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Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Heavy Metal

2-and-a-half year old Cole throwing the goat.

That's my boy. Posted by Picasa

The Room of Spencer

And to think, I just had him clean it the other day.

Notice "makeshift" drummer set in the left corner or the Ron Liberti signed rock poster above the bed. Posted by Picasa

What Is This?

Spencer art.

Skateboard tricks. Notice the movement of the arms or the guy second from right with the pink deck who is doing the ollie. Or maybe it's the first guy? Or maybe it's a sequence! Posted by Picasa


After my brother-in-law came over and assessed the damage, we took a trip to Home Depot for some roofing sealant slash caulk. Sealed the area around the exhaust piping and left the wet insulation to dry. Hope plywood dries out otherwise it'll need to be replaced. At least I didn't fall through the roof when I stood on it.

One More Time... Closer

I see many trips to Home Depot in my future...
and a headache the size of Texas. Posted by Picasa


This is what greeted me this morning in the bathroom my sons use. It used to be a little brown spot. Then we got three solid days of rain.

Happy, happy, joy, joy.

Guess I'll call the landlord.

Oh wait, I am the landlord, I own this place.

Shit. shit, double shit.

I think I'll take aliens up my nose over this type of home improvement.

And it's 38 degrees out. Posted by Picasa

The Aliens Are Coming

Or maybe they already came...

Had another mind blowing, yet harrowing, lucid dream last night.

This time I go to some weird compound lured by the guise of it being some family entertainment place a la Chuck E. Cheeses-meets-Seasame Street or something. Only once you get in there the kids are seperated from the adults. I have to go through these myriad of doors but they play it off funhouse funny like the beginning of Get Smart. At the last door I have to do some sort of light-in-the-eyeball ID check.

A mechanical woman's voice calls out your specs: "Greg Barbera, male, [there's some sort of escort waiting for me to enter and he says in unison w/ the voice], age 37."

I turn to him and say, "I've been here before. That's how you know."

He gives me a sheepish grin. I imagine they are going to up the dose on my amnesia meds this time. I now recall why my sinuses always hurt so bad, it's because the method they use to do whatever procedures they want to do involves entering via your nasal cavity. I shudder thinking about the pain of it all.

My recollection is patchy from here.

I know I took some sort of ferry to get to the place. But it was through the artic circle or some shit because all I remember is passing iceburgs and being frigidly cold and wondering where am I going because clearly there is no life here only to be greeted by some Mission District on ice neighborhood/city. Covered in 24hr darkness. Streetlight/car lights bouncing off the slushy, wet mess that seemed to be streets.