Good evening to you.

I'm sleeping alone in my own
bedroom for the first time in weeks.

I haven't had a masturbation session
that rewarding since I don't know when.

My dad came to see me play in Buffalo last Tuesday.
I think he liked it.

One thing was funny,
at the club, before and after the show,
he said "fuck" more times than I've ever
heard him say it in my life.

It was cool.
It reminded me that he's a normal person, too.
Not just a dad.

fuck.

My mom wanted to come,
but that wasn't in the plan.
Certainly not the original plan.
I knew my father was going to come,
and that's fine, but one thing at a time.

I tried to explain to her,
it's not like she can just come
to a show and watch from the background.

If she's there, I will know it,
and the audience will certainly know it,
because I will tell them, and remind them
every time we come to some awkward moment
of particular bawdiness.

If one more person asks me if I have ever
thought about writing more serious songs,
I'm going to pee on their shoe.

I do write serious songs.

Let me put it this way.

A trapeze artist can probably make a decent omelet.

But after a stellar performance at the circus,
it would be ridiculous to ask him if he has considered
cooking omelets for a living.

That's not what he has chosen as his job,
at least not right now.
so, if you want pee-pee shoes,
by all means, ask me to sing
you a song about an ex-girlfriend.

I've got plenty.
songs and ex's.

There were several at the show in NY city.
I know I mentioned that,
but I can't mention the severity of it without
bulging my eyes and making wild hand gestures.

It was severe.
It was obtrusive.
It was uncomfortable.

One was invited.
One was welcome.
One was insistent on coming,
and tried, in vain, to justify her
presence by complementing my
ability to bring old friends together.

right, that's it,
bring old friends together.

I hope you read this, let's call you ... Judy.
I hope you read this, Judy, so you can see it in print.

I don't want to talk to you anymore.
And it's not because I don't enjoy it,
I do, but it messes up my brain for days
and I find myself peeing on my own shoes
while I make an omelet on a trapeze.

The best and worst part was,
right after I told her off,
gave her the cold shoulder,
thanked her for ruining my evening,
I turned and stepped in a pile of dog doo.

fitting.

I told my friend it was cosmic fate,
he told me it was proof of how distracting women can be.

Women.

fuck.

I've got a song about Judy,
two, I think.

But she'll never hear them,
and neither with you,
because my omelets always
end up being scrambled eggs.

so there.

-p

Oh my, oh my.

My sincerest apologies for not keeping you up to date.

I've been in New York,
and as you might imagine,
it's been hectic.

What a city.
What a big, hot, dirty, sweaty, city.

It is fabulous.
Quite.

New York is amazing and
big and pulsing and full
of energy like no other place
I've been.

But it's hot.

and mean.

I got my ass kicked by the city yesterday.

I missed so many trains by a second,
and spent so much money on nothing,
and I was so sweaty, and so tired of
everyone frowning at me...

By the end of the day,
I was miserable.

And I was staying with Kristen's cousin,
in Harlem.

I don't know what you imagine
when you think of Harlem.

But I imagine black people...
lot's of them.

I love black people,
they are great,
and different from me,
because I am a white boy,
and I've always loved being around
black people, because they have a new perspective to offer,
and a they have soul, and great music, and collard greens...

But I have never in my life,
been so surrounded by black people,
and felt so alone as a white boy,
as when I walked around Harlem.

There was a moment that defined my time in Harlem...
I was walking to the car,
and there was a group of youths,
standing slightly ominously on a stoop,
I passed by,
adopting my hardened, tough-little-honky,
NY city walk, only to look down and realize
that I was wearing my "Tru Gangster" t-shirt.

ouch.

I don't think they noticed.

In fact,
I don't think anyone notices anything in NY.

It's that big.

------

I met some great people,
great friends in backyards,
and I played at a Cabaret, and a "save the earth" fundraiser,
and we had two awesome shows,
and we had a great turn out for the last one at Kenny's Castaways,
and I had to deal with three ex-girlfriends in one night,
and I didn't smoke any pot,
even thought they can get it delivered here.

Pot...delivered.. to your door,
it really is an amazing city.

There are lots more storied to tell,
little anecdotes.
I'll try to spot them out at shows,
but for now,
I am overwhelmed.

I'm looking forward to coming home,
and seeing birds, and stars,
and people who smile,
but I'll miss New York,
it's a special place with a lot of special people.

-p

Transmission

Touring.

We showed up in Mankato, Minnesota,
at the bar for our show,
and people clapped when we walked in.

That was something.
Made us feel more
important than we really are.

In Des Moines, Iowa,
the place was packed
for a show on a Sunday night.

Fabulous.

In Iowa City,
there were two people there,
and we didn't get paid except in pizza.
But,
the people were cool,
and they got a Tru Gangster t-shirt
for their little daughter.

In Madison,
the crowd continues to grow,
from 7 to 14 to thirty.
It's a start.
50 bucks, plus pizza...

In Minneapolis,
well, we got beat by the opening band,
they were really good,
and they had a huge crowd,
and I got intimidated.

It happens to me sometimes.
I tried to give it my all,
and it was pretty fun,
and it was the Jeet's birthday,
so that was cool.

We leave for New York city this Thursday.
Very excited, although nervous,
our finances are not in line,
and we have a lot of driving to do,
and I'm guessing we'll be lucky
to make pizza at our shows in NY.

Today I'm back into the studio,
still hacking away at new recorded tracks.
You should hear what I've got down
for "It's Time to be Gay"
I did it in a sequencer,
imagine the "Smoke that Weed" track,
but much more fabulous.

-p