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radioisntdead · 1 month

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Psst

Since we have a hat gremlin- what about other hat wearing Characters?

Sir pent., husker, Lucifer... SUSAN (angel wore a hat one time and so didnt vaggie- do they count?) and Valentino?

My only note is that if Valentino has one it is the equivalent to the most angry lil devil that bites his bald ass head like a rabid flea.

Good evening my dear! I GOT THIS ASK IN THE MORNING AND I KID YOU NOT IT HAS BEEN ON MY BRAIN SINCE. Switching between third person and referring to the reader as you

I'm thinking Sir Pentious's hat creature is like a little lizard, like the gecko lizard that tries to sell you car insurance but instead of car insurance it's just insurance, for what you ask? No idea it's probably a scam don't buy anything from hat lizard, Lil' hat lizard likes to take out with Sir Pentious's hat when he's sleeping, freaks out the eggy Bois, hat gecko totally tries to be a wingman and set him up with Cherri bomb! They are the best winggecko

Huskers hat creature is SMALL, they like the warmth from his fur, you take a lil' nappy nap, snoozy time, when he was a overlord they would help him win casino games, how you ask? I don't know, I don't know how it works but probably by stealing cards or something, his hat creature is probably drunk off their rockers too! Probably chill in cups when not in the hat.

Lucifers hat creature is a duck, 100% a regular duck, a duck that likes to vibe in a hat, that's all I got, the hat quacks. [Lilith gave you to him before leaving.] He likes to show you off to Charlie and the other sins "LOOK AT MY DUCK! THEY REALLY LIKE MY HAT HAhaA"

ANGEL'S CRIME HAT, his lil hat creature is just a lil' guy! He treats em' like a second child [the first is fat nuggets obviously] takes you out of the hat to dress you up, you probably ride fat nuggets like a horse when out of the hat, crime hat creature is totally small enough for that,

I despise Valentino so the bastard is, as per usual dying.

[Warning for mild implied suicide, it's not in depth but It's implied, just a sentence not the reader or the grapist.]

He doesn't have a hat gremlin he has a hat cursed demon leech.

Cursed leech wasn't always cursed, they originally clinged to one of Valentino's victims who ran out during extermination day and you can guess what fate they met.

You, the little hat thing wanted revenge for your fallen friend and so you exited the hat you were originally attached to and infested Valentino's.

Valentino has a constant headache because you bite, sharp teeth piercing his skin, he can't take the hat off because you latch on like a leech, you probably have some diseases that transfer to Valentino so he has to go to the doctors often.

Hat leech will eventually lead to Valentino's permanent death and only then will they be satisfied in taking revenge for their fallen friend, they will exit Valentino's hat and return to the one they left, maybe they'll move on to someone else and be their friend but until then they're on their own.

Vaggie doesn't have a hat gremlin, she has a BOW gremlin, allegedly came from heaven, you are the bow itself. Unraveling to be a bow creature that helps taking people out.

Bonus for Vox because he has a hat right? Or am I delusional we'll find out.

Lil robot creature, totally doubles as a spy, vox's hat is sometimes seen around the hotel stalking Alastor.

SUSAN MY BELOVED OLD GRUMPY LADY, I gotta write for her again soon!

Her hat creature is just like her! Old! her hat will rise up for a moment curse someone out before shrinking back down, similar to Rosie's gremlin, maybe they're related? They probably get into fights, the folks of cannibal town just see Susan's hat and Rosie's hat going at it, dueling probably with weapons I can see them using guns or sticks, sharp sticks,

Susan likes her hat creature, treats em' like a pet and feeds them sinners.

DOODLES TIME, I can't draw anyone's hats for the life of me.

My handwriting sucks but we don't talk about that

#radioasks #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #susan & reader #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel Susan #angel dust & reader

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3lc3lc3lc · 4 years

Text

JOSHUA TREE

An excerpt from my short story collection NOWHERE FAST, out now.

“so what i’m gonna do is i’m gonna get a moped and i’m gonna ride it around the desert. and i’ll have my shotgun for if i see a rattlesnake. you think i could shoot a rattlesnake from a moped?”

“sure, prolly.”

“i’ll shoot the fuck out of a rattlesnake. fuck a rattlesnake.”

“yea fuck em.”

“anyway, you can visit me if you want.”

“hmmmmm….. maybe.”

“hey can i call you? i can’t type so good. i got fat thumbs. plus i’m on ecstasy.”

