So Hillary Clinton and crew have succeeded in getting Grend Theft Auto pulled from stores because there's a patch you can download in the PC version that lets you unlock a sex scene. And in the console version you can unlock it if you have whatever Game Genie type device exists these days. Anyway, the fact that our government got involved and pulled this game from stores and forced it to switch ratings from the M (17+) rating to an adults only rating, effectively making the game porn. Here's where I have a problem with this. R rated movies, which are marketed at the exact same audience as an M rated game are allowed to have much more graphic sex scenes than GTA (both people are fully clothed in GTA) and there are hundreds of movies that exist on store shelves like this. Yet somehow in a game sex is an offense worth banning the game for? Videogames aren't just a kids thing anymore, because all the kids who grew up on videogames are grown up now. We like games sometimes that don't feature cartoon characters jumping on each other. Maybe something a little more mature than that. Not that I'm saying I need sex in my videogames, but I don't see what the giant issue is here. If the argument is that children have access to the game, the same argument can be made about R rated movies - kids can get into them with an adult at theaters, or just watch them at home after their parents buy or rent them. Plus, little kids who shouldn't be seeing the videogame sex probably wouldn't know how to download the patch and install it, or use the Game Genie to input the correct codes. Yet I like how this is what the big deal is, and not the fact that you can have sex with a hooker in your car (but you can't see it), pay her, hop out and kill her and take your money back. Or the fact that it realistically portrays gang violence, killing innocent people, etc. For the record, I have no problem with that either, it just goes to show how prudish we still are about sex. You know, sex is what keeps the human race from going extinct, yet we treat it like it's some kind of disease to be avoided at all costs. So there goes my vote for Hillary Clinton in '08 if she decides to run. Dumb bitch. I have a serious problem with censorship.

Officemax has been pretty boring so far, just sitting in the break room listening to policies and whatnot. Tomorrow I think I'm actually going to do some work, so that's exciting, I guess. What's not exciting is that I have to go in at 7am for a meeting, then come back at 3 to work until close. But whatever. What else would I be doing? All the people I've met that I'm going to work with seem cool, and all the girls who work there are hot, so I can't complain about anything in the HR department as of yet. The bosses seem a little strange, but overall it seems like a nice place to work. We'll see. It'll really be the customers that make or break this job, and if my previous experience with customers is any indication, I'll be wanting to kill someone by next week. Speaking of next week, Brian comes to visit on the 26th. Fun times are sure to ensue. Probably not fun times as in getting drunk and laid every night, but more like fun times like playing videogames and generally being huge nerds. Cause I'd by lying to you if I said we weren't huge nerds.

I got two new books yesterday. Vurt by Jeff Noon, which I read half way when I was waiting for Leslie to get her nails done. It's a really cool scifi type book about these drugs that are contained in feathers that put you in like another world, kind of like virtual reality but a different dimension. The main character lost his sister in one of the particularly bad feathers and got this alien in exchange, and he's trying to find this super rare feather so he can go in and trade the alien back for his sister. Sounds weird, and it is, but it's really good. Then I got Americana by Don DeLillo because I liked White Noise by him last summer, I think I'm taking a class on him next semester, and the back of the book made it sound interesting. Guy gives up his cushy life to travel across the country with a videocamera. Sounds like my kind of book.

I went driving up inthe mountains alone yesterday and it was pretty awesome. I took along a lot of good punk rock driving music: Cadillac Blindside, Lawrence Arms, Descendents, Against Me!, and Less than Jake. Sung at the top of my lungs until my throat hurt, drove way too fast around sharp corners, and generally enjoyed being the only car on the road. I was going to drive over some pass, but the road got too shady for me, all bumpy and stuff, and I didn't want to damage my car so I turned around. Kind of lost momentum after that, but whatever. If I get bored enough again I might do it today and just keep going but not take that pass and see if I can ever make it to a town. There are lots of houses up there, big expensive ones, and ranches, but no towns. No gas stations, no grocery stores. I don't know where these people get their stuff unless they just eat what they raise. A 45 minute drive into Fort Collins for gas seems a little ridiculous though. Ah, well, it cleared my mind for a while and wasted a couple hours of my time, and that's all I needed it to do.

