saturday's word of the day from dictionary.com
crapulous \KRAP-yuh-lus\, adjective:
1. Suffering the effects of, or derived from, or suggestive of gross intemperance, especially in drinking; as, a crapulous stomach.
2. Marked by gross intemperance, especially in drinking; as, a crapulous old [1]reprobate.
let's all use it in a sentence!
13 March 2006
we watch west wing and grey's anatomy
iraqis get bombed.
speaking of which, OMG, josh and donna!! what a ho, giving him her room key, though. donatella, i thought more of you!
speaking of which, OMG, josh and donna!! what a ho, giving him her room key, though. donatella, i thought more of you!
10 March 2006
lovely day, lovely day, lovely day, love-ly day
it's fucking awesome outside! huzzah! stella and i lunched in the park. we were watching the ducks slide around on the ice in the lake and i said something about how awesome it would be to do that. and i realized, it's no passing fad. i really do want to be a duck. bad.
why don't you come with me, little girl, on a magic subway ride
D trains are uptown C trains after w4th street.
that's sort of it.
i had a really weird dream i was in union square but i'd just got out of the shower. but the whole of the station was wet like the whole thing was a shower. and the uptown express train track was filled up with a trash train. i guess that's not really that strange, after all.
Safety reminder of the week: Walking between cars is not only dangerous; it is also against the law.
yes, the mta just lay down the grammatical smack and used a fucking semicolon.
that's sort of it.
i had a really weird dream i was in union square but i'd just got out of the shower. but the whole of the station was wet like the whole thing was a shower. and the uptown express train track was filled up with a trash train. i guess that's not really that strange, after all.
Safety reminder of the week: Walking between cars is not only dangerous; it is also against the law.
yes, the mta just lay down the grammatical smack and used a fucking semicolon.
i never knew until tonight that the world had gone so daft with this nonsense
being the supportive friend that i am, i went to see the heights players' production of everyone's favorite author miller play about idiots panicking, the crucible.
xx and i met at city hall park and walked over the bridge, where i shot some very blurry photos in that awesomely weird light that was going on last night. i have to shout out to the little bakery on henry, cranberry's, cause they make some retarded good chocolate cake.
so anyway, it was an open rehearsal. jdog had informed me prior that this particular performance would be attended by two groups of high school students. i thought it would be funny to not mention this to xx (who is a teacher) until we got there. she was less than pleased with me.
it was like being at a taping of "saved by the bell". remember how whenever anyone would kiss on that show, everyone in the audience was all "wooooo"? that's what these kids were all about, only triggered by the words "arse", "whore" and any mention of killing anyone. it was actually very entertaining because these kids were getting into it in their own way. sure, it was a little annoying to tune out the din of constant conversation going on throughout the whole 3 hour episode, but every time i saw a kid do that snappy thing they do when someone delivered a line, it made me giggle.
during the intermission, we were privelidged enough to witness the birth of the newest insult in the new york high school scene: "girl, you look like a pilgrim". watch for it soon on the OC.
xx, jdog and i hopped the 63 back to el slopo and had the requisite coupla' at commonwealth. but go me: today is the first day this week i didn't sleep right the fuck through my alarm. god i need sleep.
xx and i met at city hall park and walked over the bridge, where i shot some very blurry photos in that awesomely weird light that was going on last night. i have to shout out to the little bakery on henry, cranberry's, cause they make some retarded good chocolate cake.
so anyway, it was an open rehearsal. jdog had informed me prior that this particular performance would be attended by two groups of high school students. i thought it would be funny to not mention this to xx (who is a teacher) until we got there. she was less than pleased with me.
it was like being at a taping of "saved by the bell". remember how whenever anyone would kiss on that show, everyone in the audience was all "wooooo"? that's what these kids were all about, only triggered by the words "arse", "whore" and any mention of killing anyone. it was actually very entertaining because these kids were getting into it in their own way. sure, it was a little annoying to tune out the din of constant conversation going on throughout the whole 3 hour episode, but every time i saw a kid do that snappy thing they do when someone delivered a line, it made me giggle.
during the intermission, we were privelidged enough to witness the birth of the newest insult in the new york high school scene: "girl, you look like a pilgrim". watch for it soon on the OC.
xx, jdog and i hopped the 63 back to el slopo and had the requisite coupla' at commonwealth. but go me: today is the first day this week i didn't sleep right the fuck through my alarm. god i need sleep.
