Monday Morning in Dayton

I cannot think of anything that happened on Tuesday so my only conclusion can be that nothing happened on Tuesday at all. Twas a negative void in all the universe in which nothing occurred and some vast intergalactic being gained so so many days from living creatures that he added onto his own life certain immortality. This unknown supreme being stole everyone’s Tuesday and thanks to it shall eventually out live the universe itself. His curse shall be to sit alone and bored in the leftovers of all that was; cosmic stew and space decay shall stain his sneakers a nasty yellow brown.

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Ohio State fair

Weaving past bored children and excited grandparents we go around the corner to be confronted by a giant smokey the bear. This bear is clearly hand made. Something in his face is off which gives you an uneasy feeling. Like who is this deformed imposter pretending to be smokey the bear?! The worst thing of all was the draw string mouth of obvious puppeteering. The voice of the bear was coming from the very obvious speaker near by. This was the most average voice of the most average guy I have ever heard. He must be an OSU student perhaps volunteering because it looks good on the resume. Anyway I was going to pose for a picture in front of the plastic monstrosity when the voice begins to directly address one of the children passing by.

How does Satan know his name? I wonder. I watch in horrified amusement with less shame than looking at a car accident. I have no idea where the voice is coming from, which I will give them credit for. However the receiving mic seemed to be faulty. The giant fake bear of evil and doom asked the child “What’s your favorite part of the fair so far Brian?” The little boy nervously began to answer and midway through speaking the bear yells “That’s great I liked that too!” Obviously the bear truly did not hear him. Smokey the bear is a liar and a fraud! I no longer desired any sort of photo with the creature. We moved on. The blind and deaf the beast was being fed information. The false profit knew nothing of our coming and going. It appeared that he only ate children’s souls so we easily escaped unharmed.

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Friday with Rei Greencoat and Needly

Back out we walked into the rain like entering another world. This world was wet cold and harsh. People were clumsy and drunk out here. They are the stragglers and stumblers left over from other locations who finally yelled out last call like a night bell ringing out over the town. Greencoat decided he wanted some Late Night Slice pizza. This is the cool pizza place that projects movies onto the wall. I’ve been wanting to hang out there and watch a movie for some time but I realized on Friday at least the play music so you couldn’t hear the movie if you wanted. None the less I’d still been wanting to try their pizza. I ended up buying a piece of cheese and garlic and yes it was delicious. I really want to try their spicy so I may have to make a meat exception in the near future. Here Rei got pissed about something and reached the point of yelling. I just sat inside out of the rain and ate my pizza peacefully. That food was too yummy to worry about her passing grump moment.

We walked back to the car as the rain became a genuine downpour. It took a moment to find because I’d had to park somewhere out of the normal. There in the steady shower of rain. With my feet and shoes getting soaked completely through, It was like walking across a bathtub this steady even layer of ground water, there was my car baconator with a ticket on the window. A soaked through piece of paper. A slushy bit of parchment and ink. $40 when I’d just spent the evening using a credit card. My bank account held but a mere $12.

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My First Columbus Gallery Hop

I saw a lot of fancy nice designer clothes. I saw a million well put together outfits. I saw yuppies and yacht owners.

I saw homeless and stinky.

I saw tourists walking around with wide eyes and cameras at the ready.

I saw families. I saw couples of every possible sort. I saw a million dogs many of them small and so damn cute. Apparently one of the custard shops on High Street was giving out free plain custard with a dog bone to any dog for free this day.

I saw furies. I saw a bunch of full on dog costume people with masks, tails and collars. There were actually a lot of them.

I saw people and children wearing fairy wings.

I saw Drag Queens in beautiful gowns.

I saw organizations which had all their people wearing the same color shirt. Some slogan was printed across I’m sure it said who they were and what they did but I never saw close enough to know what that was. There were at least three different shirts out there a dozen or so being within each pack.

I saw a large group of girls dressed as airline stewardesses. I believe they were handing out flyers for something maybe?

I saw a group of five skate boarders all ride down the street. In unison they kicked off down the road at full speed basically keeping up with the cars who were trapped in the busy High Street stop and go.

And all along the sidewalk you could find tables selling local art, handcrafted jewelry, printed T-shirts, organic goods and more. Many corners featured fantastic musicians playing for money and dressed in their own cool ass style.

When I was off I was off. YHA was set to play at 10:30 at Kafe Kerouac which is on High Street. I walked as fast as I could. I dodged and bobbed in-between the sea of human beings. I squeezed through and I excused. I hurried and scurried. I ran across green light roads. All the while I ignored the pain in my legs and feet.

