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Urban

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San Francisco
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CA
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June 16, 2009

The Dude is acting up, making too much noise for a small cat. He's freaked, chasing ghosts and staring at me. I wonder if there is an earthquake coming, or perhaps he is simply doing the "post poo poo" dance. He licks his butt. I just realized it's Bloomsday! Now I understand...

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June 9, 2009

This is the beginning of the next step toward something similar to the meaning of the very idea of probable comparisons to misleading expectations reaching for ambiguous conclusions that add up to coincidence.

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June 2, 2009

San Francisco is in the fog today, but that's okay hipsters and squares, we still have some tunes to play, and as we dance like fools there are no stares - 'cause no one can see, so relax and be free. Ship.

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May 26, 2009

You did not hear the coddling “no speak” winters grinding out another year after year in syncopated notes blemished with darling substitutes for you. Smiling like a deathbed in the sunrise of an infant, no cause for growth, by touch or remote. Last cries of a desert night gone to pieces from chipped and broken thoughts surrounding the area in psilocybin cubes; brace yourself for wishes bestowed on half steps to avoid the corpses in rabid delight as silence fades from sight. What time ...

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May 19, 2009

All the little buggies crawling up and down my arms, singing and little mantras about each and every movement; pleasant little slow deaths forming all across the land; hurray, it makes no sense.

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May 15, 2009

Sort of sputtering out of control and headed for the sun - spinning like a an out-of-control propeller into the darkness of death - soft, quiet and empty. Poof!

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May 5, 2009

I forgot to post this earlier - Better late than never - Seen one you've seen 'em all - If it was supposed to be "fun" they wouldn't call it "work"

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April 29, 2009

Don't let me tell you how it is; I don't know what it is; the land mass in my skull is full of weeds; friction beats emptiness.

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April 21, 2009

Walking in riddles through this puzzle of heat and concrete. Reach for the rain; follow the moon.

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April 14, 2009

Here we go again - once more for luck

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April 7, 2009

Under the radar of the caption of the neon portrait of the King you will find me

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March 31, 2009

Pagans and Freemasons, Angels and Scarecrows, Archers and Knitters, Jurors and Trash Collectors, Ministers, Thieves and Me.

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March 24, 2009

Wishing, hoping, longing, dreaming, conjuring, hexing, burning candles, sleeping under a pyramid, staring at crystal balls, inducing trance states through chanting and deep meditation, turning to mind altering drugs and shaman with wild animal pelts covering their privates, examining the internal landscape for clues, messages and answers to the big questions - still searching...

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March 17, 2009

Sneak a peek at the song of the week and you will squeak when your cheek becomes blotchy from being unique. Tweet.

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March 10, 2009

All the flowers popping up as a result of all the rains, peeping out as if to say, "Hey, what's going on here?" And the noise from the gutter says, "Burp." And a baby cries. And a pigeon pecks. And the last frisbee is tossed into the wilderness. And then, before the sun sets, some drunk idiot asks if any of us has a cigarette. "You can't smoke here," we tell him. "We are surrounded by explosives."

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March 3, 2009

It's getting crowded here in Hell. I guess you could easily take that the wrong way. It was meant to be thought provoking. Like, maybe the reason the world doesn't make sense is because we've all been kicked out of the good place.

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February 24, 2009

Soggy feathers on the birds flying in the rain outside my window on a Wednesday - middle of the week blasphemer orphan with a monkey wrench and a container of apple juice. What's the use? I'm thirsty. Bursting situations clog the arteries, but the blood is blue and the source of the screaming has been put into repose. Nose dive, right toward the weekend.

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February 17, 2009

In the hour of the feeble attempt restraining public intervention repelling fortuitous backward language formulating empty statements confirming my own lack of creative babbling, thus indicating to you quite clearly that I have nothing to say.

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February 10, 2009

It's gonna be a hip shaking, shoe buzzing, nose itching, arm waving, food digesting, knee scraping, toe tapping, blood clotting, head turning, heart pounding, mouth drooling, liver cleansing, eyes glazing over good time!

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February 3, 2009

Sitting in Western Addition, waiting for my laundry to dry. Oh yes, and then I get to fold it. My cat is chirping and they're doing roadwork outside. My tea has gone cold, but I still have some quarters. Hurray for quarters!

