you were right about stars. each one is a setting sun.
okay. honestly, i'm gonna start posting more often. it's just i've been quite busy these last few days. so enough with the tired excuses and on with the show. i spent an amazing day/night that you can only experence in new york city this thursday with a new "friend". now only if everyday could be like that. friday was a drag. the weather was fine, but the atmosphere was lacking. this saturday, i went to see wilco at union college with my friend adalena. the band was absolutely fantastic and the setting couldn't have been better. a protestant chapel in the middle of a lovely campus. just the band and three hundred (give or take a couple dozen) excited fans. and yes, they rocked the chapel hard. at one point, jeff tweedy (lead singer of wilco) sang the word "fuck" and i blushed. wow! church is never like this for us catholics. must start serious thoughts on conversion. i would like to give a massive thanks to adalena for endowing me with one of the hardest tickets to come by (up there with one of willy wonka's) and making a couple of kick ass indie rock cds for the ride to and fro. thanks also should go to joe and glen for......ummmm sleeping the whole way home. joe and i arrived back in college point around six in the morning. at which point i was mouthing inane pleas for sleep and joe had just about enough of my driving for the next few years. sunday was a day filled with idle sleep and reading. the kind of day my mind and body were designed for. and now that i read back on all of this, i realize that i had plenty of time to post. okay, ya got me. i'm lazy.
ahhhhhhhh kieran. even though you've shot my kidney with a paint ball gun (repeatedly) and shattered my orbital bone, you have the right idea. do jack shit and get the gov't to pay for it. sweet jesus! where do i sign up?.......the second i join the armed forces, i suggest that every god fearing american move to canada. but don't worry, i'm fairly positive i'ld fail every required test.
much thanks to everyone that has commented. please keep using it, it helps validate my life. also i would like to point out the links on the side. they all belong to good people, so check them out. if you have one you would like me to put up, just send me a note.
I had a very interesting dream that i would like to share with the class. it started off with a terrible thunderstorm over shea stadium. not the big blue ashtray that i've grown to both love and loathe. the shea in my head was tremendious with iron workings and polished wood around the various sections. in center field, instead of the apple in the top hat and scoreboard, was a large concert stage. one that was most likely ripped from my memory of a broadway show and deposited in flushing, queens. the weather was horrible. rain pouring down on a packed house, yet the game went on and so did the show. playing on this giant floor were four old english fellows. at first i had no idea who they were till i saw the guitarist's familar windmill moves. holy shit! The Who were rocking the park and they don't give a fuck about the weather. a stage hand pleaded with roger daltrey to come off, but he just shook his head and started up another song that i couldn't recognize. through out this whole dream, The Who played songs i couldn't place, but i knew were there's. i'm not a big Who fan, i don't own a single one of their albums, but i've listened to the radio enough to know their greatest hits. they weren't playing any of those tonight.
many of my dreams have a film quality to them in respect to the look, especially with my field of view during the dreams. there is usually a lot of panning and tracking. if i was a director i would spend all my time in a cherry picker because my dreams love the crane shot. after i crane over the stadium and see the band, i go into the back stage area where i see my ex-girlfriend glenda. now this should be a shock for me, considering she's a fan of that other ball team in town, but in the dream she seemed as at home as ray knight in a street brawl. so both of us are backstage at a Who show and a met game, yet we go to the posh resturant in my imaginary shea. this bistro was packed with celebraties for some odd reason. very random ones. as we walked in, i notice a bald guy and red head eating at the big table in the far corner. two people taking up a table which could sit a dozen easy. looking closer, we realized that it was dennis franz and david caruso from nypd blue. while i thought this was kinda cool, glen made a biting comment about curaso's acting skills that made me laugh. we walked past these two, who haven't noticed us at all. they were both inhaling large pasta dishes. at the bar were a group of drunken sports illustrated models who ignore us as well. it seemed that everyone in the place were incrediblely absorbed with their food and drinks and that made both of us very hungry. before i could find a waiter, i noticed one of my favoriet actors, Kevin Corrigan. i went up to him to say hi and tell him how much i've enjoyed his flicks, especially "kicked in the head". the convo was going well till i asked him for the score of the game, then he got very curt with me and we decided to leave the resturant.
