Thursday, September 27, 2007

Letter to Cindy From Anonymous

Photo by Carrie Thomas

Dear Cindy,

I'm sorry I killed your kitten. I know you thought I was a responsible individual, but you were sadly mistaken. I am working on reforming my evil ways and discontinuing my use of power tools without adult supervision.
I am taking an anger management class and I have cut out coffee and food items that contain high fructose corn syrup. I have been working with the local ashram where they have taught me humility, vegetarian cooking and the child's pose. I am also volunteering my time at the local hospital where they care for the crack babies.
I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive a wayward sinner who forgot that murder is wrong.
I am studying all 9 of the 10 commandments because really, George Carlin was right. They should be condensed.
I promise I will not kill anymore kittens.
I have found Jesus.
I hope that you too have found the lord.
He is the eternal light.
My boyfriend has also found jesus and swears that he will not help me kill anymore kittens, but he still has special "wrong" feelings towards my very ghetto booty. I also have these feelings, but we pray together in our bed before we sleep. I find the sweet release and comfort that only another man can give me.


Praise the lord


Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Wash Away(excerpt)-Lyrics

Photo by Carrie Thomas

It's gonna be OK, K
cuz you got me
and I'll build a boat for us both to float
up above the city.
We ain't got much time.
Grab a bottle of wine
and some strings for my guitar
cuz the trip is kinda far.

Are you ready for
the water to wash away
our sins?

We can find an island
and we can start again.
You just gotta believe.

Friday, September 21, 2007

Absolute Diversion

Here is a little clip from Absolutely Fabulous to send you stumbling into your weekend.

Tossed in a Sea of Dreams

Photo by Carrie Thomas & Manipulated by Robert German

Last night I went to bed at a decent hour,
something that hasn't happened in a long time.
I found myself tossed in a sea of dreams, all so vivid.

Dreams are important for proper functioning of the mind and body.
I haven't been having dreams for a couple of weeks now. I was talking in my sleep. I woke myself up a couple of times. Apparently I met a friend of K's from Arizona and woke him up to tell him that she says hi. K does not have a friend in Arizona, btw.

I have posted sticky notes above my desk with song titles on them. They form this semi-deformed smiley face. At the top where the eyes and top of the nose would be are completed/mostly completed tracks. Where the tongue would stick out are the tracks that need the most work.

I find that I am looking for balance and focus. I am determined to finish the album by Christmas.

There has been a major change on the homefront. It is called a VCR. I know, shocking. Next thing you know we'll be buying an electric typewriter with correcting ribbon. K bought it for $30 and last night I was thrilled to watch episodes of Absolutely Fabulous on an old VCR Tape. There is something about the slightly degraded quality that appealed to me. The world has become too airbrushed and Hi Def for my tastes. It is comforting to adjust the tracking to watch the softer shifting focus of the picture.

I was happy with getting grainy educational television with the bunny ears I bought for $2 at Phat Albert's. Now I will be spoiled by the luxury of my fancy VCR tapes.
K wants to get cable. I fear that it will turn me into another unproductive zombie staring at a screen for hours. As I stare at the computer screen, typing these words I wonder if that is not already the case.

Our Fearless Leader Trudges Forward

At this point, can George Bush really do anything to shock or surprise us? Though We've grown almost numb to the countless atrocities he's committed not only against humanity but through his misguided usage of the English Language, I still thought it necessary to give you a recap of our fearless leaders recent actions.

Bush optimistic about economy (He's the only one, by the way) and unrealistic about his own understanding of how the economy works. Thank You Queerty.

Nelson Mandela is not dead, despite George Bush's rather misinformed claim that he was killed by Saddam Hussein. You can't make this stuff up people. This is the wack job running our country.

Bush signs the "Protect America" act.
Just a side note, presidential hopeful and opponent to gay marriage, Hillary Clinton, whose husband signed both Don't ask Don't Tell and DOMA into law after heavily courting the gay vote,voted in favor of this little piece of legislation which is basically like pissing on the 4th ammendment to the US Constitution.

