There is a point in every man's life when he drinks too much whiskey, gets his hair cut at a BAR at 2am, and wakes up the next morning with a mohawk.
link to this post   10:15 AM by Trey | (2)

How is Trey Ending Relationships?

One of the the above actually happened. Feel free to comment if you know the answer or want to speculate...or add your own.
link to this post   5:54 AM by Trey | (1)
All my hurricane booty calls fell through. I suppose when people realize that they aren't "going to die," they also realize that they also "don't want to have an apocalyptic make-out session with me." Well, you lost your chance, ladies.

by Black Scottie (an ex-roommate/friend)

Let me tell ya something
Love is not sublime
It is crap
It is the dirt underneath your fingernails
The A bomb went off in the forties, right, well what was left after that, that was love, fucking concentrated love, the good shit
If you wanna find love sure as hell don't go to some stupid bitch who aimlessly repeats iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou just to get you to spread her legs and stuff her good
If you want love go to the gutter go to its peoples they know love and the lack of it they know the meaninglessness of a word and the power of an action
link to this post   4:18 PM by Trey | (0)
See? Hurricanes aren't so bad...

link to this post   3:20 AM by Trey | (1)

Hurricane Ivan Storm Blog

Wednesday, 9:15 PM
The Vienna Sausages are gone, all gone. I sat down to watch Legally Blonde 2: Red, White, & Blonde, and when I looked down after the credits rolled, there were empty cans scattered all over the couch. All that's left is the liquid that they are packed in, which I will collect in a pot and save for a stew. The weight of this situation is only now starting to sink in...damn your appetite, Gustave!

I was just crying, cupping my face in my hands, tears spilling out unhindered. When I raised my head, through the tears, I glimpsed some Vienna Sausages in my grasp, waiting to be placed in my open, grateful mouth. However, I had mistaken my own moist, pruned fingers for that which I desire most, the primary pork export of Vienna. Oh Yahweh! Why have you forsaken me!?!

I have now only one of those little packages of orange crackers sandwiching a thin layer of peanut-butter. I have half a litre of PowerAde. If my rationing plan fails, I will have to begin foraging very soon. I'm trying to win some eBay auctions for provisions, but some asshole keeps outbidding me. What is your problem, wienerlover73? Not everyone has time to sit around and keep clicking refresh while you outbid me by $1.23. If I wasn't in the middle of a maelstrom, I would drive to Santa Fe and teach you a lesson in pain.

Wednesday, 7 PM
Landlady stalking me relentlessly from Denver. She wants me to tape garbage bags over the windows in case the windows break so that rain won't get in the house. Does that sound like it would be effective in deterring gale force winds?

I don't know if this "curfew" means that you can't be outside if you are under 17 or anyone can't be outside. The guy at Molly's said that they would be open tonight.

There is a blood-red sky with clouds moving across it like sheep running from a wolf. "The skyline looked beautiful on fire."

Wednesday, 10 AM
My abandonment swells with the rising storm
No man is an island, but my soul is a volcano
From which my heart spews the fire of lust
Languish beneath the steam from my pits

Wednesday, 12:30 AM
Can't sleep. I remembered that I must make waterproof time capsules for all of my belongings. I have fashioned a make-shift canoe out of salvaged furniture and Vienna Sausage tins. Times like this, I look deep into my soul, truly, into the Heart of Darkness, and ponder, "What Would Jesus Do." I have decided that Jesus would sip Jameson on the rocks while watching some more of Apocalypse Now. Focus Manthey, focus.

Susan won't return my instant messages. I think she is ignoring me. Maybe the storm has already gotten her. Who knows. I can't remember the last time that I saw a human. Who will play "28 Days Later" with me? No one...what will I do with all this fake blood?

Tuesday, 8:30 PM
I ate three more cans of Vienna Sausage. Must stop philandering. Makes me lazy. If I am to stay strong and virile during the pounding onslaught of Ivan, I must be in top shape. The wind chimes on my front porch are calling for me. The clinkle so delicately, but their shenanigans don't fool me! They are mocking me. Can't take much more of this...

Tuesday, 6:15 PM
I can't decide whether to go to the Mermaid Lounge tonight or just stay home. I saw some awesome bands last night at Banks Street, including Malady (the new Richmond, VA supergroup!), Skitsystem (fellow Swedes), and Hunger Artist (music for impotent hurricanes).

