Next Wednesday In Raleigh

I've decided to perform a few minutes of stand-up at Charlie Goodnight's, one of the biggest comedy clubs in the southeast. So, I'm saving my funny for that. Sorry, but I can't spare one sweet, sticky drop.

I will post either a transcript (hopefully fucking not) or a video or audio recording of the performance. It'll be fun. You'll see.

Your man in the field,

Text Radio.

Wake And Bake In Raleigh

12:39: Just woke. Check to see if any roomies are here before lighting up last night's half-joint.

Nope. 

12:53- An adequate afternoon wake-up & pick-me-up.

Listening to The Band, Levon Helm singing, lay down "Up On Cripple Creek", I'm reminded that I'll be visiting Levon's house and studio at the end of February to see The Black Crowes record their latest album. Woodstock, NY.

Should be seminal.

Folkie came by last night, and we drove to a buddy of mine who was throwing a party, for no reason, 'cause that's what he does. Good crowd, and I picked up all the weed I'll need for, at the very least, a week. If I can smoke a half-ounce in that time, I'll need to critically reevaluate things. Perhaps I already do, and just won't

Saw a good friend of mine last night. Been friends with her since before she came to high school with me, but she was only there a year before I left. Regardless, we still tend to keep in touch, and I've always counted her as 1) one of the hottest girls I've ever met, with an ass that refuses to quit, and 2) one of the sweetest people I've ever met. She's a good kid. Had a few moments with her last night, which is a plus.

I'm gonna cut this thread and actually PLAN what I'm gonna write before I get on here next time. My writings lately have been disjointed at best, confusing and boring at worst.

Viva Cannabis,

_text_radio

Fuck You.

Listening to a Crowes Blu-Ray, and drunk enough to take time to type, I have this to say.

Fuck you. Unless you're cool.

THAT IS ALL.

- Text Radio.

Crowes List Of The Now

1. Wiser Time (including intro), Amorica.

Nothing can be said about this song. It demands to be heard.

2. My Morning Song, The Southern Harmony And Musical Companion.

Few bands produce this much rock their entire career, much less within six minutes and sixteen seconds.

3. Thorn In My Pride, SHMC.

The only song on this list, or in the Crowes' library, that even comes close to matching Ed Harsch's keys work on Descending.

4. Poor Elijah, no studio version released.

Amazing blues jam that they've started incorporating into their live shows on this side of the 2008 Warpaint release. Luther Dickenson's slide guitar is no more masterful than when he's soloing on this song.

5. Girl From The North Country, no studio version released.

Cover of the Dylan ballad with a heavy amount of Crowes rock thrown in the microwave.

6. Seeing Things (Live), studio release on Shake Your Money Maker.

For sure, one of Chris' most vocally impressive songs. Gets even better as Chris gets older.

7. Move It On Down The Line (Live), studio release on Warpaint.

From Coach: "This is a Zeppelin riff if I ever heard one!" And so, he was right. Great psychedelic intro gives way to freak-rock revival. Blow a gasket, fuckers.

8. Descending, Amorica.

Part great ballad, part one thing I can play on the piano. Works for me.

9. Twice As Hard, SYMM.

First song off the first album, and still stands as one of Rich's top all-time riffs. Feel-nomenal.

10. No Speak No Slave, SHMC.

You could, and likely will, break a bone while listening to this song. It's that hard.

This has got new feature written all over it.

Introducing...

3:20- Beautiful snow today cleansed the landscape. Classes canceled until 10:00 AM, optional after that. It's still coming down now, though the accumulation hovers between five and six inches, or so it seems. Bud and I went to some friends' place and watched the inauguration.

Bud- One of the three people excluding my brother that I would consider my best friends. Known him since fourth grade, and we've been pretty close ever since. Late high school carried over to college, and we've lived together for the past one and a half years. Hardly ever smokes pot, is rarely not down to drink.

And then there's me, Text Radio. I'm the writer. The character. I am who I write about and from. No bio, just piece it together as we go along.

9:42 PM- School delayed until ten tomorrow morning, so no effect on me. First class is at 1:30.

Smoked herb a few times today, including about thirty minutes ago.

Probably going out sledding to this meta-hill that Bud discovered today- I'll start drinking soon. Probably light up before I go, too.

God, I love college.

1/21/09, 12:55 AM- Got back from moonlight sledding an hour or so ago. The hills were steep, and we took the Kia out to some NC State-owned land and rode the packed ice again and again until our calves burned from the ascent. The entire Raleigh skyline, made all the more brilliant by the blue-gleaming snow, was visible from the top of these hills, and stayed in radiant view all the way to the valley. Picturesque, if I ever saw it in the state capital. Dangerous, tree-dodging, ice eating fun at unreasonable hours- these are the nights of victory.

Smoked a joint, mainly pot, while discussing video games with Bud, our roommate TPT, and TPT's lady, Boozehound.

That seems to be the day, and the night, and now the morning.

We'll be seein' ya,

- Text Radio.

Right Now In Raleigh

Snow warnings keeping things in high spirits. Consequently, we went out and bought a few 6-packs of premium beer to keep the innards warm throughout this impending blizzard.

It rarely snows south of the Raleigh/Durham border. Cause for celebration, right?

