MonthJune 2001

KNIFES, STUFANIMALES

     The other day I was discussing a restaurant with a friend and she was telling me how it was her birthday when she went, so we started talking about different restaurant chains’ default birthday songs / chants.

     Then I got them all mixed up. So, if you work at a restaurant that participates in this “Sing a lame birthday song that isn’t ‘The Birthday Song'” ritual, I would just be thrilled if you’d send me the lyrics to the song and the name of the restaurant that is to blame. Or if you’d like to sing it to me in person and / or via a sound file or something suitably nerdy like that, then that is also allowed.

     I’ve put up my 100% uninteresting account of fiddling around with an arcade machine here. This is a work in prgress, mind. I plan on adding additional content that will be even MORE uninteresting!

     Quick story: I had just taken a shower and was walking past a TV to my room. The TV was on and no one was watching it. As I walked by, I totally got sucked into this soap opera that was on, but only for roughly 2 minutes. Some dude was pretending to forget an anniversary and his lady was getting all distressed and then he proposed marriage and I was like “Way to go, dude!” in my head and then I realized I was half naked and cheering on a guy on a soap opera, so I almost cried.

Three quick Barnes and Noble things:

  1. A little kid pooped his pants while standing right next to me the other day. Oh the smell. He even told his dad he had to go to the bathroom VERY BADLY, but the dad wasn’t having any of that, he was all busy thumbing through Foghat and Journey CD’s. After awhile the intense fumes wafted over to the F – J section and dad took junior to the boys room to ‘clean up.’
  2. I don’t care how meticulously organized your purse is, when you are done paying for something, please do not take an hour reorganizing your key /change pouch or alphabetizing your stamps. The person behind you hates you because you’re wasting their time, and I hate you because I have to stand there all awkward and watch you do it AND watch the person behind you hating you. Thank you.
  3. So there was this hippie guy with long hair and rose colored glasses (for real) sitting in one of the easy chairs next to this hippie looking girl. They have all these mysticism and universe meaning bullshit books spread out on the table in front of them. The long haired guy is pontificating on the meaning of life or some other such crap as only “guys who think just because they have long hair they are universe experts” can. He was doing these slow hand gestures to convey the very deep implications of his speech, and I was snickering at him. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, he removed his rose colored glasses, and started to put them on her in this really slow, gross, pseudo-sensual way. I wasn’t close enough to them to hear but I choose to believe he made some stupid comment about seeing things his way now or something lame like that. Then they left all smiling, because they were probably going to have hippie sex.

  4. Update! I’ve been informed that I spelled ‘hippie’ wrong above. It’s fixed now. You have my deepest apologies.

     So there is a Meijer superstore by my house. In the lobby of these superstores, there is often an area and / or bulliten board where patrons are encouraged to leave ads for things they are selling. There is some insane guy who frequents this Meijer and leaves insane ads on the board. Last October there was one that advertised “KNIFES, STUFANIMALES” and had his phone number. I took it with the intention of photographing it and putting it up here, but I lost it. At any rate, everytime I go there, he’s put up some new gem. Here is the one I found yesterday:

     I wonder if he gets people who buy both ‘prayers books’ AND ‘playboys magazine.’

Busdrivers singing sad songs

Another vivid dream:

     I was with my friend, and we met this guy who drove busses full of old people to casinos. He insisted that we eat with him, so he took us to this raftish sort of thing floating in a river. On the raftish thing was a grill and an electric piano. He cooked us fish and sung us sad songs. Then he told us he had to go to work and that he would give us a ride home in his bus. So we got on the bus, and several other empty busses showed up. He told us that they were going to follow him to the nursing home. So he started driving. To break the silence, he started telling us a story about this girl he used to know up north who he would only see during summers. Just as he was getting beyond the “Set-up” part of the story, he pulled up to my house. He kept telling the story, though, and all the busdrivers behind him got pissed when they realized he was staying put for the time being, and they drove off. Then, I woke up, so he never got to finish his story, but from what I could tell it was going to be a sad one. And also, those dream bus-drivers all got pissed at him for no reason.