Dear loyal readers, I have some bad news...
After having my last relationship ended by my girlfriend at the time leaving a "break-up" comment on one of my posts, I've decided to "take a break from blogging." When will I be back? I don't know. There are just too many people who have been scarred in the wake of my online journal. I need to find myself.

Tuesday, 5 PM
I am watching Apocalypse Now on DVD. I just ate two cans of Vienna Sausage, only 48 left. Must conserve.

Tuesday, 4 PM
I'm going to keep a running account of the events, both natural and unnatural, that I bear witness to over the course of Hurricane Ivan. This is the first post.

I just got back from Sav-A-Center. They were out of Perrier. Dang. This is sometimes referred to as the "calm before the storm," yet everywhere I look, panic burns in the eyes of the weak. I stride down the fresh produce section without deviating my glance to arrive at my goal. Mmmm...Vienna Sausage, canned pineapple, PowerAde!
link to this post   4:05 PM by Trey | (3)
Everyone who keeps calling me in tears to ask how I'm doing, know that I am fine. I keep getting the same "if we're going to die, I don't want to be alone tonight" line from every hot chick that I see. Sheesh. My only complaint is that my beach plans were ruined...

Ivan ruined everything.
link to this post   1:33 PM by Trey | (5)
Rob gave me a copy of the lost recording sessions of MiR, the space rock band that we started (and ended) earlier this year. The band recorded five songs one night during a downpour using one microphone that was hung from a chandelier in Sarah's living room, the cold April breeze blowing through the open door and windows. Gretchen's keyboards are missing from the mix and so is the Grandaddy cover, but fuck...I thought I'd never hear these songs again.

It's called the Death in Space EP.

The band is finished, these songs will never be properly recorded, and we never got to do the 7" that I wanted to make. Regardless, for the four months we spent preparing for the two shows that we played, I had so much fun creating something from nothing.

The Commuter (MP3 - 3.7 mb)
Space Station to Station (MP3 - 3.0 mb)
link to this post   10:03 AM by Trey | (0)
Sometimes it's hard to know if my conscience is telling me not to do something because it's the "wrong" thing to do, or if I'm just being a unadventurous pussy. It would be nice to meet someone there, or take someone with me, but I think that is against the point.

Oak in a flower pot. Ha.
link to this post   9:38 AM by Trey | (4)
I want to increase the number of cowbells on my drum kit. I've been using this big ole loud thing (the "Ridge Rider") that I got for free when I bought my drums. It sounds kind of dumb and doesn't really add anything to the songs when I use it. I'd like to get two or three smaller ones and add them on a little rack above my kick drum so I can do cool little ostinatos during verses. Primary influences for this impulse: !!!, the Rapture, Xiu Xiu, Blue Oyster Cult. Unfortunately, I cracked my ride cymbal a couple weeks ago, and the replacement is quite pricey.

I've become a little self-conscious about the demo that we recorded earlier this year. Listening to this recording it is sort of like finding a journal that you wrote in in high school; you are embarassed to read your own thoughts, primative and immature. However, I love it and indulge myself by listening to it in my regular rotation. Not that I am embarassed, but the little mistakes that I hear over and over again, along with the abyssmal recording quality and lack of vocals makes me reluctant to actually distribute it to anyone. We can do much better.
link to this post   9:19 AM by Trey | (2)
I found this short story that was in one of my Literature textbooks in high school. I have put it on my site so that I can always find it in the future. Feel free to read it.

Harrison Bergeron by Kurt Vonnegut
link to this post   1:38 PM by Trey | (1)
Soundtrack to picking myself out of the gutter:

0. A Sight to Behold (Devendra Banhart - Rejoicing in the Hands)
1. Lights On (The Secret Machines - Now Here Is Nowhere)
2. Blueberry Boat (The Fiery Furnaces - Blueberry Boat)
3. This Boy Is Exhausted (The Wrens - Meadowlands)
4. Rock & Roll Suicide (David Bowie - Ziggy Stardust)
5. Scouring for Any Signs of Life (Crestfallen - Streaks of Terror)
6. Won't Get Fooled Again (The Who - Who's Next)
7. Mogwai Fear Satan (Mogwai - Young Team)
link to this post   10:28 AM by Trey | (1)