really professional and in-depth movie review. okay, not really.

what one really wants is for The Year of the Dog to be The Good Girl, but with animals. Sadly, it's not even close to that. Why does Molly Shannon do this to herself? l seriouosly believe she is (really!) a great actress deep down inside, and Saaaaaaaarsgaard is just genius most of the time (seriously, I love Peter Sarsgaard). But ugh, frankly the movie was a big giant steaming bore and the kid that was supposed to be cute wasn't. Nice try to replicate Little Miss Sunshine, Mike White, but you lose.

Please note that this did not mean I didn't silent-bawl throughout significant chunks of the movie. I mean, I get a little nostalgic about my fish, people. I cannot even fathom such possibilities re: my dog. OH MY GOD NOW I'M CRYING.

In conclusion, do not go see the Year of the Dog. I'd make some sort of lame attempt at a "...while PMSing joke" here, but that's pretty fucking unforgiveable, no? Oh wait, I just did. Sorry.

big love

1. this photo is why I sometimes love this city more than I care to admit.

2. They aren't fedoras, exactly, but like: little grandpa hats? What ARE these things? It is the new fashion craze sweeping teh indie nation or something; I saw at least three during the round of my new concert game, "Spot the Indie Kid in the Semi-Fedora" at the DPlan show, and then one real exuberent-like kid who I secretly loved wearing one at the Wrens. Please, let an old goat in on the secret?

3. Oh yeah, Wrens. i love them all. Jesus, they are so great live. Love. LOVE. All of them and their chubby old balding old old* selves. The rendition of "Happy" should have made the 18 indie sophomores standing/dancing/bopping right in front of me spontaneously O or something, if they were able to get through the pot haze** emenating from their hair to do so. Anyways, more here. I have never been to the Tombs, and I wish to never return. Ever. Ever. It was.... mind-bendingly scary. Like, I was concerned at first that the lynch mobs would come for C. and I, but then I realized just how drunk everyone was. That actually made it funnier, because no one in the bar could stand up. I felt like I was in an opposite-world carnival funhouse. The text messages alone on my phone re: the whole experience are worth saving though, I think.



* (not really that old. just, in context, all 5 of us were old.)

** (best thing the N told me all weekend: "So I was listening to the radio and a guy had the best line about drug use ever. He said, out of the blue, 'Man, pot makes you think you could write that book after all.' Awesome." god, truth. Take note, BSWW!)

oh my GOD j'all

Joe got caught aboard a boat with seven tons of opium!

If you are seeing them again tonight, color me jealous. I can't remember the set list except that it was awesome*, and they ended w/ "onward, fat girl," and did I mention it was awesome. Also, I passed someone crowd surfing which I have not done since like, 97. ALSO also, porn cake!

Off to the Wrens tonight. do not disappoint me, Jersey. I know - a high, high bar was set last night. It's okay, you don't have play yr A game.

Also, whoa Jason Cadell hair-n-beard super combo. I like.


* HEY if any of you have Friday nights set list, could you remind me please? thanks.

i would say respect is due

tonight (!!!)

Enough of the borax, Poindexter.

Right now, if you took my arms and battered me around the face and ears with them and insisted that I stop hitting myself, Lord Almighty, I could not. Most likely I would start crying or making sounds like a newborn kitten or both.

meh

For a time, about 15 years, I assumed my immune system was made up of some kind of up-armored invincible white blood cell shooting raygun. Sure, it panics during the springtime allergy attacks and of course I got that hotel/cruise ship virus that everyone got that one Xmas, but I never got the flu or the sniffles or the dropsy. I never got whatever it was that was going around and everybody else had.

But then I was in Vegas and miserable and I made the G go get medicine with me even though I was convinced science hadn’t invented cure for whatever mutated Legacy virus I was battling. And when I listed my symptoms as fever, muscle ache, congestion, cough and runny nose she pointed at a box of cold medicine that specifically stated that it treated fever, muscle ache, congestion, cough and runny nose. She told me I had a cold and everyone gets them and called me several mean names before I crawled back into bed. As long as I was drugged up, I was functional enough to use the monorail and gamble away several thousand dollars in lunch monies.

