DAZ76

November 26, 2008

DJ update

Filed under: As a DJ,Comedy — daz76 @ 3:21 am
Tags: , ,

As I mentioned before, I am going to document my travails as I attempt to become a professional DJ in Austin Texas. I know, it sounds like a really dumb idea. It is, but that has never stopped me before and I’m still here, right? Some background: I was a DJ in NYC for many years in the 90’s and I played thousands of gigs. oK maybe not thousands but a lot. But that was NYC. Every coffee shop and bar had turntables and DJ music every night so with a little bit of hustle it was not so hard to get a gig. And they paid well too. Cash. It was sweet. But now I am in Austin and even in this progressive city the DJ industry is not exactly booming. It’s out there, don’t get me wrong. There is so much more going on than I even know about, just saying, this isn’t NYC.

So I made a power move last week and had some blank CDs printed up with my name and contact info. The CDs are blank so I can put whatever I want on them, a DJ mix, an original track, whatever. I burned a house mix I had on hand and on the advice from a door man on 6th street I followed my nose to an office in the Warehouse district. How I actually found the place so easily was amazing because all I knew is that it was on 5th street.

This office, I had been told, was HQ for a number of clubs and bars around town. I was buzzed in as a guy with some DJ CD’s to drop off and entered the office where I met the woman that books the DJ. She seemed nice and I believed her when she said she would listen to my mix.

She gave me her card and said to follow up later. I did today and we had a very interesting discussion. Don’t get your hopes up for me just yet because she basically told me that she liked the mix but that her clubs were a bit more pop/top 40. She asked how flexible I was as a DJ and as always I did the wrong thing and basically said not very. I didn’t say that exactly but I could have been more self aggrandizing and less obstinant about the music. Finally she came around to mentioning that one of her bar managers was looking to try a house music night. She said she had to go but repeated my phone number and said she will call me back about the gig.

End of story. Now we wait.

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November 25, 2008

Thinsperation – How to Squash Your Hunger

Ever since I tricked myself into feeling heartbroken so I could write about it I’ve lost my appetite and still feel a bit heartbroken. FYI, the previous post about being all sad about a girl that lives far away is pretty much all true, just highly exaggerated. I really dug deep and reveled in the gloom of feeling love lorn because it was low impact and frankly kind of nice to know that someone could instigate such existential feelings in my normally stony heart. Sure I know millions of attractive women, nice ones too. But this girl in question is sweet. Like really really sweet. Like she wouldn’t hurt a fly and has a soft voice. Whatever about all that, she’s going to read this and think I am crazy but what I really want to talk about here is hunger and some of the techniques I’ve developed to suppress it.

I know this is a touchy subject but that’s what I do here, talk about real shit. First off I want to say that I know many people who have uncontrollable hunger issues. They are always hungry and their body types reflect that and it’s OK. I’m not commenting on anyone else here and I’m not trying to rub it in that my appetite for food has greatly diminished recently. I should add too that while I have developed a certain level of visible scrawn, I still have a fat belly from drinking tons of beer all the time, so we’re not all too dissimilar. In fact this article should be called something like “How to drink a million beers and not get fat? Don’t eat”.

Anyway, first things first, don’t eat breakfast. if you can get past this you are half way to a zero exercise slim down I promise. I don’t advocate drinking cokes and what not because of all the sugar, but I find that one caffeinated soft drink a day can be a good means of hunger abaitment. I go to 7-11 and get a Gulp (not a Big Gulp) of Dr. Pepper on ice and that usually quells any pangs of hunger for a few hours. Another trick you can use when avoiding eating is to just eat a handful of something. Just eat one handful of Wheat Thins or Cheeto’s. I’ve gotten it down to the point where I can eat like ten Wheat Thins and not feel hungry anymore.

By the way, these tips are also good if you are on a budget or poor like me. On that note, whenever you start to think about food quickly think of all the starving people in the world. I’m not kidding here. Think about how many people go without food for days, even weeks, and it’s perfectly normal and accepted by the global community. I think a child dies of starvation every three minutes or something so why the hell do you really need to eat four slices of pizza? You will survive quite happily on two and frankly if you were a good person you would eat one and give the other to a homeless guy.

