From the entrance to the exit
Is longer than it looks from where we stand
I want to say I'm sorry for stuff I haven't done yet
Things will shortly get completely out of hand
I can feel it in the rotten air tonight
In the tips of my fingers
In the skin on my face
In the weak last gasp of the evening's dying light
In the way those eyes I've always loved illuminate this place
Like a trashcan fire in a prison cell
Like the searchlights in the parking lots of hell
I will walk down to the end with you
If you will come all the way down with me

Ok, I sent out some email about a show to friends here in town and then I was told I had to take it down and I didn't want to send out another email just to tell people that but now a few people have been confused so I will post this page. The background is approximately the color of the paint on the walls at Terrafazione Italia.

This little form searches AMG and I use it a lot for figuring out what album is which and stuff when I'm downloading music from the net. All Music Guide is the IMDB of music but many people don't know about it so I'm advertising.

One handy thing you can do if you know some html is strip the search forms out of your favorite websites and then paste them all into one web page. For example, Google makes it easy to steal their form and put it in your page. I remember when web pages were young. The main function of the "home page" was a place to store your bookmarks. It was the page that started in your browser and since there weren't search engines, that's where you figured out where to go to.

A conversation between Robert Schneider and Jeff Mangum, who grew up in Ruston, Louisiana. And later made The Apples in Stereo and Neutral Milk Hotel.

JM: What you don't understand is that I thought it was a flower. But it wasn't. Ok? It was part of the rat on the treadmill and it was this dude's legs watchin' The Price is Right. Ok? An, an, it was part of the blender. And I, I convinced myself for so long that it was a flower, I mean I spent years and years and years convincing myself that these puzzle pieces added up to a flower. And it wasn't at all. And once I woke up I realized, "How do I trust other pieces? How do I take new pieces and put them together with as much, y'know, vigor as I once did?" Because what if, what if they're not a flower either? What if they're just like...

RS: They've gotta be animal pieces. They might be animal pieces. Pieces of goats?

JM: Well, that's what I was tryin' for, that was like a rat and a goat and the whole thing and the goats didn't have any hands.

RS: And you bought this at WalMart?

JM: And that's what I wanted. That's what all I wanted, I mean that, ever since I was a kid. Since I was a kid it it it just seems...

RS: Have you never got the puzzle together?

JM: No.

RS: Ever?

JM: Never. There're all these disjointed pieces I convinced myself to be flowers.

RS: You have a serious problem, young man.

JM: I know I do. But I don't think I'm much different from anybody else. I bet everybody else has got a bunch of, like, pseudo flowers in their pockets that really are just pieces of that weird puzzle that aren't....

Los Angeles, Cahuenga and Sunset I think.