|2003-05-09 || the number of white wom -Su
Soundtrack � Booker T and the M.G�s � Soul Men
Well it is a little warmer here today. I kind of enjoy these semi-warm days where there are puddles of yellow rain all over the place. I wonder what would happen if I snorted a line of pollen? Hmmm. I need a new drug.
Last night, I accidentally discovered a website where a woman was inserting a statue of Jesus inside of her. Now if that doesn�t make an atheist hot, I don�t know what will.
I have now seen the same bottle of spring water on the side of the highway every day for over a month now. It is next to the left lane, so I can�t stop and get out to retrieve it. Anyway, it is my little friend now. Every morning while driving to work I see it, I�ve been waving to it now and again. It looks like there may be a good amount of water in it. It is a Dasani bottle. It may even be mine, as I am a compulsive littering person. Hey, as long as I�m paying high taxes to keep shit clean, I want to give these people something to do. Who wants to pay these state workers money to sit around and eat donuts and talk about the Red Sox? I certainly don�t. Fuck, I haven�t used a trash barrel in months.
Dream the other night: I�m walking around Brooklyn, NY (I have never been to Brooklyn, NY, I have no idea where Brooklyn, NY is, and I have no desire to ever go to Brooklyn, NY. As far as I�m concerned, Brooklyn, NY could be next to Albany, White Plains, Buffalo, Manahttan, Uniondale, I have no fucking idea, so don�t tell me. I know there is a bridge called the Brooklyn Bridge. I have no idea what this bridge does, I have no idea where this bridge is or what it connects, and I can�t say my life has been any better or worse not knowing anything about this thing called the Brooklyn Bridge in this place called Brooklyn, NY which I have seen in movies, which is more the reason to not ever want to go to Brooklyn NY. Why a human being would ever want to go to this place called Brooklyn, NY is beyond my comprehension) with my friend Jeremy (JDG), we are waiting to go to some gig that I guess is in Brooklyn, NY. I suggest going into this record store. After about five minutes JDG wants to leave (As long as I�ve been having orgasms with women, or rather, as long as I�ve been dating women, I�ve heard �are you almost ready?� in a record store environment countless times. Too many times. There are few women that have the patience to deal with my hours spent looking at things I need to buy in record stores. I have some male friends like this too. They go in, they know what they want immediately. �I came in to buy this shitty band that sounds like Sunny Day Real Estate because the girl at Starbucks had the pin on her messenger bag�. I can�t do that. I have no idea what I want in there�when I am out of town that is. There are Tuesdays that I show up because I need to buy something released that day. Shit, this happens all the time. �Hi, do you have the new John Mayer CD, I have to take a shit, and I would like to spend 12 dollars on toilet paper�. But when I am on vacation, or at a store I only visit periodically I want to browse for a few hours. Jodie was smart in bringing magazines when I dragged her to Oklahoma�s small circuit of record stores). So I�m standing there talking to the guys at the record store about punk rock music and mutual friends, which is odd as I�m in Brooklyn, NY. I look outside and JDG is talking to some tall punk rock girl with black dreadlocks. (I like when women have dreadlocks. I think when women have short hair they either look like a) men, b) little boys, c) guys, d) dudes, e) lesbians, f) grace jones, or rather, nothing I want to look at anyway. I have spent countless hours around women with dreadlocks and they are much friendlier than women with short hair. Women with short hair tend to have some sort of attitude problem. I think it�s because women with short hair have a subconscious desire to be men. I have theories, I have some fucking theories on this. Now punk rock women with dreadlocks are different than the women with dreadlocks I have been around in my life. As a black man, I should probably be distrustful of white women with dreadlocks. But then again, white women with dreadlocks are a lot cooler than white men with dreadlocks, especially if they sing for the following bands: Counting Crows, and umm, the Counting Crows � the worst band in the history of the world.) So he�s outside talking to this woman, and I all of a sudden come out with this big folding table that I had just bought in the CD store (this is a dream, so I can do anything right?). JDG mentions that the woman was going to cook us dinner but didn�t have any clean plates. I now have this table to carry around Brooklyn, NY with me all day and night. (Anyone who goes to concerts, or club shows or whatever it is you like to do knows the burden of carrying things around with you. I used to go to gigs with absolutely nothing. Then I needed to start sneaking drugs into the shows, so I would bring a backpack with me as a fake out. I would have the drugs down my pants, and while they dealt with this bag filled with nothing, they wouldn�t bother searching my person. In recent years I stopped doing that, as I didn�t want to deal with carrying anything around with me. On New Years Eve this year I was in New York City, which I think is in New York state to see a rather large concert by the biggest band in the world at this place called Madison Square Garden. Whereas I had no desire to stay in New York City longer than I needed to be, I brought a bag, took the train there, went to the rock concert, and went home immediately afterwards. I had a rather large bag with me, well, it was bulky once clothing was removed and put in the bag. Upon attempting to leave the concert, I was overwhelmed by a number of dreadlocked women, and New York City human beings. Yikes! I made my way to the train, where I was greeted with a nice little folding table on the train, and a walkman with fellow black man, Charles Mingus ready to lull me to sleep as I exited the city, passing by this group of bridges and train tracks and a skyline missing two gigantic buildings. There was one girl with dreadlocks on the train, and a smattering of people here and there ready to do the overnight ride home). I then woke up, not sure if we made it to the gig in Brooklyn, how I dealt with the table, or where we ate.