sorry i haven't been posting much lately. been thinking about the future alot and as a result i've been in kind of a not-feeling-too-communicative mode. i like thinking about the future when the subject is flying motorcycles and me having magically acquired ridiculous wealth so i can do what i want and own several of said flying motorcycles. the future in regards to what i'm going to be doing for a living and where i'm going to be storing all my stuff and showering in the very near future is scary scary scary ass shit so i'm a little withdrawn.
now as far as why little xerxes7 hasn't been posting- suffice it to say that between the balls of crumpled up paper littering the kitchen and the number of "pksh! pksh! pksh!" sounds that i've been hearing, he's probably working on something that will make his friends at the rec center envious. now if we could just find a way to cure the kid's insomnia...
anyway, on with the meat of the post. in a previous post i took a little time to describe an event of little or no relevance to anyone outside of me and since i figure that's what 79% of e/n is all about anyway, i'm going to do it again. but this time it's a dream i had last night.
okay, basically the point i start remembering this dream at leaves me with the knowledge that i'm in a band. we're all set up to play a show in a really small place. for those of you in the mighty n.o., kinda like jimmy's, but maybe half the size. so we're all ready and shit but we notice nobody's there. no problem, we're a little rock band, so we little rock out. somewhere in the process of me rocking the bass action, i notice the amp end of my line is lying a few feet away from me, not plugged in. i stop playing and go to plug myself back in when the powers that be cue up the weird shift in reality that makes dreams so goddamned magical.
i'm heading towards where my amp should be and i don't see my amp. instead i see a sort of hallway through the backstage that has all of our signal lines going through it so i follow it, figuring that must be where i'm supposed to plug my shit in as well. i come out of the other end of the hall and find i'm on another stage where i find a couch with our leading stars for the night sitting on it.
and 
for those of you wondering, these people are timothy hutton and julia stiles. why they were playing characters in my dream is beyond me. like i said, goddamned magical dreams- right?
so anyway, a timothy hutton in his early 20's is sitting on this couch with julia stiles and they're looking at me expectantly. i just try to ignore them and start looking for someplace to plug in when julia adopts this bitchy tone and asks what the hell i'm doing. i try explaining that i need to plug my bass back in and she says something about how my bad-ass band isn't all that professional if we can't even keep our shit connected and that we generally need to suck less anyway because people aren't being impressed. so i look out off stage and see there's people- artsy-fartsy-bisexual-crowd "cool" people- sitting around in chairs and leaning against walls and i look back at the stage and see these two clowns and i realize my cool band isn't the entertainment here. THEY are. somehow my band is just kind of something for them to base their act on. but i don't get what their act would be. they're looking pretty settled on that couch so they're not dancing and this isn't really looking like an orgy scene.
that's when timothy opens his mouth and it all settles in. he starts talking and people get really damned attentive. and what he's talking is the most pretentious jim-morrison-from-art-fag-hell high school shit you've ever heard. and the crowd's totally into it. julia tells him that was really great and special then gives me a shitty look and tells me i'd better plug in and get to playing. no fucking way i'm doing my shit solo when the rest of the band is on the other stage and besides i don't know who i'm supposed to play to- the couchtards or the audience twerps. so then timothy hutton pops out some shit like "who wants to hear my latest poem?" and i roll my eyes and figure i should do something about my own situation. he starts babbling and i decide that the best way i can accompany his ass talk is to put both hands to my mouth and make fart sounds because they're about as deep and beautiful as his drivel. then he shuts up and looks at me all surprised and she starts to lay in with this whining ragstream about how i'm too ignorant to appreciate the genius i'm in the presence of and then i get so fucking outraged at the situation that i wake up.
which is probably about the point that you're at right now. next time i'll find some more pictures.
