the loneliest punk...

i woke up this morning to the sound of a broken spaceship tunneling under my house...

insane dreams last night, many of them, not one of which i remember.

i just found out that i am going to get my ass kicked soon, which sucks, but what can you do?



okay, dreams...

i had one last week, i was in this place, it was like an airport departure area, filled with people. and just like in an airport, some of them are sitting, waiting, reading magazines, talking to others, and some are rushing around, late for something, trying to get somewhere. the thing is, this wasn't an airport, it was a dream departure area. this was the place that we all go to when we fall asleep, the place where our spirits go to leave our bodies, to go to certain dream spaces. also in this place, were people leaving for the permanent dream, death. strange, but it makes sense... in both death and dreams, your spirit exits your body, forever and for a little while, respectively. so it would make some sense that the exit point would be the same. i was in this place, i guess waiting to depart on my dream, semi-aware that i was already dreaming. there was also these giant digital screens, where all of us could look to see info about departures and arrivals, and at one point this movie started to play on one of the screens. it was like one of those fake roller coaster rides, you know the ones where it looks like you're on a roller coaster on the screen, and the seats move a little bit up and down, side to side, but you're not really going anywhere? it was like that. then, above my head, appeared the grim reaper. but not the scary, ragged-robed, dusty, you're-going-to-die grim reaper. no, this grim reaper was cartoonish, like a video game character, exaggeratedly short, with a smiling skull face and a little cartoon sickle. he hovered above us on the roller coaster screen, but i think i was the only one who could see him. i have no idea if any of this means anything, but i'd like it to mean something, because it's really cool.



(cartoon from here)

another dream...

i am in a boat. the inside of the boat is small, and looks like behind the bar at my job. i am dancing in this little boat. old school hip-hop style, like scoob and scrap lover or kid 'n play. there are a couple of other people dancing in this boat with me. one of them might be doug e. fresh. we're having a good time. later, there is a flood, or something, yes, a flood. i end up at a house, with a bunch of old school rap celebrities. yes, doug is there. and so is biz. we end up at somebody's house, i am not sure who, but they live atop a hill, so we go there to be safe from the flood. some of us then take the boat out into the waters to rescue other. i see jeff (one of my bosses) and his girlfriend grace, sitting on some dock, we pull the boat up, they get in. the dream then jumps into a completely different thing. i am alone, i am breaking into somebody's house. it's a nice house, in a nice area, high in some hills. there is a flood coming, which is why i've come to this area in the hills, to be safe. this house belongs to the neptunes. in my dream, i know them, but they're not home, but i decide to break into their house to be safe from the flood, knowing that they won't mind. now i am in the house. (strange things is, this particular house has appeared in other dreams of mine before...) i look out the back door, into the yard, over the pool, down the hills at the city. i sit in the kitchen, and i think i am making some food. i look out of the front door, and down the street, a neighbor is talking to a police officer and pointing towards the house i am in. i guess she saw me breaking in. i broke in my smashing the front door, but somehow, it is now not broken. the police officer walks up the steps to the front door. i am not worried. i can explain. i open the door. i wake up.



(photo from here)

i have more i will share with you when i remember them.

3 things to be excited about:



1. outkast's new album, i think in december.



2. pharell's solo album, i think in november.



3. fat lip's solo album, i think in october, but i've been wrong about that one before. remember when i told you all to look out for it in the summer of 2000? yeah. whoops. i don't know what's taking them so long, but i was talking to this cat ty recently, who works at delicious vinyl, and he told me it's coming out really soon. i guess i'll believe it when i see it. damn. i've been waiting.

if you want to read the old article i did on him in vice, you can peep it here, here, and here.

have you seen the spike jonze documentary on him? peep it here.



so me and the boys went to toronto last thursday and tracked the drums for all the new songs. we've got the studio together now, so progress is being made. i'll have something to share with you in the coming weeks. i am super stoked, loving what is happening. we went to our man roger's new studio, boom box. wicked set up. fuck boys!

so i've been battling the booze, winning most battles, but losing a few. my first attempt at rehab week, i managed to make it to 11 days sans alcohol. then i decided to have a few beers, then the next night i decided to drink a brewery and keep several small countries in business. going to garage sales at 10 am while still up is stupid. crashed out at like 2 pm, woke up at 7:30 pm (luckily) when i had to work at 8. yikes. went to the bar, in a strange daze, feeling like crap, but fighting through it. it didn't help that a huge brawl broke out inside the bar. some idiots were in there drinking, too many shots, and one moron pukes inside the bar. so, i ask him to leave, and he says no. no? yup, no. i say dude, you have to leave. he says, no, i am not leaving. i say dude, this isn't up for discussion. he says make me. i say dude, seriously, we're not going to argue this anymore, you have to go, and i put my hand on the back of his shoulder, at which point he decides to take a swing at me. great. i can't fight very well on a good day, but especially not when i just woke up, am half crunked, and already nauseated at my existence. he misses. i don't swing back. i get the door guys. i go back behind the bar. a few minutes later, kaboom. tables getting knocked over, broken glass everywhere ("people pissing in the street like they just don't care...." sorry, i had to throw that in there), and escalation. what starts as two of our door guys talking nicely to get one drunken asshole out of the bar, turns into one drunken asshole taking swings at our door guys, who then grab the drunken asshole, who's other drunken asshole friends then decide that they want to have some fun too, so they start to grab at our door guys, at which point chaos breaks loose and everybody's grabbing at everybody and swinging on everybody, and eventually the dudes realize the cops are on their way so they take off, knocking shit over and smashing shit. the cops get 'em up the street, and surely they all got a night in the drunk tank, and jesus, my adrenalin was going like mad so i went out back and puked in the alley. my second attempt, i made it to 8 days. then i went out on saturday night and once i got a taste... apparently i was up on a chair at the bar dancing and i am not sure why, but i woke up with a five dollar bill in my boxers, which were soaking wet from the jacuzzi. it's a life, and it's mine, and you know what, most of the time, it's not that bad.



other than that, i've been chilling. just working, trying to get these song lyrics together, jamming with the boys, and having a few beers here and there. i've also been spending way too much time on this damn computer, feeding my current obsession, researching and downloading music from france in the 60's. so good. i am in love with everything jacques dutronc.

i'll be hitting up montreal this weekend. i have to pick up my stuff. fuck, it's going to be so expensive. the whole weekend is going to cost me at least a thousand bucks, which i don't have, but have to try to pull out of my ass in the next few days. anybody want to go along for the trip?

i am writing this at some coffee pub place, filled with normals on lunch from their office jobs in the area, the ladies in their black pants that every woman in every office in the world seems to wear, talking about todd and stacey with the other black pant wearing office girls. i am going to head back home now, hopefully the broken space ship is gone.

fly casual,
ryan