My girlfriend called me from the tea spot she worked at and asked if I'd give a coworker of hers a ride home. I said sure and made my way down there. The girl she worked with was cute though I never got her name. She was kind of tom boyish with long brown hair and was always wearing cheap sunglasses on her head. We said hello and they got in the car. On the way home we made small talk. I mentioned I had a show coming up since she seemed like the type that would go.

"Oh yea what type of music do you play?" she asked.
"we play death pop" I cunningly replied.
"whats that?"
"it's just me and a dj. Some times I play drums. it's experimental poppy but loud its cool."

I could tell by the way she asked what I play that she was a musician.

"Do you play?" I asked.
"yea."
"do you have a band? Are you playing with anyone?"
"yea. the ssion" she softly stated.
"oh cool. We should play a show together sometime." I genuinely replied.
"what instrument you play?" I asked.
"Guitar." she said apathetically.
"Do you ever notice how when someone says they play 'guitar' they Always say it like that? GUI-tar." I said making a joke.
"What do you mean?" she asked
"Well I just mean like it's so passe' ya know? Everything's been done" I said looking at her through the rear view mirror.
"I don't think so. I think it's cool." She sounded almost offended.

it was a quiet 60 seconds the rest of the way to her house which was just a block away from where me and my old lady were staying. We said goodbye as she got out of the car. As soon as we started driving off I started busting up laughing.

"Oh My GOD. talk about taking yourself a little too seriously." I bursted.
"I didn't think it was very funny either. what the hell?" my girlfriend started in.
"Oh cmon? I said 'Gui-tar' the Exact same way she did. EXACTLY the same way! gimme a break?"

Oh well. She was always getting flustered with me and my outlandish behavior. Always loud and obnoxious. Just always always.

A few weeks past by and I caught wind that xiu xiu was in town playing in the west bottoms. I scrambled to find a ride. Finally finding someone that was willing to pick me up. That fat kid that had that zine. I forget his name. He tried to get me to do an interview once but when he told me which writer he had assigned for me I refused. Being that me and that guy had quarreled at a Halloween show a few months prior and weren't exactly friends.

The show was spectacular. This being back when xiu xiu was fresh meat. Back when we were all still curious as to where the sound was going. as I'm sure they were as well. The ssion opened up for them and it was all very exciting. I cut out early to do some drugs and be with my new lady friend. I hate crowds and the later it got the less I was willing to tolerate the hot sweaty mess. the fumes and the chatter gassing up the warehouse where we were stationed.

The next day I got myself a cup of coffee and was moseying along westport when I noticed Cody folding some clothes in the sell/trade clothing shop. I went in and introduced myself. He had a cop mustache and his arms were covered in blue pen scribblings from the night before.

"great show last night." I said tipping up my coffee.They hated me drinking my coffee in the store but anytime I could sneak it past them without them giving me the "put it on the shelf" dead stare I'd keep it in my grip.

"yea it was pretty good." he was really effeminate and charming in an art faggy kind of way.

We spoke for quite awhile. I had just moved back to KC from the st louis scene and was doing my best to re-familiarize myself with the newly developed KC scene. I'd played a killer show my first week back with my garage band hevy duty where I was seen rolling on tables into candles, chasing girls out the exit while executing a mad guitar solo. destroying the drums and last but not least being Stranded at the bar at 4 in the morning with no ride, Drunk as piss. I eventually got a hold of the drummer he finally came back to pick me up and just as he pulled up I kicked a big huge dent in the side of his car. He almost drove off and left me there after doing so but he stopped and let me in and we made our way home as screaming ensued. Too much tequila. I'd taken three triple shots in a row right before going on stage and had basically blacked out and went into some kind of rock rage. But fortunately that kind of behavior is widely sought after in that profession so I very quickly made a name for myself as a crazy ass mother fucker who was here to be loud.

Me and Cody could both kind of tell just by looking at each other that we were from the same school. It didn't take long at all before we were talking about everything we knew. and before I knew it I'd been standing there jabbering with him for almost the entire morning. Towards the end of our chat I felt like I'd found a friend and left the shop without buying anything.

We would share gigs. let each other know what was going on. where to be. if it was any good. It never being anything too fantastic. But we had confidence. and we felt good about what we were doing. Like everyone kind of depended on us. And like we felt honored by the responsibility. even though we both knew it was a hoax. It always is. But they like it that way. I mean why give the magic trick away before anyone even gets a chance to see it performed.

We hung out a lot that summer. Them living right down the block. So much so that there was talk that we might have been fucking. To which I mutely responded. let them think what ever they want I say. Michelle was always trying to steal my girlfriend too. or at least get her in to bed. And I knew that my girl was open to that sort of thing so I was always weary to leave them alone together.

Mostly we would just share each others art though. and it was nice. I was working on my first short film titled "trashman" about a volunteer half retarded garbage man that gets accidentally crushed when he falls asleep in a garbage compactor. and then comes back to life as a paranormal that can posses trash to exact his revenge on the people who gave him a hard time when he was still living. You were working on some Sci-fi Punk rock apocalyptic wonderland film. I remember seeing lots of extreme porn when I was watching you edit it. It made me uncomfortable being alone in the house with you. Extreme close ups of wet appendages and orifices flashing on the screen. I never liked looking at porn with another dude in the room. But I recognized what you were doing as art. And you respected my opinion. You never did finish it though. the last time I saw you I asked you about it and you said what I'm always saying about my better ideas. "I haven't gotten to do anything on it. too busy with the band and everything." you were nervous and uneasy but I knew why. My new friend Chris was sitting next to me and he and Cody were not the slightest bit friendly with one another. I have no idea what started the bad blood between them but I had heard Chris make a few fag remarks here and there so I understood what Cody's deal was. I'd started hanging out with Chris the more I got into making movies. He was an actor and a screen writer and had gotten a few projects to green light. But mostly what me and Chris bonded on was our sincere love and appreciation for dope.

I saw you got a footnote in spin magazine. and I was horribly jealous. So jealous that I began to despise you a little. Later I heard about when you went to new york and you were guaranteed a spot in rolling stone. But something happened and you ran away. Which made me respect you again even though everyone else in town saw it as a failing on your part. For me though it was pure comradery because that's what I'd been doing all of my career. Running from the fame as quick as it came. Start a new fire somewhere else. Keep the people guessing.