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Archive for April, 2009

Last night I stay up until 3 or 4 AM playing online Euchre. It is still better than heroin. (I assume.)

Hurray! This morning I went on my first tour jog! But wait, let’s start at the beginning. My stylish white denim shoes did get a bit muddy, but it was worth it. We’re staying at a house on a British nature reserve. It’s quite lovely. I jogged down a path and found myself at the top of a gully/gulch, overlooking a Bristol castle and bridge. Quite sunny and refreshing, so I ran back to the house and convinced Jeff to come jog out there with me.

Tonight’s show was utter mud. Although I finally got Jeff and Dave to play “Walk Into The Mirror.” Dave said it stank. I liked it.

Back at the nature preserve house I started playing Euchre. Our host Rose showed us these sound therapy orbs. They hum and vibrate in a quite extraordinary way. IF you close your eyes and breath I can see them being quite useful. Her mom uses them in her homeopathic practice. Rose did played drums on a tour with Adrian Orange and he borrowed a bunch for the tour.
There were some bells and drums and Asian flutes hanging around the house, so we all jammed out. I tried jamming and playing online Euchre at the same time. Then I just jammed for bit. (Pinata editor might have listened to a bit via-g-audio [disappointing… -Ed.].)

Then I went back to the Euchre.

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It’s a little chilly out here in this country house.

I was home in NY for one day and felt really good. Better than I’ve felt in a while. I don’t know if it was the acupuncture from a few days earlier or the result of a long walk and a lot of completed chores and a bevy of purchases. (Why is it that buying “stuff” feels like such an accomplishment? Maybe more on that later.) Or maybe it was the fact that I had a good time seeing my friend Tyler.

Anyhow, I bought two pairs of sneakers at Century 21. I’m not sure if either pair fits me well. They had a plastic tag, which apparently means that I cannot walk around the store with them on. One pair was white denim (denim? really? -Ed.). I liked the way they looked. The other was a pair of New Balance sneakers that I mean to use for jogging or tennis. Because I do so much of those things…
I’m supposed to jog on this tour; Marci said so. I believe her.
Every morning I am to jog a few miles. Maybe it begins tomorrow. But then there’s this:
When I was leaving for the airport I feared my bag was overweight; one pair of shoes had to be sacrificed. Yeah. And so now I have only my white denim (again, denim? -Ed.) shoes that aren’t so white anymore. Isn’t life hard?

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I’m reading Philip Roth’s The Human Stain. It’s putting me in a poor mood. It’s macho and sexist, which seems to be precisely what Roth is shooting for. I feel he’s just as cynical and whiny as I am trying NOT to be. But then I’m not trying very hard. And he’s a very successful author. And I can’t tell how hard he’s trying. He’s definitely works harder than I. As do most of his characters. But then, who doesn’t? Bums, maybe? (I feel like they put in some pretty good shifts. -Ed.)

The night before on the car ride back from Cambridge to London, I had my leg raised in the car. Eventually I developed a horrible leg cramp; the most extreme pain; muscles freaking out. I couldn’t find any position that would help. Dave held a banana for me eat. Finally I got the car to stop so I could walk around. If it’s not one thing it’s another.

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It’s Saturday.
I wake up around 1 or 2 PM. We’re going to Coventry tonight, to the home of Don’t Move (our opening band for the tour).

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There is some discussion about splitting up the money. I go to the store and get some carrots and hummus. In the car there is more money discussion.

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I take the grapes and fruit from the night before into the club.
The floor of the dressing room is wet. It is a horrible feeling to walk on it.
We’re given what may be good whiskey at the end of the show. Neither Dave nor I can drink much of it.
Once again, my plan to get drunk at the shows isn’t working. I just can’t do it. If I drink before the show I sweat it all out on stage and have to start all over again. I guess I’m supposed to drink while on stage and try and keep it tied on (I may have already posted this exact though).

Back at the house there is a very energetic dog. He appears nice. It’s initially charming that he likes to jump up and “hug” you, but it soon becomes rather less charming. In the morning he’s confined to the sunroom and barks incessantly. It occurs to me that he might need to relieve himself, so I let him into the backyard. The neighbors are having a little party for their three year old. The dog almost climbs over the fence and I almost have a heart attack. I’m in my boxers; they must think it’s my dog. They must hate me and my barking dog.

The dog does not go to the bathroom.

Back inside I lock him up again and he starts barking. I let him into the kitchen. After a few moments of peace the barking resumes. I let him roam around the house. He’s quiet for a while and then, yeah, the barking. He stops when I join him in the kitchen. He wants attention. Or a job. He’s like me. (I think he actually needs some sheep to herd.)

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the world’s greatest mascot.

daring you to make sense of it all...

daring you to make sense of it all...

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welcome, readers!

for those of you who have found us by searching for:

“how to say i’m fat like a pinata in spanish”

glad to have you on board.

-MBD

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Hello everybody! I am Jorge Posada. I play catcher for the Yankees. Do you remember the blog I wrote on the team website but then stopped because people are mean? I do. I am making the blog again now.

What did I do today? Today I played baseball with the Yankees. It was fun. I caught the ball because I am the catcher. I was happy. See you later.

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dr-chewsoloud1

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