Oh and just for fun...
Canadians liken Bush to the new Saddam Hussein.

Thursday, September 20, 2007

Strange Diversion

With all the talk about the decline of Britney Spear's career, as if it is some tragic loss, I like to ponder truly talented artists who made valuable contributions to the shape and beauty of the tonal landscape.

Recently, we lost the most recognizable face in Opera, Luciano Pavarotti,
Less than a year after saying goodbye to "The Hardest Working Man in Showbiz," the incomparable James Brown.

Here is a strange but beautiful duet and the perfect tribute to these two great performers.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007

Missing K

Picture taken in Delaware while vacationing with Mr. Carpentier

Our schedules are so out of Wack that I feel like I barely see K anymore, and when I do I am at that place where I am fighting the urge to sleep, not because K isn't interesting but rather the fact that it is past midnight. There are rumors that this state of affairs is temporary, so I will cling to hope like a fatty clinging to her last strip of bacon....mmm...Bacon. There is a full package in the fridge. I can't wait to eat it.

Tuesday, September 18, 2007


Photo by Carrie Thomas

I went into the studio on Saturday and did some backing vocals and additional guitars for Throw That Box as well as some drumming.

Fall has begun to creep into my bones. I cling to K at night as the cold air crawls through the window by our bed like an intruder. He is a very functional furnace.

Next weekend is the Coney Island Film Festival.(Thank You Anonymous)

I feel a little sad today. I'm not sure why.

My phone is ringing. I'm pretending I don't hear it.

The air is heavy.

This day is long.

I think I may buy some yarn and start making a scarf.

I've been stockpiling canned goods.
I used 2 cans of beans.
This stresses me out.
It's a constant task to keep things
as they should be.
I want to be prepared when the bombs start to fall.

I feel like that lady who was screaming
and handing out pamphlets in the subway about
9-11 and the government plot behind it.
She actually sounded pretty sane to me,
though she should have printed her rantings in a larger font.
8 point is hard to read, especially as the train is shifting.

They really should modernize the subway. It's falling apart.
Laura killed a cockroach in my bathroom. Soon, there will be more. She made muffins for my cracked out neighbor who now refers to me as "The Boss Man."

The water has started leaking again. It sounds like it is raining inside the wall.
I have wavering opinions about the man upstairs and his plot to drive me crazy. Of course, I kid.

Friday, September 14, 2007

Water & Gossip

It is the water I am often drawn to.
I ended a sentence with a prepostion.
The water pulls me in.
I did it again.
God help me in both regards.

Sometimes I wade, though sometimes I fall into the water.
When falling is the case near to death laced, I find
branches extended, befriended by
strangers after shows
where lord knows I was ready to quit.

To give this up completely.
Do you really think I enjoy giving everything I have to give to you?
Yes, I do, in fact.
It is where I find my joy.
I deploy my songs like boats and hope they will
float to finally find you, crying or trying to cry
even though you find you can't.
I rant. That is why you're here.
So this is it, a bit of ranting for your eyes
to explore. Give me more more more, you may ask
or perhaps you don't care. It was the antidepressants, I swear
not the beer or the chips that made my highheels slip.
Are the sequens too tight? Are you ready to bite?

I will reach for the branch and think perchance that friendship is the course.
Give the poor girl a break. She just had two kids and she's going through a divorce.

This is what happens when you F___ with Nature

I fear that movies such as The Fly, Jurasic Park and Species have taught us nothing. Listen people,When you F--- with nature, nature F---S back.

-Killer Bees Descend on
New Orleans-

(as if they didn't have enough to worry about)
Read the Article

-Scientists Engineer Salmon
to Give Birth To Trout-

(Associated Press article)

The christian right is so worried about gay marriage, calling it unnatural and against god. I personally think salmon giving birth to trout is much more of a crime against all that's holy than gentleman of the man-on-man persuasion tying the knot and taking it up the pooper. Who's with me?

I think Seedless Watermellon is an abomination against god and nature. I am horrified by its existence and go through a traumatic experience everytime I buy watermellon, finding it almost impossible to buy the seeded variety.

