Everything is okay in Big Sur.

Nostalgia struck me hard today, rolled in like clouds and rained on my parade. Sitting on a hardwood floor thumbing through artwork, I was taken back to Big Sur. For those who know this place, know ecstasy. I am back on my mountain with all of my friends watching the sunset where the west coast comes to an end. On top of the world above the cloudline, feeling your soul sink into the sublime. I miss this home, I miss the dirt that cakes onto your hands, sleeping bag, and your shirt. That is, if you're wearing one...because most often than not you'll be throwing off clothes once you get to the top. I can still smell the whiskey on our breath, feel the wind in my dreads from riding on the top of the beast, and the stab of hitch hikers in my bare feet. Goddess parties, topless in the trees, crying, laughing, drunk on eachother's company. Dancing on the roof, Red Stripes and cigars for breakfast, beer showers, and sunburns. It's all there. It's just me that's not. When I die, throw me off a cliff in Big Sur to rot.

Da Bizness

So I wrote half of this a few days ago and the rest today. Considering rapping it or using it for slam poetry sometime. Feedback is encourged. Thanks. So I'm sitting here pondering life in my fist
thinking "there's really no need to get pissed
cus I work everyday and I'm still poor as fuck."
Just a material girl a little down her on luck.
But that got me going down another thought path
You know I'm actually well off if you consider the math...
I've got shoes on my feet, air in my lungs
Live in the land of the free so I can still purchase guns
And what more could you ask for in this day and age?
You can still live like kings and yet be slaves to the wage
But I'll be the first to admit that I don't have it all
Remembering the adage "oh how the mighty do fall"
Live as simple as you can and I'm sure that you'd find
that real value is locked in your heart and your mind.
Not your iphone, your laptop, your high tech contraptions
Though I have my fair share and they are lovely distractions
Just please don't forget that you are here with a purpose
We're all little acts in this huge freak show circus
And we're only as strong as our weakest of links
So we're all going down if this fucking ship sinks...

Regarding our origins

Here's a little blurb I wrote the other day after reading the Urantia Papers for a few hours in the sections titled "First Human Family" and "Evolution Overcontrol". I wrote this small ryhme to basically sum up the chapters.

You see it all starts with a sea sponge inhabiting the shoreline

Representing the borderline between animal and vegetable

It's contestable to say that life matter came from cosmic splatter

left uninvested by superior planning.

Our stab in the dark planet, that was meant to be Satanic

made quite a name for itself in years to come

Apes got some will, made weapons to kill,

and a pair of twins left home pretty young

At this point it's all about breeding,

interweaving of genetic lines till you're able to find

a proper mate with desireable traits so we can fuse, body, spirit, and mind.

So that's the synopsis of those chapters. Hmm...History.. Hmm..

Tuesday morning 1, Hammerhead 0.

Who knew a Tuesday morning could be so terribly akward. This morning seemed to be going quite well. How very fooled I was by your seemingly pleasant air,Tuesday...

Woke up around 9:30. Got some donuts with Timber (very unexpected unspoken psychic urge between both of us, only realized as I casually mentioned it walking out the door. Timber wanted donuts too and that is NOT a usual thing for either of us). I digress..... We were on our way out to buy some more coffee for our porch sittin session so we headed off to Safeway after Acme Donuts. Once in Safeway I make a beeline for the coffee aisle. I make it 3/4 the way down the aisle before a vision brings me to a halt. Ahh recognition. Standing there checking out the cereal is the boy I bravely gave my number to in Trader Joes last year. I had discontinued my cell phone about a week of not receiving a call from him. Did he ever call? Who knows. (please see FML.com). So I turn back quickly to see if Timber understands the situation at hand. She does not. I turn back trying to pull the tiny bit of normal hair I have left over my eyes. Death Lock Style.

My shab-ass attempt at hiding my identity is thwarted. Mr. TJ notices me, and recognizes me. He says "Hey". I say "Hi". He says "What's going on?" I say "Not much", staring at the coffee selection like I'm trying to burn holes in the cans with my lazer vision. I choose a brand quickly and dart to the end of the aisle to redenvous with Timber. She asks me, "Did you know that guy just said Hi to you?" I say, "Do you know who that guys is!?!?!??!!" I refresh her mind. She laughs heartily. FUUUCK. Made even more akward by the fact that he keeps popping up in the same sections of the store as us, including self-checkout. I thought I was safe in SE seeing as though his Trader Joe's location is in NE. Thank you, Akward Tuesday Morning for reminding me that it's never quite safe to just roll out of bed in the morning and mosey on out into the public....

