Killer Smoothies

It's Friday.  Thank you, Week, for this excellent reward for enduring your drudgery.  Let's do it again soon, shall we?

I'm playin' guitars with Jonno tonight.  Then Saturday we're playin' guitars at an art exhibition.  I'm not sure if I know a single detail about it, but word 'round the sandscoop is that we will each be paid not in money but in something better-something far, far better.  "What could be better than money?" you capitalists ask, white collars and US Mint bibs stained in the blood and sweat of the working class.  Well, I'll tell you: a wooden pen.  You heard it here first, folks.  We've been promised a wooden pen.  Each.  The retail of this "Isn't That a Pencil?" artifact is roughly $400.  So while you're over there scratching your boggled head, I'll be gripping the fine-barked oak of a truly remarkable stationary oddity.  Sucks to be you.

I named my guitar Yu Na.  Did I tell you that?

I'm doing away with childish things.  Without delving into detail, I'm slowly removing time-wasters and life-suckers from my soulveins and unchaining my melody from anchors.  Soon, I'll be a truly self-sufficient humanoid living off nothing but the rays of the Sun and the oxygen in the water.  Writing letters to the Lord with a wooden pen.

On my way home from an early morning trip to the local grocery depot, I had an idea for something I wanted to say on this sheet of blog.  Something mildly entertaining, insightful and valuable.  For the life of me, I can't remember what it was.  But I remember enough of the notion to know that it's no loss for you or for me, so we can once again exhale the carbon dioxide we were penting up in lungs in anticipation.  Rest easy, children.

Like Mr. Feeny told Topanga, Corey and Shawn: "Do good."

FRESH POTS!!!

-LS^2

This dude lives on so many levels...

Click Dave's face for FRESH POTS!

Turn On Your Heartlight

Just takin' a jog in the rain and listenin' to Sublime, I was pretty content.  And while I certainly couldn't run forever, I felt compelled to try.  Stay out there in the warm drizzle and hear someone shout songs so good and so simple, pit-pat along the pavement while the Sun tries casually to wake up and just go.  Go go go, man.  Just go, go, go.

What's next?  What's the smart plan compared to the right plan compared to the easiest plan compared to the best plan compared to the even better plan compared to the long-term plan?  What would Dikembe Mutombo do?  Well, he'd probably be able to speak Hangul, first of all.

There's music to write, performances to conceive, money to make, land to smell, Bettys to love up on, mistakes to make and grub worms to eat.  Grr, Yo.

Okay, gonna make pork 'n' salad.  Want some?  'S'all yours, mate.  Bring Cafri, will ya?

Tae Kwon Blammo,
Bounce to this, Bitch.

-LS^2

I don't remember her name,

but I call her 'Lorelei,' and she's gorgeous.

I just realized this is some

Fear and Loathing... shit.

This picture is very important to me,

as was this day.  Plus, I look dope.

Linda & Mateo Salazar, 1975.

Kenchana Song

3 hours of sleep?  Leftover salad for breakfast?  Perpetually opening cut on my right ring-finger?  Oh yeah, Dude, it's gonna be a good day.  I can feel it.

I descended the stairs at 6:40 this morning for what may have been the first time in recent history.  Not to say I'm never up at that time, but just that I don't bop down the stairs so early on the regular.  And as I did, the Sun was in a perfect position to glisten through the top window into the staircase, brilliantly illuminating the discarded chalkboards and omija-stained walkway in which I found myself.  It was lovely, as was the crisp morning air.  1 minute later, however, I was back up in my room, and that's where you'll find me at this moment: content, awake, aware, alert, alive, cordial, polite, enthusiastic.  Feelin' good.

As it's only 7:00, I have about 3 extra hours this morning compared to the time I have been keeping this last week, which has included long naps.  But not today.  Nuh uh.  Gon' make it happen this morning.  First thing's first: upload the new student pictures to their profiles.  Call it a passion project, but the uncropped, 3 year old images representing my students simply didn't cut it any more.  So I did something about it.  Now, to apply the same kind of verve to anything else in my life.  There's the rub.

Speaking of rubs, come massage my body, slave.

Be well today, Juniors and Seniors.  Graduation is approaching faster than you realize, and you haven't even considered what to do with your Summer vacation.  Take your playtime seriously.  Seriously.

