Bonefish and
How the fuck do I put a picture on my journal? I was going to have something really sweet on here. It was going to be the Bonefish gang logo done in mspaint using the spraypaint tool. Its dimensions were 403x327 so it would scream at all viewers of my weBLOG, especially those with 600x480 monitor-displays. To try to recreate this sensation for you, I just put a lot of crap below. Not even bigh crap, cos I don't know how top make something big.
FISH FISH FISHFFISH FISH FISH FISH FISHF ISHF ISHF IFHS IFHS IFH IS HFIFISSHFI HFI BONEEEEEEEEEEEE FISH LOGO
FISH FISH BONE BONE FISH SHIE SHIE SHIESHI EHS EIS HIES HIEISIEH SIH EI BONE BONE BNE BONE LOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOG
and I copy
FISH FISH FISHFFISH FISH FISH FISH FISHF ISHF ISHF IFHS IFHS IFH IS HFIFISSHFI HFI BONEEEEEEEEEEEE FISH LOGO
FISH FISH BONE BONE FISH SHIE SHIE SHIESHI EHS EIS HIES HIEISIEH SIH EI BONE BONE BNE BONE LOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOG
and I paste
So the point is, we had a big Bonefish meeting this morning at Kyle's house. Many men (as in human-beings, not males) were there, and we chatted, Zane presumably hurt Matt's feelings (mine would have been), and we did a group readthrough of the script--it was a ball. Ariana stood in for Jonas, and it was ++funny++. His lines are most absurd. We talked about costuming a bit. I said "I think I'm cool, mine might be at Angelo's house...Well, it was a year ago, so... so I dunno: he may have thrown them out or something. But, uhh. Yeah, don't shop for me." Liza was planning on shopping I guess. That's cool. I think this film is getting off the ground. I hope it does. I love making things. I also love planning on making things, and remembering things I made. So even if this film never comes into being, it will still hold a special place in my heart.
Then, after leaving Kyle's, I got my hair cut. I did this so I that the top of my head wouldn't get out of control like it did two years ago. When I orginally let my hair grow out, it was anything but intentional. I just sort of didn't realize it was as long as it was--I never got it trimmed, so I always just imagined it to be a couple inches long: how long it was when it was last cut. Since I see my hair in the mirror everyday, I just don't see it getting longer, just as I don't see my friends getting older or my chest hair getting thicker. So, even though I thought my hair this morning was roughly the same lengh as it was when I got it cut, back in the middle of June, I thought I should remind myself of my mortality by chopping some of it off (?). Lots of hair was chopped off. A dude named David cut my hair (yes, we share a name), and he's real gay. It's kinda cool. Real flamboyant type. He talked to me about dance music--he went to the Burning Man festival in Nevada and apparently danced a lot there--and the history of club culture. It was interesting. Apparently he spent some time in Detroit back in 1987 when House music was being conceived (only a year older than I), and spent some time in San Fransisco back in 1979 when DJs full of AIDS were gods. He just kept cutting. But he did it very slowly. So now the process of me standing in front of the mirror, my hair getting longer and me not noticing, was being reversed. He would cut--micrometers at a time--for about an hour, until I looked at myself (from a place outside of myself) and realized I would soon look like GI Jane. "OK, well I think this is looking great--just a perfect length really--thanks a lot" I said. He cut off some more hair and then set me free.
Now, I was supposed to go to the football game with Dad and Bro and Dad's bud. But I went last weekend and I've a cold, and I came home and the television was on and the computer was on and the radio was on and they were all making sounds and it was like a modern composition something by John Cage maybe something that would have cost a lot to produce because it was recorded not only in surround sound but in a surround sound with 6 speakers grouped in pairs placed around the room so that when you walk through them it's like you're smelling a glass of wine then swirling it then smelling it again so that it smells brighter and takes you on a journey through your senses that is both very difficult to understand and difficult to appreciate and I realized I couldn't appreciate it right now even though Frank Zappa was playing and he was making noise, the television and the computer and the radio quickly drove me mad and told me that the fans at the game would do likewise. So my mom went in my stead, and I stayed at home, I listened to music, and I stared at this screen. I want to stop soon. I had a good night last night, and I had a good morning this morning, but it's painful to look at a computer for a long time. I love watching movies. I might watch "Adam's Rib". I also love reading books, but I've forgotten about that. I'll take my dog outside. I'll have some lemonade. I'll play on the piano, and then I'll stop because I'll hit the note C. Do yourselves a favor and listen to "Raindrops keep Falling on my Head"--it's really pleasant.