So we have covered the basics, no breakfast (or lunch for that matter) just a caffeine drink, only eat a handful of food in the early evening, and remember all the really hungry people for thinspiration. Here’s a big one that I forgot to mention earlier, never eat ice cream. I know that sounds terrible, but like all things, out of site out of mind. It doesn’t matter how much you like it, stay the hell away from ice cream. Same goes for anything fried. I live in Texas so it is hard to avoid fried foods but with some will power it can be done. It should go without saying here that eating fried food once a week is not a big deal, just not every day! Unfortunately the same does not apply to ice cream because they put magic addiction dust in Ben and Jerry’s and if you eat it once you are basically eating it all day every day for the rest of your life.

Another good food replacement is some kind of micro nutrient drink or smoothie. I can not tell you how valuable these drinks are in acquiring much needed healthy nutrients and suppressing hunger. Yeah they are almost three dollars but that’s better than the ten you were going to spend on that chicken fried steak. There is one drink out there called “Green Machine” and for whatever reason, aside from making me run quickly up the stairs to my apartment I am more prone to writing poetry after having one. Oh yes I almost forgot one of the most important elements to my routine- live in a walk up. I live on the third floor for a few main reasons, good view off the balcony, no one walking around above me, and built in exerciser.

At this point I have to say that if you can get through most of the day without consuming much food you can now pretty much go crazy with dinner. I mean don’t go too crazy, and if you begin to follow my version of the anorexia diet as I have just laid out, you probably won’t feel like going crazy anyway because you have now embraced the concept of a calculated low food intake lifestyle and you will be too busy buying tighter jeans and hooking up with other heroin chic hipsters at Beauty Bar to miss the molten brownie thing at Chili’s. If you follow my instructions you too will enter the realm of actually shopping at American Apparel for clothing other than t-shirts. How exciting is that?

I will say right now that while I myself quit smoking several years ago, there is no better way to avoid hunger than smoking cigarettes. I choose not to use that method, but I would be remiss if I didn’t mention it.

And last but not least, back where I started. The numero uno method of hunger reduction is getting a broken heart. It sucks, I know, but aside from all the self denial it is the most natural, organic, and effective way of just not wanting to eat. I’ve been through this time and time again and man do I look svelte after a good old fashioned heart smashing. I had to dig deep on this one but I found that sensation and amplified it. Use sense memories if you have to, think about the girl or boy who dumped you in high school. Hell, think about the girl or boy that dumped you last week. Or do like me, find a sweet and pretty girl who lives nowhere in the area and pine about it. You might want to be honest about your true intentions with all the pining (losing weight) or else that person might get too serious and decide to move to town and want to start a family, and we don’t want that, now do we? It’s too much fun being skinny and single and wearing the aforementioned tight pants to the club.

I want to go on the record that I am not into skinny girls. I mean they are OK but that’s not my first preference. I think women with curves are the most beautiful so please ladies don’t take this as a provocation to become bulimic. Also, while I am writing this with a certain amount of jokeyness, I am writing from personal experience and I do all of the above. I don’t think I need to say it but obviously your health is important and I am suggesting not to be a real anorexic, but that thin is not automatically a bad thing as the model haters would have you believe. Also thin is not some sexist ploy by men to make women unnaturally into something they are not – real men like a voluptuous woman. I hate to say it but it’s gay dudes and other women who have created the stereotype that all women should be thin. Don’t kill the messenger on that one, just look at who works at Vogue.

So in summary, here are my ten points for being a thinner you:

1. No breakfast

2. No lunch

3. One caffeine drink a day

4. Three to four micro nutrient drinks a week

5. Only eat a handful of snacks

6. Think about all the starving people

7. Take the stairs

8. Smoke cigarettes (optional)

9. Get your heart broken (or recreate the feeling)

10. Be poor

There you have it. No need to thank me, just buy me a beer with all the money you will have saved from not eating. My next how to guide is going to be about quitting smoking, probably the main reason I had to go on the anorexia diet to begin with!!

