Tag Archives: Burd

Hafner at El Rio

20170318 Hafner Continue reading

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cleaning out my phone

6 days ago:

shapeshifter, don’t shift on me
” shift away don’t hesitate for me

24 days ago:

or whatever kind of time, it doesn’t natter

68 days ago:

signs you’ve been in an abusive relationship too long:

–every pretty smiling girl you meet, you imagine grimacing w tears running down her face

158 days ago:

putting website sticker on toilet lid is most brilliant design except i’ve forgotten because i’m following my own philosophical path, baby.

633 days ago:

i’m here, in his bathroom, thinking, in a British accent, “Sir, you’ve placed a most delectable photograph over your urinal. Thank you.”

696 days ago:

v fluid

vaginal valentine a week
before giving thanks

812 days ago:

i’m the only one listening to ambient1

sorry for the
inconvenience stairs

I must be drunker than I
think because all
did was blink.

poet gardener

did you turn the sprinklers off?

Caribou crouches low, suckles kindness

burp bordering on belch

831 days ago:

12 Shannon

958 days ago:

47 things

psychedelics in the desert
psychedelics at a desert rave
psychedelics at the beach
stoned mix bowl
millennium consort singers
Pomona college orchestra
Pomona college choir
concert in LA
club in LA
naked party

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i just got back from Walgreens, where i picked up anteyebiotics-that-i-didn’t-think-were-actually-working-until-i-stopped-taking-them at Walgreens. when the white-haired lady behind the counter asked for 36¢, i made a dumb, apologetic face and almost handed her my debit card, but the crazy fat momma next to me picking up medicine for her high-strung fever-stricken five-year-old blonde boy wouldn’t have any of it. in an instant she pulled out one quarter, one penny, and one dime, i dealt bows and Thank Yous to both old ladies, and ducked out of the store, promising myself i would blog the instant i got home.

no matter that i’ve got one more blog post of the day (for work) to write, who wants to write about a money-hungry social gaming startup partnering up with a money-hungry fast food joint anyway?

yeah, i started full-time work super duper officially last monday. my job? write four medium-sized (250-1000 words) pieces monday through friday with a focus on social and location, especially Facebook, Twitter, Zynga, and Foursquare (the biggest social network in the world, the most popular noisemaker in the world, a company that somehow tricks millions of people into spending real money on 100 pixel-sized images of corn, and a service for telling people where you are in the world every second of every day). technology is weird.


can you believe it? i can’t believe it. this is always how it sounds when i explain what i do for work: yeah i write for this small tech blog that you never heard of and follow facebook andsocialstuffa ndit’sno treallyexc itingandn oidon’tgetp aidverymuc handyou ‘ reri ghtit sound skind of l am e but I GET. PAID. FOR. WRITING. such happiness.

also, i can work from home or wherever i want, for the most part. a typical schedule for me:

2330: finish first story, set to publish for 0100
0000: sleep
0600: first alarm
0615: second alarm
0630: third and final alarm
0700: wake up
0800: publish second story
0830: dick around online, eat a lavish breakfast
1000: publish third story
1130: dick around a whole bunch, maybe go for a drive
at some point: publish fourth story

i swear to god, if i cut down on my dicking around time i’d only be working five, maybe six, hours a day. still, i’m usually done pretty early, which is nice. oh, because i only get six hours of sleep a night a most (and no i don’t care if you think that’s a lot), i usually try to take the longest possible naps i can once i finish all my work. grizzlies need their sleep.

yesterday was a bit of an intense Facebook day for me because, after i spent about an hour of my morning watching this live stream from the company’s Palo Alto headquarters of CEO Mark Zuckerberg unveiling some totally amazing awesome life-changing new features, i went to see The Social Network with Alicia. it was a pretty entertaining movie but, even based solely what i saw from that shitty stream, i can confirm that the film Zuckerberg is a completely different thing than the real Zuckerberg. this guy’s a brilliant and awkward nerd, not a snarky backstabbing asshole. well, maybe not entirely. my favorite comment on the movie comes from Zuckerberg himself: “I just wished that nobody made a movie of me while I was still alive.” i feel you, man. these filmmakers gotta chill out. there are plenty of stories from the past that haven’t been made into great films yet.

after a coffee intermission, Alicia and i made it a double feature experience by watching Gummo on her laptop back at the apartment. before i say anything, just watch this clip:

here’s my synthesis of the Wikipedia article for the movie because i don’t know how to express ideas in words: 1997 American experimental independent film collage of unrelated vignettes depicting the hopeless, nihilistic lives of the poor residents of a small Ohio town that had been previously stricken by a tornado. shot with primarily non-actors in traditional pre-planned 35mm, along with 8mm, 16mm, Polaroid, VHS, and Hi-8, the film explores drug abuse, violence, homicide, vandalism, mental illness, poverty, profanity, homosexuality, transexuality, homophobia, sexual abuse, sexism, suicide, grief, prostitution, animal cruelty, euthanasia and racism. FUN! FUN! FUN!