It's hot hot hot here. Like around 100 degrees every day. Yeah. I don't have anything to say about that, just felt like pointing it out.

As far as Sarai goes, it's hard to talk about here because she reads this every now and again, but I have no idea what's going on there. I'm thick and clueless to begin with so that doesn't help any. I guess we're just going to see what happens when she gets back, but I have no idea if she's interested in dating or just friendship or what. I guess that mystery will reveal itself in time, but as for now, count me clueless. Her parents made her get rid of her pink hair though, and that's really disappointing, though the red-brown color it is now is still pretty cool. Just not pink.

Leslie and I are talking more now than we were for a while, and that's nice. I think she's coming to visit on Sunday assuming I have the evening free and nothing comes up on her end. That should be fun. I haven't seen her in months now. So that'll be nice.

And I guess that's it. It's been pretty slow, this update was kind of forced, but whatever. Enjoy your summer, I hope it's cooler there than it is here.

Hello everyone. It’s Friday, and, in conjunction with this joyous time, I present to you the latest installment in my musical journey through hell. I’m hoping that the extreme euphoria you possess knowing that the weekend is here will influence your judgment of the new song. Just to bring you up to speed: We’ve now traveled through the inner-workings of hell itself and are now surfacing, which means that the pain and scaring memories associated with the past songs can now dissolve, as you’ve left that world. Or something deep and dramatic like that. The point is, Adam heard this new song early since he’s just cool like that and he gives it his seal of approval. I’m not quite sure how much that equates to, but it’s something, so I’ll take it. Let’s jump right in.

Once again, this whole sentence is your portal to the outer world where you can abandon all those preconceived notions of the poor quality of songwriting you’ve witnessed heretofore. On a side note, I believe that’s the first (and most likely last) time I’ve ever used the word "heretofore." Since I liked the format last week, we’ll go lyrics and then ramblings.

Call from a Pay Phone
Under pearl gray skies, through dead wood brown eyes, I dial the seven digits tagged for you just to hear your voice trickle through the line and enter the recesses of my mind to stimulate the image of you smiling there with the moon sparkling your hair. To say I was unprepared to say "goodbye for now" would be a gross understatement. That night when you whispered, "I wish I was beautiful," I said, "were" both to be grammatically correct and to remind you that, at least in the present, your wish has been paid in full. But, if you want, let’s go back to those days when we were eighteen and feared the future. Let’s play make-believe and wash those doubts away with the same bar of soap we’ll use to rinse our filthy mouths from damning these days, damning these ways, damning these people, damning life for being so damn literal. If there’s one thing that I’ve learned, it’s that home is not a place, but a foundation where I lie my head on your chest and watch the world rise and fall.

What you just read, that last line, that’s pretty much the best thing I’ve ever written. So just think: it’s all downhill from here! The remarkable thing about this song is that it’s actually inspired by a dream I had. Okay, that didn’t sound so remarkable since lots of artists get inspired by dreams, but it’s special for me since I rarely remember my dreams. But one time last summer I had a dream where I put my head on this girl’s chest and watched the world rise and fall with the rhythm of her breathing. Since I was/am new to the whole remembering details from dreams, the face and name escapes me, but whoever you are, thanks! It might not even be a real person, for all I know. Regardless, I set out to write a happy song and a happy song this is. Also, unlike most of my other songs, this went through one or two drafts. Generally I just sit down and churn out a song and tweak certain elements, but this went through a couple re-writes. I’m really happy with the results, and I hope you are, too. Also, for the first time ever in the history of music, a song has featured a grammar joke. That one’s going out to all you grammar nuts out there. Now stop harassing me about how "lie" should be "lay" in the last line. Other nitpickers would mention that, this being a long distance call from a pay phone, you’d have to actually type in eleven numbers (1 + area code + 7 digits). To these people I say: shut up, Brian, you’re giving yourself away.

