You know, it really shouldn't take an hour and a half to take off zombie makeup. And just try explaining how that's the reason you're late for work.

And i really wanted to see sharps like knives, i really did. But then i drank a bottle of wine in under an hour. And i ended up staying at john street. And listening to the pixies. And going to gus's. And dancing to country music. And having a great time overall.

Oh yes, there most certainly is a "but" in there.

Anyway, my best friend Ian is coming home soon. We will go out, you can tell me all about Japan, and i will tell...i donno...stuff about my boring life.

And we will try not to end up in the drunk tank.

I don't believe this.

So, ever have to negotiate to get the wallet back from the cracked-out prostitute who stole it from you?

Just did that a half-hour ago.
Cost me $15.

Now, those of you who are avid readers, could someone please explain why shit always happens to me?

I mean, all I want is a girl with pretty eyes who i'm into, a job that pays the bills that i can tolerate, and to write music.
That's it. Doesn't seem like too much.

But you know what? Fine. Alright world. You win. Send whatever new bizzarre thing that's going to happen to me. I don't fucking care anymore. Send the plague of locusts, the hellfire from the sky. Whatever. I'm just gonna take it as being par for the course from now on.

Alfred achieving something resembling happiness?
Nope.
Just wierd occurance after wierd occurance. And i'll write about it all here, you lucky people.

Now i'm gonna wash my neck for the next hour, from when she tried to "neck" with me as i kept walking.

I mean, really.

So, it's been a while.

Ok, so why has it been a while? Well, after the last self-depricating post i was feeling rather sick of myself. And then after the shit at the end of the gobblefest afterparty i was even more sick of myself. I was just really pissed when we didn't get to play, mostly 'cause we were going to play a song with james. But that was no reason for me to get all pissy and tell people to go fuck off and such. And i've felt bad about it ever since. So big time apologies to Darryl and Melissa's mom(who works at the capri and recieved the brunt of it. I know, she won't see this, but whatever.).

Other than that, things since then have been pretty good. We jammed on some brand new songs the other day and it felt really good. And the last few times i've gone out i've had a great time, and then came home and CONTINUED to feel good. Perhaps this signals and end to a year of drunk tankness, personal injury (dale informed me that they painted over the blood at hunter street), and general suckatude.

One can hope.

Anyway, heading to get some comics. If any spincycles are on here i'm assuming jamming's on for 4 o'clock, but will make calls later. Everyone else, i'll see ya's at rachael's.

alf

(This post has been edited due to extremely brutal content. Trust me, it was bad.)

Anyway, gobblefest next week. anyone who can give me a ride up after 5pm on friday please get a hold of me.

The beat material show was fucking amazing!!!
The cunard st. party was fucking packed!
I was fucking wasted!
Dale was fucking there (he's alive!)!*

So yeah, the post last nite was me, quite drunk, wanting everyone to go out again tonite.
So yeah. Money. Sharp like knives.
Dance!Dance!Dance!Dance!

*The best part was me and dale just casually sipping our beer on the back step while cop-induced mayhem went on around us.

go to the khyber show tomorrow (saturday). Please. It will be fun.
Alf