kazatasupa: (fatherson)
Sitting on the toilet, enjoying a beer when I realize there is only one wipe's worth of toilet paper in the bathroom. Fair enough, I clean as best I can, flush, wash hands and move (bringing my favorite can of beer along) towards the corridor between j.c. and [livejournal.com profile] biloba's room, where the toilet paper is stored. Open the drawer: nothing. Not a damn ply of paper to be found!

:::enter obscenity laced shrieking:::

Now, run for the shower... run for the shower!!!
kazatasupa: (organic)
a little party at the house friday night... local livejournal peoples (even non-locals) are welcome. if you're interested in stopping by, chilling out or having a few drinks, drop me a line and i will gladly e-mail my address.

other live journal characters who should be in attendance will be: [livejournal.com profile] biloba, [livejournal.com profile] jentle, [livejournal.com profile] billcarson, [livejournal.com profile] freakzoo and one other who shall remain nameless.

[livejournal.com profile] wickenden, this is a personal invite. you, of course, are always welcome.
ryn, you are also welcome (even though i know you have that sexist back rub event to attend).

this party is a bring your own drink party. drinkers and non-drinkers welcomed with open arms.
kazatasupa: (fatherson)
billie holliday on the stereo. sitting in my spot, chair pulled from the other room (which i'm currently facing), windows and door open letting the still air carry the cricket's song to my ears. this evening's storm, with winds pulling dust into the air while spots of rain raised the humidity has left the air humid and heavy with particles...

[livejournal.com profile] biloba's beer is keeping me cool, however and the easy jazz is helping me breathe. oh, i'm feeling just fine.
kazatasupa: (fatherson)
barley wine and nora jones.

the house is empty. open windows without screens and bugs following paths beat by little wings. they come and go, as if driven by a methodical process; in and out they go, some stopping to feed from my blood, others wandering aimlessly along walls, floors and ceilings, still others drawn by the glow of a dimly lit lamp. a slight breeze occasionally lifts the curtains away from their listless hang, giving life to a house as if guided by an unseen hand.

i like this house. the warm wood floors, and soft evening colors. nora's voice fills the living space with such warmth that i can close my eyes and feel her presence next to me. if you can't see, she's sitting across the room - singing to me.

j and his girl just came home from dinner. sitting in the next room, they remind me of a painting. no words, little movement as their eyes are cast out into an infinite moment...

this place is so fucking moody. it fits me well...
for the time being.
kazatasupa: (fatherson)
lights down low... quiet lovers stowed away... i sit open and alone...

breathing solitude with a fresh breeze casting curtains towards an evening left to tomorrow.
kazatasupa: (fatherson)
sat on the porch, drank a 40 of Miller Genuine Draft (otherwise known as really bad beer), and played guitar for 40 minutes, or so. yes, i think i'll like my stay here. [livejournal.com profile] biloba is out back with chris, cutting his book shelf in half. i'm listening to temple of the dog, and thinking about how simple and focused things have become. life is not very complicated.

my head is screwed on tight.

jason is out with his son, having italian food somewhere provo.

i'm going to offer the fella's a couple wasatch pale ales.

counting

Jul. 30th, 2002 03:27 pm
kazatasupa: (fatherson)
down the days...

almost homeless and, interestingly enough, i'm not really worried. i'd love to have settled on a place (cheap and solitary) by now... but i haven't found a small place that's both a: affordable and b: not trashed.

i might load the trailer with bed, dresser, clothes, guitars, camping supplies and a few books and throw the rest of my stuff out. i could live out of my tent for a while...

if i have to.

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