Anna was in Los Angeles, where Ray lived, two weeks later on business. The business was a magazine interview with an R&B singer whose manager stopped returning Anna’s phone calls immediately upon her arrival. The business was a free vacation. “Guess where I’m at,” she texted Ray from the hotel. They’d been messaging each other for a month, friends of friends. Ray seemed psychotic, but that was no problem.

“You should come over and help me pack. I’ve got some soju,” he replied. Ray was moving to Joshua Tree in two days to make sad synthesizer music in the desert. “Oh. One thing I have to tell you. My teeth are all fucked up. I don’t smile in pictures. Thought you should know.”

An inflatable duck the size of a Subaru was drifting across the pool next to Ray’s apartment building on Sunset. The Elliott Smith mural from the one album cover used to be around the corner, he told Anna in the lobby, but they recently turned it into a brunch restaurant. “Oh and I’ve got a present for you.” They took the elevator to his studio, which was carpeted and offered roughly nothing in the way of furniture. The teeth were as advertised, a double row of craggy gray shards that made his mouth look like abstract expressionism. She sat on a cardboard box while Ray poured little cups of soju and retrieved a bag of mushrooms from a drawer. They ate a handful of caps each. “This isn’t your present. Come on.”

She followed him to the back of the apartment building, where three of Ray’s neighbors were smoking around a fire pit. Mary was in her fifties and blessed with the virtue of persistence, as demonstrated by the portable respirator she carted around in her non-smoking hand. Jeff with the blonde ponytail and Dickies had recently come back from Afghanistan. “Jeff’s better at Jeopardy than anyone on earth,” said Ray. “Other than me.” “Thanks, man,” said Jeff. In the corner, a large bearded man was lost in the act of twisting up some sort of balloon animal. “This is Balloonski,” said Ray. “Don’t look yet!” said Balloonski, his hands swooping and squeaking like ridiculous birds. Anna turned the other way and smoked a cigarette. By the time she’d finished, the balloon was in the shape of a man playing the saxophone. “Surprise!” said Ray. She promised to keep it always. “Balloonski,” she said, “you’re going places. The world will know your balloons. You’re headed straight to the top, kid. Did you know I’m a journalist?”

They went back to Ray’s apartment and fucked on the carpet to Elliott Smith, the popcorn ceiling rippling like lava. “Yeah so I think I’m in love with you,” Ray said. “Let’s go to your hotel and see what’s in the mini bar.” Anna swaddled the balloon jazz man in her jacket, their beautiful baby boy. “Sup, chumps?” she found herself barking at the nice people drinking wine in the hotel lobby, for no special reason beside the fact that she was untouchable and would never die.

They got to work on the mini bar, starting with the Wild Turkeys, then the Bombay Sapphires, then the Titos. Ray poured the last couple bottles on the floor and hurled them at the wall. “It ain’t on our dime, baby!” he crowed. “This is on Corporate America’s tab!” She couldn’t be sure if the room charges were, in fact, on Corporate America’s tab, nor if she would continue to have a job when all was said and done, but she could admit the sentiment was rousing. Give the guy ten minutes and suddenly you’re voting him for alderman. Ray called up room service, sprawled on the bed like some sort of Ottoman aristocrat. “Good morning. My wife would like to order steak and eggs please.”

It was May when she arrived in Joshua Tree. Or it was April. In any case, Prince had died and the desert was colder than she had imagined. It was an hour drive from the Palm Springs airport in a cab softly playing the greatest hits of Third Eye Blind, the windmills off the highway waving palely in the dark like great irrelevant gods. She should check out that place, the cab driver offered as some nameless saloon slipped past, if she wanted to meet a nice Marine. That sounded good, Anna said. She could swear the mountains were flashing with faraway wet yellow eyes.

The headlights caught Ray in front of a little house made of corrugated sheet metal that looked to be held together with staples, doing what could generously be described as karate. There were no neighbors to be seen for half a mile. “Darling, we haven’t any food!” Ray greeted her. The closest store was a two hour walk along the side of the highway, and it was closed. “But Loretta left a handle of Seagram’s, so we’ll be straight.” Who this Loretta was supposed to be she hadn’t a clue, but she would take a drink. Inside Ray’s Siamese cat hunted moths around the place, which was surprisingly well appointed, decorated with woven Navajo rugs and rattan furniture and a beaded curtain that clacked when you went from the kitchen to the bedroom. They drank gin and water and Ray told her the stories of his collection of scars, this one from being smashed over the head with a beer bottle, this one from falling through a skylight. By the time the sun was coming up she was drunk enough to ask: “Who’s Loretta?”

