Process and timewise

Headspace

I remember how the darkness doubled

I recall lightning struck itself

Months Away...

It seems that my absence has spanned many days, to be specific, back towards 

the end of February.  What a strange and terrifying reminder of 

the perpetuating tumor of idleness!  

Regardless.

catch y'all on the flip side.

It's TUESDAY

Recording a shit load of tracks lately.

New song almost out of the womb.

The labor pains are strong, and this song is kicking us all in the collective uterus every chance it gets what with random drum clicks, strange static we thought we erased, and general nonsense that comes with the territory of attempting to record a song in your living room.


But whatever.

It's.....OUTFIT TIME!

outfit details:

Ratty T-Shirt: thrifted from some amazing Goodwill Outlet store that charges you BY WEIGHT.  And it didn't even have lice!

High Waisty Shorts:  Alloy

Black Cardigan: some dollar store in Queens

Striped Tights: Target

Socks:  Mountain Hiking Socks

Shoes:  Boots from Santa

You can see this exact same picture on lookbook.nu when I decide to post it!  

What? Winter? Pssshh!

My Christmas List went largely ignored by the general public,  and most especially the public directly responsible for buying me presents.

Way to go, guys.

However, eff that.  The best present I could ever possibly ask for is that it is February, and February is mercifully short and has slowly been injecting light back into the world.  Oh, that's right February, I have been taking notice.  Your greatness has not escaped this bedraggled individual.

OH AND GOOD NEWS

Bed Lush has a new song!  It's called "Honey Thunder" and it's real fun to spin around really fast to!

http://www.myspace.com/bedlush

gogogo!

Christmas List 2010

It's so exciting to start a Christmas list with such a beautifully Sci-Fi year attached. 

2010 was so easy to say.  It's a shame the apocalypse didn't hit this year...future humans would have relished the ease with which the date and THE event of the century coincided.

Regardless.  

Humanity has not been reduced to ashes and scraggly things, so as far as I'm concerned, Santa Clause is still coming to town.  And this is what I want him to bring me.

 Gemma Slack.  Anything by Gemma Slack.  Even that amazingly terrifying Hannibal Lector face mask.  I'll wear it to the grocery store on a late night grab for soy milk, I swear it.

and

I'm a consumer.  

I'm sorry.

I'm also a murderer since I killed The Dude's computer, so we need a new one because as grateful as I am for this supplicant Eee PC...I've been spoiled by the lure of "Technology for Idiots" that Apple has so perfected and can't turn back now.  

Some form of a 60 key semi weighted MIDI controller keyboard so I can herald the gods down from their lofty encampments just beyond the reach of man into the faces of The Unworthy Mortals.  Even if it's my own face I'm flaunting this in front of.  Or the cats.

Either way...a must have.

 

A seven toed, gray Maine Coon kitten that I can dress up in various neck scarves and take outside and train to come when I call "Lucifer!"  I already had a dream about this cat so it's obvious to me that it is only a matter of time.

This list includes several other things, but I can't bring Lightning Hopkins back to life or stuff the entirety of Radiohead in my closet with all that other things I've got in there already, so maybe next year.

Moe

 

This is, in my opinion, an unsung hero.

While it is true that anyone worth their salt knows that Maureen Tucker is a pure genius, knows that her influence is what made The Velvet Underground the legendary band that it grew to be, that without that golden, driving heartbeat Lou and John could never have soared to Iconography Land...I still feel as though the wealth of talent that is Moe Tucker should be more of a household name.

Any kid that ever bangs on a plastic shelf of a high chair should do so with her face at the bottom of the baby food bowl.

Just to drive the point home.

We who are about to die, O Tyrant of the Tom Tom, O Sultan of the Snare, salute you.