     Unless he finished telling the story to the dream version of my friend, in which case, they had a reason to be pissed. Or maybe my friend woke up at the very same time and the bus driver was all “Damn! they woke up. Next time…” Or maybe after I woke up, the dream version of my friend and the busdriver went back to their dressing rooms and took off their costumes and make-up and waited around while the dream stage crew tore down the set to set up for tommorrow night’s dream. DAMN YOU, SUBCONCIOUS!

     You are aware I have a new puppy, yes? No? I have a new puppy. There, now you are. I am trying to teach him a new trick. It is called “Not waking up at five AM everyday wanting to play.” When he learns this trick I will be so, so happy.

This is a ticket to see Radiohead:

It makes me a happy camper. How to get a ticket to see Radiohead:

  1. Order it from ticketmaster canada online. They will not mail you your ticket. You will have to pick it up at a canadian ticketmaster.

  2. Print out your confirmation number.
  3. Look around for the location of the Windsor ticketmaster.
  4. Find this: “Please note: The Windsor Ticket Centres are operated by Ticketmaster Michigan, and therefore carry a higher service charge and distance fee for Canadian events. They are able to sell for events in Ontario in addition to Michigan and Ohio, but handle no Western Canada tickets. These Ticket Centres also do not offer ticket pickup – they cannot print any telephone or Internet orders. Please see the Windsor Listing at the U.S. Ticketmaster site for information.”
  5. Curse your stupid brain for assuming that a ticketmaster that is IN CANADA is a Canadian ticketmaster. Come on, brain! How stupid can you be? Go anyway.

  6. Arrive at 5:07 when they close at 5:00.
  7. Go the next day.
  8. Have them print your internet order, no questions asked.

  9. Three cheers for the organization of ticketmaster!

     This is a maxipad that was stuck to my driver’s side window Sunday morning two weeks ago:

     It said “I have a super-absorbant mind… do YOU?” but it doesn’t anymore, because i put it in my pocket, and when i emptied my pocket to wash my pants, it stuck to the bottom because it’s all sticky on one side. So it went through the wash then got dried in the dryer. It doesn’t look like either cycle affected it much, but then I’m no maxipad scientist. I totally forgot about it until I put those pants on again and found it today. I’m assuming it was a girl who put it on my car, but i’m basing that assumption on the fact that the handwriting was way girly. And also on the fact that it is a maxipad. So, whomever put the maxipad on my car two Sundays ago, thank you, because I love me a good mystery. Unless you are the one who did it and want to tell me, because in that case, screw the mystery, I wanna know.

Fluid Jumpkicks

A really vivid dream I had:

     I was a cocaine dealer, and I was dealing cocaine out of my pocket, and by that I mean the cocaine wasn’t in a plastic bag or anything, it was just in my pocket. When people would buy my cocaine, I would just reach in my pocket and take out a handful and kind of dump it in their hand. So I’m this cocaine dealer and I’m at a hotel. There’s this guy in a suit who has a cell phone in one hand and a laptop in the other, and he’s talking to another guy in a dark suit. All of a sudden, the guy who the laptop guy was talking to pulls a knife. Naturally I run up, and in one fluid motion, jump in the air and kick the knife, cell phone, and laptop out of their respective hands. I let the knife fall to the ground, but I grab the cellphone and laptop. AT this point the two guys in suits decided to team up against me. I run into the parking garage where my friend is mysteriously waiting with a getaway car. He takes off down the road. A few minutes later, the cell phone rings. I answer it. “Look to your left,” says the guy on the other end. So we do and the guys in suits are pulling up next to us. At this point I yell “Go! Go! Go!” like people do in action movies, and my friend blows the red light. We go back to my friend’s apartment, and sit around nervously. There is a knock at the door. It’s the guys in suits, but now they are our friends!? What happened, dream? That makes no sense! Now I go to the bathroom, and while I’m going I’m thinking, “They can have their cell phone back, but I get to keep their laptop.” When I come out of the bathroom the suit guys are gone, they took back their phone AND the laptop, and also they stole my friend. Then I woke up. CURSE YOU, SUBCONCIOUS!

     I forgot to say this above but if you’re one of those people who is all into dream meaning and all that psychology crap, tell me what that means, except if it means I’m crazy, in which case please continue not contacting me for any reason.

     I was at the library the other day and this random 7-ish year old boy comes up to me and looks at me and then does that whole “Wait a minute! I think I know that person, let me do a weird half stutter step sideways thing so I can look again and be sure” thing. And apparently he still thought he knew me, because after the second check-out he was like “Hey!” and waved. So I said “Hi” and did sort of a half wave because I didn’t want to be rude, but I had never seen that boy before in my life. Then he walked away.

This is very tempting.

More later. Busy, Busy.

God Bless the Blake Babies?

If you’ve tried to e-mail in the last two days and haven’t recieved a response it’s because my aol account has hit the fan in the “shit” sort of way. Some sort of person and or computer program gained access to my account, emptied my new mail folder, and proceeded to send out a porn ad to a lot of people. Not cool, by any means.

     Hello again. I’ve been away on tour, studying for a circuits exam, and also being lazy. The Recital / Red Shirt Brigade weekend tour diary should be up by the end of the week, but don’t quote me on that. Speaking of The Recital and Red Shirt Brigade, we’re playing a Benefit show in a barn this Sunday. For more information, click here.

     So we have this Blake Babies CD for instore play at Barnes and Noble, and I play it all the time (Probably more than my coworkers would like). So on the strength of the songs where Mr. Evan Dando delivers guest harmonies, I decided I would go see them when they came to detroit. Bad idea. Wheat was the opener, and I just don’t get why everyone is all “Wheat this” and “Wheat that” these days. They bored me, and they looked like they should have been tending bar in a slightly more stylish club. Then the Blake Babies played. You’ll have to forgive me for not having encyclopediac knowledge of critically acclaimed Boston-based bands (alliteration in your face, yo.) as I’m going to refer the the Blake Babies guitar player as “Mister Guitar Player.” Mister Guitar Player had a FULL marshall stack (Emphasis on full – TWO 4×12 speaker cabinets) turned up to eight billion. I was standing near the front of the stage and all you could hear was this dude’s guitar. After a few songs, I gave up on any hope that he would turn down, and walked to the back of the crowd, where the soundman had done his best to balance things out. Standing back there, you could actually hear Juliana Hatfield’s voice, but you had to settle for either being able to see really well or being able to hear really well. Most bands have a fairly reasonable idea of where levels should be set so that the stage sound is fairly balanced WITHOUT making allowances for guitarist ego in the amp micing. So, in summary:

  • Blake Babies
  • Guitarist is way too loud

  • has too many distortion pedals
  • won’t turn down
  • drowns out juliana, who everyone is there to see

Yes. Also I can’t forget these two special audience members:

     The first guy was wearing earrings, sandals, shorts, and an ancient Blake Babies T-shirt. Also important is the fact that he had a full head of grey hair. Whenever any of the ‘Babes would reference their happiness at being in Detroit, this guy would make a big show of flaunting his T-Shirt and saying “Welcome BACK to Detroit,” with plenty of emphasis on ‘back.’ He did this three times, and it was funnier each time, because he wasn’t doing it to be funny, he was doing it in what can only be described as a sad attempt to garner attention. Sad, sad, old, Blake Babies loving man.

     The second dude was with his girlfriend and he was drunk off his rocker. He sat on the stage with his back to the band and alternated between the following activities at random intervals:

  • Sloppily making out with his girlfriend
  • passionately air drumming
  • Closing his eyes and singing the lyrics to old Blake Babies songs “to” his girlfriend
  • Wearing a hat with an x-wing fighter on it (He did this the whole time)
  • Pointing excitedly at the guitar player (This was only during ear-splittingly loud guitar solos)

     My final gripe about this show was that it was fourteen bucks, both bands sucked, and the blake babies didn’t even play the two songs I came to hear. Their new album is called “God Bless the Blake Babies,” and while some of it is actually pretty good, this show has prompted me to ask that god not bless that guitar player, because he doesn’t deserve it. But he can bless Juliana all he wants, because she is a cutie.