“Oh. Loretta’s my roommate.”

“There’s only one room.”

“We trade off. Anyway she’s not here right now.”

“Well where is she?”

“Couldn’t really tell you.”

Ray went and got the gin, refilled both their glasses to the top, and put on a movie about a dog who gets terribly abused by all numbers of people. Within twenty minutes he was sobbing uncontrollably, not even trying to be quiet about it. That was her favorite thing about Ray, probably. He cried at all the dog movies.

In the daytime Ray would hunch shirtless over his keyboard, chainsmoking spliffs and endlessly writing the same wordless song. Anna lay on a towel in the baked dirt of the yard, mindlessly scrolling through apps on her phone and seeing white when she stood up. Sometimes she watched Ray work, dragging colorful little chunks of minutiae back and forth across his computer screen and fiddling with knobs doing who knows what, the room quiet but for the bass in his headphones. This kind of boredom she had always liked, the kind that reminded her of sinking into decrepit couches to watch boys shoot at Nazis or whatever with their Playstation controllers. The wonderful kind of dullness that ferried you safely from one hour to the next. In any case, she’d lost her job. What else was there to do. She had two weeks left in the desert.

They were out front watching for jackrabbits when a bandaid-colored Volvo scraped up on wings of dust. A lady got out. She looked to be in her mid-sixties, with long gray hair and a tired face, dressed in the linens of some kind of cult, maybe. And she’d brought luggage. “I stopped at the Walmart and got hamburgers and beer,” she said, hauling out shopping bags from the back seat.

“Hi mom,” Ray said.

Ray’s mother turned to Anna. “Who’s this? Are you going to help me with the groceries?”

“Sorry... Ray didn’t tell me, uh...”

“You may call me Loretta. Here.” She handed Anna a case of Miller Lite. Anna carried it inside, shoving the underwear she’d left on the floor in her backpack before coming back for the next one. She caught Ray’s eye as he grabbed a box of frozen beef patties. “It’s cool,” he said. “We’ll sleep in the living room.” He turned to Loretta. “The drive was okay?”

“Left Tucson at four this morning,” Loretta said. “I feel like hell. Where did I put my…..?” She rummaged around in the glove compartment, retrieved five or six pill bottles, and went inside. Ray followed.

The sky was going pink and orange as Loretta unpacked her things and Ray heated up the charcoal grill. Anna made slow figure eights around the yard, listening to lizards scuttle around in the rocks. There were a few things she knew about Ray’s mother. She knew Loretta had been married five times. She knew Loretta had been a teacher, and that she wasn’t one anymore. She knew Ray hadn’t seen his mother in ten years, or at least that’s what he’d said, that Loretta’s boyfriend wouldn’t let him set foot in their house.

Loretta appeared in the doorway, her white linens dyed peach with twilight. “Would you like to play a game of Clue?” she asked Anna. They went inside and Loretta set the game board out on the floor, shuffling up the billiard rooms and candlesticks and slipping three cards into the little case file envelope. “I’m always Mrs. Peacock,” Loretta said. “Hope that’s not a problem.” They drank beer and waited for Ray to come and be the third player, Loretta’s left eye twitching gently as the sun went down.

“Are you Ray’s girlfriend?” Loretta asked.

“Sort of,” said Anna. “I don’t know. Something like that.”

“For the record,” said Loretta, “you shouldn’t trust half of what he tells you.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I know Ray, that’s all. Known him all his life.”

Ray walked inside with a tray of burgers. “You’re Professor Plum,” Loretta said, handing him the purple pawn. She turned her beer upside down, crumpled up the can and rolled the dice.

Loretta was holding Anna’s hair while she hugged the toilet, hurling. “Hey, we’ve all been there, hun,” Loretta said. “Mushrooms will do that sometimes.” Ray had brought his stash to the desert. It wasn’t sitting right. Anna choked out the rest, flushed, and staggered to her feet, sweating and mortified. “I should probably lie down for a minute,” she told Loretta, weaving her way to the living room. “Why don’t you take the bed tonight,” Loretta said, digging one hand in her giant purse. “I’ll send Ray in to join you. It’s no problem.” Anna slurred a thanks and goodnight and stumbled through the beaded curtain to the bedroom, wondering how long Ray’d been gone on his endless cigarette break. Or had he only stepped out five minutes ago? It was hard to be sure at the moment, considering that everywhere she looked, her surroundings kept turning to hamburger meat. She closed her eyes and tried to will away the kaleidoscope of tentacles churning inside her eyelids. When she woke up, Anna could hear Ray and Loretta’s voices softly from the other side of the curtain. The desert was dark still, a choir of crickets like distant static.

