recorded in 1964, all the musicians here are patients at synanon rehab. joe pass was in for heroin addiction, which he overcame after ten years of jail, poverty, and semi-homelessness. apparently he took his (already insane) guitar playing and improvisational skills to another level in rehab, practicing all day and night because there's nothing better to do in treatment. this is the result:
so maybe heidi fleiss, tom sizemore, kari-ann, and dennis rodman should start putting something together? "the sounds of celebrity rehab 3"?
February 22, 2010
February 12, 2010
RIP FUCKHEAD
i think god was watching mtv one day when he realized he had to do something about that john mayer fellow. this is that asshole that just HAD to make the song "your body is a wonderland" exist. who goes out of his way to explain how he is a serious artist doing serious artist things like dating jennifer aniston, getting a bunch of shitty japanese fish tattoos, and making a (entirely faked) guitar face that is so fucking disgusting that it can't be described in the words. it actually makes your insides feel funny.
this guy tries to claim he's a legit guitarist, does hendrix and SRV covers, works with clapton (who is currently a lame, irrelevant iphone-shilling, old millionaire) and buddy guy and blah blah blah, then backtracks on his shitty music by putting together a SERIOUS guitar trio - that is shitty - really, really shitty.
the universe decided it had had enough and mayer ruined his career with a terrible playboy interview, in which he proved himself to be a sheltered simpleton frat-boy, asking "what is being black?" and then going on to drop this gem: "not to say that my struggle is like the collective struggle of black America. But maybe my struggle is similar to one black dude’s." WHOA.
he just dug the hole deeper as the interview went on: by saying "nigger", talking about how he has a hood pass because he worked with one black guy once or something, making a white supremacist reference when describing his...ugh...his dick ("my dick is sort of like a white supremacist. I’ve got a Benetton heart and a fuckin’ David Duke cock.") , and calling jessica simpson "SEXUAL NAPALM". the guy also admitted that him and jennifer aniston broke up because he was addicted to twitter. holy fuck.
the press jumped all over him and the entire world has joined together to say "FUCK JOHN MAYER". i turned on the news and there was a CNN panel discussing what a turd he is. yes!!!!
today, to appease the gods, john mayer cmade this official statement:
"I quit the media game. I'm out. I'm done,"
COULD THIS BE TRUE? PROOF OF DIVINE INTERVENTION??!?!
"It seems that John Mayer fans are set to feel devastated by recent reports claiming that the rocker is planing to retire soon. According to the news, John could be ending his career in the music scene after he finishes his current tour.
That news surfaced after the rock singer himself stated in an interview with USA Today, stating that he might not be releasing anymore albums."
THANK YOU KITTEN JESUS!!!!! MIRACLES DO HAPPEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
February 7, 2010
BRAINWASH
andrea just made me remember our grade six science fair project that just sums up the best parts of my tweens. the premise was that we were going to record the effects of music on the miiiind - it was called "BRAINWASH" (as in "carwash" but instead of cars its 11 year old brains and instead of soap its cds through headphones out of the boombox in my bedroom.)
we slacked off until the last minute and never ended up actually doing any of it, and made a bunch of kids in our class lie that they were participants in our research project. we wrote a completely made-up report, claiming we had recorded heart rate, temperature, BRAINWAVES, everything. with medical equipment we somehow had lying around. like tiny idiot doctors. we even put down what we thought would be "believable" results, like heart rate of 12 bpm or something.
the best part is that our project revolved around the effects of...L7! a totally made up science fair project about how we had discovered the groundbreaking scientific link between "mr. integrity" and the brainwaves, heart rates, and MINDS of 11 year olds.
seeing as we were tiny idiot geniuses, our project ended up going to provincials, where we sat in a gym full of chinese mensa kids doing biochemistry and physics. we explained our medical research to the various judges that probably assumed our project was an elaborate joke so smart that it landed us in provincials.
and then, in grade nine, we took the exact same project, dusted it off, and entered it in our high school science fair. this time it involved people also having to blow up balloons. holy shit.
if the stars align, it is still in our highschool, which happens to be a block away from where i live. we just need to track it down...so we can both have end of term projects this semester.