     Another part of the reason I’ve been missing in action for awhile is because I finally acquired an arcade cabinet to tear apart. The game it came with is functional, but kind of lame. It’s called Silkworm, and it’s kind of an anomoly because it’s a 2 player cooperative game, where player one and player two both control totally different vehicles (helicopter and jeep). So it’s kind of like two games in one! At any rate, I’ve already begun tearing apart the control panel and the guts of it and am in the process of deciding what i should put in there. Once I’m done, you can expect a highly uninteresting walkthrough of all the alterations I made on this site.

     I just got an e-mail saying that Eric’s Trip is getting back together and TOURING in support of a live album, and if I was still a junior in highschool, I wouldn’t be typing right now, because I’d be doing handsprings around my bedroom.

     “The band Eric’s Trip has decided to put on a reunion tour this August/September. The cross-Canada dates will begin on August 12th 2001, with the final maritime dates in the first week of September. All dates are still tentative, and will not be announced until more of the details have been worked out. This exciting reunion tour will bring together the four Eric’s Trip members (Chris Thompson (guitar), Julie Doiron (bass), Rick White (guitar), Mark Gaudet (drums) ) who played their last show on that fateful summer day in 1996. Rick White and Mark Gaudet’s Elevator, Julie Doiron’s solo work and Chris Thompson’s Moonsocket remain priorities, but the Eric’s Trip tour will be a fun chance to show off the advancement of their musical prowess over the last 5 years. Rick White is currently working on an Eric’s Trip “Best-of” live compilation, which will come out on Teenage USA recordings and sold on the tour.”

     Let’s see, another thing to tell you is that if you saw Weezer on that Yahoo! tour, and were wondering what the hell happened to that song they opened with, it’s on the b-side of the hash pipe 7″ which I stumbled across last night for $3.99. Fun. Lots of good multimedia at the official Weezer site. Oh! This:

     “Weezer played their new song ‘Hash Pipe’ last night to many screaming fans at the MTV Movie Awards. This sets a new record, as it marks the first time in 4 years that MTV has played real music.” -Craig Kilborn

     You might want to know that Radiohead tickets are already on sale for the Toronto-area date. You might not. I don’t know you really, so how should I know. Unless I actually do know you, and then I probably know whether you want to know or not. Also, The Illinois and Ohio shows go on sale at 10:00 AM tommorrow morning. Hot damn. The temptation to pull a Grateful Dead-esque week of Radiohead is great. Another thing about radiohead (kind of): You’ve probably already instant messaged the crazy radiohead artificial intelligence AIM screen name (“Googlyminotaur”), but if you haven’t be sure to do so. Fun things to do are to curse at and / or proposition it.

“He’s my best friend.” – Ryan Allen, Re: the Googlyminotaur.

Oh, I forgot to tell you. My puppy’s name is Speck.

     Chris O. submitted the older Pete of Pete & Pete fame’s IMDB listing, and suggested checking out the trivia section:

Was suspended from high school during senior year for setting his guitar on fire in the halls.

Attended Hunter High School in New York, NY

Plays cult-favorite Stuart in Ameritrade commercials…

2000 – Is a junior at State University of New York where he is studying documentary filmmaking.

     ..how cool is that? SUSPENDED for setting his GUITAR on FIRE in the HIGHSCHOOL? I’d love to hear his defense of that. I’ll bet it involves the phrases “the man,” and “spirit of rock n’ roll.” Also: am I the only person who didn’t know it was him in those Ameritrade commercials? Everyone I tell about this is like: “Yeah, AND?” and I’m all “But it’s HIM! I didn’t KNOW!” Ugh.

     Don’t you just hate it when you’re using Instant Messenger and you go to type “yeah” and what really comes out is “yeha,” like you’re a big cowboy or something? I hate that.