I'm feeling ill lately. Sick. Nothing extreme, just a cough and an overall blecch feeling. That said, i'm not gonna stop doing whatever I feel like doing. Just maybe not as much.
I visited the Black Rose Collective Bookstore, operated by hippie-punk anarchists. Got some free books, a shirt, and some black pants out of their 'free-cycle' section. I noticed a tray of cupcakes and a sign that said "free coffee", but the pot was empty, and I didn't know if it woulda been kosher for me to just pick up a cupcake and stuff it into my maw. Maybe next time? Perhaps.
Later, I was sitting by the fountain in the center of Peninsula Park, one of the most gorgeous places i've ever seen and a place I go to relax. I wasn't doing anything, really, just sitting, calm, listening to life going on around me, surrounded by literally millions of red, white, and pink roses- the cold wind blowing softly- yellow leaves floating down from the trees. I had gone there for a single reason, to be in the presence of beauty, if only for a short time.
I saw a brunette in a black jacket, with her hair pulled back, sitting alone just as I was. I rejected the idea of walking over, introducing myself, and trying to make any sort of human connection. It'd most likely be an unwanted gesture- a waste of effort. I looked closer at her. She's texting on her cellphone. I stood up and walked away from the fountain, past the roses, up the stairs, sprinkled with yellow leaves and flower petals, and out of the park.
Currently
listening
:
Spooky
By
Lush
Release date: 1992-02-04
So, yeah, we got the apartment. It took a lot of work, a lot of headaches, and a lot of money, but we got it.
Today at work, this old white-bearded queen took a liking to me and kept winking at me. In my line of work, its nothing new, so I disregarded it as just casual flirting from a guy who has no idea how misplaced his attentions are.
An hour later this jerkoff walks out of the arcade and saunters up to me and says, softly, "I'm waiting..."
to which I replied
"Well, you're gonna be waiting a looong time."
My life-experiment is finally yielding positive and negative results. I've been here in a city I knew nothing about, for a tad above two months, and I have a job paying over $10 an hour and an apartment. And on the negative, I have old gay men trying to hit on me.
Ya have to take the bad with the good. Life is weird. If it wasn't, it'd be some Republicrat "family values" "bubblegum in the baby's hair" "lookin out my back door" fake America nightmare. Fuck Norman Rockwell in his long-eaten-by-worms asshole. Life should be weird.
I missed the deadline to register to vote in Oregon and i'm not going to try to go the absentee ballot route. too bad.
well, maybe not. I was just gonna vote for myself anyway.
Currently
listening
:
Tomahawk
By
Tomahawk
Release date: 2001-10-30
Today, I have a nasty hangover, and thats it for me for drinking for a few days. I'm meeting with the property management folks on friday to seal the deal, and we should be able to move in that same day. What this means is i'm gonna be a broke fucking bastard for a couple weeks. Good thing pasta's cheap.
I've been getting pangs of homesickness. I miss cookouts! I haven't smelled any charcoal in forever. I miss playing with the boys in L.D.P. I just feel this huge emptiness... not making music or singing is hard on the soul. I'll just look at it like its something that I have to let build. For now. I wanna do some stuff that isn't metal as well. Now, i'll just let the ideas pile up. The future is uncertain.
Currently
listening
:
Season of Poison
By
Shiny Toy Guns
Release date: 2008-11-04
The survey for money thing never happened. I went. No one was there. No free money. No relentless slaughtering of pixelated mutant zombies. So... I was enjoying a cigarette earlier this afternoon, while waiting for the MAX Yellow Line. I was sitting down talking to two strangers, a businessman and a lumberjack, about various and sundry bullshit. I don't know for certain that those were the two men's occupations, but those were the assumptions I made from what they were wearing and their facial hair (one was well-groomed, the other looked like Willie Nelson).
Anyway, we were sittin' there, smoking and talking, and this short stocky weirdly shaped black guy comes walking by. Theres some kind of unusual ridge on his forehead.. like the combination of a Klingon's brow and the back of a fat man's neck. Or like a donut left to fry in the oil a little too long. After first noticing this, I intentionally try to ignore him, or I won't be able to look away. This doesn't work out though, cuz he walks up like he's thinking of asking me for a smoke, then when I meet his gaze, he made this snarl face, and walks on. Good. You're not gettin' a cigarette anyway.