09 March 2006
this begs the question, why not just sign a shitload of books and then ship them to the stores?
margaret atwood has a pen that signs books from across the room. or across the pond. it sounds pretty fucking stupid to me, but i don't really go for autographed copies of books anyway.
Anxious minutes later, Atwood picked up a pen to autograph her new short story collection, The Tent, for Nigel Newton, chief executive of her British publisher, Bloomsbury. She wrote the words on an electronic pad while chatting to Newton over a video linkup.
A few seconds later in another part of the exhibition center, two spindly metal arms clutching a pen reproduced the words onto Newton's book in Atwood's angular scrawl: "For Nigel, with best wishes, Margaret Atwood."
Anxious minutes later, Atwood picked up a pen to autograph her new short story collection, The Tent, for Nigel Newton, chief executive of her British publisher, Bloomsbury. She wrote the words on an electronic pad while chatting to Newton over a video linkup.
A few seconds later in another part of the exhibition center, two spindly metal arms clutching a pen reproduced the words onto Newton's book in Atwood's angular scrawl: "For Nigel, with best wishes, Margaret Atwood."
drove the pressie to the levee but the levee had broken about 48 hours earlier
our president and his ipod.
http://youtube.com/watch?v=Gb7iOvS7Akc&search=bush%20ipod
question: is it worse to own the don mclean song "american pie" or to call him dan mclean?
with gratitute towards a yeti named jerry
http://youtube.com/watch?v=Gb7iOvS7Akc&search=bush%20ipod
question: is it worse to own the don mclean song "american pie" or to call him dan mclean?
with gratitute towards a yeti named jerry
it's a creeper double feature
it's time to admit it, i'm getting a little tired of webster hall. i feel like i'm there all the freaking time. what's up with these bands? book yourselves somewhere else. i like bowery ballroom, so let's try that one on for size. luckily the next two shows are elsewhere. but then it's back for the magic numbers & the elected.
west river and i caught the last three or so songs of inara george's (is that even her name? i'm too blase to even check) set. i placed her somewhere between suzanne vega and beth orton, both musically and physically. west river posed the "beth orton's younger, less talented little sister" theory, and we stuck with that.
so first off about Rogue Wave. Zach Rogue needs a shower. or a comb. or something. also, he should buy a new t shirt. even ask the merch table if maybe he can get a nada surf t. (it's really gauche to wear the shirt of your own band.) they really were not on top of their game last night. the first two or so songs were just not tight. it was almost like they were each playing along with a radio that was next to them, instead of with each other. and it hurts me to say things like this about a band i so enjoy. however, they managed to pull it together by the fourth song or so, after which point they sounded really good. it would have been real nice to hear 10:1 or endgame, but i had to be content with bird on a wire, endless shovel, publish my love, every moment, you (which came out much better live than i ever thought it could), love's lost guarantee, medicine ball and that's all i can remember at the moment. they did some chinese fire drill action a couple of times and the drummer/bassist/keyboardist switched around with the guitarist/keyboardist/drummer and the other guy. they're a funny looking bunch of guys. a bit older than most of the bands running around these days, and very calm. their stage presense reminded me a lot of built to spill, but that's probably because one of the dudes kind of looked like their lead singer.
it will be exciting to see RW on their own tour. while quite a few people seemed familiar with the band last night, i'll be happy to be in a room surrounded by people who think they are the bees knees and are all singing along, instead of just me singing along and being the only one for at least five people in all directions doing so.
i'll just say this once. this band is worth checking out. i will even make you a sampler cd if you ask nicely. perhaps even if you demand it rudely.
