(no subject)
First:
Went up to Asheville for a week and a half and had some fun. Well, until I caught that hippie cold. It must have been at the rave when I asked that guy for a sip of his soda. I was honestly hoping to get a couple hits of acid so I could maybe have a little fun, but all I ended up getting was hippieitis. So cut to me spending the rest of my time there bed-ridden on the comfy yellow couch playing Lego Star Wars all day. I totally beat it. At least I felt up to going around town on my birthday. And I thought Harvest was the greatest record store I had ever been to; it ain't got nothing on Voltage.
The last night in town was where the real fun began. Getting piss drunk with everyone and playing Cranium (badly). All sorts of beautiful bullshit over there and over here, and Will may cause boners. Still sick, plus a hang over for my flight back to Daytona. But it was worth it. That feeling of on-coming dread passed over me when I looked out the window and saw Florida, but that went away for a few hours when I got home and crashed on my bed. It's just too bad that I had to reassume my role of the lone malcontented curmudgeon of Seabreeze Avenue. I suspect that I could be a little happier up there. Maybe I'll stay for a bit longer next time.
MP3: The Briefs - Kill the Hippies (right click, "save as")
Second:
Just to prove that I was back in Daytona Beach, I was accosted by some jacktarded tourist a few days after I got back. I don't know what it is that attracts so many goddamn fucking stupid people here for a vacation. Affordable lodging? Meth lab-adjacent hotels? It's a mystery. But I didn't really mean to act like a dick to that guy. I really didn't. I think it was because I was just getting over that cold (still am, actually) and I just wanted to boogie on down to the store for cigarettes and go home. I was almost to the door when this guy gets out of his rented SUV and yells at me. Maybe because I had my headphones on, but he just seemed like the loud type.
So he yells at me if I happen to know if there are any seafood joints around, completely ignoring the fact that he's standing IN FRONT OF ONE. Is it really that hard to turn 180 degrees to look behind you to see what wondrous things lay behind? It's not tough, dude. Just turn around. Go left or right. It doesn't matter. Personally, I go left, but, hey, that's just me.
I just wasn't feeling it that day. I was in a hot parking lot, my sinuses felt like they were packed with feta cheese, I was tired, and all of the sudden I'm supposed to play welcome wagon? And he called me "bro." Yelled it. I could hear you, buddy. The headphones are mostly there for show so I don't have to talk to anybody. So I heard you call me "bro." I would have at least said "No, sorry. Don't know of any seafood restaurants around here," but that sent me over the edge to actively not caring. I just walked by and said "No time for love Doctor Jones." Didn't even take off my headphones.
I heard him and his wife or whatever talking when I went back out. Apparently I'm just oh so rude and they couldn't believe that someone who lives in (what they consider) a tropical paradise would be such an asshole. Sorry for not taking time out of my day to tell you to turn around. I figured you'd eventually see it. And you got off light, pal. Thank your lucky fucking stars I'm not a typical Florida douchehydrant. That kind of behavior would have lead to a broken jaw on your part if you asked one of them for directions.
MP3: Rusty Wellington - Ducktail (right click, "save as")
Went up to Asheville for a week and a half and had some fun. Well, until I caught that hippie cold. It must have been at the rave when I asked that guy for a sip of his soda. I was honestly hoping to get a couple hits of acid so I could maybe have a little fun, but all I ended up getting was hippieitis. So cut to me spending the rest of my time there bed-ridden on the comfy yellow couch playing Lego Star Wars all day. I totally beat it. At least I felt up to going around town on my birthday. And I thought Harvest was the greatest record store I had ever been to; it ain't got nothing on Voltage.
The last night in town was where the real fun began. Getting piss drunk with everyone and playing Cranium (badly). All sorts of beautiful bullshit over there and over here, and Will may cause boners. Still sick, plus a hang over for my flight back to Daytona. But it was worth it. That feeling of on-coming dread passed over me when I looked out the window and saw Florida, but that went away for a few hours when I got home and crashed on my bed. It's just too bad that I had to reassume my role of the lone malcontented curmudgeon of Seabreeze Avenue. I suspect that I could be a little happier up there. Maybe I'll stay for a bit longer next time.
MP3: The Briefs - Kill the Hippies (right click, "save as")
Second:
Just to prove that I was back in Daytona Beach, I was accosted by some jacktarded tourist a few days after I got back. I don't know what it is that attracts so many goddamn fucking stupid people here for a vacation. Affordable lodging? Meth lab-adjacent hotels? It's a mystery. But I didn't really mean to act like a dick to that guy. I really didn't. I think it was because I was just getting over that cold (still am, actually) and I just wanted to boogie on down to the store for cigarettes and go home. I was almost to the door when this guy gets out of his rented SUV and yells at me. Maybe because I had my headphones on, but he just seemed like the loud type.
So he yells at me if I happen to know if there are any seafood joints around, completely ignoring the fact that he's standing IN FRONT OF ONE. Is it really that hard to turn 180 degrees to look behind you to see what wondrous things lay behind? It's not tough, dude. Just turn around. Go left or right. It doesn't matter. Personally, I go left, but, hey, that's just me.
I just wasn't feeling it that day. I was in a hot parking lot, my sinuses felt like they were packed with feta cheese, I was tired, and all of the sudden I'm supposed to play welcome wagon? And he called me "bro." Yelled it. I could hear you, buddy. The headphones are mostly there for show so I don't have to talk to anybody. So I heard you call me "bro." I would have at least said "No, sorry. Don't know of any seafood restaurants around here," but that sent me over the edge to actively not caring. I just walked by and said "No time for love Doctor Jones." Didn't even take off my headphones.
I heard him and his wife or whatever talking when I went back out. Apparently I'm just oh so rude and they couldn't believe that someone who lives in (what they consider) a tropical paradise would be such an asshole. Sorry for not taking time out of my day to tell you to turn around. I figured you'd eventually see it. And you got off light, pal. Thank your lucky fucking stars I'm not a typical Florida douchehydrant. That kind of behavior would have lead to a broken jaw on your part if you asked one of them for directions.
MP3: Rusty Wellington - Ducktail (right click, "save as")