clarity

I need to set the record straight...

I was not hungover in that pic ↓

Jerry, on the other hand, reaked something awful of crown and stale tobacco. It was the longest ride home.

Speaking of hangovers...

I title this next story "8:48". Buckle up ~ it's gonna be a nasty ride.

put a fork in me

Ahhhhhh....!!!

I am coming off a music induced adrenaline high. I am calling it MORI (aka Magic of Radiohead Part I), without a doubt there will be MORII and if the gods are good to me, MORIII. I peg myself as a die hard Radiohead fan (borderline fanatic) and, for the first time in the 10 years I have been following the boys, report I am no longer a Radiohead virgin.

I like to call this

"THE DAY AFTER" [yes i am wearing my concert T - no I did not wear it during the show]


Radiohead was positively an invigorating experience and incredibly personal. An emotional rollercoaster, if you will. The show, packed with hundreds of Dallas locals, hipster kids, and one man in a banana suit, far exceeded my expectations. Radiohead mesmorized me with their melodic, sometimes haunting magic, leaving me hungry for more. I am not one to gush about emotion and when I do break the seal [wink] I try to be subtle about my feelings, but allow me to dork out for a second and state for the record that during the 120 minute show (give or take) I connected with the music in a way that paralyzed me. I did not wig out like a 15 year old teeny bopper at her first Beatles concert, but I did tear up during their debut performance and it was not the only time. Radiohead delivered each song with power, passion, and creativity in a way that opened and fed my soul. Due to lack of a more fullfilling phrase I can assure you that during those 120 minutes I was moved over and over again. At one point I turned to Nikki and shouted, with a big fat grin, "this is one of the happiest moments of my adult life". You don't get that sort of sentiment often from me. Unforgettable. For those of you who quesetion how, this is living.

I had a difficult time choosing a video clip to share with you guys from Radiohead's Dallas show. I chose Fake Plastic because it was the second moment I teared up during the show and it was a brilliant performance. It was also the most surreal moment of the night for this girl. When I wasn't getting sappy, I was dancing my ass off and screaming into some dude's right ear who was standing at an alarmingly close distance in front of yours truly. When I watch this clip, in addition to other performances from this incredible show, I still get chills.

"But I can't help the feeling...I could blow through the
ceiling...If I just turn and run..."

5 days and counting...

we hope that you choke, that you choke, that you choke

coming soon to a computer near you

that dickie hard at work again...




marlow the tease...

"how u doin"


SUMMER '08
MARLOW AND DICKIE

don't call it a comeback

As birds were beginning to chirp this morning, I was enjoying a rather intense sexual rendezvous when I was disrespectfully interrupted by my iPhone, imitating church bells, fullfilling its daily 5:45 a.m. duty of waking me from golden slumbers knowing I have no plan to clear the sheets a second before 7:15. No day should start out this disappointing before making a complete exit out of slumbersville. Naturally, I wished upon the dream fairies to teleport me back to the euphoric entaglement but instead found myself reunited with odd acquanitnances and long lost friends together as a group in my high school gymnasium for no particular event. Double wammie. Lost sex dream faced with memories of the dorks of my youth I fought so hard to forget.

It…it…it t’was…SOAP POISONING….!!!

taking a break, blog for 'ole times sake, clearing my thoughts, connecting the dots...

[eat your hearts out rapper wannabes....don't hate the magic]

I've got an idea...take a look at this devil...



Folks, I would like you to meet my roommate, and dear family friend, Jerry Oscar Seinfeld. Don’t be fooled, Jerry is not a full blooded canine of the Jack Russell Terrier family. Jerry's blood runs half rodent/half dinosaur. Clever kid that one - struggles with ambition. After his bout with Seasonal Affective Disorder the die hard started putting in 14 hour days at The Weekend Theatre working directly under Frits Milchowsky, Director of Events and Sr. Casting Exec. These days when Jerry comes home at night, correction if Jerry comes home at night, he demands a double scotch and water, hops on the couch where he inevitably passes out, and tests my sanity with ceaseless snoring. When he can't sleep at night Jerry escapes the demands of art by means of a phony myspace account posing as "Chino", a Vegas promotions manager at The Mandalay Bay Casino and Resort who was born and raised with his 2 brothers, 1 sister, and 1 half brother in a little town called Moapa Valley. Jerry doesn't think I notice the light shining through the door crack at 3 am but I do. Half the time I don’t know whether he’s coming or going. True story: two nights ago Jerry walked through the front door at 9 pm, puked on the hardwoods, then proceeded to clean up the brown concoction half single malt scotch whisky half dead bird with the tongue of his very own mouth. Jerry means well, he does. This is the first month Jerry has been able to make rent, on time and in full, and I am really trying to give the little guy a second chance. Having dabbled with depression last month I feel its necessary to keep the boat steady if ya know what I mean.

I promised Jerry a plug: If you are looking to get out this weekend please keep in mind The Weekend Theatre's rendition of "Sailor's Do Cry" debuts Saturday evening, curtain call at 8:15.

For those of you unaware, I am studying to become a certified personal trainer. The course is kicking my ass. There was no "welcome" section to this 2 year course. Instead, International Sports Science Assoc. jumps head first into what I would compare to advanced 6th grade physical science. I had to refer to dictionary.com on the first word referenced in unit 1 - Sedentary. Go ahead and laugh if you wish. I had no clue what sedentary meant but you can be sure I throw it around during conversation whenever remotely pertainable. To make matters more difficult, I am simultaneously attempting to get in shape. I killed myself at the gym last week only to become a lazy dog ("SEDENTARY") all weekend, consuming my body with an abundance of carbs mixed with a large portion of fatty acids that quickly made my butt their permanent home. At 10 pm Sunday eve I found myself sprawled out on the couch englufing a cone containing two hefty scoops of pistachio almond ice cream. I woke up this a.m. with an upset belly feeling sluggish and guilty.

I know you are already thinking what I am screaming - I am going to be one excellent personal trainer.

Naylor, here is your riddle.

golfer boy, golfer boy where'd you get that swing?
we met on the roof after a night of drinking.
"welcome ladies" in his baratone voice...
"you don't say" is naylor's phrase of choice.
the pga working you 12 hour days
with a year-round tan from the hot sunrays.
we cut up a rug in dallas 06
learned jager and sauasage are not a good mix.
naylor sailor tailor you're special alright
lets go find a patio and catch up some night.

In closing, I must wish Ms. Phillips a very Happy 31st!

~ Josie

ode to matthew

matthew oh matthew where does your garden grow
i have fallen for a man cant deal with no ho
lookin so pretty while singing pretty in pink
just give him your number and pass him a wink
oh no, he says, i am too meek
do you think he'd call by the end of the week?
for sure, i declare, you're honest and true
a gentleman would be happy to have you.
sit tight and drink that last glass of wine
we'll be passing out shots in a matter of time.
a catch you are with that carebear stare
tell me matthew why didn't you pay for cab fare?