Fingernails and a Cigarette's a Lousy Dinner

Did a video interview with The mOrgans last night and got great stuff. Women should not drink an alcoholic beverage during pregnancy because of the risk of birth defects. "So, what color are your eyes, really?" Attended a "Royal Wedding" event on the roof of The Roosevelt Hotel. I made another appointment for next Saturday at 5pm. Dressed to the nines and a half. Sha na na. "Texas Hot Link." Listened to a conversation, going nowhere, about adoption versus natural birth realizing the whole time, that none of the participants should ever have children under any circumstance. Snubbed. Saw the sun come up, sore and irritable. Don't cry, don't fight. "I'm not a photographer like you, but I think I have a great eye." Apparently, Smokey threw Julie away, however, the jury is still out. Consumption of alcoholic beverages impairs your ability to drive a car or operate machinery. Chick wouldn't 'touch-up' my tattoo today because she thought it hadn't healed. I suppose she did too. Scanning negatives, working. "Don't forget the small people." It's fucking healed. Shopping for necessities. Not shaving, but fuck it, it's Saturday. You know, I've got the right. And then I thought...

Hey! Hey! Hey! Yeah, you! Fuckers!

Looking forward to the beginning of the week. The VERY beginning of the week. A lot.

I'll definitely shave. La di da, indeed.

This is one of the greatest 'love songs' ever written. Listen.

Cover Star: SP
Headlining Band: Da Mats

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Definition(s)

I have a couple of "golden rules" - and they're not the ones you are probably thinking of. Think of them photography-wise:

1) I'm not really good with vague, in fact, I'm really bad with it.

Say what you mean. It's not hard.

Take a minute. Level. I can take it. At least that gives me something to work with.

2) And for fucking christ's sake, do not ask me just to occupy your down time. As a distraction, a time-waster, a pawn in your own personal chess game...

Don't ever do that.

I don't want to be left on the outside.

And don't get me wrong, no one should ever kill another person, either.

I think I know you and I don't think that you want me to...

Cover Star: SP
Headlining Band: Mark Lanegan

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Mirror

Now that I reconsider it, it's very Mapplethorpe of me. And not on purpose. Odd.

Whatever. Just listen to the fucking song. That changes everything. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, fucking blah.

I'll be dead soon, and so will you.

; )

Cover Star: SP
Headlining Band: Da Giraffes

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You Can Gaze Right Out My Window.

I'm gonna enter through your nose, your eye, your ear, your tongue. The march has just begun. Let's make no mistake about it. My radio is everything.

Good morning.

Cover Star: CB
Headlining Band: Da Giraffes

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Your Eyes Should Always Say Maybe

There are more than four poignant memories, but here are four:

1) You believed in me and I did not let you down.

2) I stood up for my people, you threw a keyboard across the room, it exploded, and I chased you as you ran for the elevator, shouting "Don't fucking run away from me!" And the next morning you bought fig newtons and put them on my desk as a peace offering. When I talked to you about running away, you said you ran because you wanted to hit me.

3) Indianapolis, IN, me and you in a car, hardly knew each other. Right before the Sony screening, we pulled into a liquor store and got a six of Mickey's Big Mouths. We drank three each, me behind the wheel. And you said, something like "Damn, James Graham, you can drink." And then we went to that steak house...high as kites.

4) All those nights at that bar on West Broadway, long gone, called The Construction Zone. They had popcorn. And you said over and over to Tracy and I, "We're right, right?" And we agreed. And we were.

We were pioneers. And no one can take that away from us.

Although, I'm not sure what it gives us in return. Except stories.

Cover Star: Elena
Headlining Band: Heartless Bastards

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Messiah Complex

This only happens when it happens and mostly when you have nothing else to do, or you are incredibly traumatized. See the Peter Weir film with Jeff Bridges entitled "Fearless." Or be incredibly bored. But it happens to me. Often. At least in this city.

I was on the subway tonight. Listening to this song in my headphones. A note on headphones:

I've gone on the record saying that I will never listen to music in NYC through headphones for two very good reasons - stick with me.

1) My hearing is shot from too many punk rock shows. Hunh? I don't want to damage it any further. You can't be in THE ASS KITTENS and be deaf. Not yet.

