Saturday – Ate Malaine’s birthday get-together in Antioch.
Sunday – Chilled w/ Kaye and Rich
>>>My
Weekend Pics [courtesy of
Kate's cam]
Previously Posted:
>>>Frisco
& Sausalito 1 of 2 [people]
>>>Frisco
& Sausalito 2 of 2 [landscape]
Kate’s @ work and I wasted hours of my life, bumming around the house, sweating, watching TV, too lazy to read, draw, color, listen to music; too lazy for consuming or producing anything creative.
I want to go outside on the 200 degree blacktop and justlay down so my back can fry and let the birds in this “urbanistic” desert eat my already fried flesh. But, I’m too lazy to go outside. The sun will burn my eyes.
I feel like one of those avid computer-gamers who spend time doing nothing but play games all the damn day, except, I’m doing nothing but nothing. It’s better than straining my eyes.
I need a friend in Sac. Someone to play video games with. Somebody to play the guitar with me. Somebody to battle with on the swingset to see who can jump the furthest. Somebody to sit at a bench with and draw dumb images. Somebody to play pogs with. Somebody to shoot marbles with. Somebody… even my imaginary friends are getting bored with me.
Perhaps this is a good idea for a
tabloid magazine cover
Imagine this. On the cover of Star Magazine, its text claims that
Tupac is alive. It’s supposed evidence is displayed as an AIM window on
the front cover with "xx 2pac ngaz xx" messaging Shug Knight "xx Holla to be
Killd xx." The message is as followed:
xx 2pac ngaz xx: ay nigga. i’m alive,
chillin in south india.
xx Holla to be Killd xx: wsup kid. how
be doin is you?
xx 2pac ngaz xx: chillin
xx Holla to be Killd xx: we thought u
wuz dead
xx 2pac ngaz xx: shut up. ima kill
you.
**somebody shoot me, please.
On the drive back to Sac from Tracy, while listening to Incubus Live in Japan 2004, I had another meditative
experience during a 10-minute "Sick Sad Little World" track.
Well, that is if meditation can coexist with a burst of excitement, a 7-minute
adrenaline rush and anxiousness. My emotions were tickled when I realized
that the Incubus concert is 21 days away. What will make this experience
different from last year’s Lollapalooza, besides their headlining tour?
FLOOR!!! I say floor because there are no seats where I’m going.
It’s called security rail.
I am going to wisely allocate my energy to wait in line for several hours,
join Kate and her family for her birthday lunch and drive to San Diego the
following morning. So…maybe you can help me with this question.
In Tracy with Kaye and Rich. And you know what? I had a weekend, thus, the, uhhhh…lack of….blogs. My ma and pa are dope. Don’t think so? Eat a sock. Kate is like this giant snorlax, taking up all the space on Kaye’s floor. I want to kick shins and make her dance.
One thing I just can’t get enough of is visits to San Francisco. I’ve always
been absolutely in love with the scenery, its history, its dynamic atmosphere.
Jay, Jun, Kate and I paid a visit and in result, tons of pictures. I’ve
posted 2 albums–one with humans and the other with textures, landscapes and
stuff. I want to live my prime (career-wise) in San Francisco and retire
in Carmel. I want to be the first resident to utilize curtains and blinds
while living at the Marina. Haha. Keep dreaming.
>>>Frisco
& Sausalito 1 of 2 [people]
>>>Frisco
& Sausalito 2 of 2 [landscape]
Jelly Belly !!! Visit Kate.
Jelly Belly factory is awesome. I got strawberry daiquiri, strawyberry shortcake and strawberry jam, along with some Harry Potter beans and sour beans. Kyle loves his gifts. Aren’t I a cool older brother? I took pictures of the factory! Camera’s were prohibited. Aren’t I a sneaky focker?
Round 2: Jeff vs.
Mary
JEFFREY (June 4, 2004 – New Orleans)
vs.
MARY (July 13, 2004 – Near Barnes & Nobles by Mary’s )
[round 1 - Mary's Bandit's vs. Jeffrey's Delay Pedal]
It’s Fictitious if You Choose to Believe
One of the great benefits of blogging–a show for self-pity. Kate’s @
work. I’m at the house alone, a house with freshly folded laundry, a tidy
loft, clean rooms and clean dishes. I’m curious to know when I will start
imagining friends.
We got an extra room to accommodate 6 imaginary friends, about 9 pillows, a good
amount of blankets, extra socks, extra toothbrushes and extra t-shirts.
All for what? You know…just in case…just in case friends come over and
forget to bring socks, toothbrush or a shirt. First things first, give
imaginary friends names. I highly doubt they’d appreciate being called
"hey! imaginary friend at the corner! pass me the remote please."
So what triggered this spite? Last night, I reorganized my bathroom, the
garage, my bookshelves and removed the junk that was neatly put away at the
corner of a wall. Well, while in my closet I saw that I had a fresh pack
of Hanes socks (yep! brand name! shows how thoughtful I am of my friends!)
and instantly, my heart dropped. I crawled to the corner of my bedroom
wall, held the package of Hanes socks close to my chest and just quivered and
cried, yelling, "Why won’t anybody visit us!? Why?! Why won’t
anybody be our friends?!"
While I was reorganizing my bathroom, I opened the cupboard (are they still
cupboards even in a bathroom?) and I saw unopened packs of toothbrushes.
This only threw more salt into my eyes and I cried a stream.
It was then I realized that, perhaps, my inept psycho insaneness must steer
people away from me. So why doesn’t a psycho like me find a friend in
Sacramento? Because when Kate and I were walking in the parking lot
yesterday, towards Wal-Mart, a guy was waiting to back his car out. He saw
us and stopped. Being the psycho, yet considerate guy that I am, I picked
up my pace and jogged across his Civic so he wouldn’t have to wait any longer.
He had the audacity to comment, "Take your time," in this hostile and
condescending tone. I turned around and we had a Clint Eastwood stare
down. Maybe I was just staring him down and he was just looking at me
regularly. Picture this: white lowered mid-90s Civic, obnoxious
diarrhea-sounding exhaust and a subtle accent in his voice. Get the
picture? Maybe his eyes and body language were saying "I so sorry for be
rude for you."