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January 27, 2008

It's ketchup... catsup... catch up time around here. This is last weeks melodramatic episode. Bats in the Belfry and all that. Soon, it will all be represented and then we can move on to higher things.

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January 20, 2009

My computer was in the shop and so I was unable to post my last two shows. Until today. Here is 1/20/09. Oh Happy Day!

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R. Stevie Moore Spotlight - 1-04-09

I did a two hour spotlight show on the enigmatic R. Stevie Moore. He has been making records since 1966 by doing it on his own, no record company assistance. You can learn more about him at www.rsteviemoore.com. Keep in mind that he has over 400 albums and this was only a two hour spotlight.

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January 6, 2009

Another incredible journey into the unknown bespeckled with a myriad of ear piercing (and nipples) waves of sound in captivity. Hold fast, man!

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December 30, 2008

Here is my show from 12/30/08. There was a scheduled power outage for 8:00, so this is a two hour show (instead of three). So, dig the vacuum, daddy-o, and ride the edge to oblivion - that's where it's at.

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December 25, 2008

Argh! I did me a Christmas show, matey. Shiver me timbers, 'n all dat.

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December 23, 2008

Holiday time! What a bunch of man-made crap for the sake of greed. In a perfect world... I am on-the-air Christmas day too, so look out! Also, see kusf-archives.com for the whole show. Peace!

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December 16, 2008

On the way to the apocalypse, three sisters shared their last bottle of red wine while shivering in the back of the open roofed bus. "Don't feel bad," said the eldest sister to the two younger ones, "I saw several people walking. At least we don't have to walk."

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December 9, 2008

Missed the first couple of minutes of the show - bummer, dude. You can hear the whole unedited thing at www.kusf-archives.com. Dig and dig.

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December 2, 2008

Notepads, rags and empty smiles feed the vacuum of my mind, expecting rejecting and inspecting the night in all of its thundering backward design - I saw Don't Look Back last night - the Bob Dylan documentary from 1965. Man, he was so uptight. But hey, that was 43 years ago. Dig it.

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November 25, 2008

Guzzle, rain, dust, skyscraper, idealistic pleasure battle. Knees poison fleet oxide apple vision. Rejoice.

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November 18, 2008

Spider in my bathroom; foggy day; fast paced, fast paced; cardboard cut out society; and then there's the whole medical industry.

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November 11, 2008

The wind flows over the icy hills that rise above fields of waste that hide in the shadows, the shadows in my mind. Don't judge me too harshly, no one pressed any charges and the bugs, (the bugs!) have stopped biting for now. Now (razor blades) for the latest (fish guts) episode. You can hear the who thing (unedited) at www.kusf.blogspot.com. Later.

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November 04, 2008

Like, all the things I meant to say and didnt, dig? The walls are closing in because of time, time, time; time is the problem. You force your way through the portals and then bam! Youre done. Oh, and you can hear my show without edits (along with other KUSF DJs shows) at this site: http://kusf.blogspot.com

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October 28, 2008

The whole show in one full swoop - no volumes. And it's freakin' cold in here.

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October 21, 2008 Vol. 2

Ejected, rejected, conflicted, restricted, deployed and annoyed - that about sums it up. Oh, and it wasn't me, the Dude did it.

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October 21, 2008 Vol. 1

Today's show featured the Professor Flubber Birthday Set. Yes, it was good. Woooo!

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October 14, 2008 Vol. 2

Part two right here. Needle in the eye. Crack in the stye. Blood on my cheek. Gotta take a leak. That's my poem.

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October 14, 2008 Vol. 1

Back from NC and ready to rock. Rock on, freakers and feel the raging wave of sound and word. Word. Great sunrise this a.m. Most of the public service announcements were deleted for your listening pleasure. Dig.

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September 30, 2008 Vol. 1

All the folly in one big pile. I will not be doing a show next week - in case you're wondering.

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September 23, 2008 Vol. 2

All the presents stack up like the dreams of an inmate, delicious and deadly. Don't even look at them, they're not for you - not anymore. Even the hobos have to have a style, it's written in the Human Contract for life: No style, no dice.