Later when we all board the train, I take a seat in the priority seating area, where you're expected to move for seniors and people with disabilities. He comes walking up the aisle and I think to myself,
"He better not think i'm giving up my seat for his ass. As far as I know, ugly isn't considered a disability."
Big donuthead-lookin' ass.
Currently
listening
:
Thug Holiday
By
Trick Daddy
Release date: 2002-08-06
yes, thats the name of a porno. a very scary looking porno starring a bunch of scary looking muscular dudes that i sure as fuck wouldn't want to meet in a darkened jail cell.
well, we got the apartment! the downside: we can't move in until the first of the month. another plus: Betzu got accepted for being able to stay and work at the hostel on Hawthorne. Its got a fair share of amenities and is in the most happening part of Portland. that said, its crawling with the worst kind of hipster trash, but also plenty of straight up freaks and artists. she'll enjoy it there, around younger people, probably a lot more than being around us older fucks. that isn't my scene though. my intensity is contained and focused. inward. and i'm a divided soul... half being very loving and considerate of others, and half being sociopathic and hostile. oftentimes when i'm placed around young, idealistic people, the constant running of their mouth makes me want to scream "SHUT UP" over and over again and stab them a hundred times in the face with a fistful of dirty needles. flatly put, their youthful exuberance irritates me. i'm old enough that i can no longer relate to that, and i honestly don't miss it. i'm more comfortable being a lone wolf anyway. i can only tolerate the company of others for so long, and i'm already way past that point. even people who i know and love, i must get away from, from time to time, lest i fall into a cycle, a routine, a beartrap of repetition. i have to break out on my own very often, to find adventures, or just collect snapshots of life at its weirdest. i've got a knack for finding strange situations. i met an Americanized Norwegian cat named Stig and we ended up drinking beers in a bank parking lot and soon two longshoremen from Maine and Massacheusetts came to hear Stig strum his guitar, and to drink with us, shoot the shit, but eventually the cops came to shake up the party and Stig and I went to finish drinkin' behind a Taco Bell dumpster. Tomorrow, I plan on going to the mall and completing some surveys for money, then going straight to the arcade to play Area 51. my tooth bothers me, so I need to grab a plastic gun and fucking kill some shit. also funny: you can get sushi at the mall in Portland. yeah. no shit.
thats about it for right now. hope all is well with everyone back in M-town, and with my friends all over the USA.
I leave you with- Japan's legendary eardrum-crushing noise rock colossus ZENI GEVA and TRANSFORMERS : HEADMASTERS. together again for the first time.
Currently
listening
:
Nai-Ha
By
Zeni Geva
Release date: 1996-10-22
More and more, I realize that i'm no closer to knowing what the hell i'm going to do than ever before.
The search for an apartment has yielded only one good possibility, and I hope with a full heart it pans out. James & I need to leave my brother's house, its about time, and Betsy's in town now as well, also without a place to stay. So, hopefully we can hand over our applications and cash tomorrow and the light of fortune will shine on us all. If not, back to the goddamned drawing board. Or, worst case scenario? I may wind up having to return to Memphis far earlier than I want to. Time will tell... but I loathe waiting.
On another down note, i'm down to less than fifty bucks and my next check isn't due for another week. This means no bars or heap big fun for moi for a week.
I visited a gem store and a comic book store yesterday. There were things at both that I must make mine as soon as I can, but what i really want is the title of this blog. what i'd use it for, not too sure, but it would look ominous and therefore rock. No pun intended there. I'm also yearning for some Indian food. Aloo gobi in particular. I think i'll dig around on the web, and see if i can find good Indian in Portland, then go have me some when i get paid next.
Until then, Stagg chili and elbow macaroni, plus whatever else I can find. Actually, I may go to a church or something. I'm poor and, technically, i'm fuckin' homeless. Please give me some chicken noodle soup, I will love you forever and ever.
Also, while eating tortilla chips on Monday, it became painfully apparent that I have a bad tooth. It only hurts sometimes now. Sometimes is still too often though. But... reality is... I can do nothing about it right now.
