i need to hear some sounds that recognize the pain in me.

I'm going to complain for a bit. It's like a bad-news-first sort of thing.

I hate shopping. I hate the mall, I hate consumerism. I hate the empty conversations between people in fitting rooms; conversations that I'm sure I've been guilty of myself but that's beside the point. I feel like one of the valley people from that show The Oblongs, surrounded by a sea of Debbies.

And I really don't care at all for Alice in Chains, but when I saw one of their music videos plastered over the screens in the Juniors section at Nordstrom's, I grimaced and wondered if Layne Staley was rolling over in his grave.

...But I have to say, the photograph of the Hubble Ultra Deep Field, and the following words from Alan Taylor and Carl Sagan, has calmed the homicidal maniac in me. If only temporarily.


Go now!

Y'all should be following and reading this blog. Soon to be chock full of videos and hilarity!



Incredibly sad about Bettie Page. Incredibly.

I was pretty miffed the other day driving home from work, when I heard Adam Ant's Goody Two Shoes on 94.7. Really, oldies channel? Don't get me wrong, I love my eighties new wave, but it does not belong on the same station as my fifties and sixties rock and roll. Am I just getting too old? Is this just one of those "things were better in MY day" rants?

It is really sad about the state of radio though. At least where I'm from. And maybe it has a lot to do with my musical tastes changing... but it's also depressing when you know that your oldies station now has a disco night.


funk dat

Oh but while I'm on the subject... this is extremely presumptuous of me, but after watching Control, it made me wonder if people really write better when they're experiencing some sort of emotional turmoil. Thoughts?



me: I just rented that Joy Division movie.

my sister: yeah i know it was a good fucken movie

me: But man. Ian Curtis was an asshole.

my sister: yeah he was, probably why he killed himself.



it's the little things.

noblesse oblige

I have had nothing to say lately. Nothing of importance, nothing of... unimportance. I'd really like a new camera, to be honest. I would love, instead of talking about it, to just document what I've been doing visually (make your joke, go ahead). I mean, the last time I was able to get pictures was (luckily) my San Francisco trip. And now my camera's basically busted. But there's no point in me posting pictures of the shiny, fancy new camera I want... I don't get why bloggers do that. "Oh, here's this new fantastic thing I want"... like we care? But then again, I suppose some of us do. Living vicariously through rich jackasses maybe?

In the words of Bartelby via Crispin Glover, "I'd prefer not to."

STILL, I'd like a camera that works.


one of several things that makes me less loathsome:

...more to come, whenever i feel like it.

'i wanna clamp michael's face in a george foreman grill'

There should never be enough time for you to stop and wonder, "what if". Just be. And do. Life is too short.

And if I wasn't hacking up a lung, I'd be out 'doing' and 'being'.

Being sick makes me extra loathsome of the human race. I've noticed this. And while some of it is admittedly irrational, trust me, I have my reasons.

Fuck you, San Diego.



Hey, I am looking for these movies. Please to read and help a sista out (and I don't mean send me a damn link to buy it on ebay. I'm broke y'all).

Static (1986)

Home Movies (1980 - obviously not the adult swim show)

Yeah, so I'm kind of on a Keith Gordon kick. Blame AMC for showing Christine the other night.


cultural wasteland

Oh Elvis, what were you thinking?

Then again Robert Smith did the same thing with, ironically enough, the wife of FOB bassist Pete Wentz. So maybe it's just the start of some disgusting trend.

By the way, have you heard the new FOB? It reeks of desperation. A sophomore-times-three attempt at still remaining relevant.

guess i'll have to break the news, that i got no mind to lose

New, shiny goodness:

● Last night I was lucky to catch the revival (is that what they call it?) of the hilarious Coed Prison Sluts. The crude humor might have made a better impression on me eight years ago, when I caught it in it's last year in Wrigleyville, but it's definitely nostalgic and still wonderfully naughty. The new Annoyance Theater has a really nice setup too.

● So for Halloween I might be vice presidential candidate Sarah Palin. I figure all I need is an American Flag pin, a sensible skirt, and a lobotomy. Heheh.

● Normally, I don't accept Myspace requests from random, strange people, but holy crap, this girl found me and I couldn't be more thankful. Her store is chock full of vintage clothing from the twenties on up; accessories, hats, jewelry, you name it. So if you like that sort of thing, check it out.

ED: okay so that link didn't work. Try this: 2429 W. Lake Street, Addison, IL. Google it.

● Also, you should all start listening to Science Fantastic, with this guy.


are friends electric?

So I seem to have this problem with belief. The definition I am using here, courtesy of my Mac's dashboard, states that belief is "an acceptance that a statement is true or that something exists, i.e. a belief in god". Or something.

For years I've been this way. I don't know who to blame, really; my father, amateur astronomer and practicing heathen, had a habit of leaving his books all over the house. Books on cosmology, physics, evolution - at night I dreamt of colonizing Pluto and imagined living amongst Pterodactyls. But I digress..

Or could I blame my mother? She tried so hard, after forcing my brother through catholic school in Chicago, to send my sister and I down the same path - only to find that suburban churches just didn't have the same magic. (or same ruler-wielding nuns, maybe?)

Either way, I grew up knowing that I needed proof before I believed blindly in anything. I needed facts and figures. Not false worship. And for a while, I really thought I didn't believe in anything.

But on the same token, I'm superstitious as hell, and my family has had notorious run-ins with what we believe are family members from beyond (trust me, you had to be there).

So what am I? Atheist? Agnostic? Lapsed Catholic?

What I really believe, and what I almost cringe to admit, is that we are all just a part of the universe. Not to sound like a hippie or anything. But if there's one thing we know for sure, is that we are all just recycled atoms.

The most beautiful way I've ever heard it described is this: "As we look around, our spectographs and telescopes reveal, in the dust of exploded suns, that the iron running through our veins, the oxygen in our lungs, and the silicon upon which we stand came about, as it were, from fusion-based waste products in the hearts of dying stars." Ah, thank you, Charles Pellegrino.

What does that mean to me? That means a million times more than any sermon or psalm. It means that we are all the same, that we came from the same quarks and gluons. The same miniscule forces. That yes, maybe some higher power put it all into motion, but then again, maybe not, and maybe it's just some wonderful cosmic quirk. Either way, we are all one and the same.

It seems to me that if people thought about it that way more often, we wouldn't have the problems we're currently facing.


b-b-b-bird is the word

So my Dia de los Muertos altar is currently in progress.

Yep. I may not be Mexican; hell, I may not even be religious, but I love the whole idea of it. Of honoring your loved ones, of still showing that you care. Yeah insert your awwws there.

What else? Vinyl is making a comeback? Yeah thanks Greg Kot. Like we didn't know that already.

Also, Sin in the Second City is my new favorite read.


a grim day for robot kind!

Why am I addicted to those personal surveys on myspace? You know, the ones that I'm assuming high schoolers write, because they always ask questions related to parents or classes or that sort of thing.

And why is it that I only think of really good blog posts when I am nowhere near a computer or a notebook? The kind of ideas that are so good, my ADD-riddled brain struggles to remember it on the ride home, only to lose it when I notice that the car in front of me has asymmetrical Jesus stickers lined along the bumper, which leads me to wonder what thought processes the person went through when applying said stickers? Did they just slap them on there, willy-nilly? Or do they just have no sense of balance?

My brain is angry at me.


we're gonna have a tv party tonight (alright)

I have to say, while I love where I live, I can't believe my cable provider does not have Turner Classic Movies in their basic lineup. WTF? I move one town over and I miss out?

I had to sit at my parents' house last week just to catch Night of the Hunter. And apparently, this morning I missed Bringing Up Baby. And Silent Movie Sunday? No more!

You know, I don't ask for much. I could do without the MTVs and the VH1s and all that nonsense. I don't need to watch famewhores eat tarantulas for money. Or spoiled brats throwing a hissyfit when they don't get the silver mercedes they wanted. And I especially don't need to see Tyra saying, "Congratulations. You're still in the running towards becoming America's Next Top Model" for like the bazillionth time (Although that would make for a fantastic drinking game).

Meh, I could go on a rant about how TV isn't good anymore, or cinema for that matter, but it really isn't that bad. You just have to search through the muck.


good news, everyone

This guy is ridiculously cool. Sadly, I know just enough about space to be utterly interested, but not enough to fully understand it . This guy, however, makes it a little more accessible, and hilarious, to the layperson.

Our favorite Soup host is coming to Chicago. Squee!

Oh and also, I totally quit the second job. So I might actually have more time for myself, as well as writing, soon. Maybe.

not only that

but we also live in the most stressful city. fantastic!


il buono, il brutto, il cattivo


THE LHC IS ABOUT TO BRING DA FUNK! See. Science can be hip. Oh wait. Maybe I'm just a nerd too.


Dis is rly sad. Movie trailers will never be the same.


Ahaha. The truly ugly.


lonely planet girl.

new favorite things:

This album has been in rotation lately. If that's before your time, the lead singer played the guitar dude in There's Something About Mary. Is that before your time too? God I'm old.

actually if you must know, here's the current, but not complete, lineup:

The Idiot
So Alone/LAMF

and I'm trying to find two, no, three things on the interwebs, maybe you can help:

Naz Nomad and the Nightmares
The Wild in the Streets Soundtrack
Stay With Me by The Dictators

So... bit of a New York kick lately I suppose.



no. wait. i didn't learn anything. start over.


well, i did lots. damnit. i don't wanna hafta write about it. i haven't been wanting to blog recently. lately i prefer scribbling in a notebook. but i digress.

BASICALLY, i had an amazing time.

hmmm. maybe i blogs more later.


to the extent that its absurd.

STOP ASKING FOR NEW BLOGS. I don't time to THINK, let alone write about... stuff.

I'm like a busy little worker drone but it's only temporary.

Things are amazing.

That is all.


hang the blessed dj

So THESE bitches are ruining it for girls like us. Huh.

Then again, who wants a jackass like Zach Braff's character in Garden State?

Now that I'm on the subject actually, can I just finally admit that I didn't really like that movie? I don't care how great the soundtrack was, or how everyone thought the script was so groundbreaking (it wasn't).

I just don't feel like the film is going to stand the test of time. It cashed in on a hipness that will only be relevant again twenty years from now, when our kids stumble upon the movie for a sense of nostalgia. The characters, to me, just aren't sympathetic. They're all quirk and no depth.

Fuck. I don't remember where I was going with this in the first place.

Some other things:

New Bauhaus: Really fucking good.

New Faint: Mediocre at best.


champagne for my real friends, real pain for my sham friends.

I just cleaned out my facebook account and removed literally about a hundred people that I either:

● Don't care to be friends with

● Haven't talked to in years (or never met outside of the internet)

● Or pretty much can't stand at all.

Why do people feel the need to 'friend collect'? Who really cares?

Quite honestly, I'm sick of having false friends in my life. I don't care what bands you're friends with, or what shoes you rock or what clubs you can get into.

I need substance to my relationships. And it's nice to finally have some.


lame news

If you haven't heard already, and you care about this sort of thing, a really neat little bar/club burned down in Hillside last night.

Brauerhouse will be missed.


three hits from hell.

Recently, I've had three- count 'em, three people bugging me for new blogs. You know what that means?!

I have three readers now! Hooray!

If you must know, these past weeks have been spent working myself to death. That, and reading wikipedia.

Here are just a few of many midday digressions:

this is pretty damned important to me.

Oh someday. Someday my dream is to have enough money to start donating and campaigning to save silent films.

God. I don't mean to sound preachy, but this is one subject that means so much to me. Haha. I should do one of those commercials, like for the ASPCA, but instead of sad animals, I'd just hold up big doe-eyed pictures of Mary Pickford and Harold Lloyd.

it is the nature of intelligent life to destroy itself.

I blame this guy for a tangent that led from Carl Sagan to the Simulation Hypothesis to cosmogony and back again.

And if I were smarter, I would be able to elaborate on such topics.

i need to see this movie.

William Shatner? Esperanto? Enough said.



I NEED to see the video of the David Carradine interview on WGN Morning News from yesterday.

How come it isn't on YouTube yet?



(The unintentionally Joy Divisioney) WISH LIST.

Touching From A Distance

I've read this book several times. Probably more than several. But I've never actually owned it, I just kept renting it out from the library until some jackass decided to keep it.

my Unknown Pleasures tattoo

Everyone seems to have this tattoo now. But that doesn't bother me. I've always wanted it. Well, since I knew what it was anyway.


Yeah I still haven't seen this movie yet. I added this to the list because I KNOW I need to see it, I'm just bad at going to see new movies. I will, however, be first in line for this one.

Ugh. Work is draining. I am reminded of a quote from the epic film Kids in the Hall: Brain Candy: "Life is short, life is shit, and soon it will be over"... classic.


no "i" in threesome.

I forgot how amazing Interpol is.

And fucking relevant.

You know how going back to certain records will remind you of a period of time in your life?

Interpol was there for the last three significant... events that happened in my life. I say events because the first relationship was a, well, it was what it was, the second relationship was an utter joke, and the third wasn't even a relationship, it was just an inappropriate alliance of sorts.

And thinking about last summer makes me think that this summer is just karmic retribution for things I have done.

At any rate, Interpol needs to start catching up with me.


apocalypse please.

sleeping aides and razorblades for sure. and food isn't my friend anymore and the radio hates me.

today mom said she loved casablanca because it didn't have a happy ending. i told her the petrified forest was much better. but if we're talking bogart then that's a whole 'nother story.

personally, i prefer bonnie and clyde. if we're talking about sad endings and all.

but i'm more interested in the songs at the moment. the ones that really draw blood. the songs that know you better than you know yourself. they've always said it better than i ever could anyway.

i'm just waiting for the salt in this wound. nothing else has ever gone well, what did i expect?

