December 08, 2007


The night of the ice storm, me and Al had a tea party and talked about free love and what being over thirty is about. It'll have to do for a while, since last night he left town and moved to Carrboro. Home again, home again, jiggity jog.

Years ago, when Milemarker moved to town from Carrboro, c. Frigid Forms, I heard they were anarchist-socialist assholes. Turns out they were actually inspiring radical weirdos, nicer than most anyone from these parts. I think people were pissed because they were the best band in town and already popular--they were so inspiring, radical and weird, it showed the rest of us up.

P1040028.jpgIn the years since then he's been my neighbor, my room-mate, my editor, my family, my band-mate, my tour mate, my art coach, my anarchist-socialist asshole--and, if you ask our old landlord--my no good ex-husband as well. Bye friend! See you soon!

Look closely--can you spot the hidden bicycle in this image?

If you read Nelson Algren's Neon Wilderness and imagine it any other way than this, well, you imagined wrong. If he's writing about Polish people and they aren't in a bar or apartment on Division, this is right about where they are.

Or they might be here, where Miles is standing. I lured him out into the snowstorm with a gingerbread muffin I made, like in a fairytale.

I did not bake him into a pie or strand him in the forest though. Instead, we went to The Crotch, and JR showed us proof of his cop blood. Homemade target, shot with bebes--a perfect bulls eye at 10 feet.

This week's motto: SKATE OR DIE!

After skate night, there was the Auxes/Head of Skulls/Yakuza show. It was so nice to see my old friends and former bandmates, and Mike Triplett, who plays in Auxes too. Mike was in a coma, but now he's in this band. Everyone is psyched he lived to shred again. Auxes closed their set with a Wipers cover; fists were pumped and lifted towards heaven.

JR was there, channeling Donald Fagen.

Ben was acting hard over by the hunting video game.

After seeing five jazz shows in the last week, it was funny to see someone play a saxophone with their shirt off, then sort of air-fuck it and then scream and growl and jump in the pit, but that's how Bruce Lamont rolls-- the sole force behind putting reed instruments into progressive shred metal.

I bet theres a few dozen ladies in town that would pay cash money for that sort of attention from Bruce.

As I took this picture, Al was saying "Oh great, another picture to put on your blog." THAT'S RIGHT BOY-O!

Posted by Jessica at December 8, 2007 09:31 PM | TrackBack