Oh well, thats my current situation. I found a dollar on the street yesterday... hopefully that means things will be lookin' up soon.
i got paid last night, so my first order of business was to get my check cashed this mornin' and pay my rent then repay the money i'd borrowed from Rob to drink, eat and ride the train. CHOMP!!! half my money gone, eaten, like a fat kid wolfing down a cupcake. that's reality. anywho, later on my way to work, i'm a bit early, so i decide to stray off my usual path and go to the mall in Lloyd Center. not long after i enter the building, a fetching brunette grabs my attention. being a hyper-hetero guy alone in a new city, i'm easily drawn in. this girl is a perfect 10. more curves than a figure-8 and with a smile so pretty its debilitating. the short of it is she puts a little hyacinth oil on my right ring fingernail then gets to work on it, then presto-shazam, its shiny. beauty-ful! she asks me why my middle fingernail has an ugly purple bruise underneath it. i reply, telling her i've done some construction work recently, and that bruise came from a hammer. she's got her sales technique locked. she asks me if i have a girlfriend, then asks me why not. she tells me my name, Lev, means "heart" in Hebrew, and that her name is Maya [sic maybe] and she's Israeli. the whole time she's saying these things, her debilitating smile is crushing my willpower like two sumo wrestlers in a kiddie pool full of tomatoes. by the time she gets around to the nitty-gritty (which, if you know me, is preposterous), trying to sell me a manicure/pedicure set, i'm melting in my shoes. she's got me eating out of the palm of her hand. hell, she could've farted into my open mouth, and i would've asked for seconds. still, my resolve, teetering as it might've been, kept, and even after she lowered the price several times, including using the 'employee price' trick, i eventually had to say no. unless she would come to my house and do my nails once a week. she laughed, and i smiled. when i left her at her kiosk, i felt a little sad and a little exhilirated.
after that, i walked around people-watching a bit, then resumed my trip to work.
as you all know, i've found employment at a sex shop, right. porn dvds, lube, handcuffs, dildos, buttplugs, etc etc and a 14 booth arcade. my job is supereasy, but each day i have the gross but necessary duty to clean the arcade. this includes mopping the floors, pickin up random trash, cleaning any stray jism off of walls, and removing the garbage.
anyway
today, while i was cleaning, i turned a corner in the arcade and i saw a man standing around fully nude. fully completely tragically nude. i yelled at him to get his ass back in a booth an he scurried into one and shut the door. good thing he did. if he'd tried to point his tiny pecker at me, i'd have had to take it away from him.
i go into that booth about 10 minutes later after he'd left and what do i find in the trash can?
a cucumber.
you just can't make shit like that up.
anyway... that was my day. how was yrs?
Currently
listening
:
Altar
By
Sunn O)))
Release date: 2006-10-31
Day by day, things are improving here in my current stomping grounds. I have a little cash in my pocket and I work in a den of vice. How could this not rock?
I haven't really felt homesick. Not yet at least. I do, however, miss a lot of folks. You all know who you are. This myspace thing is a blessing where staying in touch is concerned. It might not be as personal as a phone call, but when you don't have minutes on yr phone, or maybe you don't have a phone at all, its good enough, dammit.
I'm getting annoyed with the troglodyte mentality of people who think they're making a statement by refusing to create a space. If you don't need one, or don't want to be accessable, thats fine, don't make one. I understand. Just don't tout it in conversation in a stupid attempt to look cool. Yes, this has actually happened. While you're at it, you don't need a cellphone either, right? How about this, the next time someone has a party, we'll send you a telegram.
*sigh* I miss making music, playing music. I'm nursing a very severe lack of rockin'. I haven't heard from Skred or Gray in forever. Legion of Divine Punishment hasn't broken up. I'd use the metaphor of a head trauma patient in a coma. One day that fucker's gonna sit up in his bed and when he does he's gonna be thirsty. The project Ben & I were supposed to throw together is, obviously, on hold for the time being. I'm bored. I need to rock, dammit! I need it and miss it more than sex. Haha. I guess its gonna be awhile. I haven't even made many new acquaintances here yet. But.... you all know me, Lev Hughes, the Boy Born Without Patience.
