8.31.03
i went to the bar last night to hear my brother’s band, Boogie Chain, play. they were really great, of course. but as i’m sitting there in this bar, this bar that i’ve played at several times, this bar that i’ve been to many a night, i saw a dog, a boxer dog, sitting there looking kinda stoned and mellow. i said to Flippy Chinchilla, “god, you just know you’re in alabama when you see a dog in a bar.”
Flippy says, “no, you know you’re in alabama when you see a dog in a bar and no one has a problem with it.”
that poor dog, imagine how miserable it would be for that poor dog with the uber-hearing and smell.

anyway, later on dad says, “you know, i’ve never seen a fight in this place, ever. i’ve seen fights in all the other bars over the years, but never this one.
ya gotta know that jinxed it.

about 1:30am a fight breaks out while BC is playing the Vampire Song by Concrete Blonde (i heart that song). cindy and i were playing a video game when the fight breaks out so i turn to look at dad to give him the “you had to say that earlier didn’t you?” look, but dad wasn’t there!

“oh shit, cindy,” i say, “where’s dad?”
“jaimie! where’s your dad?”

well dad was over there trying to help break up the fight. oh hell, i thought, he’s gonna get hurt or worse, arrested.*

luckily neither happened and the fight broke up.

so the band played on.
and then after about 30 seconds of the song another fight broke out. this time the ugly lights came on and the bartender jumped over the bar and yelled for everyone to pay their tabs and “get the fuck out!”

meanwhile katy (singer) is up there with a microphone and the band has stopped playing and she throws some fuel on the fire by saying, “y’all need to chill out you stupid rednecks. we drive all the way from tennessee to play and y’all fuck it up for everyone by being stupid rednecks.”

one of the rednecks took exception to what katy had to say and headed for the stage. luckily three guys were there to “stop” him, and double luck the police had gotten there and saw that this ass was heading for the stage to get katy. he went to jail.

sure, katy shouldn’t have taunted the rednecks, but still i think that if someone is drunk enough and volatile enough to come at a girl then he pro’ly needed to “cool down” and spend the night in jail.

well, during the second fight everyone went everywhere and people were pushed about like you would believe and cindy and i got separated. two girls standing next to me went down hard and i asked the one closest if she was ok. she had tears in her eyes and was holding on to the dog. the dog said, “jaimie, please get me outta here, m’kay?” the girls were fine just a little drunk. i looked around for cindy and she was behind the bar…which was probably the safest place to be.

when i left there was broken glass everywhere, four guys with ripped shirts (one with no shirt at all), four cop cars and two guys on their way to jail.

seems to me i have fun wherever i go.

*later when talking to dad i asked him what the hell he was doing trying to break up a fight. he said that he went over there to help out and as he got over there and was helping he thought, “what am i doing?! i could get hurt or worse, arrested!”

8.30.03
so i wake up this morning and there’s no more
poptarts. shit. i’m a firm believer in food with brightly colored fruit filling. so i go to the store and buy more poptarts. actually, i haven’t eaten a “true” poptart in a long time, i’ve been eating the quaker oats toasties..toastums…toastosterones…whatever they are. they’re like wheat poptarts so it seems more healthy and grown up…except for the fluourescent fruit filling. which i love. anyway. tangent.

so i go to the store and i buy two boxes of the quakers tarts (2 for $4. whattadeal i tell ya) but i think, “y’know, what if i don’t want a poptart? what else can i have? is there anything else out there besides easy poptarts?” and so my brain says, “thank god, jaimie. you’ve finally thought about something other than poptarts. i’m so fucking tired of eating those things every morning. you know, only psychos eat the same thing for years and years.” so i said, “shut up brain. it takes one to know one.” huh. tangent.

so i bought some bagels and generic, fat free cream cheese. like hell i’m splurging on brand name, fattening cream cheese for my brain. especially after he called me a psycho.

the bagel was good. but i still kinda missed the fruity filling.