That is all.  Flip tape over now.  *BEEP*

-LS^2

Bunny Mommy, mother fucker.

Puss Riot, 'cause the iron's neva been hotta.

I feel the same way, Eun Ju.

Victory Dance

In any successful human being's manifesto, there is probably not a section that says "When you have the chance, always go back to sleep."  And yet I just keep on doin' it in the morning.  In my defense, I'm having pretty epic dreams.  Talent shows, gymnasiums, overflowing synchronized-fish tanks, bikers moshing, soccer kids.  It's a shit storm of amazing in this melon of mine.

I have 11 minutes until class starts.  I'm just waiting for my coffee to cool before I zip down there and run circles with my first class.  After they sing me Happy Birthday, of course.

Wine.
Richard Simmons.
Liberty.
Shoulder strength.
Nutrition.
A female-less society.
Tailor-made clothing.
Honesty.
The early 90s.

These are some of the things on my mind right now.  And with that, I take my coffee (whatever the temperature) and scoot downstairs.

I'm awesome.

-LS^2

I read the news today.  Oh boy!

Nathan Barnatt

In a world where joys are to be appreciated, click on this dude's picture.

Nathan Barnatt

Dance is Power.
Dance is Victory.
-LS^2

Bump Bump it's Hump Hump Day!

As of 8 minutes ago, I have a new reader.  I'd best watch my tongue.  Welcome, 김소영!  And yes, I left class and immediately sat down in front of the computer.  I'm a damn sellout.  A phony.  A cool liquid mess.

I really can't shake the tireds.  Actually, that's not true.  But I'm having a hard time shaking them with this schedule of going to sleep around 2am.  That's not what my body likes to do, nor is it what my mind likes to do.  I don't think that's what my spirit seahorse likes to do either.  Add those these components together and you've got That's Not What I Like To Do.  But I keep doing it because I'm addicted to not learning from my mistakes.  Ho hum.  Won't get me tonight, though.  No way, Love.  'Cause I'm'a write my report cards and go the fuck to bed.  After I write this.  And play guitar.  And eat something.  And alphabetize my rice.  I'm bad at making rice.  Maybe because it's out of alphabetical order...

My throat is also sore.  Why?

Lex is out there makin' art and sweepin' chimneys.  He's tryin' to convince me it's the life for me just as he's trying to convince himself that it's the life for him.  Maybe it is, maybe it isn't.  I think it sounds dope, but for now I'm out here living someone's dream.  Not mine, but probably someone's.  This dude's?

Before I leave you to the disorienting reality you have carefully crafted out of your time on this planet, allow me to push something upon you:  Nathan Barnatt is a funny mother fucker.  He's a regular at UCB LA and I first saw his videos a few years ago by accident.  I didn't pay him much mind, but in the roundabout of LA, I would see him working on videos or see him on the cover of LA Weekly.  I just happened upon some of his stuff again, and while I don't vibe with all of it, some of it makes me piss myself laughing.  He's a rad dancer, noteworthy stuntman and avid video game aficionado.  He's stone cold sober as far as I know, too, and I always find that admirable.  So Nathan Barnatt, if you're reading this, please send me some shoes as well.  And fill 'em with Skittles, couldja?

All right, that's all for now, birdies.  Mama's fresh outta vomit.

Big Up to Brooklyn, Nucka.

-LS^2

The God-awfully beautiful Cherry Blossoms

that just started a'bloomin'.

Radical measure to ensure safety.

Boppin' around with Jürgen's lenses.

2 Almonds 1 Cup.

Nathan Barnatt

as

Keith Apicary

...

WATCH HIM AS NEWLIN MANTROSE

Ren's Stimpy

Dude, like, you can't even imagine.

Well maybe you can.  I just really wanted to start the post like that.

I spent the night tonight at the Forest Café where people wanted me to sing as bad as they wanted me to stop.  Fickle audiences mixed with a 90 proof language barrier equates to my uncomfortablity.  Not my problem, dude.  Not my fuckin' problem.  Actually, it is kind of...

I laid in bed until 12:40pm today, a sign that I'm not feeling well.  Not 'My tummy hurts' unwell, but more like 'My mind is confused' unwell.  The thoughts I have, the ideas I want to pursue, the job I have, the country I'm in, the friends at my disposal and the mind I own are all completely at odds.  My heart is not being followed.  I would say it's my fault, but I think it's more an inside-out thing.  I'm searching for it.