i’m just amazed that it has a 34% on Rotten Tomatoes while The Social Network has a 97%. critics are fucking stupid. i’d say the movies are about even, 4/5 to each.

this is Alicia week! on monday i visited her at work with my laptop so i could keep her company AND kick back some brews AND write half of my tuesday stories AND give her a ride home AND chill a little in her new apartment to the sweet sounds of Neil Young. crazily enough, i ran into this guy Richard, who used to be part-owner and main waiter at a this delicious Japanese restaurant downtown called JoJi’s. the business got sold and completely changed a couple years ago and it had been even longer since i ate there, so it was a complete shock to me when Alicia called out “Richard!” to this white scruffy dude wearing a flat cap (apparently also known as a sixpence, scally cap, salmon hat, Dai cap, or Jeff cap) and sauntering over to the jukebox. as he turned back to Alicia, i had my moment of realization and (kind of uncharacteristically) pointed at him and shouted, “hey! i know you!!!” he was understandably taken aback (probably because he figured he would’ve recognized someone that looks like me) until i explained to him everything.

at first he couldn’t remember my family, but it slowly started coming back to him–how my dad always explores SF, how he’d always change the tranquil Japanese music to Latin music when my mom came because he knew she was Nicaraguan, the one time he accidentally charged my dad $600 instead of $60. i remember he was such a character, he made this tiny restaurant that fit maybe 15 people explode with Life. he had an endless repertoire of stories (you couldn’t tell which were real), he spoke with unmatchable cadence and wit, and, perhaps most important of all, he understood It. he is not one of those people you see going through life dead. he is Alive.

are you alive? Continue reading

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Why [archive]

here are three of my favorite flags ever, in some particular order:

i bought a pretty big version of the second one there on the Haight on saturday. i had plans for a week or longer to get a giant rainbow flag, not just for Pride, but also just to have because rainbows are awesome, but when i saw the coiled snake hissing, DONT TREAD ON ME, i had to choose that instead. to make it up to San Francisco, i got a rainbow bandana too. Rachel bought some wild white leg warmers which she sported at Pride the very next day:

everyone loved her. we discovered probably the best stage at the whole party because it was blasting heavy, funky, trippy four-on-the-floor beats, the best to dance to. once we cleared out a big enough circle in the crowd for Rachel, she got her hoop on and everybody fell in love (except for the two or there people she may have knocked here and there). one creeper in particular, after making sure she wasn’t my girlfriend, kept insisting on turning to me and telling me how fucking sexy, how fucking beautiful, how fucking hot she was. fuck you dude i just want to dance! honestly, i actually got my fair share of attention too, though i have no tits nor ass nor was my outfit as crazy as Rachel’s. i was wearing my DONT TREAD ON ME flag as a cape and wielding my disco ball with the fury of a thousand suns (the little lighted dots that reflected the one circle in the sky across the faces of everyone around me). dance party in the day!

on monday, after finishing up my work in the morning, i went with Rachel to an awesome coffee shop at their original location in the Mission. i had a “Tantalizing Turkish,” long known to be one of my favorites. while Rachel slaved away with Bay Area foreclosure data entry over shitty wi-fi and periodic injections of consciousness-dependent caffeine, i sipped my Turkish and read Dostoevsky. check out this brilliant barrage of wisdom, vomited by the protagonist’s only companion, drunk at the time:

‘What do you think?’ cried Razumikhin in a still louder tone. ‘Do you think I am annoyed because they talk nonsense? Rubbish! I like people to talk nonsense. It is man’s unique privilege, among all other organisms. By pursuing falsehood you will arrive at the truth! The fact that I am in error shows that I am human. You will not attain to one single truth until you have produced at least fourteen false theories, and perhaps a hundred and fourteen, and that is honourable enough in its fashion; but we can’t even produce our errors out of our own heads. You can talk the most mistaken rubbish to me, and if it is your own, I will embrace you! It is almost better to tell your own lies than somebody else’s truth; in the first case you are a man, in the second you are no better than a parrot! Truth remains; but life can be choked up; there have been instances. Well, what are we all now? We are all, without exception, children in the kindergarten, in respect of science, progress, thought, invention, ideals, desires, liberalism, judgment, experience, and everything, everything, everything, everything! We have been content to rub along on other people’s ideas–we have rusted away! That is so, isn’t it? What I say is true, isn’t it?’ exclaimed Razumikhin, shaking and squeezing both ladies’ hands. ‘Isn’t it?’ (171)