Porch Sittin

Mmm. yessss.. The weather is getting just right now for comfortably reclinin on the ole porche and reading myself a book, or in this case, bloggering. Yesterday afternoon Timber and I took it upon ourselves to embibe a glass of wine and dive into some literary pursuits.

My personal conquest, has been a work in progress....... for the last 3 years! It's a 2097 page beast about the culmination of mankind, our planet, our universe, and beyond. Clearly not light reading. And since Mercury is in retrograde (a revisiting of communication, transportation, education, etc) I decided to revisit The Urantia Papers. I have a plan of finishing this book sometime mid year 2012. My father insisted that I read the entirety of this book before I die (I'm on page 725) so I took his word for it and have been gnawing off huge chunks of it ever since. Heaven help me finish this fucking book someday... Oh HAI Master Universe....

Moreover, another nice addition to our porch sittin has been the adoption of Nature, the cat. Or rather, Nature has adopted us. He is the cutest thing ever. His name tag says "Ranger" but I find that to be a retarded name for a cat. Our roommate, Brian, thought we said his name was "Nature" so there you have it. Nature insists that he lives with us, always running into our house and whatnot. I'm willing to play along for now....

I'm hoping all this wonderful lounging going on outside will inspire some more rhymes. Gotsta be getting on my A-game. I've been feeling a wave of creativity starting to flow over me these past few weeks. VENUS IS BACK MUTHAFUCKAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Breakfast Remix

Hey all. Feeling slightly under the weather today due to last night's Carlo Rossi binge with my ladies. After revisiting my breakfast, I felt inspired to blog about much nicer things like some of my favorite Portland establishments and vendors. So here we go.

Vendors

Antic- Why is he sooooo cool? Antic is a locally based artist who pretty much pops out little gems on American Apparel shirts. Fucking golden. He's got a store in NE PDX as well as a booth at the Saturday Market. Recently he's been printing his designs on these fantastic underwears from Seattle. I want them. Anywho, if you're interested you can check his website out at http://www.anticink.com/. Not only does he have Premades available but will also do custom (CUSTTTOOOMM!!**$$$##$$!!) prints on whatever you fucking want. He's pretty easy on the eyes too, if I do say so myself.

Next up.

Courtney is a Seahorse- Effing love her. The first time I found her booth at the Saturday Market I walked by and had to pull a double take. So much rainbow bursting with feathers and gem stones. Basically everything I could ever want in a fashion designer. It's incredible really, how she takes really subtle earthy tones and throws some iridescence on that shit and POW! a masterpiece. I'm having a hard time getting over my new feather hair thing from her. And plus, she seems to be a really cool girl. Anywho, I applaud her efforts because her booth's got me coming back for more. I demand that you visit her website http://www.courtneyisaseahorse.com/

Note! Courtney also does clothes and hair pins. *flutter*

Restaurants

Jam on Hawthorne- So bomb. This establishment is cool and everyone knows it so you're going to have to wait outside. But it's cool cus there's coffee out there and hopefully some sunshines. The real kicker is once you get in, their breakfast cocktail selection is pure magic. So many kinds of mamosas and bloody marys, you'll spend most of your time looking at this part of the menu. Whatever you order food wise, will probably be quality as well. Overall, shit is worth the wait.

The Doug Fir- Reasons why I like this place- the food is pretty damn good, the prices are reasonable, there is always good music downstairs, and the wait staff is pretty attractive. Oh, and their water is good which sounds stupid but trust me. It's better than other water. I also have a soft place in my heart for the Doug Fir because it was here that I snuck in underage to a Subtle show and got to meet the very sexy and very kind, Dose One. *sigh* Only draw back to this place is the seemingly blank men standing at the door checkng ids. They don't have a sense of humor, and that's not their fault I guess.

So I had every intention of commenting on some of my favorite Stumptown bars earlier but it's come to my attention that this blog is starting to resemble a novel (blovel if you will) and that just won't do. Plus, breakfast remix has really slowed me down quite a bit and has got me slightly less inspired to talk about alcohol. So fair thee well as I try to shake off this feeling because honestly, right now I feel like a bag of dicks. THANKS!

MC Gift Rap is on her way back.

Used to know a man who considered his art
to be tearing all the people who had loved him apart.
And looking back on it now I guess I'd call him a boy.
A boy who hated his mother,
and treated women like toys.
But don't really think that I can blame him for that
He's just a product of a broken home and Jack Kerouac.
All philosophy and novels just to find him some reason.
Then he'd chew it up and spit it out with the change of the season.
For example on that morning I woke up on the couch
thinking "where could he be hiding in a single bedroom house?"
Had a pretty good idea went to the room and walked in
And you were kinda hookin up and she was kinda my friend
So if you couldn't tell there's still a bit of lingering angst
cus I was always there for you, and this is how you say "thanks?"