The longest word in the english language you can make out of my name is "blathering"

Some random things...

1)We went to St. Luke's again Sunday. No, really, we woke up at like 7 and got batteries for the flashlights, and we were all super charged and stuff. It was mega cool. It was super mega cool. We found the scariest rape room in all of Cleveland. And you will see those pictures someday. After Flickr stops taking it's sweet ass time loading those pictures. I've been trying to load them for 48 hours now. 48 hours for 155 pictures is redonkalous. Oh, and I'm bringing that back.

2) The Saturday before, Alli and I were going to try and see Capitalism: A Love Story. But I was late, and we missed it. Oh capitalism, guess I don't love you that much. So instead we went to Collinwood to look at some artsy stuff. I bought a picture, and Alli made Sasha over at Waterloo Cafe try and steam some Baileys for her espresso. I wanted to try and get a copy of the new Pink Eye Magazine, so I could look at my shit in there, but we got drunk too fast and couldn't wait out its arrival. So we headed back to Prosperity and had dinner, drank some more. Two mandolin players showed up, and a couple of drunk guys jigged. A pitfall to getting drunk with Alli (no, there are no pitfalls, not really) is that her mom and my mom hang out and get drunk too. Also, both of us laugh like our mothers. So here we are, 30, drinking alcoholic coffee drinks in a woodlined bar with a bunch of older people in nice coats, laughing like our mothers and tapping our feet to fucking mandolins, and it just all kind of hits you at once. But it hits you, kisses you on the forehead, and then runs away giggling. You get old, after all. I mean, you do. I don't.

Afterwards, we met up with some people at Tina's, which is a place I'm pretty sure doesn't exist except when you're looking for it. And even that is sketchy. I saw some guys I hadn't seen in a while, and Nikki from the Exchange sang a great version of Journey, which means of course that the entire bar sang a great version of Journey, and we stayed out way later than we had meant to, given our 7 am appointment (see above). There was a guy named Bob, who had a beer holder made of a bobcat head. Simultaneously really cool and really reprehensible. On the way home, I put on that Calvin Harris album I was so unimpressed by the first time I listened to it. And it turns out that Calvin Harris is specifically for driving home at 2 am from the karoake bar, otherwise it totally sucks. How come no one told me this?

3)It happened today. The flu season's first analysis of the word "pandemic". Pandemic and I have hated each other ever since I watched the dvd special features interviews of 28 Days Later. PANDEMIC PANDEMIC PANDEMIC. Until you are all dying of smallpox, I don't want to hear that word ever again. My mother talked me into signing up for a flu shot this year. Last year, I was sick all winter from that shot. I told my mother if it happens again, she's paying my sick leave. She doesn't care, she's a nurse. Nurses have no pity.

4)If you haven't seen it already, go watch the Daily Show segment from last night where John Oliver calls CNN a bunch of...well go watch it.

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
CNN Leaves It There
www.thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Political Humor Ron Paul Interview

5) I really have to sit and write these Halloween stories. I'll do it this weekend, I promise. I mean, I'm all out of Angel episodes on my DVR, so I have time now. I don't know what I will write them about, but I'm sure enough alcohol can fix that. I don't believe in ghosts, or supernatural stuff, or anything that makes up a good ghost story. I don't even really believe in good ghost stories. Making up stuff about dead people wandering around lost between worlds seems to be overly sentimental and trite, unless you are talking about zombies which is okay, or god-killing metaphors for Adam and Eve, which is also okay. But ghosts are always sad, or angry and sad, or confused and sad. Be careful what you're projecting about yourself, ghosthunters. I think it would be amusing to make a film about a group of donkey ghosthunters. I imagine it would play pretty much normal. Oh no, the flashlight moved! Bray Bray Bray!

6) They Might Be Giants - this Thursday. Haunted House friday. Pumpkin carving Saturday? Apple picking Sunday. No, not really. Fuck apple picking this year. It's going to be Christmas before I get to make a decent apple pie. I would like to pretend I'll be doing lots of cooking in the next few weeks, but quite frankly, I haven't done my dishes in a month. If, by some miracle, I do actually get them done, I don't think I need to be creating anymore. Ever again. I think I will learn to eat with my hands and cook everything in the toaster oven on foil. Eventually I will start only wearing foil, and sleeping on foil. I will go blind from the shininess.

Last Night in Collinwood

Of course these pictures have nothing to do with it. But they're symbolic right? Am I starting the race or finishing it?

I didn't get to go to the actual Waterloo Arts Fest yesterday because I was working, but after work I headed over to check out Low Life's closing party for This Is Cleveland (all the stuff I see) exhibit. Connected with my friend Wolf again, and spent some quality time hanging out on the sidewalk meeting people. Headed over to the gallery, where there was a movie I didn't know about - "Battle for Collinwood". Wish I could tell you the name of the guy who made it, but whoever you are, man in the green shirt, it was awesome. A good plot (the story of Danny Greene), and an excuse to have all your friends dress up as gangsters and shoot the shit out of each other to punk music? Always a winning combination. Arte Povera played, and I liked them an awful lot, very danceable, but staying inside was too hot. Their guitarist looks like Paul Rudd.

So, I wandered over to Waterloo 7 to look around. Got greeted by painted puppies at the door, and then hung out in the sculpture garden chatting with some guys who showed me their books of art. The owner Jerry told some good stories about gangsters in Cleveland. Then back across the street to say goodbye, and meet up with some cool kids from Youngstown who try to convince me there is an art and music scene in Youngstown no one knows about, so that's a weekend trip there I guess. An Ethiopian Jew tells me I have the cutest nose and asks if I have pretty feet. I tell him no, and he's very disappointed.

It's a good scene in that neighborhood. Everyone's friendly, everyone wants to meet you. It's relaxing.

Finally back across town to Laura's housewarming party. Small, but I'll always listen to Dawn and Lori talk about shit, and Laura is a consumate hostess. I hang out for about an hour, but then it's 1:30? And it's home to bed.

As a final thought, let me just mention how impressed I am by CB's devotion to the Cleveland scene. I was talking to him outside the gallery, smoking, and I ask if there's any good small shows coming up? Oh, he has a calendar filled on his iphone. He's got a show for every day in July. He is fanatically successful at going places. He is the man with the plans.

Now I'm off to a picnic in the woods, maybe. If it doesn't rain on us.

The Cask of Amontillado, Reinterpreted.

.

I forgot to get the name of the artist who had this installation set up at Shoparooni this past weekend. But whoever you are, I appreciate you.