Barometer

BUSH: I hate being sick like Presodent Squinty hates poll numbers.

ALBA: Fixed the Trojans infecting the comp.

BUSH: Still don't have Winamp, or Media Player, and somehow lost Java. I'll figure something out, or Rob'll figure it out for me. Also, I owe him something. Muahahahahaahahaha.

ALBA: You know what's always fun? Getting into a nice club free because you've got hookups.

ALBA: The first round of the NBA playoffs, mostly. The Western side looks intriguing but the East is its ugly friend who insists since they came together they have to leave together and no guys should come between them, outside of the King's debut later on tonight. Anyhow, Detroit sweeps, Cleveland in 6, Nets in 5, Heat in 6. Other side, Spurs in 7, Dallas sweeps, Suns in 5, and the Clippers--I can't believe I just typed those words with no sarcasm--the Clippers in 6.

ALBA: My grandma's stopped using the bathroom in the middle of the night...

BUSH: ...but two months and it's same as it ever was. Am I miserable because I can't write? Or because I can't write is it making me miserable? Be nice if I had someone, but when do I really have the time to dedicate myself to them and give them the attention they deserve?

ALBA: I really like "Steady As She Goes" by Jack White's little side band the Raconteurs. Plus, the name earns a couple cool points. Like he needs the things...

BUSH: My favorite DJ in the county got fired from the GSC a couple days ago, and the only way I would've known about it is I found him on MySpace the day before (I was assuming I was going to see him tonight on my way to somewhere else). Now, I'm not saying I'll never eat there again if they don't rehire him--oh, wait, that's exactly what I'm saying. And I'm not saying you should send all your viruses to james@gaslampstrip.com...but if you remember having fun with me down there and DJ Professor CC being a reason why, well, you might want to drop a noticia.

ALBA: The write-in protest me & some like-minded people formed the moment we found out about it. See, the Internet ISN'T just for porn! You can do stuff, too!

ALBA: How the hell did I ever live without a portable DVD player? The transit to work, the staying over at Grandma's, even when I'm bored off my ass in my room--plug and play. Gotta love it.

ALBA: Riding a pretty good streak at Full Tilt Poker.

ALBA: The Throwback pick of the Week, since I heard it on the radio yesterday for the first time in two eons is Oran "Juice" Jones' "The Rain". You were holding hands and IIIIIIII will never be the same.... Ought to be lucky, if I'd actually heard all of Nu Shooz's "I Can't Wait" that would've taken presendence for sure.

ALBA: A Baywatch movie? I predict it flops horribly at the box office and becomes the best selling DVD ever. Ever.

np: Tear You Apart She Wants Revenge

KWBR

Format switch!

DROPPED:
"Hot Topic Is Not Punk Rock" (13)
"Rodeo" (14)

15. Move Along the All-American Rejects (8)
14. Poppin' My Collar Three 6 Mafia (debut)
13. Gold Lion Yeah Yeah Yeahs (15)*
12. Tear You Apart She Wants Revenge (debut)
11. Back Like That Ghostface Killah f/Ne-Yo (10)

10. Black Sweat Prince (11)*
09. I'm N' Luv With A Stripper T-Pain feat. Mike Jones (7)
08. A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me Fall Out Boy (9)*
07. Walk Away Kelly Clarkson (12)*
06. Touch The Sky Kanye West (2)

05. Temperature Sean Paul (4)
04. So Sick Ne-Yo (1)

03. What You Know T.I. (6)*

02. Ms. New Booty Bubba Sparxxx f/Ying Yang Twins (3)*

01. Tell Me When To Go E-40 f/Keak Da Sneak (5) [2w]

np: Electric Relaxation A Tribe Called Quest

I Need A Laptop, Part 6

So, I got to sleep on the World's Smallest Couch yesterday morning, followed by going to work, followed by being shunted into my brother's room trying to watch Veronica Mars on a 12" TV, followed by going back to sleep on the World's Smallest Couch, followed by coming home and finding out somehow my brother's fucked up the Windows Media Player and the Winamp.

Le sigh.

Oh, and I've uninstalled and reinstalled both twice to no success.

Last Night A DJ Saved My Life

So originally!

The plan was to suffer through my get-paid-for-30-but-work-about-115 week watching my grandmother and finding a way to celebrate my brother's 18th. The night after that, DJ AM was going to spin at Belo, a revamped club downtown. I was going to celebrate my freedom with some friends and rock out to some badass mashups.

And then excrement slammed into the cooling device.

My friends all lamed out the night before. I got 7 hours sleep in 2 days. And Grandma seeing a bunch of shit that wasn't there yesterday had me good and depressed to the point where I was going to bail on it. And then, right around the time I was going to chuck it for good, I remembered something I learned from Seinfeld & Philosophy.

See, the little man knows all. You got to listen to the little man. -- Cosmo Kramer

And in this case, the little man said "Fuck them! Live your life!"

So I hurriedly got some shit together, and headed over solo to see it. They complained about price. And going to work tomorrow. My counterargument was that greatness is fleeting, and any chance to experience it is totally worth it.