Here at the rant we're not afraid to tackle the real issues.

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

You're A Racist

I sure do love me some Strangers With Candy. This weekend I spent some quality time with K and Laura. We watched an episode of SWC, the one about racism. If you haven't seen the show, then you are missing out on one of the most brilliant programs to fill the tube.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

More on the Festival of Coney, Film that is.

As mentioned previously, my first music video is an official selection of the 2007 Coney Island Film Festival. The schedule has just been posted.

It will be showing Sunday, Sept. 30th, closing out a series of shorts that start at 1pm. at
1208 Surf Ave.
(more info)

Thursday, September 06, 2007

Robert Recommends

I cannot say enough good things about Fage(pronounced Fa-yeh not Faggy)
Total Greek Yogurt.

It is creamy and wonderful. It makes me happy. I eat it plain, as a subsitute for sour cream or even better mixed with fruit, honey and swiss muesli. I even made french toast and put in on top as a whipped cream replacement. People, you have no idea. This stuff makes me go almost as crazy as I go for the Greek.

Wednesday, September 05, 2007

Selling Out-Lyrics

You took the words right out of my mouth.
You saved me the trouble of having to spit them out.
You broke the ice to pour your drink
to break my heart.

Falling in love is easy as breathing
falling out is the hard part.
Now I am crying and I am rolling in the trash.
I'm one more day...I'm one more drink away from selling my ass.

and Who do you think will buy
when I am selling out?

There is beauty in destruction
in the act of reconstruction
in the art of healing scars
and I've sat on 42nd street
and the passing of the strangers' feet
gave the beat to my guitar

I am not a common bum,
but I can sing and I can strum
and turn your change into a meal.

one step from being homeless,
fucked up but never hopeless
Is this the way you feel?

Whose gonna pick me up...put a dime in my paper cup
when I have fallen, fallen down.

Though it wasn't all that fun
I can say I've walked a mile in a beggar's shoes.
I think that in this city you can't find a better family
than the family that you choose.

You're my friends and my lovers
in and out of the covers
You're the ones that I hold dear.
You sit and listen when I'm singing
answer the phone when it is ringing
use your sleeves to dry my tears.

and you'll be the ones backstage
and in the seat of my escalade
Dinner's on me, I paid.
when I am selling, not selling out.

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Thank You

Thank You to the Soupy Gato Show for featuring Before You Go and Well Formed Man on the latest Podcast.

Lotsa Love,


Biscuits,Paddleboats and 2am Riots

Photo of the Prospect Park Boathouse by Carrie Thomas

K and I decided to host a brunch on Sunday at the apartment. Actually, I guess I coerced K into being my accomplice, but he didn't seem to mind.

As a tribute to the art of procrastination, we found ourselves at the local pathmark at 2am, waiting in line. I needed this cheese grater very badly, but when we were checking out, the girl couldn't find a code for it, so she refused to sell it to us. It was extraordinarily traumatic and at that point I was seeing double. After arguing with her, we left pathmark loaded up like pack mules, mutually exhausted, and lacking the much needed cheese grater.
We dropped to sleep exhausted and woke up too late, scurrying and hurrying to make ourselves and the apartment presentable for our guests.

Our feast was prepared in record time.
As, I tend to do with such things, I went a little overboard.
There was fruit salad, miniature fritata with mushroom,spinach, tomato and Gruyere Cheese. There were home fries,biscuits,bacon and sausage.

We ran around like headless chickens getting everything ready, but we both love the domestic bliss that comes with cooking up some love in the kitchen.

We had a lovely brunch with Steve, Matt, Marc and the lovely Danielle Flores who is gracing our city with her presence at the moment. I'm sure LA is a sad place without her, but we aren't complaining.

After brunch had ended we build a mountain of dirty plates in the kitchen and admired their grandeur before flooding them in suds to soak.

