Saturday, October 26, 2013

Innocuous Basterds Episode 1

T'was a good evening in NW PDX last night for our first "organized" episode. We have finally given the show a name - "Innocuous Basterds". It's pretty much who we are. All in all, I have to say it was a good effort. In time, we'll add more to the show - hopefully with input from the army of degenerates we hope to gather in the future. 

Anyway, here's how it went:

Obamacare, Pet Peeves, Bullshit PDX, and Phone a Friend: (this week, it was our friend Kimberly Allen nee Viernes; yes, she recently married). Enjoy!

https://soundcloud.com/jonamado/sounds-from-friday-evening

Saturday, October 19, 2013

Podcast Project

This podcast represents our pilot episode. Future installments will be more organized and a bit less rambling. :)

https://soundcloud.com/jonamado/inaugural-episode-alcoholic/s-bzp9v

Our premise is to provide a bit of useless entertainment (duh), by discussing current events, pet peeves, bad movies, and other various sundries - some of which will be provided by friends (someday we may even have a few listeners!).

Thursday, October 17, 2013

Afternoon Leaves

Rusted away, last night's dreams...
floating along the makeshift gutter's stream
like afternoon leaves on the fell wind,

Brown eyes reflected in a glassy stare,
her orange umbrella cast a shadow,
with a red handle in the pouring rain,
a waterfall cascade,
but still the blue in the skies
it was just that time of year...

Deathly yellow sun, pasted close
on the blackened pavement,
as she boarded the train, searching for
a clean seat
her legs wearied by the long game
she saw him once again, as she always did;
he smelled of the mists,
a poor soul, with endless travails
and a wry smile

Another night on the 5:15, she thought...
missed glances, and paper minds,
destined never to meet,
or wanting to meet for that matter...
it was just something to make the trip,

It was her stop, she turned towards the door,
Still their eyes met as the doors closed
"I'll see you again tomorrow, won't I?" she said
Unspoken

"Till then."