Yeah, I totally won that one.

Three and a half hours of nonstop awesome. The shirt I just got back from the cleaners is going right back there, the undershirt's going in the hamper, the slacks are getting a wash. And my pinkie toe's got a mother of a blister or something or other. It wasn't even that the warmup act was horrible or anything, it was DJ AM was so awesome I forgave him for Nicole Richie, being in Crazy Town, and 43% of the sins of the white man. Some of the major highlights of one long highlight:

-- He played "Respect" back-to-back with "Please Mr. Postman".

--He played "Please Mr. Postman" and "Tainted Love" and had the brains to not take the pussy way out and follow them up with "Oh Yes" or god forbid "SOS".

--His FUCK THAT SHIT sticker on his comp from www.unamerican.com.

--The consecutive Slick Rick playings of Children's Story and Mona Lisa, then mixed.

--The absolutely ridculous melding of Lionel Richie (ha HA!)'s All Night Long with Tell Me When To Go. By the way, there's going dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb, and there's doing so to Lionel Richie, and I got to say, the second way is way better.

--Bringing in the motherfucking guitars! You Shook Me All Night Long? Yeah, boy. Seven Nation Army? Uh-huh. Lithium, Come As You Are and Smells Like Teen Spirit all seperate from each other? And you know this, man!

--The mandatory playing of Don't Stop Believin'.

--Hearing the DMX/Franz Ferdinand mashup live instead of from the MS site.

--In a heretofore unspeakable display of just having the cojones to do it, Sweet Caroline --> Your Love --> Take Me Home --> Jessie's Girl. You read that right: Neil Diamond to the Outfield to Eddie Money to Rick Springfield. Ye gods.

--What could make me dance to I Think We're Alone Now? You guessed it: Hoochie Mama.

--Oh, and towards the end, the Lean With It, Rock With It/Iron Man followed by the Wanksta/We Will Rock You displays.

--And the whole playing Another One Bites The Dust background for Hollaback Girl.

So, yeah, I rule, but not as much as DJ AM. And my friends for laming out--Attell 3:16 is in effect. Now, since I actually get my weekly sleep in my bed tonight, I plan on wearing that fucker OUT.

np: "Shake It Off/Tears Of A Clown" by DJ AM/Mariah Carey/Smokey Robinson & the Miracles

This Is The Noise That Keeps Me Awake

--> Survivor. Get le fuck out of here with that merde. Have them watch a 80-year-old gaseous, blind, increasingly disoriented woman with about 4 hours of outside help for a week and a teenaged boy turning 18 for $2 an hour and get back to me. You bitches ain't shit but ho's and tricks, as the ever-astute Ben Folds put it.

--> The Bensons are getting divorced! They're getting back together! They're getting divorced! They're getting back together...and all I can think is it's this sort of back and forthing that got them together in the first place, except back then it was on a pole...

--> Christina Milian's new song? Downgrade! (If you want to dance then get down/if you want to chill then sit down...really? Really really?) Ditching Nick Cannon? GIANT upgrade!

--> Speaking of which, I finally caught Who's Line Is It Anyway, Motherfucker last week. Is Katt Williams planning to pose for Atlas? 'Cause he's carrying that show on his back. Good to see the cute Step by Step girl getting work, though.

--> Conan: Is there anything else you'd like to plug?
Brilliant ACTOR!: I have a My Space!

--> Nothing to make you feel warm and fuzzy like seeing one of your favorite shows "blow up" the stadium in your town, only to cut to footage of the one in your old town being demolished.

--> By the way, if I find out who's responsible for moving Veronica Mars against Scrubs, I am going to make Mikey Madsen's shuffle in Reservoir Dogs look like Mambo #5. This isn't like My Name Is Earl & the Office finally curing me of my OC addiction, this is fucking serious. Every year this shit happens, and I don't watch more than 6 primetime network shows a week. Unbelievable.

--> Hey, Billy Packer, since Florida & UCLA are name schools from power conferences, how were the ratings for the final?

--> You know what's aweome about eating at a Brazilian BBQ? Everything: the sense of entitlement, the free bacon in a cup, the cute girl in a cage mixing drinks, and the fact you can get some of the finest meat wrapped in bacon! Turkey? Yes! Sirloin? Damn right! Filet Mignon? Oh, you bet your sweet ass. It's worth at least $10 to consciously feel your heart slowing down. How can you not love a place that grills the PINEAPPLE, for crying out loud?

--> Dani California is going to have to grow on me, I think.

--> I was so psyched about going to see DJ AM tonight, and then I got 7 hours sleep in the past two days, and my friends all bailed on me, and now...

--> Snakes On A Plane. That's all I need to say.

--> To whoever spread the Beckinsale-as-Wonder-Woman April Fool's Day joke: when you die, you will see her walk towards you in that outfit, and right before she gets you one of the devils will cut off your arms and sew your mouth closed you are NOT funny! And history will reflect this!

--> Digital camera first. Then laptop. In between, alcohol.

