The Last Night of Frivolity

Tis the season to get my
ass back in the line.

Let me fill you in.

I've been living in sin.

Sin, indulgence,
chocolate, cigarettes,
red wine, good pot,
great sex, and sleep.

I've had a lady staying with
me in my bedroom.

An eight by ten foot
lair of luxury.

Den of debauchery.

Enough with the alliterate metaphors,

I've been getting laid a lot.

It's great,
and it was unavoidable,
because she was crashing
here in this little room, with me,
and I was constantly, and delightfully,
distracted.

shit, that was another alliteration,
wasn't it?

sorry.

What it all comes down to is this,
tomorrow, my room mate moves out,
and I move all my gear, microphones,
guitars, and recording equipment into
the front bedroom.

And with some amount of concerted effort,
I've got to get back to work.

I've probably said this a hundred times,

"I've got to get back to work"

But it's true,
and what I need is,
a space.

Getting laid doesn't
distract me on it's own.

If it wasn't with one girl,
it might be another,
and if it wasn't with any,
I'd probably be jerking off
enough to keep me exhausted.

I'm a fairly horny kitten,
in case you didn't know.

But, having a space,
a hole, a little private workshop
where I can get stoned and let silly
songs come out into the wee hours of
the night when the really magical weird
shit happens.... that, I need.

I get it for one and a half months.

That's until the day they tear our building down.

Incidentally,
the day after my next big show in Chicago,
which to me... sounds like a great excuse
to throw the most ridiculous party ever thrown.

We don't have neighbors,
and... um.... they're tearing
my whole building down the next day.

"do you have a bottle opener?"

no.
just throw it against the window.

But, I must.. I must,
make sure that party is to celebrate something.

My first truly creative stint since
the last time I locked myself in a basement,
and recorded six songs, wrote twelve,
and broke up with a girl twice,
thus getting two more songs.

In the meantime I've tittered
and come up with some little things,
and I did a whole, relatively cool
album in a real studio.

But I can't wait to get back
into the kind of room where
all of this stupid shit started.

A... bed... room.

That's where I wrote the most,
how many fucking years ago?

I had no girlfriend,
I had no problems,
I had money,
and I had space.

I was living with a girl
for many years,
and now I've been
letting one stay with me,
out of necessity,
but.. you know... one thing
has led to another most nights.

But tomorrow,
today... by the time
you probably read this,
I start a new, mini-era.

wish me luck.

It's a time crunch,
which is good for me,
otherwise I usually just waste time.

-p