In other music news, look for a magazine called The Believer at your local bookstore. It’ll be under the literature section, most likely. The June/July issue includes a free cd with all sorts of nifty independent artists covering other spiffy independent artists. Definitely worth checking out, in my opinion. Also (well, not really "also" since this is something entirely different), I think something weird is going on with the comments to our entries. I question this not because I didn’t get 8000 screaming fans commenting on my last song (in anger), but because that post Adam had with his run-in with the police is hilarious and people definitely should’ve left notes of encouragement for when he’ll be put on trial for being a sex offender. So if that’s the case, then let us know so we can maybe get help to fix it. Otherwise, keep up the good job of commenting only on the classy stuff. With that kind of mentality we’ll probably never get a comment again. But hey, it’s Friday! Enjoy the weekend! Speak as if all of your sentences ended in exclamation points and irritate the people around you!

New story time. I wrote this one when I woke up this morning. It's like 4 pages long, so... yeah. Not real long, but not as short as The Heartbeat. And... yeah. No title yet, so I'm open to suggestions. Enjoy.

Looking calmly around his room, Jeff realized how little he’d miss. He’d brought with him what he thought he’d need to get him through this week, but now with so little time left he realized it was all superfluous. The pictures that only hours ago rested on his dresser now lay broken face down on the floor, and he made no attempt to rectify their situation. He simply walked into the closet and grabbed the nicest pair of clothes he’d brought. These had been meant to be for ballroom dancing, but there would be no dances tonight and he wore them anyway, since tonight would be the last night and they hadn’t been worn yet. Plus, he thought, if you’re going to go out, go out in style. He wondered if he still had time for a short nap, as all the excitement of late had tired him out some. Deciding that it didn’t really matter, he was going to take one either way, he laid down on the bed and closed his eyes.
He had a dream that the world was burning. The entire thing, red and orange and beautiful like a sun. A flaming ball hurtling through the air, the immense speed not even enough to put out the flames. Seen from space the sight would have brought a tear to the eye of even the most hardened viewer. Amid the vast blackness, one bright shining ball, a reminder that even in the darkest blackness there is a ball of light, of hope. And all the while, down on the earth itself, all living things run around screaming and burning, or suffocating because of the lack of oxygen. No one on Earth would have called the planet beautiful, but anyone floating above it would take as many pictures as they could of the most amazing thing they’d ever seen.
A loud noise, and Jeff awoke. Not with a start – he’d been getting more and more used to loud noises recently – but calmly, he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. He wondered where his wife was briefly, then decided it didn’t really matter. He would either be seeing her again soon, or he would never see her again, and in truth, either option would suit Jeff just fine. Suddenly a pang of guilt shot through him as he thought about their two children, and he picked up the pictures from the ground and placed them back on the dresser. They had stayed at home with their grandparents. Thank God for that, Jeff found himself thinking. With considerable difficulty he got out of bed and trudged upwards to the bathroom.
You look like shit, he thought to himself. Too much to drink last night. Tonight. Whenever that was. Time on a trip like this tends to get distorted. Time always gets distorted on vacation, but on one such as this, things can really get messed up. He stared at his bloodshot eyes and realized he was not as calm as he’d thought, and this worried him. He began to shake, put his head down in his hands and cried. When he’d done enough, he dried his eyes and resolved to go find his wife, just in case he’d never see her again. The view out the window told him he didn’t have a ton of time left. She’d need comforting, he told himself, and if a husband can’t comfort his wife in a time of need, what good is he at all?