“I don’t have five hundred dollars, Ray. If I did, I’d give it to you. But I don’t.”

“Right. You’ve just got enough to make sure Gary can sit on his fat ass all day watching Matlock. But your only son can go fuck himself. Got it.”

“Let’s leave Gary out of it.”

“I would’ve liked to leave Gary out of it the day he broke my nose and kicked me out of the house, but I suppose we can’t have it all, can we.”

“Ray…... It’s complicated.”

“Yeah, being a mother sounds pretty fucking complicated. It’s not for everyone, I guess.”

Loretta was quiet for a minute.

“You know I don’t feel good about how everything played out. If I could do things differently…”

“I was thirteen years old living on the street because you chose fucking Gary over me, mom. I’ll say you could’ve done things differently. Jesus Christ.”

“That’s why I’m here every weekend, isn’t it? To see if we can’t be friends again?”

“You barely qualify as my mother, and you’re certainly not my friend. But I will take some fucking money, if Gary can manage to spare it from his Hot Pocket fund.” Anna heard shuffling and the crunch of cans being tossed in the trash. “And by the way, those pills are making you crazy. You shouldn’t be mixing all that shit at once. Your shrink ought to be in fucking prison. Anyway. Sleep well.” Anna lay very still with her eyes shut as Ray jangled through the beaded curtain and collapsed beside her in the dark, hitting the bed with a thud like he’d dropped from the sky.

In the morning Loretta was gone, and so was her car. On the kitchen counter were two notes, one labeled ANNA, the other MY SON RAY. Anna studied Ray’s face as he read, but it didn’t change, though he did slip a handful of twenties that had been tucked inside the letter into his pocket. Anna opened hers. In bold looping cursive it said, “Dear Anna, it was nice to meet you. He’ll take advantage of your weakness if you let him. Take care of yourself. Loretta.” Ray finished reading, folded the letter back up, and walked shirtless into the desert. He didn’t ask what her note said, and she didn’t either.

She remembered she had saved Loretta’s phone number a year later, after everything—after Ray had pawned most of her belongings and disappeared to Seoul with his secret girlfriend, that is, but before the whole Korean prison incident—and decided to ask. “What did you mean back in Joshua Tree, when you said he’d take advantage of my weakness?” she typed slowly. “How did you know?” She waited hours and hours until finally her phone buzzed. “I would never say that about my son,” read the text from Loretta. “What do you want from me?”

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grimelords · 5 years

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My March playlist is finished! This one is slightly more diverse than usual, swinging all the way from vibraphone jazz to Bhad Bhabie to black metal so I’ve taken the liberty of actually sequencing it properly for you. So if you’ve got 3 hours you can listen to this straight through and be taken for a hell of a ride. No matter what you like I’m sure you’ll find something in here that you love.

Tahiti - Milt Jackson: For an unknown reason I had a big jazz vibraphone phase this month and when you're talking jazz vibraphone you're talking the Wizard Of The Vibes himself, Milt Jackson. I feel insane even having an opinion on this but it's a shame that some of the best vibraphone performances were made at a time when the actual recording technology wasn't really there, they all have this very thin quality that I think misses a lot of the great character of the instrument.

Detour - Bill Le Sage: Like compare this from 1971 to Wizard Of The Vibes from 1952, the sounds is miles warmer and gives so much more of the full range and detail of the instrument. I also listened to this song five times in a row when I first heard it, the central refrain is just so fuckin good. Like I said, big vibes vibe and who knows why.

Blowin' The Blues Away - Buddy Rich And His Sextet: Superhuman playing aside, it's unbelievable how good these drums sound. The whole first minute just feels like a tour of each specific drum and I absolutely revel in it. I feel like flute and vibes is a relatively rare combo so it's extremely nice to hear Sam Most and Mike Manieri go ham in tandem.

Yama Yama - Yamasuki Singers: A friend sent me this song that he's had stuck in his head for ten years ever since it was in a beer ad from the days when beer ads were incredible strange for complicated legal reasons about not showing people enjoying the product or something https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ORfkh0OojxY and this incredible song is apparently from a 1971 French concept album where a couple of guys wrote a bunch of psychedelic songs in Japanese for an unknown reason that later became a massive drum and bass breaks album, and one of the guys was Thomas Bangalter from Daft Punk's dad! Music is crazy.

