2002-08-22 - 1:23 a.m.

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End of Summer

"Psh psh YAH YAH psh psh *CRASH*" - the sounds that escaped from my living room all day as I watched countless shaolin movies.

I appear to be a bore every once in a while. This is that once in a while.

Although today was spent sitting perfectly on my ass, watching people annihilate each other as well as gravity, I completely annihilated all stress and fatigue from this summer. Nothing makes me happier than a love story where the mouths don't match the words and someone gets impaled every 5 minutes. I want to be able to do that shit.

If anyone has some extra shaolin sitting around I can borrow, that'd be great. Mmmmkay.

Also, Tape has shown me the light as far as remixes go. Mixing Skeelo with the Beatles and mixing Ice T with Beck can have some amazing side effects. These side effects include rock and/or roll as well as complete fuckyouupitude of a billion percent.

Tonight, I hung out with Commack Pete, so that I could get my hat back from the party the other night and so that I could give him back his script. We went to Chili's with Mitchy Da Kid and ordered 2 for 1 margaritas, then proceeded to rock the shit out of the parking lot. All I know is, 2 for 1 margaritas kicks you straight in the gut, becasue all that sugar killed my stomach.

Yesterday was a fucking kick ass day though. Fo seriously. I recorded the first part of the infamous "Trilogy" (infamous only to myself and a few others of course) with Mehr, who can apparently play MIDI drums on a keyboard like a motherfucker. A motherfucker who can play drums. On a keyboard. Well. Anyway, we finally put this 5 year old song to "tape" and by tape I mean computer. All digital. Guitars, bass, shitty vocals, MIDI drums and all. Cakewalk is my bestest friend in the whole world. We joked around about the song for the whole day, because the words to it were taken directly from a collage me and him did in 1996 (wow, talk about back in the day...there's a 19 in there...) A sample of the groundbreaking lyrics?

Copyright 2002 motherbitches. I dare you to steal that fucking song.

Then, after successfully making an ass out of myself, I figured it would be good to cool down with a little sundown boogie boarding session. Mehr agreed.

Let me tell you the best part of Long Island. It isn't even the island itself so much as the turbulent, angry waters attacking on all sides at all times. Of course, if the commercial for Blue Crush has taught me anything besides "Pay absoulutely no money for this movie. Steal it by all means if you are too curious about this movie, but do not spend one dime on this piece of shit" it's that CAlifornia has huge waves that only the 'big boys' can ride.

The tough guys float in the middle of the filthy murky Atlantic beauty. Fuck your prissy "I can actually see to the bottom and know what I'm stepping on" bullshit.

The Atlantic is ugly and pissed here, all over the island. There are times when it's clearish, but not that tropical Corona commercial horseshit. I stepped on god knows what and I loved it, boogie board in hand. I got pinched by 2 crabs or whatever that was and I fucking loved it.

I had not seen the Atlantic Ocean in well over a year. I had not swam in it in well over 2 or 3. IT was long over due to be floating in an opague vile filth slop of a beach. Although the waves never really even went over my head and the longest ride was about my body length, it was good to be floating in the ocean, shootin the shit with Mehr, away from fucking responsibilities and bullshit hassles, away from troubles. We floated there for 2 hours, riding in the occasional bullcrap wave and it was all I needed to do before I went back north. I needed to be hugged by the arms of the sea for a while, feel the cool breeze hit me, the mist shoot up my nose... well that was annoying but it felt like I was actually home for once, like I was where I love to be. I haven't felt that at home in years, like I've been a vagabond stopping in a familiar town when I came home.

After all, this summer has taught me the worth of home. I was couped up in a shithole apartment, going insane looking at the same small room, same bathroom, day in day out, crazy disgusting roomates, long classes, missing out on everything good and fun down here, hearing "ohhhh you should have been there...should have seen that..." and feeling as though I made a huge mistake along the way and was just now being punished for it. I've had the single worst summer in my life, quite possibly the worst time ever in my life, and I've come out the other side, into the sunlight, to drift on the waves as they slowly rocked me like a mother with a child in her arms. Clinging to that boogie board, I felt completely insignificant up against these constant waves rolling under me and it just let me let go for once and relax, enjoy my surroundings.

We looked up in the sky and saw the sun going down, with a guy feeding all the seagulls. That was the last thing I saw before we left the beach. I probably won't see it again for a while.

After the beach, me and Mehr planned on hitting out and meeting up with people at bars, but instead stuck home and played NHL 2002 and got beers. And Sparks...

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This really intrigued me. Ok, Vodka, MAlt Liquer and an energy have sex and the bastard child is brought up tasting like a cheap champagne in a pint can. That is SParks. Its 6.0% alcohol content and interesting can design made me go "Guh?" and also it's price of $1.39 too. Hell, even if it's a shitty booze or a shitty energy drink, a pint of Red Bull would cost me like 15 bucks (because they come in the smallest cans possible and to add up to one Sparks in size, you'd need like 3 or 4) and a can of beer is about the same price as Sparks. So this can is like buying a lot of two drinks. If it sucked, so what. I got energy and drunk at the same time.

IT did suck by the way. Try it once, don't make it a habit...
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and the night ended with Mehr stomping all over me in a shootout with Pittsburgh, which sounds like Plattsburgh, which is where I'll be going to in 48 hours.

I'm going back to school this weekend.

The summer is officially dead.

BMC

Last Few

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