ahem...

in response to the idea that fire nuts are sex fiends: I like to burn stuff...and when I'm not lighting shit on fire I'm thinking about lighting shit on fire. I don't believe this makes me a sexual predator. I think having dirty fantasies about Mary Kate Olsen pushes me closer towards the predator camp than the fire fixation.

Poor Man's Theatre: First Day of Spring

on the #56
a retard licks his fingers
with a thick slice of ham
and peels open a penny saver.
he sits drooling
over a glossy picture
of sliced grapefruit
and cherry blossom'd trees
pass us by.

Fucked Up Dream Last Night

I had a dream last night that my mother was force feeding me banana slugs.
She was craddling my head with her left hand at the back of my neck and jamming the slugs down my throat with her right hand, palm flat, pounding them into my mouth until I was choking.

Feeling Old at an All Ages Show II

Hoodies soaked with new puberty funk line the brick wall outside El Corazon several minutes before door. And I stand amongst them like some sort of Darby O'Gil-esque demented chaperon a full foot taller than most of the teen boys with pot flabby man boobs and too much unruly facial hair. I shift my weight from foot right to foot left and as the Monday evening early spring drizzle persists my own hoodie takes on a similar funk...and I start to blend. When I'm at an all-ages venue I am strangely aware of my own age...especially when I'm there alone.

Finally inside, standing in the "no alcohol zoned underage area" I feel like a lurking creep that should probably be registered with the sex offender registry. When I was "under age" we all thought people like me (now) were total losers. I'm really here for the show...I couldn't give a crap and a half about all the teen angst bullshit stewing around me. The boys at this show out-number the girls easily 30 to 1. The girls that are there are sprinkled thru the mass of boys in black hoodies and head-banger hair (half looking like Hanson, the other half looking like pre-teen cookie cutter versions of every 80's Metal band)...The girls wearing multi-layered tees and young rocker girl hair sulk like wallflowers in the back...fingers working furiously over tiny bright lit screens text messaging who knows who. Only about two or three pep squad-types brave the floor near the stage.

The show itself was fucking incredible...I held my ground and owned my space.

When I was leaving I noticed that some of the parents waiting out front to round up their kids were my age or younger...and I felt weirdly liberated knowing that I was free to go home and answer to no-one. Even on a school night.

Fuckin' Rockstar suplimental: The Quincunx CD

Received my much awaited for copy of Quincunx's four kickass tracks: Tellurian Spell, Darklike, Tiny Pearls of Wisdom, + (my personal favorite) Ghetto. Eh?

First: let me say that it totally kicks ass that I can now hear their tracks when I'm in the shower, drifting off to sleep, washing dishes, painting, folding laundry, knitting, eating ramen, or whenever or doing whatever I wanna do. If I flick the lightswitch real quick in my living room it's like I'm staring in my own kickass music video. AND...since I have a tamborine...I can join the band if I so choose, in the privacy of my own home.

Quincunx on disc + My Ghetto Blaster = Good Times on ANY NIGHT!

Second: let me say a little something about the kickass cover art. You gotta imagine this octopus floating in some green ocean water. The picture is incredible...but for some reason...and I'm sure I'm not the only one who sees it this way: An octopus in that flow-y underwater motion where the tentacles are splayed out in a way that exposes that dark underbelly chasm that I believe is the mouth and belly of the octopus...looks like the gapping gash of a five dollar whore, the tentacle suckers resembling sores left behind by dozens (if not hundreds) of johns...crabs after too much itching and scratching festering into infected boil-like sores. I'm not saying it's not hot...in that super dirty $5.00 whore way...I'm just saying it's what I see.

Fuckin' Rockstar XI

Like an Amish teen on the first night of Rumspringa I embark on a journey of my own and find myself drunk...at a Quincunx show in Olympia!

Yep, it's true...Quincunx played a St. Patty's Day gig at McCoys!!

I'm drunk...standing really fucking close to the speakers and the band is playing really fucking loud...my overly sensitive ears believe it was their loudest set yet. And holy Christ was it tight!

Ass Kickin' Kickass Quincunx Bassist Matt Bird was predictably flawless...layin' into his rhythmic sway fingering some kickass riffs. The rest of the guys were great too...Seneca on drums in a pair of Liz Taylor shades, Damien on guitar rockin' steady, and Doug on vocals singin' a bunch of lyrics and stuff. The crowd, their fans, some 200 dancing and screaming like a bunch of spastics begging for more when they finished their set look forward to Olympia being a regular stop on their tour itinerary.

Saturday: A Snack, A Nap, + A Fucked up Dream

So...I'm listening to Spoon, craving a cheeseburger and a fuck...and after having just enjoyed a delicious Kaluha Milkshake: I'm feeling pretty good...I might add. It's the kind of day rainy outside and lazy inside...and being single sucks because there's nothing quite like a dirty romp and a nap on damp sheets on a day like this...and since I can't do anything about the "fuck"...and I'm too lazy to trek up to Dick's for that cheeseburger...I decide to take a nap.

I drift quickly into a dream in which I'm going blind, loosing my balance like falling backwards on a large ball, my ears are ringing, and my words spill out in an unintellegable stutter...two hours into my nap I wake to the sound of screaming...

Not mine.

It's a woman's voice outside my window and she is apparently getting the shit beat outa her by what sounds like another woman. Screaming woman number one is shrieking "Help Me! Somebody Help Me!" Yelling woman number two is saying something I can't quite make out. Screaming woman number one hollers "Help Me! I Don't Wanna Go With You! Let Me Go!" I peer thru my blinds and can't see where the commotion is coming from...I'm about to call the police anyways when I hear sirens and the screaming stops.

...and then I'm all staggering and dizzy from being startled out of my sleepy dream.

More Dirty Limericks

there once was this guy we'll call Davey
his dick was not straight...it was wavy
he fucked like a corkscrew
twist and pop...quick he's through
his cum was like delicious salt gravy

NEW CHAPBOOK AVAILABLE!

Please email me at: sometimesvelma@yahoo.com
for details regarding my newest CHAPBOOK titled:

Poor Man's Theatre
Observations While Riding Metro
Volume One
By Sandi Strehlau

total cost to you...including shipping = $5.00
E me for my mailing address (where you can send a check)...
And I'll get a copy out to you within the week...that your check is received!

P.S.
there are still copies available of
Milk-Wet Memoirs
Vol. 1
((available for $7.00 including shipping))

Walking with Dinosaurs

I had a dream last night that I was walking down the street near Volunteer Park on 15th and there were like three Brachiosaurus dinosaurs lumbering along as if in slow motion. I only know they were Brachiosaurus' because I looked 'em up...weird because they were thought to be the largest dinosaurs...and they were herbivores.

here's where it gets really really weird...in the dream one of them was vomiting blood. Like huge gore-show amounts of it. And I thought, "why would he be vomiting blood if he doesn't eat meat?"

When I woke up I was confused.