We decided to head over to the park and visit the Audubon center. Whilst crossing a bridge we noticed a lovely Hispanic family riding a paddle boat. We decided that we just simply must also ride a paddle boat. Despite standing feet away from the boathouse, we had no clue as to where we might rent said paddle boat, so we ran along the shore yelling at the family, trying to find out where they got their boat.

Seeing as the family only spoke Spanish, this was a fruitless task. I learned in the process that having a last name like Flores does not mean you necessarily know Spanish. What a disappointment. We finally discovered that we could rent a paddle boat at the boathouse, an idea that was too obvious to be fact.

We got our boat after waiting for an hour and traversed the waters of Prospect park. It was great to see the swan family that K and I have been watching for months. The babies have gotten so big.

I had a very intense discussion with a Canadian goose, which decided to swim along side us quacking at me while I quacked back. At one point, it was decided that I was upsetting the goose and should refrain from talking to it. With hesitation, I bid my feathered friend adieu and focused on my paddling.

after returning the paddle boat, I discovered that my legs had turned to jello and that the only solution was to drink a margarita. I'm not sure that it was the only solution, but I'm going to keep telling myself that it was necessary after slaving in the sun, paddling ms. Flores around like a goddess. All she needed was a parasol to make it a perfect day.

We hung out with Danielle and Laura for the rest of the evening, walking home after hanging in Park Slope. Walking by the park we passed an army of hundreds of NYPD officers lined up as if they were preparing for war. It was the West Indian Parade the next day. I had been told that things get crazy, but I had no idea. We went to bed thinking nothing of it.

At 2am, the sound of a marching band and drums came pounding through our windows. We stepped outside to see hundreds and hundreds of Caribbeans running through the streets screaming and waving flags from their respective islands. It was as if every single building and opened its doors and flooded the street with people. There was something beautiful and unsettling about it. We ran back inside and hid, not exactly sure if this was supposed to be happening, not exactly sure if the police were going to start beating people. We finally fell asleep to the sound of drums. I woke at 4am to hear a similar sound to the 2am commotion, but decided to ignore it. I woke again at 10:30 and made myself a quick breakfast of toast and jam before rushing out the door to be at the studio by 12.

I was surprised to see that the streets were calm and quiet as though nothing had happened. I walked to the subway with tribal drums in my head. Upon arriving to the studio I began to record a beat by hitting my stomach layered with hand claps. Something primal from the early morning energy had found its way to my soul.

Labor Day

I celebrated Labor Day by spending 6 hours in the studio working on Throw That Box.
It's still a little rough, but I'm excited about where this track is going. All the guitar is recorded. I did these hand claps and some stomach drumming and recorded the lead vocal as well as the backing vocals for one section.

Sunrise at the Speakeasy is nearing the halfway point.
It is of a grander scale, lusher and more textural than Sirens of Brooklyn.
I played tracks for my friend Danielle who is visiting from LA. She said that the album seems very Melancholy to her, yet more focused and deliberate,more self assured.
She is probably right.
It is darker and less timid.

Throw That Box-Lyrics

Photo by Carrie Thomas

He didn't even turn his head
when I walked in the door.
He didn't help me unpack the groceries,
didn't hear the pickle jar hit the floor.

I don't live to cook your dinner and
I don't live to give you head.
Just keeps staring at the box
and he ain't heard a word I've said.

I wanna throw that box
throw it out the window
throw that box
throw it out the door
throw that box
throw it out the window.
We don't need,
We don't need that box anymore

Cuz You've been leaving for work too early
and you've been coming home too late
and I've been spending way too much time
between the kitchen and your plate.
In that time I've been lookin' out the window
seems there's a lot out there for me to see.
So You can fix your own gravey.
You can fold your own laundry, baby.
You will get by fine without me.
Cuz I need someone who will hold me close,
hold me and never let me go.

So go on, sit down in your easy chair
flip through the channels, I don't care
see if you can find yourself a better show.

The Bundle of Joy

Yes, I am cheesey. Here is a picture of the most precious little thing in the world, my nephew. He's even got blonde hair and blue eyes. Since I'm not yet responsible enough to adopt my own little chinese baby, I must live vicariously through my sister.

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