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Cam Market in Columbus

Boone is a tea natzi so he got a particular boner for the tea section. There are large jars of various teas from which you can purchase by the pound. There are little tea trays which Boone was initially excited over. They have multiple types of tea pots, mugs and all sort of tea accessories. The only complaint that can be raised is one that has been said about every place like this in the state. Nobody has a Gywan. It’s supposed to be a tea cup used in China very regularly. Boone looks for them everywhere but they are oddly no where to be found.

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Columbus life week two

My home is a hobbit hole in the ground buried into the far right corner of a labyrinth. I’m serious the twists and turns of the Fox and Hound apartments are easy to get lost within. There are hidden surprises like a clear swimming hole, running wheels and stones to lift so you might increase your strength and agility. There is also a gathering place where you’ll find machines filled with various cakes and snacks easily taken with you on any adventures you my take on. And maybe there are some stinky monster dumpsters and maybe a brave dog in passing off to run some quest thanks to the aid of his loyal human so pathetically dim witted he must follow along tied to his dog champion by a string.

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Columbus last Saturday

Mel-Dog was really excited to see this last band unfortunately the lack of food, sleep, walking constantly, lack of water and having not partook in so long caught up with me. I started feeling really dizzy. I was getting super light headed and felt like I was swaying on my feet. I told myself not to. I told myself not to ruin everything by being that girl who passes out. I really didn’t want to but I must admit I have passed out several times in my life and I suppose something I’m prone to do. The world began to go black and white and I was numb every where but a flush of heat across head. I was falling backward and I said quickly “I have to sit down.”

They sat down with me instantly concerned as I was instantly humiliated and mad at myself. It felt like dehydration and I think to myself “Damnit, this is what you get for all those times you deliberately dehydrated yourself to stay trashed longer. This is karma for treating your body like that.” I’m not willing to accept that I’m getting too old for fun however I will acknowledge a need to eat better, sleep more and drink more water.

So we sit there and we can hear Mel’s band and I feel really bad that we can’t be standing up listening. We sit in a circle and I drink a Gatorade, and nearly two bottles of water. I drink all that but my head is still swimming and my mouth is still dry.

I feel a little nauseous but I’m less dizzy when we decide fight to get up and see the band. Next thing I know I’m following Mel through a thick sea of humans. We are weaving through them like a tight labyrinth maze. We stand to the side because Mel knows some guy in the band. I think he says Hi to us in passing, or maybe he stopped to talk to her.

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Kate E Lore on July 4th and some other American Holidays

I don’t want to come off as an asshole when I say I’ve never given a shit about the fourth of July but that’s basically what I’m saying here.

I like BBQ’s and sparklers and seeing my friends. I like smores, bonfires and beer. I cannot say however that I have ever truly associated any of these activities as a celebration of America. I realize that is supposed to be the purpose however it has never been heavily present in my mind. If anything my favorite part of Fourth of July is getting fireworks illegally from out of state. My favorite part of this holiday celebrating my country is breaking the law?

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A little over a weekend

I have this thing I like to call Summer Fever. It’s this anxiety that sinks into your skin with the heat of the sun. It warms up your bloodstream to boiling which will cloud your vision and cause your brain to pulse in its skull shell. This fever is a need to get out, a need to be out, an undeniable craving for fun. Last summer this fever got the better of me and I got in some trouble. This year I’m trying to get a handle on it, but at least so far I’m not the only one infected.

I took pictures and enjoyed nature all by myself. I find it better for observing better for reflecting when you go all alone. This last month in Dayton for me is filled with silent goodbyes. I know I won’t be far and I know that I’ll be back, but I’d like to better appreciate and remember the places and people I’ve taken for granted.

It was sprinkling in a cooling summer haze as we drove home. Raindrops fat splatter on the ground far and few between. Quickly absorbed by the thirsty dry soil they leave no evidence behind.

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What happened to the Squid kids?

We sit in this living room surrounded by boxes stacked high and towering all around us. Some are leaning against the wall. Others I observe impressively defying gravity on their own accord. Some of these boxes are staked low in a manner suitable for furniture replacement.

He sits on a well cushioned very old couch. It’s the sort you can sink into and don’t mind the stains. I have a stiff kitchen chair pulled up and a clipboard in hand. I lean my arm on one of these boxes and glance at the writing in sharpie marker across the cardboard. Orange Milk records. Inside are brand new CDs, and records. They are freshly printed carrying that new factory plastic scent.

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