happy birthday rosie

family times...

Dear Rosie: You totally deserved the best birthday ever with several hot broads. You are loved. Mostly by me... but by others too ;)

Fat Velvet Shock Collars

Before your reply I called the Velvet to ask for directions. I told him that I was coming to see my daughter play... and before I could finish he said...

"Yes, she is really good"
"How did you know she's my daughter?"
"Your accent"
"...but..."
"She is younger and has that warmth in her voice, similar to yours... you should come see her, she's really good!"

I tossed a coin in a fountain yesterday night. Then, to seal the deal, I re-wished the same wish and tossed in another shiny penny.

Fat people on the bus really should take off their backpacks - they'd take up less space.

Nicole's talking a lot. She really annoys me. Sometimes I day dream that I'm throwing things at her... or that she has a shock collar on that I have the remote to.

dopamine

he's such a good drummer. My dad wants me to learn to play jazz. I don't because I don't want to deal with my potential. Looking beyond this drummers arrogance, his attentiveness to the needs of his instrument are sexy. Like if a kit had three clits: the time signature, the accent and the pick up's - he found all of them and made them climax in 100 different ways. He's definitely the kind of guy who's single but tells everyone he's got tons of broads. The pianist is my favourite; I think he's crazy. I think he goes home to a room full of inflatable dolls.

On stage these guys are geniuses - masters of their art. Athletes with endurance, pride and skill. Off stage they are socially retarded shadows. I guess like most masters. And me? I dunno, may be I should change sticks, close my eyes and lighten up? Or may be I'm destined to be a rock-n-roller, who gets drunk at a jazz club with my dad.

He just loves music so so so much. He can't help but let out a "yes"... "yeah!"... "you got it!"... and smile huge at every piano solo. Every tenor, alto, soprano. He's closing his eyes, listening so intently. He could have been a master.

I miss that release of dopamine. I used to listen to music. LISTEN. Now I'm a watcher. Sex + Music. We appreciate them in the same way. I'm a voyeur. I control, I like the intensity. I watch. I'm on top, one step ahead. The performance is 1/2 the enjoyment. I listen and play the melody, harmony and percussion. I let my entire body feel.