I'll stop there before I get to hyperbolic and ridiculous.

I have good thoughts and bad thoughts.  Don't you?

Stay Strong, Babies...

-LS^2

This is awesome.

Facebook Schmacebook

Dear Blog,

I killed my Facebook account today.  Get ready for more attention now that your brother is gone.  I really should be writing this letter to my Journal, but there are some jokes she just doesn't get.
Goodnight for now, Rumproast.

Digitally Sovereign,
Lukie Barookie

Dedicated Follower of Fashion

I've spent the morning wearing nothing but a sweater vest and fedora.

-LS^2

LD50

This morning I woke up at 10am.  Well, no.  I woke up at 6am like I always do, then fought another limp-hearted battle with myself regarding my motivation to arise.  This time, however, I hit the canvas rather hard and put in another 4 hours (give or take the minutes spent I waking up, assessing my cyclic situation and ultimately deciding there was nothing I could do about it).  This put me behind my preferred schedule for the day.  So what did I do?  I hustled.  I drank my fruit slop, did my homework, did my workout without wasting a single moment and--HOLY HELL!--I was right on schedule again!  This showed me that in my day-to-day, I have the ability to waste an immense amount of time in the morning, which is something one should not do.  This life necessitates constant analysis, it does.

So finding myself right on schedule again, I trotted downtown in the beautiful 20º weather and lobbed myself up the stairs to Café Maybe.  This will be the sight of Jeomchon's first ever Open Mic Night, hosted by Jonno and myself.  I got my Americano with an extra shot of motor oil (I was talked out of 2 extra shots by the lovely barista who already feared for my health given my hyperactive demeanor) and jaunted home, talking out loud the whole way (I marveled at the notion of a junkyard rooster).  Having not had enough coffee yet, I accepted Melissa's offer to pick me up another.  Free coffee?  Hugh Betcha!  So she fed me fulla another and so started my morning with the li'l muppets.  Now see, they have a tendency to trump me in off-the-wall antics as I am a grown man and they are wound up sugar frosted hedgefoxes.  But not today, Gladys.  No sir.  I bulldozed their entire little world from start to finish.  I got right in their faces, danced, mimed, slapped my belly, played games with my voice, renamed them all, pretended to disappear, swung them by the wrists...more or less maintained no control over what was happening with my body.  It was a ridiculous display of losing your head on coffee, but the children-though perplexed-seemed pleased with their drugged up 선생님.  The crash was a little brutal, though...

I have said many many times that I am never _______ again.  Smoking, drinking, drinking coffee, partaking in the recreational use of any variety of intoxicans and intoxican'ts, tossing off first thing in the morning, eating a calorie, saying something, saying something else, etc.  But none of these have held true.  But I don't want them to.  I don't want a life of restrictions and limitations.  What I should investigate is a life of moderation.  Some self-control without denial.  Some will-power.  Small battles, Lucaseu.  Small battles.

Facebook account gets deleted this weekend.  My ol' chap Chris made the plunge this morning, and I thought that was a pretty smart train to hop.  I spend an embarrassing amount of time cruisin' The Book and I have nothing to show for it.  Sure, now some people know I like Mike Patton  Wahoo.  If you love me, you'll find me.  And if you don't, I don't want you sniffin' around my shotgun shack anywho.

This morning I was informed I don't have to work tomorrow.  With the caffeine, my heart literally exploded into a catastrophic mess, painting the entire West wall of Little Fox Learning Center in my blood and veins, emotionally scarring the children for years to come.  I decided not to go out though.  'Cause I got my new guitar.  And it's amazing.  And I named her Yu Na.  And she's lovely.

Okay, time to go give her some love.  I leave you now with pictures.

Be eggcellent to each other.

-LS^2

Yu Na.

Some of my best mates:

Jonno loves his peace and his homemade bread.

James has been here for 5 years and will drink if you ask him to.

Jürgen is infatuated with lenses and says "Tasty Treats."

Chris is never getting his jean jacket back. 

Be there.  It's gonna be SWEET.

You luck Ju Hee up.

My birthday is in 8 months,

but try tellin' Soo Hyun that.