DEAR GUY IN FRONT OF US:
Stop talking to the six people you came with. saying "they are soooo good" every five seconds does not enhance anyone's, namely my, experience of the show. as a matter of fact, we find it irritating when morons like you come to a show and talk the whole fucking way through it. you are at a fucking gig, dude, the point is to listen to the fucking band! also, there is no smoking in webster hall. you wanna fire up your j that's ok by me, but you really don't need to chain smoke through the whole gig. i managed to suffer through it without a fag, and so can bloody you. you can also go outside to smoke. you're not in high school, it does not make you super awesome because you're too cool to follow the fucking rules about smoking indoors. also, you are tempting me to grab your cigarette from you and return it to you by mashing the lit end into the back of your neck. if you realize what song it is and that you really like said song, please do not jump up and down like a fifteen year old girl. i want to get violent when they do it and since you're a mid-30s gay man it seems only fair that i actually get violent with you. your friends are also kind of annoyed with you. the guy to your left with the longish hair, leave him alone, he's jammin' out. the guy to your right with the hoodie can enjoy the show without your constant commentary. and please, for the love of god, stop pulling the girl in front of the girl in front of you back so you can talk to her, she wants to punch you in the face. no, wait, that's me, but she probably does too. also, you better consider yourself damn freaking lucky that you pulled all that arms in the air, throwing peace signs, shrieking and leaning way back, thereby invading my very protected personal space during a fucking song with lyrics that say "always love", because if you'd done it at any other point in the show i would have strangled you. NB: our experience with this man is a prime example of why this blog is called "bag of rocks".
ok, so on to nada surf. until rather recently the only thing i knew about these guys was they did that song "popular" that came out when i was in college or hs. and i liked that song. generally i think novelty songs are stupid (this is a person who, obviously with great error, wrote off both weezer and the flaming lips as useless gimmick bands, so go figure), but there was something about the scathing sarcasm coating all the lyrics to that song that always made me smile. and the fact that apparently the words came from an actual book that earnestly suggested such idiocy was pretty much right up my "the only thing to do in this situation is laugh" alley.
i knew there had been a great movement for the band since its "popular" days, but i didn't really know where they were then and so had no preconceived notion other than evidentley these guys can be funny when they want to be. it's a really good album, and the more i listen to "let go" the more i think that one is pretty awesome, too. anyway, i'm taking the long way round here. Nada Surf are a good band, and they are a very good live band.
they were clearly stoked to be in new york, as they are from this fair city. there were stories about when webster hall was the ritz and the shows they'd seen there as kids, and how it looked bigger now than it had when they were younger. they also had six gigantic mirrors. two were behind the drummer, which was awesome, because i love watching the drummers and they're usually at the worst angle. it was a little bizzare though. anyway, they played a lot of stuff: do it again, concrete bed, blankest year (during which the members of RW and inara george and her peeps came out and danced around), blizzard of '77, inside of love, fruit fly, blonde on blonde, the way you wear your head, what is your secret, your legs grow (which is stunningly lovely live), paper boats, imaginary friends, look in the mirror, always love (see above where this song saved a man who thought it necessary to pump his fist in the air during every word of the chorus's life) and i'm sure some more i'm forgetting.
in the covers category, they treated us to a fairly bearable rendition of the smiths' "there is a light that never goes out" and at one point went into "love will tear us apart" during another song. they played until 130, at which point i was praying for them to stop because i was so tired. but i was sad when they actually did.
of course, the old mta had me home in a timely way and i got to bed about 3 am (yes, i was being sarcastic).
west river and i caught the last three or so songs of inara george's (is that even her name? i'm too blase to even check) set. i placed her somewhere between suzanne vega and beth orton, both musically and physically. west river posed the "beth orton's younger, less talented little sister" theory, and we stuck with that.