November 17, 2008

Kill the Mortician

Filed under: Poetry — daz76 @ 10:39 pm
Tags: , , ,

I want to kill the mortician
I’ll find him where he works
Cold blooded I don’t care
Make him drink formaldehyde
Lock him in cold storage
Listening to him beg

My revenge for what he did
To a young dead girl’s body

Before I extinguish Mortician
I will let him confess to me
What exactly he was after
in his quest to know death

Mortician will tell the story
Mortician ate human flesh
She couldn’t move or scream
As you took her to a party
To amuse the other sicks
With your display of power

People talk, Mortician
And some of us never forget
Pray the police find you first
Because my scalpel is dull
And I come with an angry ghost

November 13, 2008

People are looking but what the fuck to say

I guess I should go ahead and try to capitalize while I have the attention of all the street carnage traffic but it’s not going to be easy. I got nothin’. I have been trying to figure out what to write about all day and um, yeah. Nada mucho.

Windows Vista sucks. It’s not so bad itself it’s just that I’ve had all sorts of problems  with my music software. Mainly the troubles are with pro tools not recognizing certain hardware and seemingly unfixable timing issues between the control surface and Reason synths. These things were not an issue in XP.

I do like the other aspects of Vista though, it’s pretty smooth actually. I am using one of their stock screen savers now, which I never do. It’s a black and white photo of the inside of an empty train carriage as it is passing a massive lake with mountains in the distance. The monochrome image really caught my eye because I love train travel. I just love trains. I love trains so much that I know about hobo symbology and streaking. True American folk art traditions. Using trains. My grandfather worked on trains in Ireland.

Also, I like the photo because the idea of travel appeals to me. I hate flying. All the submission to authority and standing in lines. I hate that shit. I’m not scared of flying I’m just pointing out that it’s often uncomfortable, inconvenient and grueling. I know train travel is more dangerous but I don’t care. Carve my carnage out of a train wreck any day of the week before you wipe me up from a plane crash. A train crash would be pretty sudden I imagine, while in a plane you wait, and wait, and wait, before finally hitting earth and getting decimated into gore. I recognize that a derailment might take a while, but I’d rather be all thrown around violently for a minute before I die than to have to sit there in a broken plane with all the criers. The people praying to God out loud would piss me right off too. That would suck.

Anyway, I look at the picture of the empty seats on the train and I imagine that I’m sitting on one side looking at a certain dark haired girl I know who is sitting on the other bench. She’s looking out the window at the mountains. She’s pale and beautiful.  The photo is black and white but we are in color. Where are we going? Not sure… Oh yeah, we are traveling from Berlin to Paris for the weekend. First we will go to Düsseldorf and visit Kling Klang studio where we will ring all buzzers on the door and run away. We will eat at Nacht Cafe in the red light district and later roam the dirty techno bars near Düsseldorf’s main station. The next day we will rendezvous with friends on the Champs-Élysées and I will bring some of my newly minted vinyls to a few of Paris’ more specialized record shops.

OK I’m leaving it there. Writing that in expectance of street carnage readership is like taking a shit backwards. Why would one do that? I did it to prove a point. I could have continued a thing about SC but that’s old news and honestly, I kind of write this blog for the females. I don’t care if the guys call me a fag for writing about liking some girl and wanting to ride around Europe on a train with her. I know it’s kind of faggy but whatever… Most women just want a giggle and some good sex poetry and that is why I do this so bear that in mind, dudes, as you concoct your mean, condescending three word comment response to this post. Go read some Hemingway tough guy, this is a romance orientated blog for the ladies.

November 12, 2008

WTF with the street carnage??

First off, I just realized a little bit more how stupid a lot of people are. And mean too! that’s OK, I like being mean on the internet. I think I was the one who came up with the phrase “being a cunt sometimes is fun”. Didn’t I? The comments I moderate are usually for a really good reason and never for being insulting. I sort of collect insulting remarks as keepsakes.

Anyway, what’s up with the drama of me getting banned and then talked about/published at streetcarnage. You might wonder that because it’s probably the reason you’re here, because you linked from their site to the post below (An open letter to Gavin McInnes). Whomever wrote the piece they published today (Gavin, I guess) did a pretty good job of explaining what happened when they tried to ban me, but they didn’t really talk too much about why. Let’s just say I’m now going to share my side of the story. So do a bong rip and light a ciggy, you should be finished reading by the time you stub that motherfucker out.