so a rather odd dream so far right? well i gets weirder of course. some how we end up lost in the inners of shea. not the shea of my youth with it's flooded bathrooms and leaking pipes. this shea looks like a cruise ship. after wandering for many hours, we gave up, sat on the floor and bullshited about my friend joe d. a group of old women walked past us and got into a loud argument over who was better. The Who or Derek and the Dominos. we must have missed clapton. i got up to ask the ladies directions to the outside world, when who did i see? rey ordonez. he was running to the locker room and we followed. he didn't take any noticed to my shouts of "yo! rey. your the man!!" and shut the clubhouse door behind him. we tried the last door which opened into the bare room filled with old timer players in flannel uniforms smoking corn cob pipes. even in my sleeping state, i realized that something was quite wrong there. so we headed in the opposite direction, down a flight of stairs to the gift shop. before i could ask the red neck security guard directions, glen was running out the door with a handful of stuffed animals. i followed double quick! and we ran right onto the field, during which we go though a time warp of some sort because the field we entered into was the one i remember when i was eight years old. jumping on my couch and screaming "the mook, the mook, the mook is on fire! we don't need no water. let the motherfucker burn!". not having a clue to the meaning of those words. being completly sweep up in the world series. We exited the tunnel as all the 86 mets are piling on top of each other. the mets just won the world series and i'm there!! i look at glen, she looks crushed. sorry yank fan. your team sucks this decade.
i wake up a little later. the memories of the crowd still in my noggin. i kept trying to force myself back to sleep. i wanted to be part of the victory celebration. i wanted to see roger clemens crying in boston's dug out. but to no avail. i was awake. i am awake. it's 2002. i'm 23, not 8. and shea is back to being a big blue ashtray.
so what meaning does that dream have? i have no idea. but it made me feel good. gave me a gee golly feeling this morning. i don't wanna think about the reasons for the who being there. does this make me a clasic rock fan or something? god noooo!
Yessss! all seems right in the mighty kingdom of kev's web log. welcome to Typedslowly. as a couple of you savy indie rock fans have pointed up, this site is named after one of my favorite pavement songs. for those unlikely enough to have never heard pavement, they were an acclaimed "indie" band that broke up a couple years ago. go enter their name in your kazza and enjoy. if i was being completely honest, this site would be called horridspeller or drunkenmess, but that just doesn't flow as well.
it's taken me over twenty three years to come to grips with the fact that i'm a total geek, but i've finally excepted my path in life. now true geekdom comes in many shapes and sizes (watch beat the geeks if you doubt me). for me music and films are my downfall. so test me if you want. you'll go down.
top of the afternoon. (to which you reply, and the rest of the day to you.) it's a rather dreary monday, so i decided to leave bed around noon. no need to get up any sooner. as i like to say, everyday is monday to the unemployed.so many choices of what to do today. see a flick, smoke crack, fatten up my tapeworm. ahhhhhh all good picks. well i'm off for quality time with my pops.
well first off, let me thank glenda for setting up this whole thing for me. glen, you rock!! check out her site. it's a wee bit more impressive than this one.
i'm completely new to blogs, so this should be fun. so where should we start? i wanna wish my friends marco and george happy birthdays. marco turned twenty one today. i was unable to get him tanked because he's come down with a nasty plague thing. get better kid and i'll bring ya out for a couple. i've known the guy since he was three and i was five. i'm getting old!! this will probably be a major topic in these blogs..........as for george (who i've known since freshman year at st. francis prep), it was his 24th. georgie had a little get together with some bbq and pay per view wrestling going on. lots of fun. much thanks for the hospitality. sorry i was unable to stop jon. v. from eating part of your cake early.
anyone who is reading this should know me, but if not. i have red hair and glasses. i live in queens, new york and at the present time, i'm unemployed. i should be downtrodden about that, but i could honestly care less. not workin' is rad! sun tan lotion is an important part of my life now, because i got a horrid burn last week. nuff said about that stuff.
now what is the purpose behind this log? i have not a clue. for now it will be a depot for my random and mostly illogical thoughts. if you have any thoughts, please share.
typedslowly 
Monday, April 29, 2002