Response.

Well at least you're not Jewish. Christmas is literally the most boring day of the year. Everyone is busy with their families, every restaurant is closed, and there are only 10 songs on the radio. Bah humbug.

Explanation of Video

That's what they say when they get their presents. I like it. Think its funny. But I have to hear it a lot. At least it's not fuck you.

Merry Christmas

Holidays without getting fat. Still hitting the bag, pumping the rope. I'll be spending Christmas with my cousins from East Texas. Thank youuuu.

Performance Video: Starry Globes & Stereos

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Performance Video: How Do You Make Movies / Kickstand Woman

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Performance Video: Jump Blues

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Finished

I've finished our manifesto. It's called -
Mysteries of the Planet Kürr:
An Introduction to the Customs and People of the 8th planet
Orbiting the Great Star (Betelgeuse)

And it explains everything. Soon it will be up on the site. I transferred from hard copy and it took a long time. Suits, space travel, tess, the space punk starlet, home planet Kürr, and Betelgeuse. Everything.

Ushering in a new generation of rockstars.

- B

Drinking Problems and Gay Bar, Part 2

I can't remember the name. The place was loud and crowded. A lot of girls were there, and they didn't look like lesbians. Believe me, I can spot a lesbian. Or maybe I can't. I've had a lot of crushes on girls that look like lesbians. That one girl, she turned me onto Townes Van Zandt. Short hair but raging, shapely breasts. And she didn't even feel the need to advertise. I could've loved her. She was a lot of female.

A contest was going on. Guys were dancing around on stage, all with underwear on. The one with the most cheers and applause won, that's how it worked. I don't know what the prize was. I cheered for the short guy, the homely looking one. He looked nervous. I gave him huge applause, but he lost. The place was fun. The people weren't dull. They seemed to have guts and vigor.

By this point I was trashed. The perfect time to consume my tequila, my precious treasure and souvenir, had arrived. I still don't know why I showed it to the bartender. The impulse, a mystery. Maybe I was so proud and happy, I wanted to share my joy. The son of a bitch took it from me, but calmly. He just nodded and smiled and reached out and took it. I was fucking devastated. I thought about kneeling down below eye level and sneaking around the bar to get it, but the bar had a little door that was locked. The only way to retrieve it was to climb over the table.

After the bartender dissuaded me from fully  traversing the bar ( I was halfway), I got real mean, verbally so. He said he was gonna call the cops. I kept waiting about thirty seconds and then asking if I could buy a drink. He didn't forget like I thought. Insulting this prick, I didn't go for the typical stingers. He's been called every gay expletive in the book. That shit is useless. I called him all kinds of animals, like he was a damn hyena, a fucking poodle or smelly feral hog. I flicked him off. I called him over to flick him off. I said, fuck you!

The bouncer, who came up to about my chin, was called to kick me out. He said I needed to leave. I told them I wasn't leaving with him, he was ugly and scrawny and I wasn't interested. Then he said he was the bouncer. I laughed it up, right in his face. He went to grab my arm. I yielded. Perhaps in the back, there were large, ripped, mean, gay bouncers just waiting for me to give their little brother some shit.

He was a good door guy, I guess. At least he didn't beat me up. I was drunk. He probably could have. He was just firm with his intentions. I would have smashed him had I not been drunk and we had a suitable venue to do combat in. That will never happen. It was a fun night.

The Frontier Brothers on Rock Remedy: Part 5 (The Last Part)

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Drinking Problems and Gay Bar, Part 1

I need to cut down on drinking, just a little bit. Or maybe not drinking, but the circumstances which provide the impetus to drink. Like going out to bars- I realized why I drink a lot. Despite the fact that bars are for drinking, I had a moment of self-discovery today that clarified the situation for me. In public, I'm uncomfortable. The nagging horniness of unwanted celibacy and other things, they make me feel uncomfortable. So to cure that I drink. If the place sucks and the people are boring and they think I'm boring too, I'll drink. I just can't be in public anymore. I don't drink in my room, usually I read or fuck around on mma websites and noodle guitar.

Last night I got kicked out of a gay bar. I don't feel like it was deserved. I had this mini bottle of tequila I bought in California on the last tour. I never drank it there, and since then I carried it with me all the time. I was waiting for the right time to drink it, a really special time. Everything had to be perfect. I decided that time was right last night. We went to this thing called Hillel, a jewish party where you could get free alcohol. I'm still not sure why they serve alcohol, being a religious organization, but fuck it, one more thing I like about jews.

