19 March 2020

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not” is probably my favorite thing to hear, but I reckon second place goes to “Yes, Ryan, I know you got a vasectomy. You told me 20 minutes after I met you.”


19 March 2020

hey other than that chinese dude who is shipping millions of face masks and test kits to the united states to help ordinary people survive, where are all the quote-unquote altruistic billionaires we don’t tax who are supposed to swoop in and save us? isn’t the intellectually dishonest argument for their continued existence that they can perform miracles for the greater good with their mountains of money? it’s almost as if we should be taxing the shit out of them to begin with so we can pay for even the simplest resources we need in order to combat a catastrophic pandemic that is almost certainly going to wipe out millions of at-risk americans, rather than “hoping” they chip in at some point. healthcare workers don’t have face masks to wear when treating the infected, who, insanely, we can’t even readily test yet, unlike south korea who is testing tens of thousands of people a day and thereby flattening the curve. meanwhile we’re all living like fucking cockroaches until this spiritually-bankrupt government gets around to operating like the richest and most prosperous country on the planet that it supposedly is. what a disaster. fuck the rich. buncha scumbags. oops!!!

19 March 2020

WELL: As soon as they lift the out-of-doors human ban on the Bay Area, hopefully by next March (hah!!), I’m gonna get me a death tattoo and a black car and go to that strange sad place and start working on my PI license. Really!

I’ve been writing some letters destined for NYC and LA and Milwaukee and even San Francisco. I just got to get my hands on some stamps so I can get them to where they’re going. And these here letters are in cute pastel pink and purple envelopes I bought from a stationary store on College Ave. in Berkeley one fall day not too long ago. They’re so beautiful but I’d rather my friends have them. I’m running a lean operation these days and anyway these fine individuals could use some words in a nice envelope right about now. That and, c’mon, you don’t buy an envelope to keep it, for god’s sake. Get real.

Until I can fulfill my dream of living alone in a gloomily-lit studio apartment in a weird neighborhood and in a weird city, seated before a stupidly huge TV with purple-ringed eyes and with a thermos of green tea on a little Muji table at my knees, I must keep writing things . . . because what the hell else am I really good for anymore, if not this.

Amissa, I miss you . . . and you too, Anatalia. I got something for both of you. Assuming the US Postal Service doesn’t sink into the abyss like the rest of human civilization seems destined for, I reckon you’ll have something in your respective mailboxes soon.


19 March 2020

have you ever noticed that . . . a lot of bands are . . . extremely bad lol

18 March 2020


17 March 2020

day whatever of government-mandated bay area quarantine

15 March 2020

every day i become more and more like my hero gritt calhoon . . . and not necessarily in a good way neither!!!! i shouldn’t explain exactly what i mean i don’t think, at least not in a straightforward way, and certainly not right this second. where’s the fun in that??

ok bye lol

15 March 2020

my old boss took this picture of fiona and me at missouri lounge back in november, but i only just saw it the other day