When I lived in Paris I had a view of the Eiffel Tower from my balcony. I miss it.
(Source: johnsdavids)
Keith Moon
I read Townsend saying that out of all the innumerable moments that did permanent damage to his hearing, this instant was the worst.
Miss you, boo.
(Source: goodloudsound)
Friend of mine wrote this letter to his mom… - Imgur
I will be doing that later. But my stepmom is probably doing something lunchy with my stepsister (she’s obviously the good child to my wicked one - j/k, but not really)… and I never want my grandma to be able to hear that I’ve been crying.
This is me when I was 6.
This is how I feel today.
Happy Motherless Day.
Some people find this to be a very difficult day. I’m one of them, too.
The Marine Club on Chowderhead Bazoo
On the nights when Frank was still pulling ‘em in with his musical stylings on the organ, the place could look like something out of an Otto Dix painting. Punks and would-be beatniks bent elbows next to stocky tattooed stevedores while aging greasers whose names were probably Joe or Bob or Rusty rolled dice with old gents in suits. There were the over-the-hill jazz dames, pageboy-bobbed, some wearing vintage hats, like hard luck flappers frozen in time, but melting a little bit around the edges. Half-cut rookie night-lifers looking vaguely dazzled in the orangey gloom plied decidedly utilitarian cocktails and cold-ish bottles of beer, maybe even smoking a cigarette or two as if required to get that phase out of their system.
I miss you so damn much, Marine Club.
I had a couple fun times in that place.
My ex, Jerf, and my friend Barry (obvs you know them both well, Grimmer) were drinking there with the old bartender until 4 or 5am on the night they closed it down. An amazing time capsule in its day and a great old dive, one of many that has vanished from the Vancouver barscape in the last 20 years.
March 22 - my mother would have been 66 years old today. This was taken in Ireland just over 4 years ago.
Love you, mummy.
I might have broken my left hand a little bit last week. The swelling is almost gone and the colour is returning to normal, but I’m finally gonna get it checked out tomorrow, probs.
(Almost exactly 4 years since I broke my foot! What a miserable time that was. Probably a good thing the blog I kept at the time is no longer online.)
For the fabulous Dorothy Mantooth, who is getting married today!!!!! Congrats, girlfriend! It’s been on my calendar since you invited me all those many months ago and I soooo wish I could have been there (especially because it snowed here last night and I would dearly love to be trading slush for sandy beaches).
Felicitations (and a little bit of excited micturation!) and a wish for a wonderful, long life together enjoying the world through each other’s eyes… and thighs.
Cheers!
Out and about around the ‘hood.
Atta girl, Mabes! Did you take any shots from upstairs in the museum looking out at the sea and the sculpture garden? Some amazing sightlines from there.
SNFU - “Devil’s Voice”
Tyler Coates requested more “Chi-town” rock but let’s go next level: Mr. Chi Pig-town rock! If you want a “starter” hardcore/punk album, this is one of the best.
Hez Alert, indeed. Thanks! I’m sure I’ll see Mr. Chi Pig over the next few days at the Cambie. He shaved off his long hair and Fu-Manchu for a recent tour - I can’t wait to see what he looks like without it all. I mean, the dude usually sports a shiny gold suit and a fur hat with furry horns… it’s not like anybody’s going to mistake him for a yuppie. Send me something if you want and I’ll ask him to autograph it for you. His drawings are craaaazy. Like, obvs.
PS: Hugs to TyCo! ;-)
Reason #355:
Today would have been my mom’s 50th birthday.
I almost don’t know what to say; I keep wanting today’s reason to be “EVERYTHING!”, but that would defeat the point of this project.
I love that I feel like I still have a relationship with her. People told me this would happen and I thought they were just being nice or precious or were maybe just more religious or spiritual than I could ever be. But it’s true; I do still feel very much like she’s here and alive, and I think that is a testament not to my religious beliefs, but to the impact she made on my life. I have literally talked out loud to her to tell her about my day on many occasions. I have asked her questions aloud, waited for an answer, then asked her another question, as if she had answered the first. What am I doing when I do this? It’s silly, and I know it’s silly in the moment, but I do it anyway. Because it’s sort of been working.
When I’m sad, I can still hear exactly what she would say to make me feel better. When someone does something dumb, I can practically see her face finding mine so that we can quietly laugh about it. The other day I was watching a TV show and thought, “Oh god, I bet my mom HATED this show. I would love to have heard what she had to say about it”, but then remembered she had passed away before it even began airing. I mess up my timelines and forget what she was here for and what she wasn’t because sometimes it really does feel like I talked to her yesterday.
Those moments help balance the moments of realization I have that never, NEVER will I see her alive again. Not ever, no matter how long I wait.Those are toughies.
So today is her birthday. It would have been her 50th. We’re all going to take a sauna in an hour, something she loved to do. We’re going to stay in there as long as we can and then run and jump in the lake. When we tire of that, we’ll come back to her parents’ cabin on Lake May and have a dinner of her favorite foods in the house that she loved. My Uncle Dave may or may not put in his fake hillbilly teeth and mess with people at some point. My Grandpa will surely tell stories about when my mom was a kid; a third of them true, a third exaggerated, and a third completely made-up on the spot.
It’s probably the same night that would be happening if she were alive. And I like that.
Yikes. Today’s a sad one.
I feel ya. I’m 3 1/2 years into this “life after mom” thing and it still brings the random tears and joys exactly like you describe. I’m a mess after reading this post of yours. The day before my birthday a few weeks ago, a woman passed me on the train and although I knew it wasn’t my mom, it kind of was anyway. I knew she wanted me to feel her presence and her message of birthday love and my eyes welled up… and as the tears fell into my lap, I smiled. She always comes through when I need her.
PS: Look for her in your dreams. She’ll always be there, and I can assure you, her hugs will be just as wonderful as you remember.
The Erotic Adventures of Hercules
bridgecomedy:huffpostcomedy:(via gregrutter)
Personal favorite: “The Contrabulous Fabtraption Of Professor Horatio Hufnagel”
Well, this is getting printed out.
From The Amy Honey farewell tour at the Railway this past Friday. (See also video below)