so first off about Rogue Wave. Zach Rogue needs a shower. or a comb. or something. also, he should buy a new t shirt. even ask the merch table if maybe he can get a nada surf t. (it's really gauche to wear the shirt of your own band.) they really were not on top of their game last night. the first two or so songs were just not tight. it was almost like they were each playing along with a radio that was next to them, instead of with each other. and it hurts me to say things like this about a band i so enjoy. however, they managed to pull it together by the fourth song or so, after which point they sounded really good. it would have been real nice to hear 10:1 or endgame, but i had to be content with bird on a wire, endless shovel, publish my love, every moment, you (which came out much better live than i ever thought it could), love's lost guarantee, medicine ball and that's all i can remember at the moment. they did some chinese fire drill action a couple of times and the drummer/bassist/keyboardist switched around with the guitarist/keyboardist/drummer and the other guy. they're a funny looking bunch of guys. a bit older than most of the bands running around these days, and very calm. their stage presense reminded me a lot of built to spill, but that's probably because one of the dudes kind of looked like their lead singer.
it will be exciting to see RW on their own tour. while quite a few people seemed familiar with the band last night, i'll be happy to be in a room surrounded by people who think they are the bees knees and are all singing along, instead of just me singing along and being the only one for at least five people in all directions doing so.
i'll just say this once. this band is worth checking out. i will even make you a sampler cd if you ask nicely. perhaps even if you demand it rudely.
DEAR GUY IN FRONT OF US:
Stop talking to the six people you came with. saying "they are soooo good" every five seconds does not enhance anyone's, namely my, experience of the show. as a matter of fact, we find it irritating when morons like you come to a show and talk the whole fucking way through it. you are at a fucking gig, dude, the point is to listen to the fucking band! also, there is no smoking in webster hall. you wanna fire up your j that's ok by me, but you really don't need to chain smoke through the whole gig. i managed to suffer through it without a fag, and so can bloody you. you can also go outside to smoke. you're not in high school, it does not make you super awesome because you're too cool to follow the fucking rules about smoking indoors. also, you are tempting me to grab your cigarette from you and return it to you by mashing the lit end into the back of your neck. if you realize what song it is and that you really like said song, please do not jump up and down like a fifteen year old girl. i want to get violent when they do it and since you're a mid-30s gay man it seems only fair that i actually get violent with you. your friends are also kind of annoyed with you. the guy to your left with the longish hair, leave him alone, he's jammin' out. the guy to your right with the hoodie can enjoy the show without your constant commentary. and please, for the love of god, stop pulling the girl in front of the girl in front of you back so you can talk to her, she wants to punch you in the face. no, wait, that's me, but she probably does too. also, you better consider yourself damn freaking lucky that you pulled all that arms in the air, throwing peace signs, shrieking and leaning way back, thereby invading my very protected personal space during a fucking song with lyrics that say "always love", because if you'd done it at any other point in the show i would have strangled you. NB: our experience with this man is a prime example of why this blog is called "bag of rocks".
ok, so on to nada surf. until rather recently the only thing i knew about these guys was they did that song "popular" that came out when i was in college or hs. and i liked that song. generally i think novelty songs are stupid (this is a person who, obviously with great error, wrote off both weezer and the flaming lips as useless gimmick bands, so go figure), but there was something about the scathing sarcasm coating all the lyrics to that song that always made me smile. and the fact that apparently the words came from an actual book that earnestly suggested such idiocy was pretty much right up my "the only thing to do in this situation is laugh" alley.
i knew there had been a great movement for the band since its "popular" days, but i didn't really know where they were then and so had no preconceived notion other than evidentley these guys can be funny when they want to be. it's a really good album, and the more i listen to "let go" the more i think that one is pretty awesome, too. anyway, i'm taking the long way round here. Nada Surf are a good band, and they are a very good live band.
they were clearly stoked to be in new york, as they are from this fair city. there were stories about when webster hall was the ritz and the shows they'd seen there as kids, and how it looked bigger now than it had when they were younger. they also had six gigantic mirrors. two were behind the drummer, which was awesome, because i love watching the drummers and they're usually at the worst angle. it was a little bizzare though. anyway, they played a lot of stuff: do it again, concrete bed, blankest year (during which the members of RW and inara george and her peeps came out and danced around), blizzard of '77, inside of love, fruit fly, blonde on blonde, the way you wear your head, what is your secret, your legs grow (which is stunningly lovely live), paper boats, imaginary friends, look in the mirror, always love (see above where this song saved a man who thought it necessary to pump his fist in the air during every word of the chorus's life) and i'm sure some more i'm forgetting.
in the covers category, they treated us to a fairly bearable rendition of the smiths' "there is a light that never goes out" and at one point went into "love will tear us apart" during another song. they played until 130, at which point i was praying for them to stop because i was so tired. but i was sad when they actually did.
of course, the old mta had me home in a timely way and i got to bed about 3 am (yes, i was being sarcastic).
