Evidence of My Social Scaffold

Evan Loritsch, Mark Jaeshke and I went to the woods with a camera and a guitar.



There is going to be one of these for every track on Bear Hair, and then some.

http://www.myspace.com/anthonyjaysandersmusic

Taffy Apple Lifestyle People

I'd like to start off by saying that I dressed myself for both of these pictures.

Cougar vs. Human will probably knock out a few good songs this Valentine's Day weekend; I'm headed towards Iowa on a Greyhound Bus. The last time I did that, I talked for 30 minutes to some strangers about how awful Arby's is. This time, I'll bring a bag lunch. And a gun.

I wrote some new lyrics for us. I wrote them all with the intention of hearing them come out of Jennie's mouth, and the full-fledged arrangement of these songs sound fantastic in my head. Knowing Jennie, they'll pan out nicely.

We've only recorded a few demos on her computer, and I'm trying to figure out how to post them up here, like some sort of Sixeyes-esque mp3 blog. I think I'll do that once we record some more, so I'm not giving away....everything we have.

I have plenty of gift ideas for Valentine's Day. Some have called me a God amongst mere men with things like this. Some have called me Dad. Others have called me Cain, inheritor of the land. My mom calls me Audrey or Abby on accident. Here's what I'm getting Jennie:

Did you read that? It has a strong sense for playing! Thanks, Japan.

Danny and I have been hanging out at Isabel Kasheshian's house far too much, and Sub-Ground Sound is becoming real, real talk. For anyone reading this, I probably mentioned something called Starved Artists....that idea's been tweaked ever since we started hanging with two hip-hop/spoken-word-oriented guys with similar plans called The Illestrators. They are also called Aris Theotokatos and Chris Olivares.

Have you ever seen Step Brothers? It's like Prestige Worldwide, except with less boats.

Picking our roster of artists requires a lot of caution. Right now, it's only musicians/rappers and slam poets or writers affiliated with spoken word. However, Aris and Chris have expanded our vision a LOT. Here's the rough draft of the website....once we get our About Us on there, our intentions will seem a lot less scattered. It'll look cool once we get our friends to hook us up with decent web designs.

http://www.subgroundsound.com/

Yeah, it's a real URL.

Today is the superbowl. Wherever I go, I'm probably going for the food. I wish this wasn't usually the case, but it almost ALWAYS is. I'm going to go shower and smell like not-bad.

Developments in Ticklefights

Greetings from beyond the grave. The above is a picture drawn by my filthy-minded cartoon-drawing friend Nick Dimoulis, based on my musical Fat Chance.

Nick Dimoulis and I shared a math class, along with Spiros Leukopoulos and George Odicho. We spent most of the time playing movie/TV Pictionary, but we noticed that Nick could draw exceptionally gross, body-related things.

One day, he looked back at me with a notebook propped up on his desk, urging me to look at it. It was a graphic drawing of a woman giving birth to PeeWee Herman. I had to supress my laugh, clog my tears, and cross my legs.

Fat Chance, the plotline I detailed in the very first post, is finally being fully realized through collaboration with my friend Tim McPherrin. Few things could make me happier than this! Once the weather gets Springish and the script is absolutely number-one-super-ready, the filming will begin. The cast is mainly made up of friends. Actually, entirely of friends. Justin Nicholson plays three people, all with antiquated jobs:

1. Town Cryer,
2. Milkman,
3. Cholera-Cure Delivery Boy.

I can hear you not laughing right now. It's cool, I think it's hilarious.

Other Journies in Rock and Roll

Bear Hair beard, growing thick from the eyes, the roof of my mouth and ears, and I feel like I've had it for this-many-dog-years; lately I've been 2, tomorrow I'll feel 82, feeling like my head bluetoothed youth. Skin thickens and blood cells reach Heinz heights, watching my sketch-artist-composite pegged onto a LiteBrite; God bless my shiny architect. Zoom out to the marionettes. Number 2 will hold my Village hostage and the role switches every single time I enter and exit a room, and I won't control me any time soon.

The salt of my tears once did wonders for my acne, but it just soaks into the spiny facial ivy when I start ignoring hygiene, I've developed junglemusk; childish monster drawing with long hair and thick tusks. TUSK from the back, TUSK from the cheek, TUSK from the forehead, 3 more wherever nature wanted. Dear Grace: I'm feeling like the Lady in the Fireplace, caught like the Doctor in the cytoplasm of Time/Space. And like him, I waited, and waited, and waited, and waited, and waited, and waited, and you never came. I waited and you never came. I waited and you never came. I waited and you never came. I waited and you never came.

Thinks he's got her figured out.
I'm dying if he does,
because there's no service and some network cable's unplugged.
I'm waiting on my twin bed,
my feet can touch the floor,
bear hair beard drapes on my chest,
and I'm crawling on all fours;
I waited and you never came.

Some things are best left not discussed


I promise it gets more hopeful than that. This is the first track from Bear Hair, a rap called "The Beginnings of a Beard." I'm getting gradually less-bad at recording, and doing it from home gives me the special privelage of eating crab rangoon while I lay down fresh beatz.

My friends Kayla Koch and Joanne Kim are collaborating on the cover art because they are very, very sweet/talented people. However, I have my own ideas:



Alright, that's enough for one post. I've gotta shower and get ready for work. So, now that my computer-availability-time isn't sporadic and weird, I'm actually gonna be using this more often. I have to please the TENS and TENS of readers.