For the life of me I can't explain the existence of these things. A sane god would never allow such beings to come into existence yet here they are evidence that there is no god or, if there is that it has a sadistic sense of humor.

At first glance it doesn't seem that bad. I must be exaggerating. I mean, what's wrong with enjoying a band so much that you want to play there songs. That's what rock and roll's all about right? Stairway to Heaven and Iron Man and all that shit, right?

But from there it takes a sick, twisted turn.

Some don't want to just play the band's songs. They want to become the band. It's one thing to wear the band's shirts, play their songs or get a tattoo but dressing like them- it pains me.

Why spend years honing your talent, learning scales frets, trying to hone your own style and then give up and decide to become someone else. Why not write your own stuff. No matter how bad, you're still better off than any tribute band.

It's not a one off thing either. Some of these bands have been at it for years. At least one proudly says they have been living a joke for twenty years. Twenty years! That's not a joke, that's a career. What a waste.

If I spent years playing and putting out an image as a musician and some lazy sack of shit dressed up as a bad replica of me in cheap clothes I'd sue the shit out of him so all he had left is his lack of self esteem.

Look at this parade of freaks;


This is Fat Metallica


and Fat Alice Cooper.


Great thing about this one is there are three AC/DC bands that call themselves "Bonfire". That's three tribute bands too many, no matter what the name.


Four frat boys that take their shirts off instantly become the Red Hot Chili Peppers.


At least one of them looks like Abba.


More than one person in the band has to look like their counterpart for you to legally call yourselves a tribute band.


This is right from Flash Gordon the Motion Picture.


One douchebag is more than enough.


Tribute Axl? At least he thinks so.


Look, the U2 tribute got to go to Iraq. Don't the troops have enough shit to deal with? War is hell. Good camoflage boys, it's like you're invisible.

A slow strange day. I woke up too early after getting to bed too late. I might have gotten three and a half hours of sleep all last night. Today was spent promising myself I'd go back to bed as soon as I finished something. Before I did something else came up. For some reason I'm feeling tired and achy. My right arm feels fucked up though it has no reason to be. Lack of sleep possibly? Definitely. Two jobs called so tomorrow will be eventful.

Kraftwerk somehow found their way onto my playlist and it seemed very appropriate. Slow and drab but entertaining. That's exactly my mood right now. Just like I'm on autopilot.



Last night I was thinking of a game show called How Will I Die? Great prizes awarded to those that win. A lifetime supply of bleach and sleeping pills to the runners up.

Not sure how the game would work. I picture a huge game board a la Tic Tac Dough with a smiling idiot like Wink Martindale (or Mitt Romney) as host.



The choices are:

Old Age- %15
Cancer- %20
Heart Attack- %30
Murder-%40
Suicide- %70
Unplanned Accident- %80

My roommate is creeping me out. Every time I've come out of my bedroom today he's been right there looking at my door. When I ask him what he's doing he says he was just walking by, which is bullshit unless he walks sideways. I can hear him slinking around outside like some freak.
He's been coughing like he just got out of an iron lung. It's getting really bad. I'm surprised I put up with it this long. He wonders why his roommates only stay for a few months...I can't wait to get my own place again. This guy is weirding me out.

Travelling and my sightseeing vacations have become a staple in my life. At first I didn't think of this so much as a vacation as much as being there for J, who has had a tough time ever since I moved to Chicago. We had our period of lamenting our separate situations but I knew enough that the only way to get past it is to get out and get your mind off of it. The last two days, when we had finished seeing everything we wanted to see and had time to kill, I got us out of the house and driving, going to beaches, eating outside, seeing movies, anything. It worked out well.
We did a lot on this vacation;

-We saw Fort McClary, an old Pre Revolutionary, War of 1812, Civil War, WWI and WWII fort. I think it will be used in WWIII also but not sure which side. Hopefully the mountainmen up in Maine and NH will have made New England a free zone by then so it will go to the people.
-We almost hit a buck crossing the road at night. On the way to the airport we almost hit a pack of deer.
-Saw the first sunrise in America on Cadillac Mountain.
-Got all the winter clothes I needed to get (winter coat, hat, gloves) but not hiking boots. I got a cool belt, three shirts and nunchaku though.
-Spent several nights in the complete silence of the country in huge plush beds.
-Had a lot of time to think things over. I have better ideas about finding a job, ideas for my book, for short stories, for dealing with all my shit. That was the most important thing I did.
-Saw Jackass II (good, but not as good as I'd hoped) and Employee of the Month (about as good as I expected).
-Ate a lot, actually got sick from eating so much a couple of times. Have to work it all off.

I was late getting to Manchester so I missed the first flight to Chicago and had to spend another night in Maine. While waiting and figuring I was already late one woman cuts ahead of the line because she had to go to Chicago and was already late, nevermind that half the line is going to Chicago. She makes a huge production about it, yelling at the woman behind the counter even though it's her own fault and just as she's leaving the guy behind me gets mad because I won't let him get ahead of me to get the flight to Chicago because I'm on the same flight. When I tell him the flight's gone and we both missed it he throws a little temper tantrum as well.
Grown adults.