much of my media consumption lately has been concerning crime:

it’s almost a poem. “crime and punishment / a cross the universe / irreversible.” plot points for all three combined read like the trailer to a Jean-Luc Godard French New Wave classic: The pretty girl. The bad boy. The revolver. The nice man. The stupid manager. Death. The little Parisian. The jewel thief. The French house. The police. The pin-up. The musicians. The “skivvy.” St. Petersburg. My friend Razumikhin. John Stuart Mill. The American interviewer. The Utilitarianists. The camcorder. Tenderness. Adventure. Lies. Love. The Golden Gate Bridge. Fear. Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. Closure. Memento. CRIME AND PUNISHMENT A CROSS THE UNIVERSE IRREVERSIBLE. The best book/live dvd/film around now.

i can’t read as fast as i can buy books, unfortunately. i got a bunch of new (used) books! for about $20, in total:

The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson (inspired by the Whitman house)
Lunch Poems by Frank O’Hara (inspired by Tori)
East of Eden by John Steinbeck (inspired by Allison)
Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman (inspired by Dan)

i love used bookstores. Dog Eared in the Mission is particularly incredible. yeah, after finishing up at Philz Coffee, Rachel and i wandered around the neighborhood with no particular mission. she bought a sparkly little sequined purse at Goodwill, where i got the Steinbeck. we also discovered not one but two bizarre little stores almost right next to each other on Valencia. the first was filled with taxidermy, fossils, awesome books on nature, and even had a backyard pond complete with plants. the second was a pirate shop that we’re convinced never makes any money because all they sell is cheesy pirate gear: eye patches, peg legs, whale oil, etc. then like fifteen steps away were three amazing used bookstores, including Dog Eared, where i got the non-Steinbeck books listed above. i want to live in the Mission.

after all the wandering, we were quite hungry, and Rachel had wanted to go to this place called La Oaxaqueña. i can’t remember the names of anything we had except for Rachel’s crab enchiladas. but, as one reviewer said on Yelp, “Their Mexican Hot Chocolate is HAPPINESS IN A CUP.” yessirree.

on tuesday, the vicious kitten and i explored a different brand of hippiedom: Berkeley. after we had exchanged musics a couple weeks ago, i naturally became more aware of her gifted musicians in all the music news streams i check. so when i noticed that CocoRosie was playing a free show at Amoeba Berkeley, i easily convinced Rachel to stay until at least Tuesday night. they put on a great show. it’s these two sisters, Bianca “Coco” and Sierra “Rosie” Casady, both born in the US but they formed the band in Paris. Wikipedia says, “Their music has been called “freak folk”, and incorporates elements of pop, blues, opera, electronica, and hip hop.” i say, they’re the Notwist with not-as-depressing vocals sung by females instead of a male, one being Joanna Newsom meets Bjork and the other being a great opera singer in the shower as heard through a bedroom wall. yeah, it’s weird stuff. they even had a beatboxer on stage providing most of the beats. i really liked that.

after the show, we wandered in circles trying to decide what to eat, until finally leaving it up to Yelp, which led us to this inexpensive, incredibly delicious Indian place. spicy curry, warm naan, squishy mushrooms, nice rice, hot tea, some strange mango drink, and enough tap water to wash an elephant; Rachel and Ronny are fucking in heaven.

bodies bloated, minds meandering, the two Rs next wandered to a little sanctuary Google Maps tells me is called People’s Park. check out that article. apparently this particular park has quite a bit of history. we didn’t know that then, though. i just lay in the sun, blasted the diverse throbs of Bassnectar from my bassless iPhone, and watched this gorgeous girl spin in time with the entire solar system:

Rachel in the park

before Rachel’s flight out of Oakland at 8, we drove aimlessly up the Berkeley hills. i was somehow confident we’d find a cool lookout spot, and we did! all of San Francisco Bay lay before us like it had just two weeks earlier from Treasure Island. a beautiful girl and a beautiful bay, like a sweet cappuccino served with a freshly baked croissant. perfection; kill me now.

the day after i lay around lazily for most of the day until evening, when i went to Adam’s house for his BBQ-less/farewell party/high school reunion shindig. he had invited Chris, Mark, me, Stephen, and Tori, but only Tori and i showed up at 730. the rest came a couple hours later. i had such a good time though. after i ate a killer quesadilla (thanks Adam’s dad!) and delectable salad (thanks Adam’s mom!), the three of us just lounged in the living room, listening to choice vinyl from the Adam Lee collection and shooting the shit. dear Adam and Tori, i love you. you guys have great taste in music and great taste in conversation. i could sit in a living room with you two talking for the rest of my life. as long as delicious tri-tip quesadillas and juicy tomato salads are served periodically.

now don’t get confused. i’m not about to tell the same story twice. i just have really cool friends. ready?

yesterday was a very special day. Tori came over in the afternoon and we flew to Jupiter and beyond the infinite. actually, we just went to walgreens and shopped for sunglasses for about twenty minutes. i don’t know. but we both got new sunglasses. then we just had to go somewhere where there would be sun so we could put our new purchases to work and the only place we could think of was the beach. so we went to the Fort. and walked. and talked. and balked at stuff. and ate chalk. and socks. full of sand.

