We went into the mall and it was boring as shit. Now Agsten is snow driving and doing doughnuts all over hell. Yeah I'm on drugs, what do you think. It's better than being home. Triumvirat's new album is a classic album I've determined because, OH SHIT [words illegible] we made it – left onto 250 off Hull is a bitch. I rather be where I am than home doing homework like some assholes. “Smart people are people who are dumb enough to go home and study every night.” Study your time away, you better watch out there may be days [words illegible] Peg... you see it all in 3-D, it's your favorite foreign movie. Circle Track. I'm a swell football player. We shall scrimp and save...
THIS is a collection of Journals I kept, starting in 1972. I am adding entries here as I find the old journals and type them.
(Please Note: This is in "Blog" format, so to read journals in chronological order, start at the bottom, with the oldest post first, and read upward.)
They were good enough to go up from the bar, oh, we saw a terrible nasty looking scurveee walking down the street and he almost got Ag in a wreck because he was staring at him. He looked like a water rat that was wringed out with grease. Oh, at the Winery the dude went up to the shop and got me some yeast. Then Ag played “My Generation” sung by Patti Smith, twelve times on the juke box, and we couldn't stand to listen to the whole thing once and we left. I hope they like it!
This way. We are at Burger King getting munchies. And this person who is waiting on us, “Wait, there is a weird noise emitting from the side of the building [words illegible]. What a disappointment! Now I will munch! I got a scurvy Fish sand and spilled tarter sauce on my journal. Here it is [there is an arrow pointing to a stain on the page] Shit. That's nasty stuff. Awhh, goddammit, shit. [words illegible] Hey, has anyone seen my legs. We went to the Winery and that place is bad as hell.
This. It's probably because I am not falling asleep like I was while writing the other journal entries Friday night while experiencing X's in scientific notation. We decided to make part of my movie in Bechtel's basement, with weird things happening such as plants grabbing dudes and fists coming out of posters and I am really cooking now! Even (OK [words illegible]) a bicycle going into a poster and driftwood “wonder what Losey was doing.” “Wanna go to the mall first” said Randy, because Ag “put it in low and just slid.” We are going to the mall on weird roads. There is a van right behind us and it looks like Coker's. Now it is a Roesch truck. “Look at that fucker [words illegible]!” We are just going to the [words illegible].
[Again, this entry starts out entirely illegible, until finally I can make out a few words.] I am falling asleep. My X's have dropped into the hundreds for some reason unbeknown to me. [words illegible] movie I saw was weird. [words illegible] my what godawful bad writing. I can do better than that now and I am riding in a car. Yes I am riding in Agsten's Fairlane 500 and writing.
[Most of this entry is entirely illegible. I seem to have been intoxicated, or very tired. Toward the end I can make out a few words.] I am going to sleep now because I am tired. I was watching a show, what was supposed to be Hoolihan and Big Chuck [words illegible] (a Sherlock Holmes) [words illegible].
Well, tonight we had much fun. We went sledding and had much fun. We had fun sledding. It was a lot of fun and we surfed a lot too. I went down hill the very [words illegible] to the ramp and went over it and cracked up [words illegible]. After sledding [words illegible] and we went to Pizza Hut and they would not wait on us so we got pizza and [words illegible] the place. We would of [words illegible] the place anyway, but we had much fun doing things like [words illegible].
This is the last week of writing in this journal. I am writing it all on the three day weekend when I am in a condition to do so. After this I may still write in the Journal, but only when I really feel like it and have something to say. Tonight (Friday) we are going sledding, I hope, the weather looks good and like we came home from sledding and I am home now. And I am experiencing 10X no 15X. No I am feeling much better and [several words are illegible] to 20X. I think.
Some other people also came over. First Marty, Curt, and Kevin B___ came over and brought some Millers. I was told Curtis also took two 714's, once while he was there. He was trying to play ping pong with Rick and he kept falling over. He completely wiped out a couple of tables. Mike's cousin Don, and Matt also came. Don ate a cigar, and they both looked at Hustler. Geisler drove over with Dave B___, Kim K___, Connie K___, and Pete G___. They were drinking Labatt's. B___ went in the bathroom and puked in the sink and Mike made him wash it out with his hands. People were driving Geisler's car all over, and he ended up staying all hight, as did Hahn, who came at about 1:30. We didn't go to sleep until very late, Ag left at 3:30, I went to sleep upstairs at 4. At 5, still not asleep, Geisler, Kidd, Fresch, and Hahn drove to Frisch's for breakfast. I woke up at 10 and could not talk because of all the singing I was doing during “The Real Me.”
A lot of weird things happened. Kidd ripped off a bottle of Black Velvet from Bechtel's friends' car in front of the house. He said it was his but Mike didn't believe him and checked. When he found out the truth, he and Jones tied up Kidd and threw him outside. Later they were trying to let him go and Mike hit his hands with a stick and Ag almost killed him, trying to let him go and untie him. Then Kidd wanted to be saved, so we forgave him and I came up later and looked in the bathroom and saw Kidd with his shirt off, looking in the mirror, and with a picture of Jesus on the sink. Later Kidd recovered, no one got in trouble, and we all still had fun.