12:02amAndrea
i need to figure this out
i just called daniel
he mentioned something about us making people blow up balloons
????
12:03amHannah
that sounds vaguely familiar
12:06amAndrea
i know fuck
im going through my hotmail account
we slacked off until the last minute and never ended up actually doing any of it, and made a bunch of kids in our class lie that they were participants in our research project. we wrote a completely made-up report, claiming we had recorded heart rate, temperature, BRAINWAVES, everything. with medical equipment we somehow had lying around. like tiny idiot doctors. we even put down what we thought would be "believable" results, like heart rate of 12 bpm or something.
the best part is that our project revolved around the effects of...L7! a totally made up science fair project about how we had discovered the groundbreaking scientific link between "mr. integrity" and the brainwaves, heart rates, and MINDS of 11 year olds.
seeing as we were tiny idiot geniuses, our project ended up going to provincials, where we sat in a gym full of chinese mensa kids doing biochemistry and physics. we explained our medical research to the various judges that probably assumed our project was an elaborate joke so smart that it landed us in provincials.
and then, in grade nine, we took the exact same project, dusted it off, and entered it in our high school science fair. this time it involved people also having to blow up balloons. holy shit.
if the stars align, it is still in our highschool, which happens to be a block away from where i live. we just need to track it down...so we can both have end of term projects this semester.
12:02amAndrea
i need to figure this out
i just called daniel
he mentioned something about us making people blow up balloons
????
12:03amHannah
that sounds vaguely familiar
12:06amAndrea
i know fuck
im going through my hotmail account
January 30, 2010
DA WIZ
either i'm floating on a mixture of acid, ecstasy, freebase and pixie stix - or there are really a hundred tie dyed black guys with pom poms dancing in unison while diana ross runs around hand in hand with a midget covered in sparkles on my TV.
HOOOLY FUCK.
when you don't sleep regularly for long enough your dreams begin to unfold in real life and real life becomes a weird ___ hour period where you watch your dreams on TV while looking for the weather network.
now a bunch of crack dealers that just so happen to be crows are hasslin' michael jackson - probably for the 80 bucks of unicorn tranquelizer they fronted him. MJ as a scarecrow all tangled up on a quasi-crucifix is a really really weird thing to see.
THE MORAL OF THE STORY?...
eight months ago i moved my stuff into my parents place with the intention of staying for a week, so i could get my shit together. fast forward to today and this is what i'm doing while waiting for my chicken nuggets to be done. so basically if you do enough drugs to ruin your life and lose your apartment, good things will happen to you. if you're me. and get handed one high five after another by whoever programs the cosmos.
TAKE MY ADVICE.
January 25, 2010
GANGSTER OF LOVE
THERE IS A GANGSTER ON THE LOOSE...DO NOT APPREHEND, JUST SAY "IT'S COOL"
PS
this guy was an actual pimp. i think that his bones are made of crack cocaine and his blood is made of cognac and women's tears.
January 11, 2010
alcohol and paypal
woke up to the UPS guy delivering me a big bag of picks. this is why i should not have a credit card.
January 7, 2010
picz 2 come
there were wizards on the bus. i happened to catch their secret conversations on a papyrus scroll. composite sketches soon to come when my mom is not sleeping. who knew wizards got off at skytrain stations?
PART ONE:
"u eat seafood?"
"nah."
"u hafta do organic."
"...soy tuna."
"ITS A LIVING TESTAMENT."
"everything organic."
PART DEUCE:
"she was like eating KFC then all on my blog..."
PART TROIS ET MAGNIFIQUE:
"DO U HAVE AN AVATAR?"
PART SAD:
"is this an animated movie?"
PART FIVE FEATURING DRAGONS:
"when we saw the dragons..."
PART SIX - THE INTERMISSION:
"ITS LIKE "WHOS KISSIN WHO?"
PART SEVEN: YELLOW BELTZ
"he did crazy movies that like took me somewhere else...he works at burger king."
PART EIGHT - DAS SHINY:
"whats yer favorite game?"
"SHINY-TAR!!!!!!!!!!"
