"Head of the State"
Well apparently, New Jersey has similar state laws to California about ousting the states Governor. However the amount of signatures needed is in the millions and the process from what I read in the Inquirer is quite harder than the process in California. Given the apathy of most this state I doubt it will its possible that we will see any celebrities running for Governor
I am too lazy too look up if I am remotely old enough to run for the head of the Garden State, however that didn’t stop me from making a list of things I would do to make your living conditions better in the state of New Jersey.
Here are a few things I was kicking around in my head the other day when I was supposed to be doing work.
Make it mandatory for all High School Seniors to travel to Lucy the Elephant in Margate.
Make the New York Giants change their name to the New Jersey Giants. They play in FREAKING New Jersey. What a bunch of posers.
Legalize same sex marriages. Ban marriages between people from North Jersey and South Jersey.
Cut taxes for everyone south of Trenton, and raise them for everyone North of Trenton.
Make Starview’s “buffalo wings” illegal.
Start a government funded Frisbee league.
Abolish all statuary rape laws.
Pass a mandate that Drew has to recite the pledge of allegiance when he awakes.
Fine any South Jersey bloggers who unjustly attack Duke
Pass a law in the state for schools to require a “Weird New Jersey” class.
Delcare November 10th Roy Scheider day. We will look the other way that he was born in NORTH Jersey.
Thursday, August 14, 2003
Sunday, August 10, 2003
“Music by the HIGHway”
So an old friend of mine Royce called me out the blue this past week. Apparently, he is still alive and residing in New York State. Royce called to inform me that he would be breezing into the Delaware Valley for a few days and his band who he moved to New York with would be putting on two shows one in Cherry Hill and one in Philly.
It was really great to see Royce, because I only see him a few times a year (sadly I didn’t get my annual holiday visit this year) and when we hang out its like we just hung out the day before. Its never awkward despite not spending time together anymore. Royce one of my first friends that drove me around always amused me with his thinking outside the box, and his off beat sense of humor.
Anyway Royce had told me that he was playing at a place called Woodstock in Cherry Hill. I had never heard of what I figured was either a café or a bar. Where else would have a band play? Well apparently, it was actually a “Head Shop” before you go running for you hip-slang dictionary let me save you the trouble. Apparently, “Head Shops” are places where people buy drug related paraphernalia. The story main theme is weed and everything weed related. So anyone that knows me, realizes how out of place this makes me.
After I heard about it I half expected (and was a little creeped out) to see bongs hanging on walls and various other instruments people use to get “weeded up”. So Royce, Ryan, Lima Beanz and I arrive there to find that Royce’s bandmates were no where to be seen. So it gave me time to explore a “head shop” for the first time. I am either naïve or oblivious but I could not find anything that you could “put your weed in man!” Although I began picking up objects and trying to figure out how they could hide or store drugs. I honestly had myself convinced that the Simpsons Pez dispensers might have another use that I was unaware of. However now that I think of it its hard enough storing the candy in those darn things let alone dope. A friend of mine who recently made the wise decision to make his year long hiatus from the drug a permanent one (mad props) theorized you have to give a code word to get the “tools” used to get bowled over. Not unlike the ball washing place in Hi-Nella, however I only found evidence of an animal living there and a toilet only hidden behind a curtain made of beads. This place made me glad I never did drugs.
The store does proudly boast the biggest selection of incense on the east coast. Originally, they served as a way to over come the smell over simmering drugs, but now their main purpose it to apparently gag to death anyone that isn’t stoned. I think I’d rather smell my cat’s droppings than have someone permeate a room with that stench.
The store also sells magazines all about getting weeded up, soap made of hemp, and the largest collection of hideous shirts on the east coast. I can’t imagine anyone who isn’t blind or on drugs purchasing these eyesores. If I did purchase them I would shove them in a South Jersey landfill where they belong. While waiting for Royce’s MIA band members we met the owner of the store. She was a hippie woman well into her 50s. She told us to just call her “mom”. Why not everyone that worked there did, they seemed to have a lot of workers for place that was deader than Gregory Hines. I honestly think two people bought stuff the entire time we were there. Creepily enough it was seemingly a man and his daughter.
So eventually the band shows up in 70s style short bus, and the people to footwear ratio was more lopsided than Rob Arter walking out of South Philly bar. Mostly the band was mainly made up of long hair, bearded free spirits who were ready to put on a show despite having Ryan, Lima Beanz and I as their only audience members. One of the band’s trademarks is their alien puppets that take to the road with them. There are two of them, one female and one male. The female has two sets of breasts, and the male has a large black penis that flaps in the breeze. The two dolls were in poor shape, and “Mom” pitched in and sewed them right up. She made sure that large black penis was in tip-top shape for his big Philly show.
I was surprised when the band set up out side. Because there is a very small amount of land between the store and the always busy Route 70, and I imagine passing motorists must have thought it was odd. Especially since Mom did her sewing right out in the open sitting with the band. Eventually the puppets did do a little jig with out any self-consciousness about there genital being exposed.