FISH FISH FISHFFISH FISH FISH FISH FISHF ISHF ISHF IFHS IFHS IFH IS HFIFISSHFI HFI BONEEEEEEEEEEEE FISH LOGO
FISH FISH BONE BONE FISH SHIE SHIE SHIESHI EHS EIS HIES HIEISIEH SIH EI BONE BONE BNE BONE LOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOG
and I copy
FISH FISH FISHFFISH FISH FISH FISH FISHF ISHF ISHF IFHS IFHS IFH IS HFIFISSHFI HFI BONEEEEEEEEEEEE FISH LOGO
FISH FISH BONE BONE FISH SHIE SHIE SHIESHI EHS EIS HIES HIEISIEH SIH EI BONE BONE BNE BONE LOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOG
and I paste
So the point is, we had a big Bonefish meeting this morning at Kyle's house. Many men (as in human-beings, not males) were there, and we chatted, Zane presumably hurt Matt's feelings (mine would have been), and we did a group readthrough of the script--it was a ball. Ariana stood in for Jonas, and it was ++funny++. His lines are most absurd. We talked about costuming a bit. I said "I think I'm cool, mine might be at Angelo's house...Well, it was a year ago, so... so I dunno: he may have thrown them out or something. But, uhh. Yeah, don't shop for me." Liza was planning on shopping I guess. That's cool. I think this film is getting off the ground. I hope it does. I love making things. I also love planning on making things, and remembering things I made. So even if this film never comes into being, it will still hold a special place in my heart.
Then, after leaving Kyle's, I got my hair cut. I did this so I that the top of my head wouldn't get out of control like it did two years ago. When I orginally let my hair grow out, it was anything but intentional. I just sort of didn't realize it was as long as it was--I never got it trimmed, so I always just imagined it to be a couple inches long: how long it was when it was last cut. Since I see my hair in the mirror everyday, I just don't see it getting longer, just as I don't see my friends getting older or my chest hair getting thicker. So, even though I thought my hair this morning was roughly the same lengh as it was when I got it cut, back in the middle of June, I thought I should remind myself of my mortality by chopping some of it off (?). Lots of hair was chopped off. A dude named David cut my hair (yes, we share a name), and he's real gay. It's kinda cool. Real flamboyant type. He talked to me about dance music--he went to the Burning Man festival in Nevada and apparently danced a lot there--and the history of club culture. It was interesting. Apparently he spent some time in Detroit back in 1987 when House music was being conceived (only a year older than I), and spent some time in San Fransisco back in 1979 when DJs full of AIDS were gods. He just kept cutting. But he did it very slowly. So now the process of me standing in front of the mirror, my hair getting longer and me not noticing, was being reversed. He would cut--micrometers at a time--for about an hour, until I looked at myself (from a place outside of myself) and realized I would soon look like GI Jane. "OK, well I think this is looking great--just a perfect length really--thanks a lot" I said. He cut off some more hair and then set me free.
Now, I was supposed to go to the football game with Dad and Bro and Dad's bud. But I went last weekend and I've a cold, and I came home and the television was on and the computer was on and the radio was on and they were all making sounds and it was like a modern composition something by John Cage maybe something that would have cost a lot to produce because it was recorded not only in surround sound but in a surround sound with 6 speakers grouped in pairs placed around the room so that when you walk through them it's like you're smelling a glass of wine then swirling it then smelling it again so that it smells brighter and takes you on a journey through your senses that is both very difficult to understand and difficult to appreciate and I realized I couldn't appreciate it right now even though Frank Zappa was playing and he was making noise, the television and the computer and the radio quickly drove me mad and told me that the fans at the game would do likewise. So my mom went in my stead, and I stayed at home, I listened to music, and I stared at this screen. I want to stop soon. I had a good night last night, and I had a good morning this morning, but it's painful to look at a computer for a long time. I love watching movies. I might watch "Adam's Rib". I also love reading books, but I've forgotten about that. I'll take my dog outside. I'll have some lemonade. I'll play on the piano, and then I'll stop because I'll hit the note C. Do yourselves a favor and listen to "Raindrops keep Falling on my Head"--it's really pleasant.