08 March 2006
it's like i'm sitting here, waiting for birds to sing
c'mon, let's do it again, pulheeese, let's do it again.
or even, for the first time. T-minus 4 hours til west river and i are basking in the hipsterest, poppiest, probably-all-younger-than-i-am-est crowd i've had to put up with in a while. at least since stars.
full report on nada surf et rogue wave on le morrow.
or even, for the first time. T-minus 4 hours til west river and i are basking in the hipsterest, poppiest, probably-all-younger-than-i-am-est crowd i've had to put up with in a while. at least since stars.
full report on nada surf et rogue wave on le morrow.
I 285 westbound's a little sluggish
wow. as a former resident of the atl, i am familiar with the leadfoot ways of southern drivers. it's certainly normal to go 75 running through downtown on the connector, and don't even talk about what goes on on sr400.
but some dudes got together and decided to drive four abreast (taking up all the lanes of the perimeter) and drive the speed limit--55mph. and they filmed it. you can really see just how freaking slow 55 is.
(goldenfiddle)
but some dudes got together and decided to drive four abreast (taking up all the lanes of the perimeter) and drive the speed limit--55mph. and they filmed it. you can really see just how freaking slow 55 is.
(goldenfiddle)
yeah, you got the style, and we got the style
ok, so chick fil goes after all the evangies, mcdonald's is coming home to the jews.
also:
for some reason, i think "cosmetology" should be the only option on this ad.
also:
for some reason, i think "cosmetology" should be the only option on this ad.
eat more christians-er, chicken
i used to work at chick-fil-a. i was totally promoted to overlord of the drive-thru. i got to boss people around and eat chicken nuggets and that lemon pie all day. it was fucking rad. what was also rad, as a jew, was that i never had to work sundays. perhaps that actually appealed to the "lazy" and not the "jew" in me, but whatevs. i knew truett cathy or whatever was a big bible thumping freakazoid, but I NEVER HAD TO WORK ON A SUNDAY, and that was good enough for me.
chick-fil-a's christian allegiances never bothered me none, i was never forced to pray at work, as a matter of fact, as the chick where i worked was located in a pretty jewed up 'hood in the atl, there were a number of other heathens working there. they had some good scholorships too as i recall.
but this is kinda weird. bring your church bulletin and get a free sannie (w/purchase of a combo meal)? of course, it's happening in tejas.
chick-fil-a's christian allegiances never bothered me none, i was never forced to pray at work, as a matter of fact, as the chick where i worked was located in a pretty jewed up 'hood in the atl, there were a number of other heathens working there. they had some good scholorships too as i recall.
but this is kinda weird. bring your church bulletin and get a free sannie (w/purchase of a combo meal)? of course, it's happening in tejas.
rss dvr?
ok, so i was just noticing that Sons & Daughters premiered last night without me noticing. i was blissfully unawares watching the (unintentionally) hilarious first episode ever of the West Wing followed by 2+ hours of getting mad at stanley kubrick for really doing a massive disservice to the book with his self-aggrandizing version of a clockwork orange. and i didn't even really like the book in the first place. but i now understand the less-than-warm mentions of kubrick's version in the foreward. anyway. the point is, i now have to remember to set the dvr for next week's sons & daughters, but sometimes it won't let you do anything for a show that's over a week ahead. so i might have to walk around with "s&d" written on my hand for the next five days, which is just odd, even for me. this is a problem i have all the time. i hear about some shit that's on that i want to dvr, but it's not available on the stupid dvr menu yet...
