Blog 'em Up

Yes, yes, and who doesn't enjoy a good blog 'em up, eh?!

How've ya been?  Eatin' right?  Gettin' your proper amounts of sleep and sunshine?  Makin' sure you talk to your parents and/or illegitimate children every 10 days?  If you answered Yes to any of these questions, then I ask you: you think you're better than me?!

Last Friday was Buddha's birthday, so I had a drive 'em up to a temple that's only open once a year for this glorious occasion.  The drive was quaint and early, the shuttle bus was decorated with all sorts of loveliness and the walk up to the gate was serene.  Unfortunately, the combination of my slight hunger, my mild fatigue and my impatience with certain aspects of my surroundings put me in a sour mood.  I tried to wear a happy face-or, if not a "happy face," a "No, no, I'm not irrationally pissed" face.  I think I did okay, but I certainly wasn't honoring the beauty of the day as much as I could have.  I did see beautiful waterfalls and gorgeous woods-I haven't forgotten about that.  I spent a moment inside the temple apologizing to Buddha for my temperament and asking if he by chance was able to help me flush it out lickety split so I wasn't such a wet rag.  He did no such thing, instead leaving me to my own devices.  I hold no grudges against him.  I did not stay for the ritual lunch of 비빔밥 (bipimbap: rice and veggies all orgied together), but instead we left a little early and ate  순대 (soondae: blood sausage and intestines).  Not very Buddhist of us, eh?  Well, we aint Buddhist, is we?

Then Sunday I went to Seoul for a Sigur Rós show.  I don't know much about them except that Jeremy Gladen did a movement piece to one of their songs about 5 years ago that I quite enjoyed.  Only time in Astroglyde history a piece went with no words, doncha know.  I sat with a gal I met 3 months ago and was pleasantly pleased that we still got along.  She talked in a devil voice more often than most people and gave me a bottle of wine.  Is there any quicker way to my heart?  Well, maybe if you give me a skirt as a parting gift...which she did.  Huzzah!

So the Insanity workout just never yields the results I'm looking for.  But it's not Shaun T's fault, it's mine.  He has a very specific program set up, and like they told us in sales school: "If you follow our instructions 100%, you'll get back 100%.  But if you only follow 90%, don't expect to get 90% back."  Okay, they actually never said that, but the sentiment was beat into our heads: Total compliance or you're on your own.  I don't follow the nutrition guide, I skip a Saturday here and there (and there and there)...my bad.  And I frequently engage in a drink 'em up.  There's the rub right there, man.  There it is right there.

Should I stay or should I go?  Oooh, so many life questions on the horizon.  Which to choose?  What to do?  Aye aye aye, Sailor.

Sometimes I think "Man, it'd be dope to never have to work and have all the money I need."  But you know what?  I'm not sure what I'd do with all that time and money.  Not saying I wouldn't figure it out, I'm just sayin' it'd take some careful consideration.  A long think 'em up.

I write a lot of fiction.  First person sorta stuff.

Koreans won't hesitate to call you fat if they think you are.

Hearing Marco's music makes me miss him terribly.  I'd like to get his ass into rehab.

I know I've said this before, but I'll say it again: if any of you have cool clothes you wanna send me, you're welcome to.  I won't be upset.  I'll even thank you.  In song.  Or a GIF if that's your thing.

Journal more.

Internet less.

Have a laugh 'em up, often and openly.

With that, I leave you to your motivations and cares.

Hug 'em up,
-LS^2

Jonno and I lookin' damn good.

This girl plays at every open mic we do.

I met Robert Downey Jr.

The best picture I got of Sigur Rós.

I was looking up "lightening damage" pictures.

Definitely been listening to a

lot of OFWGKTADGAF.

Candida

This is a video of Candida singing a song in New Orleans.  Candida was the first girl I met when I visited Iowa City to take my placement tests before college.  She and I were the only ones to place into an advanced Spanish program.  She also lived in Korea.  She binds books.  She seems hip.

Take 'er Easy, Y'all.
It's Friday.

-LS^2

Candida.

Time For You, Time For Free

Yo.
So we're doin' these Open Mic Nights, right?  And we're lookin' to get as many people as involved as possible.  But some people might be scared, nervous or otherwise uninterested in standing at the amp and causin' a happening.  But that don't mean you can't get in the fracas...

You have a poem you want songed?  A song you want poemed?  A story you want read?  An idea you want manifested with the help of Count Salazar?  Hit me up.  If you're local, maybe we can perform it together.  Or, if you'd rather, we can just craft it together and you can leave the performing up to me.  Or however you'd like to do it.  If you're not local (and reading this from America or space), I'll try and record it for you.  The name of the game is Community.  So if there's something you'd like to share and see shared, get at me.  If nothing else, it'll be a good way to get some free wine out of me.

And, as always, you're encouraged to add anything of your own completely on your own that you'd like, whether it be performance, visual, digital files or misguided eating contests.

Comment below.
Or at LucasBSalazar (at) GMail (dot) Com

May you walk in the light of the good graces you create.

-LS^2

"Satan!"

Paramount Explodes in Section 8 Housing District: Authorities Alerted but Cannot Be Bothered!

I always think about updating this but never have anything to share on which I feel like spending any time.

I'm sweaty as hell 'cause I'm back on the Insanity.  Shaun T is my master and Marlene is my muse.

There is another Open Mic Night this Saturday at Café Maybe.  Would you like to come?  I will be playing some songs and reading a short story.  Hopefully other people bring something to show, because I'm weary (but willing) to pull the trigger on my Eating Contest for One That Nobody Wants to See idea.  Unless Aunup's game.  Then he'll eat with me.  I just fear it will be beneath him.  But me?  Nothing's beneath me.  Nothing.

Are you aware by chance of how unbelievably beautiful Goldie Hawn was as a young woman?  She was funny, charming, gorgeous and hip.  And psychedelic.  I like all those things.  Dare I say that all falls into my "type."  I don't think I really have a "type," but if I did in early '72, Goldie would be the epitome of it.  Of course, I'd be negative 9 years old, so she probably wouldn't go for me.  But that's before she met Kurt Russell, so who knows?

The weather outside is beautiful.  It's bloomin' and warm and people are wearin' shorts and t-shirts and skippin' and ploppin' and and and yup yup.  I love it.  Reminds me of a place I used to live.  Somewhere warm...somewhere...East.  West?  Good God, I'm losing my bearings!  Ahh!

A. Dola Baroni is talented, beautiful and dope.

My water heater's running, so I'd better go catch it.  Hardy har har.

ILLS

-LS^2

Maybe this is my type.

Certainly my nemesis.

Potentially my Soulmate...

Free toast, nucka.

"...and when they fell, he simply

piled them up again." (Lavusacas, 4:08)

Dr. J's popularity never diminished, it

just moved SouthEast Asia.

These lovely women sold me a beer and

gave me a chocolate.  Then we talked at

each other.  They did not, however,

let me play their guitar.

See?

(click my picture and watch me dance)

I dare you to cuter.

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.