09 September 2014

OK I realized how ridiculous it was that I hadn’t finished that email to Wye Oak and so I sat down and quickly wrote it

I sent it, too! Maybe they’ll read it

Who knows!!!

09 September 2014

This is a draft for an email I’m been trying to write to the band Wye Oak since December:

Screen Shot 2014-09-09 at 18.13.53

07 September 2014

My cat just came into my room with his toy in his mouth and he brought it up to me so I would play with him

07 September 2014

A few months ago I spontaneously ate a bag of mushrooms while walking around UC Berkeley campus. It was 1 a.m. After an hour or so I was fully into the thing. I went everywhere. I saw mist and rain. I climbed on elementary school playgrounds. I befriended several stray cats. I had a great time.

At some point I heard my own voice. It said, “Ryan, why don’t you have a girlfriend? I don’t think it would hurt if you had a girlfriend.”

I said to myself: “Man, you’re right. I don’t know why I don’t allow myself to get close to anyone. Maybe I should just let it happen if it seems like it’s going to happen. Lord knows I’m probably confusing these people.”

Around 5:30 a.m. I returned to my car and listened to “Planet Caravan” on loop until the sun rose. I drove home feeling pretty good. When I got there I drank a half gallon of water and hugged my cat. Then I went to sleep.

When I woke later that afternoon I thought about what my own brain had said to me, about having a girlfriend again, and I said (aloud): “Nope!”

07 September 2014

The other night I was driving these idiots through San Francisco (I am something of a cab driver now) and one of them joked that he had a gun to my head in the back seat.

And I said, “Listen, if you’re serious, just go ahead and do whatever you’re gonna do, man.”

He laughed. His friend laughed. He said, “Dude I don’t really have a gun against your head. Is that actually what you would say to someone if they did?”

“Yeah. I would say, ‘There is nothing in my jacket that I’m prepared to die for. My phone is in my left pocket. If you absolutely have to blow my brains out, get it over with. I’m not going to beg for life like some chump.'”

He then took a caveman bite out of his bacon-wrapped hot dog and told me I was cool for listening to Ty Segall.

San Francisco is fucking miserable and I hope it sinks into the ocean as soon as possible.

07 September 2014

jessicapratt

Apparently I’ve listened to this album over 500 times

Also I’ve emailed Jessica Pratt a bunch of times now

Lord! She’s great

I guess I’ll just go ahead and listen to this album forever~

07 September 2014

Sure are a lot of people on this planet who like to sit around and sniff their own farts huh

I’ll tell ya, if they’re not fart-sniffers, they’re cheese-eaters—and at this point in my life I’m not sure which is worse

04 September 2014

Charlie Dumpo and Kevin Burpo took turns punching each other in the face; they had been going at it for over three hours. Charlie Dumpo’s face was purple and his eyes were black and swollen. Kevin Burpo’s lip was busted open and he was missing four teeth.

Charlie Dumpo took a swing at Kevin Burpo’s face. His fist landed hard on Kevin Burpo’s cheek. Kevin Burpo laughed wildly.

“Pretty good?” said Charlie Dumpo. “Pretty good? Pretty good?”

Very good,” said Kevin Burpo. He spit out another tooth.

Charlie Dumpo smiled. He adjusted his posture; he sat upright. His spine was as straight as a witch’s dick.

“Ready?” said Kevin Burpo. “Ready, ready?”

So ready,” said Charlie Dumpo.

Kevin Burpo wound up his arm like a cartoon baseball pitcher. He spun it behind his back a dozen or so times. Finally he released the punch. His fist smacked into Charlie Dumpo’s nose. It made a sound like a gallon of mayonaise dropped onto a sidewalk.

Blood poured out of Charlie Dumpo’s nostrils. A cashew-sized piece of his brain slid out as well. It dribbled down his face and neck and onto his T-shirt. Charlie Dumpo carefully picked it up with his thumb and index finger. He placed it in his palm. He extended his palm to Kevin Burpo.

Kevin Burpo examined the cashew-sized piece of Charlie Dumpo’s brain. It was grey and wormy. It looked like spoiled meat.

“Nice,” said Kevin Burpo. “Very nice.”

Charlie Dumpo laughed like hell.

Kevin Burpo formed his fingers into tweezers and collected the piece of brain from Charlie Dumpo’s palm. He broke it into two smaller pieces. He plugged his nostrils with each half. He inhaled them violently. They were gone in an instant, were absorbed into Kevin Burpo’s head.

“Yeah?” said Charlie Dumpo.

“Yeah,” said Kevin Burpo.

Charlie Dumpo clapped his hands. Kevin Burpo burped. The two smiled.

“Ready?” said Charlie Dumpo. “Ready, ready?”

“Oh yeah!” said Kevin Burpo. He leaned forward.

Charlie Dumpo punched Kevin Burpo in the face as hard as he could. It made a terrifying noise. Charlie Dumpo and Kevin Burpo laughed like maniacs.

The planet spun on its axis. The planet rotated around the sun. The sun was setting in the sky. The light was fading. The trees were silent. The buildings were dark. The sea gave up the dead.