Something else before I get back to work: I've decided that on the slight, horrifying chance I someday procreate, that if I have a son, I will name him Ozzy. Ozymandias, actually, from the poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley.
I met a traveller from an antique land Who said: "Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert. Near them on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown And wrinkled lip and sneer of cold command Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed. And on the pedestal these words appear: ..My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings: Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!' Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare, The lone and level sands stretch far away.
Ozymandias is also a character in the graphic novel/soon-to-be-a-rad-beyond-belief movie Watchmen, but I won't go into that any further, as thats not why. And, like I need to mention it, Ozzy is also the name of the vocalist for this little rock and roll band you might have heard by the name Black Sabbath. Even in the event that my lover/girlfriend/wife/whathaveyou would rather name him something else, I will still call him Ozzy, as a nickname or whatever. Why? Because its a fucking awesome name. If yr name's Ozzy, yr automatically cooler than everyone else in yr kindergarten class. "Hi, whats yr name?" "Eric." "What's yr name?" "Connor." "What's yr name?" "I'm fuckin' Ozzy, bitch, go get me a chocolate milk."
I am now employed at an adult video and sex toy store, and the name of this post is the name of the store.
Incredible.
Some employee perks include free rentals and unlimited free condoms. I can use the internet at work, which is a first. You also encounter some very interesting people. An asian man came in today and began talking about Stamina Rx erection pills and somewhere along the line swerved the conversation to whether or not he should forgive his unfaithful, cokehead wife. Wha-!? I told him hell no. Ditch the bitch. I should have told him to take the biggest dildo we have for sale and after beating her with it, shove that shit down her throat and staple her nostrils shut. I should have, but I didn't. A cheating whore is his cross to bear. I'm sure he'll probably fall weak and take her back, but he wanted somebody to listen to his troubles. I guess my bartending experience is going to come in handy here.
Most of the customers are gay men in their 30s and 40s. I wonder how many of them are actually married and living a double life. I don't care enough to ask. I will say this, the dudes in the gay dvds all look like professional wrestlers, so being skinny and unattractive may work in my favor for once. "Not interested" is the understatement of the century. I plan on keeping my man-hymen unbroken until i'm dead and, one would hope, after.
So, yeah. Thats my new gig up here in Portland. So if anybody needs any lube, ballgags, Locker Room leather cleaner, or midget porn, well, you know.. get yr ass up here and lets rodeo.
There may be new developments, as soon as tomorrow, related to the employment status and, as a result, the overall mental calm of yours truly. I've thrown my name around all manner of places... gas stations, supermarkets, bars, even a meat processing plant. Hunger and boredom are great motivators. Finally, I may have gotten a break. I won't go further into it yet, because i'm superstitious lately, and would hate to jinx myself.
If it pans out, not a single one of you should be surprised by what it is.
In the meantime, I have two bucks to my name. No fun.
That hasn't stopped me from beginning to tackle the wily beast known in Portland as the MAX, the public lightrail train that unites much of the city. Its not only very convenient in getting my ass around, but it affords my eyes a visual feast of every imaginable sort of person. Oh, and I frequently get on and off without paying as much as one thin dime. Nobody seems to give a shit, so why should I, when deep in my heart, I absolutely don't.
I've spied a place not far from here called "Tupelo Joe's", that proclaims itself PDX's home for southern-style barbecue. Oh reeaaallllly... upon getting a wad of cash I can afford to part with, i'm going over to put their ribs to the test. Mmmm... riiiibs. Actually, after all the meatless pasta i've had to shovel down lately, even a tiny halfass charred-to-ashes rib would taste good to me, so the lev taste test really isn't worth shit. *sigh*
To all of my friends and friendly faces back home, the next time you get the opportunity, suck on a rib or three for yr man Lev.
Through some skullfucked twist of fate, this song has become my new obsession. If you don't like it, that's just too bad, innit?
"FOX ON THE RUN" by (The) SWEET
Currently
listening
:
The Best of Sweet
By
Sweet
Release date: 1993-05-04
jolly
relieved
jedi
hungry
amused