Alfonso Muskedunder - Todd Terje: I'm starting a petition to get Todd Terje to write the soundtrack for the next Mario Kart. I absolutely love this song and this whole album because it's so joyful and strange and it just sounds like nothing else I've ever heard. He seem to truly operate in a world entirely of his own.

Pala - Roland Tings: I love this song. It's like he wrote it with normal sounds and then went back and replaced every instrument with the party version. This song hands you a coconut and says welcome to the island where bad vibes are punishable by firing squad.

Keygen 13 - Haze Edit - Dubmood: There's a fucking album of keygen music on spotify and it's absolutely great and so good that someone's doing the work to recognize the value of the music this extremely weird scene produced and preserve it. If you don't know, back in the day when you pirated photoshop or whatever, you would download a license key generator which was a program made by extreme nerds who had cracked the license key algorithm to give you a fake one, and for unknown reasons they would make the keygen program play original chiptune music that someone in their nerd crew would compose. Who knows why but god bless them.

My Moon My Man (Boys Noize Remix) - Feist: The very concept of a Boys Noize remix of My Moon My Man is hilarious and it turns out it sounds absolutely amazing as well. Two great tastes that taste great together.

Low Blows - Meg Mac: I had a big Meg Mac phase this month too, listened to her album a lot and it's extremely solid. Great timing too cause her new one comes out in a month or so too. I really am excited to hear her next album because she's so good but I've always got this feeling that she hasn't reached her full potential yet, she's only going to get a million times better in an album or two.

Patience - Tame Impala: I love that the cover of this single is a pic of congas because it feels like that's the central thesis here. Kevin Parker bought some congas and is making disco Tame Impala now and I really couldn't be happier about it.

Unconditional (feat. Kitten) - Touch Sensitive: I love a 90s throwback done with love. There's nothing cynical or ironic about this it's just fun as hell!

Last Hurrah - Bebe Rexha: Get a fucking load of this Bebe Rexha song that interpolates Buy U A Drank by T-Pain for the chorus! It's a testament to how good that song is that she's using the verse melody as the chorus. T-Pain will quite literally never get the respect he deserves. Also this song goes for 2.5 minutes. There's something happening where pop songwriting is getting more and more compact, completely trimming the fat and ornamentation and it's very interesting.

Hi Bich - Bad Bhabie: Also I'm fully six months late on Hi Bich but I'm of the opinion that it's extremely fucking good. A perfect little reaction gif of a song and it only goes for 1m45!

Friends - Flume: I'm doubling down on my thesis about emo rap from last month but this song literally sounds like a Flume remix of a Hawthorne Heights song. The whole melody of it, the overlapping yelled/clean vocals. The lyrics obviously. I don't know it's just very odd how close it is. A sort of emo trojan horse to trick people into thinking The Used are cool again.

How To Build A Relationship (feat. JPEGMAFIA) - Flume: I've been meaning to check out JPEGMAFIA (AKA Buttermilk Jesus AKA DJ Half-Court Violation AKA Lil' World Cup) for a while but this is the song that convinced me. There's just so much to digest in this. Every line is gold and delivered with massive conviction even when he realises it's total nonsense like 'dont call me unless I gave you my number'.

Bells & Circles (feat. Iggy Pop) - Underworld: Underworld alive 2019?? I love this song becuase Iggy Pop has been riding a fine line between punk provocateur and old man yells at cloud for a while now and this song is the perfect mix of both. You can't hijack airplanes and redirect them to cuba anymore and as a result it's over for liberal democracies. Just yelling about air travel for six minutes and it's good.

Guns Blazing (Drums Of Death Pt. 1) - UNKLE: This beat is some of my favourite DJ Shadow work I think. The menacing organ bass throughout, and especially the distorted drum freakout near the end. It's just great all the way through.

Homo Deus IV - Deantoni Parks: Another Deantoni Parks track like I was raving about last month. This whole album is great and flows together as a single piece of work amazingly. I love the purposefully limited sample palette of each track forcing an evolving groove throughout. He absolutely wrings every bit of variation he can get out of every single sound he uses and once you get into the groove of it it's absolutely mind blowing.

Boredom - The Drones: I love that The Drones can write a song about joining ISIS that's also a lot of fun. Spelling out radicalization in a way anyone can understand and sympathise with and then switching it in the second verse to spell out how we got into this situation anyway.

Loinclothing - Hunters And Collectors: I love how much this song sounds like a voodoo celebration in christian hell.

