The Riot Before came out with “fist buried in pockets” i fell in love with the record, it became the only cd i listened to in my car, every drive, every time i listened. there some songs and some lyrics i wish i wrote. listen to an acoustic version of one of the songs right here the riot before

posted by v.

It’s an interesting world out there where people cut strangers into ribbons and can rationalize the most scathing things away with a quick key stroke and then shut the world down in the push of a button. i am finding myself intrigued with reviews of records lately, reading them – writing them, but also the time and place they come in and go up on various message boards and websites. reviews of records three months before the release date, sometimes glowing, sometimes shredding every part of the record and dismissing it as a waste of time/money/breathe.
the pen is mightier than the sword, or atleast the keyboard is mightier these days.

posted by v.

I thought to myself a few months ago to give this page a rest, preferring to write in 140 characters or less over at Twitter.com/pickyourpoisons – it seemed easier to digest, put my writing on auto pliot, talk about the day and no heavy messages, no drawn out point to make.
It’s time to dust this off, right? Right.

posted by v.

He said “take your motherfucking hands out of your pockets and give me all your money” I laughed out loud. Leisurely at first then nervously after he motioned to the gun barrel peeking out of his track jacket. My would be thief was on a 10 speed bicycle that was equal parts peeling paint and piece of shit. The combination of polyester shorts and matching track jacket made that zipping noise when he peddled up to me at first, it made me flash back to grade school where I wore a brand new pair of corduroy pants and made that embarrassingly loud zipping sound all day long, consciencely trying not to walk down silent hallways or during a pop quiz so not to paint a target on me for hurled insults and group joke grenades. When I snapped back to the reality of the situation on the abandoned Mesa, Arizona street there was loud yelp ” turn your pockets inside out, let me see whatcha got..”

Sweat beading on my upper lip, poker face long gone, now replaced by a wash-ey pale complexion, and shakey fingers that dipped quickly into my pocket to pull all the money I had out. Mind you the exact total for all the money i had was – One dollar and eighty cents. Enough for the two tacos that I was en route to getting, handing over the money in scattered change: pennies, nickles, dimes and a few quarters. Another yelp “..You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, where’s your wallet? ”

I offer up my excuse but glassed over eyes now mixed with a grimace across his face that melted from cheek to cheek “..I should shoot your ass right now for wasting my time..”, as he spins the gears on the ten speed almost sounding like slot machine, three crackheads wild and I’ll get shot in the face for wanting half ass fast food tacos.

Mind you all I could smell the restaurant the whole time. Food was cooking, the billowing grease smoke pouring out into the dry air. my stomach was in a knot but all I could think of was the food that i was being robbed of. Neon welcome signs just out of reach, the rush of cars driving by a block over, the sound of my change clinking as the thief was riding off, the spin of the gears of the bike just like a slot machine.

posted by v.

In a moment,I decided to leave, quietly slipping from hospital to house to car to airport to airplane. Strange situations and even stranger connections dot my life so much that you could easily make a connect the dots picture out of them. Each numbered in order making one large picture of that same dumb face I always make no matter what kind of occasion it is. Happy, sad, excited, surprised it is always that same face. So in the wake of my grandfathers death I left the side of his hospital bed and disappeared. Speaking briefly to my mother, motioning to my brother, engulfed in bright lights, hearing calls and beeps and nurses and condolences I was in a tidal wave. Being swept from sea to bottom, the pulse of the hospital racing, filling me to the point of overload, I needed to swim to safety to go up for air. Where are you captain when I need you? Sailors always knew that the captain was going down with the ship and that they’d have to go the seas alone and survive. Mother nature pushing them out of the nest to see if they could fly or fall.
When I walked in to the hospital room it was dimmed, hurried and rasped breathing fought to stay a beat off from the machine helping him breath, there were faces of family but I focused on his breathing. Out of rhythm and shallow, it made me wild listening to the soundtrack of a man being kept alive by a machine. I talked out loud, even though he was unresponsive I knew he knew I was there, he could hear me. We had that connection one that transcended simple bloodline and DNA code. Something like a connection of old souls I think.
A Long beep – two short beeps, the crack and pop of lungs filling up, hushed prayers, the squeak of shoes on the floor, all the sounds of a family tree falling down.

posted by v.

