joel · takes · the · world · by · the · hand

best show ever last night.

i wish my drums were here so bad. :(.

family is nice to have around sometimes.

i always get sappy and stuff when people leave even though i don't get to talk to all my family as much as i want to when they are here.

i think i'm going to try to get maximum sleep tonight. tomorrow is BLACK FRIDAY and i'm working 12pm-10pm at the levi's outlet in castle rock.

that being said, you should totally come bug me if you are in the area. or send me supportive super olympic sideline coach texts. i might be under stress from people, but i would LOVE LOVE LOVE to see a familiar face so much.

or you know, whatevs.

i've been worried about so many people lately and wondering what's up. i wish i was more in contact with people that i know, and saw them alot more often.

i better get to bed before i get way too sentimental!

goooood timesss.

is watching sonic youth, suicide, arthur russell videos/interviews/live shows all afternoon.

and i wish i had a time machine or something.

there's alot of really neat things going on these days, but i feel everyday that i'm slowly becoming not part of it.

i feel like it would have really been something special if i were witnessing the events on youtube before they were put up into space or whatever for us to all see.

i guess there's always the future though.

i need to find out what boat i need to be in and get in it.

I admit that I read every label of food that has a box, or reading material on it.

As I was eating my sandwich I started reading the back of a Paul Newman's "Newman's Own" Light Italian Dressing.

On the back I read the following:

[i]The Great Salad Balloon Race Across The Boot of Italy[/i]
An armada of balloons loaded with Light Italian. The Starters Gun - Bazoombah! They all rise majestically into the air. Newman's Own Balloon, with fewer calories, more taste, and secretly propelled by charity, fliest faster than Kraft and further than Wishbone. First across. First on the ground.


"El Piloto quaffs mucho quaffs of Newman's Own Light Italian in victory."


"A medium light Italian starlet, daughter of Butch Cassidini, named Bitch Cassidini, leapis into the balloon basket, kisses Piloto, her lips smeared with Newman's Own Light Light, she murmers, "You taste of Sicily, of Vesuvius, of Naples, baby" and patting his fanny she whispers, "and no fat."


Words of reflection : Bitch Cassidini. Are you fucking serious Paul?

There's no doubt that either:
A.) Paul Newman did write this. As he was tripping HARD with some homies down in Connecticut.
B.) Some dude thought it would be funny to play on "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" and either Paul let it slip. Or he thought it was fucking hilarious.

I don't know if it's brilliant. But it was definately more than the average Nutrition Facts box (which is there too if you feel like reading on.)

For salad literature, I think this is the best you are going to get.

I'm waiting for the day now that a RIOTGRRL band comes out called "Bitch Cassidini" and takes over the planet.

Infact, I encourage someone to start it really really soon. I'll be at every show, and make the merch. Let's do it.

i totally left my skateboard in my old apartment.

LAME.

will someone buy me this?

"you have to say hello even though you are scared,
you have to smile and believe that you have magic.
you're not a wizard for sure,
but something rad and sacred is there.
i promise

i want to be free but i don't know what that is
i'll try to stay in the clouds
even though my feet are in the river.
my ankles disconnected from my body,
just floating away
where did they go?
i saw them dancing and i wanted to be there.

i am not a miracle.

you don't have to kick the night in the face,
it will come to you and settle in.
you have these feelings and i know it's weird.
but you have to trust it you have to trust it oh oh.

i am not the sun.

and you'll sit alone and stare at the floor.
and you'll remember all the times where you were full of light.
and you'll roll around in the grass and see that nobody cared.

i am not a even a song.

but it's okay because you're still alive
and everything still shines and looks amazing.
and people come and go through you like a train station or something.
but you are there, and you will always be.

i am definately something.


so always say hello how are you?, i have magic and i want you to see,

give your welcome and let them know you come in peace.

and that's the best thing that you can be.

so don't ever ever think you aren't something.

people are just waiting for their train"

I've been out walking
I don't do too much talking
These days, these days.
These days I seem to think a lot
About the things that I forgot to do
And all the times I had the chance to.

I've stopped my rambling,
I don't do too much gambling
These days, these days.
These days I seem to think about
How all the changes came about my ways
And I wonder if I'll see another highway.

I had a lover,
I don't think I'll risk another
These days, these days.
And if I seem to be afraid
To live the life that I have made in song
It's just that I've been losing so long.
La la la la la, la la.

I've stopped my dreaming,
I won't do too much scheming
These days, these days.
These days I sit on corner stones
And count the time in quarter tones to ten.
Please don't confront me with my failures,
I had not forgotten them.

i'm bored.

hang outs need to happen, alot of them never do by my fault though.

i'm just in self-absorbed mode. i'm digesting the world around me.

i don't know if i should moveeeeeee.

i need change or something.

but how does it just feel so COMFORTABLE to stay at home and watch movies and shows and do unharmful drugs and dring lots of mineral water and eat free things by myself?????

i think i need a car.

sometimes i want to just drive far away and visit someone or go somewhere new.

i just need to leave sometime soon. sigh.

dear THE CITY OF DENVER,

i love you, but you are a fucking vampire to me.

and i'm done.

there are better cities out there, and i plan to go see them.

i'll come see you every weekend, and it will be nice.

but you are definitely not my home.

i hope we can still be friends.

love,
joel

My girlfriend, Becci, met Bjork.

It was like last week, but fuck. I was 3 blocks away and I missed it.

I MISS ALL THE GOOD STUFF.

what a horrible post the last one was.

HORRIBLE.

right now i'm thinking of tigers from now on. only tigers.

i will only listen to tiger bands, and wear tiger colored clothing. i will not listen to tiger army though because they are horrible. so actually, only tiger bands that i like.

i have to go take a tiger nap now though and listen to tiger saw. [go listen to them.]

THIS HAS BEEN A MESSAGE FROM TIGR RADIO. CLIMB A TREE WITH BIRKENSTOCKS AND SOCKS ON. OUT.

i'm kind of stressing out about an anarchist girl and her 3 year old kid sleeping on my floor for a week. not that i don't like helping people, but we dont' have a couch or anything to sleep on and our apartment is small. and i was just getting used to the small space and using it efficiently. am i an asshole?

the funny thing is that my roommate is actually quite excited about this. like we're going to have a new family or something.

i have the theme music already composed.

i figured that most of my friends are anarchists. i don't think it's that bad of a thing. and i like playing benefit shows so that people can eat. but, i'm a capitalist bastard. i want a job that treats me easy, and i come home and i spend money and i buy packaged food. and i like living in a home with heat, with some plants, and a tv on with some stupid shit i can ignore. and i eat at big corporations because they make consistent food and it might make me sick but i don't mind.

republicans and democrats are just people who seem to want to fuck people over in different ways. and green party will never gain support. so where do i stand?

i don't know.

i'm not hopping trains though and starting collectives.

instead i would rather be a cat and sit in a warm apartment staring at 13th ave. and if shit got rough i wouldn't have a home and i'd have to eat mice and random debris, but if i had a home i would sit there and look. it's simple.

okay, i'm idealistic.

i'm a boy looking out of a 2-story window, pretending to work sometimes, and will probably be unemployed soon if i keep it up.

that's all i know

snow + sick + no money + moving = what the fuck is going on.