h, the travails of the Internet Industry. The one working toilet in the men's room overflowed after my using it, though it was surely blocked by someone else before I ever got there. It looked fine, but it didn't work fine. When I flushed it the water overflowed the bowl and continued to pour forth from a stuck valve, inundanting the men's room. I have never worked so hard at mopping. I lifted at least ten gallons of water with a pathetic little sponge-ended mop. The rest soaked through the floor and caused people from the Greenskeeper sportsbar downstairs to come up and complain. Finally there's a little retribution for all the grease vapours their fryers unleash into the server room.
My mother was surfing through my musings today when she came to visit me at Comet. She was pissed about me mentioning some things about her redneck friends and she even asked me to remove them. In an effort to pacify her I said that I would, but I didn't of course and have no intention of doing so. No one seems to understand that the ultimate purpose of writing is to be read. The cool thing about these musings is that I know people are reading my work without any delay. I'm a hybrid between talk show host and reclusive novelist.
Matthew Hart also came by during the Comet shift. He had a huge mouth-shape wound in the middle of his forehead, a sort of third eye created by Leah as punishment for alleged dalliances with the beautiful young Sarah Kleiner. You could see marks left by Leah's individual teeth.
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The overall feel of this album is still thankfully that of a band that doesn't really know how to write songs but is doing it anyway, nanny nanny boo boo.
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snuck out from Comet and bought a very new Guided by Voices CD called Magnificent Earwhig. It's only a few weeks old. Back at Comet, I popped it in the CD player to give it a listen, wondering if it was worth the $13. And how about that? It has some excellent songs. Favourites for now include "I Am A Tree" and "Portable Men's Society." "I Am A Tree" is a showcase of what has changed in the band. The lineup has been augmented with competent high-fi retro cock-rockers from a Cleveland band called Cobre Verde. Precise little guitar licks are everywhere and perfectly ornament the low-fi skeletons of the songs. The rhythm occasionally picks up to nearly the frantic pace of speed metal and then drops again into half-assed four track monkey business. And now suddenly there are a few guitar solos. But they're brief and in acceptable agreement with the songs' overall concision. I notice that instead of being pervaded by the usual Guided by Voices tape hiss, many of the songs now drown in the noise of deliberately inserted drones. This is particularly true of "Portable Men's Society" where the effect is ominous like an impending invasion. Lyrically, the album is as good as any earlier. This might sound weird, but the use of the word "especially" in both "Portable Men's Society" and the immediately following "Little Lines" sets up a fascinating connection that inexplicably moves me. The overall feel of this album is still thankfully that of a band that doesn't really know how to write songs but is doing it anyway, nanny nanny boo boo.
ack at the 129 Observatory, the usual unemployed or semi-employed crowd was hanging out in the living room, eating macaroni and cheese. Meanwhile Matthew and Leah were up in their room with one of Leah's sisters and her friends. Matthew was in a bad mood. He was particularly upset by the fact that the unemployed folk were now eating his food without even the pretense of hesitation, as if by right. But he had a solution. A small refrigerator had been moved into his room and had already been stocked with beer. Later I threw in my chunk of Swiss cheese stolen from the magic refrigerator in Staunton. This new refrigerator has been reserved for use by those who actually purchase food in our household. Matthew's aggravation was contagious. I'd been making up little silly songs with lyrics like "come on people now / party with me / jump up now people / and party with me." Now I too was grumbling about the slackers in the living room.
Aggravated as we were, we picked up the keg of Red Hook ESB for tonight's party. The guy at the JPA Fastmart was tediously slow in his movements. I hate people who buy cigarettes and lottery tickets. They need to go back to school and learn how to have fun.
nce the keg was tapped, troubles and complaints suddenly seemed less relevant.
But the party never really materialized. Matthew had feared we'd need another keg of Beast Ice. Not to worry. We have no friends, apparently. Indeed, more people showed up Friday night when there was no keg. Possibly the incident in which Matthew was bitten by Leah scared off most of the Tandem crowd. I've become some sort of sworn enemy of the Dynashackians, so none of them came (besides, I hadn't told any of them). The only people not in our immediate scene who showed up in force were from the brick mansion in the 'hood: Ami Sage and Sam. Now I present a list of notable things that happened:
- Cory the Coffee Cart girl came by. My housemates all have been waiting for the big moment when I finally get laid. This moment has yet to arrive, at least at 129 Observatory. But everyone seemed to think the victim would be Cory, especially once we disappeared behind the door of my room. But really, all we did was talk about the time we first met. I hadn't made the connection, but I vividly recall that rainy day a year ago when I was hitch hiking down 20 to Big Fun. Cory and her hippy boyfriend picked me up in their truck and even drove me down that long driveway. I went on to introduce them to the Big Funsters on the front porch. I believe Matthew Hart and Jessika even gave Cory and friend a tour of the house, which was by then in permanent blackout.
- Some particularly dorky friends of Matthew and Leah showed up. One of these is an Oberlin student. Both are very much into computers. Matthew Hart made a good natured attempt to humiliate them on videotape by interviewing them about various things, using a vintage (and somewhat art-deco) two button IBM PS/2 mouse as a mock microphone. The friends stayed until the cops came.
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I was pretty sure our pathetic little party wasn't going to register anywhere near 55 decibels, and I regretfully assured him all would be tranquil.
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- Yes, as lame as our party was, the cops were called. Such a thing never would have happened on Wertland Street, where seemingly hundreds would turn out for Dynashack parties. The cop came to the door and asked to talk to "someone who lives here." That was me. He said that if he received another complaint, he would come with a sound meter, and if we exceeded 55 decibels, we'd all be summoned. I was pretty sure our pathetic little party wasn't going to register anywhere near 55 decibels, and I regretfully assured him all would be tranquil. He must have had a good laugh back in the cruiser. No doubt the fuzz was called by Lorna, the woman in 128 across the street. She has complained about Buttnoodle's "audible" barking on two occasions in the past.
- Most of my goth friends showed up. Theresa has broken up with Persad and is now flagrantly doing the butt with the boy Jesse. Things are more complex than that, though; Jesse was also seen making out with Leticia the Brazilian Girl. Leticia isn't much into that mushy stuff, though. Jesse had to pay for affection with damage. She tore him up with her nails.
- I was doing some kind of rough dancing with Cecelia the Brazilian Girl. This was her last night in Charlottesville before she moves to New York. She was in an unusually vicious mood. I believe she is the author of scratches on my neck and left arm.
- A couple of strange guys (an unlikely pair consisting of a redneck and a black guy) turned up. The black guy claimed to know me but I didn't know him at all. The only thing they wanted to do was smoke pot. While they did so in my room, Leah came marching up and demanded "Who the FUCK are you and who the FUCK do you know?" They smiled and said something uninformative and she said that if she was crashing a party she'd do exactly the same thing.
- Matthew and Leah were getting along so well with Sam that they let him sleep in their bed with them.
See some images captured from video on this day.