He got dressed in his nicest clothes, the ones he’d laid out before his nap, and he combed his hair. He thought about trying to get the red out of his eyes, and he thought about shaving, but he decided the effort wouldn’t be worth it. It’d just mean more lost time, time he fully expected to spend enjoying the view with his wife. Looking marginally better than before, he walked out onto the deck to search for his wife.
Immediately screams filled the air and people could be seen running to and fro. Jeff resolved not to let any of this faze him, and he looked around to find anyone else who was taking things calmly. He found no one, which meant his wife was not in his immediate vicinity. She was a strong woman, Liza, and she would be somewhere sitting calmly reading a magazine or playing a game of some type. This he was sure of, so he walked down through the crowd, blocking out the movement and the noise and searching for the one person staying still. He couldn’t help but feeling like he had a book held in front of him, trying to find Waldo. The only difference... well, there were many differences, but the main one was this was timed, and it meant something.
Sure, Jeff and Liza had had a spat when they’d heard what was going on. Liza thought they should call home and say bye to their children while Jeff thought the kids would be better off not knowing what had happened to them until they were older. Liza kept trying to pick up the phone and Jeff kept ripping it from her hands, slamming it down. Eventually Jeff got upset with Liza and ripped the phone cord from the wall. Liza thought about saying something about destroying other people’s property, but realized how little that mattered, and stamped off in a huff to go find someone else’s phone. She hadn’t returned to the room. Jeff spent a few minutes being angry, calmed himself, grabbed his nice clothes out of the closet, took a nap, and here he was, searching for her.
Suddenly it occurred to him that she would probably be down by the pool relaxing. No one in their right mind would be by water at a time like this, which meant she was definitely there. He walked across the plaza to the pool and found her in her bra and underwear reading a magazine on a lawn chair. He sat down next to her.
“Nice bathing suit,” he said.
“I knew you’d like it,” she smirked back, and pulled him down to kiss her.
“Where’d you get the magazine?”
“It fell out of some businessman’s suitcase when he ran by here,” she said, holding up this month’s copy of Playboy. “You know, the articles in here are actually pretty interesting."
“See? That’s what I always said. But you said nobody reads the articles.”
“Yeah, well I’ve been wrong once or twice. The naked women kind of throw me off, though. Nobody looks like that.”
“Thank the gods of the airbrush, eh?”
“And don’t forget the plastic surgeons.”
“Yeah... Sorry about that fight earlier.”
“I’d be more forgiving if you weren’t staring at my breasts.”
“You are in your bra, you know. What do you say, one last go at it?”
“Right here? In public? Now?”
“Why not?” Jeff pleaded.
“I can think of a million reasons why not,” Liza said, standing up, throwing the magazine in the pool, and putting on her evening dress. “I see you dressed up for the occasion.”
“And so did you. Walk with me?”
They walked slowly and deliberately so as to not lose their footing. By now the area was clearing out, though there were still plenty of people running around yelling, trying to find loved ones or save anyone who walked by. Soft music still came fluttering out of the ballroom and Jeff asked Liza to dance. They stopped where they were outside and began swaying, holding each other closer and closer with each passing second. Jeff kissed Liza on the forehead and told her he loved her, and she turned her face away, trying not to shed a tear and failing. She slumped in his arms and he held her tighter, determined not to let her fall to the ground and risk getting trampled, but more trying not to let her slip away from him now. Not this close to the end. He ran his hands through her hair and told her everything would be okay soon.
“How can you say that?” she asked in disbelief.
“Well, there’s nothing we can really do now. Might as well enjoy it. This is something not everyone gets to go through.”
