|2003-07-07 || Mr. Peanut - on fires
soundtrack � Coleman Hawkins � Body and Soul
This weekend is thankfully fucking over. The long weekends are just that, long. I look forward to returning to work and being around 4 people rather than being out and about around drunk infidels in downtown Salem. For five dollars, you can get some pussy that tastes like Las Vegas in downtown Salem Massachusetts around this time of year.
For the Fourth of July, Independence Day for those who don�t know, I sat in a nice air conditioned movie theatre with a bunch of old Jews and watched a documentary on a family in crisis after the father and one of the sons were convicted of molesting little boys called Capturing the Friedmans, which was pretty intense, depressing, disturbing, and uncomfortable, but just what I needed to kick off the holiday weekend.
Yesterday, I had lunch with a young lady I dated last summer, it was nice to catch up and see her again for a brief 90 minutes or so � the blackened chicken pasta was not very good. I have remained friendly with all of the women I have dated up to a point. Usually when they marry, or move far away. Other than that, I find no reason to have sour relationships between two people just because one of us decided we didn�t want to be a certain way. Sure your ego can be broke for a short period of time, but for the most part, heartbreak should be an easy emotion 33 years into this thing. Who has time when there are all these amazing records recorded in the 40�s to listen to?
Saw some fireworks from afar on the 4th of July, or rather two different displays of fireworks off in the distance and imagined the ooh�s and ah�s that accompany such a hackneyed tradition. Men and women holding hands, some asshole playing the broadcast of the Boston Pops on a shitty Sanyo one speaker TRANSISTOR RADIO, mosquitoes sucking on you harder than a junior varsity cheerleader sucks the DNA out of a quarterback�s swollen fuck stick, children running around with sparklers, and old cottonheaded women with green shorts on looking at their watches. I have successfully avoided a couple of these types of crowd swelling events in the past year now. Halloween in Salem last year I avoided about as much as one can by living in Salem, which is living where I live, nowhere near downtown�and now avoiding any sort of long walk with lines of people on the sidewalk to watch the fireworks on display. I did somehow manage to be in New York City on New Years Eve and miss a number of huge crowds though. I�m done with the sights and the smells of all of those types of things at this point now. Not for any sort of �I hate people� bullshit, but because these things are about as anticlimactic as a Bjork record. If at the end of a fireworks display Suzanne Somers circa 1981 came out and blew Gene Simmons on a barge on the Hudson River I would go to that, but if I�m just gonna walk back to my car and itch my legs on the drive home, I�d rather stay home and drink wine by myself.
I am in the market for a car stereo, as the one that came with my new auto is not sufficient enough for me. I want to be one of those obnoxious people with the bass that rattles windows and wakes up college students living in the cheap areas of the city. Not to listen to bad hip-hop and techno, but to play Ronnie James Dio, Ozzy Osbourne, Queensryche, and King Crimson. Imagine the disgust of someone waking in the middle of the night as I drive by there house rattling their windows listening to �Jet City Woman�? Can you imagine it? Well try to anyway.
I somehow watched a good portion of XXX with Vin Diesel tonight. The movie had him in it, I didn�t watch it with him in my presence if that�s what you thought I meant. The movie wasn�t that good interestingly enough.
What�s not to love about tuxedo cats?
If you happen to see this a whole lot:
it�s highly doubtful you see this a whole lot: