long live longevity

You're afraid of what you need... If you weren't...Then I don't know what we'd talk about

2010-06-17T16:09:00.002-04:00

ME VS. THE EYE EXAM

‘Mr. Coyle? This is Lafayette Hill Eye Care and we just wanted to inform you that you can’t order contact lenses until you get another eye exam. It’s been over a year since we last checked your eyes. You’re going to have to make an appointment.’

This is my first issue. I can still see fine with my current prescription. I’m not bumping into walls or mistaking rodents for house pets. Do I really need to come into the office again? It’s not like this year has been filled with ocular madness.

I have to wait over a month for an appointment, and I finally arrive on a sunny Saturday afternoon. The waiting room holds an old style Pac-Man arcade game, which has to be bad for your eyes. I’ve always wanted to step up and play, but why would I strain my peepers staring at a chomping Yellow circle evading ghosts minutes before sitting in that dreaded chair? So about 35 minutes later they call my name and I’m lead to a sterile room filled with ugly illustrated posters of eye infections.

A young woman comes in the room wearing scrubs and starts asking me the usual questions. Are you allergic? Do you have any diseases? Your thoughts on metaphysics? She then instructs me to hold a black plastic spoon looking thing over my left eye and hands me a card filled with random sentences. The card has fonts ranging from monster to mini. This card has been handed to me every fucking time I get my eyes checked. I practically know the last sentence. It’s about popcorn kernels containing a certain amount of water, which leads to them popping when heated. WHY? Because the water inside the kernel turns to steam, this causes the kernel to pop.

I start reading and she immediately tells me the card is too close to my face. I then place it on my lap, and she tells me it’s too far. She then decides to hold to card up for me. I have bad eyes, not bad hands. So I read the sentence about popcorn kernels and she looks at me and says, ‘You know…those are all true facts on that card.”

HOLY SHIT….YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!

Then the lights go down, no candle is light, but she holds a pen light in her hand. She gets so close to my face that our noses are about to touch and starts shining the light in my eyes. Then it hit me.

Her breath was fucking awful.

I make it a point to have gum or a mint in my mouth whenever I go there. I know they are going to be close, so I prepare. I’m just an ornery patient, but this is her job, her breath should smell amazing. It should remind me of the beach and the fresh air in the mountains. All it did was compliment the massive pictures of oozing sties hanging from the walls.

When that torture is over the Ophthalmologist comes in the room for the ever-so popular ‘Read that line of letters’ test. The eye chart appears on the wall via some archaic projection system and I’m asked to read the bottom line with my right eye covered.

‘P…T...G…H…B’

Every time I get it right she responds like I’m a child who just learned to go potty. ‘WOW…THAT’S GREAT. YOU’RE DOING AMAZING!’

Then I am asked to cover my left eye and read some more letters.

‘P…T…G…H…B’

It wasn’t hard because I said the same thing two seconds before. I could have covered both eyes and passed with flying colors. Why don’t they switch the charts when you switch eyes? Nobody wants to get it wrong, so even if they are struggling they’re still going to repeat the letters. How hasn’t this issue been raised yet? And has it led to people having wonky eyes?

Then my face is placed in some contraption that looks like something Egon wore in ‘Ghostbusters’ and once again the doctor nears my face. I try not the breath out my nose, but I can’t hold it anymore and get a whiff. She should have a never ending supply of Altoids in her lab coat. She’s the top dog in the office and has worse breath that the last woman.

She then puts drops in my eyes that burn like the sun and does some more tests. My prescription hasn’t changed (no shit) and I’m ready to step out into the world with some fresh lenses. However she forgot to tell me that the drops would make my eyes sensitive to light. As soon as I start driving, I start screaming. I can’t see the road, start swerving like a drunk idiot in the middle of the day and almost kill myself and other drivers. It took about ten minutes of writhing around car before I could see properly again.

So I was teased by a video game, forced to sit in an uncomfortable chair, showered with halitosis, and almost died in a car accident just to learn my prescription hadn’t changed in over a year. Amazing.

I'm Happy...Hope You're Happy Too

2010-03-04T16:26:00.003-05:00

NAÏVE MELODY

We stumbled into the gray dorm with the coordination of a baby fawn. The soda machines glowed bright next to the community bathrooms. I am sure we stopped along the way, avoiding a public urination fine from the campus police clad in bike helmets and heavy-duty fanny packs. The bathroom was surprisingly clean for a Saturday night and we held ourselves up before the urinals by leaning on the speckled dividers. I leaned too hard, belly full of beer and cafeteria food, and heard the sound of plastic cracking. Ryan looked over and chuckled before leaning into another divider.

We both hit the floor chuckling next to shattered urinal dividers. Out of breath and wheezing with laughter Ryan stepped in front of the mirror. He lifted his right arm, pointing at the line of blood creping down his arm. His wide grin lingered in front of the mirror as I picked up the broken divider and fired it up into the fluorescent lights above. A cloud of white dust and glass showered the top of my head. It was my time before the mirror.

I shook my head sending glass fragments onto the tiled floor. I didn’t have any blood to show, but my grin was just as strong.

I then assumed a three-point stance and sent myself into the side of one of the stalls. Bolts snapped and skipped across the floor. I was left laying belly down on a cold light-brown piece of hollow metal. I didn’t feel a thing and rolled onto the floor laughing maniacally.

Ryan and I are high school friends who went to different colleges in the same city. His school was filled with stone buildings that held the reverence of castles. It was a school that held soon –to-be presidents and cancer curers. A school that would have scoffed at my SAT’s.

My school was a far ride down the Metro amongst once gorgeous dilapidated homes and corner bars. Everyone looked the same and drank beer together on the weekends at the same place. Wearing sweatpants everywhere was the norm.

Ryan assumed the same three-point stance and leapt before crashing through the hollow metal of the second stall. He growled like a cat in heat, wind knocked right out of his gut. I fell to the ground laughing, leering at the third stall, imagining its fate.

The destruction of the third stall left my sweater ripped from shoulder to hip. Ryan noticed first. His blood stained arm aimed at the casualty of war.

With his last bit of gusto Ryan destroyed the fourth stall with ease. He stood over the rubble, gnarled hands above his head, violently catching his breath.

The bathroom was left with at least hundreds of dollars in damage and an awful mess for an unsuspecting janitor. We were first semester freshmen and this was one of the most exciting nights we had all year. Getting into a bar with a good fake ID, and heading back to the dorms with drunk anger and aggression blowing out of our ears. This is all we knew and what we lived for.

Ten years later and I look back upon that night with guilt and wonderment. Why would I run through a bathroom like a wild hungry beast smashing through everything before me?

As college moved along I stopped visiting this school filled with castles. Ryan was there, but I didn’t belong there. I leaned against the bars alone wondering if people were whispering about me. My future was bleaker than theirs. My sweater had a big rip in it.

That cannon ball of a night was inferiority firing out of my pores. I knew early on that my school was a long way down the Metro. Sometimes I wonder if Ryan was feeling the same way. Did he want to smash that whole place with an axe? Part of me thinks he did, but then again…I started it.

'Max knew his animal kingdom, but he had no names for these beasts.' - Eggers

Put Your Hands On The Wheel...Let The Golden Age Begin

2009-12-21T17:59:00.017-05:00

Ohh 2009….you gave us so much!

Susan Boyle’s warbling, Rhianna’s bruises, generic “R.I.P. Michael Jackson” t-shirts, Jon and Kate’s despicable hairplugs and mom cut and Tiger Tiger Woods Y’all. Twitter got wittier and jaded folks now express their longings through Facebook posts. People worried about getting some popular flu as we awaited a long winded, but eventually stunted Health Care plan. It’s the end of a simply fucked up decade.

A decade that makes the 90’s look like R.E.M.’s Shiny Happy People was played on repeat to the dot com boom and Bill Clinton’s transgressions. We will now forever be: Post 9/11 America. A nation supported on shrugging shoulders as we wake up to the 2010’s, sleeping with one eye open. We formerly woke up to nightmares of metropolitan rubble and bloated bodies floating past looters of underwater cities. But these nightmares must soon turn to stories we share or keep close to our chests watching the next decade rise or fall like a fiery sun.

Look past the Obama backlash (it’s arrived and going to get worse). Look past ‘sexting’ and social networking. Look past recession small talk and people becoming famous for wanting to be famous. Look past your Blackberry and iPhone. Look past celebrity infidelity. Look past the past.

So here is my list of the best of 2009! (I am possibly going to compile a best of the decade list…possibly)

MUSIC:

Songs:

Bat For Lashes, Daniel

She is trying to reinvent the music video era for the Youtube generation, which is amazing and needed, but I am still going to watch the Jersey Shore…MTV is good for at least SOMETHING these days. Beautiful lyrics about an obsessed women over dreary synth beats. You wish a significant other longed after you like this.

Kid Cudi, Remix of Pokerface by Lady Gaga

I know…the misogyny in this song is borderline threatening, but man if it doesn’t make me try to dance well. Cudi burst onto the scene with a personal album about a lonely stoner bent on revenge, but will it last? It all depends on when people start hating hipster-hop and whether or not he wants to continue to sing about gold chains.

Animal Collective, In the Flowers

These guys struck a cultural nerve this year by releasing an album that didn’t make people think about taking mushrooms and regretting it. The jump this song makes at 2:31 makes me want to drive my bike into a snow bank while maniacally laughing.

DOOM, Gazillion Ear

The best rapper alive releases an amazing new album that I wrote about earlier in the year.

ALBUMS:

Sunset Rubdown, Drangonslayer

If you know me, you know how obsessed I am with this band. This is by far their poppiest and most accessible work to date, but they remain the same. Why? Because Spencer Krug’s lyrics will trump whatever direction they take without overtaking georgeous musicianship.

Lyrics from You Go On Ahead (Trumpet Trumpet II):

And if there are two eyes in my head,
there are four seasons in a year,
and reflections on the water of a burning yellow sphere.

‘nuff said…

(Video above is Sunset Rubdown playing at the Pitchfork.com office)

Dirty Projectors, Bitte Orca

Where the fuck did this come from? This album rattled my bones with borderline absurd tempo changes and R&B sensibilities. The 3 female vocalists make beat boxing and DJ equipment sound obsolete. I can’t stop listening.

DOOM, Born Like This

DOOM dropped the MF and started quoting Bukowski. I think that is all I need to say.

Swan Lake, Enemy Mine

Three beasts get together, write songs about dead friends, lost love and growing old. I am still deciphering the lyrics, but I am not even sure if I really want to. Previous blog mentions.

TV:

This is the year that I actually started watching TV shows regularly, and I picked a great season.

In 5 words of less:

Community on NBC: 2nd best ensemble cast EVER. (Arrested Development is number 1 kids)

Parks and Recreation on NBC: Aziz Ansiri and Aubrey Plaza

Modern Family on ABC: Hilarious and not self aware

Intervention on A&E: Prepare to cry alot

Jersey Shore on MTV: The Situation and Pauly D

MOVIES:

Stark Trek

Sizzled from the pulsating opening sequence and didn’t lose an ounce of steam. J.J. Abrams found the perfect way to explain a franchise reboot without ruining the franchise: TIME TRAVEL! Why didn’t someone think about his before?

Where The Wild Things Are

The confusion of childhood has never been realized like this. Spike Jonze continues to make films with an ethereal quality, while being grounded in humanism. James Gandolfini’s performance as Carol is just as good as anything he did on the Soprano’s.

The Fantastic Mr. Fox

Stop motion animation, Wes Anderson, Roald Dahl and George Clooney. How could this not be good? Anderson’s trademark touch is evident without being overbearing.

Other exciting ‘09 things:

The MUPPETS ARE BACK! They have a Youtube Channel. In this world of CGI ‘puppetry’ the Muppets still manage to have more soul than an Avatar.

This amazing picture of Al Gore:

She must not believe in global warming...poor lil girl

Have a wonderful holiday, thanks for reading, and lets move forward.

I believe in growing old with grace

2009-08-23T22:03:00.001-04:00

I was recently asked to compile my best blogs for a family member. Being selfish I considered them all the best and held off for a couple days. How could I pick the best since 2004? My incessant rambling was sometimes done when I was working a 4 a.m. shift at a radio station. The city slept and I crawled in the office pumped with coffee, eyes bloody from never sleeping, but I wanted to log on. I work a lot of holidays and noticed I wrote one almost every Christmas Eve. I wrote them when nobody was around.

Did you all think I was too self-serving? Was my current mental state glowing behind the digital format? Did my lack of writing skills and grammar make you click the ‘X’ after reading the first few lines? I hoped not. I hoped.

As this summer sizzles along and Philadelphia turns into a tropical state, I haven’t written. The computer has spent many nights staring back at me, blank faced, winning the contest.

A friend of mine, whose thirst for life and adventure I greatly admire, told me never to stop. We were enjoying a cigarette outside a local bar on a drunken Wednesday when he did nothing short of grabbing me by the shoulders and shake my ogre-like frame.

“I’m serious. I was going to sit you done before I left, but you can never stop. You need to keep it up.”

I shook my head and stared at my sneakers.

This year has been filled with wild changes for everyone around me. People continue to get married and have children. People have lost jobs and worked from the ground up to make it happen again. People have lost love, and lost themselves in the process. I have cheesily labeled 2009 as ‘The Year Of Change.’

I moved out of the top floor of tree house I was living in for 3 years. On my last day at the place my car caught on fire as I was driving outside my house. A small trail of fire was left behind my ’92 Camry like a failed time travel experiment. I was left alone with my hands stuck to my skull as the fire department doused my engine. The smoke traveled high and my stomach dropped amidst the chaos. Was it symbolic? Or just awful timing?

I thought soon after that it would be the perfect short story for my blog. I had so much to talk about. So many visuals, but this happened two months ago and my computer grew even dustier. I figured people were sick of hearing me tell the story in person anyway.

So I sit here and read the things I have written to you all before and I wanted to smash my computer with an axe. I want to smash the words and send them scattering across my desk. Black glowing letters would skip across the carpet, be stepped on and eventually thrown away. Microsoft Word would disappear from my desktop and I would just watch YouTube forever.

I decided to put the axe back in the garage with the rest of the tools.

It’s for my friend who went to Cairo because he needed a ‘Jump in some cold water.’ It’s for my family and their massive hearts. It’s for my friends who are happily married and living in beautiful homes. It’s for my friends who are engaged, living life by the seat of their pants and loving every second of it. It’s for my friends who sit at bars and talk to women with confidence. It’s for the music and movies that move me, and my hope that they will move you too. It’s for my car that blew up and my new form of transportation: a red Mongoose bike. It’s for wanting to find love and hoping it never goes away. It’s for sweating inside your apartment without central air, hoping that someday you will reach a point when this is never a problem. It’s for living paycheck to paycheck. It’s for growing old. It’s for remembering what its like to be 12 again.

It’s for all of you.

I write when nobody is around to remember you all. So I would just like to say, thank you.

But like all fireworks and all sunsets,we all burn in different ways

2009-05-26T22:52:00.007-04:00

Is Summer officially here? It’s hard to tell amidst the random balls of weekday lighting and unbearably hot weekends. It’s all a bit confusing, but so is walking down the street for some people. If the change of a season can bring anything…its enlightenment!

So I am going to selfishly share with you some things that have occurred to me as we dust off the t-shirts and become self conscious about pale skin and body types.

NAT GEO Channel

Great channel, perfect couch potato television because you can convince yourself you are actually ‘learning something’ while doing nothing. There are programs on NAT GEO that remind us how beautiful the world can be, but they are now grossly outnumbered by shows about the end of the world. Not only are they filled with impending doom, but they are littered with crappy CGI to illustrate their morbid sensibilities. Is a gamma ray really going to start shooting out of the Milky Way, vaporizing the East Coast? According to NAT GEO it is, so hold onto your fucking hats!

Just look at this list of uplifting titles:

The Whale That Exploded (I wish I made this one up)
How to Kill a Planet
Exploding Las Vegas
Dino Death Trap
Seconds from Disaster: Crash of the Comet
Osmosis Jones
Who Really Killed Jesus?
Hitler and the Occult
Deadliest Planets

I am not going to stop watching, but could we up the happy a bit? I need more shows about the importance of prehensile thumbs or a 9-foot-tall Lithuanian who prefers to shun the spotlight of the circus. NAT GEO, I love you, please stop talking about the end of days. We know the world is crumbling around us, just find a way to make it more exciting.

Suggestions for new NAT GEO shows:

How to Avoid Hipsters: The Definition of a Meaningless Subculture
The Plus Side of Pirates and Pirating
Monkeys, Dinosaurs, Meerkats and other Totally Awesome Things
Pandas: Falling and Staying In Love
Search for The Elusive Narwhal
Chimps Who Don't Attack Humans

More Enlightenment:

ENCORE MOVIE CHANNELS

I don’t have any fancy movie channels at my tree house, but I do have about 17 Encore channels. There is such a wide range of films from all genres. I am so hooked I have just about abandoned my DVD collection. Here are some films I have discovered while enjoying the ENCORE catalogue:

Ladyhawke (1985):

Rutger Hauer and Michelle Pfeiffer are medieval lovers who have been cursed by an evil priest. Rutger turns into a Wolf at night and Michelle turns into a Hawk by day. This curse must be lifted so they call on a petty thief, Matthew Broderick, who goes by the name: Mouse.
The score is amazing as well as some beautiful scenery. The only problem is the ridiculous amount of crying Broderick does throughout the movie. It’s simply odd and distracting.

Little Murders (1971):

A girl brings home her latest boyfriend, Elliot Gould, to meet her parents. This is done against the background of random shootings that had just begun in NYC.
Elliot Gould plays a pretentious artist so full of himself and oblivious to others that you have to imagine his character birthed Eli Cash of The Royal Tennenbaums. It was also directed by the amazing, Alan Arkin.

Rumble Fish (1983):
Wow…this movie is absolutely stunning. It can be watched without sound it looks so gorgeous. I don’t know how this was received by critics when released, but I am guessing they considered it an ‘experimental’ film by Coppola. Matt Dillon does lonliness so well, but Mickey Rourke crushes it from the moment he rolls up on his motorcycle. PLEASE check this one out.

Don't go see Christian Bale scream and yell at Terminators all summer long...just watch ENCORE.

Rourke In Rumble Fish

Gould in Little Murders

Rutger In Ladyhawke

I am the bow, and I am the arrow

2009-04-12T14:45:00.016-04:00

Remember those toys from above? They are the gnarliest, noisiest, stinkiest punk rock party favor for any male under the age of 13. They reportedly forced a Florida couple to throw their child through a bay window. They brought nothing to the table but flinching grandmothers and disapproving adults, but they sucked you in. They sparked a bit and smelled like fireworks, which made them even cooler, because we know that fireworks lead to nothing but glass eyes.

You could smash them together for about 15 minutes before the blast ended. They would eventually turn chalky and stop working.

On March 24th two albums were released into the world like Blast Balls, but they will blast forever. No dusty leftovers.

DOOM (he dropped the MF) and Swan Lake released albums on this Tuesday from heaven and both crash through like hail storms just before the spring.

The albums are two wildly different genres. DOOM samples Charles Bukowski and spits about the possibility of Batman and Robin being gay while poking fun at flashy shirtless rappers. Swan Lake is comprised of three wailing beasts, which stand apart but still seem to be in awe of one another. They may dissimilar musically, but both show their strengths through wily lyrics.

DOOM’s lyrics come across like the answers to the New York Times Sunday Crossword Puzzle. His raps are images in a Viewmaster, somewhat disconnected, but they all shine in their own right. He has caught some flack for using older beats and releasing songs that have been traveling the web for over a year, but it never feels stale. DOOM smashes every song, well two don’t even feature the masked man rapping, leaving you laughing and wondering why more artists don’t have minds like his.

Swan Lake also travels between your eyes with imagery so vast and haunting that it will sit with you long after the songs stop playing. Swan Lake is considered an ‘indie supergroup’, but lets just consider them super. All three songwriters bring loaded guns in their respective songs amongst masterfully arranged background noise. Never has the tragedy of getting old sounded so beautiful without feeling sorry.

So I would like to thank Music and the start of spring for bringing ‘blast balls’ onto my Ipod and making the change of the seasons feel like actual change.

Thanks for Ben Bowens for the Photoshop work.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I mentioned Viewmaster above and I am SHOCKED that I haven't seen a v-necked hipster toting one around. These pieces of plastic gold are perfect for hipsters. They are retro and cheapy looking, perfect for a dissaffected culture that stands for nothing. Kids with $50 American Apparrel Hoddies should have these things hanging from thier necks with pictures from the Sword and the Stone for all their friends to see.

"Hey check this out! Too bad I can't fit the 'picture discs' inside my jeans, but this is sooooo transgressive. Pass me a shitty beer that I am not drinking for the taste!."

-Hipster with Viewmaster

You Are A Waterfall Waiting Inside A Well

2009-03-22T22:22:00.008-04:00

Some believe we put too much stake in films.

Hollywood endings are Hollywood because they are far removed from reality. We rarely find true love in the end. Longing lovers rarely stop each other before boarding a plane to embrace before the credits of life roll. One man won't save the universe, and animals will never talk like us. Life is longer than two hours and isn't considered a form of escapism.

Fuck that.

Movies should move you like music or any other medium. Yes, life rarely imitates film, but isn't that our fault? Do we expect to much out of people? Are we always setting ourselves up for dissapointment?

No...you aren't a fool if you think your life will play out like a teen comedy as a high school senior. You aren't a madman if you think you will save everyone from a burning bus. Maybe these moments in film are future blueprints stored away in our brains for later use. False hopes may be realized through film and real dreams can be seen even after the screen goes black.

Put stake into everything...

Here are some some great movie moments for all the haters:

Adaptation

"You are what you love, not what loves you." If that doesn't ring through your head, you might need to get dumped. Just ask someone to kick you in the midsection if this makes no sense to you. It's one of the coldest lines EVER. (Cold meaning cool)

Stand By Me

River Phoenix crushes this scene. Do we ever stop to think about how those 'bad kids' feel when they are the first ones questioned? Sometimes we take for granted how deep the minds of children are. We all weren't that jaded then were we?

Unbreakable

First off the score of this scene gives me the chills everytime I hear it. I wish it started playing as soon as I get in my car everyday for work.

This is Shymalan's best film and it was WAY ahead of it's time regarding the post 9/11 superhero genre of today.

"I should have known way back when..you know why David? BECAUSE OF THE KIDS! They called me Mr. Glass."

Rushmore

You knew I was going to give Rushmore a shout...come on...it's a modern American Classic. Murray doesn't even need to speak at the pool scence, his Budweiser swimming trunks say it all. Who doesn't like to see relationships rise, fall and put back together anyway. Life does work that way sometimes...

"You're the king of the dumbest fucking kingom!" The Foot Fist Way is already a cult classic. It's one of the darkest comedies/character you will ever see, and will require multiple viewings. Danny McBride is also gearing up to rule the movie world at the moment too. I wish him the best of luck.

American Beauty

There are alot of pricks out there who call this movie shit now. In this internet age of fickledom, we grow tired quickly. People might call this ending contrived, unrealistic, or hopeless. Don't you want to relive great moments before the credits on your life roll? And if these things don't happen, at least you saw it happen to someone else.

I would let you in here if I could, but I really don't know how...still trying to figure it out

2009-02-28T22:18:00.011-05:00

A social phenomenon needs to be studied. It affects all of us. The awkward and confident jerks suffer from the same symptoms. I am speaking of the ‘Awkward Bar Walk Away’, which shall be referred to as AWBA from now on. The AWBA happens just about every night we go out to a crowded bar filled with clinking Miller Lite bottles and drunk folks pissing off their significant others. The flat-screens glow and we walk around in circles saying hello to friends and people whose names have slipped our minds. Fists are pumped. Cheeks are kissed and shots are downed. But we all suffer…we all do.

Example:
You see someone from high school and say hello, do the usual “How ya been, what the fuck are you doing these days? Can you believe this recession?” small talk bullshit. The conversation usually hits a peak within minutes. The glass ceiling is made of plexi-glass and you can’t bust through anymore. There are no more questions. No more answers. Just the worst stale silence you could ever imagine. You both might even look away several times hoping to see some tragic event, which would entail you to run away from the conversation. You hope a friend slips and falls or perhaps you desire for someone to yell FIRE, but there is no escape. The bathroom…you ask. Sure it’s a good excuse, but it’s been done before, and how many times can you use that in one night and if the bathroom is far and has a line winding through the bar…is it really worth the effort? Bottom line, you can’t tell everyone you don’t want to talk to that you have to pee again.

How do we cure this? This AWBA that plagues us all? Some people just rudely say fuck it, and turn the other way without a goodbye. Some tough it out, and sweat through a 20 minute conversation of the same question being asked in 20 different ways. Some of us just avoid all contact, and park our asses at the bar and look nowhere but down at your drinks.

The worst port of the AWBA is the moment before you both part ways. You might even offer and handshake before saying goodbye, but it’s never smooth.

Example:

“All right……um……it was good seeing you (head scratch as you stare at your feet). Good luck with work. (look away). Good seeing you….um….OK.”

I suggest an unspoken head nod/wave. We should all be aware of the AWBA and how to avoid it. Just look at the person…no physical contact and nod or wave from afar. Stay tight with your group of friends and don’t waver. Let the people you don’t want to see come to you, but make sure you have your people around. Stand near your crew the whole night. It’s an easy escape, and a reason to simply, turn your back, and walk the fuck away.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

The title of this awful blog is of course a song lyric, and it is from the latest release from IRAN. A band composed of Aaron Aites, who according to most pretentious music websites, should be a familiar name in all indie rock households. Kyp Malone, of TV on the Radio, is also part of this outfit and the main reason I checked them out the first place. It was produced by Dave Sitek, who is on his way on becoming the next Brian Eno and its just beastly. I could call it atmospheric, cinematic, Beach Boys on lo-fi, hissy art-rock, but I would just sound like a dick. It's the album's ability make you think you are hearing something completely different without wandering to far away. While some songs start off like a breezy surf melody, it might change sonically, but the feeling of the songs is never lost. It could be the lyrics and sometimes howling by Malone and Aites, but I never felt alone. The lyrics aren't filled with imagery of slithering snakes and dancing lemurs. They are direct and poppy, kind of like the FIRST Weezer album. (Kind OF) When Aites screams about losing his confidence in one of the songs, I didn't want to tell him to shut the fuck up. I just wanted to tell him everything was going to be cool.

The lyrics are self-aware, without dimming their creativity. IRAN doesn't need to trick you with their approach. They simply come clean, well as some might say...a bit 'hissy.'

I have decided to leave you with a video and some pictures:

Amazing band, with lyrics that aren't so easily interpreted.

Pics by my man TDHef...he got a sick new camera:

All my pictures are confused

2008-12-30T22:30:00.003-05:00

2008…get out of here. Just leave. I and everyone else are incredibly sick of you. You gave us Obama and the Phillies, but you destroyed the economy and played a game of gas prices. You offered a great summer movie season full of watchable blockbusters, but Beverly Hills Chihuahua was still a hit. Goodbye 2008…you son of a bitch.

It's time for some lists kids…here we go:

Top Movies (Short and sweet) :

Pineapple Express: James Franco was awesome, and deserves a supporting actor nod…I'm serious. Didn't make fun of 90's action trash cinema, it paid homage to it, and that's all I can ask for.

The Fall: It was made a while ago, but released here in '08. It's a dark Princess Bride fueled by lies and depression. It looks great too.

Iron Man: Post 9/11 America will continue to embrace superhero movies, and this one did it right. I honestly think Downey Jr.’s Iron Man will be as popular as Ford's Indiana Jones (Pre Crystal Skull).

Music (Short as well…):

Wolf Parade, Apologies to Queen Mary: 2 lead singers, one of them (Spencer Krug...in my opinion) is as important as the two Davids (Bowie and Byrne)…the other kind of sounds like Beck but is pretty good too. Check out the epic masterpiece 'Kissing the Beehive.’

David Byrne and Brian Eno, Everything That Happens Will Happen Today : Takes all the themes of the Talking Heads epic song 'Don't Worry About the Government' and plays them out in an I've grown up, but not given up, sort of way.

Cadence Weapon, Afterparty Babies: the kid from Canada continues to be one of rap's best writers and did the ever so popular 'dance album' thing without losing his fire.

TV On The Radio, Dear Science: One of my favorite bands of all time has yet to disappoint, even when their sound becomes more 'accessible.' I have always found a sense of hopefulness in their music, but it's 2008...remember we need this shit.

Crystal Castles, Crystal Castles: They put your Sega Genesis in a blender, threw in some hip hop and created a sound that grows on you and surprisingly put on a wild live show.

Santogold, Santogold : She is a Philly girl and is the future of music in America…if we are lucky. She also made the perfect summer album.

Peter Automatic: Local dude who remembers that hip hop is supposed to be fun with wonderfully catchy lo-fi beats.

Everything Overrated 2008:

Girl Talk: Really…I know it gets hipsters to dance and possibly smile, but is he that much of a beast.? You will be able to do this on your Mac in a couple of years.

Burn After Reading: People love the Coen Brothers, and they should, but this was fucking awful. It had great characters but nowhere to place them and Brad Pitt's shooting death was just a trick to make you think it was progressive or 'unlike most movies.' Go rent the Coen's Blood Simple and enjoy.

Recession small talk: I know we are going through a financial crisis, but stop using it as an excuse for everything. You can’t forget a birthday or an anniversary because of the ‘recession.’ It’s almost as bad as global warming small talk.

Other bloggers Tops of 2008 Lists! Thanks

From Random Acts Of Ben:

Top 5 movies released in '08 you did not see but definitely should have seen.

5. W. (dir Oliver Stone)
4. Mongol (dir Sergei Bodrov)
3. Standard Operating Procedure (dir Eroll Morris)
2. Miracle of St. Anna (dir Spike Lee)
1. The Fall (dir Tarsem Singh)

From The Adventures of Elle-anor Rigby

5 Things on the Internet that Made my Head Spin in 2008:

1-twitter: First of all, what the fuck is that? Second of all, JO told me last week that because of all these fucking social networking sites, she only thinks in 200 characters or less. I have been using twitter for 4 months. I still have no idea what's going on. I just figured out how to make @replies. Mind blown.

2- flickr introduces video: I love flickr for its clean, modern feel and the relatively small numbers of pedophiles and sex fiends that try to contact me on the site.I despise youtube because of its kitschy appeal and the number of people that can't spell or write a sentence. Now flickr, where I share my photos and e-stalk my friends is letting you upload video. What's going to change now? Is flickr going to turn into the media messiah that beats out the legacy of webshots albums that your friends made when only one of your had a digital camera?

3- There are good looking men on match.com: I was pretty sure those obnoxious ads on myspace with good looking people flirting via web cam was a hoax. I thought match.com was only for men missing fingers and men that like to have sex with children. Never did I think there would be multiple good looking men who exist in the real world, who read on the subway, and who wipe their own ass. Wow.

4- seamlessweb: Never has it been easier to find every single pizza joint in Manhattan. It's like all those delivery guys shoving menus under my door are trying to see how many trees they can kill, and to continue with the most useless marketing scheme ever.

5- myopenbar.com: In college, I wished on a regular basis that every day there could be open bar. The kind folks at myopenbar.com have granted my wishes. Even if it means well vodka and some old men ostensibly wearing dirty underwear. If you follow myopenbar on twitter, you can get updated every 42 seconds about where the well drinks are at.

Thanks to everyone for checking this crap show out. This video has a message of hope for 2009 and its fucking strange in a good way:

Rode off, the prospect of gold in my wake

2008-12-12T20:37:00.006-05:00

John Hughes’ older movies consisted of kids from the suburbs with idiot parents who had no idea what their kids did on the weekends. A rich hot dude would a throw party and simply a shrug when he noticed the ‘Nerd’ had taken off his in father’s Bentley with his girlfriend. A group of diverse kids serving Saturday detention would have a therapy session and dance around the library. Three high school friends, one of them happens to the most popular guy in Chicago, ditch school and get a taste of city life sitting in the bucket seats of a sports car. But did they get a real taste?

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off is considered a classic. Matthew Broderick talks to the camera and schemes his way through the greatest day of his life. The whole time he is followed by a beautiful girl and a miserable friend in a hockey jersey. His life is amazing. He is a beast with a leopard print jacket. He isn’t that street smart though.

There is a pivotal scene in the move when Ferris hops on a parade float and takes over a parade full of white people until one moment. One moment when the kids from the ‘burbs get their first taste of urban culture.

Wait or skip ahead to about :39

Ferris and friends most likely haven’t spent much time in any major American city. Maybe they haven’t even left their sparkling white neighborhoods, which is why Ferris’ escape is supposed to be so revealing. But they now see that black people rise up out of the concrete when danceable music is played. Apparently black people dance in unison and don’t stop smiling either. A black man actually vaults through the air above the crowd with precision at about 1:17. This is what it looks like outside of their neighborhoods.

I think you get the point here. This is just as offensive as a McDonald’s Dollar Menu commercial. Someone really needs to Save Ferris.

Godspeed to you, Keep The Lighthouse In Sight

2008-11-23T22:24:00.003-05:00

The holidays are upon us and we're all prepared to be disappointed, drunk and tired, but how can you not love it? No matter what you celebrate it always seems like a quick drastic change. It flies by in blurs of sparkling lights and turkey legs, but we drudge on with clenched fists and partial smiles. Maybe that is what family is all about…but the holidays bring something larger. Something to make you cry, laugh, cringe and spend money. The holiday movie season is here kids, and so are the good ol’ Oscar contenders. Mickey Rourke is starring in Darren Aronofsky’s ‘The Wrestler’ and the trailer is a good one:

I was never a wrestling fan, although I did like G.L.O.W., but this movie looks wildly promising. Bruce Springsteen wrote a song creatively titled, ‘The Wrestler’ for the movie and it plays in the heart-wrenching trailer. Once again not a fan of Springsteen, but the song works perfectly here. Trailers are sometimes better than the movie itself…they are music videos with big stars (I wrote about this before a while ago). Here is to hoping this movie is better than Harley Davidson and the Marlboro Man.

The only thing that has me confused is the uplifting tone that appears in the trailer. Aronofsky did the anti-drug masterpiece ‘Requiem For A Dream’ which makes you afraid to even take Flintstone vitamins. It ends with a double dildo and an amputated arm, leading me to believe Mickey Rourke will be beheaded in the ring by the end of this movie. His head will land the arms of his estranged daughter as Marisa Tomei shoots heroin between her toes in the bathroom. Cue the Springsteen! I mean how else could it end?

Top 5 Holiday Movies:

Elf: Is this considered a new classic yet? Somebody call AMC and have them put it on their list right next to ‘The Rock.” The elevator scene gets me every time.

Gremlins: Joe Dante is a wildly underrated director, and this movie is fucking hilarious. It was kind of scary and funny when I was a kid, now it’s hilarious and a good reminder of how shitty CGI can be.

Scrooged: Bill Murray reigns supreme per usual and a good reminder as to how cute Karen Allen is.

Last Boy Scout: Has nothing to do with the holidays, but Willis plays a version of John McLane with more marital problems and vices, and Die Hard is considered a Christmas movie…So I am slipping this one in here. It’s also fucking awesome.

Empire Of The Sun: A good movie to make kids appreciate their parents around the holidays.

No you can’t, can’t settle down, until the Icarus in your blood, in your blood drowns

2008-11-05T17:35:00.003-05:00

I live in a neighborhood with mixed cultures and row homes. Small trees are placed sparingly throughout the street giving an organic feel to a land of cracked concrete and empty Newport cigarette boxes. When you are having dreaded small talk with someone and when you tell them you live in this area they usually say, “HEY! That place is up and coming. Gentrification is my favorite word! Lots of young families are moving in. Etc. Etc.” It’s one of those neighborhoods. They are in all cities and they all generate the same small talk. Some might say it was cute even, and I enjoy it as much as the teenagers roaming the streets at night. I park my car in a pseudo u-shaped parking lot covered by a huge oak tree dropping plenty of shit on the cars below. Windshields are left speckled with yellow splats and heaves of bird poop resembling a disaffected art student’s attempt at something abstract. My car is white, but so dirty, and could pass for an original Ford Model. Its looks a bit ragged and people look up to the sky when I drive by them because the engine sounds like a low flying airplane. It’s just easy to see.

It must stick out in my pseudo parking lot because all the teens on my street congregate on the hood of my car. My front porch is one the side of the lot giving me the perfect view. They must be thinking this piece of shit can’t get any worse. I don’t want to be that guy either. I don’t want to puff my chest out and yell at the kids. I just can’t do it. Am I a little scared of them? Maybe. I know they are pretty young because one of the girls asked me for a smoke one night, and like an idiot I handed her a Parliament. Her friend snapped at me immediately. ‘She‘s only 15 you know! “, she said with a valley girl tone. I am guessing they range from 14-16, but I don’t know kids that young who chain smoke blunts. Call me a puritan. They have ridiculously loud ring tones and seem to like spitting. If I was 15 and walked pasted these kids in the lot I wouldn’t make eye contact with any of them. They are just bad-asses. Bas-asses who make out on the dirt stained hood of my car every fucking night.

They get down. Just full on makeout sessions, which are for some reason the most awkward things to watch. When I was a 15-year-old boy my hormones would have led me to make out on the hood of a car as well, so I can’t blame them, but they look like they are fighting. These kids look like baby birds being fed worm vomit from their mama birds. It’s a vile event and forces me to look away like the 15-year-old version of me would. I still say nothing. What teenage boy wants something like that to end?

One night there were around 50 kids congregating around my car and on the hood. I was brought out to the porch from the noise of ring tones and the F-word. They started yelling at each other and the girls scattered. I have no idea exactly happened but I know was a battle of the sexes. I put my smoke in the ash can went back in the house.

The next morning I get ready for work, grab the keys and walk out to the pseudo lot. The car looks like it always does. Splattered with green watercolors and blasted by bird shit. The sun hits my hood and sends a beacon of lighting piercing through my skull. There is a message written on the hood of my car. It reads: FUCK YOU RAKEIA. It was done with a blue ball-point pen, so it doesn’t jump out, but it won’t come off. I have tried everything. Green Turtle buffer, soap, elbow grease, and something by Armor-All. None of them work.

I too would like to say, FUCK YOU RAKEIA. You must have pissed one of those horny teens off. I could have ended it all. All I had to do was open my mouth and tell them to get the hell away. Now these kids have something to laugh at when they hang out in the lot and when I park in the city people will think I dicked some dude over. By keeping my mouth shut I dealt with a sort of a reverse punishment. If I did say something, who knows if they would have stopped. They might have written something like: FUCK YOU NERD, FUCK YOU GET A HAIRCUT, FUCK YOU PENIS HEAD, Etc.

But they will never write: FUCK YOUR FOR BEING THAT DUDE Or FUCK YOU FOR THE BLUE BALLS, and I can live with that.

Check out my boy Ben's blog: http://randombenonethree.blogspot.com/

P.S. All of my titles are song lyrics from bands I enjoy...I am not that clever.

The words you spoke, I know to much, It's over now

2008-10-05T20:53:00.005-04:00

Weekend Notes:

Philly was buzzing this weekend with Springsteen playing on the Parkway for Obama, a diabetes awareness walk, a motorcycle ride to fight breast cancer, and the Eagles and Phillies having games at the same time. Everyone was fighting for something this weekend and Philly is the perfect place to release some anger. Anger is pumped out into the atmosphere from the mouth of the William Penn statue. Most people don’t know that, but that’s the main reason everyone in this city is a fatalist. You don’t need to be a hippie to believe in karma.

I went to the Eagles game, which was wildly disappointing, but there was one redeeming factor. He was sitting a couple rows in front of me and he had a personalized jersey. It read ‘JO JO’ and it was number 20.

Personalized jerseys are horrendous. Nobody gives a shit if you put your name or something mildly amusing on the back. His and her personalized jerseys shouldn’t even be allowed in the stadium. They should have a bin where the tickets are taken for those wearing personalized jerseys. If you wear one you need to leave it in the ‘asshole’ bin and pick it up when the game is over.

I am guessing JO JO is the son of ‘Big Joe.’ Big Joe was probably watching the game at home because he is disgusted with ticket and beer prices. Big Joe most likely gave JO JO shit for paying so much for a ticket and is still jealous of Vince Papale. Big Joe is from Northeast Philadelphia and JO JO lives down the street or just a few blocks away. Who knew a personalized jersey could tell you so much, but it does. It’s like wearing a social networking jersey. Get a new jersey JO JO.

Is it me or is this picture from philly.com the gayest picture that ever gayed? I have nothing against the gay community, but LOOK AT THAT! Three men just open mouthed and dousing each other with champagne. There has to be some crude name for this act like such popular terms as: Lemon Party, Blumpkin, Jelly Doughnut, or the ever so popular Boston Guggenheim. We need a new term for this picture. I got nothing.

Beverly Hills Chihuahua was the number 1 movie at the box office this weekend. I was waiting for cries of racism from the Latino community before this movie came out, but $29 million was made in three days from an extended Taco Bell commercial.

This is a summary of the movie from IMDB.com:

Chloe (voiced by Drew Barrymore) is a diamond-clad, bootie wearing Beverly Hills Chihuahua who thoroughly enjoys her luxurious lifestyle. But when the much-pampered Chloe gets lost in Mexico with only a street-wise German Shepherd (voiced by Andy Garcia) to help her find her way home, it's up to her longtime admirer Papi (voiced by George Lopez) to join forces with a motley crew and head south of the border and rescue his true love.

That’s not fake. ‘Street-wise’ German Shepherds are fucking fearless, don’t ever cross one.

Halloween costume suggestions coming soon...

And where’d you learn to stage dive with such grace?

2008-09-07T23:30:00.003-04:00

Ohh summer! Here you are with your wavy heat and high crime rates. Here you are making a two block walk a sweaty experience. Here you are burning bright above signaling vacation time. Ohh summer…you are fucking awful, but you are gone now. Tucking your heat and sweat beads away until next year. Leaving t-shirts matted to the bottom of drawers. We can now start dusting off the courdorouys and hooded zip-up sweatshirts. Iced coffee melts into hot coffee and we can all sit around and small talk each other to death for a month: “I can’t believe the summer is over!? It went so fast where did it go? It didn’t even feel like summer! I miss the summer!” You will most likely be saying or hearing these words for the next 2 months. The end of this summer was different. Someone said something to me that struck me like the summer sun, and it had nothing to do with the seasons.

‘People don’t have dreams anymore. I can’t imagine someone feeling like they were too old to have dreams. How could you not have dreams anymore,” said Theodor.

He wasn’t talking about dreaming while our eyes are shut. He wasn’t talking about getting on the school bus naked type dream or the dream where you have to run away but are moving at the speed of molasses. Those dreams, like the 4 seasons, will happen throughout our existence.

He was talking about your dream. Maybe you do something as simple as hitting the game winning shot in Game 7. Maybe you fall in love and marry that beautiful person you saw in a fleeting glance on the train one day. You might win an Oscar, possibly a Pulitzer. You might save a child right before they are struck by a car, sacrificing your body for theirs. You could be a war hero, fighter pilot, famous actor, musician, CEO, circus performer, painter, puppeteer, doctor or even just a loving parent. You all had some dreams at some point.

We may have moved on from those daydreaming days in grade school, and we now sit in offices waiting for happy hour or to head home to our loved ones. Summer isn’t as important as it used to be because there are no more summer breaks. We aren’t scooping ice cream or carrying golf bags for some extra change in our pockets. We deal with mortgages and health insurance. Relationships fade and become more painful when finally broken. We are all a little bit jaded and our skin is thicker and a bit prickly these days. Some moments in life might be rougher than others, more than we all thought we could handle, but they too will come and go like the 4 seasons.

That dream you hold, no matter how silly, will always be around. It should never falter or fade. It should never be left in your old shoebox full of G.I. Joe’s or your Barbie Malibu dream house. It should stay as silly as it was then. You might suck at basketball, but you still hit the game winner. You have zero dexterity but you are fixing a newborn’s heart. You are scared to jump in front of that car to save the kid, but you will do it. You will push that child out of the way, send them fleeing to the sidewalk with just a few scratches. You take the hit in front of a crowd of onlookers who gasp in horror and are filled with honor at the same time. They have just witnessed an envious selfless act of bravery. You will roll around for a bit in shock, but you will get up. You will dust off and refuse to talk to the media.

That’s what fucking dreams are. You know how it happens, nobody else. Not some bullshit recurring dream about the summer, fall, winter or spring. You need your dreams, no matter how unattainable. Don’t let go of that dream that starred while you were awake one day in the 4th grade.

Jump in front of that car because in your mind you do it flawlessly.

'Oh, don't carve me out! Don't let your silly dreams,
fall in between the crack of the bed and the wall.' -Jim James

If there are 2 eyes in my head, there are 4 seasons in a year

2008-07-06T22:51:00.005-04:00

Movies about a dystopian future always inspired me. Running through a world reduced to crunchy gravel covered with tattered buildings and simple machines seems like the perfect place to be the next people’s champion. Food and water would be scarce, but you would never have feel like you didn’t live in peace. No cell phones, door to door salesman, spam, Asimos, or local TV news. You wouldn’t have an alarm clock ruining your life every morning, and people would never take your parking space. You would just wake up whenever you felt like it. You just roll out of your cave, or if you are lucky, a dilapidated building, and wait for the day to bring you something.

The post-apocalyptic world is yours.

There wouldn’t be many people around so everyone with in a 20-mile radius will most likely know you. You wouldn’t be self conscious about not having many friends because everyone would be in the same boat. Hunting for all of your food might sound awful, but the agility needed to do so will leave you lean and ripped, which is a god thing considering you will be wearing scraps of clothing. Shoulder pads topped with spikes and feathers will only look good if you have nice biceps.

All of the cars would be totally gnarly with their cages for bodies and huge wheels perfect for patrolling around a desolate earth. There would be no cops around to stop you for driving to fast or blowing stop signs. You might have to evade gangs of cannibals though. Just you, the road and contaminated air flowing through your unkept hair.

In all of those movies about post-apocalyptic earth (Mad Max trilogy, Escape From New York, Tank Girl, Ghost Dad, some parts in The Terminator) the hero always has a legion of people on his side. There is no government holding them back, just a calvacade of dirty faces waiting for them to unlock a new water supply being held captive by a band of rogues traveling on motorcycles and dune buggies. The people the heroes in these movies save aren’t asking for much.

So when you want to bitch about gas and the suffering economy don’t imagine a world where everything is free. Imagine a world in ruins. When some stoner is talking about the Terminator and exclaims, “That SHIT is GONNA HAPPPPPEN MANNNN!” Don’t wince or sniff at their comment, embrace it. Welcome it. Just imagine folks: No distractions, lack of parking, awkward silence, retro sneakers, hipsters, Soulja Boy, fake wrestling, real wrestling, or online gaming. And when you are caught in a convo when someone is bitching and catches themselves and sheepishly mutters, “It could be worse.” Just reply, “I hope it gets worse.”

Can you live with the way they make you look unreal?

2008-05-10T22:12:00.003-04:00

RECREATIONAL PARANOIA

The morning light arrives and you are in a rush before your eyelids move north and south collectively. You smash the alarm after the 17th snooze and ponder. Fuck work…fuck mornings…fuck this alarm…fuck. You bounce off your mattress when you realize you have 10 minutes to shower and get to work. The shower is quick and your tardiness shows in your frazzled work attire. You grab your jangling and you are out the house like a screeching bottle rocket ready to take the train/bus/car.

You arrive at your fluorescent workplace and offer your hellos to fellow co-workers and pseudo-friends. The revolving padded chair bounces when you descend and something is missing. Something isn’t there. It isn’t one of those popular naked at work dreams, but something is feeling naked. You pad your pocket/check your purse
and the spaces are filled with air. There is almost an echo. You forgot it. It’s sitting at home, plugged into one of your four walls. Your forgot your cellphone.
You then begin to tell everyone in the office about your near fatal mistake. “I left my cell phone at home today!” you shout. “We hate when that happens! You feel so naked,” exclaim your co-workers and pseudo-friends.

Your self hate slowly recedes and turns into a refreshing breeze. You don’t need that silly glowing piece of plastic!! You don’t need to have that leash sitting in your hand waiting to give you a brain tumor! You don’t need such modern machines! You begin to feel like a child of the earth. You are feeling so organic you decide to buy lunch at Whole Foods and asked the pierced check out boy if the lunch you bought was tested on animals. Walking back to work you pick up every piece of trash and you see and walk back into the office feeling soooo new age.

You turn to your jaded co-worker and say, “It’s amazing how much those things take a hold of your life man. I was freaking out this morning about a CELL PHONE. Can you believe that? I am glad I don’t have it honestly.” You co-worker noddingly approves before slyly sending a text message under their desk to a significant other.

You leave work in better shape than expected and make your way home with a new sense of freedom. You love the nakedness.

Home is here and you leave the jangling keys on the coffee table and make your way towards one of your four walls. There it is. There is that adorable little gadget that allows you to never feel alone and send drunk text messages to old flames who are long extinguished. This wonderful technological advancement looks happy to see you and the light flicks on that tiny screen letting you know the batteries are charged and calls are ready to be made. But wait…there is a nakedness again. The echo is back. The organic lunch sits like a quarter pounder with cheese, cheese whiz actually.

NO MISSED CALLS! NO MISSED TEXT MESSAGES? 8 hours and change with nothing. Nobody wanted to see how the weekend was? Nobody wanted to send you a purposely misspelled text message? This is even worse than you thought it was going to be. Absence is supposed to make the heart grow fonder. This homecoming was supposed to be full of love and open arms.

Now you are left alone, staring at one of your four walls with NO missed calls.

Forget about our mothers and our friends. We are fated to pretend

2008-03-24T17:24:00.005-04:00

I have written about songs before on this terrible internet story forum, and another song by a female singer has struck me. The original was Heart’s Magic Man. It just made sense one night. This new revelatory song has been on my Itunes and Ipod and Imind for quite some time and even sampled in a popular rap song that I bumped in high school. (White kids in high school love rap…it makes them feel dangerous)

Lisa Stansfield’s 'All Around The World’ was released in 1989, and according to Wikipedia reached #3 on the Billboard charts. She is your typical white British female singer trying to recreate the sound of black American R&B singers. (See: Amy Winehouse) She has covered songs by Barry White and even recorded a version of All Around the World with the late velvet voiced legend.

This song was shaking out of my tattered car speakers and my passenger started to dance like he was escaping a hornet’s nest. It wasn’t the scotch in his soul it was the SOUL in his soul. Why is this song so jarring? Why do you need to play it at a high volume? Why does Lisa feel so bad? Because Lisa fucked up.

Most love sick songs are about a man making a big mistake. We cheated. We were afraid of commitment. We were even told to ‘Call Tyrone’ because our friends mooched of our girlfriend’s amenities. Ruben Studdard had to apologize for a whole year even. He was sorry for ALL of 2004, not just one stupid comment or mistake, he fucked up for 365 days!

Then Lisa chimes in with the baritone. She sounds like the guy who just talks in Boys II Men. She begins the landmark tune with these words, but she isn’t singing them.

Spoken:
I don't know where my baby is
but I'll find him, somewhere, somehow
I've got to let him know how much I care
I'll never give up looking for my baby

You can just feel the ‘oh shit’ in her smooth voice. She is sitting alone at home, manless and smoking cigarettes at furious pace. She really fucked up this time.

We had a quarrel and I let myself go
I said so many things, things he didn't know
And I was oh oh so bad
And I don't think he's comin' back, mm mm

He gave the reason, the reasons he should go
And he said things he hadn't said before
And he was oh oh so mad
And I don't think he's comin' back, comin' back

I did too much lyin', wasted too much time,
Now I'm here a'cryin', I, I, I

She can’t even muster the words at that last line. All she can say is, “I..I..I…I.” The ‘I’ is Lisa and her mistake. She plays it over again and again in her heard and can’t shake the man. Who I am guessing was a great guy if she is willing to go all Amelia Earhart trying to find him.

I've been around the world, lookin' for my baby
Been around the world, and I'm gonna
I'm gonna find him

So open hearted, he never did me wrong
I was the one, the weakest one of all
And now I'm oh oh so sad
And I don't think he's comin' back, comin' back

The vulnerability she displays through song and lyrics is the most appealing aspect of this late 80’s tune. Lisa did her man so wrong that she knows deep down in her soul he isn’t going to return. Not even for a late night booty call/text. Not even a random email or instant message. He is simply a phantom now. Whatever she said in that quarrel must have been crushing. So crushing that she knew as soon as the words left her mouth at the speed of sound he was going out the door and never coming back as the speed of light.

There is no way that dude is coming back…and you know and I know LISA is going to have to look for another beau.

we didn't speak just exhaled frozen worlds

2008-02-19T22:13:00.002-05:00

One of the hardest things to conceive as time continues to tick along is chinks in the armor.
When you are in 1st grade the 8th graders tower above and seem to have it all together. They engage is relationships that a child can only compare to marriage. We look up to them as elders who have endured all life has to offer. They look so old, ready for gray hair and bifocals.
As nervous high school freshman seniors walk on stilts, drink beer on the weekend and have most likely lost their virginity. They no longer look as old as the 8th graders but they seem to have traveled the road, ending their journey with college acceptance.
Freshman in college have nothing to worry about. They have a forum to reinvent themselves. They become idealistic and experiment in ways that would leave parents sobered with disappointment. When you are handed the diploma you peer at your elders: mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, uncles and old friends waving in the breeze. They have finished that part of the journey and are excited but have been here before. They know the drill and ease back in their folding chairs, gripping the program filled with names and supposed destinations. You sit back down, hungover and staring at your newly acquired paunch.
I might be naïve. I might have lived a sheltered life. I might have no idea what the hell I am talking about. I am most likely considered immature.
I do feel that nobody wants to witness weakness entering the pores of someone you admire. They reveal a weak spot in a frozen moment. A moment only the admirer can understand. A sweet spot where the shooter is trained to aim.
It’s not weakness amongst your peers. Many of them will get devoured by the night, you next to them with clenched fists. Peers grow old with you and find new things to compete for in golf handicaps and the homeliness of their new homes. You might not fight the fight with them but you will always watch from the sidelines.
It’s those who towered above. Those who walked on stilts in hallways with echoes of clanging locker doors. Those who waved with the wind sneaking through the tiny slits between their moist fingers. Those hands that waved grow crooked with a sense of urgency. They might have disappointed you. Said the wrong things or didn’t say anything at all. This aspect of age we should fear most.
As I grow older and inevitably closer to my elders, I don’t want the gap to close. I want the spaces to be huge and filled with calm winds.
I am not consumed by sadness. I am just consumed with the human experience.

***

Enough serious talk. Once again my dear friend Ted offers me a piece of music that chills me to the bone. Check out Grand Ole Party.

Don't compare the sound or voices. Just listen to the lyrics and fall over when the music stops.

I am as excited to see this as I was when my brother revealed to me the news of a live action Ninja Turtles movies through excited shiny braces.

The next Last Boy Scout? God I am hoping so.

You never heard it from me but there’s a breach in the hull of the truth

2008-01-03T14:13:00.000-05:00

I was about to embark on the treacherous Kelly Drive not long ago when a friend (I call him Frederick) in the passenger seat of my '92 Sable pointed out something profound. A car driving in front of us had the queen of all vanity license plates. It was a young college-aged girl driving a pinkish Ford Focus with the license plate reading (prepare yourself, hold on tight, protect your privates, cover your ears and scream, etc.) LIZASTER. That's right: LIZASTER. I pulled up closer to get a good look and the young woman seemed miserable. I was expecting a crazy party girl in oversized sunglasses and a North Face Jacket. I was expecting a red head smoking a Marlboro Light with the window down while blaring Dropkick Murphy's. This license plate didn't seem fitting for the driver. She stared ahead as the day got dark and was unaffected by the beauty of Kelly Drive. She should have been jumping up and down in her padded movable seat to the sounds of Kelly Clarkson. So I devised a theory on this person because it's more fun than doing your job under some fluorescent sun.

We are going to assume that her name is Liz. She is a white, 22-year-old college senior who lives in the dorms, but visits home often. She started out in college as a well-behaved honor student who was still attached to stuffed animals and American Girl dolls. One night, early into her freshman year, a girl living down the hall invited Liz to her room for some drinks and extended and invite to an off campus party. (Nothing like a night of vodka and orange Gatorade to prime yourself for the latest off campus romp) Liz was scared but she wanted friends and a boyfriend. She had only made out twice before and was ready for a third. She thought this opportunity could garner friends and someone's tongue writhing about. She drank once in high school after the prom, where she encountered her second make out session. (Her first was at a dance, unwillingly, freshman year of high school) She acted drunker than she really was to wane the peer pressure. She got somewhat wasted, didn't black out, and started making out with her date in someone's closet. Her make out partner tried to get a finger blast in, but was denied immediately by Liz.

Liz was a good girl, always was, but tonight was the night when she would get obliterated drinking vodka and orange Gatorade from Burger King cups. Liz drinks her first cocktail consciously. She makes a mental note of the taste, which is vile at first, but then she eventually agrees with all of her new friends in unison, "You can't even taste the VODKA!" After the first cup one of her new friends starts blasting 'It Wasn't Me" by Shaggy off of her playlist and the all-girl dance party starts. Liz knows her dance moves are terrible so she sticks with a subtle hip thrust and slow head nod. "GO LIZ," shouts one of the girls. Liz thinks she is being sarcastic and immediately asks for another drink like she is an experienced drinker who asks for drinks all the time. She thought about asking for it 'on the rocks' but figured that would sound too forced (Good choice Liz). She takes down her second drink much faster than the first and now she is grinding up on a bunk bed to the bumping bass of Nelly's 'Ride With Me.' The girls sing the song together as the third cup is poured and they begin to put on their makeup for a group of upperclassmen boys patiently waiting around the keg for some freshman girls to come to their off campus party. This term 'Off Campus' scared Liz a bit. She didn't think she was ever going to need to step foot off campus to have fun, but tonight she embraced the fear.

So by the fifth drink Liz is ROPED, but doing a good job maintaining her balance and speech, which is even more assuring as the girls grab their keys, shut down the computer and head out of the dorms. One of the girls mentions that they are going to Tucker's house. Tucker plays lacrosse and loves it, loves steak, and loves what he calls: 'freshMEAT.' Tucker and his friends have been drinking ICEHOUSE out of a keg since the early afternoon and they are….as many of them proclaim throughout the day, "Ready to get their dicks wet." If only Liz knew that's what these boys were up to.

The girls arrive at the party acting wasted. Some of them really are wasted but most of them are putting on a show. They quickly make their way to the keg in a tight group, giggling the whole way. Red cups are distributed and Liz is dying to say something about how dirty the whole process looks but keeps quiet. She diligently fills her cup so she doesn't look like an amateur. She observes the room and notices about 20 sets of eyes leering at the group of young, fertile, and apparently drunk college freshman. This is unsettling for a moment until one of the girls hits the dance floor and starts bouncing to the sounds of 'Juicy' by Biggie. The rest of the girls join the brave dancing girl and start moving their hips. The group of girls is quickly joined by Tucker and some of his lacrosse teammates, who are reciting the song word for word as they work to cop a feel and laugh at each other's attempts. Liz feels the bulge of a midsection rubbing against her butt and is shocked at first. One of the girls shouts, "GO LIZ!" Liz doesn't think she is being sarcastic this time and starts dancing at furious pace. A junior lacrosse player is now draped around Liz's back as she finishes her first cup. It went down like nails, but she says she will have another when the junior asks if she is thirsty. She asks his name, Nathan, and they engage is meaningless conversation for a while. He is doing most of the talking, about himself, and she nods like he is talking about his first encounter with a ghost. As the night goes on Liz gains a confidence she never had before. She is moving at the speed of light, but not bumping into anything along the way. Her dance moves are no longer awkward and she has suddenly become and expert drinker. It's time to show everyone who she is so she notices a coffee table in the middle of the party, which seems like a perfect mini dance floor.

Liz hops up and starts dancing like a burning protestor. Her friends started to cheer her on and the boys start screaming, "Show your tits! FRESHMEAT! Show your ass!" Liz for some reason thinks showing her butt is more appropriate than her breasts and starts to wonder if the word Freshmeat is a reference to her college status. She stops wondering, bends over and pulls down her jeans to reveal her backside to the crowd. The guys erupt in sophomoric nature and ask for more. Her friends look at each other in shock and grow slightly jealous that she is getting so much attention. One of the boys runs by and slaps her on the butt, a move that a sober Liz would detest. Liz laughs it off and Nathan grabs her hand to help her off her new brave pedestal. He looks into her half open eyes and asks her if she wants to see his bedroom. She complies and they make their way upstairs.

Liz falls several times going up the steps, leaving Nathan shocked and excited. He knew she was drunk, but not this roped. She makes her way into his room, a newborn 4-legged animal adapting to the forest floor, and flops on the bed. Nathan immediately begins to make out with her although she is having trouble maintaining balance even while lying on his bed. His sheets and pillow smell like he hasn't washed them for weeks. Liz notices this and her tongue grows silent. He is plowing away snake style, but she has nothing. She begins to feel sick like the night she ate to many spaghetti-o's at a sleep over in the 4 th grade.

Liz jumps off the bed so quickly that the springs rejoice. She flies down the hallway looking for a bathroom. She doesn't miss the toilet or throw up down the hallway as you would expect in a story like this. She gets every last drop in the toilet, notices how cool the DNA stained tiled floor is, and falls asleep. About twenty minutes later Nathan notices this piece of Freshmeat and immediately grabs a digital camera. He sneers and snaps for about five minutes and hooks it up to his computer. Being a student in the age of facebook and Myspace he immediately starts sending the photos via text to party goers downstairs.

The herd of co-eds comes flushing up the steps to stare at the passed out Liz dreaming of 4th grade sleepovers. She would rather be partying like the good old days, making bracelets and pot holders while watching Grease on VHS with her friends. One of her dorm patrons decides to pick her up and take her back to her bed. Liz is placed quietly on her bed next to an array of stuffed animals. She is still dreaming of those sleepovers until she is awaken at about 8 a.m. by the girl who was nice enough to carry her home. Her friend tells her about how wild the night was after Liz left. One of the girls ended up in the same spot as Liz around 2 a.m.

Liz and her friend make their way to the dining hall for some eggs that look like her vomit from the evening before and toast from a toaster than can hold about 100 pieces of toast at a time. They sit with the rest of the girls who attended the party and everyone giggles and gasps as they talk about the night. Then the attention is turned towards Liz. "YOU GOT WILD last night Liz!" "Did you hook up with Nathan? Look out he can be a real CREEP." "Do you remember showing everyone your butt?!" GRANNY PANTIES!" The girls erupt in laughter. Liz replies with a courtesy laugh. "More like LIZASTER!" shouts one of the freshman girls as she finishes her Orange Juice. The crowd explodes…even Liz is giving more than a courtesy laugh. They repeat it over and over through the first semester.

Liz continues to hang out with this group of hard partying girls and feels out of place on most nights. She doesn't get nearly as drunk as she did that fateful night, but continues to go to lacrosse parties. When she comes home for Christmas break her father had a surprise waiting in the driveway. The pinkish Ford Focus was all hers. She decided to get a vanity plate bearing her infamous nickname. She thought the girls would love it, and they did.

Liz turned into the designated driver when the girls needed more Vodka and Orange Gatorade. They always asked to borrow the car and Liz's annoyance with the situation grew everytime someone asked to use her services. Liz grew apart from the girls by the time Freshman year ended. They stopped asking for her car and stopped reminding her about lacrosse parties.

By Sophmore year they stopped exchanging hellos in the Dining Hall. Her reign as Lizaster was over, and it didn't bother her all that much. She became focused on studies and started dating a well-behaved Philosophy Major who wore scarves. She was content; however that damned vanity plate. She kept is as a reminder of that semester. It was both a warning sign and a welcome sign. She gets embarrassed when people ask about its derivative. When she tells the story she leaves out the part about showing off her midsection. She was bearing it like a cross that day I saw her making her way down Kelly Drive.

People are strange, but more than that, they're good. They're good first, then strange.”

2008-01-03T14:08:00.001-05:00

BEST OF 2007

Albums (In Five Words Or LESS)

Sunset Rubdown, Random Spirit Lover - Exploded upon first listen.
LCD Soundsystem, Sound Of Silver - Touching. Honest. About Growing Old.
Menomena, Friend And Foe - Dark songs veiled by saxophone.
Arcade Fire, Neon Bible - I finally caved in.
Of Montreal, Hissing Fauna Are You The Destroyer? - Danceable and Tragic Explosions.
Busdriver, RoadKillOvercoat – Stream of conscious genius.

Songs (Short as well)

LCD Soundsystem, All My Friends - Just listen to it alone.
Bloc Party, Song for Clay (Disappear Here) - Bret Easton Ellis by Brits.
Rhianna, Umbrella - Silly beats, nice song.
Lupe Fiasco, Superstar - Rises and falls without notice.
The Shins, Sea Legs - Makes me want to swim.

Movies (Short too…more than five words)

Transformers - Knocked my tits off. Felt like a child. When I saw Jurassic Park as a young man I wanted to shit from excitement. This movie made me feel that way.

Darjeeling Limited - I am a Wes Anderson geek for sure, but the flashback scene when the brothers stop at the auto repair shop on the way to their father's funeral will haunt me forever.

Into The Wild - I could have watched a three hour film based solely on the relationship between Emile Hirsch and Hal Holbrook. When he tells Emile that he wants to adopt him….jesus it will break you down.

(I haven't seen There Will Be Blood or No Country For Old Men…they seem to be hot ones)

People Of The Year

Charlie Rose - Classiest man on television.

Michael Cera - I would thank him if I saw him.

Dwight Howard - Will rip a rebound off of your face, but smile when it's all over.

Tom Brady - Is the Justin Timberlake of pro sports. Why, because Timberlake transcends race. You will hear his music on all radio stations. When Tom Brady comes to the sidelines he is referred to as a 'Cold Ass White Boy', making them both Cold Ass White Boys.

Barack Obama - Kennedy figure for my generation. Please vote for him.

You - For reading this…thanks dude.

Themes of 2007

The reemergence of those damned UGG boots. COME ON….I thought these things would be gone quicker than L.A. Lights. I still see young women in sweatpants and UGG's talking on their cell phones as they place the keys in the door or their red SUV's. Stop…get some Air Max 90's.

The Wii has placed itself among such modern 'pop technology' achievements as the IPod and Personal Navigation systems. The latest Family Circus cartoon featured a kid playing the Wii. If Norman Rockwell were still around he would have painted a grandmother and her friends playing Wii bowling on Christmas Day. It will be around for quite some time and recognized as one of the greater machines of the late 2000's.

Young married or engaged couples getting expensive dogs from breeders. It's so 2007.

People telling stories about thinking someone using a Bluetooth was talking to them even though they were just talking on their phone. E.g.:
“I was walking down the street today and some GUY was talking into the air and I thought he was asking me a question…BOY WAS I WRONG! They were using a miniature phone receiver that attaches to the outer lobe of your ear!”

He says your name out loud; In miniature rooms where no one’s found

2007-11-03T21:55:00.000-04:00

You are walking down the streets of Philadelphia . Your sneakers rhythmically tread along the old splats of gum that decorate the sidewalk. The weather is changing and you start to appreciate where you are and how you got there. You might even stop and anticipate the official arrival of Michael Nutter as you hope he can save this fatalist empire. Then you stop, gasp and turn you head like a confused puppy. Is that a dead animal? Has a rodent spontaneously combusted leaving minimal remains?

No. It's a fucking weave. They are EVERYWHERE. Just walk down any street in the city and you will see a weave within minutes. Some of them are HUGE and they often get caught in chain linked fences. There are smaller weave remains that float limply off curbs and through the streets. They often act like vacuums as they roll down the street, picking up stones, sticks, trash and even some blunt and cigarette butts.

My question is: ‘How are they ending up on the streets?’ Are they the result of a street/ cat fight that involved women ripping out their opponent’s fake expensive hair? If they are where the hell are all of these scuffles? I am dying to see a chick fight that leaves a woman weaveless. I could see it now.

Woman 1: I told you I ain’t callin’ yo man on no prepaid cell phone!

Woman 2: My man said you been callin him all the time asking if he got tickets to the Keith Sweat show yet! Well…what is it biznitch?

Woman 1: Do not speak ill of Keith Sweat! I am going to rip out your fake expensive hair if you keep addressing me in such a manner.

Woman 2: Eat a dick Beeltch!

(A fight ensues leaving both woman weaveless and searching frantically through their purses for post-fight Newports)

Another hopeful theory is that they accidentally fall out like when guys lose their toupees in movies and cartoons following a sneeze. I could imagine a woman walking down the street, sneezing and hopefully farting at the same time, and her weave goes flying into the night like a bat that needs a haircut. She would act like nothing happened and proceed walking down the street with a lot less hair.

This phenomenon shall be known as the ‘Tumbleweave.’

I had the pleasure of seeing Sunset Rubdown play at the First Unitarian Church early in October. It might be one of the best live shows I have ever seen, solely based on lead singer, Spencer Kruug. This guy plays like he is on FIRE and everyone, including the band, looks at him in awe. He light the place on fire and had time to save us all from the smoke and flames.

Michael Nutter has the best voice out of any mayoral candidate in the history of politics. Imagine someone saying this with an angry Kermit voice, “Police will stop and frisk whoever they want. It’s not a black thing. It’s not a white thing! (Here is the amazing part) I don’t care if you are purple with white polka dots!

He actually said these things recently regarding the current dangerous state of Killadelphia.

Nutter is trying to sound like an authoritative figure, but a combination of the ludicrous, out of left field voice and reference to multi-hued criminals has me a little concerned. Think about all of those purple white-polka dotted people out there.

There is a purple guy standing on the Ben Franklin bridge as we speak ready to jump because of Nutter’s comments. He sheepishly says, “And they think the red heads have it bad. We don’t even have a group on Craig’s List and our soon to be fucking Kermit voiced mayor isn’t going to let me ride down Broad Street in peace. GOODBYE CRUEL WORLD!” SPLASH.

Don't Tell Me That I Have Changed...'Cause Man Of Course I Have

2007-08-12T23:08:00.001-04:00

You slam the empty bottle on the coffee table and pick up a tattered lighter to set some weed on fire and you have a flashback. You wonder where this all began. Why are you doing this? Radiohead’s ‘Creep’ is faintly playing in the background, the ‘what the hell am I doing here….I don’t belong here’ lyrics stick out. The flashback and self hatred subside as you exhale and wait for the next episode of the Two Coreys to come on.

You will always remember the first time you chemically altered yourself no matter what substance it was. That first beer you stole from the garage and drank nervously, prompting you to act and or pretend like you were obliterated. The first time you smoked some grass and realized why some many people liked Pink Floyd.

But where did this all begin? When did you decide to cross that moral line?
It was when you looked across the elementary school lunchroom and noticed one of your classmates writhing in pain. He had just ingested something that turned his face into abstract art. Someone dared him to do it. Someone opened their grimy hand to reveal several pieces of a tightly wrapped colorful candy. Your classmate gulps before he says,” All of them?” “All of ‘em!,” says another classmate as other students cover their faces like there is about to be an explosion. The classmate you saw writhing in pain had just placed 5 Warheads into his mouth.

Do you remember Warheads? If not here is some info via the online witch encyclopedia:

Warheads, also known as Mega Warheads, are a brand of sour candy manufactured by Impact Confections. The candy was invented in Taiwan in 1975 and was first imported to the United States by The Foreign Candy Company in 1993. For a while, "hot" versions of the candy were also available but proved to be less popular.
Warheads are marketed to children as an "extreme" candy. The name "Warhead" comes from the notion that the sour taste of the candies is akin to a real warhead going off in one's mouth, and the brand's mascot, Wally Warhead, is depicted as a boy with puckered lips and a small mushroom cloud eminating from the top of his head. A driving force behind the candy's popularity were informal competitions among schoolchildren to determine who could withstand eating the largest number of Warheads at once.

The last paragraph regarding informal competitions sums it all up. Warheads were your first introduction to the world of drugs and alcohol. You didn’t know it at the time, but those informal competitions and dares were your first foray into doing something that could eventually cause pain (hangovers, bug outs, bad reps) and a sense of danger (operating machinery while drunk or high). Those people daring you to place several Warheads are the same people who persuaded you into getting drunk before high school dances. Those people are the same people who told you to smoke grass before that dude came to your high school to talk about the dangers of tobacco. He most likely talked with one of those evil microphones through a hole in his neck.

It’s the same concept. You knew it was bad for you. You knew there could be some consequences, but you took the plunge. It was exciting and scary at the same time, just like that time you drank jungle juice and vomited all over the bar. Just like the time you took mushrooms and realized that your hand was the most complex living organism on earth.

That kid who was able to place about 10 Warheads in his mouth is most likely in an Old Country Buffet bathroom right now doing lines off the sink. It’s a pit stop on his road trip to an Interpol concert in North Jersey. The kid who decided not to place one Warhead in his mouth is working on Capitol Hill and is married with a nice car.

When you ask yourself ‘what the hell am I doing here’, don’t blame yourself. Don’t blame mom and dad. Blame the Warheads.

Don't Let It Bring You Down...It's Only Castles Burning

2007-07-22T13:42:00.000-04:00

BAR REVIEW
By: Cesar Aspadorante

Spot: RED SKY
Location: Old(e) City, 224 Market Street

Dress Code Violations: Sneakers, T-Shirts, Sandals, Frowns, Progressive Thought, Dust and Lack of Profound Jaw Line.

Dress Code Requirements: Collars, Hair Product, Phone Released after May '07.

Red Sky is a delectable lounge in the heart of the history-filled, Olde City district of Philadelphia. The front of the bar is unassuming; however the inside holds a world of blinding red lights and hot jams. Beers cost around $7.50 to $12.00…totally reasonable; whereas mixed drinks are only to be purchased with small sacks of gold. The crowd is twenty to thirty something young professionals looking to get down and dirty on a dance floor that is large enough for you to grind awkwardly next to your mate of choice. One of the most striking qualities of Red Sky is the amazing seating. Mini-cubes of leather provide plenty of butt space for you to sit. They may be extremely low to the ground and wobbly; however where else are you going to be able to sit on some audacious little seats like that!? Don't even think about stepping into the beautiful beacon of light that is Red Sky if you aren't going to at least move a little to the hot beats permeating from the BOSE speakers. This is the perfect place to find the next intro song for your MySpace page or the next great ring tone. If you are a disaffected hipster turn your scruffy cheek the other way and head to Skinner's. Red Sky is for smiles, dancing and comparing tans. Check out the candy rain coming from above at Red Sky next time you are looking for a hot, trendy and simply beautiful spot to hang in Olde City.

CIAO,
Cesar

"We smell the musk at the dusk in the crack of the dawn
We go through episodes too, like "Attack of the Clones"

Every Spark Of Friendship And Love Will Die Without A Home

2007-06-09T14:31:00.000-04:00

Ohhh the shore. We will all be filling our duffel bags with deodorant and underwear as 85% percent of the young heads in Philadelphia head to the Jersey shore for the weekend until the summer closes. We can't wait to fight through traffic in anticipation of something that we have seen a million times before. It's like the green light from The Great Gatsby. Our attention doesn't waver as we stare across the bay, but when we get there we see the same sweaty scene as people spray Miller Lite on their friends to the Journey song blasting from above.

The Jersey shore will thrill its visitors until the end of time, and its visitors will never lose faith in their beloved getaway. They will continue to throw cash into a damp shore house as a 'weekend only' participant. They will shine their sunglasses and wash their board shorts. They will look for love and get tickets for peeing in public, which will turn into a great story for a hungover breakfast. People will post 'U GOING TO THE SHORE ?' on MySpace pages when they start to get the shore fever in their cubicles as the work week comes to a close.

Cover bands sponsored by Budweiser will dominate the shore circuit as people request songs from the 80's and early 90's that are already played on repeat in ever bar in the country. Bon Jovi and Poison will get heavy rotation as shots are downed and lips are wiped. The lifeguards will walk around the bar like a blond, curly haired fraternity, who believe that they rule the school.

You will without a doubt run into people from high school and grade school to be followed by awkward “what are you up to these days” conversations.

The girls will rock their latest bright colored tight tops as the dudes don their latest Salvation Army t-shirt. People will dance and the beer flows until everyone makes their way to the streets for the drunken slice of pizza. The guys will try their best to woo women back to their place that houses about 15 dudes, but is only built for three people.

Maybe the outside shower will be a prime spot to get that much needed hook-up? Such a class move. Just take her out back, open that creaky door and lead her into the musty darkness. She will respect herself in the morning when she wakes up on your dirty kitchen floor in a sweaty tank top stained with Jagermeister. She will leave the house full of vigor and become the topic of conversation as you work on your tan at the beach the next day.

“Did you see that chick I made out with last night bro?”

“I don’t know browski I was pretty blacked.”

“Well so was she. In fact she was so blacked that she smoked my pole in the outside shower!”

(High fives ensue)

You soak in the rays and think about the amount of gel that is to be applied to your hair as the sun hides beneath the ocean. What striped button-up shirt should you wear? Will people like your new sandals? Is there a special on Miller Lites this evening? Is blacking out as I dance to arena rock really worth it? Of course it is bro. So is driving to the shore to drink, be sweet, dance, sweat, and do the same shit every weekend.

i know you love to hear yourself speak words that you think i can't follow

2007-04-21T22:22:00.000-04:00

You finger through your boring non-electronic mail and stumble upon a magazine/periodical that was sent from your old high school. They usually have clever names like: The Intelligencer, The Explorer, The Book With Pictures Of People Who Donated money, etc. They come about once a month to remind you that it is time to donate money.
These 'zines' tend to be filled with black and white glossy photos of people at fundraisers and sporting events. They read like the directions on your latest bottle of meds and none of the 'articles' are really worth reading or even perusing. There is usually a pic of some old head from the class of '25 at the homecoming game as he is being held up by a piece of galvanized steel. He raises one bony finger in the air to represent his school spirit; however he really is trying let his kids know that he did a number one in his pants.
You will flip through just about every page in these books until you reach the end.
That is when theses zines turn into letters from your old classmates letting you know that their lives are ten times better than yours. You are forced to read down the list of people from your graduating class and learn what they are up to these days. They usually read like this:

Trent Leatherberry '99 : Trent is now married to some ridiculously hot chick from high school that never noticed you in the first place. He drives a fast black car and just bought a huge house on the beach. He has been dominating at his job since he first walked in the place and is expecting to have a gorgeous little baby in the fall. Trent has recently donated a shit-load of money to the school and we are currently blowing him.

Marcus Beefheart '99 : Marcus has completed medical school at Georgetown and is currently working on curing all cancers. Marcus always had a huge penis; therefore we knew he would never let us down. He just got engaged to the hottest woman in Brazil, and they are set to get married in the fall. Did we mention he has a ridiculously huge penis?

This is when you are sitting at your parent's kitchen table (because you still live there) and realize that your life means NOTHING. Everyone else is making moves and babies and you are in the back seat still waiting for someone to pass the grass. You don't even make enough money to rent a studio apartment, and Trent and Marcus are running shit.
Does your high school know what they are doing to you? Don't they know that you aren't running the race like the rest of them?
Of course they do, and that's why they want you to join the race. You join the race, you make some loot, you get a double income….YOU DONATE MONEY.
Someone needs to put an end to these demeaning zines. They should just take out the last five pages so we don't have to look into the past to see that we have no future. I would try to put an end to all this, but I am WAYYYY to lazy. Good luck Trent and Marcus.

SIDENOTE:
TV On The Radio played one of the best shows in the history of time Friday night. That's all I have to say about that.

Disappear here

2007-03-18T22:20:00.000-04:00

The stink hits you as soon as you walk into the bar. Perfume, deodorant, hair gel, bar scum, lies, cocaine, lip gloss and false pride make for a nice scent cocktail. A cocktail as potent as the Long Island iced tea that a gelled up guy in a white button-up shirt and jeans drinks as he stands along the bar looking at himself in the mirrors. Everyone is smiling as their Miller Lite bottles glug like the water cooler in your office.

Ear drums are blown as the DJ spins the latest Akon collaboration jam so girls can take pictures of themselves dancing for their Myspace pages. As they dance they laugh hysterically at each other. They then embrace and exclaim their love for one another through subtle kisses on the cheek. When the song ends it's time to flip open the cell phone and stare at their latest glowing text message.

People exchange phony smiles and laughs as their friends scream into their ears over the music blasting throughout the bar. They have no idea what they are saying to each other, but it doesn't matter.

Gelled up guys think they are impressing women by slowly nodding their heads as they leer at the gyrating hips on the dance floor. They follow them to the bar as they stick their hands in their jean pockets to pull out a few twenties. "SHOTS FOR EVERYONE," the gelled up guys will exclaim as they try to decipher if it is going to take a couple of lines to get the gyrating hips back to their apartments.

"Do you live in the city? Really…me too! How is your view? What building do you work in? Isn't there are REALLY good Indian restaurant around there?"

These conversations will be slyly lead into the direction of a yearly salary and what college he or she attended. "I would do anything to be back in college for just a week. Just give me a week man! Were you in a sorority? I was in Kappa Alpha Beta Delta Fresca"

Girls come out of the bathroom and order glasses of white wine as they furiously look around the bar and dip their hands in and out of their purses. They look down at their shoes and grimace when they realize that they are covered in bar sludge. Time for another glass of white wine and trips to the ladies room. They come out of the bathroom again talking on their glowing cell phones with one finger stuck in their unoccupied ear. The people on the other line can't hear and word, but it doesn't matter.

A guy with a backwards hat and popped collar raises his meaty fists into the air as he downs his fifth Red Bull vodka. He is blasted, but his motor is still running on the fuel of Red Bull. He walks out of the stinky bar onto the sidewalk to smoke a Parliament and sneers at a group of adults walking home from dinner. He spits on the windshield of a passing cab, and looks back at his friends with a laugh-at-me smirk on his face. "Fucking terrorists man. I got a buddy in Iraq man. Kid is a fucking hero."

A group of ridiculously good looking blonde-haired girls roll their eyes at a guy in a yellow button-up shirt as he tries to tell them about his job in real estate development. "I work on Walnut street. I go to the gym there too. It's great. They have a squash courts and flat screens mounted on the treadmills. You won't believe the deal I got on this flat-screen at Best Buy." The ridiculously good looking blondes are waiting for him to say the magic words. "Do you guys party?" The blondes and the yellow-shirted guy will walk out of the bar well before closing time.

It's getting late and the crowd gets stuffy when they realize that the lights will be flicked on soon followed by bouncers in tight black t-shirts. "Everyone get the fuck out! You don't have to go home, but get the fuck out of here!"

Cell phones are flipped open for the usual drunk dials and text messages. Booty calls will be made and people will be disappointed. Several guys will desperately walk over to groups of random females to let them know that they have the goods back at their place.

The lights snap on and the bar patrons groan collectively. It's is time to fight for a cab so that they can be belligerent to the driver on their way home. People will fall asleep in the clothes they went out in and wake up early in the morning to call their friends about the night before. "The last thing I remember is dancing to that Akon song! Oh my god…we got pizza. I don't remember that AT ALL!"

You will see the same people doing the same things as soon as you enter the bar next weekend, but it doesn't matter.

Heart's colors changed like leaves

2007-03-10T14:35:00.000-05:00

PEOPLE WHO NEED TO BE PUNCHED

I saw a kid walking through Old City today with a t-shirt that read: I fart in your general direction. I wanted to punch him in the face.

I am BLOWN AWAY by the way people walk across the street when a car is coming towards them. I feel some people walk slower when a car is about to hit them. They "up their strut." If that makes any sense. I want to punch them all in the face.

The high school kids who use to food cart in front of my office, and talk to the guy inside like he is a complete asshole. "HEY OLD HEAD. I SAID WELL DONE OLD HEAD!" "DAMN OLD HEAD I AINT PAYING EXTRA FOR NO TOASTED BAGEL! YOU CRAZY!" All of these kids need to be punched in the face several times.

The people who feed the pigeons. They need to be covered with honey and then have bird seed dumped all over them and left under a bridge in West Philadelphia. Just like Home Alone 2: Lost In The City Of Dreams.

The homeless guy who complains that the cigarette I just lent him is not a Newport. He needs to be punched in the face (while wearing a latex glove).

Out-of-shape people who talk about working out all the time. I don't give a shit how hard your spin class was last night or how many miles you ran the other day. These people need to be punched in the gut while doing a sit-up.

People who incorporate global warming into small talk. All global warming is anymore is an extension of small talk. People who have nothing to say to you on the elevator will say something like, "Glad I brought my gloves today…it's FREEZING. (then the kicker) SO MUCH FOR GLOBAL WARMING!" I know weather is a go-to when you have nothing to say to someone you hardly know, and that's acceptable; however stop adding the global warming line at the end. "Man it's really hot out today for March. THAT AL GORE WAS RIGHT ABOUT GLOBAL WARMING!" People who bring up global warming while 'small-talking' should be struck across the head with a weathervane.

Some camera phone picks of the OF MONTREAL show at the Troc that my buddy Teddy Hef took. The show was a blast despite the hipster overload.

You Just Keep Me Hanging On

2007-02-17T13:54:00.000-05:00

You are driving along the glistening ice covered streets of Philadelphia. It's beautiful really. You don't even want to step on the few grass patches in the city because you could tarnish the purity of it all.

Until your life turns into an action film/video game/time to become a hero.

You are driving slowly along the highway to avoid slippage and the unexplainable happens. An obtusely shaped ice chunk comes flying off the hood of the car in front of you. Your world stops and the music creeping out your speakers becomes a soundtrack. The song seems perfect because the whole world starts to move in slow motion.

The ice slab floats through the air with grace leaving little bits of ice a snow in its trail like a frozen mist.

The music gets louder and your eyes don't leaving the icy piece of death headed for your windshield.

"Will it smash through my windshield and pierce my heart? Will my high school graduation picture be splattered across local news stations after I die from the flying ice?"

Then calmness flexes through your muscles. You don't think about being the victim of a freak accident. You don't feel so small and helpless. You MAKE MOVES.

As the spinning ice shard nears the windshield you jerk the wheel to the right, but have enough time to check to side mirror to make sure your path is clear. You move just enough and the ice dagger crashes down on your front left wheel. It smashes into about 74 pieces and remnants somersault off the wheel and onto your windshield; however these pieces are small and brittle.

You then slow down and your calmness turns into a swell of emotions. Your heart is sprinting out of your chest and you might even chuckle a little. It's better than any high you have ever felt.

You did it. You survived the horror from above, and you have never felt more alive. You cheated death, and it was easy. You didn’t know you had it in you. It’s a refreshing feeling knowing that you were so money in a dire situation.

Will you be that sharp the next time? Who knows, but that's the beauty of the snow.

This is one of my new favorite human beings. His name is Cadence Weapon and he is a rapper from Canada. He is simply bananas. He raps about Zelda and existentialism. If you hate rap you will love him. The first time you will hear him your intestines will explode from your belly. It will be easy to clean up though because you will have a smile on your face from the maniacally constructed sound.

Oh how I sighed when they asked if I knew his name

2007-01-14T21:39:00.000-05:00

With the end of the Eagles season comes the end of information and stats for me to read at work to waste time. There are no injury reports or game predictions to keep my busy. There are no more "Garcia rising out of the ashes" stories to read as the time passes by. There's a black hole in the uselessness throughout my workday. I need something else. I need some more useless information to pump in my brain as my computer screen sucks the life out of my eyeballs.

I recently read a line in Chuck Klosterman's latest opus that struck me: "Prog rock is not music about the future. It about something from the past that never happened." In case you were wondering what prog rock is, here is horrible definition from Wikipedia:
Progressive rock (sometimes shortened to prog or prog rock) is a subgenre of rock music which arose in the mid-to-late 1960s, reached the peak of its popularity in the 1970s, and has continued as a form of popular music to this day. It is commonly associated with symphonic rock and art rock, although the term progressive rock in today's usage often embraces a significantly wider spectrum of music than these styles.

Progressive rock acts often combine elements of jazz and classical music, folk and world music influences with rock formats, often rejecting specific genre norms, and instead utilising relatively uncommon musical structures and ideas. As such, it can be seen as an approach to songwriting as well as a genre of its own.

The most important line in the definition is about it's approach to songwriting. I had always felt that prog rock had theatrical elements dervived from fantasy literature. They sounded more like narratives than songs to me. The first time I realized that I was listening to prog rock was when I was blasting Rush's Tom Sawyer from my beautiful 93' Mercury Sable. I originally thought this song was about a futuristic Tom Sawyer, which I believe it is; however after reading Klosterman I decided that the elements of the song took place in a land from long ago that never was. (Stay with me)

This very concept has fascinated me for about the past 3 weeks. I have never been a fan of fantasy literature. I only read the Hobbit because there was a test on it when I got back from summer break. I have decided that my fascination with song lyrics and meanings has led me to this fascination. A completely nonexistent world can be created and it's story can be told through music that's described as: often rejecting specific genre norms, and instead utilising relatively uncommon musical structures and ideas. BRILLIANT.

Klosterman's idea of this music being from a time and place that never happened is going to be my filler. I am going to use this idea to fill my time wasting internet gap. I have decided the submerse myself into the definition of prog rock.

I have been listening to David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders From Mars on repeat while smoking grass and playing Nintendo Wii since the inception of 2007. This is a concept album, which tells the story of an alien who comes to Earth to save it through rock and roll because it is apparently going to end in five years. Ziggy comes to Earth and is consumed by the lavish rock and roll lifestyle, which eventually leads to his death. He was killed by the ideals that he was going to save us from.

This album and it's story have become a part of me. I can see the story as the music plays. Its sweeping and georgeous and I recommend it to anyone that has ears. It isn't the grass either…it's Ziggy.

The question that has haunted me since my recent prog rock/Bowie obsession is this: Can Ziggy Stardust be labeled as prog rock?

Well it sure as hell has a narrative tone that deals with the unknown; however it doesn't contain uncommon musical structures. It contains the narrative elements of prog rock without the musical style. It only takes 11 songs to tell a story that can be played over and over again in your head for the rest of your life. Prog rock contains ideas of a non-existent world created by the artist that are left for you to create.

So I have decided that Ziggy Stardust is a concept album with prog elements. I have also decided that it doesn't matter. Does it really matter what genre of music I am listening too? Should I be concerned with what it has been labeled? Of course not because all art sould be consumed with and individualist approach as opposed to being an idealist. Many people would call me an fool for labeling Ziggy Stardust as a prog rock album. Celebrated rock journalists would call me an amateur, which I am.

Those people are the idealists.

Wait...They Don't Love You Like I Love You

2006-12-24T23:02:00.000-05:00

2 Thousand SIZIX

2006 was a delectable year.

People continued to read less.

Dancing with the Stars placed tap shoes on the nation and let us groove with a sick high school wrestler and a former football star.

Whenever we walk into a diner we can't help ourselves from asking for Chicken Noodle Soup with a soda on the side.

The crocodile hunter made us weep…when he stuck his finger up the butt of a completely unaware and innocent reptile.

Music released in '06 that was enjoyable:

TV ON THE RADIO-Return To Cookie Mountain
There is no need to try and understand or say something completely pretentious about this album. It never gets old, and it will haunt you. (Not like a ghost or phantasm)

ADAM SAMBERG AND JT - "It's my dick in a BOX"

THOM YORKE- Eraser
Made you feel sorry for yourself…while dancing.

GHOSTFACE KILLAH-Fishscale
He rapped about mermaids.

Movies released in the year of '06 that were great to view with a friend and some popcorn:

HALF NELSON - An idealist teacher forgets about No Child Left Behind. It's not because he is smoking crack either…it's because he gives a shit.

MONSTER HOUSE - Captured the essence of kids in the suburbs who are bored with riding their bikes down the same street everyday.

Reading material of '06 that people will enjoy with a cup of Earl Grey tea:

CHUCK KLOSTERMAN IV : A DECADE OF CURIOUS PEOPLE AND DANGEROUS IDEAS
Philosopher for a generation that is fully aware and completely confused at the same time. His Esquire piece about the use of the term, Guilty Pleasures, made more sense that your local news anchor.

GREAT GATSBY
Should be on every 'best of' list even though it was published in 1925. When you are upset that someone has a nicer cell phone than you…it's time to pick this up again.

Ban of '06

THE SMOKING BAN(ter)

Remember when you had a friend sleep over, who stole some cigs from an older sibling or Wawa and you had to wait until the middle of the night to sneak outside and have a smoke? That is what you have to do whenever you want to have a smoke in Philadelphia.
There is absolutely nothing wrong with this ban, and it has nothing do with health reasons. It has to do with social skills. You are forced outside to a quieter setting where people are feeling your pain. It's making it easier to meet people in person as opposed to putting them in your top 8 on MySpace.
It's better to talk to someone outside the bar as opposed to screaming yourself horse trying to introduce yourself in the bar. So instead of fake laughing at someone because you have no idea what they said in the bar, you can hear what they have to say outside while smoking. Will this make is easier to talk to the opposite sex? Yes, until you go back in the bar and fake laugh at them when they tell you their grandmother was killed in a Rascal accident on the Ben Franklin Bridge.

BEST CLICHÉ THINGS SAID ABOUT THE SMOKING BAN:

"You know what the best part is? When I go home at night I don't smell like smoke anymore"

"It is actually making me smoke less!"

"At first I thought it was complete horseshit…now I love it!"

"Hey what do you think about the smoking ban? Oh really…cool…the best part is that I don't stink like smoke when I come home from the bar and I smoke less. (fake laugh) Do you want to go out for dinner sometime? Oh cool…I didn't think so. Do you have a light?"

My mind has changed my bodys frame, but God I like it

2006-12-03T21:59:00.000-05:00

Many Philadelphians exit this gorgeous smelling city when their work or play day is over by traveling along the Vine Street Expressway/ I-676/The Gateway to Hell. This is a semi-underground roadway that takes no prisoners, and laughs in the face of those who signal when they switch lanes. It can be very convenient if you don't feel like dealing with brake lights while trudging through Center City; however it can also be viewed as another dimension on the verge of an apocalyptic meltdown.
Some choose to travel at ludicrous speeds along 676 causing their headlights to trail as they whiz by your vehicle, and some decide that there is no need to travel over 25 MPH. There is no peace or common ground along the Vine Street. Most of the travelers don't even let you know if they are doing a three lane change at 87MPH because there must be an invisible sign before you get on the road that tells drivers they are prohibited from using their turn signals.
The atmosphere of 676 is reminiscent of the wild car chases in the Mad Max movies. You know where people are swinging axes from the hoods of vehicles as they take out other cars along the roadway. People should start attaching missile launchers to the hoods of their cars if they plan to make it home safely.
City Council should a pass a law allowing the for the installment of heavy duty BOSE speakers along 676 so they can blast speed metal as people are flying or crawling down the road. This would make the experience more fitting and harrowing at the same time. Imagine cruising down the Vine Street with your windows open listening to listening to some Sepultura? You would be taking out Dodge Neons in no time.
There are reports of ghost cars traveling along this highway as well as coffins with wheels traveling over 70 MPH. There is no escaping the Vine Street because it can easily knock a few minutes off of your commute. What should we all do then?
Join the club. Paint gnarly looking flames on your car and tie some sort of animal/human carcass to your bumper. The flames don't even have to flame colored; neon green would work well. Hire a shirtless goon with a nose ring to sit atop your hood while he swings a spiked bat at other vehicles passing by. Smash all of the windows out of your car along with your head and brake lights. Get an anarchy symbol tattooed to your forehead and take the ride baby…take the ride.

Hold your heart courageously as we walk into this dark place

2006-11-05T22:25:00.000-05:00

Things you should never be ashamed of:

Being white and blasting Public Enemy from your '93 Mercury Sable

Wearing high black socks with shorts

Sharting

Listening to whatever you want, even if it's the Cheetah Girls

Not being obsessed with the Jersey shore in the summer if you are from Philadelphia

Not having more than 3 friends

Dressing up for Halloween no matter how old you are

Twirling your tissue into a cone and putting it up your nostril to remove a sharp booger

Reading the Comics section in the newspaper

Pooping at work

Riding your bike with a helmet

Eating something greasy

Going to the movies by yourself

Not watching shows like Seinfeld, 24, Lost, Sopranos, Dancing With the Stars, and anything else that people constantly talk about and say, "OH MY GOD YOU NEVER WATCH THAT SHOW! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE MISSING!"

Drawing pictures of robots for fun

Being Single

Driving a shitty automobile

Practicing dance moves like the Crip Walk or the Carlton

Your family and friends

Just Feel Like Showing Some Love For Things I Love:

I was a lover, before this war

2006-10-24T05:40:00.000-04:00

Halloween is a holiday that you will experience in phases. When we are children halloween is a surreal experience. Your grade school teacher most likely dressed up as a witch on this wonderful day and handed out mini-Snickers before morning recess. School was part of the holiday because everyone's spirits were raised, and your teachers knew there was no way you were going to concentrate on Social Studies.
When you were in that middle-school freshman year of high school phase you might have been a bit too cool for school. You most likely went trick or treating with no costume like a punk, sneering as people sheepishly dropped some peanut butter cups in your hands.
Halloween in college can be one of the best nights of the year because this is the time in your life when you can easily get your hands on a susbtance that would make you hallucinate. This makes the Halloween party you are attending surreal, just like when you are in grade school. It's a beautifully vicious cycle.
Halloween was always an underrated make-out holiday as well. Everyone seems to get down on Halloween. Maybe because all women dress up as sluts on this day. Girl just add the word: slutty in front of every costume. SLUTTY cop, SLUTTY witch, SLUTTY vampiress, SLUTTY anthropoligist, etc. etc.

I am sick of seeing pirates and hobos every halloween. People need to get more creative on the 31st. Here are some suggestions:

Steve Zissou (or any member of team Zissou) -- This costume is easy. Blue pants, blue shirt and a tight redd skull cap. You will be the talk of the town.

Bruce Willis (Die Hard) -- This costume is EXTREMELY EASY, and when people find out who you are they will stand and cheer. All you need is some dirty khaki's, wife beater and some scruff on your face.

Howard Taft -- This costume is perfect for a portly fellow. If you are not portly you can add a pillow. This is a conversation starter, and you could spit out facts about the fattest president when people ask who you are. (You will most likely not make out if you were this)

Meth Head -- This is an upgrade from the ever so popular bum costume. You need to wear a dirty white t-shirt and some brightly colored sweats. An empty robitussin bottle would be a good thing to have hanging out of your pocket or hanging from your neck.

Yellow Journalist : Yellow Journalism is a ejorative reference to journalism that features scandal-mongering, sensationalism, jingoism or other unethical or unprofessional practices by news media organizations or individual journalists.
This term is hardly used anymore, but it would make a great costume. All you have to do is wear all yellow and a fedora hat with one of those press cards sticking out from the top. You might even want to have a camera hanging from your neck as well.

Good luck this Halloween and try to come up with something fresh.

Like cows in the city, they never looked so pretty

2006-09-12T06:31:00.000-04:00

The Culture Of The Elevator

Elevators have been a part of the office culture since people started getting real lazy and making alot of money. They teleport us to the next region of heaven or hell while we feel almost helpless as the metal cart travels north or south at unknown speeds. Time on an elevator alone can be enlightening or gut wrenching. Traveling on the elevator with others can be a harrowing experience.
When we first step onto the metal box consumed in white noise it's almost surreal. It's comparable to watching a sporting event in a dome for the first time. You are somewhat trapped, but you know there is still alot of room to move. Not that you can do much moving in the elevator, but it moves itself.
The button is pushed, the doors close, the breath is held for a second and almost everyone on an elevator looks upwards. Sometimes to check how close you are to the desired floor, but many look up because it can be somewhat akward in an elevator.
Getting packed in an elevator when you first get into work in the morning can turn into an anxiety ridden event. First off you don't feel like being squished next to Bob from sales and the dude from the web design department that smells like patchouli. (Wiki or Google Patchouli...you will know what it is...or smells like.) Second there is the fear of a conversation with someone from your department that is simply going to bombard you with small talk about your weekend or the weather over the weekend. There is also the threat of morning breath with everyone in the elevator causing people to talk with their mouths closed or they will slyly place their hands in front of their mouth the block to stink germs.
Being on the elevator with just one other person can be troublesome too. If you don't know them there might be a stale hello when you first step on, but what's next? The aforementioned upwards stare. It's bound to happen. The other person with you might lightly clap their hands or casually look at their cell. You might even catch them peering at you for a second, but they quickly flash their eyes upward when you are caught giving a counter-glance. When your tandem elevator ride finally comes to an end you are relieved and ready to sit at your desk and do nothing.
There is also some elevator lingo other than horrendous small talk that is thrown around from time to time to lighten the situation. If you are on an elevator in a building that is only a couple of floors, you have instant comedy. If all the buttons have been pushed and you have to stop at every floor before your floor hits this is usually said: "Looks like were taking the local!" It is usually said by an older balding guy in the office who has been using the line for ages. That is when you fake laugh but cover your mouth in case of bad breath right before you start akwardly staring upwards at nothing.
A CLOSE DOORS button on the elevator is like that EASY button seen in Staples commercials. It can save your mental life. If the IT dude who is never going to stop talking about the upcoming Transformers movie is coming down the hall towards the elevator...BOOM. You just light that CLOSE DOORS button and don't even think about it. Maybe he was in a hurry, but you deserve a ride alone.
Riding alone is sometimes accompanied by singing. I asked several people and they too feel themselves belting out a tune in the elevator when traveling solo. You need to be aware as to when the box is going to stop at the next floor so you don't get caught singing a New Edition song that you secretly rock on your IPOD.
The culture of the elevator needs to be studied more, and a list of rules should be placed in the elevator.
1. No Talking (Especially on your cell)
2. No looking upwards
3. Don't tell a horrible joke (See rule #1)
4. You have a right to dick someone with the CLOSE DOORS button
5. Take the fucking stairs sometimes

Coming up next: Rules and Regulations When Riding a Monorail

The more you try to erase me, the more I appear

2006-08-07T05:34:00.000-04:00

The women directly to your left are the rock godesses of the band HEART. Sisters Nancy and AnnWilson were gnarly guitar players and could wail like women who had just been dumped. One of their more popular hits was Barracuda. Barracuda is a song that you don't want to listen to in the car because it will get you so hype that you will achieve speeds of over 100 mph, resulting in a horrible wreck. I was listening to Barracuda once while crossing a drawbridge in New Jersey that was opening for a tutugboat. I disregarded the flashing lights and gave it a shot. Needless to say I made the jump while laughing maniacally and screaming, "OHHHHHHHH BAAAARRRAAACUUUUUUDDAAA!" If I was listening to the Moody Blues in my '93 Sable I wouldn't even had come close to jumping that drawbridge.
One of my personal favorite jams by Heart is Magic Man, which first appeared on their Dreamboat Annie album. It's not as bone jarring as Barracuda, but the lyrics are about a man I aspire to be...the Magic Man. Not the Magician. Not David Blane. THE MAGIC MAN.

Here are some lyrics:

cold late night so long ago
When i was not so strong you know
A pretty man came to me
Never seen eyes so blue
I could not run away
It seemed we'd seen each other in a dream
It seemed like he knew me
He looked right through me
"come on home, girl" he said with a smile
"you don't have to love me yet
Let's get high awhile
But try to understand
Try to understand
Try try try to understand
I'm a magic man."

First things first the magic man is one of the coldest cats to grace vinyl. He was straight chillin at a bar one night when one of the Wilson sisters (pictured above) noticed him from across the room, and as soon as she saw him she knew that if she went home with him she wouldn't regret it. He wasn't the type of dude who was going to end up being a regretful hookup or a vomit inducing one night stand. He was an absolute beast and she knew it.
The lyrics note, "It seemed like he knew me...He looked right through me." Talk about charm. It was seeping out of the Magic Man's pores, and women were helpless when he turned it on.
There wasn't any small talk between the two either because that's just not how the Magic Man rolls. He's a straight shooter. He doesn't sugarcoat anything. He want's the mashed potatoes without the gravy. He simply drops a pimp bomb on her with, "Come on home, girl." She didn't hesitate for a second when he threw this line at her.
The line that really clinched the deal was, "You don't have to love me yet...Let's get high awhile." BOOM is what he should have said because the chick would have hit the floor at this point. He lets her know that he wants no strings right off the bat. He isn't going to wait till next weekend and never answer the phone. He basically tells her, "Listen baby...I am going to take you home tonight and make your toes curl, but I don't want you calling me next weekend."
He uses that creamy line as a segway to "let's get high awhile." You know the Magic Man isn't talking about his own weed. Of course the he is going to smoke the women's shit like a cold killer. Magic Man is the guy who gets high every day, but never bought a bag of grass. Weed finds him because it wants a player of his caliber smoking it.
Then he tries to explain in the simplest of forms: "Try to understand (I REPEAT) Try try try to understand...I'm a MAGIC MAN" He says all that he has needed to say in a matter of minutes. A female approaches him and he shoots from the hip. He lets her know that he is one of the coldest dudes she will ever meet and that he is going to take her home and make earth shattering love to her, but she has to uderstand. She has to understand that this cat is one of a kind. He comes to your home, smokes your weed, tears your shit up, leaves early in the morning and you will remember him for the rest of your life.
The Magic Man doesn't fuck either...he makes love. He makes women cry with joy and tremble for hours afterwards. Every woman Magic Man has ever slept with has orgasmed multiple times.
Magic Man is a man all men want to be. He tells you everything you need to hear in a matter of minutes, and no woman has ever turned him down. Next time you hear this song through your clock radio speakers turn it up, and TRY TRY TRY TO UNDERSTAND.

The Road Don't Like Me

2006-07-23T07:11:00.000-04:00

Due to the apocalytpic weather conditions sweeping through Philly and New Jersey it's only a matter of time that a legend "could" be spawned. This is a clip from CBS3.com's (local news) website:

The sky quickly went from beautiful and sunny to dark and stormy as the rain began falling shortly after 4 p.m. on Saturday and parts of Southern New Jersey received much of the wrath.

A strike of lightning caused a bizarre accident in Burlington County late Saturday evening. A 13-year-old boy was shocked while playing an electric guitar when his home was hit by a bolt of lightning in Springfield. The teenager suffered some burns to his hands but he is expected to be okay.

This 13 year old has no idea what path lies before him. A gift from the rock gods has been sent to New Jersey, but this gift can only be opened if this 13 year old fully realizes his new powers. Does this kid know what this means? Does he have any idea that he could be able to shoot lighting from his amp someday?

This power from above that has been bestowed on this boy could go in multiple directions. He could use these new found powers to be one of the greatest guitar players in the world, or he can become one of the gnarliest guitar players to ever rule the land of Death Metal.

The fact that he is from New Jersey could be an obstacle in itself. He could grow up without ever cutting his hair and form a metal band called Skull Fuck. Skull Fuck's lyrics will be riddled with satanic refernces, and they will become and popular among the Death Metal scene, but thats about it.

Some asshole 14 year old, also from New Jersey, will take the lyrics too seriously and show up at junior high with an uzi. Another idiot 12 year old from the Garden State will find a Skull Fuck record in his older brothers collection, which will prompt him to molest the family pet. (It could be any pet...even a ferret)

Skull Fuck will refernce the fact that their lead guitar player obtained his amazing skills through a "mighty force of nature" in just about all of their songs. Their first album cover will have a skeleton holding a guitar like it's his cock in a proud, yet suggestive stance. The guitar will be spewing lighting bolts that will be reminiscent of sperm.

If this 13 year old doesn't go the death metal route he could eventually be a part of rock and roll folklore. Like The Natural his skills will be the product of a force of nature. The legendary bat used in The Natural was made from a tree that was struck by lightning. This boy could be the Roy Hobbs of rock.

He will appear out of the darkness in a smokey bar one night and take charge of an open mic night. He will play like no one in the world has ever played and the crowd will be reduced to tears as his fingers emit electricity that moves the bar patrons. A struggling independent music label owner will be at the bar that night and discover him.

This new legend will be known as Hobbs. Internet geeks will debate for years that the name was taken from Calvin and Hobbes comic strips. They will not even know about The Natural at that point in time.

One night when he is the musical guest on Conan O'Brien he will reveal the origin of his name, which will spawn even more internet controversy. He will also reveal that he gained these musical superpowers from a bolt of lightning causing hipsters across the world to write him off as an overrated mutant.

This young man know has a tremendous burden on his shoulders. His music could change the world. His music could also lead to destruction. Let's hope that we are hearing the latest from Hobbs in the year 2025.

It's deep how you can be so shallow

2006-06-08T06:14:00.000-04:00

I am partly responsible for this hurricane of hair.

While in college I landed an internship with the Washington Wizards for the 2000- 2001 season. I was constantly given busy work, like any other internship, but one of my assignments spawned a legend. I would walk around the arena (MCI Center) all day doing ridiculous things like stuffing kiosks with advertisements for monster truck rallys, help the mascot get his gear together and I was once summoned to measure Dikembe Mutumbo's cock when they were playing the Sixers. It's 74 inches.

The All Star game was being held in D.C. that year so I was especially busy getting ready for the star studded extravaganza. I was excited for this event until they dropped a bomb on me. There were no interns allowed on the premises for the whole All-Star weekend. How could they do this to me? I had to measure Dikembe's cock! I needed to put my stamp on this thing somehow.

How did I get involved? I had the wonderful job of punching out the little holes on All-Star ballots for about 2 weeks straight before the game. They wanted Wizards on that All Star team so they had me sit alone all day long and punch ballots. Six out of my eight hours at the job were consumed by punching holes in paper cards by myself in a dark empty arena. I would sit on the courtside seats with a trashcan below to catch the confetti that was created by picking your favorite NBAer for the All-Star game. They expected me to pick all Wizards, but I couldn't sleep at night knowing that I had been punching holes for Jahidi White at Center for the Eastern Conference All-Star game. This was the year Jordan came back with a puffier face and I didn't vote for him either most of the time. Seeing Jordan in a Wizard's uniform took away from the mythology. The Jordan I remember is flying off the charity stripe with his gold chain flailing in the wind.

So as you can guess from above I voted for Nash....about 17 trillion times. Everyday I would come into that arena sit on my foldout chair and poke my ballpoint right through the perforated circle next to: STEVE NASH, G DALLAS MAVERICKS. This was done every day for what seemed like an eternity. I would become delirous and have visions. I would see myself on the free-throw line at the MCI with millions of holes that I punched out of those damn ballots falling from the sky covering the top of my head and shoulders as I hit game winning free throws against the Utah Jazz and Atlanta Hawks. I would see Nash in the late night emerging from the trees in my backyard as I was walking into the house thanking me for voting for him. Voting for Nash became part of my soul, and I made it a point to tell everyone that he would be on the Western Conference All Star team that year. I was going to singlehandedly give him the respect that he deserved at that point in his career.

Did he make the All Star team? Of course not. It was nearly impossible even with my 17 trillion votes for him. The fans pick the starters and coaches pick the subs. Kobe and Jason Kidd were the starters at guard that year, and Gary Payton came off the bench for the West. Whoever was collecting those ballots might or might not have notcied the plethora of votes for that white ball of hair. My constant Nash chatter combined with my strengthening of finger muscles from punching ballots for him started the revolution. I am (partly) the reason that white journalists wrote articles claiming racism when he won back to back MVP awards. I am (partly) the reason why you have been emailed pictures of him trashed and showing random females his nips and chest hair. None of us are that far apart. We are all connected somehow in this wild land of ours. I may never meet Steve Nash, but if I did...he should thank me.

A word that MUST be used more:

Word of the Day
billingsgate \BIL-ingz-gayt; -git\, noun:
Coarsely abusive, foul, or profane language.

Chaney would yell at him in his own particular patois -- an unapologetic stream of billingsgate far more creative than Marine drill instructors or master rappers. (the end of that sentence is amazing.)
-- George Vecsey, "Learning at Temple: Se Habla Chaneyism", New York Times , March 19, 2000
Its style is an almost pure Army billingsgate that will offend many readers, although in no sense is it exaggerated: Mr. Mailer's soldiers are real persons, speaking the vernacular of human bitterness and agony.

I'm like Bond in the octagon

2006-05-11T06:48:00.000-04:00

Francis Ford Coppopla directed this 17 minute, 80-riffic, 3-D opus that could only be seen at Disney World. It's Barbarella meets Broadway with it's dance sequences and shiny outfits that no one from the future will ever wear.
According to the legendary IMDB :
At a cost of about one million dollars per minute of film, this was, minute for minute, the most expensive motion picture of all time.
This is something that has to be released on DVD because of the cultural implications. It's Michael Jackson, the first glam-pop star, in his own twisted ludicrious version of Ziggy Stardust. When there were elaborately costumed hair metal bands running around, Michael reminded us that you could be theatrical without spitting beer as you ripped through an ovderdone solo.
There is no denying that Michael was an absolute beast in his prime. No matter what you say about the man now, he revolutonized the music video industry scene with his mini-films and over-acting.
This is the project that he figured would save us all. This was going to make up for the movie version of the WIZ http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0078504/ . How could he lose? People percieved this film as an overdone sci fi opera that would only make money on the names attached. Something that many of us would say if something similar was released today.
How about 50 Cent in a 20 minute sci-fi 3-D IMAX flick with Angela Lansbury as the villianess who is trying to eliminate all forms of music across the galaxy. It's Footlose meets Alien 3. He could have a bumbling computer generated sidekick, voiced by Orlando Jones, who painstakingly tries to act gangster along 50. It could be called TRAPPIN 5-O. Critics would pan it, but it would have a cult following and be even more popular 20 years after it is released. This is a trend that was accelerated by the internet. The internet is a forum for the forgotten. A place where mediums can survive through message boards and websites like 80'sTshirts.com. Just look at the Chuck Norris net boom.
It seems that Ebay is the only place that you will find Captain EO if you are lucky. Would it be an afterthought if we didn't have services such as EBay and trillions of blogs opening media time capsules and reinventing them? Captain EO is now available on YouTube.com so you can your buddies can smoke some grass and watch it in every Sunday after a hard Saturday night. It can become a ritual. Can you imagine a dorm room:

Gnarly Dude: "Last night was bananas bro...I am hungover. Want to smoke and watch Captain EO?"
Crusty Dude: "Broski you read my mind. Michael Jackson was a man child back then. This movie was way ahead of it's time and references our current obsession with the bird flu pandemic."

This conversation without a doubt happened. Maybe not those exact words, but everything has become a significant piece of popular culture due to the word wide web. There is a time and place for everything and the little box that is sucking the juice out of your eyes right now is the why. Just look at the tagline at the bottom of the poster:
WE ARE HERE TO CHANGE THE WORLD.

Gnarly Dude: "How ironic dude...a movie about the future becomes a piece of the future! I think weed makes me smarter."

You look like David Bowie, but you've nothing new to show me

2006-04-21T06:12:00.000-04:00

Snakes on a Train

I have talked about Bar Demons before making for uncomfortable situations, but I have another species of annoying humans: Train Snakes. They can demolish your morning no matter what day of the week it is. It could be Friday, and you could be leaving at lunch for a bullshit podiatrist appointment,and your day could still be reduced to rubble. You could be sitting in the window seat all alone in a three seater and a snake will make the beautiful landscape you are scoping look like the post apocalyptic mayhem in the Mad Max movies. Like real snakes they are stealthy and have no idea how much people fear them. Here they are:

The Snapper: The snapper is socially inept. There is no stopping the snapper's lips from flapping. The snapper can't control the volume of his/her voice, nor can they control the anxiety that the other passengers feel when they step on the train. They will talk about ludicrous bullshit like what their kids were wearing this morning as they stepped out to ride the big yellow. The snapper especially loves mondays because then they can talk about every single detail from last night's Soprano's episode. "Do you think Vito is going to get WHACKED?" I wonder if Carmella has a new found love for Tony post-shooting?"
Imagine someone screaming this aloud to the person next to them when all you want to do is sit in silence and wallow in your monday misery. The snapper has the ability to break sound barriers. How? No matter how loud you turn up the volume of your Ipod they will ring through, and not even think twice about it. Snappers will be sued in the future by Apple for the hearing loss that their product causes. It's the snapper's fault we are all going to be deaf by 2013.

Crust Man: Crust man is also not to keen on social situations. Why? Hygiene. Crust man, unlike the snapper has to be sitting close to you to affect your ride. He is most effective when sitting directly in front of you so you can stare at the huge white flakes falling out of his hair onto your pants. Crust man wears the white button-up with pit stains as bright as the shining sun. He wears orthopedic shoes that squeak even if he wiggles his toes beneath his crusty white tube socks. Crust man loves indirectly bumping into victims as he waddles through the aisle. This is how he spreads his snake venom, which is similar to real snakes that spit venom at their prey.
Crust man is usually the IT guy at the office, which isolates him even more from society. This doesn't help his acknowledgement of the grease dripping from his hair. Crust man enjoys drive thru fast food and collecting Doctor Who merchandise. (That has nothing to do with him riding on the train, but you just know it by looking at him)

Ambivalence Woman: Ambivalence woman pretends that her kid doesn't exist despite the fact that they are firing game boy cartridges at the other passengers. She usually looks out the window as her child reeks havoc on other riders. Ambivalence woman's kid usually is the ADD poster child. You know the shoes that light up everytime they take a step. The constant questions that ambivalence woman doesn't even attempt to answer.
Her kids knows no boundaries when it comes to ruining the lives of others. Every once is a while ambivalence woman loses her shit causing her to beat her child without mercy for about 5 seconds making the rest of the train refrain from a thunderous applause. This doesn't last long though. Then the child begins to hysterically cry causing the mother to continue staring out the window pretending her own flesh and blood isn't even next to her.

Being all the train with all three of these snakes can make you jump in front on the train instead of on it. There should be a special car on the train labeled: SNAKES ONLY.

But it's always with trust that the poison is fed with a spoon

2006-03-22T06:19:00.001-05:00

Ipod; therefore Ipoot
A Short Story (Not Based on Actual Events)

It's 5:47am and of course I am up before the 6:30 alarm sounds. After a night of extinguishing my stress fire with several rum and cokes this tends to happen. Now for the rollover test. Staring at the ceiling laying completely still feels comfortable, but once I rollover to get out of bed it could all go to shit. So here we go...roll to the left...feet on the ground...BOOM...I feel seasick. Meandering to the bathroom is a chore in itself, but the cold tiles send shockwaves through my barefeet to my brain. A piping hot shower is my only savior right now. As I go to turn the "H" knob all the way to the right I notice something. The sides of my fingernails are stained with a sticky dark red substance.
Blood!? God I hope not. Did I try to steal the karaoke mic again because I didn't like they way they were covering Bowie? No. Karaoke night is Thursday, and I am pretty sure it's Thursday morning. Then it hits me almost as hard as my current hangover. It was the leftover wings that I ravaged when I got home earlier this morning. I vaguely remember not breathing while eating them, and then not brushing when it was all over.
My shower feels great, but I need to sit down due to my current state of nausea. The water snapping on my back reminds me of how I am going to get pounded at the office today. What will be my saving grace today? Will someone pull a fire alarm? Will there be an real fire so we can all leave? Maybe they will tell me I have been working so hard lately that I should just pack it in and take the day off? That's ludicrous, but a kid's gotta dream. If the powers that be don't hate me they will give me enough courage to approach the plethora of hot women at my office today. This would be much better than staring at them with my mouth open while I hold the elevator door. Finally talking to one of the beauties would make this morning amazing considering the circumstances.
I skip the shaving part because I am late and it better suites my current state. Hop in my 15 year old Honda Accord. You know the one with the headlights that pop out of the hood. My headlights are popped and I make my way to the train station. As I begin to step out the car I look the the right and see a crumpled pack of Parliaments resting on my dirty floor. Having a smoke could devastate me even more by seriously increasing the hangover. So I grab the crusty pack and hed to the platform of the train station.
The match is lit and the smoke has begun. The first drag isn't too rough, but it can only get worse. I stare down my nose at the tiny Parliament writing on the cig and it seems to be staring right back at me. I leave about a quarter left and throw the butt onto the tracks. Now lightheaded and just all around funky feeling I stare at the burning cigarette. I am staring so intently that I don't even notice the roar of the train as it stops causing me to jump back like a complete asshole on the platform.
Of course there isn't an open seat on this hunk of shiny metal so I sit on the outside of a three seater. The window seat would have been tops, but I settle for the outside. My IPod is my only saving grace right now. The question is what do I listen too throughout this soon to be harrowing ride? I settle for Neil Young's Cowgirl in the Sand and the train starts to roll. Something else begins to roll with the train and it's my stomach. I silently vow to never drink a rum and coke again as I close my eyes to escape the situation. I try to concentrate on Neil's poetry, but even that can't sure me right now. Sweat beads are forming along my forehead so I wipe it off and glance back to see if anyone is witnessing my suffering.
My quick glance reveals two of the stellar women from my office chatting. My first thought is that they are talking about how dilapidated I look. My face is extremely pale at this point and I fear the "water under the tongue pre-vomit feeling." It's a feeling of helplessness when you reach this stage because there is no turning back. If I have to puke where should I aim? The floor? Maybe get off at the next stop and put on a show for those waiting for the train? My eyes stay closed and I fight it.
I am fighting along with the mean guitar ripping through one of Neil's masterpieces. We fight it out together. It gives me strength as the train nears my stop. I am starting to feel less nautious at this point, but I lose it for a second when have a flashback. I conjure up images of the straw of my drink not leaving my lips and my late night/early morning feast. Then I finally arrive at my stop.
I stand up to get off the train and feel better knowing that I am about to get some fresh air. Stepping off the train I stop for a minute so I can pick a perfect song as I walk to work. I pick Bowie's Life on Mars hoping to cue it perfectly so it kicks in as I reach the top of the escalator. It's little things like this that you need to start off the day right. The jam didn't quite kick in when I wanted it too but it satisfies as I start my walk.
I look around for the good looking gals from work, but they are nowhere in sight. As I am walking my nausea turns into SEVERE gas pains. The kind that doubles you over until you bust some serious ass. So the song plays,

"sailors fighting in the dance hall
oh man look at those cavemen POOOOOOOT!!!"

Wait a second that wasn't part of the song! What was that tremendous farting noise? There isn't a cloud in the sky so it can't be thunder. Has my Ipod malfunctioned? Nope...none of the above. It was me. It was all me as I was lost in song not even thinking about my surroundings. My Ipod sent me to another realm where people can't hear your music playing or your gas passing. Too bad I was the only one in this little world of mine. I then turn as red as the wings I housed last night, which caused this onslaught of agony. Should I even look back?
If it is the ridiculously good looking women from work I will have to jump in front of a bus. If anyone I hope that I farted in the direction of some Hipsters or Jimmy Buffet fans. With the way this day has been going it's most likely the women.
So I dare to look behind and see nothing. Not a person in sight. No hipsters, parrot heads, or hot chicks. Just a homeless man sitting on the ground, who has placed his "WILL WORK FOR FOOD" sign on the concrete as his shoulders shake. He can't control his laughter as he witnessed this overblown debacle. I look at him for a second, smirk and continue my journey to the office.
As I enter the office I suddenly feel better than I did five minutes ago. The nausea and gas pains have subsided. The anxiety of working hung over has left my soul. I push the up button on the elevator and of course the beauties are right behind me as the ding sounds and the door opens. I hold the door for them, but this time my mouth isn't wide open. I have a huge smile on my mug and greet them with a friendly hello.

If you think that a kiss is all in the lips...Come on..you got it all wrong

2006-03-08T09:10:00.000-05:00

With the world relentlessly mourning the death of Superman's wife an american legacy has been swept under our star spangled carpet. Artist Gordon Parks passed away, and good luck trying to find a mention of it from the national television media. A modern day renassiance man who left an imprint on virtually all artistic mediums died, Tuesday at the ripe old age of 93. We mourn a woman who without a doubt contributed something to society, but has she accomplished or given as much as Parks? Some will argue that Parks' legacy is one that is restricted to a smaller fan base, and that Dana Reeve...well was the wife of Christopher Reeve. We all felt so horrible for Reeve when he was paralyzed, and he consumed headlines then and at the time of his death. We forgot one thing. Reeve had a wonderful life before his accident. He was FUCKING SUPERMAN, but we all choke back the tears because his handsome face is now covered with tubes for breathing. He lived a life before his death that most people never even dream of. Not to take anything away from the devastation that the Reeve family has endured, but lets looks at some other american "icons." Look at Gordon Parks.

USA TODAY OBIT:

Gordon Parks, an American legend
By Jym Wilson, USA TODAY
Gordon Parks looked like an artist.
"Nothing came easy," Parks wrote in his autobiography. "I was just born with a need to explore every tool shop of my mind."
By Marsha Halper, Miami Herald via AP
With his shock of white hair, grand mustache and seemingly ever-present pipe, Parks was a 20th-century Renaissance man. He worked as a photojournalist, fashion photographer, filmmaker, composer, novelist, poet and painter. (Related story: Parks' unique American perspective)
But Parks, who died Tuesday at age 93, was best known for his compassionate yet gritty 1940s documentary photography of the lives of black Americans — first with the post-Depression Farm Services Administration and then with Life magazine. At the same time, he was shooting high fashion for Vogue magazine as a contemporary of the likes of Richard Avedon and Irving Penn.
He also was a film pioneer, becoming the first African-American to direct a film for a major studio in 1969. The Learning Tree, a drama, was based on his 1963 autobiographical novel about growing up in Kansas in the 1920s. He also wrote the script and the score.
In a considerable departure, Parks' next movie was Shaft. The 1971 hit starring Richard Roundtree as hip detective John Shaft is considered a classic of the blaxploitation genre. And it of course featured the catchy theme song by Isaac Hayes, which won an Academy Award. He made several more films, including Shaft sequel Shaft's Big Score.
In 1998, the Parks photographic retrospective Half Past Autumn was mounted and toured the country for years. In 2000, it attracted "flocks" of visitors to the California African American Museum in Los Angeles, says executive director Charmaine Jefferson. A former New York City cultural affairs commissioner and head of the Dance Theatre of Harlem, she says she spent a memorable evening with Parks listening to music he composed for a ballet.
She says he will go down as "one of the great photographers of our time" but also will be remembered for his music, his writing, his films, even his costumes. "He was so multitalented," she says. "He could do it all. And we were so proud of him."
Parks himself was always striving. In a 1998 interview with PBS' Newshour, he said: "My life to me is like sort of a disjointed dream. ... It was a constant effort, a constant feeling that I must not fail, and I still have that. ... There's another horizon out there, one more horizon that you have to make for yourself and let other people discover it."
Contributing: Maria Puente

Don't let your silly dreams...fall in between

2006-03-01T02:06:00.000-05:00

Breaking the Wedge

There is an epidemic sweeping throughout drinking establishments in America, and it has been a problem since bars only offered whiskey to scratch your drinking itch. It happens evey night no matter how many people are there or how drunk the patrons are. You will realize it when your back is turned while ordering a drink or simply standing and chatting with a friend. What is the big fuss you ask? BAR DEMONS...thats what. What is a Bar Demon?

Bar Demon\ BAR de MUN\ noun :
One who walks through a bar with no regard for those standing within a 2 foot radius. Bar Demons have the ability to cause chaos for those trying to enjoy a night out. Bar Demons usually aren't even aware that they are furiously bumping into everyone around them because they are too intoxicated to realize.

There is nothing like standing at the bar and enjoying a drink when you are suddenly struck hit and run style. Your drink is all over your jeans, and you are left looking around like someone threw a spitball at you from the back of the class. Demons have the ability to vanish after they strike. "Excuse me" is not a phrase that Demons hold in their vocabulary. They don't feel the need to be courteous, and thats why they carry the Demon moniker.
They strike at all hours of the night from all angles. They lurk in the shadows of the bathroom line and wait until there is a good crowd to crash through leaving the victims helpless. More mental than physical harm is done by these Demons, but they could care less. They creep through the thick fog and blast the innocent all night without a "Sorry", "My Bad", "My Biscuit" or "Are you OK?"

They are different types of Bar Demons racing throughout the bar circuit. Here are some of the different species:

The Special Teamer:
Usually a smaller female with frizzy hair who goes head down and pushes through the crowd. She doesn't look back nor does she look forward. Her glazy eyes stay fixated on the ground as she shuffles through. She leaves the patrons stunned as she continues to walk away after she knocks you into your friend so hard that your front teeth leave an imprint on their forehead.

The Leaner:
Usually as younger male who cannot hold his liquor or balance past 8 pm. The Leaner has been known to place all of his weight on people waving money at the bartender for attention. He is relentless with his leaning and will not stop until the person in front of him is left on the ground soiled in bar sludge. The Leaner usually finds himself bloodied and toothless in the gutter by the end of the night because of his actions. He is without a doubt the most despised demon.

The Steak:
The Steak is the most powerful demon of them all because of his physical atrributes and demeanor. He walks through the crowd like an ogre who has just ransacked a village of hut-dwellers. He knows he is sending people flying all over the bar, but is fully aware that no one will say peep to him because of his stature. The Steak is usually wearing something form fitting to let everyone know he means business. Some Steaks have been known to let their golden chains hang over the chest hair by undoing the top 3 buttons. Even if the Steaks smashes you...don't say a word to him.

With all these smoking bans being imposed throughout the States you would think they would try to ban Demons. Anyone carrying the traits of a Bar Demon should be immediatley ejected from the bar and sent to jail. No questions asked. These disturbances must stop, and we need to start writing letters to State Reps. to solve this deplorable situation. If they banned Demons people wouldn't even complain about smokey bars. They would be happy knowing they will be guarded from all Demons until the last call.

I slice up squares like sicilian

2006-02-10T05:38:00.000-05:00

The Ipod can without a doubt be noted as a major player in the evolution of modern music. You can create soundtracks to just about anything. Your walk to and from any form of public transportation. Your action sports musical montage for the gym. It can turn your car into a party and the driver and passenger into masters of the wheels of steel...err wheel of plastic. Some can't live without it, and some are too lazy to add songs to their playlist.
It's sleek design has spawned a portable electronic fashion show. Cell phones and portable music players are now parallel to certain makes of cars. If you have the Motorola RAZR cellphone you are driving a Lexus. If you still have that Speak and Spell looking Nokia, you're driving a '89 Ford Festiva. The Ipod Nano is like driving around in a brand new shiny white BMW. The old Ipod mini is like driving an '85 Benz...it used to be the hottest thing around but desperately needs a paint job. If you rock the Ipod shuffle you're riding a half decent mountain bike. Some of the gears don't click when you want them to, but it gets the job done.
Apple has released an ILife program for their pretty streamlined machines. It apparently controls anything and everything in your digital world. Pictures, music, movies,porn filing, and apparently it makes coffee if you are feeling tired from staring at the screen all day. I wonder when IGod will come out.
Apple has changed the way we move throughout this digital age, but there is double edged sword here. The Ipod is magnificant but if you can only hold under a thousand songs (like myself) the jams tend to get pretty stale. You can play out your favorite album and no longer say, "It's my favorite...I don't even skip songs." You have access to it all the time now. You are sick of it and need another fix. This cruel cycle continues and before you know it you desperately need something fresh.
You search and all the sudden find something crispy to add to your pod. It invigorates, excites, makes you even a little hot and horny for a while, but then it happens. You start listening to it, but you aren't hearing it. The beats go through your mind without stopping like a Taxi to scared to pick you up because you look like you're going to projectile vomit all over the cab. That album that you couldn't get enough off turns into an afterthought.
The sharp side of this sword that is capable of delivering a deadly blow? You are constantly searching for something new to move your soul. Music you never imagined hearing has entered your playlist because you needed a fresh start. You will discover B-sides, live cuts, never released tracks, and maybe that acoustic Neil Diamnond album. That one song you heard in that movie that made your ass shake can now be found, and you could turn out to be a huge fan of the group that originally moved your midsection. Once you have this new favorite group you will continue to add all their stuff to your Ipod, and fall into the black hole of music again.
We are expanding our musical horizons and hopefully refining our palettes a bit. This could be helping the music industry in ways we can't even fathom. With people constantly searching for something new there is going to be a demand for quality. Is the quality of music on the rise or are we just finding more diamonds in the rough because we are athirst for some new tunes? Either way someone is making a boatload of cash.

A word that needs to be used more:

deus ex machina \DAY-uhs-eks-MAH-kuh-nuh; -nah; -MAK-uh-nuh\, noun:
1. In ancient Greek and Roman drama, a god introduced by means of a crane to unravel and resolve the plot.
2. Any active agent who appears unexpectedly to solve an apparently insoluble difficulty.
In times of affluence and peace, with technology that always seems to arrive like a deus ex machina to solve any problem, it becomes easy to believe that life is perfectible.

-- Stephanie Gutmann, The Kinder, Gentler Military But we also need the possibility of cataclysm, so that, when situations seem hopeless, and beyond the power of any natural force to amend, we may still anticipate salvation from a messiah, a conquering hero, a deus ex machina, or some other agent with power to fracture the unsupportable and institute the unobtainable.

The sentence they provide is a great one but what about in our modern world of stupidity?

New age use:

I was talking to a land monster at the bar after about 15 captain and coke's when a deus ex machina entered my world and pulled me from the tightening grip of this sea creature.

All a deus ex machina is in today's world is a "wing-man"

its a bad idea, to go down to the pier by your self after dark

2006-01-31T05:29:00.000-05:00

I was half asleep the other night when one of my dreams turned into a reality. There was an NBA game blaring through my "un-flat screen" television while I was in bed. The only voice I could hear was the obnoxious mufflings of Bill Walton as he tripped through his comments about the league and of course himself. It's a give-in that every night he is on TV Walton will without a doubt mention the championships he won with the Celts and the Blazers through his inury riddled career. This fateful night the Clippers were playing the Nuggets and the other annoucer (Can't remember his name...I was half awake) mentioned a short stint that Walton had with the Clip-show. Walton then comments, "I was on three of the greatest teams in basketball history! The UCLA Bruins, Portland Trailblazers, and of course the Celtics. That Trailblazers team was the youngest team ever to win it all (This is the 3,459th time he has mentioned this...in January). But my worst experience was playing with the Clippers. I was always injured and only played in about 7 games!"
Then he drops the atom bomb:
"That was the darkest moment of my life...I'm a DISGRACE!"
COMPLETE silence was all you heard for about 30 seconds. I lept out of bed looking for my glasses to take a glance at the reaction to all those who heard this ludicrous self-loathing statement. When I finally focused I saw the befuddled Walton as he looked like he was about to put his head in his hands and mumble a DEAD jam to take himself to a happy place. The other commentators were in disbelief and nervously mentioned a meaningless play by Earl Watson. Then Walton perked up and proclaimed, "EARL WATSON! U-C-L-A LEGEND!
I then fell back into the most peaceful sleep knowing that that red haired mutant was back to his old self making outrageous statements about role players. Embrace Walton people. He will make you feel smarter and prettier than you have ever been before.

Lebron's choice to not to participate in the dunk contest in favor of the skills (or is it skillz) competition this All-Star weekend is another example of why he is so important to the NBA. Does anyone every say they are going to the bar, have some suds, and watch the skills competition? This is a competition reserved for people like Earl Boykins, and Earl Watson...Pretty much anyone named Earl. Now we have to watch to see what this man-child will do. He also has the best sitcom on television right now...the Lebrons of course.

The super flow with more jokes than Bazooka Joe

2006-01-25T06:08:00.000-05:00

I have been quite busy these days and have not been able to post as frequently as before. If I could write on this thing everyday I would, but until that day here are some things that have invaded my mind recently.

Thoughts for thought:

Internet porn has desensitized those who have never even layed eyes on it.

It is also extremely racist. Google thugs and jugs...you will see exactly what I am talking about. One site (not the illustrious Thugs and Jugs) refers to the black porn "actors" as savages who have come to destroy blonde white chicks (I can't remember the exact name of this website, but that's a good thing). They portray these women as being violated completely because their "sexual" partners are black guys. Who gets off on this stuff? Well if David Lee Roth can get his own radio show I guess there is a demographic for everything. This has to be an issue somewhere, but is it appropriate to bring to the national media? OF COURSE IT IS! People will be glued to their sets as they looked at images of these web pages with pixalated spots covering up the good stuff. It will also give Kanye something to discuss following his appearance on the cover of Rolling Stone, where he is depicted as Jesus Christ.

Hey Tom Brady said he looks at porn on the internet so that makes me feel alot better about myself. I heard his poop doesn't even smell.

Have you ever seen a baby pigeon?

76er Lee Nailon http://www.nba.com/playerfile/lee_nailon/index.html just got locked up for beating his wife...he must have been pissed about me comparing him to Carlton from the Fresh Prince. Iverson is obviously the Fresh Prince in this whole debacle. Remember in the end the Fresh Prince became an Oscar Nominee, and Carlton ended up on a sitcom with LL Cool J.

Do people take Maxim magazine seriously?

MySpace.com is going to end is a gruesome way. The amount of information people post about themselves is shocking. This is like a handbook for all the creeps out there to pick and choose their next victim. Most of the participants have pictures of themselves, and many express the fact that they are looking for love. The need to reach out to others and share your experiences is normal, but people are putting so much of themselves out there without concern.

Remember the names Kara Borden and Daniel Ludwig?

Kara's 13-year-old sister, Katelyn, told investigators her parents were shot after they argued with Ludwig for about an hour, according to court papers. Katelyn said she saw Ludwig shoot her father, and then ran into the bathroom, where she heard a second shot, presumably the one that killed her mother, court papers said. Ludwig then ran through the house calling for Kara, she told investigators. The couple's 9-year-old son ran to the neighbors, who called 911. Police late Sunday issued an arrest warrant for Ludwig on charges of criminal homicide and kidnapping. Stephanie Mannon, 16, said Ludwig and Kara had been seeing each other secretly. "Their parents didn't approve of them being together" because of the age difference, she said. "It wasn't because he was a shady character, because he wasn't." Both Ludwig and Kara maintain Web sites. Hers refers to interests in soccer, art and her Christian faith; his says he enjoys "having soft air gun wars" and claims expertise in "getting in trouble."

These teens were exchanging info and X's and O's on a website just like MySpace.

I want to see this movie are least buy the poster:
http://www.imdb.com/gallery/ss/0390463/Ss/0390463/ScifighterPsterForIMDBsmll1.jpg?path=gallery&path_key=0390463

Your raps have no gift...like a lonely christmas

2006-01-12T06:23:00.000-05:00

GOOD GOD IN HEAVEN!
http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2006/01/11/ap/strange/mainD8F290T82.shtml

This is harrowing and shall haunt all onlookers forever! That creature belongs on the Island of Dr. Moreau. The one with Marlon Brando...not the H.G. Wells book that you most likely had to read the summer before your freshman year of high school.

Check out the trailer for the upcoming Sofia Coppola film Marie Antoinette. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0422720/ New Order's Age of Consent is the soundtrack to Coppola's trailer depicting 17th century France, and it works...if you grew up watching MTV. Trailers have become music videos and music videos have become trailers. Kanye West's Jesus Walks worked so brilliantly with the trailer for Jarhead that it's emotional impact matched that of the film.
The trailer for Antoinette is reminiscent of an old Annie Lennox video where she is running around trying to avoid broken glass in an elegant evening gown. We see Marie (Kirsten Dunst) running around in her elegant gown to the dancing keyboard and brooding lyrics of Consent. The trailer isn't an exact replica of Lennox's video, but the influence is undeniable. Trailers and music videos use every ounce of their limited time to make an impact. The perfect recipe for our ADD riddled generation.
Music makes the movies and sometimes makes the trailer better than the movie. Why do you think so many people saw Dangerous Minds with Michelle Pfeiffer? http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0112792/
Everyone was bumping their heads to that ludicrous Coolio jam wondering why we were so blind to see that the ones we hurt are you and me. If you can get a song to work with about 2 minutes of footage it's like magic. The viewer is immediately affected in some way because the combination of the two moved them.
Does this make the movie and the trailer one in the same? The trailer becomes and extension of the film and sometimes it's even better than the film itself. DVD's always have the trailers in their special features, which is important because trailers are a large part of the film they depict. A good trailer can't make a movie, but a good trailer is a damn good music video.

They lost touch with their bleeding hearts

2005-12-24T04:47:00.000-05:00

When did the world of television commercials become so odd? What started this revolution of obscurity? Have you noticed they are competing for a level of randomness everytime we go to commercial break? Even Jimmy Dean's sausage ads have left us scratching our heads. They used to have the leather-faced Dean smiling and butter knifing through those delicious patties. His eyes sparking like the morning sun through his syrup bottle. He was so content with that steaming hog he was about to consume and he had our stomachs grumbling when he left the screen. What do they have now? A dude wearing a "sun suit" who shows up in the family kitchen and eats breakfast. His ray's "raise" when Jimmy Dean sausage is served, and you have to wonder about the sexual implications. It's just not the same old warming Jimmy Dean smiling back at me...it's simply randomness.
Who started the random commercial trend? It's very hard to pinpoint, but I would say that there are a few. Geico started making people swoon over a computer generated Gecko, and then they moved into the hilarious Caveman and reality show commercials. They mastered not even mentioning their product for more than 5 seconds, but pulled an audience in with their pop culture mash ups.
It's seems that Virgin mobile has taken it to a whole other level with their holiday "telethon" commerical. All those random characters such as a goat, wizard, gay elf, robot, and any other stereotype you can think of are answering phones. Nothing about the product but we are left with our chins on the floor cause we have just proclaimed, "What the FLETCH was that!"
These commercials drew inspiration from the Simpsons, who birthed the Family Guy, a show that has cornered the market on randomness. From left field is the new way to approach things. Generation Xers have seen it all before so killing us with kindness (Jimmy Dean) just isn't going to cut it anymore. We need to see something as random as the comments on an Urban Outfitters t-shirt. This trend of weirdness could shift back to the smiling old man promoting his product or things could just all become so odd that we don't even blink an eye next time. We wouldn't notice either way. Nothing ever changes and nothing is ever the same.

2005 ALBUM THAT I FORGOT TO INCLUDE ON MY PREVIOUS LIST:

DANGERDOOM
(MF Doom and Danger Mouse) www.dangerdoom.com

MF Doom might have propelled himself to the next nevel with this ludicrously infectious album, and Danger Mouse is simply a genius. This Adult Swim themed album is exactly what Swim showcases: a children's show remixed and reshaped into something that all age groups can shake their ass and minds too. MF rips through Mouse's beats like his mask is red hot, but it's the burn that feels good. Mouse's beat layering is the kind that makes you look in your rearview mirror to make sure their wasn't some ruckus happening on the road behind you. This album reminds me of OutKast's ATLiens because they are both soundtracks for intergalactic road trips.

Year of the Dragon or Tiger? NO WAY

2006 has started of great for my be the way...why? Because when I got in to work this morning the 4 foot 2 security guard came out of the bathroom shaking his head as I was walking into the office. I asked," What's wrong Reggie? He proclaimed, "I walked into the bathroom and someone left a shit floating in the toliet!" "OHH man", I relpy. He couldn't believe it. It was almost like someone left that shit in there for him be riddled with anguish after first glance. He then said, "Yeah man...not just some little terd...this shit was about as big as my ARM!" (Lifting his stubby arm into the sky) I laid down and asked for God to take me because I would have died in a state of uncontrollable laughter. There is no better sign that you are going to have a good year. This is the year of the arm lenghted poop for me...let's hope it's going to be a good one.

Come forward with whatever killed your spark

2005-12-15T06:25:00.000-05:00

Tops of 2005

Albums for listening

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah (self titled)

Talking Heads warpaint is spattered across the body of this band especially through the voice of lead singer Alec Ounsworth. Some might use this is a criticism, but Modest Mouse takes cues from the Heads and I bet you like them too.

My Morning Jacket "Z"

Outstanding voice, outstanding sound, and touches every genre of music you can imagine....even country. Don't compare them to anyone because you can't. Jim James' voice can reduce you to rubble, but there is hope there. His haunting pipes call for songs about misery but if you listen closely he isn't sad at all.

Kanye West "Late Registration"

They claim you never know what you got 'til it's GONE
I know I got it, I don't know what y'all on
I'ma open up a store for aspiring MC's
Won't sell 'em no dream, but the inspiration is free
But if they ever flip sides like Anakin
You'll sell everything includin the mannequin
They got a new bitch now you Jennifer Aniston

While listening to these lyrics in my car I immediately drove into a ditch. There is honesty in his contradictions not to mention some ludicrous beats here. I don't see Kanye's fire burning out anytime soon.

BLOC PARTY "Silent Alarm"

An electric album that doesn't step into the dreaded EMO realm, but sometimes teeters along the "jaded kid who is never going to find love" vibe. Like My Morning Jacket's album you will be deceived by the content in the songs when you listen to or read the lyrics. LUNO (off the album) will have you thinking about the friend we all have that has been lost in the shuffle.

Quote of the Year:
50 Cent has praised President Bush saying he wants to meet him.
The views contradict those of the likes of Kanye West who accused Bush of not caring about black people in the wake of Hurricane Katrina.

Fifty said:

"He's incredible... A gangster. I wanna meet George Bush, just shake his hand and tell him how much of me I see in him."

Film for viewing:

Capote

We all know what a beast Philip Seymour Hoffman is, but Clifton Collins Jr. ,as convicted murderer Perry Smith, http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0004286/ reminded me of one of the Lost Boy's from Peter Pan who strayed to far from the island. Hoffman is pretty much guaranteed an Oscar nomination for his portrayl of Capote, and will most likely win. He has been nominated for the Golden Globes' "Best Actor in a Drama" category. Collins hasn't garnered a golden globe nomination, but maybe the Oscars will look a little closer at his portrayl of a death row inmate who is painfully manipulated by Capote. The film details the lengths that Capote went through to write his classic "In Cold Blood", which was based on true events.

Collins' description of why he killed a family is eerily reminiscent of River Phoenix's description of how people perceived him when he was accused of stealing the milk money at his elementary school in the beautiful STAND BY ME. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0092005/ Phoenix's character in that film (CHRIS) talks about how he is labeled as a bad seed because of his social and familial status. He was the first one they looked to when the money was stolen from the school and they way people looked at him as a thief ripped his self confidence to shreds.

Chris: I just wish I could go someplace where nobody knows me. [He starts crying]

This is the famous quote from the film where Phoenix opens up to Wil Wheaton's character, Gordie, when all the other kids are sleeping. Collins' character, like Chris, is considered to be classed with the crumbs of society. In the film he admits that he didn't want to kill the people, while he was trying to rob them until he looked into the eyes of the father of the family.

Perry Smith: I thought that Mr. Clutter was a very nice gentleman. I thought so right up to the moment that I cut his throat.

He looked at him like he was nothing but a mere scrub...a stain who adds nothing to society.

Moments like these make movies ooze through your bones, and that moment is why films like Capote and Stand By Me will stay with the viewer for a while. If Capote is still showing near you check it out, and go rent or buy STAND BY ME.

COCK OF THE YEAR:

Matt Lienhart :http://media.collegepublisher.com/media/paper410/stills/ysp91880.jpg

Maybe the best college quarterback in the history of time. He explained in an interview that women are knocking on his door at all hours of the night. This dude could wear an eye patch, black jeans, a Cosby sweater with a turtleneck, rub a hoagie all over his body (inducing a horrible B.O. stench) and would still have no trouble with females. Without a doubt his cock is the cock of the year.

All my lovely life I've been waitin'...hot heels anticipatin'

2005-12-06T05:26:00.000-05:00

Yes the Eagles got blown to bits last night by a Seattle team that has been soaring of late. Yes Mike McMahon is oddly reminiscent of a male cheerleader when he is scampering around the field. Yes the the fans are practicing their boos when they take a shower in the morning instead of their singing skills, but did anyone see the unintentional product placement in the game last night? This product placement began when the Eagles put in a high school junior at quarterback, Koy Detmer. http://philadelphia.comcastsportsnet.com/images/content/eagles/koy.jpg
Koy has the symmetry of a basketball on top of a fridge when he walks out on the field. Does this guy need pop warner size shoulder pads? Not to mention his arms are about as thick as his fingers, and his first pass of the game last night hit the helmet of his own player causing an interception.
So as the game went on the unintentional product placement continued and it all became so clear that Koy Detmer was the model for the IRONMAN triathlon/watch symbol. Many of you might have owned one of the IRONMAN watches by Timex and we all know of the IRONMAN triathlon. Here are some examples: http://www.ironmanstore.com/irshskcap.html
http://www.ironmanstore.com/20trtee.html Note the M in the IRONMAN symbol? It looks like Koy Detmer when he has his pads on. He should be the official sponsor for IRONMAN instead of a third string QB. He would have to wear full pads if he were to do this, and could make some nice scratch after he retires as IRONMAN's mascot. Imagine Koy you could buy all the pairs of Wranglers you want if you took that job.

I haven't resorted back to my old movie poster fun, but I decided to bring out a classic.

WOW...doesn't this seem a little racist?

http://www.impawards.com/1981/carbon_copy.html

DEEP IN MY HEART - THAT'S WHERE THE KNOT COMES LOOSE.

2005-11-23T06:18:00.000-05:00

The New MJ

The Sixers aquired Forward Lee Nailon http://www.nba.com/playerfile/lee_nailon/index.html
this offseason, and he comes off the bench and does some dirty work for us when the starters are resting their pulsating lungs. He averaged a team high 14 points for the New Orleans Hornets last season so it was a good pickup, but he carries a ghost with him from last season. That would be the ghost of Philly's own Marc Jackson http://www.nba.com/playerfile/marc_jackson/index.html . Why does he carry this ghost around like Slimer driving the bus in Ghostbusters you might ask? Because he feels the need to shoot the second the fucking ball touches his hands. He is shooting 50% from the field but only averages about 13 mintues per game. This is not a bad thing, but would it decline with more minutes? Marc Jackson did it because he couldn't help it. Lee is different. He has the Carlton Banks syndrome. http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/thumb/d/de/Carlton_lg.jpg/180px-Carlton_lg.jpg
Many of you might remember the episode of the Fresh Prince when Carlton was jealous of Will because he was dominating hardwood at their Bel Air Prep school. The real reason that Will was dominating was because he was playing on Michael J Fox's team from Teen Wolf, and on 8 foot rims.
ANYWAY... back to the fateful episode when Carlton predicted the career of Lee Nailon. Bel Air prep was playing their rivals, who looked like the team from HANG TIME (a saturday morning show on NBC in the 90's that was ludicrous because they were coached by Reggie Theus and a girl was their leading scorer)http://img.epinions.com/images/opti/8a/89/kifmNetworkNBCHang_Time-resized200.jpg . The Hang Time team was a group of "John Stockons" because their shorts were revealing and they we wearing LA Gears.
The whole game Will is ball hogging and dunking on the Stockons like Pee Wee Kirkland in a prison leage game, but one person in that arena wasn't cheering. That person was Carlton. So with about 5 seconds on the clock Bel Air Prep is down by one and calls time. The play is called for Will of course. Carlton grimaces like Scottie Pippen when they told Kukoc to take the final shot.
The play begins, Will is at the top of the key with ball in hand, and low and behold it's stolen. Not by Hang Time, but by Carlton! Carlton rips the ball out of Will's hands and decides that he is going to take the final shot. Will raises his arms in astonishment as he watches what transpires. In the most unathletic fashion imaginable Carlton launches a bomb from the three point line. The ball doesn't even touch the backboard. It just bounces off the wall of the gym and dramatically falls to the floor. Uncle Phil is utterly disgusted in both of the boys as his fat head shakes above that sweater that was always hanging from his shoulders.
Lee Nailon has that Carlton look in his eye as soon as he checks in. One of these days he is going to run over to Kevin Ollie, rip the ball out of his hands and throw it against the scoreboard causing an shower of sparks to fall on the floor of the Wachovia Center. Bill Walton will be doing the game and say, "This is the SADDEST day in the NBAAAAAAA." Mo Cheeks will play Uncle Phil shaking his head in disgust as Kevin Ollie raises his arms in astonishment. I love this game.

Ms Jones sent this link:
http://www.wordpress.tokyotimes.org/?p=702

I am just a dreamer but you are just a dream

2005-11-16T06:03:00.000-05:00

"You won't see it comin' down my eye...So I gotta make the song cry"

You are like a hurricane
There's calm in your eye.
And I'm gettin' blown away
To somewhere safer
where the feeling stays.
I want to love you but
I'm getting blown away.

-Like a Hurricane by Neil Young

These are the type of lyrics that can knock you down if you aren't holding yourself up. Neil Young's beatifully haunting voice accentuates the feelings in these words when they rattle through your ear canal. Young has never been afraid to show us his vulnerability, and this song is a perfect example. All you need to hear or read is this chorus and Young's self doubt rings true. Men can be extrememly self conscious but never want to express or admit it. Of course you have groups like the Cure and Joy Division that had boys with eyeliner crying on each others shoulders, but Neil Young is more like the sad drifter. He isn't the jaded kid from the suburbs who made it as a rock star. He's a lonely cowboy who lets his songs do all the crying.
This woman he speaks of in this song is way out of his realm. He doesn't feel that he is up to par with this lady causing him to speak to her in such a tragically romantic way. He want's to love her, but she is just too much. Maybe he feels she is out of his league and that he would have trouble trusting her. Maybe she exudes confidence that he could never connect with. She has everything and he feels he has about half of what she gracefully carries.
We have all seen this woman from across the bar. Rapidly moving our eyes up to the television when she glances in our direction. Simply window shopping knowing that we can't afford the goods behind the glass.

He talks about you in his sleep

2005-11-09T06:06:00.000-05:00

The Moving Picture Show

Movies can move you just like any other art form, and there is always that one scene, quote, expression or song that will make the viewer vulnerable. Even if you don't necessarily like a film it can still be validated by that one special moment that makes your eyes well up a little. That one scene that makes you forget that there is a guy with a beret and one of those folding chairs with their names on it behind the camera. These moments are hard to pinpoint and vary from person to person, which makes them even more exhilirating. Here are some that have been dug up from my bottomless pit of a skull:

Fred Jung: Money isn't real, George. It doesn't matter. It only seems like it does.
Young George: Are you gonna tell Mom that?
Fred Jung: Yeah, that's gonna be a tricky one.

This is from BLOW, which I am not a huge fan of, but the father son relationship in this film gives me the chills every time I see it. George's allegiance to his father is unparalled and Fred Jung never harps on the fact that George makes his money off the vice's of others. Just the way he says it to young George will send shivers down to your toenails.

Frank White: How come you never came to see me?
Jump: Who wanted to see you in a cage, man?

This quote is from King Of New York, which is an extremely underrated early 90's urban crime film that without a doubt influenced Tarrantino and those who followed. Christopher Walken plays this Robin Hood of a drug dealer, who might be the coldest cat to ever be put on film. In this scene Frank's voice is filled with sincerity and anger and Jump pauses for a minute, and comes up with this sorry answer. Frank knows that Jump is selfish and this scene sets up the rest of the film and the relationship between the two.

Chas Tennenbaum: I've had a rough year Dad
Royal Tennenbaum: I know son...I know

This soul crushing quote is from The Royal Tennenbaums, and might be the most crucial line in the film. This is at the very end when everything comes together and Chas looses his shit right before this scene because his dog has just been run over by a drugged out Owen Wilson. Chas's relationship with his father is almost non existent up to this point, but when Ben Stiller delivers this line as his voice cracks...it's all over.

Jim: I can't remember what my parents look like.

This line is from Empire of the Sun, which is Spielberg's most underrated film. This movie is about a boy who is a war prisoner, but lifts the spirits of the other detainees with this undying optimism. He recites this line at a breaking point when he realizes what his life has become. He isn't going to be back home eating dinner with Mom and Dad anytime soon, and that fact hits him square in the jaw. Christian Bale does a wonderful job portraying a child's percpetion of war. (In this film it is WWII)

Jim Kurring: I lost my gun today when I left you and I'm the laughingstock of a lot of people. I wanted to tell you. I wanted you to know and it's on my mind. And it makes me look like a fool. And I feel like a fool. And you asked that we should say things - that we should say what we're thinking and not lie about things. Well, I can tell you that, this, that I lost my gun today - and I am not a good cop. And I'm looked down at. And I know that. And I'm scared that once you find that out you may not like me.

John C Reilly pretty much dominates every role that is given to him, and he puts it all together with this quote from Magnolia. He plays the role of the good cop in this movie so well that his innocence starts to inject itself into your own mind. He is the good samaritan by default and his impeccable honesty and humanity are on display in this wonderful scene.

There are many many more, and when I think of them I will post them to the 3 people who actually look at this thing.

There is no modern romance

2005-11-02T06:10:00.000-05:00

Halloween is an amazing holiday because people feel if they aren't dressed as themselves then there is no reason to act like themselves. If a study was done on how many "non-dancers" dance when they are out for halloween the number of "non-dancers" would greatly diminish. The dance floor at a bar or party on Halloween is reminiscent to the graveyard scene in the Thriller video. As soon as the music starts all the zombies get a little kick in their step. The undead start to shake and jiggle and when they hear Michael's voice and it's all over. The night has begun and you are going to stay on that dance floor, and try to get the chick who is dressed up as Tinkerbell to bob for apples with you late night. Why not dance if you are dressed like a ghoul?
If you have a costume that is original and somewhat subtle you have done the holiday some service. All the girls who wear the black cat ears on their heads...you need a new costume. Leave that costume to the 3rd grade English teacher to wear to school during the holiday season. The Hooters outfit on girls and guys needs to go as well. The mullet wig, cut off jeans, and Gwar t-shirts need to be put to rest. Why not start wearing tight BLACK jeans and one of those shirts that changes colors when you touch it. Now that is a good white trash/sweaty dude outfit. Come one people come up with something new!

Here are some Haloween suggestions for next year for you fools:

JOHN MCLANE FROM DIE HARD: all you need is a wife beater, khakis, scruffy beard and no shoes. If you really want to be creative tape a gun to your back.

SUPERMAN: Classic costume that isn't used as much as it should be. You get to wear a cape too. Too many Batmans this year.

DAVID BOWIE: Another costume that is easy...just wear ALOT of makeup...especially eyeliner. You can even wear a shirt and tie, and still pull off Bowie.

STEVE ZISSOU (or any member of team Zissou): This is what I wore this year. It's easy because all you need is blue pants and a shirt and a red skull cap. Not many people knew who I was but those who did loved it.

LAWRENCE TAYLOR: Just need a jersey and some football pants. This guy is such a character to begin with that once you tell people you are the former hooker ordering deviant you will garner instant respect. Speaking of crackheads....

TYRONE BIGGUMS: This is another easy costume. Just wear dirty smelly clothes and eat a powdered doughnut. You will look like Chapelle in no time and will be the hit of the party.

GHOSTBUSTERS: You need to put ALOT of work into this costume, but if you pull it off you are a legend.

RON BURGUNDY: Grow a moustache and wear a turtleneck and sportcoat...that simple.

NINO BROWN: Just dress in some fly 80's gear...silk shirt, double breasted sportcoat, black pants and sunglasses. You can actually get three cotumes from New Jack City. Pooky could be done if you wear and american flag button up shit and look like a crackhead. G-Money could be done just like Nino, BUT distinguish yourself with a gunshot wound. Remember Nino Brown killed his own brother. Right before he shot him he proclaims, "AM I MY BROTHERS KEEPER!" Great overacting in that scene.

There you go. Now no one will know who you are next October 31st.

Just need to admit that I want sugar in my tea

2005-10-25T06:03:00.000-04:00

The People in your Television

Question to all of you out there who loved staying home from school and watching the Price is Right. There was always a bold line between good and bad TV when you were home from school as a kid. You could flip through the channels and be stuck in the horrible foggy world of the soap opera OR you could hit an amazing rerun of a show that they just don't make anymore. For instance have you ever seen the episode of What's Happening when the Doobie Brothers made a guest appearance? ( http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0074071/ ...I hope most of you have seen this wonderful show, but I put the link just in case you are a complete clown) The Doobie Brothers are putting on a concert in the neighborhood so of course they befriend Rerun when they come to town. Honestly who wouldn't befriend the guy? He wears colorful Jeff Caps and suspenders. So Rerun, Raj, and Dwayne decide to go catch the show, which was oddly being held in something that looked like an elementary school auditorium.
The show begins and of course Rerun is practically snapping the tiles off the floor with his dance moves. The members of Doobie Brothers are even admiring Rerun as they play under their Cousin It hairstyles. The band members glance over a few times to give Rerun and smile and head nod. A "silent shout out" if you will.
Then those shot outs turn to looks of astonishment as they discover that Rerun was hiding something beneath those suspender supported trousers. As Rerun begins to do a one-footed 360 spin a clunky piece of equipment drops out of his pants. Rerun was trying to illegally record the show!!!! He wasn't being very conspicuos either. In fact the recorder he was trying to hide wasn't a little hand held tape recorder...it was a HUGE panasonic tape deck that was about as big as his left thigh. Rerun had no excuse and they band was so upset that they stopped playing. Raj with a disgusted look on his face questions Rerun: "Don't you know that this is illegal?" The innocent looking Rerun had NO idea and is shocked that everyone is so upset. Then they all decide, band as well, to listen to what he has taped so far. Turns out Rerun forgot to push the Record button and all they could hear was him eating some popcorn before the show. (Note: this was an actual episode I saw on a sick day...it wasn't the cough syrup I was taking either)
Then everyone is elated that Rerun didn't illegally record anything and the Doobie Brothers proceed with their show. Everything is well in the land of television. Rerun was ahead of his time...not just in fashion sense, but in the music piracy world as well. He could have put that show on the Net and got about a million downloads. Thank god he wasn't taping a Metallica show...Lars Ulrich would have jumped off the stage and stabbed him.
Watch this show if you have a chance. They had some of the most obscure plot lines in television history. Rerun even joined a food worshipping cult in one episode! Stay home from work/school one of these days and enjoy the television.

Download "Jolene" by the White Stripes. It is a Dolly Parton cover, and it will rip your soul to pieces.

A hundred billion bottles washed up on the shore

2005-10-18T06:34:00.000-04:00

He's the BOSS now

This past weekend I decided to travel to D.C. to see some old friends from college because it was homecoming weekend. I knew that I would run into random people and have painful conversations with them about what I am doing with my life these days. I should just make index cards with my job, living situation, and love life all mapped out so I could just hand them to the dude from my Anthropology class who I haven't seen since my last Anthropology class. Many of these annoying encounters became part of this weekend but nothing prepared me for the person I bumped into when I arrived in D.C. via train on Saturday afternoon. As I was leaving Union Staion, which is a beautiful building, I saw a sharp looking man in a red NYPD shirt. I was entering my buddy's Jeep and I noticed that this man in front of us looked wildy familiar. It was the star of The Garbage Picking Field Goal Kicking Philadelphia Phenomenon (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0142306/) who is none other than: TONY DANZA! So as soon as I notice that it is him I starting yelling in an obnoxiously stereotypical New York/Guido manner. I just constantly shout : TONY....TONNNNAAAAA.....TOOOONNNEEEEEEEE. You can imagine how it sounded. So he is about 5 feet away and I am just hanging out the window screaming at the star of Angels in the Outfield. He starts looking pretty peeved and puts his head down like he just lost the role of himself in the Who's the Boss movie to Freddie Prinze Jr. Then we literally pull up next to his car, and I am almost blue from screaming and he finally looks up and says, "WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO! WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO!" Mind you he is saying this in a stereotypical New York/Guido accent. He then proclaims, "I AM WITH MY WIFE!" Then Tony decides to send a shockwave through the District with one lewd hand gesture. He put his hand in front of his hairy midsection and gave me the jerk off hand gesture! You know the imaginary jerk off move that people do when they are talking to or see someone who they think is a complete jerk off. He just stood there made a vile face and did the"jerk off" right in broad daylight in the District of Columbia. Tony fuckin' Danza just flat out blasted me to pieces with the "jerk off" hand gesture. I could have hopped on a train and went right back to Philly and I still would have considered it an amazing weekend.

HYBRID MOMENTS

I saw another fake celebrity this weekend as well. I was sitting on a bar stool Friday night when another familiar face walked up to the bar that almost knocked me down. It was a "fake" version of the lead singer of Nickelback, which might be the most deplorable band ever.
http://news.bbc.co.uk/media/images/38103000/jpg/_38103999_nickelback300.jpg This version was much shorter and pudgier, but nonetheless HILARIOUS. So as I turn to my friend to proclaim this great find he turns to me and says, "COREY FELDMAN." More like a Burbs era Corey Feldman, but it was a great call. Being able to watching Feldman/Nickelback gag after taking shots of Jagermeister all night made my evening. So on Friday I saw a hybrid Feldman/Nicelback and on Saturday I was silently called a jerk off by Tony Danza.

Got a new bitch now you're Jennifer Aniston

2005-10-06T06:27:00.000-04:00

Flip Flops and black Nike socks...

David Stern is proposing a dress code for NBA players when they are on court, and traveling to and from arena's. I have always had respect for David Stern, but this is taking it just one drop step to far. He handled the Pacers-Pistons brawl better than I ever imagined. That was one of the saddest nights in the history of sports, and he made sure we all remembered that. Maybe that incident made him feel more like the image he was worked himself into: The High School Disciplinarian. First the age limit, and now this? The age limit doesn't bode well for me based one one simple fact. When you are 18 you are considered an adult. If you can vote and go to war then you certainly have to option of taking a chance at a lucrative life long dream that could benefit you and your family. Michelle Wie, who is a 15 year old golf prodigy has just turned pro and signed deals with Nike? Why her and not a high school basketball stud? It just doesn't make sense to me.
Now the guy is going to tell players how to dress? This reminds me of my high school (Prep School) days when I would get detention for not having my shirt tucked in. There was always the kid who forgot to bring his sport coat to class. There was always the kid who wore his Air Max's instead of his hush puppies. There was always the kid who had too much facial hair, and those guys were sent to the Dean's office to shave it off! Is David Stern the NBA version of a high school Dean of Students at a school with a dress code? He needs to relax, and revel in the fact that he got the age limit implemented. That alone is astonishing.
I can see a young Allen Iverson walking down the hall in my high school with his shirt untucked and rocking a pair of all black Jordan IV's. Then David Stern would come out of the office and hand him a JUG slip.

You've got to tolerate all those people that you hate

2005-09-30T02:13:00.000-04:00

Did you notice that everything looks like an Ipod now? That sleak streamlined design is catching on everywhere. Cars are even beginning to look like Ipods: http://abcnews.go.com/Business/wireStory?id=1172068 .
Like cell phones Ipods can be compared to luxury cars. They multiply and mutate like mogwai's after a midnight snack. Every bell and whistle is upstaged by someting like an ICEE machine in your glove box that serves atkins friendly ICEE's for drivers and passengers alike. The rapid growth of these gadgets or "bling" if you must is astounding. They have become extensions of ourselves and certainly our fashion sense. The boom of these hand held music makers is similar to the growth of the walkman. When the walkman first came out they were ridiculousy overpriced, but came in so many different syles and colors:
http://www.inmplc.com/annualreport97/images/walkman.jpg
http://www.tekniskamuseet.se/upload/Samlingar/walkman.jpg
http://molly.open.ac.uk/pictures/2004/Nov/walkman1.jpg
http://www.audiogold.co.uk/catalogue/images/BIG_Sony%20Walkman%20WM%202.JPG
The one thing about the Ipod that is striking is the fact that it is dominating the market not only because of it's capabilites, but because of it's look. Sure there are different colors and sizes, but when stripped down they are all the same. The window with that beautiful light. The rectangular frame, and the wheel...ohh the wheel. There wouldn't be a wheel if it weren't for the mouse that you are scrolling right now. It's the same concept, and the evolution of technology becomes Darwinian. Think of your ipod as an '05 SUV, and your Walkman as a Cruk...half car..half truck :http://www.angelfire.com/falcon/steph1/images/81brat.jpg . In case you were wondering that is a 1981 Subaru Brat. The concept of an SUV, but years away from perfection. It's all relative folks...pretty soon you're going to be walking down the street and not even flinch when you see this:
http://permanent.nouvelobs.com/cgi/edition/aff_photo?cle=20050327.OBS2324&offset=3
Even the ipod wannabee's look like ipods, and those with ipod wannabees usually hide their fake ipods because they are ashamed. Like when Reebok came out with the Pump everyone was rocking them to gym class, but Nike tried to get in the inflatable shoe gimmick game too. They made a shoe that you needed to pump with an actual hand held pump! The mini basketball/tennis ball pump was an appealing design like your ipod. The Nike "pump" like all the fake Ipods have a bland clunky design that people just didn't pick up on.

http://www.pickyourshoes.com/images/shoes/pump_omni_red_wheat_10.jpg --THE IPOD

http://www.soccershopusa.com/Merchant2/graphics/00000001/page_99_44_small.jpg
--- ANY OTHER MUSIC PLAYER

Apple revived the world of the portable music player, and they did it with style. Everyone has one and even though they all look the same we feel as though we are adding a flower to our lapel everytime we strut along the sidewalk with those skinny white wires that could be connected to our souls.

I got my MOJO back baby OH BEHAVE

2005-09-22T01:13:00.000-04:00

T-Bone's Lament
LOS ANGELES (Reuters) - Gator wranglers from Florida have abruptly quit their search for the city's elusive 7-foot alligator, livid that they were publicly ridiculed by a brash Hurricane Katrina evacuee that a councilwoman brought in to help nab the reptile.
Thomas "T-Bone" Quinn described as "retarded" the tactics employed by the wranglers from Orlando-based Gatorland. He made his comments on Saturday after being escorted by Councilwoman Janice Hahn to Ken Molloy Harbor Regional Park in South Los Angeles, where the gator dubbed Reggie has inhabited a lake for at least two months.
"I am not going to allow Gatorland to be referred to as 'retarded,' " Gatorland team leader Ted Williams said Monday. "I will not allow some swamp rat to walk into a situation and make comments about Gatorland and this team. We conducted ourselves in a professional manner."
Williams also accused Hahn of playing him "like a little puppet" for political purposes.
Hahn said Monday that she was surprised by Williams' reaction. Quinn, a 47-year-old Gulf Coast pipe fitter, apologized for his remarks and all of the men seemed to be getting along by Saturday night, she said.
"I thought it wouldn't hurt to have somebody else's advice," said Hahn, who praised Gatorland's efforts. "The only agenda I have is catching Reggie and I thought this was an opportunity to give this evacuee something to do."
City officials said they needed to do a background check and decide whether he could work without liability insurance. They also were worried by Quinn's graphic descriptions of how he usually stabs alligators in the brain to kill them.

WOW. Right off the bat I am not entirely shocked that the gentleman who stabs the alligators in the brain to kill them prefers to be called "T-Bone." Second...If there was a 7 foot alligator running loose in my town I wouldn't call him Reggie. I would call him..."THE FUCKING 7 FOOT ALLIGATOR THAT IS RUNNING LOOSE IN MY TOWN." Or maybe I would call him Mortimer...one or the other. Another thing that got me was the fact that the councilwoman thought sending a Katrina evacuee into a swamp to help catch an alligator was a good idea. How did she explain this to the evacuee? "Listen we know that everything you owned is now GONE...sooo we are going to send you into the swamp to help catch an alligator with good ol' T-Bone." She felt that she was giving them something to do? This world is filled with people making great decisions.

SOME BATHROOM ADVICE

The idea of the sensor flush toilet is wonderful because we don't have to touch the handle when we're all done. You do your business, stand up, put your trousers back in place, and you're good to go. No need to touch that cold metal handle that is covered with germs that were drawn out in our elementary school science textbooks. The only problem is it can work too hard sometimes.
For instance when you want to put that paper protector on the toilet seat you can run into some trouble. The sensor on the toilet becomes confused by the movement and will sometimes steal your butt nest. You gently place the sheet on the seat when you go to make the move to sit down...BAM...you paper cover is gone. You shrug it off and try to place the paper again and then FLOOOSSSSHHHHHHHHHHH. You're immediately 0-2 and a bit discouraged. This is when you get into stealth mode. You need to trick that red blinking light into thinking that no one is in the stall. Make that automatic flush not so automatic. The best move is to come in from the side. This move is much easier in the handicap stall because the amount of room in those things. Pull the paper from the dispenser and quickly move to the side...place the paper on the seat, and BOOM make the move, sit down, and you are incredbily happy.
It also helps the other bathroom patrons perception of you. You don't want them think that you are dropping such a tremendous bomb that you need to flush 3 times in a 30 second span. So all you have to do is become a bit more crafty. Remember always come in from the side.

It's a celebration BITCHES!

2005-09-15T19:08:00.000-04:00

The phenomenon that is the NFL has started, and we are all caught up in this testosterone driven soap opera. Even if you don't get involved you can't escape it. It's "Generation X's" pastime. It's the most colorful, exciting, and story driven sport in the United States. No sport is edited as well as the NFL other than FOX's playoff baseball coverage. 1/3 of the city of Philadelphia was watching the Monday Night Game last week, which is an astounding number for one of the biggest cities in the U.S.
I was watching it in a crowded bar that was serving dollar drafts. Dollar drafts can make any beer delicious, and they were especially scrumptious for some meatheads standing behind me. They were the typical fans who don't know much about the game so they compensate by screaming out obscenities when the littlest of mistakes is made. For instance Donovan McNabb took a hit because the offensive was sleeping and Donovan had no choice but to take the sack. The steakhead behind me just screams out, "DONOVAN YOU PUSSSSSYYYYYYYYY!!!!!" These creeps were screaming all night long until one of them said something that got me thinking. One of the meatsticks claims, "YO...what's the name of that football player who turned out to be a FAG!" The other porterhouses around him giggled even though I bet they only heard the word FAG. I don't remember the guy's name either, but I know he played for the Packers (no pun intended). So I am going to look at a list of NFL players who could be gay. I am going solely on the fact that they have a name that could be considered gay. Confused? Just look at some of the names that I found.

All Suspiciously Gay Name Team

KRIS MANGUM, Tight End, Carolina Panthers
MAN-GUM!....thank god this dude was on the football team and not the swimming team.

CHAD JOHNSON, WR, Bengals
One of my favorite recievers, but CHAD and JOHNSON together? Might as well be a gay porn star...or Chad Lowe.

MITCH BERGER, P, Saints
Just the name MITCH...Reminds me of MITCH CUMSTEIN from Caddyshack

LORENZO NEAL, FB, Chargers
Clears the way for one of the best RB's in the league, but just say LORENZO with a lisp. See what I mean?

TONY ROMO, QB, Cowboys
This is a stretch but ROMO rhymes with HOMO.

LeCHARLES BENTLEY, C, Saints
Put an Le in front of any name and it is going to sound gay.

ELLIOT SILVERS, T, Rams
Just sounds like the real name of a drag queen...when he is out at night in drag he is called STERLING SILVER!

DAMIEN WOODY, G, Lions
Do I need to explain?

RYAN DIEPENBROCK, LB, Bills
Any name that starts with something that sounds like DEEP IN is a lock.

CHRIS COOPER, DE, 49ers
Just because he has the same name of the actor who played the psycho secretly gay father in American Beauty.

FERNANDO BRYANT, DB, Lions
Like Lorenzo just say FERNANDO out loud with a lisp.

There you have it...the suspiciosly gay name squad 2005-06

Try to get your hands on the free CD they give out at the Gap with about 9 cover songs. Joss Stone beautifully covers God Only Knows by the Beach Boys, but don't listen to the next song because Jason Mraz just convinced Damien Marley to put out a hit on him by covering One Love by Bob Marley.

PEACE

Now she walks through her sunken dream

2005-09-07T06:13:00.000-04:00

Singer Sheryl Crow and cycling legend Lance Armstrong are engaged. The couple made the announcement on Monday following Armstrong's proposal during a visit to Sun Valley, Idaho, last week. No date has been set for the wedding, but a spokesperson for the seven-time Tour De France champion hinted the happy couple are considering exchanging vows next spring. Armstrong and Crow met in 2003 - Armstrong has three children from his first marriage but it will be Crow's first time down the aisle.

Lance Armstrong has become and American icon. He broke the Tour De France win record. He got a lot of white kids in polo's to start wearing those LIVESTRONG's. He defeated cancer. He is being "witch-hunted" by the French who are alledging that he used illegal substances to better his performance a couple years back. Bike racing would be nothing in this country if it weren't for Lance Armstrong. I know there are many of you out there with your cycling socks http://www.bikemaine.org/photos/bcm_socks.jpg pulled above your ankles shaking your heads as you read on, but there is no escaping it. Cycling and or Biking will never achieve an elite status in this country. It's monotonous and I don't know many people who have the Outdoor Life Network. It's like cross country or intramural ping pong. They have skills but can they leap over someone's head to catch a ball? That's what we want to see. The last athlete to wear tight or short shorts that we were remotely interested in was John Stockton, and he never won a championship.
My problem with Armstong here is his marrying of Sheryl Crow. His defeating cancer propelled him into superstardom. The press conference announcing his sickness could give anyone chicken-skin, and he gave people hope. He vowed to beat the cancer in front of us all, and came back to win multiple Tour De France's.
Like the rest of the country was Sheryl Crow a fan of Cycling before Lance beat the big C? Did she have the Outdoor Life Network? Did she WEAR THOSE SOCKS! http://www.geminex.com.au/x-socks/BikingSilver1.jpg . I don't think so. He defeated cancer and returned to the sport to become our "boy." We embraced him, and I am taking NOTHING away from the fact that he beat cancer, but did Ms. Crow ever look in the Sports/Cycling section in USA TODAY? So Lance Armstrong becomes even larger than life and leaves his wife. This doesn't just happen to famous people. Dudes in suits with big money are packing up their Benzinos right now as their wife cries looking at them through the window.
The woman who was by his side all night in the hospital when he was undergoing treatment. The woman who sat with the kids all night when their father was in the hospital. This woman became an afterthought due to the media onslaught. So you become a superstar and you need to be with a superstar? Not that Sheryl Crow is banging out the hits these days unless you liked her deplorable duet with the even more deplorable Kid Rock a couple years back. She is still quite a big star. Maybe if Crow didn't jump to his side right away he could have landed Zellwegger. She went out with the dirty mustached Jack White because he was an eccentric rock star with and eclectic sound. Crow wanted Armstrong because he was a superstar athlete who defied all odds.
To Lance's ex-wife...I am sorry, but it's all our faults. We love stories of the famous overcoming major obstacles. Christopher Reeve became dear to our hearts when he fell off that horse. I felt horrible for the guy too, but remember at one point in his life he was Superman. What about the 5 year old kid in the wheel chair who will never walk?

Shoot for the moon...if you miss you're still amongst the stars

2005-08-30T06:15:00.000-04:00

BERLIN (Reuters) - German police have arrested a 31-year-old man they caught vandalizing two cars by scratching large penis-shaped gouges into them and said they believe he may be responsible for similar markings found on hundreds of others.
A police spokesman in the western city of Bochum said on Friday the man was under investigation for vandalizing around 330 vehicles in the region over the last few months, most of which had also been marked with the same penis insignia.
The total damage may near 350,000 euros, he said.
"Nearly all of them had this special motif," the police spokesman said. "He said he did it because he was mentally disturbed. I don't know if that was just a pretext."
The suspect is now undergoing psychiatric treatment, he added.

German police officer: VHAT IS DEEEES? A PENEEES?
Genius who marked up cars: VHAT DO YOU MEAN? IT'S A BRATVURST!

That is exactly how German people talk...not in German, but with stereotypical German accents. Love the use of the phrase: "penis insignia."

POSTER TIZIME FOR THAT ASSSSSSSSSS!!!!

Wonder what part of this poster that they want to viewers to focus in on:
http://www.impawards.com/2005/dirty_love.html

MASTERPIECE:
http://www.impawards.com/1983/krull_ver3.html

Why can't they make movies like this anymore?
http://www.impawards.com/1983/metalstorm_ver1.html

BRONSON...WILL WHOOP YOUR CANDY ASS!!!!
http://www.impawards.com/1983/ten_to_midnight_ver2.html

Speaking of candy asses I was called one once, and it's a very underrated diss. I was driving in Philly with a friend of mine and we were closing in on a biker (bicycle not harley). I was sitting in the passenger seat and my friend told me thatI would never slap the guy in the ass as we drove by. I couldn't take the heat so as we are drving past him I am out the window and BAM! Maybe the weirdest feeling in the world. My hand ripped through the sweaty lycra biker shorts of a complete stranger. Well of course we come up to a red light and have to stop. I look in the side mirror and this biker might have had the best sad face I have ever seen. I took something from him...I stole a piece of him that day. When we stop the car this guy FLIPS THE FUCK OUT. He pulls up to the window and just starts with, "YOU FUCKING MAMA'S BOY! WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE! Then he blasted me to pieces...."GODDAMN CANDY ASS!" Just the way it rolled off his tongue destroyed me. GODAMN and CANDY ASS work so well together. Maybe it's consonance?

See the lonely boy out on the weekend

2005-08-24T17:27:00.000-04:00

I want to....

Go that place where all the boys went in the movie Pinnochio where they got real wild and smoked cigars and got liquored up. That place was amazing. If I remember correctly there was gambling involved and just utter defiance for everything and anything. That's the type of vacation I need to take. They eventually started transformed into donkeys and starting crying for their mothers.

I want you to read these lyrics from Cinnamon Girl by the Neil Young...THE Neil Young:

"Cinnamon Girl"
I wanna live with a cinnamon girl
I could be happythe rest of my life
With a cinnamon girl.
A dreamer of pictures
I run in the night
You see us together,
chasing the moonlight,
My cinnamon girl.
Ten silver saxes,
a bass with a bowT
he drummer relaxesand waits between shows
For his cinnamon girl.
A dreamer of pictures
I run in the night
You see us together,
chasing the moonlight,
My cinnamon girl.
Pa sent me money now
I'm gonna make it somehow
I need another chance
You see your baby loves to dance
Yeah...yeah...yeah.

The Rhythm the Rebel

2005-08-23T06:06:00.000-04:00

Lebron on Nascar
http://sports.espn.go.com/rpm/news/story?series=rpm&id=2135978

Nascar has decided to place the "20 year old NBA marketing icon" to adorn the hood of one of their cars. (note: Not Lebron James, Cavs Guard....Lebron the MARKETING ICON....that's how he is descibed in the above link). I too am fascinated with the way the media has handled the rise of Lebron James on all levels. He was described as having a "Babe Ruth" quality when he was coming out of high school. A very interesting comparison that I can honestly say I have never heard when not describing a baseball player. We have known him since he was in high school and some of you even paid to see his high school games on pay per view. David Stern must have pic of this kid next to his bed that he kisses before he falls asleep on his pillow that is stuffed not with cotton balls, but with hundred dollar bills. It's fascinating to see how this kid has used the media, and how they have used him. He started LebronJames.com when he was not even in the NBA yet, and he did it because we would all be there clicking away.

Why use Lebron to bring something to Nascar?

I really like the look of the race car," James said in a statement. "But I'm thinking we need to add some new rims."

This kid is going to be used up by the time he is 30 years old. Nascar is a sport that is dominated by white fans and white "athletes." Do they think this will generate a more ethnic fan base? Do they think that Lebron's popularity will lure some of his black fans to sport of Nascar? Notice that they didn't use a picture of Lebron, but rather a "comic book" version of him on the hood. They might as well put Al Jolson on the cover of the car :http://212.84.179.117/i/Al%20Jolson.jpg . Instead of Powerade they can just write MAAAAAMMMMYYYYYYY!!!!!!!.
Here is an idea : Log onto a Nascar chat room and tell them that you are a fan of Nascar. Then proceed to tell them you are black. Then proceed to tell them that the sports needs black drivers. Then prepare yourself for a shower of racial epithets. I tried this late night about four days ago. I wish I had copied and pasted it at the time, but I was blown away by how many N-bombs were dropped as I talked about black "athletes" in Nascar. One that I remember: "We don't need to n*****s taking over OUR sport!" I was even called a "moon cricket." What the fuck is a moon cricket?!
Maybe it was because it was around 4am, and I caught some cranky liquored up rednecks who were minding their meth labs. Lebron is going to be one of the faces of black culture for a LONG time, and this is only the begining of it all. What's next Lebron at the Opera? Lebron on BROADWAY? I can't wait until the remake the Fish that Saved Pittsburgh starring Lebron James in Dr. J's role. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0079154/

Another soul lost at sea while taking a cruise

2005-08-09T06:06:00.000-04:00

While reveling in a John Basedow infomercial one can come across unbelievable products that are advertised in the middle of the night. Some of them have boring names like the magic wallet http://www.magicalwallet.com/default.asp?sp=gg and others just display their marketing genius with names like THE WALLET OWL! http://www.walletowl.com/ Maybe the best cheap commercial product name since the Rascal...you all know what the Rascal is. It's similar to the bathroom monkey http://www.milkandcookies.com/links/3262/.
Just adding an animal to your product name is a recipe for success. Why do people love polo shirts with tigers, gators and horses on them? It's all about the animals. They should start making polo's with dirty city pigeons on them and they would be sprinting off the shelves. This dude would buy one :http://www.sempai.org/~felicia/wedding/pics/honey/215-cluster-of-pigeons-2.jpg
(note: I don't know that guy but good God in heaven I would like to meet him.)
Another strange and hilarious pigeon picture: http://i1.trekearth.com/photos/14079/pigeons.jpg

ANYWAY...animals sell. Why do you think Tony the Tiger has been around for so long? They never age and wrinkles don't show under fur. Who is the next animal icon? The Geico Gecko? Chester Cheetah? (I heard he has a coke problem) Tucan Sam is getting old and he needs to pass the torch to someone else. How about ELI the SLOTH? ARMEN the ARMENIAN ARMADILLO? ARTHUR the AYE AYE? In case you were wondering what and Aye Aye is:
http://1kai.dokkyomed.ac.jp/mammal/images/living/medium/29-02m.jpg
Always trust animals....always.

PEACE

I hope you find some time to drop a note...but if you don't then you don't

2005-08-02T06:02:00.000-04:00

Simpson Kicked Out of Convention
Former American football star OJ Simpson was kicked out of an Illinois convention on Saturday, after showing up unannounced and selling his autographs to fans. Simpson made the unexpected appearance at Rosemont's 26th annual National Sports Collectors Convention, and while excited fans crowded him, disgruntled organizers soon asked him to leave. But before his departure, Simpson signed 115 autographs - at $100 and $125 apiece - during his 75 minutes at the event, as well as posing for several photographs. He later signed hundreds of autographs at a nearby hotel. Dealers at the event are not allowed to have unscheduled autograph appearances. Convention director Bob Dyer says of Simpson, "The demand for his autograph was obvious based on the crowd around him, but you can't go about doing it that way. The exhibitor didn't abide by the contract." (From IMDB.com)

What a complete joke. Is this what he has resorted too? Sneaking in the back doors of autograph shows uninvited and selling his John Hancock. They failed to show the picture that he was autographing. While many were hoping it was a pic of him running through the line at USC or scoring TD's for the Bills. It was actually this : http://www.sas.upenn.edu/~sample/whodunit/oj_time.jpg
(note how much blacker they made him look on this cover...everyone is a muckraker...even TIME)
I still can't figure out what is more striking here. The fact that he had the audacity to do such a thing OR the fact that people paid good money for an autograph of someone who "might" have killed some people.

POSTER TIMMMEEEEEEE

Romanticizing war?
http://www.impawards.com/1978/go_tell_the_spartans.html

A poster with this image couldn't be released toady:
http://www.impawards.com/1978/swarm_ver3.html

Doesn't fit the movie...little toooooo sexual for the subject matter:
http://www.impawards.com/1980/caddyshack.html

Graduate rip off:
http://www.impawards.com/1981/for_your_eyes_only_ver2.html

All your dreams are over now...all your wings have fallen down

2005-07-31T09:21:00.000-04:00

Anthropology is the ANSWER!

Cultural tings dat get me motor running:

"I know your heart can't grieve
What you eyes won't see
But you were my favorite moment
of this dead century"

Those are lyrics from TV on the Radio's DREAMS off the Desperate Youth and Bloodthirsty Babes album. http://i.a.cnn.net/cnn/2004/SHOWBIZ/Music/10/18/tv.on.the.radio/story.tvor.jpg .

I drove my Sable off the Ben Franklin Bridge and went crashing into the water when these words hit my spine. As my new submarine floated past bloated mafioso with cinderblocks for sneakers the music grew louder. Lead singer, Tunde Adebimpe, has a voice that idiots like to compate to Peter Gabriel, but he surpasses the Sledgehammer singer on all levels. I first heard this album at a music store just after it was released and bought it after hearing about a third of the first song. When I brought it home I didn't even play it because I had to wait for the right time, and that time was about 330 AM when I am driving into the city work. As soon as I pushed the sideways triangle I saw something. I saw a horizontal bolt of lighting simmering through downtown Philly crackling and sizzling as it turned corners around office buildings. The sleeping city was never more awake. The sound that was seeping out of this lighting bolt was TV on the Radio. One of the biggest cities in America was surviving simply by the hum of the street lights until I opened my windows. Adebimpe's lonely voice sits in the pit of your stomach as you try to figure out how this new sound came about. Did these cats find a time machine and steal their beats from the future? They must have traveled to a "Blade Runner" type future and found this sound. This mechanically beautiful sound that is peppered with every style of music one could imagine. There is absolutely no one to compare them too...honestly. Maybe some experimentalists, but they are merely picking sounds out of a hat and hoping the pieces will make your lobes wiggle. TV on the Radio takes those pieces and builds a spaceship like Ethan Hawke and River Phoenix did in the Explorers. http://www.impawards.com/1985/explorers.html .

Everyone gets sucked into Cribs when it is seemingly on a contious loop on MTV. David Banner, who is a Mississippi rapper, is in one of the latest editions. I am not a huge fan of his music, but I am just a huge fan of his personality. This dude never wipes that huge smile off his face and seems to be truly thankful for what he has. A couple of words from his BIO:

Who would have guessed that a troubled yet energetic kid from Jackson, Mississippi would single-handedly carry a depressed state known as the epitome of Southern racism and poverty into a respected source of hip hop music? http://www.david-banner.com/main.html

On his Cribs episode he shows us all the shiny shit that is draped throughout his mansion. Then we go out back to his man made lake. If I was loaded I would without a doubt build a lake at my place. ANYWAY...he then throws some pellets into the water and about 50 catfish come out of the water to eat and greet Mr. Banner. He then says in his southern drawl, "See this right here...this is God man." Those word hit me. It's not even about religion. It's about the appreciation of life. This dude is on his way to superstardom in the rap community, but once he sees those catfish lurking above the water his world stops and he just breathes. You have to appreciate that.

Oh and another thing. I am uttetrly disgusted by pigeons, AND I have never seen a baby pigeon. Maybe they just grow out of the sidewalk like weeds.

PEACE!!!!!

The weak become heroes and the stars align

2005-07-26T06:01:00.000-04:00

Canadian lab to test "sasquatch" hair
Mon Jul 25, 6:47 PM ET
VANCOUVER, British Columbia (Reuters) - The debate over the existence of sasquatch, aka Bigfoot, an ape-like creature said to haunt the wilderness of western Canada has entered the world of modern DNA testing.
A laboratory will test hair samples that several residents of Teslin, Yukon, say were left when the large, but so-far mythological creature made a late-night run through their community in early July.
The legend of a large, hairy, two-legged creature lurking in the mountains of western Canada and the United States dates back to before Europeans settled the continent. This was the second report of the creature near Teslin in just over a year.
In the latest sighting, a group of Teslin residents told the Canadian Broadcasting Corp. they heard branches cracking and saw a large human-like creature run by a house. It left behind large footprints, they said, and the hair tufts that were given to wildlife officials.

Thank you so much for this. Possible suspects when the results come in?

http://www.sperts.net/articles/images/041020damon.jpg

http://www.detnews.com/pix/2005/03/08/feat/fe08-robinwilliams-0305n_03-08-2005_EB4N7NE.jpg

http://www.boxofficeprophets.com/news/images/zombie.jpg

http://207.44.220.101/images/profile/photo/04/brewer_j_ind.jpg

http://www.saturos.net/under/underpics/Tex_up.jpg

While vacationing in the Poconos as a youngin' I was traveling through the woods, and stumbled over a rock. This rock ended up being a "mini-cliff" and I dropped about six feet onto some sticks and possbile deer poop. The kind that looks like turkey giblets. (I googled mini-cliff and couldnt find any pics...so bare with me) I was beat up pretty bad and began to cry as I ran back to the house that my family and their friends were staying at. People who were sitting on the deck saw me sauntering out of the woods with the tears running down my face. They immediatley started asking if I was ok, and I grew embarrased because people besides my immediate family saw me at my weakest. So I did what kids who are embarrased about something do best : LIE THROUGH YOUR TEETH.
I told everyone that I thought I saw bigfoot running through the woods and was so scared that I started running like a wild man. I explained that I was running so fast that I had fallen off a "cliff" and never looked back to see the beast. The memory is vivid, but I wish I could remember people's faces when I was trying to explain this ludicrous sasquatch sighting. I was expecting the guy who narrates Unsolved Mysteries to come out of the closet and start telling my story to all the adults. It's amazing what you will say when you are desperate. I actually wanted people to believe that I saw this hairy figure running through the forest looking for a nice tree to scratch his back on.
What kind of music would the sasquatch listen to? He was using a Walkman when I spotted him by the way. For some reason I imagine him running throug the woods rocking out the Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash. I also see him breaking the sticks under his feet to Mirror In the Bathroom by English Beat. If you were a hairy animal like the wolf babies on Sally Jessy Raphael...or just a Yeti...what would you listen too?

Dry your eyes mate

2005-07-24T10:19:00.000-04:00

Michael Bay and DJ Premier are like cornbread

I recently sat through the Island, which is the new clone/sci-fi/action/huge advertisement from fragmentalist Michael Bay. http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000881/ Bay is constantly criticized for his over the top action and dizzying camerawork. His films are riddled with close ups and he doesn't have the ability to hold a scene for more than 30 seconds. He started off as a music video director, and this is quite obvious when you view his films. They feel like a 2 and a half hour rock/action opera, and the viewer is exhausted by the end. Take for instance the RIDICULOUSLY over the top Bad Boys II. Bay is outspoken when it comes to critics and has stated that he made this film as a big "fuck you" to all of those who shit on his style. He said he knew it would make 100 million no matter how overblown the whole thing was.
He took the style of Miami Vice, but updated it to today's standards. Every scene is overdone. The slow-mo shots...the sun constantly setting over the skyline...cars without blemishes...car chases that run for so long you end up looking into space. You never have to say to yourself "This is only a movie" Why? Because he makes movies.
Wes Anderson paints beautiful pictures of the lonely human spirit. Richard Linklater captures the essence of generations. Scorcesse ruins your mind with technicality. Michael Bay simply makes popcorn cinema, and it's a genre that is often disrespected. I am in no WAY comparing him the directors I mentioned above, but I think the Bay deserves some respect. He has a style that will always be noted. Compare it to hearing a beat by DJ Premier or the Neptunes. You loved them at first...you couldnt get their infectious sounds out of your head, but after a while the allure was lost. You knew it was a Premier beat when you heard the new song, but it didn't hit like it did for those couple of months before when you couldn't stop listening. When you heard the latest Neptunes beat you felt like you had heard it before, but it was just reworked for the latest rap act. Same goes for Michael Bay.
When the Rock came out viewers and critics were pleased. Even if you don't like action movies you have the respect the time that was put into filming that car chase in San Francisco in the beginning of the movie. It was nominated for a Best Sound Oscar, which is Hollywood's way of saying that we really liked the movie, but it would never EVER garner enough respect for one of the more serious nominations.
When Armageddon came out we were like OK...this is what this dude does. This is his thing, and he is sticking to it. I think the movie is LUDICROUS, but so does he, and he was hoping you would too. It was like that recycled Premier beat when you heard it 2 years later. You knew it was DJ Premier, you could hear the jazz influence, but it just wasn't the same. You didn't lose that initial respect though. You didn't forget that first time your ears thanked you all night long. Same goes for Mr. Bay here. You need to respect his style...he will continue to do it, and you will remember that first time you witnessed it. If you forget where you come from...you're never going to make it where you're going.

Does this dude look like her cares?:
http://www.imdb.com/gallery/granitz/2031/Events/2031/MichaelBay_Grani_1271171_400.jpg?path=pgallery&path_key=Bay,%20Michael

I will be your accident if you will be my ambulance

2005-07-19T06:24:00.000-04:00

If you are driving around in your car and feel like crying listen to Lay Lady Lay by Bob Dylan. It sounds like an OLD country western song, but doesn't sound anything like Toby Keith. You can imagine the crusty Dylan slowly riding his horse through a town of tumbleweeds strumming his guitar as he cries out this song:

Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed
Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed
Whatever colors you have in your mind
I'll show them to you and you'll see them shine
Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed
Stay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile
Until the break of day, let me see you make him smile
His clothes are dirty but his hands are clean
And you're the best thing that he's ever seen
Stay, lady, stay, stay with your man awhile
Why wait any longer for the world to begin
You can have your cake and eat it too
Why wait any longer for the one you love
When he's standing in front of you
Lay, lady, lay, lay across my big brass bed
Stay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still ahead
I long to see you in the morning light
I long to reach for you in the night
Stay, lady, stay, stay while the night is still

Just a great song that envokes emotion when you have that long car ride all alone on the New Jersey Turnpike. Music while you are driving alone is like therapy. If you are a secret fan of "Forever in Blue Jeans" by Neil Diamond you can just blast the hell out of it while that SUV cruising next to you is wondering why you are wearing a sequined sportcoat as you trudge along the highway. I worked construction the summer before my freshman year of college, and by the end of the day I was dirty and miserable until I stepped into my teal Cavalier. If you are wondering what kind of car this is just drive by a convent. For some reason this is a poplular vehicle among the Nun community.

ANYWAY when I dusted off my steel toes and took that seashell of a hardhat off I would pop in one of the best tapes EVER : "Bill Withers Greatest Hits". I would immdeiately start blasting Lovely Day, and I would forget about everything. I would forget sweeping. I would forget about eating a dust covered peanut butter sandwich and the dirt that would transfer from my mouth onto the soggy cartons of Iced Tea that I used to demolish. I would forget about my JOB, and that was the most important thing to me at that point in my life. This was a beautiful time for me, and it was all because of a beautiful song. I still don't have a car with a CD player, and I still have this tape. It still gets plenty of burn but it's never the same as it was that summer.

You're staring at the sun...You're staring at the sea...your body's over me

2005-07-14T10:46:00.000-04:00

WEST HARTFORD, Conn. - An expert in eating disorders collapsed in a supermarket after inhaling propellant from whipped cream cans, according to police. Lisa G. Berzins, a prominent psychologist who has been on national television and radio shows and in newspaper articles, was arrested on a warrant Friday charging her in the May 29 incident, The Hartford Courant reported. Berzins, 49, has a practice in West Hartford. She has written and lectured on eating disorders, female development, sex roles and self-esteem, according a speaker's biography from the American Psychological Association. According to the arrest warrant affidavit, West Hartford police responded to the Farmington Avenue Stop & Shop and found Berzins lying on the floor and bleeding from her head. Berzins, the affidavit says, told police she did not know what happened. Police interviewed witnesses and collected evidence, then determined that Berzins apparently inhaled from three cans of whipped cream containing nitrous oxide, known as laughing gas, the affidavit says. (From Yahoo.com)

Yes this is a bizarre occurence, but it makes complete sense. This woman is a psychologist who deals with patients with severe self esteem issues. Of course it's sounds horrible when you see it in print. The headline practically reads: Prominent Psychologist does Whippets in Public and PAYS for it! Yes this act is totally uncalled for, and she is being punished for her actions through the media's coverage. Anyone who deals with people with issues such as these needs to have experienced in same way or form in their own life. Maybe she had an eating disorder at one point. The point is is that someone who deals with self esteem issues must have some of their own in order to help those with the same inadequicies. This woman obviously still has some problems if she is huffing Reddi-Whip at convenience stores, passing out and splitting hear head open. She has some of her own demons lurking in the shadows making it easier to see her patient's demons. It goes along the lines with a cop being able to indentify certain things that only someone who has experienced them can do so. A cop who used to use certain drugs and knows the process of obtaining them is going to be much better than a cop with a clean slate. An alcoholic is always an alcoholic. An addict is always an addict. This psychologist is successful because she still has that larceny in her. She knows how the mind of someone with no self control works because she struggles with self control too. I would rather someone with their own self esteem issues to help me with mine. Someone needs to fade out of the blue and into the black to help themselves back into that blue again. (Thanks Neil Young).

POSTER TIME!!!!! It's BACKKKKKKK

If your movie has Luke Perry in it you need to blur his face:
http://www.impawards.com/1994/eight_seconds.html

Should read: I love cocaine:
http://www.impawards.com/1994/i_love_trouble.html

Doesn't look like there is much JOY:
http://www.impawards.com/1992/city_of_joy_ver2.html

PPPPPPPEEEEEACCCCCCEEEEEEEEEEE

What de hell

2005-07-13T14:31:00.000-04:00

I am trying to publish some nonsencical bullshit and it wont let me

When you get what you want but not what you need

2005-07-10T04:15:00.000-04:00

Digital Trapeziod Map

AHHHH the movies. I will always be in line for afternoon show of the new blockbuster the day they come out. It's an escape of sorts especially when absolutely no thought has to go into what is being flashed before your eyes. Sometimes I am by myself and other times I go with my buddy who we will call Mikey Pooch. Mikey Pooch is always down to see something shitty at 2 o'clock on a Tuesday afternoon because he hates his job more than you. As you all know the idea well is quite dry these days for the movie studios i.e. :Bewitched...THE MOVIE! Fat Albert...THE MOVIE! Dukes of Hazard...THE MOVIE. Family Matters...the MOVIE! That last one is not real but it will be someday. I know that all media is derived or evolved somehow from other mediums, but have we gotten this lazy? I saw we and not them because we all feed into this stuff believe it or not. Even though we are not racing out to see all of it we still embrace it. Example: All of these new age horror films filled with creepy kids and digitial effects, a have all been done in asian film world. The Ring, Grudge, Dark Water...they have all been made before along with a bunch of other new age horror shit films. The funny thing is....we all fucking know it. These asian imports can be bought just about anywhere. They even have them next to their remakes at the store so you can buy the original and the rip-off/remake. Some of it might part of the recent boom in DVD sales. They are flying off the shelves everywhere so the stuidos are just pumping shit out there. They are making more than the box office and their sales have like tripled in the past year. SOOOO maybe that's why all this shit is being thrown into my freckled face.
ANYWAY...I appreciate the "digital age" of film. I am disgusted though by the overuse of it all. Characters that are completely digitally rendered can take alot from a movie, but they will never stop making them in fact they will one day make this movie....THE SITCOMS.

In the year 2015 they are going to release a film where all the characters are computer generated images. Kind of like SImone in that Al Pacino movie titled SImone http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0258153/ that you and I never saw. The technology will be so advanced in the next ten years that we won't be able to tell the real from the fake, which is scary when you think about it. So they are going to make a movie about all former sitcom characters living in the same neighborhood, but all of these characters are going to be digital because quite simply Rudy just doesn't look the same. So the Cosby's will live next door to the Fresh Prince of Bel Air. Theo and the Fresh Prince will continue to rag on Carlton, who will become friends with Elvin. http://www.imdb.com/gallery/mptv/1367/Mptv/1367/10894_0076.jpg?path=pgallery&path_key=Owens,%20Geoffrey (the dude in the upper right corner) Seinfeld will trade saracastic quips with Alex P. Keaton. Ben from growing Pains will compete with Kramer for attention. And the the witch from Bewitched will race the Flying Nun on a daily basis to impress the Bosom Buddies. Hopefully Urkel will have sex, but not with Laura. He will bone the robot chick from Small Wonder. Will he use his own robot Urkel that we were introduced to in like the 4th season?
They are going to be so "idealess" in the next ten years that this 300 million dollar picture will take 2 years to make and will be released around christmas time because that is a good time for shit like this. And movies are made like this cause creeps like me take time to think about it. I will be in linefor the 3:15 show when the time comes.

I'll be a mom and poppa coming for you

2005-07-06T09:08:00.000-04:00

There is an inviting sign on the lone urinal in my office. It reads: "IF YOU USE THIS TOILET IT MAY OVERFLOW." Why give us a choice? Is this some type of candid camera trick to get someone to roll the dice, use the urinal, and get BLASTED by a stream of derrrty water? A DO NOT USE sign would be plenty efficient. The interesting thing is that I actually took a minute to ponder whether I should use the urinal or not. The feeling of accomplishment that I would get from rolling the dice and not getting blasted could enstill and extrememe amount of confidence in me. I could use this new power to actually speak to a female while I am out galavanting. My horrendous move of going up to a girl who is smoking and asking for a light is failing MISERABLY. I go ask for the light...usually fuck up trying to get the thing even started, and the proceed to nod (a thank you nod) with the smoke in my mouth. This ignites a rush of water flowing from my bloodshot eyes cause the smoke is eating my eyeballs. I find myself doing this all the time when I smoke cigs. Especially when I drive. Amateur smokers can you feel me? I leave it in the mouth when I talk to people and then start making the ugliest squinting face you can imagine. I look just like this guy: http://www.kvbombers.com/Bob%20Brown%20squinting.JPG . God I am FUCKING smooth.

Some of you have seen War of the Worlds and there is something that is very odd at one point in this film. Cruise gets sucked into an ASSHOLE like contraption in the bottom of the alien spaceship. The scene was so sexual and I am not exactly sure why Spielberg put in in the film. I understand he was going for the whole organic material crossed with man made material for his spaceships, but this was blatant. Tom Cruise got eaten by a giant alien asshole and made an explosion inside of it. Say that last sentence to anyone who asks you what you thought of War of the Worlds. It's a completely true statement, and sums it all up to a T.

Picture blood baths in elevator shafts

2005-06-29T07:40:00.000-04:00

Peeping Tom Pulled From Outhouse Tank
Tue Jun 28, 6:38 PM ET
ALBANY, N.H. - A 45-year-old man was arrested after a teenage girl found him staring at her from below an outhouse seat, police said. Police said they pulled Gary Moody, from Gardiner, Maine, from the waste tank under a log cabin outhouse on Monday.
"We had to decontaminate him," said Capt. Jon Hebert of the Carroll County Sheriff's Department, adding that firefighters hosed the man down before police handcuffed him. "We treated him as if he were hazardous material," Hebert said.
Moody was charged with criminal trespass. Hebert said he could face more charges.
Moody was freed on bail for a July 19 appearance in Northern Carroll County District Court in North Conway.

That's what perverts are reduced to if they live in Maine. There is no internet in Maine so they have to get pooped on to get a quality ass shot. I still am having trouble picturing this. Imagine sitting down to drop some heat and there is some creep smiling up at you! How do you raise someone who spends their time hiding in outhouses?

NBA DRAFT

Andrew Bogut was the number one pick in the draft last night, and I truly don't think this guy will be superstar, and I will tell you why. When the players are selected they post some fun facts about them while Stuart Scott sits to talk with the new NBAers. How does Stuart Scott's assholeness increase every second he speaks? ANYWAY, Bogut's favorite food was listed as SOUP. SOUP...could you be more stale? At least throw a chicken noodle in front of that! Might as well listed your favorite food as Carbohydrates or Meat. He is never going to reach that superstar status because of his horrible favorite food choice. On the other hand Charlie Villanueva listed his favorite food as "weed brownies."

