Tattoo?

The founder of THE BEAT is Catholic priest who has no great amount of affection for Allen Ginsberg. He has an alter in the trunk of his Bug with candles and the whole works.
Here's to Quinn.

Happy 10 year anniversary, THE BEAT.

Beat Night

Friday, April 28

9 p.m.

All I have to say is FUCK the career planning office for making me fill out their fucking carrier information forms before they will send me my cap and gown. Fuckers didn't help me get my goddamn job. But I suppose the college needs to show that some grads can actually get jobs outside of the college.

Which was funnier?

Dr. Jordan's 3 or 4 year old daughter doing a back flip over the front pew while her mother watched in horror, or the 10 to 13 year old girl behind me whining right after communion, "but I did do it right. Why does it even matter?"


Happy Easter all.

Scene: Harvey and me breaking in the porch.

Harvey: Children bother me.

Me: What?

Harvey: Children bother me.

Me: Oh good.

Harvey: What did you think I said?

Me: I thought you said chicken lobotomy.

Who is going to be at the Beat for Graduation? Amber and I need a place to crash...and we'll bring a keg.

Scene: Living room. Harvey writing on his Mac. Me reading.

Harvey: Who directed 'Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels'?
Me: Guy Richie, Madonna's husband.

Harvey: Who wrote the book 'Fried Green Tomatoes'?
Me: Dunno.

Harvey: How do you spell 'conjugal'?
Me: c-o-n-j-u-g-a-l.

Me: What the hell are you writing?

The Beat residents, according to a cat

The Beat has been adopted by a cat, a tabby now named Mel or Mell or, when Jon says it before he's had his espresso, Moe. M. is a she and not just, as Dave hypothezied, ball-less. She was sleeping on our couch porch the other morning and then invited herself in and then Ryan, who is allergic to cats but writes love songs about them, went and bought her food. Harvey was gone for the weekend and so surprised when M. jumped into his bed in the middle of the night, and August, who according to the note he's put on the phone IS NOT HERE (ever), probably still doesn't know.

M. seems to like biting my elbows while purring.

Will (s)he come?

With one resident shy of a contract, the future of The Beat is in jeopordy.

Alarmist? Today, the landlord gave a tour of the house to some track guys.

Fuck Lance Armstrong.

Prepare yourself!



That's right. Snakes on a plane... bitch.

Insert evil villain laugh

Plan:
1. Write up (dubious) information in wikipedia.
2. Start arguments about that information.
3. Appeal to wikipedia.
4. Repeat until you can say anything and it won't be challenged or no one trusts wikipedia anymore.

America. Freedom. Zeiger.
Reagan's Children Blog: taking back a city on a hill

T. Watch

It turns out that we have here a number of people who are scared (phobic?) of tornados.

Not on that list: Me or August.

"Life is demanding without understanding,
I saw the sign and it opened up my eyes,
I saw the sign."

I need a beer

Danger on a too-cold Friday night


Tom Waits doing a Cole Porter cover.

Animated Table Top Joe

Nominations for the DBL?

Now you’re messin’ with a- (a son of a bitch!)
Now you’re messin’ with a son of a bitch.

Now you’re messin’ with a- (a son of a bitch!)
Now you’re messin’ with a son of a bitch.