Evil Cat of Hell

The Five Point: Forging Friends and Reputations Since 1929

Mysterious epistle Found in Pocket scrawled on crumpled bar napkin:

'Summer Breeze....Makes Me Feel Fine....rollin' through the Jazmin in my mind'.

A song for December in a wicked city on a day when the grey sky through the bar window is flocked with crows and the fortune of good company combined with hard luck is enough to break your heart, and will. Once it was about sidewalks and rain on glass, now its about the gleam of a bar and ashes accumulating like drifts of snow. Beer Shines in glasses and so do you. Smoke curls with the whisper of luck dragons and long days and I do feel lucky. There are mornins when a good experiment will become the stuff of dreams and legends. Muscle relaxants, mini skirts, bmx. Marbs and Carbs a side of toast on indefinite hold.  The friends I've know take their place in my pantheon, and I draw mental Icons of the ones I love. St. Kathleen racked up with the dictators of the communist realm, Tom Watis on a devotional candle, and all my pack of of wild dogs spinning burning empires with their degenerate enthusiasm. The best question ever posed in epic music: 'Where do we go from here?' To the edge of the world where the bones are piled like pick-up sticks, and our hearts shine on like rainy seattle skies...dark and singing with limitless abandon. My angels have are not gone, they wait in the wings.

gratuitous nudity and violence...sweet....

music: Kyuss
beverage: very black coffee
Yeah, so sorry for the lame totally Chuck II post last night. As I may have mentioned my computer needs a breathelyzer. The post itself must be rather depressing, but you all would have laughed if you could have seen how long it took me to type it. Also I myself am rather amused that even in my darkest moments of despair I somehow manage to work in references to Julius Caeser and the Sopranos? If I ever write a suicide note, I'm sure it will be chock full of amusing pop cultural references....So you come to the site looking for boobs, and instead you get Lydia Deets sitting in the dark mutter 'My Life is a Dark Room, One big...Dark Room'. Well you got boobs too, so don't complain. About the boobs....If you are not up to date on your Fodon  (whicht you probably are, because who the fuck else reads this?) there is an agenda behind the boobs. Its not just random exhibitionism, I swear. Its random manipulative exhibitionism. But maybe exhibitionism is always manipulative on some level...hmm...deep....The hippies would lynch me for that one. Anyway the point I'm getting to is that abviously the anatomist and I can not match Fodon's beautiful rack (I believe at least 20 minutes of bloody tuesday was comprised of me and the anatomist trying to explain to snowball what a nice rack Fodon has...the conversation went something like this
anatomist: no seriously, you need to get on line and look at this picture
snowball: will you guys shut up about your stupid blogs. I know Fodon has a nice rack.
anatomist: well yeah, I knew Fodon had a nice rack too, but Fodon in a t-shirt doesn't really give you any idea of HOW nice a rack
evil cat of hell: yeah, they're like so perfect and creamy
anatomist: and shiny.....
evil cat of hell: yeah, and shiny....
nice use of the parenthesis huh? actually i don't know what the fuck we were talking about with the whole Shiny thing. whatever, we were drunk. I think, like crows, we just like shiny things so by drunken rationale decide that all things we like are shiny. could that be it?) , but we figured by squeezing two of us into the frame we could make the spectacle slightly more impressive. And I'm not trying to be self deprecating. I think the anatomist and I both have very nice racks, their just not FODON nice. But yes, I am Chuck II retarded.
And fucking Chuck Bukowski hungover.  After leaving the anatomists we stopped off at the Five Point to get 'a' beer and ended up being hit on by these two nasty guys. Because they were of no interest to me conversationally I got in one of my classic drunken lying moods and told them that Snowball and I grew up side by side in a trailer park in Sitka Alaska. One of the guys was accusing Snowball of being racist (god knows what she said) to which I replied 'how can she be racist. I'm her best friend and I'm NATIVE'.
God, I am awesome.  Then Snowball's new 'friend' Dan showed up and we tried to escape and move to a different booth. Just as we were sitting down, both the guys lept on Dan and tried to kick the shit out of him.
It happened insanely fast. Dan is a pretty big guy and managed to throw a couple of punches before the bartender threw the guys out. I think this is the first real bar fight I've ever seen, which is kind of suprising actually. Dan got fucked with pretty bad. His teeth were all bloody. All I could think was jesus, I'm glad it was Dan and not one of our grand array of more defenseless guy friends.
The sick thing is that I kind of got a kick out of the whole incident. Some part of me is thrilled with violence. I remember one time Josh ended up punching this crackhead who called me a stupid cunt or something, and I actually really enjoyed watching the incident. I thought it was kind of sexy or something. I don't know if this is just because violence is sort of a novelty in my wussy northwestern life, or what. Evergreen would probably have me blame 'cultural conditioning' or the media (when it doubt always blame the media) but maybe its more animalistic than that. Interesting to note anyway.
Maybe its just because on some level I really am rediculously old fashioned and think that (in addition to buying me large bouquets of expensive flowers and pitchers of beer) I think guys really should kick ass on my behalf. This is a rather amusing revelation when I think back on some of my exes. I can just see Mark Morgan (aka Mitch Kramer)  getting in a fight to defend my honor. That my freinds, would be funny.

the five point vs. blogs

Well I have two testaments to my ultimate nerdiness: I have been feeling very guilty all weekend for not posting, and for not commenting on anyone else's weblogs. Rather guilty in the way you might feel if you missed a dinner engagement because you were drunk at the five point (oh wait, that happened too...). I do feel as though I've been neglecting my friends....you know, devoting too much time to life offline and neglecting my true calling as a huge cracked out geek. The good thing about being a huge cracked out geek is that it is much cheaper than getting drunk at the five point, and doesn't induce projectile vomitting (not me, thankyou, but my friend Thirsty-that wuss) or the need to consume large quantities of excedrin or that feeling where you wake up in the morning and make all sorts of promises to yourself ammounting to the effect that for the rest of your life henceforth you are going to do nothing but read books like Anne of Green Gables while drinking tea, occasionally taking a break to clean your room and call your grandmother.
The other testament two my nerdiness is that I woke up this morning feeling melencholy and hopeless (low dopamine levels, I imagine) and my first impulse was to check up on what everyone has been writing because I knew somehow it would make me feel better. yeah, so that's my online love letter to Austin Rich, the anatomist, Fodon, motopsycho,unhinged, and Kat.
more later,
love,
EVIL CAT OF HELL

Thirsty?

In the words of my roommate Dirtrock
"If Logic was a beer then we'd be fuckin' rubics cubes". Yeah, try that one on for size. That was yesterday's quote. As for today's quote, I refer to my friend and morning winner Who Dong Hide, otherwise known as Thirsty...."God, I hate the way Jameson tastes right after I brush my teeth'.