And then I flew home.

And now I have a sinus and ear* infection with a tree pollen allergy kicker. Or “nature’s earplugs” as I call them. I went to the TV on The Radio concert? Honestly, I couldn’t hear a thing but people seemed to be having a good time with the head bobbing and the sleeveless shirt-arm pumping.

But at least I could stay home one day and lie in bed silently without any distractions.

Or...



They could be jackhammering outside my window for 72 straight hours. No matter how congested your head is, you can still hear one of seven dump trucks backing up and down my street. It’s actually a DOT requirement.

*the doctor let the G look into my ear with the little ear telescope and she can report with scientific accuracy that the inside my ear indeed looks “red.” Science!

Boundary Meat Writers Wkshp

Hey, remember how we started this writing thing? Yeah, me too. Heady days, my friends. Next meeting is Tuesday, where I am supposed to have my shit together for a story draft, and I do not.

In happier and not-really-related news, Gp and I have challenged each other to a Meatcake bake-off. I think we've decided neutral grounds on Tuesday night, and that the lovely members of the BSWCollective get to the be the judges of our culinary abominations delights. Here's to hoping none of you are vegetarians. Or Breatharians.

We can bring giant steaming piles of meat into Saloon, no?

"Meat" yr defeat. BY MEAT! It's on, Capps.


PS:

Re: this: the hilarious-because-i've-seen-it-7 million-times? Up Close and Personal. Pfeiffer's changing hairstyles - epic. (Oh! And Live from Baghdad)

saving the planet, one bite of vegemite at a time

S: I always laugh about how midnight oil gets zero airplay on the radio throughout the year until EARTH DAY. then they are everywhere

the g: how do you sleep when yr bed is burning. it must be HOT

S: we care about the earth ergo we will play midnight oil

the g : works for me. i think?

cheese n grillz

i am concerned with you, world: the weather last night was perfect, the power was out on the whole block, people were test riding bicycles in the back parking lot: why were you not on the galaxy hut patio? where were you? i am dying of consumption, gout, and yellowfever, and even I made it out. good times.

in other news, i am super mopey recently, i don't know whats gotten into me but i think i might have teared up at a grey's anatomy commercial, or maybe it was about baby shampoo? jesus. intervention, stat.

gangster wrap-up

Vegas never changes, really - it spreads out more w/ each visit, the magic kind of fades into nothingness in less n less time and the dinginess is ever more apparent. But the monorail still is great, just because it's the monorail (!), and the cab drivers are always friendly, way friendlier than any other town, and I saw Spamalot. Also, work went relatively well depsite a severe language barrier and unions. Oh man, LV unions.

Then I flew through Denver for a night and ate dinner ("the Gangster Wrap") with my friend B. (+ posse) who is great and who I would set up with every single female I know in this town if only he'd move here, and then saw a band called The New in Denver's version of a Galaxy Hut/ Velvet Lounge/Iota hybrid; stayed up too late, drank some PBR and accosted a guy in a Ted Leo + P. tee, apparently they are in Denver this week. The New did a cover of "Hotel Yorba."

Then I came home and have been sick ever since. I still haven't seen Grindhouse.

poison

8 days of not really sleeping and being forced to shake hands with all of humanity and travel and bad food have caught up w/ me/us: Pygs are sick and how. The N has no concept of how to handle a cold + burgeoning ear infection; my back aches and I've watched 50 episodes of True Life Forensic Files on cable, so you know it's been bad.

And stop talking about what great weather it's been. I've missed all of it in bed. Of course. I hate you all.

america, the beautiful

What is it about this place that makes a girl stay up too late and serenade her coworkers with "Horse With No Name?" Man, if I had a nickel.