PART NINE: TREE WIZARDS FT. LACK OF ANTI PERSPIRANT:
"dat star wars game wuz crazy"
"...yeah, crazy!"
"have u every played magic the gathering?"
"THEY HAVE ALL THESE WIZARDS THE TREES LIKE TALK, THERES ELVES..."
PART TEN: MAGIC DOES EXIST:
"FIREPOWER ICE GODS!!!!!!!!"
January 5, 2010
how long until i delete this for the 2nd time
i got drunk and wrote this a few days after christmas. i guess it's time to show you my earnest, embarrassing side. my mtv unplugged side. my straight to dvd romantic comedy alter ego.
HERE GOES:
this time last year i was married, with two cats (cheeseburger and sylvia), in an apartment in south van. i still have my wedding ring, and my engagement ring. i remember how strange it felt to not have them on after it ended. i still have them, in a box on my parents' bookshelf.
my life has changed so much. i never thought i would ever move back in with my parents. when i had no other choice i even fought it. i slept in the hospital for two days just to not have to face being enough of a loser to have to move back in with the folks. but waking up alone in a hospital bed, with no friends to speak of, an alienated family, and finally no husband, left me with no choice. i came home.
and i am so glad i did. as degrassi as it sounds. i spent two weeks sweating and crying in a makeshift bed on the floor of my parents' house, under my mom's drafting board, begging for either a swift death in my sleep, or to have my shitty, shitty husband back.
flash forward to today: since then (june 2009) i have had four life threatening heroin overdoses. this is while i've been trying to be clean. the first was a week after the break-up, and i had only been clean for a week at that point. i guess it's the most understandable. young adult faces breakup and is too much of a pussy to just be sad for a month or two. the other three are bullshit, and a result of me trying to live guilt-free from my shitty, shitty gross drug problems. there is nothing worse than waking up to paramedics shoving tubes down your throat after injecting you with narcan and fitting you with a ventilator because you can't breathe on your own, while you see your parents fuzz in and fuzz out in the foreground, not crying anymore because it's become routine and almost boring. eyes rolling, heads shaking, etc.
twice i have technically died this year. twice i have been non-responsive with no signs of breathing. so thats kind of four of my nine lives. relapse deaths are the easiest, i guess. if i were some higher power i'd probably want to wipe out a 21 year old living with their parents and sneaking drugs, too. it makes sense.
but today, at least, i am ok. i have not used heroin since my last overdose, and i went back to school. i'm not exactly happy, but the things that make me happy take up the time that drugs used to. i sit in my room and play guitar all day, sometimes for days at a stretch. sleep here and there, eat leftovers standing up. i have become a master at multi tasking because of this. one handed typing between notes, sandwich on amp. basically i am 12 again. when i'm not doing that i hang out with andrea, and that is one of the most comforting things in the world. it takes me back to when i was a kid, when the both of us made plans on living in a spray painted tour bus and travel across the universe.
i guess my christmas message is that having an awesome best friend can kind of save your life, whether it be a guitar or some silly serbian that finds all your jokes funny. the fact that i could come back after over two years of completely disappearing still surprises me. and makes me so overwhelmed by how great my remaining friends are. oh, uh, and my parents, you know - those people that muscled their way through the unspeakable pain i put them through, just to give me a place - rent free! - to live in for as long as it takes me to become a functional, relapse-free adult. to have people that will do their best to protect you, and be there for you after you've dropped off the radar because crack and heroin ft. a shitty husband seemed way more...necessary? - is insane. and to look back and think that those things were actually more important, more integral to me being able to get up in the morning...makes me so sad. i lost a lot of time. i miss the years that i never got to actually live because i was standing in some alley doing alley-related things. i miss my teenage years! and the first part of my twenties. but i guess the best option i have right now is to white out the shitty parts of my life, because i can't reel the tape back.
don't do drugs, kids. or at least have a friend that will stay with you after you get clean. i ruined my life from age fourteen on. but i got (mostly) clean seven months ago, and by some luck of the draw a few of my oldest friends came back into my life. my parents did, too. and one of them even had christmas at my parents house. plus beer. that's a total fucking win-win. i got my parents back, my best friend, and there was beer. and the lil' wayne documentary.
i think that's a sob story worth sharing. slob story.
merry two days after christmas-mas. don't ever think i'm not thankful for how my life turned around and brought me turkey and beer as opposed to jail and situations too shitty to even mention.