There’s a point sometimes in the middle of what would be an otherwise normal day when i wonder where things are headed, not in the pointless questions in life kind of way as in ” ..what kind of Mexican food do I want and should I get garlic since I have a meeting later” but more like “How fuck did I end up here and where in the hell am I going..”
Occasionally I sit around and ask myself the heavier questions in my life, mind you this kind of behavior happens even though I’m not blowing smoke rings after two bong loads of Gainesville’s finest and the questions happen without any help from mr jim beam and his friends. I ask myself the tough questions like “…maybe I should never have sold the label..” or “…. maybe I should travel and take pictures of third world countries and let this brain tumor shrink instead of pushing myself harder each year..” It’s cathartic to ask the hard questions, it forces you to snap out of the sleep walk, forces you to think it through.

“hello? Is there anybody in there?..”

I like sharpening the edge of the sword, I like loading the gun, I like using the megaphone to wake and shake the insides of me.

Every mistake I’ve made I think through after the fact, to see how I made that mistake. You live and you learn right?
Maybe so or maybe we are doomed to live in the circle, the one that keeps the cycle going like a tire rolling down a 80 year long hill. My father was haunted by his past, his mistakes, his cycle. He let it get the best of him, he never learned but he always questioned, I question but I take my internal answers and listen to them. I guess that is the biggest issue that divides us. Everyone asks the questions but only some of us listen to the answers.

Here’s the run down of my world :

- i released 3 new vinyl figures with WUNDERLAND WAR and there will be another 2 octopus variations coming soon. After that i’ll be doing a 36 inch and 24 inch extremely limited figures. check wunderlandwar.com

- Paper and Plastick has been busy: New records from THE FOUNDATION and FAREWELL CONTINENTAL are right around the corner. Buddy LESSTHANJAKE’s side project COFFEE PROJECT just had the 10 inch and digital tracks come out too. go take a listen and also download the free sampler there too.
paperandplastick.com

- my children’s book “sometimes robots like being robots” will begin a pre-order soon with limited hand numbered print to go along with it.

- I am updating twitter.com/pickyourpoisons alot when i’m out and about. come join in the ramble

- i am doing a tour journal for the next 6 months over at absolute punk go take a look. here-
http://www.absolutepunk.net/journal.php?do=showjournal&j=16322

- i’m going to be doing a scavenger hunt while out on tour in the US, dropping packages off of limited prints, usb’s filled with music, and vinyl records. more specifics coming soon on this.

posted by v.

I’ve tried to hold back the dark but it’s the black that takes my arms, slowly squeeze, faintly breath. Shh.
Hand to god this is going to hurt alot but the best things always do.

posted by v.

So officially my sleep schedule is all over the place, some days sleeping by 11 pm some days sleeping by 6 am. Welcome to the double edged sword of sleep is overated and sleep is my best friend.
I’ve been laughing these days because my political friends in political bands are stumped at what to write about now that Bush is gone, I love how they leave an escape route for themselves going from Obama cheerleader to Obama skeptic just in case the whole thing goes pear shaped in a year, cheer up guys, I say, there’s wars all over the world and injustice in every corner your music career still has things to talk about. I mean even Bruce Springsteen had “pink Cadillac” when the economy was good.

posted by v.

We are all trashcans, loaded with all the discarded bits of emotions, jettisoned ideas, fragmented comments said underbreath, crossed wires, and misunderstood signals. we fill it up ourselves at times with old memories, chips on our shoulders, weight that we dump into ourselves. We are trashcans filled.
I’m sitting in bed right now, tired, but more getting over sickness then actually tired, my mind races, my chest tightens, tight breath meets a white knuckle revival. Words and music float in and out of me, sounds dull my attention span, it prevents me from obsessing over any one thing. Words and music, words and music. I mentally run down the following days check list between hearing about C.I.A. Covert weapons and hearing myself talk.
I take out my pen and put the tip to a half filled notebook, I scribble down a rhyme its may or may not ever go beyond that.
I fill up the trashcan, then empy it onto pages, I wonder if I help fill or empty other trashcans.
I remember thursday is trash day and I need to bring the can to the street.

posted by v.

I’ve been waiting for one thing to be done, so 10 more things can be done. Ever get that feeling that you’re waiting on that one thing? I’ve also been loving the fact l’ve been finding some new music lately in the midst of all this waiting, music that is just as eclectic as what’s in my head and I love that.

I am looking for someone that is quick but professional to make banner advertisements and edit photos, This would be directly working with me on Paper and Plastick, any takers out there? Email me: paperandplastick@gmail.com

posted by v.