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September 23, 2008 Vol. 1

"Stevil, why are you so apocalyptic?" She asked. "I'm not apocalyptic," Stevil replied. "Yes you are," she pressed. "If I'm 'apocalyptic," Stevil countered, "then why do I bother to get up every day" "I'm not saying you don't love life," she replied, "I'm saying that you've lost faith in humanity."

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September 16, 2008 Vol. 2

You always say things like that, Stevil, she muttered with sarcastic undertones, like youre supposed to be so smart. When did I ever accuse myself of being smart? I replied.

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September 16, 2008 Vol. 1

Reminiscing about days gone by, when one could leave the shelter without an oxygen mask and not worry about getting scorched by the sun after twenty minutes. Ah, those were the days! Remember when we suffered from over population? The young ones still think that were pulling their legs on that one. They dont know how lucky they are to have been born at all. I guess I should be happy that Im alive. I suffer from the memory of easier times, thats all. You never know how good things ...

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September 09, 2008 Vol. 2

If you are reading this then you are still alive. Quick, run for help. I'm buried in the Lion's Cave and my bones are all scattered around...

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September 09, 2008 Vol. 1

The lion sleeps in the cave of darkness awaiting its prey with a confident snore, dreaming of tasty morsels. Floating feathers, scattered bones; all is well.

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September 2, 2008 Vol. 3

End End End End End End End End Bust End End End End End End End End Cheese End End End Foot End End End End End Bye

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September 2, 2008 Vol. 2

Ride the virus

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September 2, 2008 Vol. 1

The bubbles are popping, popping, popping and he ground cover is expanding over the ruins of the empire that we have lost.

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August 26, 2008 Vol. 2

I fell out of the tree and onto the cloud that fed the spiders with souls of men from my hometown who tried to overcome the curse of our village. The sinking ship of time breathes life into the dying breath.

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August 26, 2008 Vol. 1

The bullet wound is a happy one, a reminder to enjoy life and smell the roses before they wither and die, before fire falls from the sky and the mountains erupt like volcanoes, before babies are born with beards and tails, before individuality loses its edge of uniformity; one last moment to enjoy.

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August 19, 2008 Vol. 2

This one will be smoother, brighter and full of love. In the meantime, listen to the cattle.

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August 19, 2008 Vol. 1

Okay, okay, so here is the first part of this morning's show. It was tricky getting this recording ready because I had to splice it using Garage Band, and that doesn't allow for exact edits. I think it came out fine. If not, then you can call me bad names having to do with bodily fluids and excrement. I may cry, but I'll survive. Peace.

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August 12, 1008 Vol. 2

Snow balling episodes expanding right before your eyes like thunder bellowing throughout the night, caking your ears with blasts of sound and flashes of lightening blinding your eyes. It's over, it's all over.

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August 12, 1008 Vol. 1

Here is the first last second chapter chamber for you and you's. Don't let it get you thinking.

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August 5, 2008 Vol. 2

When the damn breaks over the madness, that's when my heart breaks and the snow falls on the bouncing squirrels in my eyes. The victim's squirrels were found all over the grass, reeling to the music. Dance. Dance. Dance...

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August 5, 2008 Vol. 1

Part one of the trails behind the comet that fills the airwaves with the sound of cleaning products and sterilization theory. The atmosphere is pregnant with diabolical what's-its. Jet propelled and insignificant. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz...

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July 29, 2008 Vol. 2

The road is paved with iron clad alibis. The fish is decorated with chocolate sprinkles and foggy eyesores. The vinegar leaks into the nose of reflection.

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July 29, 2008 Vol. 1

Food funding finders flaunting fabulous fumes for friendly freakers

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July 22, 2008 Vol. 3

Last but not least in the long line of endless lines leading back and forth in a broken record of radiant emptiness.

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July 22, 2008 Vol. 2

Next stop...Nowheresville, baby. Climb on in, the water's great - it just smells a little funny.

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July 22, 2008 Vol. 1

Match sticks burning the mud caked claws of ancient creatures, like me. Dig the tunes.

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July 15, 2008 Vol. 2

It's just a blemish, don't be worried - I have tons of them. Kiss me.

