Garbage pt. Deux

and some stuff I found in my pockets.

I’ve been working on a piece for way to fucking long that was inspired by being called a piece of garbage by somebody that I used to know and the many different ways that can be taken, expressed and ultimately digested within the depths of my soul.

©Sesame Street Workshops… The bastards at Disney didn’t want him either.

When I started working on it there felt like there was some purpose, some deep meaning that might hold some weight. I tried to work it from all sorts of clever angles and fancy lights, but it just never spoke to me the way I had hoped.

So I let it sit. I would visit it almost daily to see if the ol’ ebb’n’flo would fucking do it’s magic.

Crickets.

Frustration. Sadness. I almost just gave up on this thing all together. I mean who gives a shit really? What’s the fucking point?

It’s the little shit. It really is. That entire little situation that happened in my own head holds no meaning for anyone else. There was no lesson to learn or share with anyone other than the little man that lives inside my head and tells me that eating half a cheesecake from Costco is okay.

So a couple or maybe a few little things have happened that inspired me to just ramble about some shit and move the fuck on.

Happy sober-versary to me. Another year in the books for me since the day I tried to live. No fanfare, no hullabaloo. Got my chip, patted my own back and keep on. It really does just get better. The work can be hard at times and the memories can be brutal, but Jesus Fucking Christ is it better.

Maybe the most important news of the year so far… maybe this decade… A lost Cramps record is being released to the masses with a little help from Ian MacKaye and Henry Rollins. Produced by Alex Chilton (If you don’t know, you should. Look him up.) and on Vengeance Records no less with new merch and some reissues on the horizon. It all looks very old school without a lot of flash or big biznass hands filling their own pockets. Apparently a substantial chunk will be going to the lovely Poison Ivy, as it should. I mean they even have the glitter stickers available for all you Gucci bag carriers and your good taste. Life truly is good.

Poison Ivy Rorschach. My heart still flutters when I hear her crazy sound.

I’ve been struggling with my coffee situation for a minute. My old Bustello Mexican hot chocolate situation just wasn’t cutting it any more.

Fucking tragic.

I considered investing in some sort of fancy brewing situation, did a bunch of research, chatted with folks about their morning brew rituals and caffeine induced habits. The struggle is real.

Then I discovered G7 3 in 1 Vietnamese coffee. I mean, if the dapper couple with their helicopter on the packaging doesn’t get you, then you simply are not alive. A satchel of G7, a couple tablespoons of Bustello and a splash of whipping cream…

Boom muthafuckah. Boom.

Then, on a trip to my favorite Asian market to replenish my G7 supply, I discovered G7 Strong X2.

Holy fucking balls!

Again, the packaging featuring a couple of motorcycle riders alone should reel you in. But the statement “Two times stronger-for vigorous personalities.” is the calling card we all are looking for.

It is the absolute perfect blend of sweetener, creamer and robust coffee goodness all in a perfect little single serve package to take wherever you need to show the world your vigorous personality.

Think of really bad truck stop coffee that you really want… no, need a cup so badly that anything tastes absolutely perfect. It’s that. Every fucking time. With fake creamer and sugar. It’s beautiful.

And it fits in your pocket.

That’s all I’ve got. I might finish Garbage pt. Une at some point, but sometimes sleeping dogs… well, let’s let them sleep.

Full playlist HERE.

Be good.