not my shirt

I do not own the shirt pictured at the left:
mine is obviously blue.
duh.

we gave it 110%

and it paid off.

throwing a party is a funny thing. mounds of energy and prep, worries and woes all spent to make sure the thing goes off without a hitch. smoke and mirrors to set up, refreshments to round up, costumes and make up.

then the hour comes.
and nobody comes.

ah yes, fashionably late, nothing to worry about.

and they came, oh did they come. eventually they all came; werewolves and pop stars, brandcenter logos and umas.

and it was a party.



there was dancing and chaos and blood and nakedness. pots of beer and cake all smeared. round and round and round we went until someone blurted that the kegs had run dry and the juice was no more.

and still we went round.

and then we were in the street. and all our friends were going home. somehow. toilets and beds were calling their names. and daylight.

there would be no dreaming tonight. all that magic had already been spent.















you stay classy, brandcenter.

et tu, Carrie?

the evolution of relationships is a puzzling thing. romantic ones are difficult enough to unravel, but platonic ones? how do you know if your casual internet buddy has graduated to full fledged BFF status?? and is the feeling always mutual?

like any other relationship, what you get out of a friendship mirrors what you put in, and if you keep it purely superficial that's what you'll get in return. which isn't necessarily a bad thing. superficial buddies have their place, social connections, drinking circles and whatnot.

but the awesomeness of true friendship lies in the elevated expectations. and it goes both ways. you know that person'll go to the mat for you; you're plenty pleased to reciprocate. it's quite wonderful. where it gets sticky is when the superficial starts acting like the true friendship type. expectations don't match up. some become abusive and others get pooped on. it's mostly nasty.

when it comes to friendship, even when we try to keep it light, how do we end up in the dark?

takin' out the trash

friday night ten-thirty pm I exit the tobacco company down in the slip. four kids in a donked out caprice roll up to the stop at 12th and cary, music bumpin'.

before the car completes its turn three beat cops are chasing it down, guns drawn. pistols stuffed through car windows and into kids faces. shouting ensues.

hands in the air.
out of the car now.

how violated do these kids feel?

crowds of white folk gather to see what the big hoo-ha is. they find the amount of force used inappropriate. I find it offensive.
before all is said and done four squad cars are on the scene. better safe than sorry.
thank you richmond pd.
thank you for keeping our streets squeaky clean.

sunday brunch at the house o'payne

had quite a busy morning. some of us talked with god at church, some of us found her in the kitchen. the wisest of us skipped god and slept in. then we got together for pancakes and fruit. and good company.









it's rosh hashanah this week, a great time to talk about things we're grateful for that happened in the year past. friendship was a pretty common theme around the table. hmmm. we were just sucking up to each other. but we all seemed especially grateful for the house of payne. this place is becoming an institution. seems like its made quite a few people happy in the short while its existed, and that's mui importante.

something to consider: yom kippur is coming up this weekend. its a time to reflect on how we can do better next year; better for ourselves, for each other, for the earth community as a whole. it's easy to get caught up in the chaos of the moment. lets be sure its not at the expense of bigger adventure.

by the way, brunch was delicious. next time yer all invited. welcome to the fam, amber!

the culture of long walks on the beach

what constitutes a cultural group? is apple a culture? if so, does owning an ipod grant you access or do you actually have to have the sticker on your car? my pops used to kid me for having stüssy shirts; thought it was funny that I was making some guy named stüssy famous. and I was paying cash ta' do it.

or maybe it was a requirement of being a part of the stüssy culture?

MMA. now there's a culture. shared vocabulary, mannerisms, dress. have common aspirations, hang out at the same places and seem awfully strange to all us normals on the outside looking in. isn't that what culture is all about?

it took a few days for me to blog this. I belong to the culture of procrastination.

it's not an adcenter party 'till somebody calls on johnny law

special props to the production team: sean for providin' beats, marcus for keg transport, and slate for ice. everyone who pitched in on the booze fund and everyone who showed up to make it such a raucous event, house of payne thanks you.

best part of the evening was singing happy birthday to rob.

happy birthday rob!

and to all the lames who missed out, don't worry, we'll be back.