“GETS to?” she asked incredulously, and punched his chest playfully. “Gets to,” she repeated again, softly, to herself. She closed her eyes and felt the cool, calming breeze dry the tears on her face. When she opened them again, Jeff was staring into them.
“Let’s go up to the top,” he said, and they began what was becoming a steep ascent to the peak.
The stars were beautiful from out here. They flickered with light sent long ago. “You know,” said Jeff, “Everyone on those planets is dead now. Take comfort in that.”
“Those are stars,” said Liza, “and that’s not comforting anyway.”
“It is beautiful, though,” she added moments later. The sky was a dark blue, which meant the sun would be coming up on the world soon. Another day, their children at their grandparents’ playing in the yard. Another day, their children growing up, getting married, having children of their own. Another day, the world still turning, not on fire but burning with life and hope and passion. Another day, and so on.
“We’re going to miss so much,” Liza said, and looked wistfully at her husband who was staring quietly up at the sky, trying to take in the majesty of the universe one last time. He didn’t hear her, he was wrapped up in his own thoughts.
“I’d say,” he said after a few moments of an undetermined amount of time, “that if we make it to see the sunrise, we should consider that a victory, and be happy.”
“I’m trying to be happy. I’m trying but it’s not... I’ve never been in this situation before.”
“They say,” said Jeff, “That people who drown and are then brought back to life describe an amazing euphoria. Same of people whose hearts stop and then start again. This amazing pleasure, unlike anything they ever experienced in life. This feeling that, no matter what happens to them, everything will be okay in the end. They don’t fear death anymore after that. That’s comforting. To me, anyway. You know me, I don’t believe in an afterlife or anything like that, though times like these make me hope there is one. I still feel like I could do some more living. I don’t feel like I’m ready to stop. But then, I also know that if this is really going to be it, I’m going to feel better than I’ve ever felt before soon. That’s enough for me. Tomorrow will be another day. Our children will be cared for. Your parents are lovely people and they’ll raise our kids right. We’ve done everything we could to make sure they have what they need growing up. Insurance will pay for their schooling. The world keeps turning, Liza. We’re just two people on it. Everything will be okay in the end.”
Jeff had been staring at the horizon, and as he’d been speaking the tip of the sun had peeked over, bathing the sky in flames. The stars began to fade from view. The sky was pink in spots, orange in others, bright yellow in others. It was as if God himself had come down for this last moment on Earth and painted the most beautiful sky he’d ever painted. Both Jeff and Liza sat transfixed, Liza wiping away the tears that had flown during Jeff’s speech.
“God,” she said, “I never noticed how beautiful life is until now. That’s such a shame. I wish I would have done more.”
“You did all you could,” Jeff said, not wanting to look down, but finding himself curious as to how much time they had left. He looked, and it turned out not much. Liza felt the water touch her toes. Her heart skipped a beat.
“Don’t look down,” Jeff said, knowing soon the ship would be pulled beneath the water, and them with it. They were now the only people left on board. The others had already drowned or had sailed off into the open sea in a lifeboat. “I love you, Liza,” Jeff managed to croak out through a clenched throat, and his face exploded with tears.
Liza simply turned to him and pulled his face into hers. They stood there in embrace until the ship gave completely beneath them and they felt themselves rocketing beneath the water. In her last breath, Liza yelled “I’ll see you soon,” and Jeff hoped beyond all hope that she was right.
The sun continued to rise. The water rippled violently for a moment before calming into a gentle waving pattern again. Children played in yards that day, grandparents got news that a ship had gone down, tears were shed, and another day sunk into the darkness of time.

