"Special" - Dabrye feat. Guilty Simpson, Paradime

December 17, 2007- Venice Grind Coffee
I went to meet a close friend. In between an article on gangs I was reading in LA Weekly, this brief conversation took place...

Me: Dude, guess what happened? I went to go pick up and I found out that someone broke in to my friend's stash and took it. Almost all of it is gone.
Person: No way....
Me: Yeah and what sucks is that it's probably one of his close friends, and I would probably know him also since we're all from the same neighborhood. Doesn't that suck? He slangs to support his family and shit. How could anyone do that to their own friend?
Person: Well, I don't know about that man. After all...
Me: After all, what? He got betrayed by one of his close friends. It's fucking weed, man. It's not crack or speed or anything. It's a peace drug.
Person: But you know, what he does is...you can't say he didn't deserve...
Me: Whoa, wait. You mean to tell me what he does is morally wrong? Selling marijuana to support his family and survive?
Person: Well, he is....
Me: So you mean to tell me that just because it's against the law, it's wrong? And so you must think that any act is fine, so long as it's legal?
Person: .................
Me: Wow. What an easy way to live life.

Finished the article in six minutes and left six seconds later. So, what does he think of me, then? After all, I am the seller, I am the thief. These are my people. This is where I am from.

This just stresses my dependence on hip hop culture; I don't just listen to it or throw out words like, "yo" or "shut the fuck up, stanky ass bitch". I need the folklore to empower me, for my placement in society. And as I tread through life, subtle exchanges like this only help me further develop my sense of self and who I am and who I never want to be.

-- Sonnyred

http://www.box.net/shared/pvtr8994d8

"Cat Claw" - The Kills

Hello All,

What a beautiful weekend, eh? I've decided to tote around a notebook so that I can doodle and write and have people I meet write in it also, like a yearbook. Well, en route to a someone's house yesterday I went to watch the surfers and thought you guys might be interested in a little thought process. This is what I wrote in my notebook:

12/16/07 – El Porto at 2:19 PM

• Parking lot at El Porto
• Watching surfers in the water
• Saw a guy walking back – frustrated, but a willful smile
• At least he can say he went surfing

THOUGHT: I cannot say that I went surfing today.

12/16/07 – Someone's Apartment
Going through Polaroid pictures of Christmas party. She offered me one choice of 5 photos.

1. Her, Me
2. Her, Me
3. Her, Me, Paul, Paul's Date
4. Her, Me, Paul, Paul's Date
5. Her, Mike
   

CHOICE: 5.
THOUGHT: Fuck that.

http://www.box.net/shared/f0naklog4p

-- Sonnyred!

"Say You Do" - TV on the Radio

So I was just thinking about this, just now, a few minutes shy of a friend’s visit, a few more on top of that for some fresh pizza (extra sauce, extra cheese, extra fuck yeah), and a few hours more from my going away party at Barcopa in Santa Monica.

And I was sitting there, existing, being high, listening to Sea Wolf on my couch and I thought about how people like to give me a hard time for the way I choose to adorn myself. As most of you know, at night I go out and wear these gay ass looking, flamboyant yellow-tinted, plastic framed glasses. I swear, people love busting my balls about them and of course I can’t blame them. It comes with the territory; it’s like a flare gun saying “douchebag alert.” And my reasons to justify them are definitely legit: they help with depth perception, it helps me compose my photographs, etc. All legitimate reasons. But truth is, you know and I know that I enjoy wearing them because I like to, it’s my moniker. It’s an altered reality, it’s a new way of perceiving my environment, it’s a constant sunset.

Well as I said earlier, I was sitting there, on my couch, thinking about whether or not I’m going to rock the golden glasses tonight. What the hell was I thinking; of fucking course I’m going to wear them tonight. Shortly after that, I began to think, “Ok Roe. Well, what are you going to say when someone asks you, ‘why do you like to wear those glasses so much?’ What are you going to answer?”

I’ll tell you why, my darling.

It’s because it makes me feel like a fucking celebrity.

Sonnyred is back.

http://www.box.net/shared/6cai27tdir
Here I am with one of my favorites.

---------------------------------------------

What is love can you tell me baby be,
Is it the hole you put inside me.
Yon cavernous crater young windswept cave,
If love is my salvation I don't want to be saved.

But I never met a girl like you.
Someone who made that dumb shit true
So oo oo.

(Love me love me love me, say you do)

when you do,
wont you say you do.

(Love me love me love me, say you do)

say you do.


Full capacity mind wake suck sainity I fake,
Not much more that I can take before I start to bend a break.
Burn the indian sky the sea, I blot out every memory,
And then I solemn vow I swear, I'll never ever ever fall again.

But I never met a girl like you,
Someone to keep my black heart blue.
And I'll always stay a little bit me,
The portrait of complicity.


Well its a lovely picture of me,
Hanging on the stars above me, Screaming girl why don't you love me.

Well its a lovely picture of me,
Hanging on the stars above me, Screaming girl why don't you love me.

Well its a lovely picture of me,
Hanging on the stars above me, Screaming girl why don't you love me.

Well its a lovely picture of me,
Hanging on the stars above me, Screaming girl why don't you love me.
(Lovely picture of me)
Say you do

(Love me love me love me, say you do)
(Love me love me love me, say you do)

Full capacity hard wake suck sainity I fake,
Not much more that I can take before I start to bend a break.
Burn the indian sky the sea, I blot out every memory,
And then I solemn vow I swear, I'll never ever ever fall again.


Full capacity hard wake suck sainity I fake,
Not much more that I can take before I start to bend a break.
Burn the indian sky the sea, I blot out every memory,
And then I solemn vow I swear, I'll never ever ever fall again.


Full capacity hard wake suck sainity I fake,
Not much more that I can take before I start to bend a break.
Burn the indian sky the sea, I blot out every memory,
And then I solemn vow I swear, I'll never ever ever fall again.

Snorty MacDougal - Art

So I tried to do something creative here with the gauzes from my surf incident. It didn't turn out as "elegant" as I had expected but I'm still pretty stoked with the concept of using it as the media.

Yes, I was going to sign it by affixing my hospital bracelet to it but the band was yellow and it just took away from the subtleness of the mosaic.

I just wanted to immortalize this because it made me experience blood in new ways. With my face all fucked the fuck up I lost all sensation (due to local anesthesia). It was weird because usually when people experience blood, they see it, they feel it. On the operating table, I wasn't aware of the blood dripping down my mouth and lips; I was only made privy of it when I tasted it on my tongue. And the only way I knew that essences of my life were cascading down my cheek was when my eye would become flushed with a blanket of red liquid.

Sensory deprivation in ways I never imagined.

Here's Sonny with the Surf Report

Just thought you guys would be interested in knowing what happened during my first week of being unemployed....

Date: 12/10/07 (yesterday)
Place: El Porto
Incident: On a wave, wave closed out, smacked me right in the face, fin hits my nose

I was on the wave, it smacked me on the face. Instantly, about half a pint of blood was lost. Saw another surfer and was like, "Shit, I broke my nose." However broken, I noticed that it felt all flappy (like a stingray) so I was a little concerned. Waved down the lifeguard and coincidentally he was the same
lifeguard that helped me when I got stung by a stingray (unlike a nose)!

Him: I remember your name. Didn't I help you with the stingray?
Me: Yes
Him: Let's hope this doesn't become a pattern
Me: I hope I never see you again. Tell you what though, if I do, next time I'm bringing you a fruitcake.

With no cashflow, I decided to drive myself to the ER rather than taking an ambulance, or a cab, or a rickshaw. There I am, in my truck and there's construction going on in the parking lot -- cement mixers and everything. Went out of my car, yelled at the foreman and ten minutes later I was on the road towards the hospital; clutching onto Noseagra Falls with my left hand and clutching onto the clutch with my left foot.

At the hospital, I waited three hours, in my wetsuit, full of sand and blood and water and bad hair and then the ER doc finally cleans up my nose (requiring 10 shots of local anesthesia). It was then that he deemed the injury to be a partial amputation and concludes that he can't handle the procedure. Therefore, I have to drive, in traffic, to Brentwood to go see a specialist.

The doctor sewed on over 25 stitches to my nose and now it's in a cast. Believe me when I tell you, SHIT HURT. They also took pictures of it (attached). I had about 16 more injections at this office (mouth, eye socket, about 10 more on the nose alone).

Cast is coming off tomorrow and I'll be able to go back into the water after a month. However, I'm done with surfing until I get full insurance again. What
else...uhhhh...oh yeah, ok, what's the bright side? (I'm praying for some pity lays).

Sexy scar? Nope, hideous. I was kind of hoping that the injury would mess up my tastebuds so that bacon would start to taste like vomit and brusselsprouts would begin to taste like Jessica Alba. Not that either. I'm still trying to unmask the blessing, but for now I will say that the best treatment for any ailment is the company and support of good friends.


That, my friends, comes with no copay