Sunday, March 22, 2009
colin ambulance
tell the driver everything.
so they know what medicines to use.
if it ends in tragedy, tell them to spread the ashes over shuswap lake.
this morning i was the guy from momento.
looking around at the damage done and wondering who did it.
strange, i don't feel drunk.
then steve and i held a literature conference at white spot.
discussed space, the meaning of life, etc.
legendary, no pickle, and an extra large scoop of slaw, please.
"religion is the pimp of beliefs, and beliefs cause wars." -sd
i wanna take tomorrow off, but i cant.
i'd rather spend the day as a plant.
waiting patiently, slowly sipping water.
passing time, preparing for the slaughter.
also make sure to tell the driver about my condition.
playing the CN Centre was an incredible experience.
the sound guy threatened to kill us, literally, during our set.
i didnt hear him, but steve and max sure did.
apparently slamming beers onstage, during a beer release party was a no-no.
he's lucky i didnt hear him, and in many ways, so am i.
great venue, great crowd, great beer.
when we got offstage, they had nachos waiting for us.
in our dressing room.the rest of the night is secrets and mysterys.
a blur of singing and dancing and laughing, fueled by self-medication.
my house smells like a brewery.
i woke up naked.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
souper
a lot of things have been ticking around here lately.
furnace, computer, clock, etc.
not ticking me off, but definitely ticking, non-stop.
a constant reminder that everything is slowly moving forward.
in an upward spiral, out from under.
-write something good here-
what would james do?
probably tell some guy to fuck off, then head to the dining hall, grab a tray of oatmeal with tons of sugar, and sit at a table all by himself, where leonard would eventually join him, and say "hey kid...hold on."
best to smile.
best to stay sleeping.
where has my head gone? -mg
as usual, everything is a big mess leading up to a big concert.
feels like im running myself into the ground.
but replace running with drinking.
to sell the product, one must first love the product.
the billiard ball deflector shield will not protect you from ric flair.
winter sucked ass.
stabbing myself with mexico helped alot.
i think its ending, saw some concrete today.
now we get to drive across rivers on the way to work.
and park in lakes.
so the people will know we were here.
talk to me after a shower and a haircut.
and a stomach full of stir-fry instead of mac-fry.
balance instead of blackout.
and newsweek instead of nothing.
its an ocean out there, sometimes the sail just rides the rail.
i hope everyone comes to the concert on saturday.
its the only time we will ever play the CN Centre.
so i promise awesomeness.
if i fail you, then i owe you a beer.
dont worry, mine are free.
Monday, March 16, 2009
CW Bigsby
this saturday night, our band plays the CN Centre.
the biggest venue in PG.
bigger than my head.
ive watched big, rich bands like big & rich play there.
blue rodeo, motorhead, motley crue, willie nelson, the hip, etc.
bigger than my head.
PWB, is celebrating the release of their new beer "Cariboo Genuine Draft."
in Prince George, when more liquor is added to the liquor stores, they throw a really fun party. and they hire bands who sing about booze to play songs at their really fun parties.
so, naturally, i wrote a hit song about the beer.
gonna play it live on the radio later this week.
time to plan a costume.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
for-ev-er
once upon a time,
there was a keyboard player and a guitar player, at a really fun party.
the keyboard player walked up to the guitar player and said:
"hey guitar player, how's the strum?"
guitar player replied:
"more babes than you'll ever get, keyboard player."
keyboard player answers back:
"hey guitar player, hows the C scale workin out for ya?"
guitar player pauses, and looks to the west.
the silence spreads like mayonnaise across the bread.
then he responds, calmly and quietly:
just remember, keyboard player, ...nobody ever plays 'air keyboard'.
my kitty-cat notepad is full of stupid things like that.
i find them in the morning, and post them on the internets.
in an attempt to legitimize my lethargy,
and glorify my goofery.
you rude, crude, bag of pre-chewed food, dude!
my word is my bond.
movies like hook and the sandlot will influence me for-ev-er.
i first saw hook in theatre, downtown vancouver somewhere.
some dick broke into my dad's van that night, and stole our garage door opener.
i guess he never found our house, cause the lawn mower never went missing.
it was like 1991, maybe he thought it was a pager?
did they have pagers in 1991?
remember pagers?
"page me"
yeah ya did.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
when i wake up, blackout drunk, i still see your face,
in the taxi picking you up from my place.
and with a wave, you drive away, the tail lights fade,
shooting off like a star in outer space.
so i make a wish, and watch it fall,
with the sound of a swish from a basketball,
then the game breaks out into a brawl,
who won? i cant recall.
cause i get a little blinded, once in a while,
but when i think of you i smile.
you bust tables, i sell cars, we both have to sweep,
i wake up when youre going to sleep.
but ill kiss you good morning if you'll kiss me good night,
and we can both hold on real tight.
well i go a little crazy, once in a while,
but when i think of you i smile.
and soon 9-1-1, you'll probably dial,
but when i think of you i smile.
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