I added an "Orphan" page a few weeks ago and I've been happily picking up my little forgotten ditties and have placed them in there. It's nice to let them out of the Miscellaneous Song Dungeon that have been mired in my deep dark dank tarn of a computer. One of the songs "Into My Heart", while the title sounds soft and cuddly, is rather cold and bristly...even sounding like Cady Truckee...a.k.a me. This has been my difficult quandry. Do I keep Cady Truckee and Christopher separate? Hell no. Fuck no. I have to merge my split self and this is the start of it. I can sing about love and cunts. Accepting this about myself has been slow and arduous...but I'm mending the pyschotic break into a shiny prism of dirty blue glass.
The Black Forest
Random blaghness...
Release...Recoil...Reload...
Whew! Another album released. It was quite a year in the making. It's always so joyful and terrifying at the same time. Yay it's finished! Of fuck...it's finished. I feel them with equal vigor and trepidation. I won't go into the making of the album, as I've already done so in an earlier blog post. I'm just letting my conjure out of the bottle and letting it do its thing, whatever it may be...whilst I look on like a child who just set his plastic army men on fire with lighter fluid...
Frank Lee Drennen Workin' It Hard To Make Me Look Cool...
Boy is he's working' it. He built an apartment complex just to do my album artwork and photos for me.
It's amazing to think how much a few burritos and some sparse grocery items from Trader Joes will go to get a starving artist to do everything he's done for me. Frank Lee Drennen is fucking rad and I'm proud to call him friend.
Shhhh!!!! Don't tell anyone about this. Like Humphrey the Hummingbird, he's shy too.
Dead Rock West is his band and they just released their new album Bright Morning Stars. Check it out.
Redemption for a Reckoning...
This afternoon I was in my back yard with my friend Chris Prescott and I saw a little ruby-throated hummingbird on the ground, sprawled out. At first I thought it was dead, then I saw the super-fast breaths it was taking to match its heart. Its alive! Was its wing broken? Sick? Hmmm...no...I think it fell out of their nest and couldn't quite fly yet. Gently cupping it up in my hand, and just letting his head (I say he because I felt it was a he.) pop out, he opened his beak wanting to be fed. Uh-oh. Kids. A little nest was made for Humphrey. Yes...Humphrey the Hummingbird. I quickly tippy-tapped on my phone for the animal hospital, called them and they said to bring him in and the Animal Wildlife people would come and pick him up and take care of him. Awesome!
Driving to the animal hospital I was sent back in time to when I was 12 years old when I had my first BB gun. The very first and last thing I ever shot with it was a little ruby-breasted hummingbird. It was the most terrible thing I had ever felt at that time. I have always regretted that day and have never forgot that bird. Flashing back to now, sitting in the passenger seat was little Humphrey...I looked in his eyes. I was gonna save him... We made it to the hospital, they immediately took him and fed him. Little hummingbirds need to be fed every 20 minutes apparently. Whew! I filled out some paper work, so they could bring him back to my yard when he was healthy and old enough. I had 14 dollars in my pocket and donated it the hospital. I told Humphrey goodbye and I'll see him in time and he can come back to live in my New Zealand tea tree when he's ready.
Driving home I hoped for a little redemption/atonement, maybe not complete, but perhaps some.
p.s. I did not take a photo of Humphrey because he was naked and he was embarrassed by the really big balls he possessed, and he didn't want to have to deal with explaining it to his friends on Facebook/Twitter, much less those dreaded Google searches.
Steve Poltz the Somalian Padre Pirate
If you might of noticed, or not perhaps...Steve Poltz has hacked into my website so he can post all of his Padre Propaganda and whimsicle lunacies like a crazed Somalian Pirate. Except, he doesn't want any ransom, he just wants to (In a bad rapper accent) "do what he do". Well Steve...you go ahead and do what you do...but I will find you...and when I do...I'll chop off your feet so you can't leave just like you did to me 2 years ago, even though my feet grew back and I'm fine now...that's not the point...errr...ummm..."No one makes me bleed my own blood!"