Monday, October 26, 2009
Unsummary.
Iced tea and a cigarette. Geocities comes to an end, and with it the internet as so many of us knew it. The ego as time bomb. New YT Cracker release awaiting extraction from a .zip file. A day of rain. That cold-weather smell, not because it's that cold but because it's just cool enough for an extra layer. Abyssal power struggles. Locks in need of powdered graphite. Too many appliances. Pumpkins awaiting faces. Move along.
Friday, October 16, 2009
It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood!
(tl;dr version: nice weather and skateboarding rule)
It's been a weird year for Houston, weather-wise. June was brutally hot. July was, to nobody's surprise, also hot. August was a little more mellow, but only in comparison to what it usually is. September sucked: the temperatures didn't seem to drop, and the humidity was awful. October, when most of us would agree that H-Town starts catching up with the seasonal rotation thing, has been a little more forgiving, though it's still been humid as shit. Today, however, Mother Nature has dropped a boon on my fair city in the form of mid-70s temperatures, clear skies, and steady breezes. This, my friends, is the way things should be. Like I told a buddy at the skatepark earlier today, I understand why people are willing to shell out the fat cash to live in SoCal, where days like this are routine.
Even better, it's my Saturday. I had a rad green smoothie for breakfast, then went to the skatepark to make the most of the weather and drop off some Tracker Fastracks for a buddy looking to set up a cruiser. I saw, for the first time in months, one of the guys who was a stalwart of the 8 AM scene when Jamail still opened that early and when I didn't work there. Threw down some increasingly solid feeble grinds on the curbs outside the park, and started plotting my conquest of a particular quarterpipe via backside rock n' rolls. Stopped at Half Price Books and walked out with a couple promising books, one of which is by Stephen Batchelor, who I can't recommend enough if you want a clear, meaningful, and modern approach to Buddhism. Came home, drank some Koenig Ludwig weissbier- 'cause it's that kind of day, dudes- and jammed some MC Frontalot and 3 Inches of Blood. Later, I'll probably go lay waste to some neighborhood curbs and/or do some/all of the following: take a nap, read, visit my brother, smoke cigarettes, go back to the skatepark, and maybe some things I haven't even thought about yet. Days like this are why we're put on earth.
Shout-outs to Aaron Estrada, War Master, Santa Monica Airlines, D, Daniel, Richard, tahini, cheap lighters, and West Alabama Street.
Impervious to fire, impervious to steel,
D.A.S.
It's been a weird year for Houston, weather-wise. June was brutally hot. July was, to nobody's surprise, also hot. August was a little more mellow, but only in comparison to what it usually is. September sucked: the temperatures didn't seem to drop, and the humidity was awful. October, when most of us would agree that H-Town starts catching up with the seasonal rotation thing, has been a little more forgiving, though it's still been humid as shit. Today, however, Mother Nature has dropped a boon on my fair city in the form of mid-70s temperatures, clear skies, and steady breezes. This, my friends, is the way things should be. Like I told a buddy at the skatepark earlier today, I understand why people are willing to shell out the fat cash to live in SoCal, where days like this are routine.
Even better, it's my Saturday. I had a rad green smoothie for breakfast, then went to the skatepark to make the most of the weather and drop off some Tracker Fastracks for a buddy looking to set up a cruiser. I saw, for the first time in months, one of the guys who was a stalwart of the 8 AM scene when Jamail still opened that early and when I didn't work there. Threw down some increasingly solid feeble grinds on the curbs outside the park, and started plotting my conquest of a particular quarterpipe via backside rock n' rolls. Stopped at Half Price Books and walked out with a couple promising books, one of which is by Stephen Batchelor, who I can't recommend enough if you want a clear, meaningful, and modern approach to Buddhism. Came home, drank some Koenig Ludwig weissbier- 'cause it's that kind of day, dudes- and jammed some MC Frontalot and 3 Inches of Blood. Later, I'll probably go lay waste to some neighborhood curbs and/or do some/all of the following: take a nap, read, visit my brother, smoke cigarettes, go back to the skatepark, and maybe some things I haven't even thought about yet. Days like this are why we're put on earth.
Shout-outs to Aaron Estrada, War Master, Santa Monica Airlines, D, Daniel, Richard, tahini, cheap lighters, and West Alabama Street.
Impervious to fire, impervious to steel,
D.A.S.
Some words.
"Every waking moment is a footstep deeper into a labyrinth where the meaninglessness of life pursues us like a patient minotaur." -Lina Strade
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