Larry and I went to The Record Garden or whatever it's called yesterday afternoon so he could get record inserts and outer plastic sleeves (he's much better about taking care of his records than I am!) and I started looking at their used tapes and I was pretty astounded by the wide selection of stuff they had there. See, I still listen to tapes ALOT! I listen to them on my walkman/cassette player when I take buses all around town and our new car happens to have a working tape player in it. I could have bought about 50 tapes (and I didn't even get a chance to look at every single tape) but what I did get is great (and the tapes cost between $2.99 and $4.99). Larry got a Durutti Column tape. I got The Dead Kennedys' "Give Me Convenience Or Give Me Death", Siouxsie and the Banshees' "A Kiss in the Dreamhouse" (I have a hard time finding this on cd, tape OR album and to find it for less than $5.00 blew my mind), Echo and The Bunnymen's "Heaven Up Here" and the thing that blows my mind the most is that for $4.99 I got The Fall "Wonderful and Frightening World of..The Fall"...I mean, I think it's pretty fucking obscure to find THAT on tape. I never see it on Cd or Album. Tracy and Hans brought me back a really cool album from Holland. It's called something like "Out of the Kitchen and into the Garage" and it's a compilation of all Dutch garage bands (FEMALE garage bands from the mid to late 60's)...It kicks ass! Half of the bands sing in Dutch and half sing in English. What a great present for me! They certainly know how my musical tastes run! They also brought curry ketchup, which I haven't tried yet, but am dying to!

I am a fan of Deepak Chopra, and he was on Coast to Coast last night but I have to admit that his speaking voice over the radio is TOO monotonous and mellow and I found him to be a really DULL speaker. I also didn't understand half of what he was saying (it was all about the soul and most of it just went right over my head)...Oh well, I still admire him, but I was sort of disappointed that I felt bored with what he was talking about.

Ok, I think it's time for another stream-of-consciousness attempt. Here it goes:
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Arts and crafts made of dried macaroni and shells. Pink and Purple glitter carelessly trampled into red shag carpet. I see baby seals balancing red balls and leaves the color of pomegranates. Scotch Broom grows wild along the roadside in Washington State. Most call it an eyesore, but I love it's bright yellow bushy self. Green eyeliner and eyebrows plucked by a thirteen-year-old using Scotch "Magic" tape. I hear a sound that sounds like the inside of a shell and the beginnings of an ocean. A lighthouse is out there somewhere, calling me in, tempting me against it's craggy rocks. A bloody sheet. A pan of water. I see a lifeless, blue infant held stiffly in a midwive's arms. I think that dead infant is me. I died along time ago and that I was I have so much fear in this current life. I see ravens sitting in trees and secret tunnels underneath boulders that I have heaved to one side. I see birds of paradise and I smell copper and dirt and dust gets in my nose. I sneeze out ribbons for Christmas packages and I taste cinnamon and allspice. I wish my name was Ginger or something warm. My cousin is named Ginger. My cousins tell me they love me but I don't feel like I know them from Adam anymore. It was another lifetime in which Ginger and I pretended we were Mick Jagger and Keith Richards and that Ruffles were "Druffles" (drug-laced potato chips)...we used to pretend we were on Fantasy Island and were allowed to be felines for 3 days. We crawled around grandma's house meowing. The old house across from Grandma's that is now a new house. The way her kitchen smelled of chicken stock and the frozen grapes from the freezer she offered like candy. I miss Grandma Marie. If I go to County Cork maybe I can find her there again. I sometimes think about whether I'm an old soul or a new soul and then I wonder why I'm thinking of these things and not looking for a job. Black construction paper and tissue paper flowers hanging on a wall. Red leaves floating around the backyard like little devil ghosts. The communion host and now this is all Catholic bullshit. I could quote John Lydon, but I won't.
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The End.

do the jerk * do the frug