--> Dave Navarro is a guy's guy. Despite having poker skills, millions of dollars, and Carmen Electra, he seems like a cool guy, as opposed to other guys who have a bunch of stuff and the immediate thought is "THAT douchebag?!" And they may or may not be in Lucky Number Slevin.

--> Common & Jurassic 5? That sounds like the first concert I'm going to this year to me.

--> All right, enough of this. I better go down to the theater and see Basic Instinct 2 before it's sold out.

np: "Four Leaf Clover" by the Old 97s

KWBR

THE HORIZON HAS BEEN DEFEATED:
"The Fallen" (7)
"Dance Dance" (11)
"The Denial Twist" (13)
"My Hood" (15)

15) Yeah Yeah Yeahs ¤ Gold Lion (debut)
14) Juvenile ¤ Rodeo (8)
13) MC Lars feat. the Matches ¤ Hot Topic Is Not Punk Rock (9)
12) Kelly Clarkson ¤ Walk Away (debut)
11) Prince ¤ Black Sweat (10)

10) Ghostface Killah feat. Ne-Yo ¤ Back Like That (debut)
09) Fall Out Boy ¤ A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More "Touch Me" (debut)
08) the All-American Rejects ¤ Move Along (5)
07) T-Pain feat. Mike Jones ¤ I'm N' Luv With A Stripper {remix} (4)
06) T.I. ¤ What You Know (14)*

05) E-40 feat. Keak Da Sneak ¤ Tell Me When To Go (12)*
04) Sean Paul ¤ Temperature (6)*

03) Bubba Sparxxx feat. Ying Yang Twins ¤ Ms. New Booty (3)*

02) Kanye West ¤ Touch The Sky (2)*

01) Ne-Yo ¤ So Sick (1) [1m]

np: "Down With The Sickness" as covered by Richard Cheese & Lounge Against The Machine

Every Day Is Almost Exactly The Same

WEDNESDAY
12:08 a.m. -- At Grandma's. Pretty soon my parents will be taking their non-refundable trip to Boston for the Women's Final Four, and she'll be here. And I'll be on 24/7 watch, essentially. I try to watch some Letterman but end up reading From A Buick 8 instead around fitting in Conan's monologue.
1:30 -- Sleep.
3 -- Not so much.
3:10 -- Sleep.
5:40 -- Not so much.
5:42 -- False alarm.
6:30 -- Not so much.
6:35 -- Helping Grandma change debuts at #1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 9 on the AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! chart of my life.
7:10 -- Sleep.
8: 17 -- My dad comes to replace me and takes me home since it's raining.
8:40 -- Attempt to sleep in my bed. I think all the room and comfort is throwing me off; the previous day everyone mentioned I looked tired and/or worried at work despite the fact I'd stayed home and slept in my bed for about the 4th night in the last month.
10:20 -- Well, that was something, I guess...
11:50 -- Brother has minimum day. I remember those. I liked them.
12:10 -- Shower.
12:50 -- Out.
1:20 -- Find out I did get Natalie Insurance and that I can call the police. Aaron got a call when it was lost, I was able to call the retriever who assured me she was going to meet Aaron. This was last Friday morning at one. No area code gets her number, and Natalie was already dipping in energy before going into a coma yesterday. Later on today, I'm siccing the pigs on her ass. I knew there was a reason I got insurance.
2 -- Eating. I should do that, and have half a hoagie.
2:30 -- Attempt to file report.
2:31 -- Put on hold.
2:45 -- Screw it, have to work.
3 -- My last day of work for at least a week and a half. I've never been less enthused about it in my life.
3:20 -- Since I have to be awake when Grandma is, and attempt sleep around it, I figure I'm essentially on 24-hour watch. My parents are gone for 6 days, equalling 144 hours. Assuming they get home on time Wednesday night around 10, 142 hours. I'm getting $10 an hour x the 30 hoursish of work I'm missing with a major conference in town by watching Grandma, so that's $300. It suddenly occurs to me I'm getting paid $2 an hour for caretaking a constantly potential life-and-death situation. YUP.
3:25 -- Explaining my absence next week to my boss (a different one) again. Same thing. "Such a great son, such a great grandson!"--you know, it wasn't like I was on Death Row before this. She didn't need a lot of help, but when my parents needed me I pitched in. Cleaning her house, putting in the eye drops, I did those things. And quite selfishly, I'm not going for the Nobel Prize of Grandson.
4:15 -- I try to think about all the fun times I had last month to keep my blood pressure down -- Grandma's proof of how I need to watch that -- but they seem like they happened a year and a half ago.
7:30 -- Done.
8:30 -- Home. Slump in this chair, after noting Grandma's here for some reason. I get interrupted every 3 minutes trying to catch up on what I've missed.
8:57 -- Grandma comes in to listen to her old-time radio stories. People use jeepers.
9 -- And now I can't watch Veronica Mars, the whole reason I didn't stay behind at work (no idea Grandma was here, and couldn't call from Natalie hee hee ho). SO. Angry.
9:01 -- Oh, no Countdown, either--the other 3 members of the house are watching the other 3 TVs.
9:25 -- Decide after reading a paper ad to see DJ AM next Thursday, aka The Soonest After This Fucking Week I can and throw a party. This, of course, is a) assuming I live and b) I don't commit any homicides. She may have had the minor stroke, but my social's on the morphine drip.
10 -- Her shows end! Just in time for me to miss everything!
10:02 -- And guess who's taking her to the bathroom!
10:50 -- Since my mom stopped off for milk, despite the fact she's probably going to have to buy groceries today, I don't even get my 3 hours at home I was expecting. Of course I was expecting to be able to sit on my bed and watch one of my favorite shows that even she raves about, but then again I keep foolishly assuming I have a life.
11:02 -- Back at Grandma's.
11:15 -- My mom launches into a toxicology report that sounds like Limbaugh's autopsy. 6 different types of pills to be served up at 4 different times, 3 eye drops, Social Security, Medicare, insurance, hospital info. Did I mention I'm also taking care of my brother for this interval? I will trade lives with 99.6% of the non-maximum-security-inhabiting populace. The chat seems to stretch forever and depresses me even further, especially in the light of my uncle geting colon cancer and my cousin in Detroit having a heart attack. I feel like the only of age family member who's not on Death Watch.
11:53 -- Why can't I cry about this? I realize I haven't cried about anything in four and a half years (building go down, your heart gets ripped out of your chest, throw in a cheating wife stealing your dog and your pickup and you can get on KSON hyuk), but it seems like as overwhelmed as I am, this would be a fine time. Maybe I'm saving it for later.

