Please insert one of my previous entries about sexual frustration, self-loathing, regret, and impotent rage here. Thanks! Together, we can save LJ space.

From: king77Kharrison@nonet.com
Subject: Three people have used that very phrase about Kaulbach to me today alr…
Date: October 8, 2004 11:10:05 PM PDT
To: me

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I entered the parking lot with some difficulty because of young drunk people in mating mode staggering about. This is because parts of the grocery store parking lot are used for the local bad meat market bar on busy nights. To make sure that the young drunk people only park in the appropriate spaces, a security guard is stationed there.

Tonight’s guard was the stereotypical tall wide bald phlegmatic black man. I think that certain types of security guys must by law be bald as well as huge. As I pulled up, he was reminding some giddy ugg-boot girls in a convertible Mustang to park further down in the lot. He had to say it three times before they comprehended and buzzed off.

I said “You must hear yourself saying that in your sleep”. He replied “This job is all about repetition”.

“Drunk people,” I said, “are your business. And drunk people require a lot of repetition”.

He nodded and looked thoughtful. “I have learned Drunkenese at this job!” he announced happily.

Breakfast… Cookie… Meal? I have a headache now.

I took advantage of the last days of ljbook.com to make a book of my LJ to date. Since I donated, I could put everything in it, comments images blah. My LJ to date is 184.8 megabytes of PDF. Holy cow.

On the patio, barely ambulatory.

From an AP story about a fatal bus crash:

Fredonia Gay, who lives three miles from the crash site, was awakened by passing medical helicopters. “The helicopters kept coming over my house, and I knew it would be something tragic,’’ she said. “They kept coming and coming.’’

It’s not really a wine for sipping, more of a wine for lying down and avoiding.

Went to see Richard Thompson’s “1000 Years of Popular Music” show with redmaenad at the Barclay.

As usual with RT he put on a great show with some ouchy bits. He’s a sea of great talent with a few islands of mediocrity. The very old stuff (Summer is icumen in, the medieval Italian ballad, etc.) were great. Later stuff, especially American pop, dragged badly.

He did sing one of those wonderfully depressing Scots ballads about mothers murdering their children though, which is always a crowd-pleaser. And “Shenandoah”, which is one of my favorite songs. All the stuff about the Missouri River in that song stirs for me severe homesickness for Kansas City, a place I only spent nine months in. For some reason KC calls to me more than any place I’ve lived, perhaps because I was alone and happy there.

He did his usual fine rendition of the Britney hit and ended with Bowling for Soup. Also, “Out of an Orange Colored Sky” was kick-ass. Not so much with his Squeeze cover or a really dreary rendition of a Kinks number.

I really do miss Kansas City and Lawrence. Beautiful seasons, quiet, nice people, and that wonderful feeling of being alone and exploring a new place. I never thought I’d be nostalgic for cold scabby trees in the dead of winter next to Kill Creek.