TimeWarner, I challenge thee: make it possible to set my dvr from the interweb. think of it, you read some review of a show or what-have-you, you go to the home page of your dvr and click on some shit and then it records. this is brilliant. i am brilliant. conversely, you could put a little button on the homepages of shows, like the rss buttons, and it hooks you up auto-style. good lord, someone give me money for this idea!
see? tivo's sort of got the idea.
TimeWarner, I challenge thee: make it possible to set my dvr from the interweb. think of it, you read some review of a show or what-have-you, you go to the home page of your dvr and click on some shit and then it records. this is brilliant. i am brilliant. conversely, you could put a little button on the homepages of shows, like the rss buttons, and it hooks you up auto-style. good lord, someone give me money for this idea!
see? tivo's sort of got the idea.
07 March 2006
there's so much weird news, i'm putting it all here for YOU!!
wal-mart co-opts the blogosphere. and in true wal-mart fashion, they do not compensate the bloggers.
the only minnesota twin i've ever loved, kirby puckett, has gone to iowa.
today's bombing: india.
step 1: at&t births the baby bells
step 2: baby bells sbc and bellsouth grow and beget cingular
step 3: baby bells and cingular buy at&t
what the butt? something tells me i still won't get a signal at my apt.
shotgun weddings, food stamps and welfare soon to be all the rage in south dakota.
but none of it matters, cause we're all gonna die.
don't bogart that wi-fi, man. see, if all you people were smart, you'd just work out a compromise, like you have unlimited access to your neighbor's deck, and they hump your wi-fi whenever they want!
the only minnesota twin i've ever loved, kirby puckett, has gone to iowa.
today's bombing: india.
step 1: at&t births the baby bells
step 2: baby bells sbc and bellsouth grow and beget cingular
step 3: baby bells and cingular buy at&t
what the butt? something tells me i still won't get a signal at my apt.
shotgun weddings, food stamps and welfare soon to be all the rage in south dakota.
but none of it matters, cause we're all gonna die.
don't bogart that wi-fi, man. see, if all you people were smart, you'd just work out a compromise, like you have unlimited access to your neighbor's deck, and they hump your wi-fi whenever they want!
i think winning might actually be everything
we went into last night's double header 0-2 and left it 1-3. i'll tell you what, i'll take being the randomly awesome team over being last-season's-almost-unbeatable-team-who-can't-seem-to-get-their-shit-together-this-season any day.
i wasn't rolling much of anything, but considering i was literally barely awake, i'm cutting myself some slack. and there was one or two in there. the first game was a toughy and with a little less bad luck, i'm pretty sure it could've been ours, but not so.
luckily the second game proved to be our breakthrough. things seemed to gel a little bit more, or at least i finally figured out how to compensate for the hard bank left followed by the hard bank right on the court.
some of you are aware that i've learned my "talking smack on the internets" lesson, but there's a new "flock" in town this season...
anyway, i hadn't realized just how annoying it was to be a loser until i was a winner again. the euphoria that came when the last ball rolled into place, securing our point, it's goooooood. and massively better than the feeling i'd experienced scant 2 hours earlier when mayor ed bocce (no' bad, eh?) gave us a bit of an ass fuck.
manlio and i are agreeing on lots today.
i wasn't rolling much of anything, but considering i was literally barely awake, i'm cutting myself some slack. and there was one or two in there. the first game was a toughy and with a little less bad luck, i'm pretty sure it could've been ours, but not so.
luckily the second game proved to be our breakthrough. things seemed to gel a little bit more, or at least i finally figured out how to compensate for the hard bank left followed by the hard bank right on the court.
some of you are aware that i've learned my "talking smack on the internets" lesson, but there's a new "flock" in town this season...
anyway, i hadn't realized just how annoying it was to be a loser until i was a winner again. the euphoria that came when the last ball rolled into place, securing our point, it's goooooood. and massively better than the feeling i'd experienced scant 2 hours earlier when mayor ed bocce (no' bad, eh?) gave us a bit of an ass fuck.
manlio and i are agreeing on lots today.
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