(Long post to follow about me jump-starting 5 feet vertical in bed Tuesday night, slackjawed staring at the TV, a picture of a girl I spent my early teen years babysitting flashed onscreen; her mom being interviewed on CNN. Thanks world, for making it normal to say things like "phew, she was only shot superficially." But she's okay, she's okay, she's okay, unlike 32 others and most of her classmates that morning. There are really no words.

Jesus Christ.)

hasslin'

like 8 hours in, and an immediate Hasselhoff run-in. he is TALL and wears a lot of makeup. Also, a tuxedo.

I imagine he just wears a tuxedo all the time. You know- work, the gym, eating at McDonalds, whatever. When is tux time for the Hoff? All the time, bitches.

where was I? oh yeah, this town can bite me.

Where was all the hubbub when King Tut came to stay with us back in 77?

As if the old Newseum wasn’t creepy enough, already.

On Saturday, the area’s curious get their chance to stare wide-mouthed at the plasticized corpses of China’s most athletic citizens. Bodies: The Exhibition, a knockoff of the original Body Worlds (now with horses!) that has been touring the world in the last few years, opens after weeks of ads in the city’s freest tabloid newspapers. Gaze in amazement as sculpted deli meat is posed digging for a frustratingly out-of-reach volleyball! Good serve! Or swear off smoking for a few hours as you witness the terrifying effect of tobacco on the human lung! Holy China National Tobacco Company! Why is it so brown!?!

Of course, there will be controversy when this show opens. The other cities who have hosted this and other rival exhibits have all faced the ethically loaded questions that these giant Visible Men raise. It’s no chocolate Jesus, but now DC gets to stare into the milky glass eyes of possible Chinese political prisoners who had no say in whether their bodies were donated to science. Again, possible. According to the event’s website “the law” prevents anyone from knowing who these people were. It says, “All the bodies were obtained through the Dalian Medical University Plastination Laboratories in the People’s Republic of China” and then mentions how Asia houses the world’s “most highly competent dissectors.” Oh, Bangkok, you and your shows.

The other visual issue that some may have difficulty with, besides the frequent examples flayed male junk, is the portion of the show dealing with the stages of fetal development. The specimens are sterilely presented in a way that I would imagine an elementary school child would lay out a science project about nuts – peanut on one end, Brazilian on the other. It’s easy to want to imagine them as plastic Mardi Gras King Cake babies and not fetal tissue that has been subjected to some fancy chemical process where all the tissue is replaced by some fancy polymer.

But none of this concerns us Pyggies because we’re not going. While on a field trip to Chicago in ’05 we saw the Body Worlds version and, personally, I have little desire to see it again. And not for to any moral or ethical reasons, I just didn’t find the exhibit very interesting. Frankly, as some fellow rockers mentioned to me last night, most young men in this country got better anatomy lessons by reading Erik Larsen drawn Spiderman comics. Also, Flex magazine as an adult.

Besides, the bodies aren’t even the best part. And it’s not the stand alone circulatory or GI or reproductive or nervous systems, either. The highlight of the whole exhibit is wedding-like guest book messages that the public is asked to sign at the end. The examples on the website are, obviously, very positive. But back in ’05 I copied down the reactions on single page of the 4 books available for signature. I figured they’d become in bloggy someday. Enjoy.

• Too much baby dong. - Chris, age 11

• All we are is ham meat. - Matt, age 14

• Change the music in the plastic baby fetus room. That's the last time I play violin. - A violinist

• It brought back painful memories of my dead hamster's bloated carcass lying in his cage. Goodbye!

• PS I now have to go claw my eyes out.

• My worst time in a museum ever.

• Very wonderful. Especially the one that looked like Calista Flockhart.

• Mind Bobbling!

• Breathtaking - the New York Times

• Single Male looking for Female. 35 years old, very fit. Please call ask for Kieth (708) 308-****. PS. Must love science and animals.

but you're our best mathlete!

Harold Weir: By the way, that drummer you're listening to...
Nick: Yeah?
Harold: He's terrible!
Nick: What? That's Neil Peart, he's the greatest drummer alive!
Harold: Neal Peart couldn't drum his way out of a paper bag!