The band played various songs, and are a grateful dead type of band. Not really my kind of thing, but you can tell they were good at their type of music. Each band member gelled well together and they seemed like they could easily feel where one another was going with the music. The songs melted into each other like ice cream on summers days. When they did try to explain the meaning of their songs, I was even more confused. Perhaps you have to be higher than the WPVI Channel 6 Zoo Balloon ( I have been waiting so long to reference that for some reason) to get on their wave length. Royce really got into it and seemed more entertaining than their actual front man. We left because we had to hit the road. The band seemed to keep on playing despite only a few people that were standing there. You see they would have played if not one person was there. Royce and his buddies would just jam on doing their own thing. Because that’s the way he lives his life.
Royce cares not for the cookie cutter ideal “good life” he is truly doing what he wants to do everyday. Playing music he loves. Some might say that Royce’s life is a tad bizarre, but heck you have to give him credit for not being shackled by such downers like a job he hates or doing what is mainstream. Rock on Royce!
So an old friend of mine Royce called me out the blue this past week. Apparently, he is still alive and residing in New York State. Royce called to inform me that he would be breezing into the Delaware Valley for a few days and his band who he moved to New York with would be putting on two shows one in Cherry Hill and one in Philly.
It was really great to see Royce, because I only see him a few times a year (sadly I didn’t get my annual holiday visit this year) and when we hang out its like we just hung out the day before. Its never awkward despite not spending time together anymore. Royce one of my first friends that drove me around always amused me with his thinking outside the box, and his off beat sense of humor.
Anyway Royce had told me that he was playing at a place called Woodstock in Cherry Hill. I had never heard of what I figured was either a café or a bar. Where else would have a band play? Well apparently, it was actually a “Head Shop” before you go running for you hip-slang dictionary let me save you the trouble. Apparently, “Head Shops” are places where people buy drug related paraphernalia. The story main theme is weed and everything weed related. So anyone that knows me, realizes how out of place this makes me.
After I heard about it I half expected (and was a little creeped out) to see bongs hanging on walls and various other instruments people use to get “weeded up”. So Royce, Ryan, Lima Beanz and I arrive there to find that Royce’s bandmates were no where to be seen. So it gave me time to explore a “head shop” for the first time. I am either naïve or oblivious but I could not find anything that you could “put your weed in man!” Although I began picking up objects and trying to figure out how they could hide or store drugs. I honestly had myself convinced that the Simpsons Pez dispensers might have another use that I was unaware of. However now that I think of it its hard enough storing the candy in those darn things let alone dope. A friend of mine who recently made the wise decision to make his year long hiatus from the drug a permanent one (mad props) theorized you have to give a code word to get the “tools” used to get bowled over. Not unlike the ball washing place in Hi-Nella, however I only found evidence of an animal living there and a toilet only hidden behind a curtain made of beads. This place made me glad I never did drugs.
The store does proudly boast the biggest selection of incense on the east coast. Originally, they served as a way to over come the smell over simmering drugs, but now their main purpose it to apparently gag to death anyone that isn’t stoned. I think I’d rather smell my cat’s droppings than have someone permeate a room with that stench.
The store also sells magazines all about getting weeded up, soap made of hemp, and the largest collection of hideous shirts on the east coast. I can’t imagine anyone who isn’t blind or on drugs purchasing these eyesores. If I did purchase them I would shove them in a South Jersey landfill where they belong. While waiting for Royce’s MIA band members we met the owner of the store. She was a hippie woman well into her 50s. She told us to just call her “mom”. Why not everyone that worked there did, they seemed to have a lot of workers for place that was deader than Gregory Hines. I honestly think two people bought stuff the entire time we were there. Creepily enough it was seemingly a man and his daughter.
So eventually the band shows up in 70s style short bus, and the people to footwear ratio was more lopsided than Rob Arter walking out of South Philly bar. Mostly the band was mainly made up of long hair, bearded free spirits who were ready to put on a show despite having Ryan, Lima Beanz and I as their only audience members. One of the band’s trademarks is their alien puppets that take to the road with them. There are two of them, one female and one male. The female has two sets of breasts, and the male has a large black penis that flaps in the breeze. The two dolls were in poor shape, and “Mom” pitched in and sewed them right up. She made sure that large black penis was in tip-top shape for his big Philly show.
I was surprised when the band set up out side. Because there is a very small amount of land between the store and the always busy Route 70, and I imagine passing motorists must have thought it was odd. Especially since Mom did her sewing right out in the open sitting with the band. Eventually the puppets did do a little jig with out any self-consciousness about there genital being exposed.
The band played various songs, and are a grateful dead type of band. Not really my kind of thing, but you can tell they were good at their type of music. Each band member gelled well together and they seemed like they could easily feel where one another was going with the music. The songs melted into each other like ice cream on summers days. When they did try to explain the meaning of their songs, I was even more confused. Perhaps you have to be higher than the WPVI Channel 6 Zoo Balloon ( I have been waiting so long to reference that for some reason) to get on their wave length. Royce really got into it and seemed more entertaining than their actual front man. We left because we had to hit the road. The band seemed to keep on playing despite only a few people that were standing there. You see they would have played if not one person was there. Royce and his buddies would just jam on doing their own thing. Because that’s the way he lives his life.
Royce cares not for the cookie cutter ideal “good life” he is truly doing what he wants to do everyday. Playing music he loves. Some might say that Royce’s life is a tad bizarre, but heck you have to give him credit for not being shackled by such downers like a job he hates or doing what is mainstream. Rock on Royce!
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