The Fun Machine Took A Shit And Died - Queens Of The Stone Age: There's a good bit on the live dvd they put out after Lullabies To Paralyze where they play this song and they say it was supposed to be on the album but somebody stole the master recordings from the studio, which is an incredible and brazen crime. Then when they put it out on Era Vulgaris as a bonus track Josh Homme said in an interview "The tapes got lost. Actually, they were just at another studio, but we falsely accused everyone in the world of theft" which is extremely funny. This is really one of their best songs and I sort of really with it had been on Lullabies because it fits perfectly between The Blood Is Love and Someone's In The Wolf type of vibes, I love how it just kind of keeps shifting ideas and riffs throughout. An absolute jam overflowing with ideas.

10AM Automatic - The Black Keys: This song is an all time great in my opinion. It's so straightforward and so effective. I wonder if we'll get a blues rock revival ever or if Jack White still being alive and bad is souring everyone on that idea. This song also has one of my favourite guitar sounds in history I think - the outrageously huge sounding solo that comes out of nowhere and swallows up the rest of the mix like a swirling black hole near the end.

Gamma Knife - King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard: I've never gotten much into King Gizzard and because of their one million albums already it's hard to know where to start but I've been listening to Nonagon Infinity a bit and it's great, it's just good old fashioned 70s prog jams front to back.

Gina Works At Hearts - DZ Deathrays: I absolutely love this song and I absolutely love the second guitar sound in the chorus of this song that sounds like it's made out of thin steel.

Black Brick - Deafheaven: When I saw Deafheaven the other month I was right up the front and it was a life changingly great experience AND they played this new song live for the first time before it went up everywhere like three hours later which was very exciting to be given a sclusie like that. After they finished a guy behind me whispered to his friend "Slayer..." which was very funny to me.

Gemini - Elder: I found this band because one of my Spotify Daily Mixes was all stoner metal for a while, which is a good genre to see all lined up because it'll have Weedeater, Bongripper AND Uncle Acid & The Deadbeats right there in a row for you. Anyway this album is extremely good, the very best kind of stoner metal where it's groovy and fun and has big meaty riffs and ripping big solos and it's extremely easy to listen to three times in a row.

The Paradise Gallows - Inter Arma: My big obsession the past little while has been Inter Arma ever since Stereogum posted The Atavist's Meridian from their new album. It is just so fucking good and I can't believe I've never heard of them before. You know when you find out about an amazing band and then you find out they've been around for nearly ten years and you can't believe everyone in your life has been selfishly hiding them from you?

The Atavist's Meridian - Inter Arma: I think a big part of my enjoyment of this band has also been that I discovered them at the same time as I'm listening to an audiobook of the complete Conan The Barbarian omnibus so I'm very much in the brain space for music that sounds like it would be nice to swing an axe to.

Untoward Evocation - Impetuous Ritual: I love how halfway through this kind of just turns into a big swirling mist of dark sounds. It feels so formless and dark that it could just shake apart and dissipate at any moment and you'd look down to realise your skin is gone.

Eagle On A Pole - Conor Oberst: from Genius: 'In an interview with MTV news, Oberst stated “We were on the bus one day and a friend of ours that travels with us and works for the band kind of came out from the back of the bus and said that first line: ‘Saw an eagle on a pole… I think it was an eagle.’ And then this guy Simon Joyner, who is a great songwriter from Omaha and one of my great friends, he was on tour with us and sitting there and he was like, ‘You know, that’s a great name for a song.’ We kind of had a contest where he wrote a song with that first line, and [then] I did, and a couple of our other friends. We kind of all played them for each other. Simon’s is better than mine, but it is a good line to start a song.” Another version–Mystic Valley Band drummer Jason Boesel’s interpretation–is on the next album, Outer South.' The idea that such a good song has such a braindead origin only makes me love it more.

Lake Marie - John Prine: When I saw John Prine the other month he played this song that I had never heard before and I had to look it up after and now I'm completely obsessed with it. It feels like falling asleep during a movie and missing a critical plot point so the rest doesn't make sense when you wake up but is thrilling nonetheless. Also he absolutely screamed "SHADOWS!!!" when he played it which was a fucking cool thing to see a 72 year old man do.

Little White Dove - Jenny Lewis: The drums on this whole album are absolutely huge for some reason and I love it. My favourite recent sound is in the first chorus where there's a funny little pitch correction noise as she sings 'dove'. It's very strange and very very good.

Locked Up - The Ocean Party: I only found out The Ocean Party existed as they announced their farewell show this month which is a real shame but I'm glad I got to hear of them at all because they're very good. A very good song about that feeling we all know and love: driving for a long long time.