'if they don't put me away, well it'll be a miracle'


well i felt so bad when i heard that song,
ya know it's been such a long long time,
it's a little offbeat and it ain't in tune ya know it's just like this heart of mine

and it hurt
when you went away
and all i wanted you to do was stay

going steady ya we had big plans,
but your friends said it wouldn't last,
it was up to you to prove them wrong,
but you couldn't even do that

and if it hurt, when you left,
ya know you're only hurtin' yourself

ya know the first night you left me babe, it was so hard,
and it didn't hurt you told all my friends i'm a retard

and ya say you know what's best for me,
well if you got your way, i'd have a lobotomy

i got new girls and i'm runnin' around,
the house doesn't look the same,
i hung new posters on my wall and the dog don't remember your name

and if it hurt, when you left,
ya know you're hurtin' yourself

you can try to change your heart, that's true,
but ya never ever ever do

ohhhh baby you never ever do
i'll tell you something, you never ever do

sleeding aides
and razorblades,
tear stained pictures of younger days,
broken mirrors and a bloody nose,
late night tv rerun episodes


it's now or never.

Sorry, dear reader(s?), for having abandoned my soapbox for a few days.

But goddamn am I tired.

Pretty tired of everything at this point.


this concept of 'wuv' confuses and infuriates us!

I have to admit, that new Pixar movie, WALL-E, looks incredibly cute. Then again, I have a fondness for robots, especially cartoon robots.

And oddly enough, the ship's computer in WALL-E is voiced by none other than Sigourney Weaver... who also happened to play Planet Express Ship in an episode of Futurama.

...so would that be considered typecasting?


no new tale to tell.

While I pride myself on my broad and varied musical tastes, I have to admit that I have filed away a catalog of guilty pleasures. Songs or artists that I will only listen to with certain friends, or even just myself. And everyone has them, it's not unusual, but my list seems to be rather large for some reason.

But then there are those bands you can listen to now that were once guilty pleasures, but are considered hip again for irony's sake... take for example my passion for cheesy eighties hair metal. I remember a time where I had to listen to Skid Row or Motley Crue in the privacy of my home or car, windows up for fear that I might look ridiculous. But lately it seems that the trends are turning back, the twenty year theory is in effect and now the new wave nostalgia is fading into rock and roll reminiscing...

...which really makes me upset to think that I remember when those bands were first popular. But then again, I also had a rattailed, bleached jeans-wearing, Powell Peralta-loving older brother.

But then there are the bands that you simply have no excuse for liking. There's no good defense for it. The only thing that I can say is, pop music is meant to be catchy, and meant to be popular... with that being said, I still don't think I can admit to much on this blog. For fear of ridicule, partly, but more for the fact that I don't want it coming back to haunt me. Hah.

While we're on the subject too, I just came to the realization that I am one year away from "twenty six years, on my way to hell". Thanks Trent Reznor. Way to make me feel old.

...Not that listening to nine inch nails is necessarily a guilty pleasure. But I guess I feel silly because in my heyday, I was one of those nine inch nails kids. You know what I'm talking about. Now that's embarassing.


either shut up or get cut up - part one

If there's ever anyone you want by your side, it's my girl Kelli. Nothing is better than seeing a five one, hundred pound little thing telling some big ol' biker that she's gonna kill him.

Actually, if I remember correctly, her exact words were, "I'm gonna smash your fucking teeth in".

So... yeah. Never in my twenty five years on this earth did I imagine that I would almost get into fisticuffs with a gang of bikers. Note, not a biker gang, but a group of 'em. What do you call that anyway? Is it like a gaggle of geese? Murder of crows? I don't know. Group of bikers? Gang of? Fleet? Flock? Fuck it.

So I'm sitting on the steps of this neighborhood bar. It's a cute, divey little joint. All the local cutups and criminals hang out there, myself included. The jukebox isn't anything to write home about, but the beers are cheap and you can smoke on the patio. But I'm on the phone with my guy, so I'm out front. And as we're whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears, these four or five jackasses on their crotch rockets start circling the block. Actually, they weren't even crotch rockets, they were more like pseudo-harleys, fitting for these wannabe weekend warriors that have nothing better to do than to ride aimlessly through a dingy little suburb.

I'm walking up the steps when one of them yells out, "Geek!". I don't know if I just automatically assumed that was meant for me or not, but I turned around.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You're a geek."

"Are you talking to me?"

"Yeah. You fucking four-eyed geek."

"Whatever dude." I rolled my eyes and made my way back in.

Okay, before I go on, I have to just wonder... why would a grown man, probably in his thirties, resort to petty name calling? Am I back in junior high? Is this the playground all over again, and little Johnny Venture doesn't know how to tell a girl that he likes her, so he pushes her into the dirt instead? I laughed at the absurdity of the situation, and yet... it kinda brought be back to my pathetic days of getting taunted in the halls.

I sat back at my table, fuming. I explained to Kelli what had just transpired, and in one swift motion, she slammed her beer down and bolted for the door. Unfortunately for us - or for them, I'm still not quite sure - they had already sped off.

And of course, going back to our table and knowing they were gone, I suddenly have this jolt of courage. Those guys were lucky they had left, the Jets were gonna have their way and we were gonna rumble 'em right. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, maybe it was Kelli's words of encouragement, but I was ready to start something...

Next week: Our dramatic conclusion!!! Will Kelli and Kim get their revenge? Will we find out who shot JR? Or Mr. Burns for that matter?!?!


'All I want to do is graduate from high school, go to Europe, marry Christian Slater and die'

Over the years, critics and fans alike have dismissed Christian Slater as a poor man's Jack Nicholson... and while I don't necessarily disagree with that statement, I have to admit that his early film career left quite an impression on my preadolescent (i.e. oversexed) mind. His 'teen angst bullshit' resonated with the kids of my era... or at least with the hooligans that I hung around, anyway.

Thinking back, I find it kind of disturbing that I was allowed to watch films that dealt with teen suicide, murder, drugs, and sex at that age... but that's another story altogether. Below, his best films... that warped my fragile, fragile mind:


Heathers for me has just become kind of quintessential and played out. I've watched it so many times over the years, I can pretty much quote it from memory. Something about the dark humor and subject matter just appealed to me, I suppose. I can't imagine a movie like this being made now, what with the Columbines and NIUs of today. I never watched it and wanted to blow up my own school, but that's just me. I always saw it as a biting commentary on cliques and social order among teens more than anything. Oh yeah, and Slater as the 'dark horse' Jason Dean? Kinda hot.

Gleaming the Cube

You know, I need to watch this one again. All that I can recall from this movie is skateboarding, Vietnam, and a bleached-blonde Slater. Which is also pretty hot.

Pump Up the Volume

The older I get, the more I like this one. I suppose when I was younger I thought it was a bit silly and contrived - which it is - but there's something innocent about it too, about kids rallying together, fighting the good fight. And maybe it's a bit wistful for me because back then, I thought I could change the world too.

Plus, it's totally nostalgic, because I too, was glued to the radio night after night... cause y'know, before the interwebs and downloading and all that stuff, we had to BUY albums, and TAPE songs off the radio. Damn. Now I'm showing my age.

True Romance

Kinda wish they still had phone booths because of this movie. Nudge nudge, wink wink.

But yea, this one is great. Chock full of pop culture references and homages to all the things that influenced writer Quentin Tarantino, which is why I love his films in the first place. Clarence and Alabama kinda skewed my perception of love- I blame this one, among many others, for making me yearn for Elvis weddings, matching tattoos, and rock and roll. I'm sorry, but that's fucking romantic.

Next Week: Mickey and Mallory Knox: The world's greatest love story?


ain't that a kick in the head.

No monday morning mixtapes today because I'M SICK AS A DOG.

And maybe that's partly why I'm surly today. Those same songs that usually make me happy are just reminding me of distances and longing.

And all those bastards in those films, all those hopelessly beautiful scenes between two people, well they had each other.

Who needs a nap?


turn out the light and kiss my pillow.

highschool sweethearts. four years at war but oh, how the rest of the world just fell away. his arms are home.


like a ninja?

oh cinema, for years I thought you'd given me an unrealistic view of love. i was angry with you, upset for having given me butterflies, for giving me that wonderfully hopeful feeling when screen lovers kiss, hope that I too might have a dance in the rain, or a long embrace under the stars.

or even just the chance to feel that in real life, if only briefly.

i was mad because i thought you lied, thought you'd given me false hope.

guess i was wrong.


Epilogue: I can't wait to watch this later.



WTF? David cancelled the Rockabilly Rebel Weekend. Does this mean the James Dean festival is cancelled too???

does calgon still take people away?

Why is it so much cheaper to live anywhere else in the midwest?! And why then am I still here?!

And how many cups of coffee is it gonna take to wake the fuck up?!

Seriously though, I want answers. Like now.

Oh and Mark, next Wednesday its on.


lookout! lookout! lookout!

This is the gothest playlist I've created, without actually being goth.

The Shangri-Las - Leader of the Pack
Well this one just goes without saying, really.

The Cavaliers - Last Kiss
You all know this one. It's that ridiculous "oh where oh where can my baby be" song. Yeah. The one that kinda irks you but at the same time it gets stuck in your head anyway. The one that the douchebag from pearl jam covers. As if the song wasn't mildly annoying in the first place.

Mark Dinning - Teen Angel
Teen Angel's really messed up. A boy and a girl get stuck on the train tracks. He pulls her away from the car, but she goes back to get his school ring. For some reason, this one really gets to me.

Everly Brothers - Ebony Eyes
Flight 1203 gets swallowed up by the sky, before he gets the chance to propose to his Ebony Eyes. And superstitious me will probably never take a flight 1203 ever again.

Bobby Vinton - Tell Laura I Love Her
It would bring the house down! Heh. But in all honesty, not a fan.

Johnny Preston - Running Bear
Somethin' about a river, honestly, I'm not really paying attention at this point. These damned songs are getting to me, I don't care how cheesy they are.

Pat Boone - Moody River
I don't necessarily condone owning any Pat Boone. But for the sake of this mix, it works.

Dickey Lee - Patches
Basically, star-crossed lovers drown themselves because they can't be together. Why am I still listening to this mix?

Roy Orbison - Leah
The narrator dies in this one... at least from what I can understand.

Jan & Dean - Dead Man's Curve
"It was Jan, you fuckin' idiot"
"It was DEAN, it happened years after the song..."

The Shangri-Las - I Can Never Go Home Anymore
Actually, I don't know why I put this one on here... It doesn't even sound like a teenage tragedy song. I think she just runs away or something. Honestly, I don't even like it that much. I probably should've went with (Remember) Walkin' In the Sand.

I think next week's monday mixtape is gonna be all Murder Ballads.


morbo is pleased! but sticky.

It's storming again, it's gorgeous outside. Better than the ridiculous heat anyway.

I'm super tired but I really wanna catch the new Venture Brothers episode.

Tomorrow's the start of the new job and the end of my social life as I know it.

But it's not a bad thing. I've been burning the candle at both ends lately, I think I need a break.


the piano knows something i don't know.

Is it me, or does the new Ladytron just sound like Witching Hour part two?

Kinda disappointed. Ah well.

I can't tell you how good it is to have the internet in my room of the apartment now... and I can't tell you how pathetic I think that makes me sound.

But hooray for downloading frenzies.

However, I STILL can't find a copy of the Wild in The Streets soundtrack on the internets. Damnit.


music sounds better with you.

I'm hurtin. It's all American English's fault, or rather, it's my friend Jacky's fault for telling me about the show in the first place.

Do you think that cover bands pull a lot of tail? I mean, I'm sure they're not getting as much as the real artists are, but it's gotta be one of those crazy midlife-housewife fantasies to make it with a Beatle, real or not.

This weekend I'm going to be operating the beer tent at St. Charles' Pride of the Fox festival with my hetero lifemate, Kelli. So come out Friday, Saturday, and Sunday… and be sure to tip us, goddamnit.

I only offered to work there because we get free beer and tips… but then I found out that they have rockabilly bands, sixties pop, and forties swing all weekend. So I probably would've ended up there anyway. Might as well get paid for it.

I'm not gonna lie. I'm really cranky today. Severely hungover. Kinda broke, kinda lonely.


here comes the summer!

Oh god. I love it. Two carnivals in one weekend. Neon lights and cotton candy skies.

This weather is beautiful. Nothing beats playing inebriated mini-golf whilst listening to the breezy calypso sounds of Harry Belafonte.


sleeping aides and razorblades.

Today's list:

• Cups of coffee (so far): 3
Yeah, I gave up energy drinks. Too expensive. Now I gotta choke down the free coffee in our breakroom. And for all I know, it was scraped off the bottom of the Mississippi. Or something like that.

• Times I've listened to Guitar Romantic: a million
But really, don't you wonder how many times you've listened to a particular record? Records you've been listening to and loving for years. Crazy.

And while I'm on the subject, there's something really comforting about knowing a record inside and out like that. From start to finish. It's almost intimate.

• Cigarettes smoked: half a pack?
That can't be right. I must have opened 'em yesterday at the bar. Oh god I just called it "the bar". Where is my life headed?!

Fuck this, I'm having cabin fever and it's a gorgeous stormy day. I just want to curl up in bed with a notebook and an ashtray.


oh this just kills me.

"you know i'll be lonely to no end
and you still have the beach and your friends.
but remember girl, you dont have to lie
if you find a new love by the 4th of July

in my letter i'll send you love, believe it
with tears so blue and crystal clear
and remember girl, have a good time
when i get back in school
when i get back in line"

I'm overdosing on caffeine and debt. Sad songs and sentiments.

But nothing good is ever convienient, right?


space girl & astroboy

This is going to sound strange, but it's really good to be back at work.

I miss him already though.

But I've got an arsenal of two-headed nickels and inside jokes to keep me warm while I wait.


wednesday's child is full of woe.

All these songs and these endless days are driving me crazy. I just want another vacation.

Side A
Death Cab – I Will Follow You Into The Dark
The Good Life – Album of the Year
Johnny Thunders – You Can't Put Your Arms Around A Memory
Herman Dune – I Wish That I Could See You Soon
Joy Division – Transmission
Joe Jackson – Breaking Us in Two
Yeah Yeah Yeahs – Maps
Muse – Our Time Is Running Out
Bhopal Stiffs – Bottle It Up
Iggy Pop- Nightclubbing

Side B
Kanye West – Homecoming
The Stills – Lola Stars and Stripes
The Replacements – I'll Be You
The Shangri-Las – Remember (Walking in the Sand)
OMD – If you Leave
Interpol – No "I" In Threesome
Emily Haines and the Soft Skeleton – Crowd Surf Off a Cliff
Sonic Youth – Superstar
Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds – Do you Love Me?
The Undertones – Get Over You
The Strokes – What Ever Happened
The Cure – Like Cockatoos



I know that Steve Carell is no Don Adams, but I'm really hoping that the Get Smart movie is actually good. If not I'm cracking skulls.


'old sad bastard music'

So here's my Monday morning mixtape:

Gene Pitney – Town Without Pity
Ramones – Listen to My Heart
Exploding Hearts – Thorns In Roses
The Good Life – Lovers Need Lawyers
Amy Winehouse – You know I'm No Good
Joy Division – Isolation
Bloc Party – The Prayer
Naked Raygun – Knock Me Down
Buzzcocks – Just Lust
The Cramps – All Women Are Bad
Articles of Faith (or is it Battalion of Saints?) – Second Coming
DV8 – Guns on the Right
Revolting Cocks – Stainless Steel Providers
MIA – Bamboo Banga
Buddy Holly – Modern Don Juan
Teenage Head – Picture My Face
Interpol – The Heinrich Maneuver
The Wedding Present – Further North than You
Patsy – She's got You
The Good Life – Inmates
Beatles – Baby's in Black
Panic At the Disco – Nine in the Afternoon
Death Cab for Cutie – Someday You will Be Loved
The Faint – Southern Belles In London Sing
Cristina Monet – Is that All There Is?
Weezer – The Good Life

We don't have TV or internet set up in the new place yet, so all I've been able to do is listen to records and old mixtapes. I've been pretty much obsessively making compilations for myself and my friends.

The new place is gorgeous, but for some reason it’s a little lonely. I know I've got my roommates but they're dating, they've got each other to share the excitement with.

I think I'm just still settling in. I miss my animals and I (sort of) miss my family—although I don't quite know how to handle my father's emotions, especially after twenty five years of not really being there for me in that respect. Hahaha.

I know it'll be fine though. These things take time.


home of the brave.

Here's the playlist of the past recent weeks in my life:

1. Ramones - S/T
2. Teenage Head - S/T
3. The Exploding Hearts - Guitar Romantic
4. Yelle - Pop Up

Oh I could go on. There's also The Undertones, The Buzzcocks, a bunch of really ridiculous dance music. But what I was really getting to is that for the past couple days, I have been listening nonstop to Naked Raygun. It's like a compulsion. And no matter that some of their later records really break my heart - it's just too good not to listen to. And it really is kind of appropriate for the situation.

Okay, I know everyone's got different ears and they interpret music in different ways, drawing on their own experiences and such, but here's what I got on them, if anyone even cares:

Naked Raygun, in my opinion, were a really militant, almost right-wing punk band on their first couple records (I don't count that ep with Swingo... Basement Screams? Whatever). But listen to All Rise or Throb Throb and it's just totally working-class Chicago punk.

But starting on All Rise and moreso with Jettison, things got more emotional. Not emo, mind you, just raw and powerful. The more the band matured, the more the music became about the fear of growing old, the disappointment of adulthood... but then again, maybe I'm just adapting it to my own experiences.

I don't effing know. Listen to Treason. Listen to Entrapment. Or Walk in Cold. Or Off the Edge. It just kills me.

ED: Oh my god, or their cover of the Buzzcocks' Running Free. Goddamn.


Marge: So like, did you do anything else besides pack a few things? Did you change your license or anything?

Me: Well, I DID change my location on Myspace.

Marge: *sigh*

make a plan to love me.

Only five more days!!!

I am in love with everything right now.

I find it funny that I really tried to make this blog a vehicle for my pop culture rants, and now it's no different than a grocery list. Ah well!

I'm gonna go watch Zach and Kelly break up for the twentieth time.



I have a home. But it's not mine anymore. Everything's boxed up and strewn about. I have the apartment... but it's not mine just yet. I have nowhere to go really.

I'm in limbo.


perfect day.

I seriously want to start writing scripts. Not just for film but just little skits. I had so much fun working on Jimmy's, and I have a couple ideas already. So who's got a camera???

Saturday at my brother's place, everyone talked about how much happier I seem. And they're right.

Mark might come work with me. I really hope so. He deserves a really good job. Plus he'd be two cubes down from me, so that's incentive enough. Haha.

I'm taking another week off too. I'm really excited. And I have awesome people to spend it with. I can't wait.


debauchery at its finest.

My nights are getting stranger and stranger.

I feel incredibly displaced right now. Granted, I'm not moving far by any means, but this isn't home anymore. It's purgatory.

I've got separation anxiety, but from what?

This place is a ghost town. Tristesse, joie, c'est comme ça.


gee my life's a funny thing.

It's strange.

The more that I do with myself, the less that I have to say.

So fourteen days til the move?

Don't let me hear you say life's taking you nowhere, angel.


step into my office, baby.

Ugh. Okay there is literally nothing to do at work right now. So commencing cabin fever, it's too nice to be here but not nice enough to call in sick.

I feel like a raw, open nerve. I know I've been saying this quite a lot, but everything that has been happening lately has left me excited, nervous, and maybe even a little on edge. It's so easy to tell yourself that you're going to relax and just let things happen, but apparently I can't even take my own advice, let alone anyone else's.

I've been reading a girl's blog lately. Sort of a friend of mine. I feel like she hasn't been given enough credit, given what she's been through. Granted, you never know what goes on between two people, but it's disgusting how many people have made up their minds about who is right and who is wrong, without even knowing them. Then again I'm biased myself, because I'm just another scorned woman. But at least I don't have to hear about my ex on television and on the internet. I do, however, feel like my ex 'went hollywood' too, just without actually going there.

I don't hate it when my friends become successful; I just don't like it when they leave everyone they loved behind.

I could say that 'it sucks when people change' or whatever, but it doesn't. It hurts for a while, but then you move on. Things may get better, they may get worse. You just have to keep on. And you meet new people and you reconnect with old ones. It's just the way the world works.

So. Fifteen days till I move.


Jimmy got the pilot! Fuck yeah! I'm so proud of him. Now let's just hope the pilot gets picked up!

But now I don't know if he'll be able to upload the audition video to youtube... I think there might be a copyright issue there or something. Or maybe I'm just making that up. Haha. Either way I'm excited for him!!


whoa doc, that's heavy.

It's a good thing I'm moving out, because my freestanding wardrobe just collapsed under its own weight. That gives you an idea of the sick amount of clothing I have acquired throughout the years.

Everything has become really surreal. That's all I can say about it. Not bad at all though.

I know making compilations has lost a lot of magic in this digital age, but I still find it exciting. Especially since there hasn't been someone to make comps for in a really long time.

Ughhhhh. I need sleep.


rest my chemistry.

I've been burning the candle at both ends lately. It's been amazing and it's been fun but I'm incredibly tired. I think I need to pace myself.

But I feel like I want to see and do it all. And I feel like I need to do this while I'm still relatively young. Haha.

I just want to be a beatnik, I think. I want to see the world and have intense conversations and long, smoky nights.



Well last night was great for two reasons.

One! I was rollerskating with friends and landed on my ass. Not just any kind of fall, but the spectacular wipeout you wish you'd gotten on camera. Luckily, my rather ample behind cushioned the fall.

Two! I had my first speaking role yesterday, in my friend Jimmy Shay's audition tape. What was my motivation? I couldn't really tell you... but here's hoping that Jimmy gets the TV show!


shiny silver dollar in either eye

Well, we move May 10! Fantastique!!!

It was bittersweet at first, but now that it's actually happening, I'm excited. I'm excited for new experiences and opportunities.

Haha. When did I become so optimistic?


bittersweet world.

Well things have been pretty exciting lately. Exciting and nervewracking all at once. For the first time in a long time, I've been incredibly happy. And I've been enjoying myself.

But on the other hand, it's incredibly bittersweet.

I just said goodbye to my snakes, my babies. I cried at the petstore, held both of them for something like an hour before I was able to leave. They're my babies, they always will be.

And I'm starting to pack everything of mine up, or at least get it sorted out before the move. I'm going to miss this place and I'm going to miss my mother and the cats. It's going to be really strange. And of course I worry about my mom. I guess I always felt like I had to be there for her, to make sure she's feeling okay and to make sure her cigarettes are fully extinguished. Hah.

I thought for a long time that I would be moving out with the person that I once loved and cared about, but it isn't happening that way. So I guess that's kind of strange too.

And I still can't stop thinking about a boy that I barely even know. I gave him my number in a fit of alcoholic courage, and now I feel ridiculous. I feel even more ridiculous for still having hope that he might change his mind and want to get to know me. Foolish, foolish me.

I'm just in a really weird place right now. It's not a bad thing. But maybe a little surreal.


joie de vivre, pt. deux

As I walked to my car this morning after a very long night, I felt triumphant. I felt like Molly Ringwald at the end of Sixteen Candles... just without the Jake Ryan. Or Winona Ryder at the end of Heathers... just without the Martha Dumptruck.

Nahhh better yet, I felt like John Bender at the end of The Breakfast Club. Walking proud, fist in the air. Triumphant. Haha.

I'm glowing. This has been an amazing week.


I feel like I win when I lose!

A dialogue* between the male and female members of ABBA, as imagined by myself and my colleague, Mark Daniels:

BENNY: We never sing on the hits! Does Your Mother Know is it! It's always the girls!

BJÖRN: You cunts would be NOTHING without us!

AGNETHA: We DON'T need you!

BENNY: Yes you do! Otherwise you'd just be "Aaah"! Which doesn't sound good at all!

ABLABLA(?): "Buhhh" doesn't sound much better!

Ahhh... maybe this was funnier in the car last night on the way to the apartment.

*Translated from the original Swedish version.


O Hai

This is what I did after work.

Featured lolcats in training: my sister's adorable little hellions, Lupe and Iggy


joie de vivre!

I've discovered the key to life. Or more accurately, the key to enjoying life...

Or maybe it's just the Red Bull talking. At any rate... add Marion Cotillard to my list of girlcrushes. Vive la France! I must note, though, that she will never replace my Audrey.

Also, I got the best present in the world yesterday. Long nights, rewrites, and rejection letters... here I come!



I haven't even seen Juno yet, or read Candy Girl for that matter, but I think I'm in love with Diablo Cody.


holy shit, part deux

Um, why is Steve Guttenberg, best known for his recurring role as prankster/manwhore Mahoney in the Police Academy series, at the Oscars? Nothing against him, though. I actually love the Police Academys, and can probably name them all off the top of my head, even though they were only really good up till the fourth, Citizens on Patrol. But I digress...

Apparently, Guttenberg is one of the new stars of the sixth season of ABC series Dancing With The Stars. Hmm. The Oscars is on ABC too... innnnnnnnteresting. Penn Jillette is on the new season also, which really pisses me off. How can someone brilliant enough to pen (no pun intended) the pop culture masterpiece Sock, as well as host the hilarious and underrated Bullshit!, end up dancing on a reality show? Is he really washed-up, or just that desperate?

And why am I still watching this crap?

what the hell is a jigawatt?!

Okay so for the past couple hangs, my friends and I have taken turns attempting to conquer Super Mario All-Stars for the Super Nintendo system... no doubt one of the best games, made for the best system of all time. All-Stars combined all three NES Marios, as well as the original Japanese sequel to the first game (titled for this game 'The Lost Levels'). Admittedly, our collective attention deficit disorder couldn't bring us to complete either Mario One or The Lost Levels, but we did successfully beat Mario Two and Three over the course of a couple nights. And what we've discovered is that nothing really changes...

For starters, even though it's been ten, fifteen years, everyone still knows exactly where to go. And even though you may have the controller, everyone still shouts out directions like they're holding an effing map. Meanwhile, the easiest jumps and villains aren't always vanquished- and the only difference from when we were ten is how our lexicon has matured. I myself used to throw the controller angrily, but now my defeats are peppered with profanities.

And really, it was like watching a sport. Every difficult maneuver was met with oohs and ahhs by the rest of us waiting our turns. For the kids that never really got into football and preferred arts and entertainment... maybe this was our sport. Anyway, while taking our trip down memory lane, we discovered a few absolute truths to the Mario legacy:

● The music box is simply the most pointless thing in Super Mario 3. It didn't even eliminate the mini-villains, the Hammer Brothers. It just put them to sleep! What the hell is the point of that? And honestly, if you can't beat one or two Hammer Brothers, your chances of getting through the rest of the game are pretty slim.

● The Princess is ALWAYS chosen in Super Mario 2. I know that the other characters have their own 'skills', but nothing beats Princess' long jump. That, and girl gamers never pick the boys, given the choice.

● And finally, despite the advancements in video gaming, nothing will beat the original two-dimensional Super Marios.



I just turned on MTV. And they're not just playing videos, but they're playing one of the best... GnR's Welcome to the Jungle. Did I just step back into 1987? Should I crimp my hair and tease it?

Well, I am wearing legwarmers... so I guess I'm on the right track...

The cheesy eighties metalhead in me is so happy right now.


earth girls are not always easy.

Well apparently the problem was not with Blogger, the problem is with my rather pathetic internet connection at home. Where am I posting from, you ask? Oh. Uhh... nowhere important. Really.

But if you want to see what I really end up doing at work, this is it. Now, there is a backstory behind this, of course, but it really just involves inside jokes and stupid office humor that really isn't funny unless you're there. But since everybody loves zombies, and everybody loves romance, I figured I'd give these two lovebirds another chance.

Maybe eventually I'll give them a history, create a little world for them, or something. Hell, if work continues at this pace, it might even be a graphic novel...


it's more fun to compute.

The best album to listen to on a dreary Monday morning is Kraftwerk's Computer World. If you like this sort of music (i.e., primitive electronic), it's beautiful enough to relax to, but not enough to put you to sleep. It has a very calming effect, enough to combat the blinding rage of having to be figuratively chained to your desk for eight hours a day, five days a week, doing repetitive, mindless tasks that sap your energy and creativity; mindless tasks a monkey could do, but for some reason it pays well enough that you might as well suffer.

I don't know what it is, but I've mentally checked out. No pop culture to be snarky about, nothing to really complain about (other than the above). I try not to complain about work in a public forum such as this, because I know it can come back to haunt you. But god. Kraftwerk is so perfect right now.


Le Tired.

Alright, it's been a few days, and my one reader is pretty pissed about that. Sorry Dan!

So I've been thinking about moving all of this to a new blog site. I hear Wordpress is pretty good, but I'm still shopping around. Don't get me wrong, I like Blogger, but it doesn't give me enough options. Sorry Google.

What else...

Young Homer Simpson just sounds like Abe Simpson, without the congestion.

I drew something at work for this guy, and suddenly I think I'm in love with drawing again. I would post it, but again, Google sucks.

The NIU thing happened, and truthfully I feel bad blogging about all the stupid shit I think about on a daily basis, in light of these fucked-up events. But I did find out Sean is okay, so that's good.

Also, I might finally have guest bloggers. So again, my one reader will be happy.



● Ahhh... I don't really have much to say today. I've been sick, sort of- It started a couple days ago. For whatever reasons, I felt like I couldn't breathe. It felt like a giant, twenty pound brick was positioned right above my chest cavity. And another, smaller (more realistically proportioned) brick was perched right on the base of my head, where my hairline ends and my neck begins. There’s a robin’s egg-sized lump back there, too, and it hurt to the touch. Naturally this had me more than mildly alarmed—not only am I a hypochondriac, but I have a raging case of panic disorder.

Well I went to the Doctor today, armed with a purple post-it note of all my symptoms. He had me lie down on the exam table, fold my arms behind my head, and he proceeded to CRACK EVERY BONE IN MY NECK. Whatever he did, it must have looked like he was trying to kill me. He wrenched my head from side to side, each time feeling that staccato of bones- joints, whatever- cracking at a machine gun pace. Apparently, this had something to do with my breathing?

Well I still feel like I can't breathe, but he said that has more to do with my anxiety than anything. Jesus. At least my neck is fine now. As an added bonus, he told me never to go to a chiropractor, because they're frauds. My doctor is hilarious.

● Also... why do people hate Kanye so much? Or maybe I should rephrase that. Why is he such a polarizing character? He's either loved or loathed, and I'm a part of the former. Personally, I agree that he's egotistical, but that's part of his hilariousness. And it's not like he doesn't have the talent to back it up. His music is fucking great. I think the haters just don't want to admit that.


my favorite boys!

● Also... Joel Stein, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways... For those of you that don't know him (for shame!) he is a columnist for The Los Angeles Times, a particularly witty columnist at that. Everything he writes is dry, self-deprecating, and riddled with pop-culture goodness. So much so that he's a frequent commentator on those ridiculous E! countdowns, like The Hundred Most Blankety Blanks.. It's no wonder I am at once wanting to be him and wanting to bear his children. Kidding...

And several years back, I actually interviewed him via email, for a school project about our "heroes" or something silly like that. He was more than willing, and gave some decent advice. I couldn't believe he responded, but then again, how many college students aspire to be entertainment columnists/talking heads on I Love the 80s?

● Another guy I'm pretty much jealous of is the host of The Soup, Joel McHale. How can I get paid to make hilariously biting comments on the sad state of pop culture? Seriously though, I'd settle for being an intern.

Honorable Mentions: Amir Blumenfeld, of jakeandamir.com... This guy is also pretty amazing. So far I've only browsed the comics, but the zombie pick up lines alone are priceless.

Watch or Die!

I could have used this in junior high!


Hey, wasn't that our fan?

Tonight, I am incredibly disappointed in my medium. In the era of Wikipedia and IMDB, blogs and forums, and the opportunity for literally EVERYONE in the world to share their information, I can't find one simple little fact.

So I guess I will ask you, reader: How many times do The Wonders play their hit, That Thing You Do, in the film of the same name? Granted, I'm watching it right now and could very well have kept a tally, but I figured hey, that kind of information is bound to be on the internets somewhere. As Lewis Black so eloquently puts it, "What the faaaack?!"

I guess it's not vital information, but I am the unofficial queen of non-vital information.


all I know is that my gut says maybe.

While waiting for the stinging, painful bleach on my head to process...

I voted this morning. And for the rest of the day, I was giddy. I don't know what it is about voting that makes me so... accomplished? I guess I feel accomplished. Or at the very least, I feel like I have contributed, that I have made an attempt to make a difference.

When I was much younger, and punker-than-thou, I might have believed that nothing could really make a difference. And on the flipside of that, when I was in college especially, I thought we had the potential to save the world.

...I guess I'm caught somewhere in between now. I know it's not much, but I like knowing that I've at least made an effort. NOT, underlined, not just so I can bitch about it when things go wrong... but who am I kidding? I probably will anyway.


is that Latin?

This morning I watched Groundhog Day, not because it IS groundhog day, but because I fucking love that movie. Bill Murray is pretty much amazing. And I'm not the type to get all sniffly while watching a film, but the scene where he tries to save the homeless man got me all misty-eyed.

Other films that have made me cry:

Titanic- Yeah, so fucking what. And I didn't actually cry, and it sure as hell wasn't when Jack and whats-her-name say their goodbyes in the icy Atlantic. No, it was when they showed the old couple, spooning in their bed, while the water filled their room. Sniffle. See, I'm not that coldhearted.

Big Fish- Okay that whole movie was incredibly beautiful and sad, and I'm not apologizing for bawling like a little girl at the end. I really did. Hah.

And actually, that's it. Really. I'm just not a crier... at least when it comes to film. I was told that Brokeback Mountain is a tearjerker too, but that's exactly why I never watched it. And maybe that's partly why my track record is barely blemished- if I know a film is going to be maudlin or depressing, I tend to avoid it. So much for being open-minded!


back in the 20th century, I had all five of your albums...

Why were the Beastie Boys so much better in the eighties and early nineties?

What happened to their comic sensibilites? Their hilarious videos and even better music? I'll tell you what happened: Effing Tibet!

Haha. Just kidding. But seriously, when your fans start pining for your days of misogyny and adolescent hilarity, that's when you know something is wrong. I know the Beasties are older and wiser, and I'm sure any attempt to recapture what they had would just fall short- but do they have to be so serious all the time? While I appreciate their concern for global issues such as Tibet and the environment and god knows what else, can't they just keep it to themselves?

And actually, I feel the same about a lot of these public figures- guys like Bono and Brad Pitt. I'm sure they think that because people are interested in their lives, they somehow feel responsible for 'making a difference' and all that crap. But honestly? It just annoys the piss out of me.

If I had millions of dollars, OF COURSE I would be helping others less fortunate. But I wouldn't be fucking flaunting it either. Because I should be doing it out of the kindness of my own heart, not for publicity or to make myself feel better. Man I hate the fucking Jolie-Pitts. And Bono. Smarmy fucks. FAAACK.

Whew! But I digress. The Beastie Boys, for better or worse, were at their peak when they wrote songs about crafty hos and White Castle fries only coming in one size. And if you want to get technical, their actual peak was the 1989 masterpiece Paul's Boutique... and it was pretty much a slow descent after that. Was it because of the pressure from feminist groups and entire towns upset by their lewd lyrics and even dirtier performances? Or did time simply calm them down?

In this day and age, I suppose they really couldn't make another Licensed to Ill. But the Beasties aren't exactly terrible now, either. They're just... not the same, I guess. I can't blame a band for evolving. But give me Brass Monkey over The Brouhaha any day.


'He smells like what I think Pierce Brosnan probably smells like.'

●Today I happened upon an episode of The Office I hadn't seen before. It was like the writer's strike never happened!

●And today while making my trek across the vast tundra of Illinois, I saw yet another black Toyota Yaris. Marge and I just saw one yesterday in Palatine. And since I bought the damn car, I've seen about ten or fifteen of 'em. But is it because the black four-door Toyota Yaris is a hot ticket item, or is it just because I've got one now? When I had the '92 Cutlass Ciera (also lovingly known as my bucket 'o junk), I saw them EVERYWHERE. Why is that?!

●Also, I just got suspiciously spammy job offer from some jackass on Facebook. What is this, MySpace?

This article is pretty depressing. And apparently, so is being in the Army...

●Oh, and take that, you record store working, indie rock loving, tight jean wearing, internet surfing, elitist hipster fucks! Yep, I went there.


rant part deux

I have finally realized why I LOATHE Everybody Loves Raymond. I try to avoid it at all costs, but first thing when I get home from work, I turn on the telly... mostly for background noise. And ninety-nine percent of the time, it's still on TBS from the morning, because for some reason I can't miss that hour block of Saved by the Bell. I used to watch the WGN Morning News (which I still love), but the news is much too depressing that early in the morning. Aah but I digress...

Just now, for whatever reason, I sat through an entire episode of Raymond. I don't really remember the entire plot, but at one point he was in the kitchen with his wife and mother, and he BEGS his mother to make him breakfast. BEGS. A grown man. He wasn't happy with his wife's breakfast so he asks his mother to make some.

And then it dawned on me. He's a fucking mama's boy.

But why do I hate mama's boys? Let's just say I've had enough experience with them to know... to know to avoid them at all costs. Infact, one ex in particular LOVED Everybody Loves Raymond, and always tried to get me to watch it. Now I know why. Sissy-ass mama's boys.

One thing I've noticed though... whereas Ray always had to beg for sex from his wife, we had the opposite problem. HAH! Oh, I would feel bad if he wasn't such a jackass. So I really don't care. But this isn't some Sex and the City type rant either. It was actually a rant about bad television... is anyone even reading this thing yet?


the mëtal pöst

● GUITAR HERO HAS KILLED MY LOVE FOR CHEESY EIGHTIES METAL. And I swear to god, If I have to hear that fucking Weezer song one more time, I'm gonna choke someone.

● You know where you are? You're under a dead satellite, baby. You're gonna DIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Kickstart My Heart? ...so I bought the new, limited edition 16.9 fl oz can of Red Bull today at work. Which is actually only the equivalent of two regular cans of the energy drink, but considering I had already had a 12 oz'er on my way to work... Can you say sheer heart attack? Yeah, that's right, I referenced two (albeit geeky) things in one paragraph.

● Also, what started as a timekiller at the office has mutated into something much more hilarious. Click here to contribute, and proclaim your metal-ness. And maybe someday we'll have enough to warrant an honorable mention on some other blog... one that people actually read.


All Faith Is Autopsy.

If you have been conscious at all this week, you already know the news. And it's incredibly sad and untimely, but there's nothing more to say that a hundred news sites, blogs, and entertainment shows haven't already said before.

Yes, Heath Ledger died, but what's to become of The Dark Knight? No one was more thrilled than me (except, perhaps, my sister) to watch this film come to fruition. Every photo seen, every little snippet of film kept me in anticipation for July.

It seemed like they have been going in a different direction this time, in the way of marketing. Instead of dark, heroic silhouettes of the protagonist, we've been fed colorfully disturbing shots of the Joker. Even the film's tagline, Why So Serious? is a direct quote from our villain. No other Batman film, at least in my limited memory, so heavily promoted a bad guy.

But this was all before the tragic loss of a halfway decent actor (I would insert a "Couldn't it have been ____?" joke here, but I'm afraid of karmic retribution). Some friends will absolutely crucify me for drawing such a comparison, but at the time of James Dean's death, Giant wasn't exactly poised to be the blockbuster hit of that summer. This takes us into an entirely different realm of promotion v. media sensitivity (an oxymoron if i've ever heard one). Can they still promote the movie as they have been, without offending the memory of Ledger? Honestly I think it would be more offensive to his memory to change anything about their marketing plan. With or without his death, the film has always been about the Joker.

And what will become of our perceptions of the movie? We obviously cannot watch it unbiased anymore- in the back of our mind we'll always know that the release was posthumous, and that the role is the absolute last in his career (Unless they somehow proceed with The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, but I doubt it will even have the popularity of The Dark Knight). How many people will watch and wonder how his performance will conclude his career?

It could go several ways. If his performance is mediocre, it could tarnish his entire legacy. Or worse, it could be glorified by a still-mourning public. Either way, this is something we really haven't seen in our time. River Phoenix, another lost child of Hollywood, only had two minor releases posthumously. The Dark Knight, on the other hand, is this summer's Spiderman.

I suppose it's just a matter of time before we find out how the public reacts. Not to sound crass, but I doubt it will hurt the box office numbers. I will, however, be curious to know how the final chapter of Heath's career is played out.


What the Hell is a Rant?

I'm sorry, but Smash Lab is just a poor man's Mythbusters. I can't seem to get into it. I think they thought they could take all the explosions of Mythbusters and have an instant hit.

But really, they forgot about the hilarious chemistry between Adam and Jamie. How could you not love Adam's baritone impression of Jamie, followed by Jamie in all his walrus-like seriousness?

Smash Lab also has a girl (sorry, a woman) on the show, presumably to up the sex factor, but she doesn't hold a candle to redhead Kari. And let's face it, no one is as witty and sarcastic as Tory, or as geeky as Grant.

I'm sure Discovery was just trying to capitalize on the success of the long-running show, but really, it doesn't compare. Sure, I'm all about the explosions and the high-speed camera, the crashes and the full-scale destruction, but the show would be nothing without its hilarious hosts... I mean really, what's better than blowing up a keg, other than watching their giddy reactions?

I mean it took a while for Mythbusters to hit their stride. Remember the folklorist Heather Something-Something? Yeah, I don't either. It took some tweaking, but they didn't need to change much. Even in the earliest of episodes, we saw something awesome.

So, sorry Smash Lab. I'm sure you might have some success, but you can't hold a candle to the original.

BONUS LOLCAT! This is pretty amazing.



*Unless, of course, they're in beauty school.


Bitches Get Stitches

So why does it seem like John Mayer has something to say about everything that's going around in the media lately? Was he just as bored as I am and decided to start writing to alleviate some of that?

Look, I don't doubt he's a nice guy. I bet he's a riot to hang out with. My beef is with his posting about every topic under the pop culture sun- from the Dallas Cowboy/Jessica Simpson thing (yeah, I don't know slash care either), to drinking and driving (his stance? It's bad), to the Britney Trainwreck. What's worse is that one, he's pretty intelligent, and two, people are reading it. Why does this bother me so much? Well, mostly because HE'S STEALING MY THUNDER.

I bet people would be all over my blog if I had a few hit records out. Pffffft.



So, in a surprising turn of events, I was actually quite busy at work today.

So. Not much to say.

GIMME SOME TOPICS. Beyond all the crap going 'round in the news lately.



Tom Cruise is fucking nuts.



After agonizing over what my first post was going to be (no, seriously), I'm just throwing this up here now to break the ice, so to speak. 

This is not a test!