(Oh, and let it load first.)

Ted Bartlett is back with his 3 and most heart-pumping album to date!

Ted’s back with his second album, and it’s going to be BIG.

Here’s a little comedy from the Joe’s Convenience audio archive.  During my time with Joe’s, we created hundreds of audio bits which served as interstitial material between sketches in live shows. Here’s one, called “Ted Bartlett”. It’s 1 of 3, so stay tuned!

Oh, and if you’re wondering what the list of blue hyperlinks are beneath this post?  Someone hacked my site and I’m trying to get rid of it.  I’d suggest NOT clicking on any of them.

Peace

Well, I got a job.

I haven’t tweeted in a month.

I’m getting a divorce.

I’m playing more acoustic guitar.

My kid is amazing.

I read a book.

I started reading a second book.

I rode my bike.

You know?

It’s all a little beautiful

a little preposterous

a little tragic.

“May we live in interesting times.”

(Yes.  We may.)

I’m not doing exactly what I thought I’d be doing

But I’m starting to see why.

Matter of Time 2010

I treat myself to pleasure.

I treat myself to diversion.

I treat myself to gratification.

And together, they work to stave off the heart-crushing futility

that is current human evolution.

OK, hit this for some drive time acoustic music.

It’s called “Bigger Than”

I recorded it with my phone.

Thanks  for  listening.

Bigger Than

I think this room could grow on me.  I think this room actually IS literally growing on me.  I need some bleach.  And a vacuum. List. Make a list.  Bleach and a vacuum and a lamp.  This is night three in a room lit by the silvery grey light of an LED headlamp.  I feel like a Chilean Miner.  And the bathroom needs to be cleaned badly.  Just disinfected, maybe torn out.  And I need to buy soap.  I washed with Palmolive this week.  I am a bachelor once more.

Right beside the bathroom is a storage room. Don’t open the door and for god’s sake don’t look in if you do. It’s like fucking Chernobyl in there.  Broken chairs and books and dirty walked on blinds lying on bare concrete, a few remaining blotches of linoleum and bags of shit that someone just gave up on and started jamming inside of other bags.  Jesus Christ.

The first night I was going to sleep I realized I had no music player, no internet, and no radio.  The only thing I could dial in was a police scanner.  I fell asleep listening to the LAPD and the people of LA doing battle all night long.

I am lucky to have a free room.

There was a time

She would ask

for a t-shirt

He’d worn

To keep under her pillow

While he was gone.

There was a time,

not so long ago

Only forever