I started reading Vice waaaay back in the day when I lived in NYC. Early 90’s and I would pick up a free copy every month at Other Music, the record store around the corner from where I lived. I kept them all and they were stacked around my shady old apartment on 4th street. I didn’t write much back then because frankly I’m really bad at it (that’s between me and you OK) and without a spell checker I’m fucked. Shit, I’m fucked with a spell checker so you get my point.  The main reason I started a blog was so that I would have to improve my writing skills. I’m not trying to get off topic here but want to point out for whatever it’s worth that the voice of Vice Magazine has been echoing in my head for years. I don’t know about now, but in many ways you can compare Vice to The UK version of the Office. Some people just can’t get past the cringe inducing quality of the material. Whether it be mean spirited remarks for the sake of comedy or some other kind of heavy handed cultural taboo used disrespectfully to get a laugh, of just shear idiocy for idiocy’s sake. I know people who can’t get past that in Vice and I always felt like I got it. As I lived in the east Village I deeply feared opening a fresh copy of Vice only to find myself standing there, jeans too baggy, dreadlocks, “Don’t mess with Texas” T shirt, sweater wrapped around my neck, with a record bag over my shoulder, staring back at myself out of the page like a douchey DJ dear caught in the headlights of the dont’s section. Fortunately, my shitty wardrobe and I made it out of NYC pretty much undocumented.

Point being, I’ve been reading Vice forever and I still get a kick when I find a new issue at Waterloo Records. I always grab two and give the extra to someone who doesn’t know the rag.

OK so I’ve been reading this shit forever and truth is I never looked to see who wrote what. Who ever they were they couldn’t have been entirely human so I kind of didn’t want to know. I have no idea how I stumbled across streetcarnage.com. I did though, bookmarked it and forgot about it. I came across it again, took a look and instantly loved it. I shit you not It wasn’t until very recently that I became aware of street carnage’s (Specifically Gavin McGinnes’) connection to the old Vice Magazine. The thing I mainly liked on Streetcarnage was Wasted Push ups. That’s what initially kept me coming back. If you don’t know what wasted push ups is, it’s some hipster kid in Thunder Bay Canada getting wasted on various hard drugs and doing push ups on his web cam. It’s amazing and the videos are usually well under two minutes.

When I started this blog not too long ago I was wondering how to get readers and was asking people what to do. This girl I know who runs a vampire blog told me to start commenting on the blogs that I read. I was like “oh yeah” and started reading more of the posts on SC and leaving comments. People are pretty rude over there and I received some nasty remarks but that’s part of the fun. I didn’t take anything too seriously and just kept on reading and commenting. I noticed there were other frequent commenters too, so I didn’t think I was doing anything so unusual.

That’s when I started to look at this thing they have on the site called the talk box. It a small text field and it invites, “Leave a message and it’s on our homepage”. It was only logical to utilize this little box to promote my site. To me, that’s what it was there for. I was impressed that the street carnage team had so brilliantly referenced the impermanence of street art and encouraging that type of free wheeling one way communication; quick messages that might only linger for minutes, even seconds before some one else would come along and eradicate them with their own digital brand. It almost seemed like a game, I would write something, someone else would modify it, and I would go back again and reclaim my little white text field like a graffiti writer monitors a wall. I honestly thought that’s what it was all about and was shocked when they initially shut me out of the site.

I was concerned because someone named Burt Sirloin (I’m guessing now an alias from a street carnage person) was sending me insulting messages and telling me to stay away from SC. I was like fuck you! I kept on messing with the box. I write poetry and graffiti so it just appealed to my sense of text playfulness and one time another blogger contacted me saying thanks for writing my name next to hers instead of going over it. I was even being fucking considerate!!

Let me say too that at the time the other messages people were leaving were stupid, offensive, juvenile and often sort of funny. I wasn’t taking much away by utilizing the talk box and I’m confident the only person I really bothered was the sucker who’s job it is to stare at the street carnage homepage all day and unfortunately for me that’s probably the same person who knows how to ban people from the site.

