Coolest version of a Dramarama song to date?
Anything, Anything, by Buckcherry.
What? You don't know Dramarama?
Must not have lived in New Brunswick, NJ in the 80's. And early 90's. It was pretty much all the shore scene for me after that.
My best friend is very sick. He's had a splattering of his intestines removed.
He called me from the hospital. He has his own pain-killer button, and doesn’t even use it.
We’ve both agreed that drugs aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, I guess. I sent him balloons.
Why?
Apparently they don’t accept lap-dancing go-go dancers in lieu of flowers for men with catheters.
Oops.
For those of you looking for inspiration, for those of you in ever doubt, I urge you to seek the St.Crispian's Day speech from Henry V. You will emerge enlightened and energized and enabled once anew. Alas, most will past this post by.
These words are to what I aspire.
Especially when it hits "the few, we happy few, we band of brothers" verse. My god...If not so jaded I'd still blink a tear.
"This day is called the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian:'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispin's day.'
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day: then shall our names.
Familiar in his mouth as household words
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember'd;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day!!!"
Why are those close to me crumbling in health and wealth? Was my 2005 decision to hoard money prophetic? Was my 2004 decision to eat more veggies and fruit both fertile and Viagra-esque? I’ll let you know from my 4 bdrm, 3 bath house in Stone Harbor.
Next on my travel list? New Orleans, Orange Co., LA and Ft. Worth, TX.
Great.
I'm sure that won't lead to any weird new entries later in July or early August.
Has housekeeping found that sex act shattered glass yet? Nice leg swing, rizzo.
Just got my haircut (no this is not a Twitter entry).
Why is it notable, then?
Maybe it was because it’s the first time I’ve ever driven anywhere in Red Bank (I correctly anticipated a thunderous storm, so I decided to drive and not get soaked.)
Maybe it’s because just as I reached the door of xxxxxxxx, I realized I only had $40 on me – not quite enough for a haircut and an Alicia-worthy tip ; )
Maybe it’s because as I left the ATM, the sky opened up, drenching me in buckets of rain far from my car, negating my premonition of the storm. So much for preparation. Or, maybe not...
Clouds break, rainbow appears high in the eastern sky.
Maybe it’s because two of the girls (I’m sorry, young women) went at me with hair dryers when they saw how soaked I was. That felt fucking sweet, as it was overpoweringly air conditioned indoors and the warm air and hands felt pretty damn good on my legs, arms and chest. Every part of my body feels like it just got laid, except for my hang’n’it. There? Swampy, which will need to be corrected post haste via a lather-esque shower. But anyway...
Maybe that will preqil a visit to the Tiki Bar later. Who am I kidding? I'd rather let ride. So to speak.
I think the haircut went well, too. It looks OK, even with all the smooth and sticky products she massaged into me once she was done with the scissors and clippers.
I guess I’ll find out after I sleep on it, if I can look myself in the mirror tomorrow.
OK, this is weird. I'm at 30 Rock, looking down on Coldplay in the Plaza. Chris just held the mike out to the crowd to help him sing a "way-oh-oh-oh" thing. The only other times I've seen that work with success is with U2 and Bruce.
I’ve worked at shitholes with shitheads, I’ve worked at palaces with princesses.
I think the time is coming to bail and work on the beach. Or at least with it within a windowsill view. (Is not windowsill a wonderful word packed with potential?)
Gather texts from a few years ago. Twiz them into some short stories.
Maybe relocate to Stone Harbor/Avalon.
Maybe New England. Maybe Old England. NYC isn’t going anywhere, neither is LA, SanFran or even Cabo.
The difference between wannabes with stars in their eyes and me?
I have 20 years of 50 page journals in the bank, and 5 years of pulp online.
OK, here’s a quick thing I wrote after a meeting last weekend:
The thing about traveling to Orlando is that one of my favorite human beings in the history of my life lives within 20 minutes of where I sit.
The only reason I speculate, consider and contemplate Ann is because she was one of the first ones there in the darkest of days. Where I saw desperation, she saw fascination. When Kara bailed, Ann rowed. Where I saw Cobain, she saw Burroughs. I'm far from either of the above. But someone saw something in me. That's the last glint of hope I had, and have. She warned me to be wary of Christine. She has always told me to write. This is churning through my head as...
I’m here for a presentation for almost exactly 24 hours, which includes an 8 AM on stage moment to 200 of the world’s top gastro docs. So I can’t be tired and hungover tomorrow. Not that it would happen, but it basically means that I’m not going to see Ann on this particular trip. Probably for the best. Last time I went to meet a fave, it didn’t end well. It might have, but my legendary moodiness and fear of even the slightest whiff of commitment kicked in with the mojo of a rutting bull sprinting from the very musk that lured him. In other words, I’m afraid I’m not in a friendly, titratable xanax and alcohol and Chinese food situation. Phoenix, the hottest city in the US, was cooler than I thought. I rue the night I ruined it.
If you would have told me 10 years ago that I’d have a phone that could do anything I was doing on the net a thousand times faster in 1/100th the size I’d have sounded MAGIC! Guess what? My George Foreman Grill cooks hot dogs that much faster. I can’t wait till 10 years from now, when I can eat pizza from a phone in one second.
The new iPhone they gave me Monday night at the concert comes with weird map stuff. I can see my neighborhood in my hand.