Plain & Sane & Simple Melody - Ted Lucas: I found out about this song from Emma Ruth Rundle's Amoeba Records video and she makes a good point about this whole album sounding like something's gone wrong and it got accidentally pitched down slightly in the recording process. It's unclear if that's what happened or that's just how he sounds but it adds a very softly spooky undercurrent to a very nice song.

listen here

#playlists

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pagesofkenna · 6 years

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Contents of Box 1:

August 2014 issue of The New Era

my textbook from my Film Music class (which i took in 2012)

manual and user info for my first smartphone

two used lengths of random fabrics

the cat parody of the His Master’s Voice painting that my mom got me when i was really young ‘cause it looks like my first cat before she died and i thought i’d lost this!!!

the instruction box that came with the tarot set i bought in elementary school

a cutout of one of those old MormonAds - the original Mormon memes

half a pound of pennys, from my original penny collection, in 1) a tin cup with a swiss army logo and a carabiner handle and 2) an emptied out See’s Candy box

that TARDIS mug i bought where the image changed if you put hot water in it, which was warped when my roommates ran it through the dishwasher :(

a tiny clay TARDIS i made out of clay in highschool art class when i was bored

a STACK of Artist Trading Cards we made in highschool - some i made and some from my classmates who are now famous artists and these are so rare i’ll be RICH

a stick of mostly unused deodorant

the Franziska von Karma pillowcase Christy bought me forever ago i was WONDERING where that was!!!

a gotchapon capsule full of screw eye rings from when i thought i might turn my various toys into keychains

various toys including: a fake lizard; a tiny fat zombie figure; a toad (from Mario) figure; a nondescript green monster; a chibi The Hulk

my very first Election Officer pin!!

a SANSA MP3 player hot DAMN

really old photographs that i think are from middle school or elementary school, most of my cats, a lot of trees

a double-sided free preview comic of Revenge and Dark Tower: Drawing of the Three

a signed copy of volume 1 of Todd: The Ugliest Kid on Earth

a composition notebook half full with institute notes, which ALSO includes ALL of my Avatar: The Guardian Spirit fanfic notes!!! (is this a sign that i should finally write that fic?)

several pretty rocks

Taylor’s 2014 Valentine <3 <3 <3

a completely unopened nail stamping kit

an unopened envelope with my name on it??

a tiny old purse i never used, containing: 5 million emery boards; a chopstick case; various hair supplies; a round eraser; fifteen cents; a USB drive with my name on it (!)

a single old sock

about 5 pounds worth of random papers, primary lesson notes and class doodles etc etc

#this list is abridged to just the funniest contents of this box #there was more random stuff #i had half filled a trash bag before opening this box and that bag is now full #brb gonna go get another bag

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ohgodhedidthat · 7 years

Text

When I was a Kid: Pokemon

Bulbasaur. Grass/Poison Type. The Seed Pokemon. It can go for days without eating a single morsel. In the bulb on its back, it stores energy. I was – and arguably still am – a fat kid. I’d blame genes, or that my parents grew up poor and thus didn’t want their kid to be deprived of anything, but really I just liked food. Like liked food. So I didn’t just eat that one slice of cake I’d need to be full – the whole cake or nothing please. Just one egg? No give me five sunny side ups please. Oh you were looking for the carton of chocolate milk Mom bought the other day? I finished it while watching Buffy sorry not sorry. This extended far beyond food. I’m not sure if it’s my addictive personality, or innate drive to just be the best in anything I do, but yeah. The Series of Unfortunate Events? Finished all thirteen books in a week. My exams? Aced them all. Swim meets? Gold or nothing. And, to my friends’ chagrin, this extended to everything that I’d rather my parents not know. Alcohol? No such thing as simply tipsy. Weed? Greening out was what we aim for. First date? If we’re not going to have sex, we’re not going to have a second date. Why settle for one morsel when you can have the entire silo?

