid-90s. We are not amused.
N.P.: “L’école du Rock ‘n’ roll” – Faust 72
I was going to a bit of bitching here tonight, but I am just spent. Did a lot of work today, most of which amounted to shit. Did a little bit of work on the Irreparably Unpublishable Novel, but nothing great. Mondays consistently disappoint.
N.P.: “Another One Bites The Dust” – Die Krupps
The Angst is upon me again, charming reader, and I take umbrage. I’ve got enough on my existential platter without having to deal with The Goddamn Angst.
N.P.: “Mask” – Sepultura, Devin Townsend
I have no comment on this day. But we can certainly talk about yesterday.
I’m kidding…we can’t talk about yesterday.
N.P.: “Give It Everything You’ve Got” – Edgar Winter’s White Trash
You ever get so busy for such a prolonged period of time that you not only forget what day it is, but what week and month? There’s a lot of that going on over here, dear reader. What sucks is going through the trouble of figuring out what day and month it is, only to realize that it doesn’t matter. Oh, it’s Saturday…so what? It doesn’t make any difference: Saturday, Tuesday, and every other day are pretty much indistinguishable from each other lately. It only makes Time go more quickly, and Time was already rather out of pocket well before this latest weirdness.
N.P.: “So May We Start (feat. Simon Helberg)[from “Annette”]” – Sparks, Adam Driver, Marion Cotillard
Reviewed by Jayson Gallaway on 9 June 2021 .
out of 5
Lazy Dog Restaurant & Bar™ has shit wings. If I teach you only one thing today, let it be this: Lazy Dog has shit wings. Absolute garbage. They were far more reptilian than avian, and I’m not being hyperbolic: the last piece of meat that I gnawed on for over a half-an-hour before giving up due to a general lack of noticeable progress and complete mandibular exhaustion was alligator. On a stick. I would have had easier time eating the stick. [It was so weird, dear reader…a week after the gator incident (which took place at a Bayou by the Bay Food & Music Orgy), I found myself having a Saturday lunch at a high-end restaurant in downtown SF, just north of Market, and the special that day was crocodile. But it was ground crocodile, served in sort of mini-meatball form, so the chewiness wasn’t an issue, and I remember I thought it tasted great. I also remember I was heroically drunk, so anything I was eating I thought tasted great, regardless of reality. One of the people I was having lunch with seemed surprised that I (or anyone, for that matter) would order crocodile for lunch, and I slammed down my whiskey (just to emphasize the state of things) and said, “Ha…last week, I ate alligator. On a steek.” I then held forth for the better part of an hour about how I enjoyed eating things that would otherwise eat me, that I preferred to feed on apex predators. Somebody asked why that was, and then I launched into my whole spiel about how a vegetarian once tried to scare me vegan by telling me that you inherit the dreams of the animals you eat, which instead of having the intended effect only served to increase my intake of animal flesh…I just started eating cooler animals. Shark and swordfish began making regular appearances on the menu, plus the prenominate dinosaurs…I don’t remember what else. I then discovered that no one at the table was an ardent fan of Highlander because they all blatantly tuned out during the next part of my oratory, which was completely Highlander-intensive. I expounded drunkenly about The Quickening and how there can be only one and the whole deal, but I’d lost them. I ended up going out on the fire escape for a little air and witnessing a car theft.] Anyway, don’t eat the wings at Lazy Dog: they’re shit.
N.P.: “Every 1’s a Winner – 12″ Version” – Hot Chocolate
Today was a fine day. Which I needed, because the next three days are likely to be shit. Or maybe not. That could just be my shitty attitude of hopeless negativism. I’m supposed to view the next three days…every day, really…as gifts. Which I suppose they are. Whatever. Who cares. Today was a fine day.
N.P.: “Battle Flag” – Pigeonhed
More learning the new software today. I’m actually really enjoying learning this latest update: this software is robust, and I think is exactly what I need to start assembling these books. I was thinking I might do an annotated version of Jekyll & Hyde, just to get handy with the software, but it’s going so well, I think I’m just going to dive in with my books.
N.P.: “Working On It” – Chris Rea