I got to the airport at 5am the next morning after only lightly sleeping for an hour and a half, went standby on the first flight, got the only seat available and made it to Chicago safe but very tired and unwashed. Going to sleep long and well tonight.

I was in an accident that put me in a coma for three days. Every year on this day I try to do something to appreciate surviving and enjoy the day. It's one of my biggest personal holidays.
This year I was in Bar Harbor with J. We left the day before to go to Booth Bay Harbor and spent the night on the coast in Bar Harbor. This morning we did one thing I've always wanted to do; see the first sunlight as it hits the US.
We woke up early to make it to Cadillac Mountain where the sun hits and, through cold, heavy winds watched it slowly break through the clouded morning. Bar Harbor is now an upper class vacation spot so several people dressed in their overexpensive clothes watched it with us. A good number of them gabbed right through the sunset, not considering how beautiful the view was. J commented on how much the place had changed since she was a girl.
The rest of the day we went around Mt. Desert Island, where Bar Harbor is, and saw Thunder Hole, Sand Beach and amazing views all throughout the island. We made it back late last night, both of us exhausted and tired. I intended to sleep as late as possible but couldn't stay in bed past nine.

I've spent a lot of time reconsidering my life in light of what I was feeling like last week. While staying at a hotel I watched some of the local flavor on the channels as I fell asleep. One channel was Canadian and showed a comedy show that wasn't funny at all. Another had a story about this famous scientist that's managing the robots on Mars and writes fiction on the side. He's won awards and is well known in both fields, which is odd considering the differences between the two.
Much of what he said was both fields were known for the long thought process that fosters solitude and loneliness. It's something all professional writers and scientists have to deal with and if you can't then you won't do well in either field.
My time away helped me think all that through. I had a rough week last week and most of it was in my own head. I get too deep into my stresses and worries and feel much more cut off from people than I actually am. Knowing that, hopefully I can deal with it better from now on.

More and more I think I'm a New Englander. I've spent most of my life here and this is the area that feels most like home to me. I've lived in the South and now live in the Midwest and, while they have some nice spots, New England is most familiar. I love the history, the attitude of the people and I love the area. It's so amazing, small seaport towns that haven't changed in hundreds of years, beautiful coasts, deep forests...Someday I will move out west and maybe settle down for good there but I feel like I'll always be a displaced New Englander.

This town looks like Martha Stewart's wet dream. The house we're in has a frog pond, barn, an apple tree, pear tree, a garden full of veggies and the woods right behind us goes on forever.

I miss writing my book. The first day here I went and got a pad of paper and spent much of the next day writing thoughts and ideas in it.

A long day. Woke up early and made it to NH, got a new winter jacket, shoes and nice pants. We found a great army/navy store and I got some shirts, gloves and nunchaku because my last ones had to be discarded after the fire. NH is a retail giant since there's no tax and Maine seems to have a lot of the headquarters here. This place is full of these quaint little villages with massive stores by LL Bean, Polo, etc all over the place.

We drove on the Kancamagus Highway and went pretty far up in the hills. Ended up in the middle of a cloud on an overlook. The wind was whipping around, mist was everywhere. It was beautiful. Down in the valley you could see every shade of red, orange, yellow, brown, green...

We spent some time in Jackson and North Conway, two towns in the valley known as vacation areas for the wealthy, the types of places they can go to pretend they're doing something worthwhile with their lives.

Jackson was very tiny. The town hall was a small building on the side of the road. The public library was only one room. It would be great to go there for a while, maybe settle down but I'd go nuts with boredom year round. Not many people there. It looked cut off from time. The main road into town was through a one lane covered bridge. If you don't ski, spend your life in the woods or are an artist it's not the place for you.

We stopped at a little coffee shop/art store in North Conway called the Met. On the tables were these blank books customers were encouraged to write notes in. Most of them were garbage but I was particularly interested in the love notes written by some of the people. I noticed all the women that wrote how much they loved their man always added all the things they did for them. They never mentioned what type of person he is, only all the things they do for them and how happy he makes them.
It got me thinking. Most women are in love as long as things go their way. They appreciate what the man can give them rather than for who they are. Rarely do you hear about a woman staying with a man when he loses what he had; his money, his health, hit hard times, needs support. More often than not the woman is gone whenever he needs her help. Many men do the same but it is epidemic for women. Men are thought of as being the providers and now they are nothing more than making a woman's life easier. If he can't do that they find someone who will, never mind the emotions involved. Society has taught women that she should have all these things and treated as children; they deserve to be happy, a man is there to look after a woman, baby her and pamper her though if the man ever needs any of those things he is thought of as needy, selfish and unmanly. What happened to men and women that that has become accepted? Are men nothing more than another luxury to allow women to become more selfish and materialistic? Are they not expected to put effort into relationships? It's no wonder so many are getting disappointed with who they are finding themselves with. They expect too much and offer too little.