Or so they thought.

Because, as you can read in their post, while trying to ban just me they ended up banning everyone, including themselves!! Ha Ha Ha Ha!! That’s fucking hilarious! Can you imagine how confusing and frustrating that must have been?? I’m only laughing hysterically because of my role in all this, I have no ill will toward anyone at street carnage at all. No way could I have ever imagined the technological nightmare they suffered no doubt over the weekend in trying to silence my voice, my annoying, self promoting, bloggy little voice.

It’s quite plausible that I am the first person to be banned from street carnage, and as I pointed out to them in my first concerned email, that kind of makes me the coolest person on the internet.

I wrote a very nice letter to them asking that they confirm that they indeed banned me, not some mean hacker who hates my poetry and the next day I recieved an email from Gavin stating that they had indeed banned me. I was embarrassed about the whole thing and wrote him back, the email they published.

I then pretty much stopped looking at street carnage exactly for the reason exemplified by today’s amazing post- I was waiting to get publicly fucked with.

Yesterday Gavin contacted me again angry that I was still spamming the site. Fact is I was not and I assured him of that and it’s all good. I suggested he give me a shot at writing something for street carnage, and I’m sure by then he was already thinking, “You already did, bitch, you already did…”.

So there you have it, that’s how I became famous on street carnage and I didn’t even have to get wasted or do any push ups. I love street carnage and I hope they don’t hate me. Initially I was thinking that they owed me a beer for being dicks but now I realize that I probably owe them a beer for being the reason for so much fucked up internet stuff, but the thought of Mr. McInnes (Mr. McAnus) not being able to access his own blog is priceless- especially when the message pops up:

“You have been banned for endlessly promoting you awful blog”!! or whatever it was.

I love that guy, but you got to admit, that’s fucking funny.

November 5, 2008

An open letter to Gavin McInnes

Filed under: What does Daz76 have to say about it? — daz76 @ 12:06 am
Tags: , ,

Dear Gavin McInnes,

First off go fuck yourself for banning me from your website and calling me a fag. I want you to know right off that just because I am a fag does not mean I’m gay. You sir however, are indeed gay.

I don’t know what you hippies in Canada do, but here in the USA we have a thing called free speech and you should look into it. It’s really cool, especially if you are a writer, but oh yeah, you’re not. Sure sure you try, here, there, but we all know that you were born rich and pay your slaves (African French Canadian ones, the worst kind) to do your “writing” for you. By the way, that’s probably why there are so many typos and unnecessary references to poutine and the Kalahari in your “works”.

So you banned me from your website for leaving some comments and a few references to my own blog (which I’m sure you will now plunder for nuggets of humorous gold to recycle in your own posts, and that my friend is a don’t, if you know what I’m saying) even though you provide a little box in which to write them. It even says something like, “Leave a message and it’s on our homepage” which is an open invitation to promote a band, store, website, whatever. Duh! If there are some rules (restrictions) then they should be clearly posted. Something like, “Hey everybody, write something here! Except you Daz76, except you”. It’s like painting a wall white and then putting a few cans of Montana spray paint out next to a twelve pack and not expecting someone to get loose on that bitch with some wild style. What you have demonstrated by banning me is just another example of classic Canadian Bacon flavored oppression.

Mr. McAnus, I know this message is a little rough and I hope your uncanny banishment of me from your site is not related to my well documented lack of regard for a woman’s marital status and my love of adultery. You being a married man I can see how that could be troublesome but I don’t date Canadian women so you’re safe, dude, chill. By the way Canada sucked in the Olympics, and I often wonder if that had anything to do with you. Probably yes.

So yeah, I didn’t want to read your blog anyway so I’m glad I was banned. I only looked at it because I am curious about various cultures from lesser developed regions. I was just doing research so it doesn’t really matter anyway. What’s funny is that I was going to ban you from reading my blog but I couldn’t figure out how to do it so you sort of saved me the trouble. Take that, douche nad.

No regards,

Not yours,

Daz76

PS: To my other readers,

Gavin McInnes is the man behind http://www.streetcarnage.com and invented making fun of peoples clothes from afar. He is also kind of responsible for inventing hipsters, Engrish, and Andrew WK. Whatever you do, do not read his stuff, you wont laugh or anything. I am actually banned from street carnage for promoting my blog there too much, but I’m pretty sure they are just testing my mettle before flying me to New York City for a meeting to discuss my salary as chief corespondent for the site. But who knows, I might just grab the Rolodex off the Street Carnage secretaries’ desk and haul ass to the Vice Magazine office where I can really party down in Uganda and shit.

street carnage dot com logo

November 3, 2008

Heart broken again and kind of happy about it

You know that feeling in your guts when someone you like a lot moves far away, or maybe you wont see that special friend until next year at camp or whatever? Yeah, I have that feeling right now. It’s not a total dirge, because there is a future, just not a now. I am surprised when I feel this way because I thought my heart was pretty toughed up after all these years, but I can’t ignore the symptoms,

I’m kind of heart broken a little bit…

OK, sorry. Her name is Lori (it’s not really, but let’s just say it is) and she lives faraway in another city and doesn’t come to Austin much. She’s petite to say the least but not in an anorexic way. She’s curvy luxuriousness with pristine white skin and cut, classical features. She has as close to an Asian look a part Cherokee can achieve. She’s amazing, a thing of beauty.

Seriously though, this isn’t about her it’s about this feeling. The bitter sweet sensation that makes food seem uninteresting and you can’t fully focus on anything. The only thing one can do is go to a record store and aimlessly wander through the rows of vinyl reminiscing about certain songs or other soothing effects in that, “Why is this Berlin record making me want to cry?” kind of way. So there I was at Cheapo’s (local used music emporium here in Austin, one could live there) riffling through the dusty records in Thursday’s new arrival bin. There was some good stuff, and obviously coming across a classic Queen, Kiss or Ozzie record with the hilarious and over the top rock and roll album covers can momentarily distract from the warm gnaw in the core of my stomach.

I kept riffling through the vinyl and checking out the other late night record store patrons and employees. Almost everyone was in various shades of black clothing including me, in solid black. There was even a cop shopping for music and his uniform was black. Anyway, I’m lost in the ambiance and space and memories, hey there’s a Richard Pryor record! And then I came across a copy of the soundtrack to the film “Manhattan”.

Gershwin on vinyl. $3.99. Perfect. I only had six dollars in my pocket and I had no plans of buying anything, but you would have probably done the same thing. Or you might have bought the Richard Pryor record, I actually don’t know what you would have done but I went with Gershwin.

She’s safely home now after the weekend in Austin. A few hours after she left I found a little black hoodie she wore at my apartment. A relic, proof, it was real. Did she leave it on purpose? Maybe. I hope so. Girls do that right? Maybe she will come back to get it?

So here I am with the proverbial glass of red wine listening to my new record and reveling in the dulcet tones of the wood winds, piano, and violin. The music is actually more stirring than I expected as images of the 80’s New York skyline flash across the music, my recollections from that amazing and poignant  movie. I’m glad I stumbled upon this sound track tonight.

I just went over to the faded gray black hoodie lying on my bed and it still holds her sweet scent.

So that’s it. She’s gone away now and all I can do is hope I’ll see her again next summer at camp. Until then I don’t know what to do. Write letters maybe? Not to go way off topic here, but with all the hype about how much more connected we all are because of technology is only sort of true. Emails, texts, and phone calls are of no use in this situation. Part of the tumult involved in love and heartbreak is that there is no substitute for proximity, being close together and feeling very comfortable about it. That’s the rare thing. You can’t put that on the internet. That’s probably what the left behind hoodie is for. Girls are smart.

I’ll be OK, and I’ve now moved on, listening to Kraftwerk’s 1978 classic work, “Man Machine”. So I’m making some progress in the musical gloom department. How I met “Lori” and and our unique history is another story unto itself, but that’s all I can write for now. I’m weak with hunger and the thought of food is impossible. I’m trying not to go back to smoking. So tomorrow if you see me in the philosophy or poetry section of the used book store know I’m hurting a little bit on the inside and feel free to invite me for a coffee or preferably a beer or something, because you really can’t cry into coffee. That would be gross.

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