pantsonfire

so yeah. warped tour was cool. there really wasn't anyone i was nuts about seeing, but coheed & cambria was pretty cool (they covered "so lonely", my favorite police song). it was hot and sunny, so i spent most of the afternoon sleeping in the shade on this grassy knoll, drinking lots of water. the band's set was good, and we passed out hundreds of free cd's to the masses. lots of cute girls to ogle, that's what warped tour means to me.

we were going to leave and upon entering the van, we made a most unpleasant discovery: we had been robbed blind. all my personal belongings were taken, save for a book i was reading and a pair of shoes. another guy had his ibook ripped. everyone was missing something. it sucked so much dick, just killed everyone's spirits in the biggest way. here's what i lost:

- my ipod, it's hardcase, and all of the accessories.
- my messenger bag.
- my faux snakeskin flask i got in nyc, plus the yummy whiskey contents.
- my palm pilot (yeah, i know - i'm a dork).
- two packs of camels
- two pairs of boxer shorts
- two pairs of socks
- my rush-mor records t-shirt
- my response t-shirt
- pair of jeans
- toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant
- two condoms (extra large, of course)
- the new fiery furnaces cd
- my dismemberment plan cd
- a few other cd's including a master disc of some demos i'd been working on.
- my keys

so how much more fucked up can a guy's life get? i'll tell you how much more. we drove back to the beer city. everyone's down and out. i called kelly and asked her to deliver my keys to the cactus club so i could get in my house. we pulled up at cactus at 1:30. i had a power hour of whiskey/waters and i walked the 10 blocks back to my place. it was cold out and i was dirty, smelly, and getting drunk by the step. it's funny how it takes a while for the booze to kick in on a power hour. kelly once again didn't come through for me so i had no house keys. i was expecting to sleep in the front doorway and just feel sad. but i got to the house and the door was unlocked. i went inside, took a piss and lit a candle. something was amiss. my place had been burglarized, too. how's that for luck? this shit only happens to me. here's wahat they took:

- my imac.
- my fender jaguar.
- my dan armstrong guitar (like the one dave grohl has an sg sticker on)
- kelly's peavey fury 6 sunburst quilttop bass.
- my shitty ibanez bass.
- my old style beer sign.
- about 50 vinyl albums

i called the cops and they showed up at 3:30 in the morning. detectives were called in and i told them all what was missing, my whereabouts, and who has/used to have keys to the building. the detectives were finally gone at 7am. what a motherfucker of a night that was.

so here i am, all my favorite things in the world are gone. all the stories i wrote - gone. all my digital pictures - gone. my itunes library (which had taken over a year to assemble into a powerhouse of awesome music) - gone. i got cleaned out big time. twice in one day. that ipod was my baby, my life. the guitars were worth about $1000 each. i don't even know what records are missing, too much pain to go through them to figure it all out.

fuck.

so that's life. i have renter's insurance, but not much faith in that. i'm wiped out. badly. i couldn't even cry that night. i mustered a laugh. it was too rediculous to be true, i couldn't believe it. but today, on tuesday, sitting at the coffeehouse computer it finally feels real. and i still can't cry.