Tori holding the Fort

next we went to the Mission, a place i’m starting to literally fall in love with. it gives off pheromones or something. Tori wanted a goddamn good burrito so i took no chances and took her to a place i had just confirmed as divine on saturday with Rachel: El Farolito. that time i had a super burrito de lengua, this time i had a super burrito de chorizo. for some reason it was much smaller this time, but i made up for it by eating the rest of Tori’s. (girls.)

stuffed, we drove over to Dolores and lay in the leaving sun while listening to Flying Lotus masturbate about Los Angeles from Tori’s iPod Touch. it got cold quick, though, and we still had an hour to kill before the Eagle Tavern show, so we went to Dog Eared to read for awhile. i picked up Ambrose Bierce’s Devil’s Dictionary for 60¢ (i told myself to not spend any money on books, but a classic for under $1 is irresistible). Tori bought a cool Billy Collins book, leaving the O’Hara because she “can just listen to me talk.” i’m blushing.

saw Oh Sees again last night! after i see them on saturday at serra bowl (wtf?) i’ll have seen them eight times, the same number of times i’ve seen my ALL TIME FAVORITE BAND EVER IN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE (nin). and seeing as how them there Nails ain’t tourin’ no more (supposedly), i’ll definitely surpass those eight for good once i see Thee Oh Sees maybe in august and if not then sometime else (unless John Dwyer decides to make yet another band).

Oh Sees opened for this Australian garage punk rock band, Eddy Current Suppression Ring, the band Tori really came to see. after having just watched Thee Oh Sees, it took me a few Eddy songs to adjust to their sound, but by the end i was rocking my face off. got nice and sweaty. again. drove home with my shirt off, a beautiful dark-haired girl at my side, and a 90mph wind in our faces.

made sure to download Eddy today. speaking of, i added a bunch of music recently:

Andre Ethier – On Blue Fog (2007)
Crystal Castles – Crystal Castles (2008)
Eddy Current Suppression Ring – Rush to Relax (2010)
Fela Kuti – Alagbon Close (1974)
Fela Kuti – Why Black Men Dey Suffer (1970)
Fly Pan Am – Fly Pan Am (1999)
Fleming and John – The Way We Are (1999)
Jefferson Airplane – Bless Its Pointed Little Head (1969)
HEALTH – Get Color (2009)
Nancy Elizabeth – Battle and Victory (2007)
The Pogues – Rum Sodomy & the Lash (1985)
Yanni – Live at the Acropolis (1994)

most of these were recommendations from strangers on the Internet. the Yanni might make sense if you go here. Adam gave me (and Tori) the gift of Fly Pan Am, this amazing post-rock band.

i haven’t been really listening to any of that lately though. if you want to know my recent obsession (and don’t ever check my Facebook or 6stars), just press play.

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hungover [archive]

after refusing to see The Hangover with Donni and Hannah for two whole separate weekends, i finally caved and went to see it with my mom and brothers. my expectations were bottom-of-the-sea low and Billy calling it the best comedy in forever didn’t really float it any higher. but i laughed. i actually laughed. i was thrilled! pretty solidly good movie. definitely worth seeing. i still don’t know if i would pay my OWN money to go see it, but yeah, it’s good.

last night i hung out with Christopher Burd Quines. with the sun setting over a hazy Ocean Beach, we drove around purply in search of rhythm, finding ourselves taking the Classical route into the heart of the city, Amoeba Records. Rich had gifted me an Amoeba $13.55 credit receipt in exchange for spending ratio from one of my favorite private torrent sites on downloading Jason Moran bootlegs for him. pretty sweet exchange, but i didn’t find anything to spend it on this time. i mean, i found many things i could have bought, but i just don’t buy things that easily. i only think a few things are worth spending money on these days, in order of importance: food (always), music (live always, vinyl sometimes, CDs never), transportation, and drugs (which might more correctly be classified under “transportation”).

tonight i’m seeing Young Prisms play a house show live in Gio’s asshole, according to the bizarre pink triangle.

also, watch this:

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