Oh, cmon now, Charles. You can't hate Rush that badly, and yet have a drummer who is a dead ringer for Jason Segel (Marshmellow! Nick Andopolis!) in your very own band. As any hardcore "F&G" follower knows, Nick's love for NP is second only to Bonham.

(hat tip to AM by the way, who was first to excitedly point this similarity out inbetween songs.) Related to all this: City Veins packed the house last night.

paint by numbers

Echoing: I heartily encourage you to make a donation to the DCist team for Servathon 2007 - even if you don't know anyone on the team and don't feel comfortable making individual pledges to strangers, you can donate by clicking "General Team Donation."

Unrelated, the Mutt Strut on June 3. I plan to hobble my ass through that as well, I think. We almost got oursefs' a dog there once, the league is very well run and needs donations, like most all shelters do. Almost-Dog was significantly better behaved than our current beast. OH DREAMS OF WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN.

Jasper Buckleman

Awaking to Saturday’s rime attack was probably not the ideal way to start Easter weekend especially if your fiancé has somehow convinced you into getting your wedding pictures taken on a baseball diamond in the snow and the cold and in your ivory dress with no sleeves and also in the mud. But he’ll be wearing a warm woolen tux and his Nat’s baseball cap, for some reason, to keep the warmth from escaping through his head so it’s all good in or within 2 miles of the hood.



Actually, that does look kind of pretty. But, dude, lose the cap. Yankees or Red Sox, maybe, but not the Nats.

Anyway, the snow was toothpaste-spit-take surprising on Saturday morning but it looked picture perfect on the local tulips and daffodils while walking the dog. And since I had only seen the cherry blossoms this spring while driving past them with my middle finger extended toward the tourist who were slowing my roll, I figured 7:30am and covered in snow was as good as time as any.



I made two mistakes, though. The first was not wearing socks and almost losing a toe. The second was assuming that white flowers covered in white snow would look any different than white flowers not covered in snow. In the blackest crannies of childhood memory I believed cherry blossoms to be as pink as an Electric Youth perfume bottle. Not so – cherry blossoms during a winter sneak attack are white on white with red buds and kind of boring.



The dog and I dragged each other around for another 45 minutes – him to look at ducks, me to look GW women’s crew team – before wandering over the FDR Memorial. I thought it would be fun to get BD to pose next to Fala but it turns out that a giant metal Scottie is another thing our worthless dog is terrified of.

The growing list:

Bears and wild pigs* (which he was bred to hunt and why he was kicked out of West Virginia)
Hardwood floors
4 penned baby lambs at a Scottish festival**
Jim Moran*
Revolutionary War Recreations
Mulch
Wind
Parades*
The painting of a Mr. Peanut looking butler that adorns a dry cleaners near our house
Fala

In the end, the best I could do is get him to pose for about half a second in the bread line. Times were especially tough for Brown Dogs during the Depression.



Except for Sandy***. That dog had some crazy-assed adventures.

---

Easter?



I got one complaint. A couple years back, Brach’s or some similar candy company tried to dump some excess corn syrup on the masses by dying their candy corn in pastel colors. As fat Americans, we should not stand for this. Candy corn is for Halloween and Halloween only and Easter candy corn should not tolerated.

*Things that I find acceptable
**Things I find wildly unacceptable
*** Did know that the onomatopoeia 'arf' originated with Little Orphan Annie's dog Sandy?****

****me: (trying to get noodle out the spelling of onomatopoeia) what are those words called that sound like actions?
Governess: batman words?

"You know how every Woody Allen movie has a Woody Allen character in it, even if Woody Allen isn’t playing him?"

- I am recently more than a little obsessed with Amy Ross. Her Tiny Showcase deal sold out last night in less than a snap of a finger, it was upsetting because who doesn't love goats! and magnolias! We have a blank wall behind the couch in the basement, currently exploding with Wilco posters, my new daydream is to have her come over and paint BD blooming from a gardenia base instead.