EARLY THURSDAY
12:21 -- Reading Stephen King in the face of that isn't that scary, especially when people get wished out to the cornfield instead of dying.
12:40 -- So exhausted I pass out during Conan's monologue.
2:06 -- And up. Decide to skip Donnie Darko; I've got "Mad World" in my head enough these days, thanks.
7:53 -- LAWNMOWER. My grandmother actually goes through five hours with sleep in the middle of the night for only the second time since and I get woken up by the fucking lawnmower. My body screams in pain over sleeping over a couch that can barely fit my 5'8", 160-pound frame lengthwise, the knot between my shoulder blades, my lower back, the back of my head, scream, scream, scream.
8:24 -- And that's waken her up enough to go to the bathroom. Precious. Also, Dad's late. Mmm.
8:42 -- Here we go. As I walk home, I think of how rare it is that I get that long sleep (that constitutes long now) and how it's dreamless. I always dream about something. Starlets. Talk show appearances. Book signings. (That's how I can tell I'm dreaming; I haven't written anything of substance in weeks now.) I slept in darkness, and the one thing I thought of of the thousands of things I had all day and night long was one phrase from a long time ago I heard on the radio: no future no future no future for YOU! Lydon was right and wrong then. He still is now.

np: "Ode To My Family" by the Cranberries

And Brought To You By The Letter ARGH

This is not this is not this is not really happening, hey
You bet your life it is
You bet your life it is
Oh, you bet your life...
--Tori Amos, "Cornflake Girl"

Karma is bullshit.

I know.

I did everything in my power to generate positive energy. I was there for others, as I have been for about a month. I took chances the old me would've never taken. I attempted to put my problems behind for one night in order to keep hope alive.

Every turn lead to a car wreck.

Yes, you can sleep on the same couch and get very little sleep.

Yes, you can watch your father fuck up royally and lead to your grandmother disoriented and crying while you were standing on the other side of the door.

Yes, you can buy new slacks and put yourself out there only to not really get anywhere--awesome crudites aside--and lose your phone.

Yes, you can come home so you can sleep on THAT couch.

What do I do?

What the fuck do I do?

Where is the balance? Where is the stop suffering button? Is this because I'm trying to keep some semblance of a life before I lose it next week? Is it because I hit on a blind girl? Seriously, any answers are welcome. I haven't felt this shitty in years, and the wave keeps on rising.

Time for me to steal 3 hours of sleep. Again. Right before work, too.

I want to
I want to someone else or I'll explode...
--Thom Yorke

KWBR

CHECK YO SELF:
"Perfect Situation" (13)
"I Think They Like Me {remix}" (14)

15) Young Jeezy ¤ My Hood (7)
14) T.I. ¤ What You Know (debut)
13) the White Stripes ¤ The Denial Twist (5)
12) E-40 feat. Keak Da Sneak ¤ Tell Me When To Go (debut)
11) Fall Out Boy ¤ Dance, Dance (8)

10) Prince ¤ Black Sweat (15)*
09) MC Lars feat. the Matches ¤ Hot Topic Is Not Punk Rock (9)*
08) Juvenile ¤ Rodeo (12)*
07) Franz Ferdinand ¤ The Fallen (4)
06) Sean Paul ¤ Temperature (11)*

05) the All-American Rejects ¤ Move Along (1)
04) T-Pain feat. Mike Jones ¤ I' m 'N' Luv With A Stripper {remix} (6)*

03) Bubba Sparxxx feat. Ying Yang Twins ¤ Ms. New Booty (10)*

[note: if the Natalie Portman rap got any airplay, it'd be here.]

02) Kanye West ¤ Touch The Sky (3)*

01) Ne-Yo ¤ So Sick (2) [2w]

np: "The Mountains Win Again" by Blues Traveler

Friday O'Barometer

ALBA: V For Vendetta. The first great movie of the Six. Any smart, well-written movie who stirs my anarchial desires and I can sum up the plot with the phrase "overthrow that shit" is going to get my seal of approval any day. Plus, if I don't, Natalie Portman will kill my fucking dog for fun. Word's out on the block's all I'm sayin.

ALBA: I thought the Boondocks was grooving along before with the Cheney shooting, and now that Granpa's found MySpace...good lord, Calvin & Hobbes finally has a worthy successor. That only took a decade, right?

ALBA: Grandma hasn't gotten any worse.

BUSH: She hasn't exactly gotten better.

BUSH: I wish her couch was wider--at 160 pounds and 5'9" I poke over the sides. Makes it a bastard to sleep well.

ALBA: Really like the new T.I. joint, "What You Know".

BUSH: Rihanna. As if the first two songs weren't annoying enough, she's biting Tainted Love now. Anyway we can get her and D4L on the same plane and pull a Skynyrd on that bitch?

ALBA: Payday!

BUSH: Haven't left the house yet today. The new sleeping pattern and working the last 3 days is fucking with my head.

ALBA: I should totally buy the Chappelle's Block Party CD when I do leave.

BUSH: I don't have any set plans for tonight, and for some reason I'm not enormously psyched for Irish Drinking Day. What the hell.

ALBA: 11-5 yesterday on the picks. Lousy Wilmington. Dumbass SDSU.

BUSH: Everybody in the APA pick pool is like at 60% minimum; I haven't been able to break away from the pack yet.

ALBA: The new Kelly Clarkson, "Walk Away". That's right, I said it. Bring it on!

BUSH: My parents couldn't get their hotel & flight deal refunded for the Women's Final Four so I am going to have to watch Grandma for a week while finding some way to celebrate my brother's 18th birthday.

ALBA: I am getting paid commensorate with my work equivalent for having to take that whole week off and not get any bookings.

ALBA: No rent until this thing gets settled, for the first time in a few years.

ALBA: Tax refund! BIGGEST EVER tax refund! You like that, huh?! CAN YOU FEEL IT!? HUH!?!!??!?

ALBA: Portable DVD player? DVD to hook up to the TV? DVD/TV combo? Better digital camera? Cell upgrade? What ever shall I dooooooooooo?

BUSH: Bronchial phlegm that won't go away because I can't take real medicine due to me being up more or less all night long with Grandma? Das not cool.

ALBA: Party tomorrow--well, one of them...

ALBA: Busting out a TRIPLE Running Man with Marco & Madeline at the club last Saturday. I need more friends willing to act out "Tainted Love" with me, and now I have them. EXcellent. (Another reason to love Kelly Clarkson: the Lawnmower totally owns a party.)

ALBA: Anybody really think I wasn't going to pick "Jump Around" for this installment's Throwback pick? Top o' the mornin' to ya.

np: "Like A Stone" by Audioslave

The Four Leaf Clovers/Straight Man's Oscar Fashion Review

1. Jessica Alba (the usual, 8 on the Oscar scale)
2. Salma Hayek (10/17)*
3. Trish Stratus (2)
4. Eva Longoria (3)
5. JLH (5/8)
6. Stacy Keibler (7/9)*
7. Katherine Heigl (4)
8. Jessica Biel (8)
9. Shakira (6)
10. Jennifer Walcott (11)*
11. Kate Beckinsale (14)*
12. Halle Berry (12)
13. Vida Guerra (9)
14. Josie Maran (15)
15. Brooke Burke (13)
16. Carmen Electra (18/7)
17. Summer Altice (19)
18. Charisma Carpenter (16)
19. Raquel Gibson (21)*
20. Kim Smith (22)
21. Mayra Veronica (23)*
22. Sofia Vergara (20)
23. Scarlett Johansson (34)*
24. Lacey Chabert (25)
25. Rachel Bilson (17/5)
26. Kristen Bell (31)*
27. Shannon Elizabeth (24)
28. Jessica Simpson (33)*
29. Beyonce (32)
30. Marisa Miller (debut)
31. Michelle Trachtenberg (40)*
32. Alyssa Milano (26/7)
33. Keira Knightley (debut)
34. Esther Baxter (38)
35. Gail Kim (27)
36. Jamie Pressly (36)
37. Nikki Cox (30)
38. Monica Bellucci (39)
39. Petra Nemcova (debut)
40. Mariah Carey (29)

ALSO OSCAR-WORTHY:
Kelly Hu, Gina Gershon, Pam Anderson, and Vanessa Minillo

DROPPED FROM RANKINGS:
Gabrielle Union (28), Eliza Dushku (35), Rachel McAdams (40)

np: "Pardon Me" by Incubus

Reason #7843 Why I Secretly Love Kelly Clarkson

Go, white girl! Go, white girl! Go, go, go white girl!

