ok, so i’m doing this cd design for some kid out in TX somewhere (and no, he’s small) and would like some opinions. the guy hated the first one and thought the second was “so very AWESOME, wow… i mean WOW!”. please. just goes to show ya - people’s taste sucks. why don’t people ever trust us? the world would look so much better if everyone just trusted the marvelous collective dangit.

i had a really big roast beef sandwich. after that, i stood in line behind a woman with a big ass in a big grocery store that was next to a big shoe store. my friend was with me. i am staying in her big apartment. despite all this i just went to the bathroom to check something out for the 100th time, but to my dissapointment everythings NOT bigger in texas.

ding dong the rats are dead, the wicked rats, the wicked rats. ding dong the wicked rats are dead.

so they are finally gone. sort of. the poison i put out over a week ago finally did its job and those rat bastards are dead. but you must not forget that these were special rats, hipsterats, and in so being werent lacking in a sense of irony. how could rats have a sense of irony, you ask? well, for one, they are hipsterats and hipsters are always known by their strong sense of irony, whether it be voiced by a sarcastic quip or displayed via heat trasfer on a vintage tshirt. whats ironic is that while alive, the little guys would have vespa club rides in my walls and make all sorts of racket. because of this, (and the little poops they managed to leave everywhere) i wanted them dead. but now that they are dead, they stink. bad. there is one specific corner of my kitchen where death lives. and he has atrocious b.o.

the stench has given me reason to hunch over and into the crawl space below my house to do rat excavation and find the cause of the odor. so far ive been fairly succesful and pulled out 3 of those dead suckers, one of which was totally copping my style, wearing a vintage army surplus jacket, bellbottoms and thrift store threads. he was sportin chucks, too, the poseur. rat #3 was female, and had one of those awful hipster-chick self-cut hair-do’s. you know the ones with the bangs cut straight across so ridiculously high on the forehead? yeah, one of those. i hate that haircut. anyway, the tragedy in #3 wasnt just the poorly coiffed ‘do, but the fact that its offspring was still alive and trying to suckle from a dried out dead teet. awful, i know, but im not making this up.

i warned joey about this post. and its only going to get better.

so far the best has been john paul. i walked in on john paul while he was doing his best weekend at bernies impression in the middle of my kitchen floor. i dont know how long he’d been there, for i had been on spring break for a couple of days. as i gazed upon john paul a mason jar on my counter top caught my eye and a lightbulb went off. the mason jar could serve as a perfect hyperbaric chamber. so i got him to mambo on into the jar, sealed him up, and for the next few days he laid in state for viewing. see below:

a few days after lying in state, a miracle happened (john paul is wasting no time in making a case for sainthood). you see, john paul decided to come back from the grave to deliver a message of love and encouragement. or so i originally thought. as i approached the hyperbaric chamber in anticipation of wise words brought beyond the great divide i was quickly disappointed when he whispered into my ear, “screw you, jared. we were the hippest rats anywhere and you took it all away from us. you shall now pay for thy murderous behavior.”

here is a picture of me receiving what i thought was going to be a miraculous message of encouragement:

while his message wasnt all that prophetic (remember, the stench of death and already begun to pervade my home) it was a harbinger for my current frustration and a miracle, nonetheless. i mean, really, when do rats come back from the grave to deliver vengeful messages? never. thats why its a miracle.

so, in further action to combat the stench ive burned more incense than was burned in all the masses last week over at the vatican for that other john paul (some coincidence, huh?), and now my house is just nasty. oh, and add those smells to the apricot flavored glade plug-in that my neighbor put out in the hall and i got this potpouri of straight up funk. its lovely.

but you know what? i at least got to those hipsterats before they got to my little debbies, and thats all that matters. sing it high, sing it low, ding dong the hipsterats are dead.

…not because the pope died but because some bastard stole my road bike last night.

please send your condolences. a service will be held tuesday.

from a conversation joey and i had the other night:

me: last night, at one in the morning, i was sitting on my kitchen floor with a flashlight, drawers pulled out of my cabinet, shining the light into a little hole in the back near the floor, watching these little nasty furry rodents poke their nasty little heads out and sniff the air.

joey: hahahahha. rat bastards.

me: i bought some traps and some poison. one trap snapped, but no mouse.

joey: that’s so inhumane. i can’t believe you.

me: i got another type of trap that traps them in a clear box but wont kill them. it doesnt work either.

joey: what would you expect with a house full of junk?

me: youre right. it shouldnt come as a surprise. my place should be rat heaven.

joey: HIPSTERATS

me: yeah, hipsterats. thats great.

joey: are they wearing chuck taylors? sipping on lady grey tea?

me: one of them had on a scarf and bellbottoms. the other had tight jeans and a ramones t shirt.
they are so loud in the walls…i wonder if they are riding little vintage mouse bicycles in there?

joey: vespas.

me: yes!!! they are riding little vespas in my walls!

well. it’s been a while. i know all you out there have been refreshing this page for weeks waiting on this. so here it comes. at ya. i found some nice music to listen to. 2 records this week actually.

1. world leader pretend: finally came out with the EP for the upcoming album, “punches”. saw it on itunes and snabbed it immediately. the EP is “”rubble-rousing misspent bouts” and i don’t have a picture of it cause it’s so freaking hard to find any information on this band. could be because they named themselves after a dang R.E.M. song. anyways, give it a listen. if you’re too poor, i can donate to a good cause. cause you’re poor.

2. the dissociatives: yes. yes. another brilliant collaboration between a rocker and a button-pushing electronic mix-master. this time it’s daniel johns (you gonna wait too, fat boy, Fat boy-ee, wait til tomorrooooow) and some other guy from down under. mate. this is good stuff and the song “lifting the veil from the braille” should be added to your sunny-breezy-happy day playlist. note: this title is also available for the po-folks who need fresh-ear treats. here’s a picture…

until next time. keep the box clean. and don’t feed the other ends. and go to themarvelouscollective.com. and book us for some work. we’re po too!