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July 8, 2008 Vol. 1

Hot hot hot in the studio today. Melting. Colorless, shapeless forms pursue me with great effort. Go away! Leave me be! I gave back all the magic that I ever stole. If I still had it, I would use it. Stop watching me, please. Don't follow me like victims. Follow me like teammates. Some day we may win this battle, and then we'll be champions. Wooo.

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July 4, 2008 Vol. 2

Here we go again - Weeeeeeeeeeee! Ride the wave into oblivion! Yay!

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July 4, 2008 Vol. 1

Hello again from outer space. I subbed an Independence Day show from 6-9 a.m. This poo floats, if you know what I'm saying. Like, the gear shifter is working wonderfully. There's no extra parts. Dig! (And I'm even more sleepy today, if such is possible, like.)

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July 2, 2008

I subbed 2/3 of a show on Wednesday July 2, 2008. It was fun, but it was also tiring and I had to drag, I mean drag myself out of bed to get there on time. Nuts!

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July 1, 2008 Vol. 2

Feeding frenzy is over. No more food. I'm stuffed. No cheese.

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July 1, 2008 Vol. 1

Absent of words, fiendish plots, collective patterns and nervous habits - normal patterns don't work at all. Food instead.

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June 24, 2008 Vol.2

It's okay, don't worry. The night still gives birth to the day and if it wasn't meant to reach into that place, it wouldn't be able to fit. Right? Am I wrong? Am I wrong? Am I wrong? I'm calmer than you...

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June 24, 2008 Vol.1

Pulling the wool over my eyes, I hit the bricks because it's f**k or walk. I must close the deal or eat my tail to stay alive. The drool on my lips felt like fingernails on a chalkboard - disturbing and awakening me to the day. Welcome brothers and sisters, taste the crumbs of my vengeance. The water feels great. Watch out for the sharks, shakes, shattered dreams. Dig!

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June 17, 2008 Vol. 2

The rudder is stuck and the ship is out of control. Man the sails! Clear the decks! Women and children first. Abandon ship! Run for your lives... Broken... dreams... falling... cream puffs... silent angels sending kisses in the dark for the troll with the bug eye... pulsating chancre spewing the innards of a disease well spread... listen... feel it flowing through your soul... welcome to the disease. One of us... One of us... One of us...

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June 17, 2008 Vol. 1

A fine, foggy June morning that turned into a hot, summer day during my 3 hour show. Full circle. Dynamo! You can hear the end of a Cheap Trick song at the beginning - that was me, mine...I done that to feed the vacuum of inner need and craving for the anchored sounds of my youth in a toilet plunging frenzy on momentary remembrances that quickly fade to urban chaotic ear buzzing zolts and piercings. Hail the Vacuum!

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June 10, 2008 Vol. 2

Continuing with the sounds of creatures crawling out of my stomach and out into the world creating chaos and mayhem - but always with love.

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June 10, 2008 Vol. 1

I woke up dead. It was all I could do to get out of bed and crawl to the KUSF Studios to bring this collection of gruff to the airwaves. So love it, or hate it, or...whatever. Right on!

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June 3, 2008 Vol. 2

Buckets of blood, pus and tasty intestine. All for you.

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June 3, 2008 Vol. 1

Zombie man crawls up from the grave to feast on blood and run amuck throughout the town. After so many nights of minimal amounts of sleep, I am that zombie, and you are listening to the blood of my victims.

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May 27, 2008 Vol. 2

This is the ending of the beginning. Fluttering wings of birds within my eyes, reflecting the movement of time that escapes, but not without leaving its mark, penetrating deep into the rhythm of consciousness, melting the cheese of my existence onto my vegie-patty coffin, setting me free into the wild flame and calling me an a-hole. Some things never change.

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May 27, 2008 Vol. 1

We have gathered here today to witness the foolishness of Stevil. This buffoonery signifies years of practice and focused concentration. Like many before him, Stevil has embarked down this treacherous path ill equipped for the harsh conditions and dangerous circumstances. At the sign post up ahead, your next stop: Nowheresville.

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May 20, 2008 Vol. 2

The next incarnation of the inevitable. Moss growing all along the edges and crickets chirping. Summer. Cool. Hot. Word.

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