Eric profile picture

Eric

You could be in the wrong place.

About Me

Journal!

For the time being:

Basic information over on the left there, you can figure it out. I enjoy pretending to be hip. I do the music thing. I have bad hair now, but I used to have good hair. I try not to watch much television.

I am ten ninjas.

I sound like angry chickens, or maybe a space robot. That's all you'll get out of me.

My Interests

music, secks, trees, thinking, rocking, games, music, fucking with stuff, non-stop rocking (inward singing), nerds, geeks, fark, basses, water, graphics, life, the universe, everything, spelling, punctuation, badgers, mushrooms, snakes, hitting people over the head with bricks, collecting hipsters in a plastic bag, things that aren't hats, air, wirelessness, eating five batteries, canada, the letter 3, abe lincoln stickers on the back of my printer

I'd like to meet:

You.
AIM = gowriteasong

Music:

The Bad Plus, Frank Zappa, ...And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead, Llama, Pinback, The Talking Heads, Gary Burton, Franz Ferdinand, Yo La Tengo, Oysterhead, Muse, The Police, The Tragically Hip, On!Air!Library!, Radiohead, Queen, David Bowie, Arabian Rap Group X, Venus Hum, The People Upstairs, Cake, Umphrey's McGee, Soulive, Death From Above 1979, Robbers on High Street, Spoon, Josh Redman, John Coltrane, Miles Davis, Jaco, The Flaming Lips, Wilco, RFE, Limozeen, Death Cab for Cutie, Sleater-Kinney, Flogging Molly, Ozma, Select Start, NESkimos, me.

Movies:

Brazil

Television:

is bad.

Books:

all things Kurt Vonnegut

Heroes:

I had this dream where I relished the fray, and the screaming filled my head all day. It was as though I'd been spit here, settled in, into the pocket of a lighthouse on some rocky socket, off the coast of France, dear. One afternoon, four thousand men died in the water here and five hundred more were thrashing madly, as parasites might in your blood. Now I was in a lifeboat designed for ten and ten only, anything that systematic would get you hated. It's not a deal nor a test nor a love of something fated. The selection was quick, the crew picked and those left in the water got kicked off our  pantleg and we headed for home. Then the dream ends when the phone rings, you doing alright. He said it's out there most days and nights, but only a fool would complain. Anyway Susan, if you like, our conversation is as faint as a sound in my memory, as those fingernails scratching on my hull.

My Blog

Zoon.

JOURNAL.
Posted by Eric on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST

On comments.

I like how all the comments for me are about Tom.
Posted by Eric on Mon, 01 Jan 1900 12:00:00 PST