Greetings. "So Brian, where's that song of the week thing you promised us?" is probably a question that's eluded most of you. Well, all I can say is that I was at home and did not have the incredibly high tech equipment (a computer program and a simple 2 input break-out box) required to record these ditties. So I apologize if I've lost the trust of everyone ever because I spouted empty promises like that. I'll try harder next time.

Let's get right to the tortu- fun, shall we? I will make this whole sentence a link, just so you don't have to strain too hard to find a link embedded in a tiny four letter word. Again, right clicking and Save As seems to work best, as I tried doing the normal left click thing and it said something dumb like "you can't download this," which is a complete lie since you can download it. Whatever. But I'm not good at tech support, so if you continue to have trouble and you really, really, really want to hear the song (you should probably consider it a good omen that it denies you access), then shoot me an IM and we can do a file transfer thing. The reason I don't do that normally is because it'd just take up too much of my day if I did that for the throngs of people who have shown interest. Or, you know, five minutes. So thanks to all you lovely people who braved the first song! You gave me just enough confidence to shatter your faith in me with this new one! I'm gonna switch things up and give you lyrics first, then commentary.

All These Christmas Carols Sound the Same
I’m st-st-st-st-stuttering on my words. It’s either fear or the cold, I’m not sure. I’m falling in love with eyes closer than they appear. I’m erasing this past year from memory. How hard could it be? And the fallen snow, from a bird’s eye view, presents these city streets in threads of white lacing up the best of you and me (a gift left under an abandoned Christmas tree wilting on New Year’s Eve). Months from now, when these memories melt and flood out onto the streets like the guts of traffic lights reflected on rain stained streets, I’ll have shelved away all those times that felt so right and catalogued your soft breathing on those summer nights. But for now, “Season’s Greetings!” is what I lack. Whoever said this is the most wonderful time of the year needs to take it back.

I have lots to say about this one, which is weird since it's so short. First, the title. I just came up with the title today. I've had this one written for almost a year and never found a good title for it, but I like the one it has now. So if you have suggestions for names, feel free to let me know. I'm trying to stay away from the obvious ones like "Piece of Shit Song #2,"but at least that sets the bar low! Anyway, the title alludes to my original intention with this song, which was to write something about how annoying the same 12 christmas carols are. But that idea got ditched and only shows up in the last two lines. How this song got started: Last summer, I delivered pizzas for Papa John's. It was a cool job. But, even after those countless hours on the road, I never got comfortable looking at the people in the cars around me, so I'd always steal glances in side mirrors or rear view mirrors. Hence the line, "I'm falling in love with eyes closer than they appear." But it also works in the sense that there's this distance between the two people. Cool, huh? So I wrote this song in the summer, even though it has a distinct winter feel to it. I like the "second verse," about the snow. It also has the most "emo" (in a bad way) line I've ever written, about the present under an abandoned Christmas tree. That part I'm okay with, actually, but the "wilting on New Year's Eve" element is just too much. But it was too good of a rhyme to pass up. Also, I want to point out that I'm not making fun of people who stutter. And you might notice I use the word "streets" twice. That's not supposed to be a bad rhyme, that's just me not knowing my own words. This is what happens when you sing without lyrics in front of you. The original line was "Months from now, when these memories melt and ooze out onto the roads like the guts of traffic lights reflected on rain stained streets..." So I replaced "ooze" with "flood" (what I consider a good move) and "roads" with "streets" (what we'll call a bad move). Oh well. And, even though the vocal track could probably be re-recorded to sound a bit better, I'm lazy. As for the guitar, I only use the three high strings, that's why it's a bit softer sounding. It also explains why the palm muting at the end doesn't quite sound as good. But hey, I'm not going for perfection here, just sub-par average. My songs are akin to Communism: they look good on paper, but don't quite execute as well as their potential. Hey, I like that! That needs to be added to the Disclaimer song...

Next week: a good song! For real! Thank you again for your patentience.

Fear not, I neither bring new stories nor an extremely long entry this time. Though I haven't written it yet, and with the way I love to ramble, time could prove me wrong. So it's now 8:05 am and I've been up for oh, 20-30 minutes. That's sad in many regards, the most sad being the fact that it's Saturday, and I do this about every Saturday. Usually by Sunday I can "sleep in" until 8:30 or so. Stupid getting up early for work making me get up early on my days off. Speaking of which, kind of, I might have a job at OfficeMax coming to me sometime next week which means I can get rid of this boring ass landscaping job. It has kept me pretty tan (read: too tan) and in pretty good physical shape (read: not that great but better than usual physical shape), but the actual work is just boring. I do enjoy getting paid 9 bucks an hour to drive around town all day as a matter of principle, but in reality, it's a lonely, solitary life, and apparently I've become less of a loner since high school. So OfficeMax would be cool. I could be the electronics specialist guy and then I'd be the envy of giant nerds everywhere.

