I. Am in a mood.
The emo, full of the weepy melodies & introspective lyrics, has been put on hold .
Instead, loud walls of sound rule.
The Jesus Lizard. Jawbox. Mudhoney.
I�m rocking out like it�s 1994 and people are still asking �Rivers who?�
You know, I saw The Jesus Lizard play in 1993. And it made very happy.
What I remember most? There was a mic stand in the corner, right next to the screaming David Yow, pointing at him. It had a black sheet over it and it wasn�t supposed to look like the Grim Reaper.
But it did.
And I bought a T-shirt.
At that time, I never had money for swag, but my two best music-geek friends at the time loaned me the 20 bucks, and I held onto it tight all night. It was special night having David Yow all screaming evil right in front of me. I wanted to remember that with a little souvenir.
When I got home, I set the T-shirt on my dresser at home. I went to sleep.
When I woke up it. It was gone.
I know my roommates had no interest in it. They were too busy doing their hair.
To this day, I have no idea where it went.
And now, in other news, I am caught in a living, breathing episode of COPS, people.
The fireman who lives across the hall came in very early this morning screaming.
�Fuck you! And Fuck that shit! What? Does that excite you? Do you get off on that? Do you want to see me killed?�
From what I could tell, some sort of pub-brawl went down earlier. And his girlfriend started it. And he had to finish it.
He was screaming. She was screaming right back.
It was almost 2:00 am.
Apparently they did not have a happy St. Patty�s day, and I am so glad they decided to come home to work it all out.
I fell back asleep, ignoring the domestic dispute.
But, next time, I think, I am gonna get a hold of the theme from COPS. And I am gonna blast that through the walls.
And maybe if he all hears, �bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do?�
Perhaps he will Shut. The fuck. Up.
And I can get some rest.
But I am telling you, people. If you happen to be watching COPS filming in the Chicagoland area and you see a drunk-ass screaming moron in skivvies being pulled out of an apartment over some spendy art-shop in the near future�
That�s the fireman.
The brown eyes you see peeking through the blinds above? That�s me. I�ll be laughing.
Why can�t the fireman be a nice, quiet, jovial drunk, like me?
Oh, and someone puked on my car Saturday night.
Yeah, I know what you�re thinking � where�s the punchline, annfrankenstein?
Sorry kids, there ain�t no punchline. All that shit�s not funny. Especially when I had to come home tonight to hear the loud shrieks of make-up sex coming through the heating vent.
< sarcasm > I am soooooo glad I am living next door to the dysfunctional fireman whose relationships thrive on drunken brawls and chaos. < /sarcasm >
But then again, what really, is left to do but laugh?
I mean besides turning up the Jesus Lizard then turning to the sky to ask, �Where the hell is my goddamn T-shirt?