Welcome to Alec's website beer factory where you can have everything you want. And anything you could think of will be on there. For example, if you thought of something you wanted, it can be on here.
Welcome to Alec's website beer factory where you can have everything you want. And anything you could think of will be on there. For example, if you thought of something you wanted, it can be on here.
Cool shirt mockup; by me; under Miles creative direction
Separately or together they found it. Ineluctably or uncontrollably. Woven braided left over middle and the middle becomes the left and so on. Then right over middle and so on. You would have to take it apart step by step. You would have to go over what they did the first time in excruciating detail. And would you. And would it be nothing else but exactly the same thing. If you stomped it into the dirt would it grow mushrooms if it was dark enough.
You can make things into toys if you play with them. You can laugh. You could decide where something ends if you want to. It ends here you say. And you can laugh or cry on command. You can talk to lizards and bugs. And they will safeguard your things in the dirt. They told you so.
A waterlogged ear that amplifies your own voice to you. Like an earpiece, but you're on the other end too. A feedback loop. "I-" "I-" "Sorry what-" "Sorry what-" "Oh haha you go f-". This is my fate. A conspiratiorial tone. The perfect curse for a chatty Cathy. Stop yammering Alec, this is what people tell me. I whisper twin secrets to myself and giggle. You and me against the world.
The cure is flonase and sudafed, says the clinician. To open up the wet sluices of my head, eustacian tubes, sinuses. Wet slime holes. Congested with allergy and infection.
Now I have again reached a state of restlessness that cannot be addressed by what is already in my life. In need of new situations. Or perhaps not a need but a point of disorder. I practice contentment. To some success. But periodically my gut says it is time to move. Not literal this time; I have come to love my home in the city. I was born with high blood pressure, tense. Sit and wait, sit and wait, then spring. Jump away, leap.
Well I half joked with myself about my unemployment's causing a psychic liberation, a waking up and opening up of my life. I half joked about it and I got that feeling one gets, or I get, from a motivational speech. The immediate sensation of motivation to be followed by a subsequent amnesia. I felt a slight hope. I felt a big hope simultaneous with the expectation of its disappointment. I thought this might open my life up a little. I thought probably it will be mostly the same. I hoped but didn't believe. But so far, and I don't wanna jinx it, and it's still the weekend. So far I feel, and I don't wanna jinx it. My vice is fast forwarding through time, much like Adam Sandler in Click. Today I felt that slip away a little. Like I just didn't feel like it. I went to the book store and I got excited about books.
I have been revisiting the Static-X album Wisconsin Death Trip the past couple days. A very good album in my opinion. Banging nu-metal tracks, pulsing thrash guitar, quickfire growling rap-singing hooks. It has these awesome (and to me, unexpected) industrial and computer sounds that'll sometimes show up like 2/3 of the way through a song or not at all. And there's very cool vocal effects that sound really good layered over other vocals. I'd say it's like maybe a fuzz combined with an echo if I had to put two words to it. It makes the screams really shred. Cool use of samples as well.
the late Wayne Static
Yea yea yea whatever!
I stubbed my toe and said "ouchie" out loud.
Well what happened I went and I saw Darjeeling Limited. It was good. aaand I had a phone call with a friend what else. Played some guitar. Played some of that Zelda game. Play play play.
This is blog #1