Odds of me doing this Saturday night have been taken off the board at Caesar's. Oscar Fashion Review in the next couple days...

np: "Let Me Clear My Throat" by DJ Kool

This Is The Noise That Keeps Me From Sleeping Right

I've given all I can
It's not enough
I've given all I can but we're still on the payroll...
--Thom Yorke

Some people's blogs and lives go through about as clincially as the six-month visit to the medic. They never get too high, they never get too low. I suspect they make great marriage partners, the kind that don't let the shit drag them down and don't lose sight of The Big Picture when the highs occur even while enjoying them.

I'm not one of those people. It's not in my blood; I feel virtually wired to be wired. I need my emotions for everything except big poker hands. Actually, I feel better that I am this way. Highs are meant to be ridden out, lows are too. That being said.

{Note to Future Self: sure, I regret this post there. At the time I needed it. So save it.}

I am coming apart like a baseball that didn't get the proper stitching. My throat is sore and filling up with phelgm. My back is screaming. I've got a headache that feels like a fat person sitting on the top of my head. What little bit of my room was still mine isn't mine anymore. For the past week I've done nothing but sit on couches, siphoning off sleep in 2-and-3 hour bursts while the rest of the family goes on with their lives. It's making me increasingly irritable, cranky, possibly insane. I have to push this all down, or did until I started this post.

My grandmother is getting better, I think. I hope. But I'm at a fine crossroads between selflessness and ego. I realize in the long-term she's more important, she needs the more help, she needs the bed and anything else I can give her because her tomorrows are even less promised than mine.

There's that.

But I can feel myself changing, and I feel powerless to stop it. My already infringed privacy is down to nothing; people shuttle out of the "my room" area every 4 minutes, roughly. I can't write anything of substance despite the free time I'm getting ideas in because I'm a spurt writer and need a block of time guaranteed without interruption (also why I'm such a night owl). I feel, physically, the worst I've felt in the past year, easy. It's been like being a firefighter who never gets a day off: every time the phone rings, every bump in the night, every call of a name and here's life or death and the path is you.

And what about the worst of it? What about all the suspicions by the time your picky mother finds a home with the full-service option it's going to be too late? What about all the misgivings you had about not finding a place when she started going blind last year turning into full-on regret? (Interruption. To wit.) What about all this so-called family camraderie that's suddenly sprung up--you think that's going to be there next week if this keeps? Next month? What happens if/when the worst happens? You think they lean on you now to cover the graveyard shift, what happens if IT happens? You're going to have to carry the weight, again. Times a billion. Everything you've started missing this week? Gone. You might never sleep right again. You might not see the outside world until it's your 10-year-reunion. Everything you started getting going before this happened is already beginning to stale off and fade into dull tableau; good luck getting them back. It's all going to end, and just get worse. You might not get out.

for a minute there, i lost myself

KWBR

GET YOUR WALK ON:
"Turn It Up" (7)
"Talk" (13)
"There It Go [The Whistle Song]" (14)

15) The Artist Currently Known As Prince ¤ Black Sweat (debut)
14) Dem Franchize Boyz feat. Jermaine Dupri, Da Brat & Bow Wow ¤ I Think They Like Me [rmx] (9)
13) Weezer ¤ Perfect Situation (re-entry)
12) Juvenile ¤ Rodeo (10)
11) Sean Paul ¤ Temperature (debut)

10) Bubba Sparxxx feat. Ying Yang Twins ¤ Ms. Fat Booty (15)*
09) MC Lars feat. the Matches ¤ Hot Topic Is Not Punk Rock (11)*
08) Fall Out Boy ¤ Dance, Dance (12)
07) Young Jeezy ¤ My Hood (8)*
06) T-Pain feat. Mike Jones ¤ I'm N' Luv With A Stripper [rmx] (6)*

05) the White Stripes ¤ The Denial Twist (2)
04) Franz Ferdinand ¤ The Fallen (3)

03) Kanye West ¤ Touch The Sky (4)*

02) Ne-Yo ¤ So Sick (5)*

01) the All-American Rejects ¤ Move Along (1) {1m}

np: "Back Stabbers" by the O'Jays

Go And Have A Party If You Want To

Dave Chappelle's Block Party (****½):
All right, Dave's funny and shit. But the lineup made me get my Tyrone Biggums on.

I was eating a carne asada burrito and then all my favorite hip-hop acts came and sang songs for two hours straight godDAMN talking bout Kanye and the Roots and Dead Pres Mos and Talib and Common and Jilly and Erykah and the Fugees getting back together and Lauryn all singing 'Killin me softly with hiiiiiiiisssss sooooooonnnnnnng..."

np: "What's Beef" by Black Star

The Highly Elusive Monday Barometer

BUSH: My Grandma's been in the hospital a couple times since the last post, for one-day stays. The family's been rotating to make sure someone's always around her until we can get her a home, but she seems to be getting better with time. She has lost a bunch of weight, which at her age can't be good. On the other hand I think all the intrafamily drama bullshit has effectively come to an end for the time being to further the greater good. The future is certain, David Byrne once wrote. Give us time to work it out.

