Archive for April 3rd, 2010


EYE SPY: weird $h!+

The other day I was walking my dog and I saw this woman loading all this junk into her car.

I had to stop and take a pic because no one was going to believe this.


RUDY’S MUSIC (Guitar Shop)

There’s a mAgiCal plaCe down in SoHo that some of you may or may not know of called “Rudy’s Music.”

If what you see below doesn’t inspire you to google and go visit this blog may not be for you because when I go back again and take pictures of the guitars inside…you might head for the hills 😉




(this short story is a work in progress. feedback is encouraged and appreciated.)


Imagine, for a second, that you’ve somehow slipped into a sleep that won’t be interrupted: a nightmare. A lucid nightmare to be exact.

Your being chased by black shadows with white, pupil-less eyes, huge white fangs and long, sharp, clear and claw-like fingernails on their hands and feet.

Imagine this was going to take place for an hour (of pure terror) because your not going to be disturbed during your dream.

And you panic. And you run down a street that turns into a forest. And you run as fast as you can. And it’s darker there – so dark that the white on the shadows become more visible and start to multiply because there’s more of them in the forest. And you want to scream but you’re afraid that if you make noise you might alert others and your chances of escape will quickly become impossible. And you want to stand and fight for your life, knowing this is “your” nightmare but there’s so much white running after you every time you look over your shoulder that thinking you can defeat them all is useless. So you keep running – heart desperately trying to break its way out of your chest and breath escaping your lungs as if you’ve just smoked all the cigarettes in the world at once. But you keep running. You run until that forest turns into a cave. You run until the cave turns into a fire escape and you find your way into an apartment with no lights and no running water (and you’re dying of thirst) and the window you came through turns into a brick wall and suddenly everything else turns into brick and begins rapidly coming toward you.

And you try to wake up because, again, this “is” your nightmare but you can’t. And you finally try to scream but your voice crawls out of your throat and falls to the brick floor. It, too, is a shadow and it screams at you – not for you – shrieking at the top of its own lungs. And the brick walls keep closing in on you and the voice keeps shrieking louder and louder until your ears bleed. And the walls keep closing in and the shrieks grow louder. And then…

right before the walls cave in on you, right before the shrieks drive you insane, you glance down at your hands – black with white, clear and claw-like fingernails and realize that you’ve been running from yourself all along. And the walls stop closing in on you. And the shrieks mute. And you wake up.

No longer in denial and a little less addicted.

April 2010
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