Alright. So everyone's probably heard this already (though very few people who read this have probably heard this) but this was the big news last week. Here I was, naked in front of my computer at about 10 on Tuesday night. I was naked because it's hot in the middle of summer, and we don't use air conditioning. I was on the computer doing my rounds (reading comics, checking email, etc) before bed. Suddenly, after like 5 minutes of this, I look over at my window and realize the blinds are open, meaning any soul unlucky enough to walk by can see me. So I go something like "Oh shit" and I go close my window. No harm no foul, though I do remember thinking "man, I hope nobody saw me." So I go to bed at about 10:15, which I remember noticing because that's a little earlier than I usually go to bed, and I was looking forward to a long, wonderful night of sleep.
Come 11, a faint knock is heard on the door. Apparently this knock had been occurring for a while, because Cam told me, and because the police officer knocking looked a little upset when I peeked out, and he said "Open the door." I threw on some shorts and went out into the apartment to open the door. Cam walked out of his room at the same time, and together we faced the officer. He looks at us funny and goes "Do you guys live here together?" What we should have said was something like "Yes, and you're interrupting our nightly anal sex session," but what we said was just kind of a surprised "Yeah." So he goes "Who was on the computer earlier?" What we should have said was something like "I don't know, every single person in this country?" or "We're going to need a time frame on that one, buddy." But instead we just sputtered out a couple things like "Both of us" and "We connect through the same router" (which was an especially stupid thing to say and which I claim full responsiblity for). So he goes "Who was on the computer 15 minutes ago?" Nobody was on the computer 15 minutes previously, because we'd both been in bed for at least 45 minutes. But since Cam's girlfriend was over and they went in their room before me, probably not to use the computer, I volunteered that I was probably the most recent computer user.
The officer tells Cam to go to bed, and while Cam says he wanted to just hang out and see what's going on with this guy who never introduced himself, never identified himself as a policeman (other than his costume), and just walked right on into our apartment without being invited, he was scared like me so he went back to bed. The officer looks at me at says "You know what this is about, don't you." Since I had previously thought to myself "Man, I hope nobody saw me naked at the computer" earlier, I said yeah, though I was confused as to why the police were here. To the best of my knowledge, it's not illegal to use a computer while naked in the state of Colorado, but who knows, with conservative Christians (I mean, Republicans, like there's a difference) in control of this country. So he talks to me for a little while about how it shouldn't happen again, and I assure him that I'll keep my blinds closed forevermore, and he fucking calls my ID into the dispatcher like I'm some kind of criminal. What I really enjoyed about this guy was how he was treating me like I was standing in front of my window masturbating, slaughtering a chicken over a picture of Christ on the cross, and molesting young children. He seriously talked to me like I'm some kind of sex offender, when in reality if you know me, you've probably never even seen me without my shirt on, unless you've lived with me for a month or two, in which case I might have accidentally stumbled out topless one time.
With the police officer gone without an apology for waking us up at 11, keeping me up until 11:30 on a work night, I went back to bed, but could not fall asleep because of my intense anger and fear. Mostly anger at this point. Anger that someone would look in my room, which was completely dark, except for the light of the monitor, study the vague blog long enough to realize it was a naked guy, and get so offended that she would call the police. I say "she" because we've discussed this, and there is no guy in existence who would call the police upon seing someone naked, male or female. If female, he'd probably call his friends. If male, he'd go "Oops" and keep on walking. We've also decided this woman is a conservative, she's Christian, she's in her 50's, and she's a gigantic walking cunt, which you'd think you'd be able to see from a pretty good distance, but I've yet to find out who she is. If I do find out who she is, Cam and I are going to do something to her, though we haven't figured out what yet.
These are the morals from this ordeal:
1. I hate the police with a passion, and each time I have to interact with one, I hate them more. I think traffic cops are basically the scum of the earth, and if they all caught a horrible disease where their eyes rot out of their skulls and their brains leak out through their eye sockets in a hideously painful manner, the world would be a better place. Traffic cops, however, are angels in comparison to cops who show up at a dark, quiet apartment at night and wake them up for no reason. I can't even bring myself to write what should happen to those cops.
2. If I'm a sex offender in the police system now, I am single handedly going to tear this government down, or die trying. I'm not big on anarchy, but I'm also not big on a repressive dictatorship in which I can't even be naked in my own apartment, in my own bedroom, in the middle of the night.
3. I have, once again, lost all faith in the segment of "humanity" that calls the police on something like this. I don't mean all Christians, or, necessarily, all conservatives when I say this. I just mean the ones who want to make everyone else a conservative Christian. God damn, I hate republicans.
4. I just think I should repeat this: Cops are fucking scum. One time John's car died after a Lagwagon concert, and the police wouldn't give us a jump. They said they'd call us a tow truck. Fucking prick asshole dicks.