2) I don't want to get run over by an errant cab, car, bullet or evil/oblivious passersby. You can't be in THE ASS KITTENS and be dead. Not yet.

So I will never listen to music in headphones. Unless I get an iPhone and can transfer all my favorite music to it.

Anyway...

I was on the subway tonight. Listening to this song in my headphones.

And my beloved NYC, with this song blasting into my near deaf ears, became surreal. I was no longer walking. I was floating, I was transcendent. I was one with a personal soundtrack. The National WERE talking to ME.

And I know that wasn't the case, but it kinda seemed that way.

So:

I was on the subway tonight. Listening to this song in my headphones.

And I was standing with my back to the door, probably leaning on it, which the sticker across from me tells me acutely not to do.

And across from me, to my left was this guy with restless/nervous/twitchy leg syndrome. His legs were going at 100 mph. And to my right was this guy with restless/nervous/twitchy leg syndrome. His legs were going at 100 mph.

I looked at both of them dead in the eyes, one after another with my headphones on. With calm, with forgiveness, with mostly "Stop fucking doing that" but with a reassuring smile.

And within seconds, they both stopped twitching their fucking legs.

And they didn't twitch for three more stops - roughly 15 more minutes. And I kept checking up on them, and I would catch them looking back at me, like "I got it man, it's all good now."

Weirdly satisfying. And then I got off at Union Street, but not without looking back at both off them reassuringly, with my headphones still on. Floating.

Now, if I could just stop twitching...

You might need me more than you think you will.

Cover Star: Celia
Headlining Band: Da Nat

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Some Will Live to Love Another Day and Some of Us Won't

Thursday morning in the universe.

All right. Yeah.

Cover Star: Marzena
Headlining Band: Bad Seeds

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Get Him Out of Your System

Daisy fresh and arrow straight...

Cover Star: Stoya
Headlining Band: The Nat

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Practicing...

..vocals.

Note to self...if you could just close your eyes and go the fuck to sleep...

Cover Star: Minx
Headlining Band: Pulp

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My Cantina

She said, "Do you like opiates?"

Fuck it, THE ASS KITTENS are rehearsing on Sunday. Even if I have to do it by my fucking self.

Committed? Fuck yeah!

I just want to sing.

Cover Star: Self-Portrait, tonight and NOT from the "Outtakes" show...April 22nd @ The Dash Gallery, 172 Duane Street, TriBeCa. Please come by and hug me.
Headlining Band: Mr. Zimmerman

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Lit Up

Monday night in the universe. Slowly, the planet goes around the sun.

Just waiting, standing, pining for Tuesday.

Oh, universe, please do not disappoint me.

I try to untie...

Cover Star: Ieva, from the "Outtakes" show...April 22nd @ The Dash Gallery, 172 Duane Street, TriBeCa. Please come by and hug me.
Headlining Band: The National

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Meanwhile...

We get high in backseats of cars
We break into mobile homes
We go to sleep to shake up you
And then wake up on our own...

Cover Star: Renee
Headlining Band: Spoon, referencing Iggy, etc...

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Right Now...

...we gotta work together, it's been too long.

Cover Star: Katy
Headlining Band: Beasties. It's been a Beastie day, amongst other things.

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You Bring The Smokes, I'll Bring The Beer...

Can't we just wait together?

Cover Star: Rebecca, 2005.
Headlining Band: Amanda Fucking Palmer

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Heavy Rotation

Fingers crossed. I can put a fire out like nobody's business, after all, I am an Eagle Scout...

I try not to. I try to let it burn.

Stick with me.

I LOVE FIRE.

Everything's gonna be ok, isn't it?

Nostalgia will kill you. As will the present.

The song: Not only my favorite Greg Elkins guitar solo, but right up there with my favorite guitar solos ever. Listen. I wasn't there, but he was crying.

There is one better. But that's for another time.

There's nothing worse than pouring wine into an ashtray...

Cover Star: Jennifer, from 2004. Somewhere in Brooklyn.
Headlining Band: Vanilla Trainwreck

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Sleep, Think, Sleep...

Not the best night for me.

Tattoo is healing. Interpersonal communication?

We'll see.

Irregardless, here's Jessalyn. Laughing, of all things...

Cover Star: Jess, from 2008.
Headlining Band: ALICE fucking COOPER

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