You thinkin' lobster?..HAH... I'm thinkin' burger kang

2005-06-28T06:23:00.000-04:00

Morgan Free-help

In the last movie is saw, Batman Begins, Morgan Freeman is the all knowing gadget guy who supplies Bruce Wayne with all of his toys for fighting crime. Morgan Freeman seems to always land roles like this. The all knowing wise black man who helps out his white co-star. We are supposed to feel like Morgan has been through it all and he wears it on his face, but his hardships are outshined by that smile. He always knows the lowdown, but is always the secondary character. It's always Morgan and a white actor, and that actor is usually in need of some elderly help, which Morgan always offers. The last movie I remember seeing him in in the movie theaters was Robin Hood. He was the only black character in a movie with an all white cast, and he played his usual role. This is something that has perplexed me for years, and will always baffle me. Here is a rundown of his movies and his "white in need of help co-star." I am sure you can think of a couple ever before checking out this list...it's like the Kevin Bacon game, but you don't have to poisin your mind with thoughts of Kevin Bacon.

Driving Miss Daisy: DO I EVEN NEED TO EXPLAIN!
Glory: Plays slave who fights in Civil War to help the beautifully moustached Matthew Broderick
Robin Hood: Performance will never outshadow unecessary Costner ass shot
The Power Of one: Plays a prisoner who is mentor to a positive thinking young white man
Unforgiven: Helps out Clint Eastwood
Shawshank Redemption: Shows white Tim Robbins how to get busy living
SEVEN: Don't look in the box white rookie cop Brad Pitt...I know...I am Morgan Freeman
Chain Reaction: Helps out Keanu Reeves, but performance is overshadowed by how akward Keanu looks when he runs
Kiss the Girls: The all knowing black man to Kentucky alum Ashley Judd
Amistad: I never saw this but I think he plays a slave
Nurse Betty: Helps out the PASTY white Renne Zellwegger
Along Came a Spider: Helps Monica Potter..Cage's hot wife in Con Air..solve a crime
High Crimes: Same formula as Kiss the Girls..Ashley Judd + all knowing Morgan Freeman
Bruce Almighty: Plays God who offers his powers to Jim Carrey
Million Dollar Baby: The black trainer, who appears in almost all boxing films
See how it all goes down? Morgan Freeman is always second fiddle to a know it all white character. He esentially plays the same role in every movie. Freeman is a great actor, but I can't get over the fact that he has been the same guy in almost all of his films.

LOVE THE NBA DRAFT:

Draft Sleepers:
Sean May
Roko Ukic
Ryan Gomes
Nate Robinson
Ronny Turiaf
Julius Hodge
Wayne Simien

Draft Creepers:
Antoine Wright
Hakim Warrick
Chris Taft
Matt Walsh
Danny Granger

I want to see you in real life...So you can feel me like a steel knife

2005-06-22T11:30:00.000-04:00

I recently read that Sharon Stone and Madonna were competing for the role of Ginger in Casino. Could Madonna have done this role any better? Stone nailed that part, and she even garnered a deserved Oscar nomination. It's hard to say if Madonna would have been as affective as Stone was. Not that she was drug crazed at one point in her life, but she truly captured a wild lifestyle that was presented to the world. Madonna was the poster slut of the 80's before she became British. (Go to ifilm.com to see Madonna bitch out some journalists because the room in which they were interviewing her in was TOO HOT...its horrible) If she was cast as Ginger it would have been distracting. Not that Madonna was a hooker/heroin addict at one point, but she didn't stray to far from that image. She could have pulled it off, but we would have felt like we were looking at a Rolling Stone cover shoot from '86. Nonetheless the movie has one of the greatest white pimp names in film history: LESTER DIAMOND. James Woods plays Diamond and he too dominates the role. Not that I expected the great cast from this movie to do a horrible job, but as a whole everyone really never let up. Scorcesse brings out the best in everyone, and do you even question why?
Although I think that Gangs of New York was a disaster. Dicaprio traveled in and out of his accent and I just didn't like Daniel Day Lewis as Bill the Butcher. The character was entertaining, but he was over the top. He seemed like a villian from a movie that was more fantastical. I could have seen him as a villian from an Indiana Jones film or even a James Bond villian. Maybe that's what Scorcesse was going for, but the supporting cast couldn't keep up with him. Did you know that Scorcesse directed the Michael Jackson video for BAD? YOU AIN"T BAD YOU AIN'T NOTHIN!

Best Friends Become Strangers

2005-06-20T08:32:00.000-04:00

Tom Cruise Gets a Facial

Recently two big time celebrites have been attacked in some form. Leonardo DiCaprio was attacked with a beer bottle while leaving a club at 4 am. He apparently needed twelve stitches and the attacker missed an artery near his ear that could have been life threatening. It turns out the attacker was a retarted person who disgusted with his portrayal of Arnie the retarted boy in What's Eating Glibert Grape. The attacker said she was sick of hearing "DAD'S DEAD! and THE WATER TOWER GILBERT!" The attacker has now sold her rights to Lifetime to make a TV movie about the incident starring Eric Roberts as Dicaprio and Marlee Matlin as the retarted person.

Tom Cruise was part of one of the greatest moments in entertainment history yesterday. A fake reporter (who is now a genius) started asking him questions and water shot out of his microphone blasting Cruise in the face. Cruise showed that million dollar Cocktail smile for a second and then got all Born on the Fourth of July on us. He started saying in a horribly weak voice, "WHY DID YOU DO THAT? and then ripped the guy to pieces stating, "You're a Jerk...you know that...a real jerk!" Katie Holmes wasn't paying attention at the time because she was looking into the sky for the aliens she now worships as a scientology convert. Will the demise of Tom Cruise be one of the biggest burnouts of all time? Will he ever recover from his recent ridiculous actions? People are starting the hate the man they all once loved and looked up to. Pretty soon he is going to be on a USA series with Hulk Hogan and Chuck Norris fighting crime on a ski slope.

I think celebrity hate is reaching a new level. We are all tired of them. Everyone is has a reality show and Pop Culture is the topic on most new cable television shows. ENOUGH ALREADY...watch the Discovery Channel. Why do you think the box office is slumping so bad? Sean Penn needs to shut the fuck up too.

PEACE

Out of the blue and into the black

2005-06-14T06:04:00.000-04:00

More proof that Cruise is a complete joke:

Cruise Tripped Up by Magazine Over Scientology Claims
Tom Cruise's beliefs in Scientology are based on misinformation, according to US showbiz magazine Entertainment Weekly - after editors checked facts from a recent interview with the movie star. Just weeks after accusing Brooke Shields of being "misinformed" after she championed anti-depressants for helping her deal with post-partum depression, Cruise made a couple of sweeping statements to Entertainment Weekly reporter Benjamin Svetkey. The writer chose to check Cruise's comments and found out he wasn't accurate. Supporting Scientology claims that psychiatry is "a Nazi science", Cruise stated, "Jung (Carl Jung, the father of modern psychiatry) was an editor for the Nazi papers during World War Two," which the magazine's researchers discovered is untrue, according to the New York Center For Jungian Studies. The movie star continued, "Look at the experimentation the Nazis did with electric shock and drugging. Look at the drug methadone. That was originally called Adolophine. It was named after Adolf Hitler." The magazine also questions Cruise on this point, explaining, "According to the Dictionary Of Drugs And Medications... this is an urban legend." (FROM IMDB.COM)

Fantastic Four might be the worst movie of the summer. Comic book movies are hot right now, and some of them have been done in the right way, but this isn't going to cut it. I thought X-Men was going to to horrible after seeing the previews, but it turned out to be a good film. X-Men 2 was even better because we were done with the usual introduction of the characters. That's what Fantastic Four is going to be. The origin of the characters and them getting adjusted to their new personas. That isn't enough for this movie to be successful. The Fantastic Four aren't nearly as popular as the X-Men are these days, and the characters are just corny. Who would you rather have on your side? Wolverine fucking shit up with his claws or some dude who can stretch his arms really long to reach high stuff in the cupboard? I picked the stretchy guy too.

I will be dressed up like this when I go see this movie :http://www.anniescostumes.com/dis5248.jpg
This guy is pretty sweet too:http://www.anniescostumes.com/5787.jpg

There was a live action Fantastic Four film made in 1994 that was sooo bad that it never left the shelf. The Comic Book guy from the Simpson is probably the only person who owns a copy but I found some pictures of this horrible mess: (Scroll down to the bottom)
http://www.moviecompound.com/reviews/movies.php?ReviewID=16

Hyrbid Moments by the Misfits is a sick song

POSTER TIME!!!!!!

Who the Hawks will most likely draft this year:
http://www.impawards.com/1997/air_bud.html

This is a Boogie Nights (one of my faves) poster from another planet I think:
http://www.impawards.com/1997/boogie_nights_ver6.html

My mind is my worst enemy

2005-06-12T08:50:00.000-04:00

Neil Young might be the greatest songwriter of all time. I don't celebrate his whole catalogue. I don't own any bootlegs. I just have a couple of songs, but this guy is undeniable. His chilling voice makes my bones tremble. Never has there been such humanity in someone's voice. He is an absolute beast. Harvest is an album that you don't need to swtich any tracks on, and OUT ON THE WEEKEND was my theme music when I got out of college. He knows that the deal is...I can't explain...he just does. And remember...only love can break your heart.

POSTER TIME!!!!!

Display of Brendan Fraser's limits as an actor:
http://www.impawards.com/1992/encino_man.html

What was Nipsy Russel thinking?
http://www.impawards.com/1994/car_fifty_four_where_are_you.html

I think he has already gotten even with all of us after this movie:
http://www.impawards.com/1994/getting_even_with_dad.html

PEACE

There's only one beer left...and rappers will scream in our ears like we're deaf

2005-06-08T06:33:00.000-04:00

I went to see Lords of Dogtown yesterday because I enjoyed the documentary Dogtown and the Z-Boys, which is what this film is based on. If you haven't seen the documentary check it out even if you aren't a fan of skateboarding because it's a great character study. In the film these skaters come off as a biker gang reaking havoc wherever they go led by surf shop owner, Skip, who is played by Heath Ledger. Ledger's performance might be the biggest rip-off in movie history. Have you ever seen a Val Kilmer film? If so, then combine all his roles when he plays a fuck up and you have Heath Ledger. His mannerisms as well as his voice were exact replica's of Kilmer's. I am not even a big Kilmer fan and I was disgusted. Here is a pic of the ripoff: http://images.countingdown.com/images/countdowns/movies/3361895/3361895_main.jpg (My two favorite Val Kilmer films: TOP SECRET and REAL GENIUS...just thought I would mention that)
Not only was this performance distracting but Johhny Knoxville shows up with a blonde Snoop Dogg wig on and pimp gear at one point. They don't exactly explain what he does, but he represents one of the skaters as he becomes a superstar. I couldn't tell if his character was supposed to be a joke or not. Knoxville is just that bad.
This movie could have been pretty intriguing if it weren't for these two characters spreading stupidity all over the screen. Despite these two clowns Emile Hirsch did an awesome job portraying skater Jay Adams. http://i.ivillage.com/E/rd/E_Showbiz_Emile_250.jpg
They could have made the film solely about him, and it would have been ten times more watchable. Don't see it in the theaters just rent the DVD and skip past the parts with Knoxville and Ledger. That might reduce the film to about 25 minutes, but it's worth it.

PEACE

Take COVER...HIT the dirt

2005-06-07T06:22:00.000-04:00

Awesome Headline:

Italian court says gay man can drive Reuters - Mon Jun 6,12:42 PM ET
ROME (Reuters) - A Sicilian court condemned road authorities on Monday for suspending the driving license of a man after finding out he was gay.

How did they find out he was gay just by watching him drive? His left turn signal was out so when he put his hand out the window to indicate where he was going the cops instantly noticed how limp his wrist was, prompting them to pull him over.

While driving around in my sick 93 Mercury Sable (white with velvet maroon interior http://www.777autosales.com/carpictures/small360.jpg ) something hit me while I was listening to my IPod. There is a direct connection between some hilarious shows on the Cartoon Network and Hip-Hop. Many rap artists use samples from other songs, movies, video games, TV shows etc. This trait has always been a part of hip hop, and personally I think it is what makes it so interesting. I am not talking about P Diddy taking a whole Phil Collins song, and trying to rap over it. I am talking about a song like Wu-Tang's Tearz (From their first album, 36 chambers) that uses a sample from great motown song. They use the drums and the chorus to make a definitive song on one of the most groundbreaking albums of the modern music era. Why is it so groundbreaking? Because it's heavy metal hip hop. They were so raw and and appealed to everyone. Never has a rap group been so cinematic. They were reading the script of a movie about Staten Island that was never made. White kids in Ohio were tuning in and were feeling every word they spit. If you have this album and haven't listened to it in a while put it back in your stereo and remember the early 90's. ANYWAY
Shows on the Cartoon Network like Space Ghost, The Brak Show, Harvey Birdman, and Sea Lab 2021 are derived from old cartoons from the 60's and 70's. The animation is flat and the character design is so outdated that they have even more appeal in a world where we love "old school." If you have ever seen these programs you will notice that all the producers have done is dub new dialogue and music over these olds shows creating a pleasant mix. The same concept is used with hip-hop. Good artists will use loops from old songs to create a new sounds. They also take clips from shows and movies to tell stories or create effects in their songs. It's the same process in a different medium. Taking the old and sprucing it up with something fresh and stylish is a potent mix. Look how BIG hip hop is. It's bigger than the British invasion that our parents lived through. Rap has influenced everything from those racist McDonald's commercials to Martha Stewart, and if you don't feel me just watch your TV for about 4 minutes.

WORD TO YOUR MOTHER

POSTER TIME!!!!!

This couldn't be more 90's...this poster reminds me of JAMS...you know the shorts

http://www.impawards.com/1991/bingo.html

Even Hackman is disgusted by this...just look at his face:

http://www.impawards.com/1991/company_business.html

I used to love this one:

http://www.impawards.com/1991/toy_soldiers.html

A geek with a cold heart

2005-06-05T08:32:00.000-04:00

People and things or events who should be more popular and or famous:

MF Doom, Rapping Genius
Just look at this guy:http://images.villagevoice.com/issues/0446/cleffi.jpg
This guy sounds like he is rapping the answers to the Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle. He constantly wears that metal mask to follow through with his MF Doom persona. Buy his latest CD (MMM...Food?) and you will understand what all the fuss is about.

Bill Walton, Former NBA star and one of the most entertaining people to listen to while watching a basketball game. My buddies from New York first turned me on to Walton when the Knicks made it to the NBA Finals in 99. They used to talk about how he would completely shit on Larry Johnson with comments like, "Larry Johnson is a disgrace to the human race." You can also hear him proclaim that, "THIS IS THE GREATEST GAME I HAVE EVER SEEN" about 15 times during an NBA season. He is someone you love to hate...he never fails to make me chuckle. He wrote a recent article on ESPN.com about the latest Larry Brown controversy and it's an awesome read. He just goes off on the guy and his thesaurus:

But Larry Brown has shown his true colors, letting the disease of conceit create an untenable mess that I can't see a way out of for him. This is officially a disaster of epic proportions.

Brown's selfishness and his greedy addiction to his own personal agenda has left an indelible stain on everything and his egregious actions have completely overshadowed a potentially great series. Now, Brown is taking the low road by blaming the media and laying it on the messenger as if this is all somehow our fault.

But when I watch Larry Brown today in the huddles, at his press conferences, anything and everything, really all I see is fakery

This whole story is so bad, that Rasheed Wallace now looks like the rational one of the bunch.

See what I mean?

Sylvester Stallone's performance in COPLAND. The five people who read this know how I feel about Stallone. I don't think the guy is top tier actor by any means but he gives a great performance in a movie with an ensemble cast. He plays a washed up sheriff (Freddy Heflin) who heads a town of corrupt cops and worst of all he gets partnered up with Janeane Garofalo. His best friend, Ray Liotta, is so strung out on coke he kills his own wife. He saved the life of the only woman he loved when he was a teen, but she ended up marrying the town asshole. He lost most of his hearing from saving the girl he loved. There is a point in the film where Deniro rips him to pieces in front of Bubba and ends up calling him a "DEAF FUCK". Maybe Stallone's best role since Rocky 1. He put on like 60 pounds for the movie by eating wedding cake before he went to bed. He plays the role so well, and makes us forget about Judge Dredd for a couple of minutes. One of the best lines of the movie is when he is talking to the woman he loves, who is now married, about his own love life:

Liz Randone: Why is it that you never got married Freddy?
Freddy Heflin: All the best girls were taken.

BOOM! It isn't nearly as affective if you read it...go rent Copland.

Michael Ian Black: http://www.gawker.com/news/MichaelIanBlack.jpg
Most of your recognize him from I LOVE THE 80's on VH1, but this comedian has been killing it since 1993 when MTV aired "THE STATE." One of the funniest shows of all time, which was of course cancelled and then they tried to put them on network TV and they lasted about one hour...literally. He is part of a comedy troupe who I believe did something called the "Stella Shorts", which I am sure are hilarious. The troupe did a hilarious movie titled WET HOT AMERICAN SUMMER that should be seen by anyone who likes laughing. I have a feeling this guy is going to blow up soon.

POSTER TIME!!!!

Gay Porn?:
http://www.impawards.com/1982/eating_raoul.html

Porn?
http://www.impawards.com/1982/if_you_could_see_what_i_hear.html

Pirate Porn?
http://www.impawards.com/1982/pirate_movie.html

PEACE

I'm a real live wire

2005-05-31T06:22:00.000-04:00

CRACKING AWAY

San Francisco hosts self-pleasure marathon Reuters - Sun May 29, 1:51 AM ET
SAN FRANCISCO (Reuters) - San Francisco's Center for Sex and Culture played host on Saturday to the city's annual "Masturbate-a-thon," an event its organizers said could draw up to 120 people from across the United States aiming to have a good time with themselves.

They should go to all the catholic grade schools around the country and round up every male eight- grader making the number rise IONS above 120. Most young males have held their own self pleasure marathons when they stay home "sick" from school for a day. It's hard to stay focused when you are home alone watching the Price is Right and the camera suddenly goes from the leathery Bob Barker to a hot floor model spreading eagle on a Dodge Stratus.

Brooke Shields obviously read my previous post about Tom Cruise...and you should too since, unlike me, you didn't have work yesterday.

Shields Attacks Cruise for Criticizing Her Drug Use
Actress Brooke Shields has lambasted former pal Tom Cruise for criticizing her "misguided" use of drugs to combat her post-natal depression. Cruise - who claims to have helped people fight drug addictions through his controversial Scientology religion - recently attacked the Suddenly Susan star for becoming dependant on Paxil, following the birth of her daughter Rowan. But Shields is disgusted by the Top Gun star's "dangerous" comments and took a swipe at his Scientology beliefs, by saying she wouldn't take advice from someone who devotes his life to creatures from outer space. She fumes, "His comments are dangerous. He should stick to saving the world from aliens." Shields is currently weaning herself off her medication so she and husband Chris Henchy can have another child.

Random thoughts and questions

Why do I sweat rap music?

*I went and saw the GZA last Thursday in Philly. He came out around 1 AM and was obviously drunk and called some white dude, who was asking for an autograph in the front row HARRY POTTER! If I was black I would assume that all white nerds were "Harry Potters." White people call all black nerds "Steve Urkels". http://www.overspun.com/images/urkel.jpeg

Why am I fan of the NBA?

Why will I watch the same episodes of MTV's the Inferno 47 times a piece?

Why was Rob and Amber's fucking wedding on TV?

Why has Sean Marion shot only about 15 times in the series against the Spurs?

POSTER TIME!!!!!!!!!!

Just got signed by the Eagles:
http://www.impawards.com/1998/air_bud_golden_receiver_ver2.html

Cue ridiculous Guitar riff and saxaphone :

http://www.impawards.com/1998/lethal_weapon_four_ver3.html

BIG...piece of crap:

http://www.impawards.com/1998/small_soldiers_ver3.html

PEACE Kids

Don't worry about the government

2005-05-29T04:31:00.000-04:00

The Cruise Factor:
I came across this aricle on IMDB and the title alone proves my theory about Tom Cruise:

Cruise Launches War on Psychiatrists
Tom Cruise has declared a public war on psychiatrists because he fears the "pseudo-science" has led to a drug-fuelled crisis for today's children. The movie hunk was diagnosed as dyslexic when he was just seven, and doctors suggested he should take drugs to control his learning problems. Memories of that part of his childhood fuelled Cruise to seek alternative ways of overcoming his dyslexia - a problem that led him to the Church of Scientology's educational programs. Becoming a scientologist in 1984 made the actor look closely at the controversial religion's anti-psychiatry stance, and he has since become a firm believer that the science and the medicating of children is wrong. Speaking exclusively to US news show Access Hollywood as part of a week-long special about his scientology beliefs, the movie hunk declares, "I'm going right after psychiatry and these false labels and this pseudo-science. I was diagnosed as dyslexic; I had a lot of energy as a child. They wanted to put me on drugs... Never did; my mother said no, absolutely not, no way and I'm thankful. Had I been put on those drugs, I never would be here today... I never would have had the career that I'm having. Am I making people aware of it by discussing it openly and saying what a fraud psychiatry is? You bet I am. I feel a responsibility because I care..." The actor also maintains that poor results in education in America can be blamed on mind-altering drugs that are given to children. He adds, "SAT (exam) scores have gone right down the toilet. The parents are blaming the teachers, the teachers are blaming the parents and the psychs are putting everyone on drugs."

WOW...thats alot to handle, and his quotes are exactly how he speaks. He just reels shit off. He asks lot's of questions that he answers immediately. "Am I an asshole sometimes? Of course I am! Do I mind? No because it's the psychiatrists who are telling me to mind!" There is something about Tom Cruise that has always irked me, and I could never put my finger on it until his recent public gushings over his new girlfriend. There is a problem with every Tom Cruise movie: It's starring TOM CRUISE. Whenever I see one of his movies I don't see his character...all I see is Tom Cruise. There is no getting around it. The Last Samurai was on TV for the 12 trillionth time yesterday, and I didn't see a military man. I saw Tom Cruise running and screaming amongst alot of asian people with swords. For a second I thought I saw him in those Risky Business tighty whities at one point slashing through the crowd. If you have the DVD you can pause it at the correct point to see this hidden scene.
He doesn't have many different facial expressions either. This guy is all teeth all the time. He and Patrick Ewing should have a contest to see who has the most distracting chompers.
http://www.theage.com.au/ffximage/2005/01/12/cruise_narrowweb__200x285.jpg
http://img.slate.msn.com/media/82/020918_PatrickEwing.jpg
Tom Cruise is like a hologram. He isn't real. He doesn't even have a belly button because he was created in a lab in hollywood 1962. It's hard for me to explain my problem with Cruise because it is filled with mystery. Maybe it is because he is such a big star that I simply can't get around that fact. Everyone knows who he is, and he is TOO nice when you see him in an interview or any kind of public performance. If you went out this weekend and saw Tom Cruise at a bar he would most likely talk to you, by you a drink, and offer to have you back to his room to watch him have sex with Katie Holmes. He would actually convince you to watch the sex.
I think Cruise's character in Magnolia is a perfect description of the person he really is...Frank T.J. Mackey:
http://us.movies1.yimg.com/movies.yahoo.com/images/hv/photo/movie_pix/new_line_cinema/magnolia/tom_cruise/mag.jpg
As T.J. Mackey Cruise plays a character that is most like his real life persona. He commands a crowd with his constant ramblings and that million dollar smile. Cruise and T.J. have this" I couldn't be happier about my life" attitude going for them that never ceases. It is almost like Cruise is in a constant orgasmic state. To put it blunty...he is always cumming. Cruise has actually reached a level that's beyong tantric sex and he won't share his secret with anyone. In Magnolia T.J. is confronted by a journalist who breaks him down during an interview. She asks him some real questions about his family, and T.J. doesn't have many answers. He has completely erased his checkered past from his little brain. The real Tom Cruise wouldn't have any answers either because he is a pod person. Like I said before he was made in a lab somewhere in Hollywood.
So my main problem with Tom Cruise is that he is TOM CRUISE. He could do anything he wanted in Hollywood...honeslty. When you look at his list of films the guy really hasn't failed.
LEGEND isn't even as bad as some people say it is. Eyes Wide Shut is pretty ludicrous, but it's Kubrick's last show, and that film will always have an excuse for it's missing pieces...Kubrick died. There is also Losin It, which I have never seen or heard of, but don't balme Tom Cruise. Blame the casting director because Jackie Earle Haley is in it. You know the tough kid from the Bad News Bars who rocks the motorcycle and hooks up with chicks :
http://www.imdb.com/gallery/hh/0355097/HH/0355097/JackieEarleHaley2_picts.jpg?path=pgallery&path_key=Haley,%20Jackie%20Earle
Cruise is a hollywood darling that will never cease to exist. He is always going to be around. He is always going to put people into a trance. He is never going to make a movie that absolutely bombs either. Tom will continue to dominate and we all will continue to buy tickets to his films. Just Remember kids...he isn't a real person, and you can take his characters in anyof his movies and switch it up. For instance Jerry Maguire could be in All the Right Moves, and you wouldn't even bat an eyelash. Go see Magnolia and you will know what the hell I am talking about.

POSTER TIME!!!!!!

Deniro as a German Sheperd:
http://www.impawards.com/1989/jacknife.html

YEAAAAHHHHHHH
http://www.impawards.com/1989/no_holds_barred.html

What Michael Jackson does before he goes to bed at night:
http://www.impawards.com/1989/phantom_of_the_opera.html

PEACE

My bed is on fire with your love

2005-05-25T06:11:00.000-04:00

Tennis shoes and a Zorro mask

Masked Flasher Targeting Women May 24, 2005 6:00 pm US/EasternDOYLESTOWN, P.A. (KYW) He wears a mask like Zorro, but no clothes. CBS 3’s Lesley Van Arsdall reports, police are searching for a most unusual flasher targeting women in Doylestown.“Some odd things have happened around here but this is definitely a new one,” said Doylestown resident Liz Benke.Many people in Doylestown find it hard to believe that a man dressed only in a Zorro mask has been following women. Police say it has been happening for months, but went unreported until this weekend when there was several sightings of the suspect approaching women.“We had two women walking down the street and he pops up wearing nothing but a Zorro mask,” described Lieutenant Michael Cummings. One of the women approached was Christina Gambino's friend and coworker at Chico 's clothing store on main street.“Apparently he runs up to Amy and her friend, jumps in front and says, ‘Hello ladies!’ and runs into the dark,” said Gambino with a smile. Although it sounds comical, police are taking it seriously.If you are approached by the suspect, Lt. Cummings says, “Get away from him, make some noise, and make sure people know what's going on.”

They are claiming that this masked man is mentally ill. I say he is a mental GIANT. Whenever I hear about incidents like this I have to let out a nervous laugh. The concept of flashing is simply beyond me. The only satisfaction I could see someone getting from it is a good laugh while you are running away from your victim. My mother was flashed by a man when she was sitting on the swings on a Philadelphia playground as a child. She said the man walked up and opened his coat and exposed his naked "E.T. like" body. He then closed his coat up and scampered away like the squirrel that he was. Five years later they were engaged to be married.
Thanks Dad:http://www.babaloons.com/nocalcharacters/images/zorro.gif

Why there are nursing homes:
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/caller_jailed

Schwarzenegger "Suspects Stallone of Nazi Smear Campaign"
California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger suspects his former rival Sylvester Stallone of leading a secret 1980s campaign to give the Terminator star a reputation as a Nazi sympathizer, according to a new book. The two Hollywood action stars were bitter enemies in 1988, after Schwarzenegger enjoyed an affair with Stallone's ex-wife Brigitte Nielsen and accused the Rocky actor of hiring publicity agents to save his image. And in new book Fantastic: The Life Of Arnold Schwarzenegger, biographer Laurence Leamer claims Stallone sought vengeance by telling British journalist Wendy Leigh that Schwarzenegger's Austrian father helped round up Jews during the Holocaust and that Schwarzenegger was a "secret admirer of Hitler". Leigh claims Stallone paid her legal fees and covered her settlement to the Austrian actor, after he sued Leigh for libel when she published Stallone's alleged comments in a book. And although Stallone insists he did not contribute to Leigh's controversial tome, Leamer claims Schwarzenegger "reluctantly" confirmed he still believes Stallone worked to smear him as a fascist sympathizer, reports America's New York Daily News newspaper. The pair have since settled their differences and are firm friends again.

WOW...I am an ever bigger fan of Stallone now. There is nothing like accusing someone of being a nazi to defame their character. I have accused all of my rivals of being nazi's...even the jewish ones. Mad props to Ahnuld for getting back at him by sleeping with Brigitte Nielsen. Any Stallone rival could sleep with Brigitte Nielsen. All you have to do is bring a copy of this with you: http://movies.nnov.ru/Covers/Stop!%20Or%20My%20Mom%20Will%20Shoot.jpg . Someone could do a thesis paper on the careers of the action heroes. Who has made the worst movies? Who's movie career fizzled the fastest? Who sounds the worst while they are delivering their lines?
Stallone Stinkers:
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0102603/
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0105477/
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0111255/
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0113492/
Stallone Classics:
Rocky 1,4
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0065904/
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0090859/
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0093692/
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0106582/
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0083944/

I am personally a Stallone guy, but many disagree. I have to get back to work, but I will certainly have a Ahnuld run down soon and the winner of best laughable action star of the late 70' s and 80's.

I'm out like the horse collar tackle