Moving on, I saw the Lawrence Arms last week by myself in Denver, and after freaking out about parking and scrounging through the loose change in my car to find a total of exactly three bucks, I got into Rock Island, which is a bizarre little goth club that is sometimes used for punk shows. I kept the tradition alive of getting a drinking wristand and not getting anything to drink. Cam and I do this because of all the times we couldn't get into shows or had to pay extra because we weren't 21. Take that, The Man. Anyway, Enemy You opened, and I've been a fan of theirs since I heard their awesome song on the Short Music comp, which they played, to my delight. They played a solid set of pop punk that I enjoyed way more than anyone else there. Next was Smoke or Fire, who played a really really good show. Their CD is pretty good, but their live show is very very energetic and tight, and I'd recommend seeing them. This was the second time I saw them, the first being opening for Against Me! in Houston. They were better this time. Third was the way awesome A Wilhelm Scream. They played all three songs I knew by them, and a lot more, and they're a riot to watch. Five guys jumping around, playing really loud, hard punk rock. Way good. If I hadn't been poor I would have bought a CD of theirs. They had a big fan base and lots of people were singing along and such. Then the Lawrence Arms came out and played the best show I have ever seen then play (seen them 3 times now). They played a wonderful setlist that included my two favorite b-sides, a couple more songs than usual off their first album, all of my favorite songs off Ghost Stories (including Minute, which is awesome, and, to my extreme surprise and happiness, Me and Martha Plimpton in an Elevator. I screamed like a little girl when I realized they were playing that. Then the usual excellent smattering of stuff from their newest two albums and the splits. My only fault was that they didn't play Quincentuple Your Money, the song that got me into them. Bren was entertaining as always, played a bass-only version of Every Rose Has its Thorn when Chris' guitar broke, and generally it was awesome. Best show I've seen in a long time.

I have on my list of things to write about Sarai. I don't know what I was going to write about her, except her name is spelled strangely for it being pronounced Sarah. I've been talking to her for hours and hours every day recently, and I really enjoy it. There are two problems right now, in my eyes. One, she's home in Maryland until August. Two, she has a boyfriend, though all signs point to that relationship not lasting. Ugh. She's way awesome though, and we're hanging out when she gets back, I think. Unless she solves her problems with her boyfriend and they start living together again. Which would be terribly disappointing for me, but then, terribly disappointing is a good adjective clause to describe how my relationships with women usually go, so it wouldn't be too suprising.

No Use for a Name is all I'm listening to lately, but not the new album, but Leche con Carne and Making Friends. They used to be a hell of a band. The new album is good but those albums are better. I finally like Leche con Carne, I always thought it kind of sucked. Now I like about every song on there. Also, I got the Lawrence Arms b-sides album for 5 bucks after trading in the splits and a couple other pieces of trash I had laying around, and I'm wearing it out, even though there are only like 4 songs I hadn't heard before.

Hokey dokey folks, Brian's been at home all week so I haven't been able to play pinochle. And he hasn't been able to put up a song. But I assume he's still planning on doing that. Real quick, comments for certain articles go at the top, as exemplified by Karo, the smartest girl I know, and at the end of each article is the author's name. Not that I don't like hearing my song is real good, but I haven't written any songs. Alright, check ya later.