HERE GOES:
this time last year i was married, with two cats (cheeseburger and sylvia), in an apartment in south van. i still have my wedding ring, and my engagement ring. i remember how strange it felt to not have them on after it ended. i still have them, in a box on my parents' bookshelf.
my life has changed so much. i never thought i would ever move back in with my parents. when i had no other choice i even fought it. i slept in the hospital for two days just to not have to face being enough of a loser to have to move back in with the folks. but waking up alone in a hospital bed, with no friends to speak of, an alienated family, and finally no husband, left me with no choice. i came home.
and i am so glad i did. as degrassi as it sounds. i spent two weeks sweating and crying in a makeshift bed on the floor of my parents' house, under my mom's drafting board, begging for either a swift death in my sleep, or to have my shitty, shitty husband back.
flash forward to today: since then (june 2009) i have had four life threatening heroin overdoses. this is while i've been trying to be clean. the first was a week after the break-up, and i had only been clean for a week at that point. i guess it's the most understandable. young adult faces breakup and is too much of a pussy to just be sad for a month or two. the other three are bullshit, and a result of me trying to live guilt-free from my shitty, shitty gross drug problems. there is nothing worse than waking up to paramedics shoving tubes down your throat after injecting you with narcan and fitting you with a ventilator because you can't breathe on your own, while you see your parents fuzz in and fuzz out in the foreground, not crying anymore because it's become routine and almost boring. eyes rolling, heads shaking, etc.
twice i have technically died this year. twice i have been non-responsive with no signs of breathing. so thats kind of four of my nine lives. relapse deaths are the easiest, i guess. if i were some higher power i'd probably want to wipe out a 21 year old living with their parents and sneaking drugs, too. it makes sense.
but today, at least, i am ok. i have not used heroin since my last overdose, and i went back to school. i'm not exactly happy, but the things that make me happy take up the time that drugs used to. i sit in my room and play guitar all day, sometimes for days at a stretch. sleep here and there, eat leftovers standing up. i have become a master at multi tasking because of this. one handed typing between notes, sandwich on amp. basically i am 12 again. when i'm not doing that i hang out with andrea, and that is one of the most comforting things in the world. it takes me back to when i was a kid, when the both of us made plans on living in a spray painted tour bus and travel across the universe.
i guess my christmas message is that having an awesome best friend can kind of save your life, whether it be a guitar or some silly serbian that finds all your jokes funny. the fact that i could come back after over two years of completely disappearing still surprises me. and makes me so overwhelmed by how great my remaining friends are. oh, uh, and my parents, you know - those people that muscled their way through the unspeakable pain i put them through, just to give me a place - rent free! - to live in for as long as it takes me to become a functional, relapse-free adult. to have people that will do their best to protect you, and be there for you after you've dropped off the radar because crack and heroin ft. a shitty husband seemed way more...necessary? - is insane. and to look back and think that those things were actually more important, more integral to me being able to get up in the morning...makes me so sad. i lost a lot of time. i miss the years that i never got to actually live because i was standing in some alley doing alley-related things. i miss my teenage years! and the first part of my twenties. but i guess the best option i have right now is to white out the shitty parts of my life, because i can't reel the tape back.
don't do drugs, kids. or at least have a friend that will stay with you after you get clean. i ruined my life from age fourteen on. but i got (mostly) clean seven months ago, and by some luck of the draw a few of my oldest friends came back into my life. my parents did, too. and one of them even had christmas at my parents house. plus beer. that's a total fucking win-win. i got my parents back, my best friend, and there was beer. and the lil' wayne documentary.
i think that's a sob story worth sharing. slob story.
merry two days after christmas-mas. don't ever think i'm not thankful for how my life turned around and brought me turkey and beer as opposed to jail and situations too shitty to even mention.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)