Charmander. Fire Type. The Lizard Pokemon. The flame at the tip of its tail makes a sound as it burns. You can only hear it in quiet places. Growing up as the firstborn kid of Christian fundamentalist Asian parents was hard. Growing up as the firstborn son of Christian fundamentalist Asian parents who were the leaders of their church was even harder. So there really weren’t enough words to describe how hard it was to grow up as the firstborn son of Christian fundamentalist Asian parents who were leaders of their church AND be as huge of a faggot as I was. I knew I was gay from the very start. I knew it the moment I saw Simba waved his mane back and forth and felt that warm fuzzy feeling rush through my body. I knew it when my best friend’s older brother checked on us shirtless and I couldn’t look him straight in the eye. I knew it whenever my mom took me out to buy clothes and I’d walk by the underwear section three times and felt that familiar lump on my throat when I’d see photos of ripped torsos in nothing but tighty whities. But I had to push it all away. I was the eldest grandson from both sides of the family. Everyone loved how well-behaved I was. They adored how smart I was. They’re in awe of how spiritual I’ve become. I was going to be a doctor, marry my childhood best friend (who I’ve supposedly known since I was a fetus because our parents were family friends and we were born two months apart), have three kids, and carry the family name. I was their last hope because the my only older male cousin fell into drugs, didn’t finish school, and now in jail. I was perfect and he was a shame so I need to make my parents proud. They gave me food, shelter, and all the (un)conditional love they could muster. The least I could do was live up to what they want me to be. And so I did. But at night, before I sleep, I can hear it. It’s always there, it’s always bugging me. “You’re a faggot, Harry.”

Squirtle. Water Type. The Tiny Turtle Pokemon. Shoots water at prey while in the water. Withdraws into its shell when in danger. Asthma as a kid wasn’t fun. The tiniest bit of dust can send me doubling over a corner, wheezing like a ninety year-old on the last legs of her sad pathetic life. Every time I had an attack, it felt like two huge claws digging through my back, squeezing my lungs so bad they’d explode any second. So my pedia suggested swimming. Train my lungs how to breathe under dire circumstances and all. My parents were glad cause finally they can push son into a sport and I couldn’t complain cause it’s doctor recommended. Little did they know I was so into it because who doesn’t like cute boys in speedoes? And I loved it. I may be a bumbling awkward hippo on land, but underwater I was a majestic whale. My friends can jump higher and run faster, but I can dive deeper and hold my breath for longer. I may not be Ariel, but I sure gave Flounder a run for his money. The pool became my haven. I met my first boyfriend during a meet, and got my heartbroken by my second boyfriend after one. I had just finished fifty laps when my mom called about my university acceptance; I was just about to start them when she told me Grandma passed away. And to this day, it’s that acrid smell of chlorine that calms me down and tells me that everything’s going to be alright.

Pikachu. Electric Type. The Mouse Pokemon. It keeps its tail raised to monitor its surroundings. If you yank its tail, it will try to bite you. It’s been a long day. I had two midterms, finished three papers, and forgot my lunch. Plus the swim meet’s in three days. To say that Coach has been working us to death would be an understatement. The sun’s already gone when I got off my bus. I mean, it’s November so it’s not like the sun’s going to be out for long, but still. I wrapped my scarf tighter around my neck I felt that cold winter breeze. I’d be cranky, but the cold reminded me that I’m still alive. Or rather, that I still had legs. They were in so much pain earlier they practically numbed halfway through warmup. “I’m home!” I shout, the windchimes clanging on the door as I enter my house. Mom got the idea from my aunt. Said it’d make sure no one snuck out. Lucky for me my aunt installed it in their house first and my cousins already had a foolproof way to get around it within days of Mom putting it on. I found Mom sitting on the couch, clutching a framed photo of mine. Her eyes were red. “Wow, did someone die?” I asked as I gave her a hug. I was expecting a snarky remark, usually something about how ugly my nose was because I got it from Dad or how smelly I was because I didn’t shower that well. But nope, not this time. She simply sniffed, looked at me, then at my picture, and sniffed some more. What the actual fuck. I sat beside her and put my hand over hers. “Ma?” “Did we do anything wrong?” she muttered, tears streaming down her face, “Where did we go wrong? Tell us Ethan, please. What happened?” Something clearly. But I sure wasn’t a mind reader. Mom took her phone in her pocket and showed me a photo. It was Laura, Abby, Gabriel, and I – the usual foursome who’s known each other since we were kids cause our parents all went to the same church and got pregnant at the same time. Good Christian kids, or at least that’s what their parents knew. Until now. It was a photo of us four that Sam, Abby’s boyfriend, took during a house party last week. Laura, Abby and I were holding red cups. Gabe had his hands around my waist while I was nibbing at his ear. Shit. I explicitly told Sam not to post it. Fuck this. “I…have to go,” I said, bolting to my room. I sent a quick text to our group chat. Guys, we have a problem.

#when i was a kid #crwr 213 #piece 2: pokemon #short story #pokemon

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