Then we went to their bar tab at a bar called Peckerheads. Astoundingly, that was not the gay bar. It was lame. I talked infrequently to a nice girl. She moved on to some guy with a weird, pristine goatee. I'm positive he was ugly. Made me feel great. Naturally, I was wasted when we left that shit stain. The two other guys wanted to hit a gay club. I thought, why not. Maybe I'll get hit on there and it will improve my self-confidence.

The Frontier Brothers on Rock Remedy: Part 4 (Crotch Talk)

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Part 3, Wednesday

Part 3, Wednesday

The cake confidence and the time with Rob makes me want to talk to girl sitting ahead of me. I'm on the train from ft. worth to austin. Usually it's late. Today it was on time and I was surprised. It must have something to do with the recession. No one rides it anymore and the railways are empty of freight trains. The ride is a peach. I love junk and nasty parts that you try and pick up and when you can't lift them you take a step back and through a big rock at them. Out the windows are endless backyards, all shitted out, all maintained by poor people - spurned, dirty animals outside and little toys you can make out well, even as you pass by rather quickly.
The girl has the most white shoulders and they look soft. She seems absorbed in a book. She is missing the scenery. Also she has freckles around the back that I can make out in her reflection against the window, spots I might know were I to attempt a simple act of courage. I'm thinking about just touching her quickly; she would be angry. Doesn't she understand anything? Doesn't she know that I have a friend back home confined to bed and that many people showed up to a show where I played instruments and that I spilled lots of beer on stage. She should; it's a pity.

But I know she is kind, just looking at her. You can see that in some people right off the bat, like the air around them is warmer and the noises nice and soft on the ears and you want to be their friend. Standing beside them, nearness is like the heat of a fire. You want to huddle around them like you would a fire.

The Frontier Brothers on Rock Remedy: Part 3 (The One In Which We Talk Porn Star Names)

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The Frontier Brothers on Rock Remedy: Part 2

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Part 2, Monday and Tuesday

I spent most of my time back in Fort Worth shooting up shit at gun ranges and hanging out with my friend Rob. He got in nasty reck about four weeks back and is now in a wheel-chair, numb from about the top of the chest down. When I first saw him, his legs twitched and I was ready to call a miracle. Turns out it's just feedback loop of some sort. The signal goes back and forth between the injured chord and the legs, forever and seemingly at random. Rob says that eventually he'll be a able to predict when they spasm and it will help him move around better.

His hands work, though, his arms and everything above the chest. But the core is dead, unresponsive. Only his shoulders and arms heave all that bulk around. I asked him what he thought about his lower extremities atrophying, whether it was sad to him, like it was going away forever. But no, he said, it was better, the stuff was getting lighter and easier to move around. Rob sticks to practicalities because he has to. There's certainly time to reflect on the symbolism of atrophying legs and glutes, but no real reason. And I realized that none of this shit is me, not my legs or arms or balls - they're willing servants until they fall out of contact. Because Rob is quite the same, he is still here. It made me wonder, where exactly was he?
Anyway, he kicked my ass at Call of Duty 5 and we shot the shit. Rob is a calm soul enveloping like smoke a terrible luck and making it slowly disappear.

The Moon, Saturday, and Rock and Knowing how far

Part 1, Saturday

Saturday was one of the those moments that appear like sign posts telling you you've gotten somewhere. For most of my life, I've been in the band next door, getting claps from only my close friends and going on early, barely filling up the floors of a venue too large for us. That's the worst feeling, almost as depressing as huge, new stores with plenty of employees standing empty, everybody with nothing to do. And you get a needle in the chest, of sympathy, when an employee eagerly seeks you out, desperate.

But that was not The Frontier Brothers saturday, not at all. We were the band on the other side of the divide, that, although seemingly miniscule to most, is extremely difficult to pass successfully. We were the guys with the crowd, the kind that piss you off when you first start a band - how did they get there?
The Moon, respectable and medium sized. Fitted probably 120 people. We had lines out the door. Some of our friends had to wait thirty minutes in the cold. I regret that. But it sure did make me feel good. This pride was like my first slice of cake and I always want more when dealing with real cake, it's so good, but mostly I prefer pies, like pecan, pumpkin, and apple cinnamon pie. The only cake I enjoy is black forest cake from Swiss Pastry Shop on vickery. Soon it will be gone. They're building a highway. The reason I don't like much cake is because of the icing, it's piled on too thickly. At birthday parties when I was younger I'd end up with big globs of icing on my plate because I scraped it off to get to the cooked batter part.
So I'll get more of this pride cake and for that we must play more shows, more and more and more and more shows, everywhere.

The Frontier Brothers on Rock Remedy: Part 1

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