Last night was Fray Day out here in Santa Monica. It was quite nice, but the turn-out wasn’t what I expected it to be. Most of the people heard it through word-of-mouth which was quite surprising. Then again, most people haven’t been checking The Fray out since 1997. Damn that’s a long time.

But the scheduled performers AND the open mikers were very good, the surprise being the open mikers. I’ve hosted and coordinated the huge Open Mike Night up in Santa Barbara (IV actually), and was quite bored through most of it. Nevertheless, there were many good stories shared last night.

It has gotten me motivated to get my ass writing, which is the main reason I went. My rate of writing has been like molasses. Hopefully that outlook will improve.

Any good shows in LA this week?

Lethargy has crept its way into my system now. I can’t seem to move my fingers, my feet, my brain. It’s all just too much right now. Hopefully some Pepsi (c) will fix that up soon.

Tonight — Something @ the Spaceland. I’m addicted to that place.
Saturday — Cut hair. Art opening in Camarillo. Betty Blowtorch and Radio Vago @ Spaceland.
Sunday — Fray Day 5 @ Un-Urban Coffeehouse, Santa Monica.

It seems that it will be a bit more mellow this weekend than last. That would be nice.

I was on the phone last night getting dirty family secrets from my aunt. What surprised me was not the secrets themselves, but the vast amounts that exist. It is quite disturbing to even think about it.

I’m going to chop my hair off tomorrow. I’ll take before and after pictures, although it won’t be as extreme as when I went to cut my shoulder length hair off a couple of years ago. It’ll be fun.

I’m in a constant state of perplexion right now. Everything seems like it’s coming at me head on, as if I were a deer standing on a highway at night. Nothing seems right. I think I’m hungry, but I just had food a couple of hours ago. Has it been hours? It seemed like it was minutes. Where am I right now? How much longer is this drivel going to last?

I always seem to fuck up on which place I want to post an entry to. I always seem to forget. Arrrrgh.

Last night, quite by accident, I caught Bjork on Charlie Rose. As usual she was fabulous. I think I’ve heard everything she said before, but it’s different coming from her directly. Her voice and mannerisms make the words alive. It’s quite spectacular.

In keeping with my PBS whore-dom, I watched Sister Wendy in America. I missed most of her previous series; I’m determined to watch this one through.

This weekend will definitely be calmer than last.

Antonin: It’ll be good all right. It’ll be the best you’ve ever had. Trust me.
John: I know what I’m into. How far are you will to go?
A: I’ve gone deeper into the reaches of kink that it’s not even funny.
J: Details?
A: Blood, guts, San Onofre Nuclear Power Plant, MTV. Enough?
J: Well…
A: Look. I need to make my money somehow. If you’re from the Times, fuck off. If not, let me in and let’s go.
J: How much?
A: I’m fucking priceless.
ATTITUDE is worth its weight in gold here. The thicker, the better.

The picnic was great. It uplifted my spirits. I tried to get some of my co-workers to go with me, but the prevailing opinion was, “I’m not into that lovey-dovey shit.” So there you go. I guess I’m “lovey-dovey”.

It’s been quite an exciting time the past several days. It can be mostly chronicled here.

For now, I’m absolutely beat. I’m craving fried chicken, and I need to buy lotto tickets. $85 million would be nice right about now.

I’m going to have a mini-picnic for lunch today. I brought my lunch today, and since it’s been quite sunny lately, I’ve decided to eat out in the open. I have left over kabobs with rice pilaf, pita bread and hummus. I’ll be reading “After Yesterday’s Crash” an anthology of Avant-pop works. I only wish I brought my camera. It’s nice to look at the cars going past.

I was out jogging last night where I saw this boy jogging towards me. The first thing I noticed about him was his arms (which has become a huge turn-on for me). Usually I tend to ignore everyone around me when I jog, so I can go into a yoga-like meditation. This boy, though, broke all of that. I actually smiled and said hi to which he replied with a coquettish smile. This threw me off badly, so I stopped jogging (good thing I about two-thirds of the way through). My hormones have been resurrected.