Let The Insanity Begin/Continue
10.31.06 (4:57 pm) [edit]"My friends are always giving me these sex toys as gag gifts. One time I got a penis pump, then an inflatable sheep. The only problem is that these things can only hang around your apartment so long before you have to stick your dick in them. Much like the cat, or the VCR." - Doug Stanhope
There is a distinct possibility that I will be taking half a dozen or so students up in Indiana on Saturdays soon.
As much as the band is gigging, this makes sense since I'll be up there anyway. I can make more money at the beginning of the day to go along with gig money. I don't really have to show up until noon, which doesn't make the morning too crazy getting out of here. Even three hours of teaching can bring in a nice chunk of change.
I'm not so fond of doing it on the weekends we won't be gigging. But this won't happen often - we've only got one weekend off through the end of the year, and we've just started booking for next year, even one scheduled for Nov. '07, over a year in advance - and I've agreed to not call off more than once every few months. Sometimes I'll HAVE to have a whole weekend off. But not often.
This is nuts. But it might be the start of something better than the shit I endure now. It might get shot down, but it looks very possible right now.
The temp agency LIED to me again. This new job is not long term, I'm lucky to be going back tomorrow, and it most likely won't go past Thursday. Fucking CUNTS.
A guy back in Indiana I used to teach bass to had a bar in town for a while, which recently closed down. He's getting ready to open again - under much better financial conditions. This guy has heard me do my solo thing before, he even booked me for a gig in the park there back in 1999 that was one of the most fun things I've done (playing among other things a solo version of Pink Floyd's Pigs (Three Different Ones) and a handful of my bass-through-effects low-rent Frippertronics for a crowd of mostly middle-aged women on a crisp fall afternoon) and I think he'd be very much up to having me in there.
So, all my current musical efforts are aimed nearly three hours away, in the town I couldn't wait to get the fuck out of when I was younger.
I've been asked by a few people if I'd move back. No. NO. And NO. A couple days a week is one thing, but I'll suck cock for a nickel apiece before I'll move back to that shithole. Besides, I'm trying to do all this in a way that has the absolute minimum impact on my time with Katie. THAT is non-negotiable.
I'm gonna break out of this fucking 40-hour-week hell and be a goddamn musician for a living if it fucking kills me. At the rate I'm going, it just might.
Fuck it. There's things to do in Denver when you're dead.
Love,
Dougie