Our sound system was quite adequate, too. I brought over my receiver and speakers and cassette deck. Ag brought his receiver and speakers. We hooked the receivers together with Y-jacks, and even though it didn't sound as good as a 70 watt amp, it did sound awful good. We also hooked up Mike's turntable, and we played both records and tapes. The sound from the four corner speakers completely surrounded you, and Ag also brought his headphones if you wanted to freak out. The song that sounded best was “The Real Me,” and Ag was playing that and he kept starting it over. We played it about 7 times including midnight, and we played it at high volume with the strobe light on. We would go crazy and dance around and play guitar and jump over stuff all during the song. I was completely exhausted.
Another form of preparation was the refreshments we had in stock. First and most important we had a lot of good beer. We got all returnable bottles in fact. Mike got a case of Rolling Rock, then I got a case of Stroh's, and then me and Ag and Kidd went and got a case of Miller. For himself, Ag bought 13 dollars worth of wine, all Riunite: a magnum of Lambrusco, two fifths of Rosato, and a fifth of Bianco. Jones also bought a fifth of wine and so did Parker. Losey bought an eight-pack of little Genesee Cream Ales. We also had quite a bit to eat, in all we devoured at least: 2 bottles of raw mushrooms, a giant cheese ball, a giant salami, various chips, dips, and Doritos, and a box of No-Doz.
This new year's eve, we had one of the best parties we ever had, even though Tom and Dan couldn't be there. One reason it was good was because of adequate preparation. Mike fixed up his basement very good, and now he has two couches and many good chairs. We cleared off the ping-pong table so that it could be used. Mike fixed up the bar by putting shelf paper on it, and Mike, Ag, and I moved the fridge behind the bar. (With much difficulty, for 24 bottles of Rolling Rock almost fell out.) We also got new pong balls, another new black light, and Fresch brought his new strobe light over.
I would like to tell what it is like to be dead. Being dead is a lot like being insane, but when you are dead, you understand are are aware of everything. It takes a while for you to get used to being dead. You think you are still alive, but nobody can see you. This is what is known as being a ghost. Being a dead ghost is no fun because you cannot do anything. You can walk around and through stuff, and see everything, but you cannot do any physical stuff. Being a living dead is better than being a dead dead. This is when you are dead, but have a well working body that still functions. This is what I am, that is why I can write. This is good because nobody knows you are dead, and you can do anything you want to.
I was walking down a street in our town towards our house. All I see on the side of the once quiet street are new streets opening up. This is because the town is growing. I am standing on one side of a street, looking across. I do not recognize our house because it is not there. We had moved to an apartment in one of the old buildings I see. Someone shows me into the apartment. I go out later and see a sign on the chimney that says The End. As I am standing outside I get some candy from the store across the street and start eating it. Then I watch in amazement as some kids run up and beat the shit out of a parking meter and take the money. They are buying candy with the money when the police come and take them and me to jail. Dad comes down and I am trying to explain, and I notice I am eating candy and it looks suspicious.
“The way to enjoy fishing is to pretend you are Joe Fisherman.”
I was at school and I was in the basement and had my stereo down there. I was on my way to first period class when I remembered I left my stereo on, and I had to run down the halls to the basement and back to get there on time. (This dream was on the same night I left my stereo on all night.)
We are at a concert at Cleveland Stadium. It is Stephen Stills and then Herbie Hancock. I am planning on playing bass for Herbie. About a half hour before the concert starts, Seiler gets up and yells urgently something about some electrical circuits, and someone in the audience believes him and pulls out a plug and the music playing goes off. Up comes a private dick and he takes Seiler and Ag off to jail. I leave later to try to convince him to let them out, and I end up going home, then my mom drives me back, I get them out, we go to the concert and have missed Stills.
I am making no new years resolutions, so instead I will tell an Uncle Oompah new years story. On new years eve in 1971, U.O. was enjoying himself in Florida. It was about 11 o'clock and U.O., having power-kegged about six or seven quarts of Champagne, was feeling pretty rowdy and wanted to hear some noise at midnight. So on an impulse, U.O. drove at hellishly fast speeds up to Kennedy Space Center, and since there were no guards there that night, walked right into the control room. There happened to be an unfinished rocket on the launchpad, and U.O. started pushing buttons until it ignited. There was a tremendous explosion, and there ended up being over 16 million dollars damage. U.O. wasn't about to pay for it; he just walked out.
I am at Cedar Point where I am going to work. They have a new kind of ride. Floating all around are kind of pogo sticks, which you can ride on, and they float in the air all over the place, very high up, too.
We are in a large L-shaped room. Doing what, I don't know. We go out in the car. Dad is driving down a curvy brick street hitting the curbs.
I am writing this ahead of time so I won't have to bother taking my journal home over Christmas vacation. I would like to say a few things about Christmas, but first I will tell you what presents I got. Since Christmas did not come yet when I am writing this, I don't know what I got. For Mom I got a book called “Passages.” For Dad I got the traditional Playboy calendar. For Jeff I got the new Blue Oyster Cult record album. I asked for a lot of things for Christmas. Mostly I asked for albums. I also asked for some Alistair MacLean and Richard Brautigan books. I also asked for some minor things such as film and cassette tapes. I home I also get some money.
We are at a small diner in the mall (Ward's). We sit at a bar but a cop tells us we can't unless we have ID's. We say that there are no alcohol bev. But he says “Mooooove.” Rick has an ID of his brother's though. We wait for a really long time for our food, and we are complaining. The cop tells us that if we get our food before he gets his, he will kick it up our ass.
We are downtown trying to find a parking space. We are going to the OSU stadium, where the State Theater should be. There we are going to see a simulated water and beach scene and play.