Oh Joy!
2003-07-22 || Genghis Jon x 8
Soundtrack � Zoot Sims � Jazz Alive! A Night at the Half Note

Okay already-the guy from cable, or rather the Dish Network came by to fix the dish that the group of Mariachis doing the roofing fucked up somehow. Anyway, he walked up a steel ladder to the roof to play with this metal thing on the roof. I then heard thunder and lightning. My first instinct was to get my camera. I would love a picture of an electrocuted cable guy. The newspapers would pay a pretty penny for that type of shit. I avoided the bong for the morning and made my way here � to feel like shit, yet feel like I have Ritalin inside me again. I�ve managed to get a lot done today in the hour or so that I�ve been here as usual. This means I will have to stretch the day out and find things to do. I find that most people stretch their work day out anyway. I put a freeze on overtime for the people who work for me not because we can�t afford it, but because there�s no reason it can�t fucking be done in 40 hours. The union can suck my dick if they don�t like it.

Richard Thompson is in Boston.

There is not one good movie out in the theatre that I want to see right now. I kind of wanted to go to the theatre by myself tonight. Swimming Pool is the closest thing I could see I think.

�The night Charlie fucked Kim Evans�

In a sweltering apartment in August � enjoy the ritual. Enjoy the redundancy that is yer life. How they go on and on and on and on like that is beyond comprehension. Any changes are a big fucking exhausting fucking deal. Any new ideas are shot down or just not even looked at. Anytime someone or something new is presented it can�t be. It can�t be. Come home and jerk off into the toilet, make sure there are no random leftovers. Shit happens. When I look outside I see all sorts of new things to do, and new places to go. Too many ideas to deal with in 24 hours. 3:30 AM a bed covered in music and instruments and cigarettes and ashtrays and clothes and magazines and newspapers from around the country and books. Men outside wait to come into my room and apprehend my thoughts briefly. If a night goes by where I don�t see them out of the corner of my eye I will be very surprised. If a night goes by where I don�t think about Texas I�ll be surprised-you know, like a big open road with nobody around and a stereo spitting out slavery and heartbreak and alcohol.

Ladies and Gentlemen, a white person has entered the building with a broken heart. Light his sweater on fire. Light his homoerotic hairdo on fire. Take a knife to his face. Do not kill the skinny white man. All skinny white men should be killed. All skinny people should be shot in the face over and over with a meat gun. Do not hurt the skinny white man, he can attract gymnasts and whores.

Why are they all afraid of who they will offend or who they will attract. I hope I can offend, attract, repel, and make those little invitations (okay, 3rd grade in Massachusetts, my teacher is named Mrs Rice. I have a crush on her, perhaps cause she�s young. Thinking back, she was probably in her 20�s or so. I decide to make her one of those Valentine cards. On the day we are supposed to bring them in and trade them I hide hers and never give it to her. None of the girls in my class give me any Valentines. � at this point in my life I am getting shit on by women already. Years later, in 6th grade I kissed a smoke mouthed Coleen K behind the school for the first time) to send to people in those little mini envelopes. The only thing I am afraid of is death at this point. This is all so much fun, I don�t want it to end. I want to live forever. I want to live for the rest of eternity. I want to never die (in 5th grade they send me to this guy Mr Lazar to check me out. To see why I am hyperactive and see why I don�t listen to anyone at all. He eventually gets fed up with me just saying �I don�t know� over and over and sends me to this Jewish man who ate sauerkraut in a little tub and would show me drawings, and ask questions about my parents. I was apprehensive of telling him how many drugs my parents were doing�so I didn�t {I LEARNED IT FROM WATCHING YOU!!!!!}�this guy eventually got fed up with the communication issues as well. ��sorry, we don�t know what�s wrong with him�). I look at pictures of me as a little boy, that little boy didn�t want to die. That little boy wanted to �

I sold my copy of that new White Stripes record already, same with Radiohead. I can�t look forward anymore. I can only look backward. They did it. The black people did it I tell you. The pioneers of indie rock did it too. What else?

Hi, my parents are on drugs, and I will be a waste 29 years from now, want to come over and play?

before & after