8.28.03
i’m listening to charles mingus. haitian fight song. i like this kind of jazz. not the kind that doesn’t go anywhere or has no melody. i like the kind that starts out as a song and then falls apart in the middle and everyone gets a solo and then it falls apart together and then goes back into the original song.

i was going to take my ear rings out, but i can’t figure out how. either i inhaled too many paint fumes today or these things are tricky.

8.27.03
so i just got back from the bar.
too much fun.
great band.
great beer.
you should have been there. i saved you a seat and everything.

8.26.03
ok, so i’m back from my not-relaxing-too-short-all-was-rushed-so’s-i-could-see one-of-everything louisiana vacation. now you don’t have to ask how it was. but i’ll tell you anyway, probably in the form of a weekly coming to inboxes near you!

also, i read The Patron Saint of Liars by Anne Patchett. great book. i was pleasantly surprised by the three POV the book has. it actually works. my favorite would have to be the last one, the daughter, cecilia. anyway, it’s fabulous.

8.21.03
i went to the bar again last night. great jazz music. i love beer. if i had a dog, i’d name it beer.

also, dad just killed a rat. with a gun. no lie. does that not sound like the most redneck thing, ever?
gosh, i love beer.

i got the newer sinead o’connor CD (sean-nos nua) the other day. i haven’t decided if i like it yet. maybe i’ll grab a beer and give it another listen.

8.19.03
i just finished reading Samaritan by Richard Price. it was a good “whodunit”. it had me guessing the whole time and i didn’t get it right, so there you go. it was kind of hard to relate to seeing as how i wasn’t raised in the ghetto in new york in the ’60s and ’70s. well, i mean, the book takes place in the present and all, but the main guy keeps flashingback and telling stories of his childhood and oh hell nevermind. don’t read it unless you like to read. otherwise it’s just boring and not even funny. but still, pretty good for a whodunit.

8.18.03
i have found that diet dr pepper isn’t so bad if it’s ice-fucking cold. the less cold it is the more you can taste the chemically inhanced poison flavor.

also, i found out today that my father hates the song in the year 2525 and will go to great lengths to turn the radio to a different channel just to avoid hearing it. i can see his point. i only heard the first two or three lines and it’s been in my head for the last 5 hours.

oh damn, i just saw ann coulter’s name down there in blue. feh. i hate her.

8.17.03
i saw
ann coulter on larry king last night. god, i can’t stand that vitriolic beeatch. she’s like a slightly better-looking rush limblah only she has less charisma and her voice is lower than his. also, she is a man.

made this for the schweet schishtah. i heart her site.

8.16.03
i learned a new word today from my time magazine, metrosexual. seeing as how i’ve learned it from time i figure that word has been floating around the internet for about 3-8 months. how come i’ve just learned it from time? obviously i haven’t been surfing in the right places. is there a chicwords.com?

8.15.03
such the pranksters we are! played a prank on some friends. it involved a late night drive, car alarms, booze, and much giggling.

in other news: i went to the CD store today and bought softly with these songs the best of roberta flack. it’s wonderful. but while i was there i passed the “reject bin” and saw out of the corner of my eye judy and liza together. i gasped, “joy!” and proceeded to the counter with my roberta and slashed priced gay man music. well, it TURNS OUT that the reject bin was buy one get one free. FREE! so i went back and rummaged through the various Mega-Dance-Hit-Party-Hits-Dance-Craze-Urban-Mega-Dance-Hits and the shitload of random reggae and gregorian chant knock-offs thinking that maybe the jude&liza thing was fluke. but then there was this CD that stood out, helen carr: the complete bethlehem collection. and it looked like a jazz record or something and so i wrestled between that and the ’80s smokey robinson album. it’s smokey, but also, it’s ’80s smokey. i mean, smokey is smokey, i’m sure that album is great but for some reason i was drawn to the jazz.

long story short: the free jazz album is fucking great.

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