ALBA: Paulena's birthday party last Friday. Ran into two more girls I hadn't seen in forever, one partying and one waitressing. Plus, I got to hang out with a bunch of Aaron's people that I hardly ever see, too. Too bad Ivan skipped out. I guess.

BUSH: I still haven't gone on a date this year. I'm about to blow the last hurdle of my 3-month resolutions. Grrr...

ALBA: I did send the Crush a note yesterday which got replied back to today. I wish it was longer, but she did sound interested in the Rosserverse. The future is certain...

ALBA: Two great books in two completely different ways, The Year Of Yes & Never Drank The Kool-Aid. I love Toure--he's like a quasi mentor. The man put in "hip-hop zeitgeist" and survived Suge Knight. And the Year book didn't change my dating philsophy at all but I feel somehow enriched for having read her experience. Probably because I was so miserable on Hallmark Day.

BUSH: I don't know why Cristal is suddenly popping up on the outskirts of the grid. Well, I have a supicion she took my friendly gift for her covering for me on New Year's Eve--and by the way, really wasn't worth it in the hindsight--into some sign of me wanting to get back together. And I think she wants to. And I don't. And lord help me if I have to tell her that. Somehow the phrase "bottom-feeding scum sucker" seems wholly appropriate and underwhelming in the same fell swoop.

ALBA: Music? Glad you asked! "Black Sweat" from Prince; funky. "Temperature" by Sean Paul. Do I know what the fuck he's saying in the verses? Does it matter? (In order: no. yes.) And, most importantly, a cover of "What You Waiting For?"...by Franz Ferdinand. No, seriously. And closing things out with a snippet of "White Wedding" was just really the icing on the cupcake. This week's throwback was almost "Electric Relaxation" by Tribe, and then almost "Make It Real" by the Jets (because everybody sleeps on the Jets), but it's my favorite diss track of all time, "No Vaseline" by Cube. Yea-yea!

ALBA: I forgot to mention at Paulena's birthday party, I did the splits. I'm NOT too old for this shit!

BUSH: Unfortunately, about 50 yards away after the party across the street from where me & Aaron's posse was...and sometimes you just know from sound how this one's going to end.

ALBA: The FSU cowgirls --> Back when I was 5, I thought I should've gone. Now I know. 5-year-old me was a psychic genius.

ALBA: Chappelle's Block Party coming out Friday. I think this and V For Vendetta are the only things I'm really psyched for movie-wise. Well, at least until Final Destination 4 comes out...

ALBA: New World Poker Tour next week! YEAH!

np: "Respect Yourself" by the Staple Singers

How I Roll, By The Numbers

How's my February? Glad you asked!

8: days total (taking out Valentine's Day)
4: total parties
2: towns partied in (Burbank, San Diego)
1¼: number of lapdances received
3: old friends rolled with
about 100: stars seen on the Walk Of fame
2: number of stars I "defaced"
1: blonde waitresses who had to straddle me to deliver my shots
7: rough number of drinks had two Saturdays ago
0: number of hangovers the next morning
1: number of ludicrously hot women who've won Vegas tournaments I've played with
1: number of ludicrously hot women who've won Vegas tournaments I've lost to
1: number of times I wished Certain People would've told me the Vegas thing before I started playing
1: snap decisions made last Friday to go to Stingaree, the hot new club in town
0: number of times I regretted it
90, roughly: number of seconds between me thinking "I'm going to run into someone I know here tonight." and then actually doing so almost literally
5: number of minutes between us hanging out again and him introducing me to some girls
2: number of girls
1: number of girls I'd never seen before, but found cute
1: number of girls I'd seen before, because they were the first girl in high school I'd ever had a crush on
9: number of years since I'd seen said crush
30: number of consecutive seconds I actually was so awed I shut up
1: in the conversation between the Crush and I, number of nurses involved
45: number of minutes I danced with Crush
10: number of minutes for her to back it up after I gave her room
.37: number of milliseconds for me to think "HOLY SHIT"
1: number of out-of-body experiences
1: number of times I busted out the Running Man
1: number of times Crush laughed and started yelling out "Go! Go! Go! Go!"
about 20: number of people who took up the chant
4: number of times I had to think of a downer
1: number of "perfect games" thrown by yours truly
2: number of times I went to Stingaree in 20 hours
3: number of Screaming Orgasms I had down the block to "warm up"
0: number of times I paid double to rush through the "express lane"
1: number of jaws dropped telling the story about Friday night Saturday night
$200: estimated cost of suit drunken white guy who talked to me Saturday night leading with "Where are all the sisters at?"
7: number of times he brought up VIP in 2 minutes
40%: my odds he actually had it
3: number of times he got shot down on the way upstairs
1: number of VIP areas the man with jungle fever had at his disposal
2: number of Grey Goose bottles he had on ice
1: number of whole glasses I poured, at his insistence
5 to 7: estimated number of shots' worth I poured into said glass
$40 to $100: estimated value of alcohol poured
1: number of times I thanked him for his largesse
0: number of times I looked back when I left right afterwards
$0: amount it cost me
4: number of jaws that dropped when I told that story
1: best club EVER. EVER ever.
1: number of fancy hotel rooms I can't even remember fully
1: number of delicious burritos at 2:30 in the morning in said fancy hotel room
16: number of shoutouts I'd like to put here: Aaron, Ivan, Amanda, Erin, Jo, Omar, Danny, Marcos, Chris, the Crush, the three guys from Texas I met in line, Geneva, her boyfriend who's name I can't pronounce, and Barlow, who's drink he bought me was doomed to be overshadowed
off the board: chances I have kavorka