- Is it anti-woman to have a newfound problem with Laura Prepon? Gaaahhh, she used to be all red-head-smokin, sexy to the serious and normalish even while sexy, and throaty and crushable, even in the movie "Slackers"* which I secretly semi-love and will reference ocassionally by asking friends if their psycho exes have made a hair doll of them recently. Now sweet sweet Laura P. is ghostly, same-color head to toe (blondy-blandy, like yrs truly comes by naturally) and too thin and starring in potentially the WORST SHOW ON TELEVISION; and not even "worst show" like "Slackers" is "comically the worst movie because it stars a child runway model and Devin Sawa".... it is really the worstest. Television like "October Road" (no, you aren't allowed to ask why I saw it. Okay, it was an internet mistake I couldn't turn off, I'm watching and gawking and I can't believe it's really real? It's some sort of nightmare? It is "Love Monkey II: The Reckoning?" And yet it's STILL ON THE ABC SCHEDULE, 2 shows in!!!!) should never, ever be allowed to air. EVER.

- So, the thing with "Grindhouse". I still haven't seen it. You'd think I'd love it, right? But I've decided Rose McGowan is totally a mean girl, the kind of girl who picked on nerds in junior high gym class. You know she was. I can't condone that. Also, review I laughed at.

- The N and I will be at Velvet Lounge tonight. I should be packing instead, but. City Veins, taking over your city veins one needle stab at a time! Or something! I sacrifice at the altar of Local Rock gods, that they may bring excellent sound control and ample appropriate rock feedback and flowing bud light and a rousing ovation from friends and warm weather for crops to grow, or whatever it is the gods do for us here in Chocolate City.




* IMDB Plot Keywords: "Nose Bleed / Caught Masturbating / Cheating / College Life / Swimming Pool." You know if that doesn't explain college life in 10 words or less, what does.

And then we complained that there were only 4 cars per train on the blue line this morning. WHAT IS METRO THINKING!?! Hello! Cherry Blossums? Geez

We witnessed large-scale suburban roadside drama this morning when a 1954 Ford pick-up truck fell off its trailer and slowly rolled backwards down King Street into oncoming traffic. It was the timeless story of rush hour near-chaos with a woman running down the street, waving her arms and the rest of the commuting world standing around doing nothing.



Who do you think we are? Dr Gridlock? If that were the case, I would have just leaned out the window and told the lady that this wouldn’t have happened if she only taken the Metro.

let's leave work early

1.

Sometimes, years later, people you thought you knew you surprise you with their great newfound... gentleness. Eating Thai food across the table from someone who you used to be (meekly) kind of afraid of (penchant for Bloodhound Gang, nunchucks, tight-fitted tees, sunglasses in study hall, copious aural feedback in place of knowledge re: the actual instrument/music, red-faced temper, etc.) now a decade later and talking about diapers and Netflix with total confidence: because that's exactly how he wanted his life to turn out. Might make no sense, but it's pretty great.

Also after said dinner & 2 beers with old pals, I came home and GUESS WHO BOUGHT ME EASTER CANDY ON SALE. (! ! !) Whopper eggs, people. Besides bunny ears and candy bowls shaped like baby chickens and like, easter decorations involving tulips, they are my holiday kryptonite. (anything involving Halloween doesn't count, because we all know that's more than a holiday, that's a way of life.)

2.

If you know of a good kennel/dogcare/etc place that takes on... difficult cases... and pampers them anyways and such, please to be contacting me. We will be out of the US for 9 terribly long days, and BD is about to have his universe rocked by the terrible world of kenneling. With strangers, ommgggzzzzzz. In other BD news, my boy is suffering from a tiny ear infection and is shaking his head so hard and often he has actually rendered himself stupider than before. You thought it wasn't possible, but here we stand, severely brain damaged. He has ear drops. We have set high comic standards with the admin of such drugs. Woeful, that hound.

3.

Ryland Bouchard is a wierd lil guy with kind of weird lil music, but i'm a fan of "on vacation." I dont know why. Better than the cold war kids though. (sorry?)

Also, I've recently rediscovered my IPod (thanks to Gp for fixing it when it decided to freeze up all asshole-like.) Go listen to "Sancho Panza" by the Plastic Constellations. So good.

4.

In other baby chicken news, one of my BFFs is such a prolific procreator, I have stopped visiting her/these infants in the hospital every time they arrive. God, every nine months like clockwork it seems. Cute as buttons, people, but I'm only one woman. One sucky, sucky, bad friend woman. Welcome to the world BG. May I always have gum, may your older brother and sisters not beat you into bloody oblivion. At least not until you can hold yr head up on your own. Head control is the first line of defense, or so I've heard.

5.

Renn Faires

comfort n joy

weekend: stood in line for an hour or so just to realize I could mail all my passport renewal and name change shit. uggggh. got my hair did. cleaned the house a little. took 70000 pounds of clothing to goodwill. tricked the drycleaners into recycling hangers that did not originate in their store. ate fish and chips. watched tv. woke up late. watched more tv. went to costco. went to safeway. went to outlets (what? I know.) bought a shirt. Saw "the lookout," which is really good, and I'm not just saying that because I like Gordon-Levitt so much. the N smoked an entire salmon in our vaguely frightening backyard meat smoker, we went and apologized to God for all the shitty things we do daily, and then we came home with the fam and ate so much food my brain almost exploded. The N's grandpa flirted with me and gave me a candle (he is always giving me candles. it's cute. I don't get it at all.) The dogs wore bunny ears briefly before ripping them to shreds, and took naps in the sun. I said "don't mind if I do" to second and third helpings. Oh, and carrot cake.

Also, D's mom challenged a fat cop to a footrace after being pulled over for doing 37 in a 35.

I have a thing for Easter, its so weird and unlike me and yet damn, I love Easter. I think it's the bunnies.

no, actually, i can' t help you

today marks the 756th time I have made the horrendous mistake of waltzing into target wearing khaki-colored cords and a red teeshirt. because I'm brain damaged.

Anty Maim

With the onset of spring we welcome several things into our lives:

The arrival of intersection blocking tour buses
Giant blonde Nebraskans with size 14 shoes crossing against the red light
Browning cherry blossoms skim-rotting in the Tidal Basin like the chocolate pudding at Jack’s “Fresh”
The stars of 37 digitally animated Pixar movies trolling our kitchen.

Ants.

Attracted by the delicious window sill buffet of overly-ripened tomatoes and a constantly uncovered jar of dog treats, these little buggers have so far mocked two years of Raid ® Ant Baits III. The G has moved every food item into the fridge with the hope of ridding the hacienda of these pests, including the bananas (violating the advice from nearly 60 years of Chiquita commercials) and garlic, for some reason. But, to paraphrase the words of Charlottesville’s poet laureate*, these ants keep marching/not fucking dying.

So experts were consulted and research was conducted and tests were carried out. The trap baits garnered zero attention from the ants, though the dog found them tasty and poisonous. The process of squishing them individually was highly satisfying but wildly inefficient and my cupboard-side vigil resulted in me burning through all my sick days. Cough.

Fortunately, random unsolicited advice came our way. “You gotta try these Terro ant traps,” we were told. “It’s like the outdoor seating at The Front Page on the first warm day of spring and the ants were interns and the Corona’s were poison and the limes were even more poison.”

I challenge you argue with that description based on what happened, literally, 10 minutes after I put the bait out.



It was a full blown ant panic. The first ones on the scene used their ESP to call their buddies and when new ants showed up they were so excited that they would touch fists and do thorax bumps, even they know it was kind of lame. We weren’t even sure how the ants were getting into the house but the steady stream of new soldiers betrayed their secret entrance. Several times the hole got backed up as the ones showing up to the party prevented the ones trying to get the Terro to the nest leaving.**

The parade continued for about 6 hours until the stuff started to harden. It was hard not to rub my hands together and laugh maniacally as I knew these suckers were carrying home liquid death to their queen. On the flip side, though, I started to feel really bad when one got stuck in the goo and was abandoned by his mates. He was still there the next morning, waving his tiny ineffective arms and trying to crawl to freedom. I tried to liberate him with a steak knife but I only accelerated his demise in the end. Poor Woody Allen.

Results? 100% success. It’s been just over a week since they got their first taste and we haven’t seen anybody hanging around for 4 days. And it only took one of the six included packets. So if you got some ants to murder on, I got a delicious borax and Splenda cocktail for them to suck on.


*Meredith Bragg

**Unfortunately, the ants from the southern and western parts of the colony blocked the transportation bill and the area remained congested. The northerners were infuriated, especially since the bulk of the colony’s tax revenue was based on the growth of their technology corridor. They were also upset that their smaller high school football teams could never win any colony titles, even though their players took more AP classes. However, the northerners got the last laugh when one of their own was elected to the Ant Senate, swinging the national balance toward the Democr-ants.

LOOK I BLOGGED ABOUT IT

from here

i am so not their demographic

From the Mont Blanc website:

THE STARWALKER PEN: For a cosmopolitan, dynamic and self-confident generation.

So cosmopolitan, Mont Blanc does not allow online pricing or purchasing. Wow. Is this how it goes, the luxury goods biz? I wouldn't know.

It is a long and treacherous tale, why I am shopping online for schmancy pens. Remember last year when I was buying rubber chickens. Man, those were good times.

Also, if I were to open a pen shop, I would so name it "The Penis Mightier." No maybes about it.

the future is clear

Concerning another recent conversation with MJ: the new "No Child Left Behind" logo?



Now what y'all started with was no great masterpiece, but oh my GOD. If you ever want to hear a rant about the glories of kerning and how it can change your life, now would be a good time to email. Maybe I'll vlog about it.

I would make even more fun of this logo, but it appears to have been drawn by an epileptic cat, and cats have enough to worry about nowadays what with Big Pet Food trying to kill them all off, so I won't make fun of their 5th grade-stee logo design project. Yet.

year of the headache

is it extravagent that I just used two .37 cent stamps on a bill, rather than just going to buy .02 stamps? I mean, the deal is: i will never do that, and those 37-centers have been sitting in my wallet since forever.

i know exactly what all you people are thinking: "who cares? because WHO PAYS BILLS BY MAIL?" the answer is: i do, so shut up.

Heart and Sole

Um. Wow?

(I believe "Fact10" is the catalog number for the album Unknown Pleasures.)

From MJ:

It's either:
- the first sign of an impending apocalypse
- the first sign of an impending cross-platform marketing campaign for the upcoming Joy Division movie
- the co-opting of a truly countercultural symbol for marketing/sales purposes
- the death of Peter Saville's career
- the rebirth of Peter Saville as some sort of mythical figure for people who will buy it
- the first sneaker aimed at the precise demographic of 37-45 year old British men who have basements full of orderly rows of LPs, shrinkwrapped and sealed tight.

I haven't decided which one yet.

private life of a rat

1.

My chicken curry, while quite tasty as re-heated leftovers, is missing something. The last time I made it, I actually went so far as to look up a recipe for curry powder (hand-ground!) ( I shit ye not!) and then made it (from scratch!), but then ruined the whole steaming pile w/ the amateur mistake of using canned condensed coconut instead of coconut milk, which made the entire thing similar to eating... well, a curry-tinged can of condensed milk. Holy crap, so sweet. Bad curry juju.

This time I got the canned coconut milk part right, but used plain ol' mccormicks or safeway or whatever brand yellow curry powder, along with a few dashes of this-that-theother spices here and there and lemme tell you - it is lacking. My mortar and pestle experiment was far superior.

I tell you all this because although round 2 was a significant improvement over round 1, I still feel i am not so skilled at making curry. So. Also, I have just made my entire office floor smell like curry. YR WELCOME, office peoples.

2.

Have you been outside today? Oh my, so great I am willing to turn into a hacking red-eyed crazy-coiffed decidedly unsexy Saraghina just to get one sweet whiff of pollen-thick wind. (phew.)

Nice weather we're having.

Gp put up his spring mix. Following, following, never leading, I was going to do the same thing and then, drumroll, my Ipod froze up. I have no idea how to fix this - it's stuck halfway between the "menu" screen and first instance by Earlimart? Like, split screen? And it won't turn off and nothing happens when I plug the damn thing in? Remember how my spring resolution was to curse less? So her einternet, have a soundless, linkless, pathetically abbreviated list of halfheartedness.

- Fortress - Pinback. This is on any spring mix I make for myself ever, I think.

- What Katie Did - The Libertines

- Smash Your Head - Girl Talk

- The Lovekevins - Private Life of a Cat. I swiped this from this guy, and have played it 1000000000 times since.

- The Vessels - Look for me First in Any Crowded Room

- Figurines - Back in the Day. I recently came to realize that the reason I love this song so much is because it reminds me of the Firefly
themesong. I know.

- Dimes Make Dollars - The Lilys

- Ellie Meadows - The Blueskins

- Walk in the Park - Oh No! Oh My! I think I've recommended this song a billion times.

(ALSO! White Trash Heroes - Archers of Loaf. Okay, this is actually not a Spring song at all, this is a Fall song. Verging on a WINTER song. But I heard it on WOXY today and I got super excited cause it had been a long time.)

3.

Last night I learned that in the jungle beaches of Colombia exist crabs so large they will steal your clothes and beach towels, and take them back down into their burrows with them. Also, they eat baby chickens. I think I kind of knew that because Belizeans talk about "crab problems" like DCites talk about "rat problems" but still. Awesome.




Blink blink, off to go throw Ipod against wall.

your baseball bat words, razormouth!

So the Nats shit the bed last night and according to an email from an old friend I haven't talked to in freaking decades, so did the Rockies.

For the Twins: Morneau and Hunter hit back-to-back homers, drove in four runs and combined for five hits in a 7-4 win over the Orioles in their opener.

go spring!

We have tix for tonight, keep your fingers crossed. Hot dogs and beer. Life is okay.

ALSO

Anyone involved in my NCAA pool: start sending in the monetary proof of yr defeat! I take cash or check. No $$$ orders please. < / gloating>

* * *
Totally unrelated: TDC2 2007 Winning Entries. That "2" is supposed to be a superscript, I know, but I'm stupid.

Scaliowned! (I know, kinda a stretch)

What do I know about the judicial process and EPA standards? Absolutely squat. But I do know a thing or two about Frisbees. Also, cutting the cheese.

And according to my research, today's ruling was the first time either has been mentioned in a Supreme Court ruling.

Not only is EPA's interpretation reasonable, it is far more plausible than the Court's alternative. As the Court correctly points out, "all airborne compounds of whatever stripe," ante, at 26, would qualify as"physical, chemical, . . . substance[s] or matter which [are] emitted into or otherwise ente[r] the ambient air," 42 U. S. C. §7602(g). It follows that everything airborne, from Frisbees to flatulence, qualifies as an "air pollutant." This reading of the statute defies common sense.

omg blind homegirl knows

feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, but I have determined after watching this cinematic masterpiece this weekend on USA that The Langoliers is the best movie ever made.

The link above probably should have redirected you to this.

* * *

I am in the 99.7th pecentile on my ESPN bracket, which means even if Florida wins, I still dominate because I am awesome at basketball bracketology. Thank you Jesus for giving me one skill that has thus far proven to be pretty useless. But whooo, that's like a few hundred bucks to blow on crack n bad girls, right? That's what people do with gambling winnings, right? Right?

* * *

I am still sleepy from this weekend. This is what happens when people wake you up at 6 AM by BULLHORN.