more odds and ends

Bromance by Mark Tully (www.Bromance.blogspot.com)

so theres this side project
that youve heard of but not really. its called bromance
and you dont get it cause youre not in it.
if you wanna kinda sorta get it but not really then come to a show tommorow
thats in a place that you wanna know and i wanna tell you
but not really. so if you wanna come you know what my phone number is
and if you dont then you can ask i think.
bromance is really awesome and youd rather be dead
than not listen to it. trust me.
im trustworthy.


The Mizeducation of April Hurley by April Hurley (www.zonedout.blogspot.com)

Yea today was aiight.
I went out to eat with Janet, her lil sister Natty and Colleen. The place we went to eat at
was straight.
the food was pretty damn good actually.
After that Colleen went t Ft. Myers w/ Issac and Janet and I chilled. We rented
some more movies n Janet went to wash her car. As we pulled up to dry it off
some busted ass niggah came up to me
asking me for my number
and then for some money for the bus. Made me sick to my stomach .
I told him I had a boyfriend.
God
guys like that make me
so fucking sick.
N e way, it was straigth chillen w/ Janet. Since Colleen has a man n Janet n I r free.
We r chillen a lot now. but I have no hope. I'm ugly
and I'm looking for "the one" so yea expect me to go to prom stag...
I'm a Jr. by the way..
Damn it why does life have to be so fucking hard.
I'm fustrated.... so fuckinf fustrated. Maybe I'm not playing the game right...
who knows......
Not much to say. I'm kinda upset about dating.
God I mean I swore I would never ever make myself inferior
to the true person I am inside. But a it seems..
I'm gunna have to...
.. .I guess.
DAMN IT

I Wet the Bed by sonny (www.withered.blogspot.com)
If your the type of person
that opens a can of soda drinks half then leaves it...
i hate you.
These type of people are the scum of the earth
and do this act habitually and
it is disturbing.
If these types of people are to purchase their own can of soda surely
they will drink the whole thing.
These people attack at parties and work functions
or at work on a normal day -- you know who you are and i dislike you
and want to shove the half can of soda beer whatever
into your ear hole until soda drips down your neck from it
and you get all sticky
and you realize that the stickiness on your neck and how it bothers/irritates you
is how i feel about you
when i find a half empty can of beverage

Ok, so Bullshit is/are kind of dead, but not really.

Who knows. The last issue never really worked out. parts here:


Embrace the Barthag! How to:
Become a Fucking Hippy

Boy do I hate hippies. Always being annoying, talking about saving the earth and fighting the system and other bullshit. You guys think you know, but you don't. I know what makes you tick...

Of course, hippies Loooove world music, you fucking crunchy pseudo-revolutionary piece of shit. Os Mutantes were/are are a psychedelic 60’s pop band from Brazil, kind of a Latin Mothers of Invention, with more coordinated vocals. They are a band that excite and impress other dirty shit-eating hippies like you, great for any large gathering, and you can talk about the Tropicalia movement or rice cakes or something. Brushes, bongos, rhythm sticks, oos and aahs, organ, fuzz, brushes on toms, guitar solos, tape manipulation. Karma surfboard tango funk teen bop.

Tyrannosaurus Rex, A.K.A. Devendra Banhart version 1, quavers like a crane-throated Brahmin on a silken cloud, on ACID or some shit, you despicable mob of drug swallowing, organic worshipping out-of-work farm hands. Mark Bolan (who wrote about 40 songs about cars but never got a license or drove a car because he was afraid a car would kill him, and who died when his girlfriend drove him into a tree) basically made up a sound and spit 4 albums the way you or I would say, cook bacon (does that bother you, you stinky vegan basement troglodyte?). Later, dude changed the band to T.Rex and wrote ’Get It On (Bang a Gong)’, but that’s the electric glam stuff. I’m talking about the raga-bongo simmering string journey faerie legend stuff.

And no salamander road-crossing assistance gathering or maypole dancing is complete without the Incredible String Band. Scottish ne’er do wells who combined their folk with a bunch of stringed instruments from Morroco, no exponential folk group can safely list their influences in a Spin interview without name dropping these thrumming, mystic longhairs. Lyrically, ISB fares better than Tyrannosaurus Rex (and probably Os Mutantes because you don’t even speak Spanish), in that while there are lots of talking animals and water running over stones, they wrote some very effective folk songs with more of a personal and conversational angle.

Kestrel friend,
Wicker-wired pebble caster
Pattering across the billowing wastes
Leather flap encumbered and jangling
Of your master’s key.

Spread your puffy willow throat
And cry the way I told you,
The way the skyburst oysters do
In my father’s country.

The winds smell of persimmon and ivory,
Swaying the rough-shinned date palms
Whispering outside our door
Like anxious matrons.