np: "Sympathy For The Devil" by the Stones

What Y'All Know About (Twenty)Seven!?

The LA trip. Rolling like a celebrity.

np: "You Get What You Give" by the New Radicals

Fuck KWBR (Or How Your Hero Faced Down His Past, Bitchslapped It And Had It Go In The Kitchen To Make Me A Samich)

Here's some shit I'm writing down before I forget it:

• Getting a compliment is always going to put an extra spring in your step.
• Grease on a pizza keeps in the taste.
• Oh, my heart stopped.
• There it goes.
• Waiting in line sucks.
• Making friends makes up the difference.
• Rain is the devil.
  
• Sometimes, a new club is hyped as the new End All Be All and you complain about standing in the rain and the cover charge and it's not worth shit.
• This is not one of those times: Stingaree is the best club in the Gaslamp, and by extension, the county. It's bigger than Kirstie Alley, multi-leveled, the rooftop is going to be TEH SHITE come summertime with the Tiki torches and the beds and whatnot, and the DJ is bananas, B A N A N A S.
• Heineken is good.
• Self-fulfilling prophecies still happen, as when I came back down from the roof thinking I'm going to run into somebody and then doing so, seeing someone for the first time in almost ten years from EHS. (OLD SCHOOL EASTLAKE REPRASENT!)
• Having him introduce me to someone else is doing nothing but make you feel drunk when you're barely on drink #2.
• Having the someone else be the first girl you had a crush on is a MINDFUCK and the only way to even attempt to keep the blood from shooting out of your ears is more Heineken.
• Heinken: nectar of the Gods.
• The only way to get over the first girl you ever had a crush on is to bump and grind the shit out of her for about half an hour. Oh, I shouldn't've, probably, but 14-Year-Old Butch was yelling out "REVENGE, MOTHERFUCKER! You do it now or I KEEL YOU SCUM! That's it! That's what I'm fucking talking about!" the whole time. He's a bad influence. Maybe even a Bad Influence.
• Yeah, I should wrap this up so I have that dream where she uses all that nurse practioning to check my prostate with her mouth. It's an overshare, but I'm drunk. (Charlie Murphy: That's why/I say/FUCK IT.)
• "Perfect Blue Buildings" from the Counting Crows is a godsend at a moment/post like this.
• The Running Man is still like Spanish Fly. How did the Running Man ever go away? I swear, every time I bust out the Running Man everybody loses their shit and I get surrounded with people yelling "Go, go, go, go!" like Common's in the house or something. Can I get a ruling on this?
• Being drunk is still great.
• Bumping and grinding is still great.
• Old school--especially "WHOOMP! (There It Is)"--oh, you guessed it--still great.
• Work in 11-odd hours should be interesting.
• So should the party tomorrow night after your shift ends. 4 parties in 9 days.
• YOU ARE AWESOME. Stop doubting it. (This applies to every one of my friends, but is mostly here as a reminder to me.)
  
• SATURDAY MORNING ADDENDUM: Of course she's on MySpace. I mean, seriously.
  

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
READY TO RUN:
"Stay Fly" (4)
"King Without A Crown" (10)
"Unconditional" (12)
"Trap Star" (15)

15) Bubba Sparxxx feat. Ying Yang Twins ¤ Ms. New Booty (debut)
14) Juelz Santana ¤ There It Go [The Whistle Song] (6)
13) Coldplay ¤ Talk (debut)
12) Fall Out Boy ¤ Dance, Dance (11)
11) MC Lars feat. the Matches ¤ Hot Topic Is Not Punk Rock (debut)

10) Juvenile ¤ Rodeo (13)*
9) Dem Franchize Boyz feat. Jermaine Dupri, Da Brat & Bow Wow ¤ I Think They Like Me [remix] (8)
8) Young Jeezy ¤ My Hood (9)*
7) Chamillionaire feat. Lil' Flip ¤ Turn It Up (2)
6) T-Pain feat. Mike Jones ¤ I'm N Luv With A Stripper (7)

5) Ne-Yo ¤ So Sick (14)*
4) Kanye West ¤ Touch The Sky (debut)*

3) Franz Ferdinand ¤ The Fallen (5)*

2) the White Stripes ