:09

Here's something that bugs me:

People who use the company microwave, but then leave the door open and the clock still sitting at :09.

If you're gonna use it, please, close the freakin' door and reset the timer. And if cheese from your sub sandwich spills inside the microwave (or butter from the microwave popcorn or soup that boiled over), please clean that up as well. Your mom doesn't work here (and if she does, she probably has better things to do than to go around to all the microwaves and clean them and close their doors and reset their timers for you.. and this shouldn't be the case even if she is part of the cleaning crew).

This also goes for you Mr. or Mrs. Missed Putting The Paper Towel Into The Garbage Can But I'll Just Leave It On The Floor For The Maintenance People To Pick Up.

Weird Dream - 11-18-2006

So, when I get really stressed, I tend to have really weird dreams. Here's the latestest installment which had 3 parts.

Part 1: Poor Kitty
The first part of my dream happened at 'my house' (ie, in my head it was my house, but it really wasn't my house). I remember looking as Lisa, our tabby cat who looks like this but a bit bigger, and was worreid because she was meowing weirdly. I told my wife this and she said we should probably have that looked at. Then I decided that I wanted to wash my hair, but i wanted to used a wash cloth, more specifically, a blue one. This was significant for some reason unknown to me. I went downstairs and found one in a pile clean laundry. I went upstairs and was happy that I found the wash cloth. And then that part ended.

Part 2: Trailer in the Woods
For some reason I was with my friend Brad at a trailer in the middle of the woods, but just off of a lake. We were yakking about somthing when he announced that he was going fishing. So he took out this cane fishing pole and just kinda threw the hook in the water, put the pole on the ground and then just walked away and started talking to me again. Wwe talked a while when i looked over and saw the bobber moving around so I said 'hey.. you have a bite I think'. So he picked up the pole and pulled out a huge bluegill that was about 2 feet in length. (Most of the ones I have ever caught were like 6 inches long.) He threw back then fish and put the hook back into the water and walked away again. And again, eventually the bobber would bounce around and I would tell him and he pulled out another large bluegill. At some point after this, I went into the trailer where Courtney Force was blabbing on and on about her boyfriend for whatever reason. I just sat there and looked at her funny for about 5 minutes wondering what she was talking about. And then that part ended.

Part 3: Bill Cosby is My Dad
The next part is pretty freakin' weird. I found myself in the middle of a warehouse, similar to a Sam's Club, with my daughter in two in her carrier. I was watching this big display of large plasma screen tvs when Bill Cosby approached me. In my dream, he was my dad. WTF? But it is what it is. So were watching these plasma screens which were showing what I would assume was one of those tv celeb gossip shows like Extra or Access Hollywood.

Two guys were next to the TVs and talking about a new moive that George Lucas had made. It was similar to the Star Wars franchise. Anyhoo, they were discussing how they were confused by Lucas' latest decision to release the movie on Super 8 film. They dicussed that there was no way that the nevel of detail that went into the movie could be seen in that format. They then discussed how Bill Cosby had 'supposedly' done the narration on the intro. The one looked at the other and said 'but you know he really didn't do it' meaning that he hadn't done the narration on the movie intro.

I looked at Bill and he seemed confused. I turned my attention to the stupid TV and there was a story about how Michael J. Fox had been part of this Lucas film, but he backed out when he found out that it wasn't going to premiere at a certain film festival. It then cut to him arriving at another film festival in a little red british polive car with the siren wailing. He was hanging out the the window holding a drawning he had done. On this drawing, was a picture of him hanging out of a british poilice car holding a B&W picture of a monster that looked simiar to the monster in the Bugs Bunny cartoon. He handed the drawing to a fan and then got out of the car and went somewhere.

At this point Bill Cosby got close to my ear and mumbled something "mmmmnn nu mmmmin n mm da mm", to which I said "What?". He then repeated it and this time, though still really muffled, he said, "Why don't you go ahead and get lunch. I don't know how long I'm gonna be. Go ahead and leave her here and I'll catch up with you at home". So I said, "Ok". So I handed him the carrier and walked away. As I was walking away, Bill said to make sure that I put the remote control on the stand when I left. At some point I had picked up a remote control of some sort. So I walked to the front of the building where, 30 feet back from the sliding door, there was a brown leather recliner and one of those round table / standing lamp combos right next to it. I carefully put the remote on the table and wondered for a second 'why the hell do I need to put the remote here' and then I left.

And then I woke up... obviously I was confused. I though that this was a decent dream so I quickly jotted down notes on a few post it notes before the haze of waking up had worn off.

The end.

Resurrection

I guess I am going to resurrect my blog here, for no particular reason other than a couple of my friends have blogs and they exist on the blogger.com farm.

Most of the time, my posts will be odd observations.

For example:
The other day I was driving to work when I saw a Dodge Neon. A plain-jane, off the lot, stock Neon. Why is this of any interest? Well, because this Dodge Neon had spinners. Just because you put spinners on your car, doesn't mean that it automatically makes your car cool. Actually, it just makes you look like a dork.

Yeah... ummm.. not much going on here.

But Devilcake still rocks!

Devilcake played Ruby Tuesday last night. Devilcake is still cool. Check out the gig diary here: http://devilcake.blogspot.com/

Devilcake is cool.

We had a show last night.

Read about it (and other gigs) here: http://devilcake.blogspot.com/

yeah... i'm still over at LJ. not sure why you're looking here. btw, i probably haven't posted on LJ either.

c ya!

------------:D

Okay... the reason for my long absense is that, well, I just happened to catch LiveJournal on a bad day when I made my comments on LiveJournal previously. Now, I like it alot. Most of da band is over there was well.

I'm here now. See ya on da other side.

------:D

Sorry it's been so long. I've just been busy and lazy.

First off, I have to say that I hate LiveJournal. I have never seen such a horrible site since the early days of GeoCities. I still have yet to see one of the four identical posts that I supposedly sent in. I would hit submit and it would say that it failed and I would hit it again. Four times I did this and it turns out that it took them all... I think. They never showed up on the main page, but if you went to the calendar view, it showed four. So with Blogger I will stay until they get their shit together.

Next,
We've been re-recording the album. We had about 5 songs done, but there were a few that none of us were happy with, so last weekend we re-recorded the drum tracks for those that failed and the remainder of the album. I think they cam out prett good. We will have to see how they hold up under a few layers of guitar, bass, keys and vox. Sometimes you discover late in the game that the snare wasn't miked heavily enough and it just doesn't sound right. But there's always some EQ work that can fix that.

We plan on recording another set of Gourley's solo album this weekend. The last set of songs we did came out pretty good. Now we only need 6 or 7 more.

We were hoping for a gig on Saturday with Stainless Mind, but they never responded to our email. Hmm. At least email back and tell us that we suck or whatever. And then we missed a cry for help from High 5 for a Thrusday gig. Dammit. We're not too good at the getting gigs thing. Boy do we need a manger who is less worried about how to package the box set and more interested in getting his (or her) band in front of people. *sigh*

I'm in a really pissy mood right now and I appologize for that. I think I am going to go kill some people in Carma 2 or GTA right now, while drinking beer, which should make it a little more interesting. I think I'll throw on some omre of the terrible tunes from the 80's that I've been listening to recently to really throw things outta whack.

------------:D

Woo! Well, we had practice tonight... however is was sans Gourley cause I forgot to call him and he made plans to clean up his house before the relatives showed up. But Todd, MCB and Ian showed up. And quite frankly, it was a good practice I think especially considering how few we have had in the past month or two. We rammed through all the new songs. I was a bit tired after that. Man, I really, really need to practice more. Then we went through the last set list from High Five minus a few songs. Ian's got a thing against Chicken Nuggets Of Sin. Not sure why, but don't count on hearing it at the next show... it prolly ain't gonna happen. Anyways, like I said, we went through the old set list and, darn it, it sounded pretty good. I screwed up on Cereal and Beer. It's a song I wrote and I still got totally lost. DOH!

I'm hoping now that I can convince my Dad not paint this weekend. I'm going to be out of town on Sunday so that would cut things a bit shorter than I think he would like. I know he wants to get it done and honestly so do I, but I really haven't had any down time with the band or by my lonesome for that matter. I usually require a couple days a week to just veg or do whatever I want to do and I really haven't had time to do that recently, which adds a bit to the little fits of depression you've been seeing. Work still stinks but I have a little better idea of what they want out of me. They've loosened the reins a little bit which is good. I still have a million things on the horizon there, but it's doesn't feel as pressing as it should... whatever that means. Basically, I realy do have a lot to do, but somehow I know that I'll get it done in time... as long as I get motivated, which recently has not been the case.

Well folks, I really need to get to sleep... so until next time... later! Hope to see you at the next show!!! (whenever that may be ;)

-------------------Darrin

I'm tired.

I'm really tired of being sick. I'm tired of my head throbbing when I bend over to tie my shoes.

I'm tired of politics. Both in the world and at work. I don't like the fact that some people can just whine a bunch, or on the opposite end, do nothing, and get their way. It's all bullshit. Just because they want things 'their' way or to make a point, regardless of how much it burdens those around them.

I'm tired of leaves. They fall off the trees and then I need to pick them up. Now, some my argue that Mother Nature made leaves to cover the ground and protect the grass and all the jazz. Tell that to all my neighbors. Tell that to my dad. I was informed just today by my dad that I still needed to weed the front of the house. I can counted them... there are five. I figure, they are going to perish in the cold most likely. Maybe I am ill informed, and I probably am. Grass doesn't die in the winter, it just goes dormant. I guess weeds would be the same way. But, jeez-o-weez, they aren't going anywhere. They don't bother me any.

I'm tired of laundry. I wish that they just magically stayed clean and wrinkle-free. I think I saw a shirt like that back in the 70's made by Ronco. I think it may have even come with the smokeless ashtray.

I'm tired of my stained gray carpet. I really need to borrow my friends steam cleaner.

I'm tired of only knowing a handful of guitar chords. Now, I might be a drummer, but I know my way around music, or at least I think I do, and nothing frustrates me more than not being able to figure out a song that I can hear in my head. The same goes with lead guitar. I just can't do it right now. I just don't think that my hands are wired for that. They only want to go 'bam bam bam' and not '1-3-4-2-1-3-4-2-1-3-4-2-5-2-3-4'

I'm tired.

---------------

I really shouldn't be allowed to write in my blog when on meds. I shouldn't be allowed to function at all in society for that matter. I get all pessimistic and shit and bring everything down around me. Down. Down. Down. Comma-comma-down-doobie-do-down-down.

Later 'Tater.

Someone please kill me now. I am sitting here at work and coughing every 20 seconds. I must be driving everybody else nuts... cause Lord knows I'm driving myself nuts.

Don't you hate impossibilities? I know I do. I am stuck here working on a problem that seems impossible. With that attitude I guess I am already defeated. But what I am working on is insane. Think of it this way: Take the music of Dokken, Fiona Apple and Snoop Doggy Dogg and break them down into their musical elements of instruments and the notes those instruments play. Now, write an application that looks at all those pieces and can successfully shuffle all the pieces from each one of those songs around and make the noise that comes out sound something like Dave Brubeck. That's what I am faced with. And the people where I work are convinced it can be done. And I am convinced this is something that is going to be far more difficult to do. There is no magical application that can do this. There is no silver bullet. There is no end to pi, you fuckin' morons.

-cough-
20 seconds
-cough-
20 seconds
-cough-

Now, I understand that the medication I am on is going to fuck with me, not that I need any help, my Id does quite well on its own of doing this. But I am feelin' under the weather, shitty, tired and all that jazz... and I am a bit on the sarcastic and pessimistic side as well. Where does that put me??? In the middle of hell.

---------Darrin

Did I mention that I hate being sick? I went to the doctor yesterday cause my throat was a little sore. I figured about anything could go wrong with me at this point. And I was right. Seems I have a sinus infection as well. Gotta love it.

I returned to work today, only to be referred to as 'Pinky'. In my head, I assume they are talking about the mouse and accept it. Narf! Maybe I'll take over the world someday.

And what the hell was Steve Bellisari thinking? Obviously he was thinking 'Hey! -hiccup- I can make it home before the cops catch me.' **Screeeeeech!!!** That's right buddy. Pull attention to yourself. And run that stop sign while you're at it. I'm getting blamed for this at work as well. Seems that for the the two Saturdays I was gone, the Buckeyes were showing a little glint of actually being a decent football team. Then I return from my cruise, sans luggage but with conjunctivitis and sinus infection and the whole thing goes to hell in a handbasket. Somehow, this whole thing is my fault. Can't quite figure that one out, but I do have to admit that the coincidence of it all is damning evidence.

And other thing, I think Portishead (not PorpoiseHead) is pretty darn cool. I had a few MP3s from the 'Dummy' album playing the other day... and it's just good stuff. Another band that I like that is very similar to this is Comet 9. Now, as far as I know, they only put out one album called 'Like Mercury'. I got it out of the 99 cent bin at Singing Dog. It had all this weird aeronautical diagram stuff going on so I figured that the music would be decent... and it was.

I think the decongestants they had me on are making me a little bit loopy. Not happy loopy, just loopy. And my head still hurts. Oh well.

I was going to mention something else, but I can't think of that right now. Stream of conscious is a bitch sometimes.

And I hope Ian does write that cool-ass album he was talking about. I know the whole creative slump thing all too well. My creative output outside of DevilCake is almost non-existent. Only recently have I been picking up my guitar and noodling around. I contemplated doing a concept album called 'Peddletones' where that would be mainly what I was incorporating throughout the whole album. (If you don't know what a peddletone is, ask Ian) But then I thought, GOD that would probably be AWFUL.

Hmm... ambient. Ian sent me an example of ambient music. Something by Mr. Fripp. Honest too goodness, I don't know the difference between ambient and new age. Maybe there is no difference. Maybe they are one in the same or one of them is a sub-group of the other. All I know is after listening to that, that my ambient album is NOT ambient. I guess you can chalk it up as 'experimental' or something totally non-descriptive, but I guess that's what it is. You might see it coming out on Bizarre Depictions... then again maybe not. It's an awfully hard listen. Should only be taken in small doses. Two songs at a time at the max.

Well, I don't want to be late getting back to work. I can't stand having to work in that hole past 5 pm, especially when I am bored off my gourd.

L8r dudes!

----------------Darrin

Oh yeah... there was that whole bit about being excited about the King Crimson show and the fact that even though I am broke as shit, I am prolly gonna go see Ben Folds. Did you catch that Ian??? Todd, if you wanna go, me know. peas.

I fucking hate being sick. I get back from the cruise and what do I do??? I get sick. I got that pink eye shit. I stayed home from work today to spare the folks at work.

I originally had a whole shit load of stuff written, but then I read my mail (while doing my blog) and stupidly clicked on a fucking link. So instead of a cool ass blog, I now have a fucking Journey song stuck in my head. Thanks Ian, you punk-ass-mo-fo.

Anyways, in short, it basically said:
1) I hate being sick
2) I miss the band
3) I hope the DC boxset comes out soon
4) I wished we played more than one gig every three months
5) I need to be more proactive in the band as far as getting gigs and shit.

The original blog was better, but hey, it's just a bunch words.

I'm tired so I go rest a little bit. peas.

----------------Darrin

Well sonofabitch! Look who's back. Yup, it's me. Just to inform you ... the best part of this entry is the last half... so just shut up about how long this entry is and start reading. The sooner you stop your bitching, so sooner you can start reading and finally get to the good part.

So how are all of you doing? Me? I'm doing swell. I just got back from my cruise to the Caribbean. Now originally I was supposed to be going to the Eastern Caribbean, however Hurricane Michelle had plans to completely destroy San Juan, so the crew on the ship thought better and did a 90 degree turn and headed to Cozumel. The sea was a bit rough. Even though the ship weighs a 100,000 tons or something insane like that, it was still getting tossed about in the 18 to 20 foot waves. In fact, the only time the boat wasn't rocking back and forth was when we were docked at a port or when we arrived in Miami yesterday. Normally it is not like this, but Hurricane Michelle and another tropical storm that was flying around out there made it for rough seas. Only the first two days were really bad. I didn't do so well with that, but I bit my lip and said "Dammit, I am on this cruise to have and dammit I'm gonna" then took an Advil and sucked down another Coca Cola.

Cozumel was pretty cool. I took a tour to the Mayan ruins on the coast. This was one of the very few sunny days that we actually had. On the way back to the ship I got to drink some Mexican beer... and not that fucking Corona or Dos Equis bullshit. This was simply called "Sol" and it wasn't too bad. (As I am writing this, my body is still swaying a little bit. It's funny how the body adjusts itself to make you feel more comfortable. I just wish someone would tell my brain that I am on land now and there's no reason to try to compensate for the moving of the boat that isn't there.) After we got back from the tour, my friends and I went shopping. Yee-friggin'-haw. My friend's wife was set on finding a Tanzanite ring. I guess it's some rare purple stone that is supposedly only found in one place Africa and the mine they were using just collapsed and they are not sure how much more they will be able to mine... blah blah blah. So most of they day me and Brad sat in the chairs and looked at some of the decent looking scenery looking at jewelry and walking up and down the street.

Next was Ocho Rios, Jamaica. I took a plantation tour which kinda sucked. They drove us around on a wagon with seats using a Ford tractor. We looked at banana trees, coconut trees and even saw this dude climb one without a ladder or anything else... just legs and arms. Well lah-dee frickin' dah. Then we went to Dunn's River Falls. That was fun. Basically you started at the bottom of the falls and climbed back up. Now it's not a big ol cliff or nothing. It's on a slope. Lots of water. I can't say much else 'cause that's all you really do. But trust me, it was fun.

Then we went to the Cayman Islands. I took a snorkeling tour. Now you need to understand that the last time I went snorkeling I almost drowned. I'm not a good swimmer and lord help me if you want me to float or tread water. I'm not doggie paddle only, but not far from. Anyways, I was really nervous about going. But this time I had a life vest (as did everyone else). The minute I jumped in I started to panic. Everything that went wrong was happening again. I got was in my snorkel, I started coughing, I was kicking my legs too much and was having trouble breathing only through my mouth. I was about 3 seconds from truing right around and getting on the ship and saying fuck it. But then I said "Dammit! I came here to friggin' snorkel and I am going to do just that. I have a life vest on (which I didn't have the first time) and I am not going to drown!" So I stuck my face into the water and there were all these fish swimming by. And I was calmed. I slowed my breathing down and everything was fine. At one point I was following this group of 100 or 200 bright blue fish. They would swim for a while, then stop at a section of coral and start eating something and then move on. It was alot of fun. The rest of the time was spent on the boat wandering around, going to on-board art auctions, karaoke bars, piano bars and the casino.

=== the good part ===

It was a good time... until we landed back in Miami yesterday. So we get off the boat in an 'orderly' fashion at 11:00. We were supposed to start getting off the boat at 9:00am. Keep reading, it gets MUCH better. We go into this warehouse where they took all of our luggage. I find one piece of my luggage at the front of the warehouse and the other at the very back. Note that I put them in the hall together and I assume they loaded them together. So how the fuck did they end up 200 fucking feet apart? I don't know either.

A little more background before I continue. I was travelling with 3 other people: one person who roomed with me and another couple who had a room 6 floors above us. One the ship, they let people off in sections based on where their room was in the ship... and they higher you go in the ship, the nicer the rooms, the more money involved, the sooner the rich motherfuckers want to get of. I was on the first floor. You figure out who got off the ship first. We (my roommate and I) figured on this and anticipated on meeting them at the airport.

So after I find all my luggage, I go outside and wait for a bus... for an hour and a half. Seems that 3 other Carnival cruise ships landed at exactly the same time. Take 4500 people and throw them in front of 20 buses (which aren't marked in any way and there isn't anyone from the cruise line or the bus line) and are supposed to be going to two different airports (Miami and Ft,. Lauderdale). Now image the chaos. My flight was leaving at 2:00pm. It was now 12:30. No problem I think. I still have an hour and a half to get my bags checked and board the plane.

I walk into the terminal and it is wall to wall people. The line for USAir counter is miles long. So I get in line and wait, fairly patiently. Fifteen minutes pass and I really haven't moved much. I'm getting a little bit anxious. One hour and fifteen minutes before my flight leaves and I'm standing in a line that's moving WAY to slow. And USAir knows it two. There were scores of other people that had already missed their flight and even more that weren't fortunate enough to get another flight out... they were all booked up, leaving by my guess-timate a couple-a-hundred people stranded in Miami for the day until they could get a flight out tomorrow. But I still had a chance.

Now the porters were coming in and asking if people wanted to check their bags with them... for a small fee of course, but at this point in the game, you really don't care. So we catch a porter, he takes our tickets to check them first. He comes back and says "Sorry. I can't take your luggage. You are marked for the random security check. You have to stay in line." Fuck. So we wait. We're finally just inside the ropes. Only 100 feet more to go... and that's quite a ways. As I am standing there, I hear this lightly spoken man asking people if they are on Pittsburgh Flight 270... my flight and starts pulling them off to the side to start processing them exclusively to get them on the plane. After checking out the situation (I asked a few people in the short line if they were going to Pittsburgh. They said yes.) So I yank all my luggage and get into the Pittsburgh line, losing my place in the long line. It is now 1:30pm. Again, I have a 2:00pm flight AND I know that I have to go through the whole security thing where they search my bags. The soft-spoken man, now slightly yelling says "If I did not pull you out exclusively, I will not acknowledge you." And then he repeats. This is the point where I lose it. I scream, "Listen, I am on the Pittsburgh flight, I need to get on that plane." And he says, "No, you listen, if did not pull you out exclusively, I will not acknowledge you."

I'm at a loss now. Frustrated, I go to the end of the long line, almost to the same spot I was 45 minute ago when I first showed up. It was at this point I asked my friend, "So, what do think of Miami. It looks like were staying here." (By the way, I wasn't the only one who was getting this. There were about 10 other people who were rejected as well. USAir is totally in panic mode and changes their mind. It is 1:45pm now. Remember, 2:00pm flight and I still have to go through the security search. I get to the security room (which USAir is sharing with Delta) and there are only two checkers, one for Delta and one for USAir. And there is a MOUND of luggage, all for Flight 270 to Pittsburgh. The USAir people are on their walkie-talkies telling other people to hold the plane because there are still 10 people and 30 bags that need to get checked. I of course am on the list and DEAD LAST. And it continues. It is now 2:15pm. Remember, this is a 2:00pm flight and many people (me included) have a connecting flight waiting for them in Pittsburgh to take them to their final destination.

"The captain is wondering if he is clear to take off"
"No! We still have 7 passengers and 20 bags to check."
2:30pm
"The captain is asking how much more time."
"We still have 4 passengers and 10 bags to check."
2:45pm
"We really need to be leaving. How much more time?"
"We have 2 passengers (me and my friend) and 3 bags."

They clear us to get the hell out of their and that they would make sure the luggage got to Pittsburgh. At 2:50pm, we get on the plane, which is now sweltering hot. Remember, the air conditioning does work well in a plane unless it is moving. Well, at least I'm on a plane for a 2 1/2 hour ride to Pittsburgh. Recall, that I have a connecting flight waiting in Pittsburgh. I originally had a 45 minute layover. However, by my calculations, my connecting flight will be taking off about the time that my current flight lands. I wasn't far off.

After landing in Pittsburgh, I took 4 steps off the plane and heard... "Final boarding call for Flight blah blah blah to Dayton." Shit. I am at gate A13 and I need to get to B41. Do the math... it's not close. So I walk very very very quickly. My shins and calves are burning. Ouch ouch ouch ouch. Each step hurts. FINALLY, I get to the gate just as my other friends are boarding. Thank goodness. And I jump on the plane and am on my way to Dayton. Now you would think that the story ends here... but it doesn't.

I'm going to speed the story up a bunch, skipping most of the details. It goes something like this.

We arrive in Dayton and go to the baggage claim. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Didn't I see that lime green suitcase already. I don't see my luggage. Off to the courtesy desk. "Your baggage didn't make it. But we will get it to you tonight... somehow, someway. Address please." We hop in the very empty minivan and stop at McDs. We're all a bit hungry since we haven't eaten since 8:00am and it is now 7:30pm. Driving home ... "Houston, we have a problem. My car keys... are with my luggage that is lost and not in my carry-on". I parked my car in my friend's driveway (back home in Anna, an hour and a half away from Columbus), blocking their good car. Hmm... Well, I could borrow my parents car, drive back to Columbus and get the spare car keys from out of the house, drive back to Anna and move my car. Wait, my house keys are with my car keys. DOH! Oh wait, my parents have a set of keys. But it's Sunday at 8pm and they go to the movies alot on Sundays. Are they even home? I call home. They're there. I explain my predicament. My dad, hearing the news from my mother, exclaims "You've got to be kidding me!" Thanks for caring, dad. (In his defense he has been under a tremendous amount of stress and had starting watching 'Saving Private Ryan' which hit a little to close to home for him since he was in the military)

So me and my friends get into the car with the hopes of transporting my frustrated ass back home to ma and pa where I can procure a car from them for the evening. In the car, turn key... Rrrr Rrr.... -click- My friend's wife had left the cell phone plugged into the cigarette lighter. Battery dead. The other car (the one I am blocking) in in the car as well. Will the cables reach? They do. The car starts. I am driven to my parents. My dad, now much calmer and understanding, drives me to Columbus. I run into the house, with my carry-on and grab my car keys. I also turn up the heat and feed the fish, then jump back in the car and head back to Anna. My dad drops me off at my friend's house, I get in my car and drive back to my parents house. With it being 11:30pm, I am tired so likely I am going to sleep there. Now you would think that the story ends here... but it doesn't.

As I enter into the house, I come to the realization that I left my carry-on bag in Columbus. In that bag was all the stuff I need for my contacts, my brush, my razor, my deodorant, my toothbrush and my toothpaste. Luckily, I have all those things at their house. What a day.

Now... the story is done.

Glad to be back and I hope the the gang can get back together and jam tomorrow or Wednesday!!! Peace outside!!!

-------------------Darrin

Buenos Dias! Como Estas? Beuno? Muy Bien. Yo? No muy bien. Mi cabesa es malo.
Translation: Good day. How are you? Good? That's good. Me? Not very good. My head hurts.

Why does my head hurt, you ask? Okay, you didn't ask, so shut the fuck up and I'm going to tell you anyways. Why does the world always have to revolve around you? Sheesh! Fuckin' introvert. Anyways, my head hurts 'cause I had leaves in my yard. LOTS of them. So, on Sunday, from 10am till 6:30pm, I was out there blowing and mulching leaves. Wee! So of course, I have to wake up today with a headache, and it never went away. And it still hasn't gone away either. The light in the den is making my head throb, but I need to get my bills paid and that requires me to be online. I took a half day off work which I really didn't want to do, but oh well (oh hell). I slept from noon till 4pm. Then I woke up, finished mulching the rest of the leaves and mowed the lawn for what I hope is the last time. I figure that once it's November, the lawnmower is left to hibernate until around April when things start coming back to life.

Saturday was the 'All-Day Devilcake Party'. Ok, not really. The doors opened up at 8am (for fear of MCBD leaving a pile o dung on my porch). I laid there an listened to Anthrax and Leatherwolf till Todd arrived at around 9am. I think Gourley showed up next, then Ian, then Mike Chuck Bill Douglas around 10:30ish if I recall correct. We then piled into the cars to head off to Media Play. MCBD had broken a string at the last practice and if I was going to play his guitar, it was going to need a new B string (I think that's the one that broke.) I bought a Nuclear Assault cassette for 99 cents and the CD remaster of King Diamond's "Them". I don't know why I love that album so much. I think because it was more extreme than anything I was listening to at the time and it was a concept album to boot. KD and Merciful Fate rule (though I only own one album, that being "Them". I had a copy of KD's Conspiracy, but I haven't listened to that in a long time. Maybe later.

Back to the 'All-Day Devilcake Party'... it was at Media Play that I learned both Mikes had to leave at 2pm. Wha??? Yeah, that's what I said. We needed to record Gourley's solo album and I knew it was almost noon. DOH! So we left there, got back to my place and went straight downstairs and did our thing. It was amusing to say the least, me playing guitar and all. The first song was done in three takes, which meant my arm was already half gone. I bitched. I'm a big whiner sometimes. I like bar chords, but I can't play them for long periods of time. My arm cramps up and it feels like I have shin-splints in my forearm after a while. Well, we got two more songs recorded. I am sure that the last one had to suck badly. I barely could hear myself so I am sure that it stunk pretty bad. But it's punk. It all stunk. Don't read to much into it. I love punk. But punk was never about being musically adept, not that some punkers aren't good musicians, I'm just saying that it wasn't a pre-requisite. There's a big difference between of musicianship between The Sex Pistols and King Crimson.

Speaking of King Crimson, DC is going to be in the third row. Where the hell are you? BTW, as I am writing this blog, I am listening to the gargantuan MP3 King Crimson CD that Ian put together to prime us all. I have 3 albums, but they are not in heavy rotation, so I need to get boned up on all the shit that I might get to hear... get the ears ready for sudden time changes and shit like that.

So after the Mikes left, all that was left was me, Ian and Todd. I can't remember what the hell we did after that. At some point we all were hungry since we skipped lunch to record Gourley's album, so we headed off to eat. But first we went to a place called Giant Book Sale. That's the name of the place. It's on Sawmill and 161 where HomePlace used to be. After we went there, then we went to Chipotle... pronounced Chee-pote-lay, not Chi-pot-l, dumbass. Next time don't say it like an American you schmuck. So I got this fuckin mondo burrito for like 5.25. Fuckin awesome. This is a good replacement for the LaBamba's on campus. Now, when I get that hankerin' for a fuckin' huge burrito, I don't have to fret... it's just a five minute drive away. It sounds really fucking good right now since my dinner was for shit, but it's 10pm and they are closed and if I ate it now, I would gain 10 pounds overnight and that would not be good. But to reiterate, the burritos at Chipotle's fuckin rule.

The we went back to my house and ate and watched this British DVD that Ian brought back from England on a TV series called Alan Partridge or something like that. I am not one for most British humor, but this was okay. The cute little cleaning-girl/ receptionist chick was cute enough to get me through the 3 episode we watch. Then Ian an Todd left and the rest of the day was a blur.

Well, I've babbled long enough to make my own self go brain dead (the headache is almost gone) and so I shall stop torturing you. Till next time...

Yo! Sorry it's been so long. I just get caught up in work and shit and I just don't get to my blogger every day. I've been reading "The Real Frank Zappa Book". Mike Chuck Bill Douglas let me borrow it. I have to say, it ain't too bad. While reading it, I've been listening to my collection of 78s. A weird combination, I know, but let's face it, I'm killing two birds with one stone and it works for me. I'm too the part where he's all music philosophy and how he thinks classical music and modern music is all crap because it never invents anything new (or that's at least how I read it). Now the funny thing to me is, that through out the book, he talks about how he takes the stupid elements of rock and puts them into his music. I guess he's doing it for the humor of it all, inside joke kinda thing. Well, that's Frank for ya. Quite frankly, I wish he'd get back to his life story... it's more interesting than hearing him bitch about shit when he's dead. Tell me about your life Fucker! I wanna hear how screwed up you really are from playing with those big globs of mercury that your Dad brought home for you.

So, we had practice tonight, and for the first time in a long while... we all were there. Todd is finally moved into his house, so he can now devote a little more time. Wee! And I have to admit, I think it was one of the better practices that we've had in quite a long while. We went through mostly new stuff. In fact I think it was all new stuff. Blody Red Steak? Check. Frankenstein's French Fries? Check. Shit Down Your Neck? Check. Flesh Feast? Check. I think that might be all we practiced. But damn, it was fun. I don't think I've had that much fun in a while. I've been stuck in a practice rut for a little while. We'd practice the same song 3 times and then we'd quit. "Well, we're done here." and that would be it. Today, before Gourley got to the house, Todd, Ian, MCB and all hung out and laughed at the magazines that Ian brought back and talked about getting together on Saturday for an all day kinda thing, putting together ideas for Gourley's solo album (oops... cat's out of the bag now!) Then we practiced and after we went through all the shite I talked about above, we all hung out a little and talked and shit. And it was cool.

After they left, I started watching Junkyard Wars. About 9:45pm, right when they were about to compete against each other... the power goes out. I had the TV up loud enough that I didn't hear what was going on outside. And there it was... the howling of the train. I've been through a couple of rough storms in my house, but this is the first time I was genuinely concerned. With the lights out, I fetched my little safety flashlight that blinks when the power goes out and headed for the basement. I've never heard a tornado, and I hope I never have to, but this sounded like one and I'd be damned if I was going to wait upstairs and be sucked out the front window. I went down stairs and checked the sump pump. Shit. Fuller than hell. I was at the point where it should have gone off, but needed just a little more water. Great. What the hell do I do if it floods? What the hell happens if a tornado does hit? Do I have enough pictures of the shit I own to claim it to the insurance company? What about all the shit I have from everyone else? Ian's Marshall amp? Todd's P.A. system? My drums? Then the lights came on. I first set off the sump pump. Bye bye water. I then ran upstairs, go the camera and took pitcures of all the shit I own. The computer, the CDs, the records, the appliances, all the shit in the practice room, the washer and dryer. The storm had calmed down considerably.

So, feeling good about practice, I plunked in the Devilcake BBQ night tape. This is the kinda thing that, if the band does become famous, you'll see this shit on Before The Were Stars on VH1. It's us just goofing off. We took the camera into the grocery store when we bought all the shit, we filmed ourselves cooking and planning for the DC movie (that has yet to occur). We filmed ourselves eating and goofing off, watching some hilarious Iron Maiden video. And then, the acoustic set... candles and all. It was the most fun all. And it was cool. We all were having a good time... such a good time that after we finished the 'set', we plugged in the camcorder and watched ourselves. Yeah, it's weird, but it was cool. All the guys, just hanging out and making fun of each other and shit.

Well, I have (another) long day waiting for me tomorrow, so I'll leave it on that note. The guys in Devilcake are cooler than shit and they're my buds. And that's all I have to say about that.

G'night! Peace!

:D

Well, well, well... three holes in the ground.

Nothing new today really. I just don't feel like sleeping right now.

Looking to refinance the house. When it comes to finances, I really don't know what the fuck I'm doing. I am all about instant gratification. If I want a car, I want a car NOW. And I want THAT car. Not something similar and maybe a little more practical, I want THAT car. If I want a house, I want a house NOW. I did shop for a little while for the house, and I was proud of that, but that's cause I really didn't know what was out there. But once I found the house I am living in, I wanted it NOW. Rates? Fuck'em. Just give me the bills and the paper that says I will be broke for the next 30 years. So I'm refinancing to try to do something about it. But here's the funny thing. I decided that it was a good time to get into a fixed rate load... but guess what... I want it NOW. No shopping. I found a person, he had a rate cheaper than what I am paying now, assures me that it's a fixed rate, that it's all in the bag and it's done. But do I owe more money to buy down points??? Will I encure fees for getting out of an FHA load early??? Will there be a floating period where I might be able to lock in at a lower percentage later??? How much will my new mortgage be for??? I have no idea what I am doing. But I want it NOW.

One day, I saw Liz Phair on Sessions @ West 54th (or something like that). And I heard a song of hers. But of course, I didn't catch the name of it. But I wanted it NOW. So I bought all of the albums that they had at Media Play... and guess what... it wasn't on ANY of them. So I went to CD Warehouse and found the only other one that I didn't get at Media Play, 'Exile In Guysville'. And it was on that. So now, I have all of Liz Phair's albums... and I still don't know if I totally like her music or not. There's a few that I can absolutely say I like... Chopsticks , 6'1'' (the song I was looking for) , and What Makes You Happy. Strange.

Oh well. I really need to get to bed. Getting into work late drives me nuts, cause heaven forbid I make myself work later than 5pm on a Friday (or any weekday for that matter).

Catch ya on the flip side. Go Bucks!

The thing I hate about being a musician is that you either have to be 1) fucking depressed, 2) on crack or other upper or downer narcotic or 3) both. Why can I only be creative when things in general suck? Work is slow. I haven't played with the band for two weeks. The leaves are falling and I have a big backyeard with a ton of big trees. I'm a lonely man. The rest of the world is out to get the country I live in. My 401k has earned -30% so far this year. The living room needs cleaned and painted.

So of course with all this shee-ot bearing down on the middle toe of my left foot, I had to write a new Devilcake song. It has a Halloween tinge to it which honestly was by coincidence. And I like it alot. And Todd likes it. And Ian likes it. And hopefully the Mikes like it. And hopefully if we get a gig before the end of the year, you too can hear it.

Other than that, I'm just glad that Ian-dude is back in town and that Todd is finally moved into his house. I miss the Mikes too. We're having practice tomorrow. Hopefully all of us haven't forgotten the songs we've spent the past 8 months learning, or even worse, have forgotten how to play our instruments. Aw shit!

Well, tis late and I have to go to that hell-hole that funds my nasty habit of musicology.

Later 'Gator!