Text Radio's A Series Of Chronological Events I

6:50- Curious undertaking tonight. On the advice of my "better" judgement and a joint of INCREDIBLE pot (the best I've had in a calendar year), I have decided to embark from this empty apartment tonight in search for the ever-elusive lay. My buddy UFC Charlie has been invited to go along- the jury's still out on that one.

I'm really not a man of standards tonight. Anything will do, as long as it's a human female and not a gnarly one.

Getting back to writing after a good length of time separated from the craft, it comes with a sense of devoted purpose.

7:01- UFC Charlie'll be here before 8:00. Time to shower and plan out game.

Should be interesting, to say the least. We're tryin' out Hi-5. Onward!

Last thing said to UFC Charlie: huzzah! huzzahs are in order!

Last thing said by UFC Charlie: and some nOOb pWnagE

Monday update: 12:27 pm- Don't remember much of last night, but no ladies. One of those facts might inform the other.

Right Now In Raleigh

Avett Brothers and KILLER pot.

Please, allow me to introduce myself. I'm running a blog here with no real thread to tie it together, other than the fact that I will author all of the posts.

The last two entries were from a text-file journal that I wrote in the past week. This post, as can be noted in the title, is being written live, not copied and pasted. I hope that clears that up. Let us never speak of it again.

Hey! It's 4:20. Bowl rip, motherfucker.

That's some very good pot. Wish I could show you pictures. Hell, wish I could smoke with you.

That kind of explains why this blog exists.

I'm a huge fan of music. I work in the music industry, though I won't tell you where. I will be writing about music, stoned, with great frequency on this blog. Look for that.

I'm in college. That has it's moments. I'll let you know how that turns out.

I drink, constantly. I will offer up beer reviews from time to time. Liquor, too. Wine, unlikely.

Song lyrics that I scribble down in fifteen minutes during class and transcribe here? You can't prove it won't happen.

Movie reviews? I just saw The Curious Case of Benjamin Button the other evening, and it was phenomenally mediocre. A grand bore. So, yeah, look for movies.

Religion? Politics? Ragnarok? Probably not. Well, at least not religion or politics. Ragnarok, likely.

General musings? For no real reason, and with no certain point? Sure, I'll try some fiction.

You get the idea. I'll try to be funny, and hopefully succeed with some consistency.

We'll be seein' ya,

- Text Radio.

Last Sunday In Raleigh

1/11/09, 2:30 PM


Drug dealers are the single least punctual people in the world. It doesn’t surprise me- the nature of their work makes a mockery of timeliness. The product they’re selling (weed, in my case) makes the user lazy, forgetful, and fascinated by interesting-looking lights, and I’ve never met a dealer that didn’t smoke. I’ve waited hours past an agreed-upon callback time only for one of my guys to say they wouldn’t be able to meet up that day.

I always envision one of my dealers sprawled out stoned in a recliner, glancing precariously back and forth between a ringing cell phone and a Jeffersons marathon, unable to decide which takes priority over his next half-hour. Today, one of my buddy’s dealers is apparently moving, not off his ass, but on up to the east side.

The problem with buying from new guys is that you seldom know what the hell you’re gonna get. A buddy of mine once hooked me up with his dealer when I was jonesing real bad for some bud, and I paid eighty bucks for a very small amount of low-end high-grade marijuana. It took me a while to realize that the mid-grade gets me just as high, sometimes higher, than the orange-haired, white crystalline, lime green pot. Don’t get me wrong; I like smoking very good weed every once in a while. It makes me feel fancy. But I can’t sustain a pot habit at those prices for very long.

I’ll write more once I’m stoned. So, hopefully soon.

Last Saturday In Raleigh

1/10/09, 12:30 AM


You want to know what pathetic looks like?

I’m sitting here, the proud and recent recipient of two six-packs of pathetic beer. The first pathetic beer is a “strawberry blonde” lager that tastes like, you guessed it, strawberries. This beer is only pathetic by transitive property; it is pathetic because I am the one drinking it. I am a man; I should not be swilling strawberry-themed beer. If I was a career manager at Whole Foods, or if I were a female backup singer for James Taylor, strawberry lagers might well fit into my life picture. However, I have a pair of testicles, and they directly clash with the beer’s light fruit notes, crisp and refreshing though they may be.

The fruit notes, not my testicles. You know what, either one.

The second pathetic beer is a well-known microbrew’s winter seasonal ale, with big red and green “2008” adornments slapped all around the 6-pack handled open-top box thing.

This beer is pathetic because, at the time of writing, it’s January 10, 2009.

The Black Crowes have been through so many lineup changes that Wikipedia has a color-coded chronological chart of the band’s membership since their inception in the very early Nineties. Fans generally agree that one of two things end up causing members to take flight: drugs, or Rich.

The drugs explain themselves. Either one of the guys gets too fucked up and winds up fired, or one of the guys quits the band for fear of a relapse back into behavior they’ve worked long and hard to snuff out.

Rich Robinson and his brother Chris formed The Crowes from the members of an earlier band, “Mr. Crowe’s Garden” and have remained the only two members never to leave the band for any amount of time save the five-year hiatus where the band split up to pursue solo and outside projects. Rich, who writes the musical arrangements for The Crowes, is reportedly difficult to get along with, and one can imagine how that could be problematic. The ego complications of individual musicians are well documented and can be researched at any major library for those so interested.