D Stands for Dumb

Hiding weed in my bra hasn’t always worked out for me. For one concert I volunteered to keep two bags of medicinal marijuana in my bust. By the time we got to the show, there was only one left. I was convinced the missing bag was still in the car. Why wouldn’t I feel it falling out of my bra and down my shirt? Well, that was almost 2 years ago, and it was only until yesterday that I finally believed it could have fallen out of my shirt without me having noticed it. The scene – Tori Amos at Concord Pavillion. This time I hid my cumbersome glass pipe with a filled bowl in the boobies.

As we approached the ticket gate and the first round of security guards, I turned to say good-bye to a few friends. I hear a ‘clink’, but think nothing of it, and keep blabbering. They say, “hey miss curious… um, look at the ground.” I looked down only to see my pipe resting there on the ground. I look at it. I look at the security guards. I look at the people next to me, behind me, all looking at my pipe there… on the ground. I gasp. Reach down for it, and in a panic, stuff it back into my D cups. Everyone saw me. They knew I knew they saw me. My friend recommended I tuck in my shirt. I did. I got into the venue. Safely.

And how do I just not feel a glass pipe falling down my shirt? It’s not like that time in 8th grade where I stuffed a pad in my pocket, and it fell onto the ground and I didn’t notice it until I kicked it over to this guy I used to flirt with. But anyway, things fall out of pockets and at times go unnoticed, until well, you hear the sound of the pad skidding across the payment... but out of the bra, down the stomach and out of the shirt - unnoticed? I have to think that these incidents point to the same conclusion… I’m clueless. Hm.

Thank God:

Thank God I’m slowly learning to accept that my wife Midge has taken a perhaps permanent vacation from me. I guess two people can’t be attached at the hip forever. Why can’t they be? Fucking God again… always making things difficult… causing miscommunications and altercations as a result… having us do a, “well, I thought that meant you didn’t want me to come over,” and “I thought you just didn’t want to come over…” I spin it this way… he spins it that… I’m right – he’s right – we’re both wrong… insecurities… blah blah blah… and maybe 2 and half years of cubie-mates and after school stoner-mates has taken its toll… but there was a lotta’ love and there still is. Yes, I’m cheesey.

Hightlights of An Epic Tori Amos Show... and oh, Can you Imagine a world where no artist sings fucking Imagine? I just can't Imagine it... love Tori, used to like Imagine, but now I can't Imagine Imagine not being covered a million times by a million different artists:

“Here we go again
These little earthquakes
Doesn't take much to rip us into pieces…
Give me life
Give me pain
Give me myself again”

Little Earthquakes

"On the other side of this
This mole hill of a mountain
This potion now a poison
They're on the other side of right
We're on the other side of her midnight...
So baby will you let my darkness invade you...
I am piecing a potion
To combat your poison
She is risen
She is risen
Boys I said she is risen"

Barons of Suburbia

"strange
thought i knew you well
thought i had read the sky
thought i had read a change in your eyes
strange woke up to a world that i am not a part
except when i can play
it's stranger after all
what were you really looking for
and i wonder when will i
learn blue isn't red
everybody knows this..."

Strange