Okay, for anyone who hasn't read the posts: I don't really have a stalker, it was just some dumb girl (or boy, hey let's be pc) that really liked my name. We aren't sure if they had some sort of dissability, but nothing has been proven to the contrary. In other news, did anyone know you can't register a restraining order if you don't know the person's name (yeah anonomous internet, but DRATs at the same time).
Can't fuckin wait to jam with the guys. Hopin that the day after Christmas I'll be able to set up my stuff and let loose with Blake and Con doin the exact same thing. I have been havin fantasies of recording with our guy again. We show up with some stolen loot and trade it for some recording time. During which we rock the casbah and our guy gets excited that we're sounding real good and offers to do all the mixing for free, so we can keep recording until I have to go up to Seattle and Blake has to go to Humboldt. And then he keeps sending us copies of possible mixes in the mail so we can say "bring the kick drum a little higher, and maybe add some preverb to the toms like you did on track 3." Ah, fantasies!
Funny thing happened to me. I forgot all the riffs that I sent down here. I recorded them, and I brought the tapes, but I have no idea how to play them. Well, Con has a better ear, and he'll figure out what I wrote somehow. And now I am just wasting your time, so as a reward, go check out the games at this site, they are pretty mindless, but hey so is TV and at least with these you don't suddenly get the urge to buy a $30,000 luxury sedan, or a bigmac with extra cheese. All things considered, you should definitely check out www.makaimedia.com and go to their games section.
Bought a better computer the other day. It's sweet and fast. Lots of space. Excellent.
Well today I had work, only it didn't seem like work, because instead of serving rich people their rich coffee, I washed windows for almost all my shift. I stood outside with s squeegee, a wet rag, and a bottle of 'blue "like windex" window cleaning solution.' I did windows about ten feet higher than I am tall, and ones down next to the floor. It was really quite fun. I was outside breathing the most crisp and fresh air I have ever had the pleasure of wrapping my lungs around, and I didn't have to deal with any stupid customers. Even better a few of the cool customers that I like talked to me and cracked some jokes about Ren being a slave driver (he's not, but it's still funny, yet depressing, because ren is to stoopid to be a slave driver).
I am going to take a nap in a few, then try and clean up my apartment, then figure out my landlord's phone number that way we can talk about the financing of my loftbed. I am hoping that he'll be willing to pay for the materials (or at least take it out of my rent), or at least half of the materials. It only makes sense, because we are going to leave the bed here so that he'll be able to rent the apartment faster. This place is only 10'?X13' and not all that is usable space (kitchenette & Refridgerator).
So there's nothing much else goin on. Oh, except that the internet is a sick sad horrible place and that no one should ask me why it is.
It's not weird because it was long and drawn out, or didn't make sense, or it was creepy, or anything like the rest of my normal dreams. This dream was weird because of the things I felt while I was dreaming. CHECKOUTTHEDREAM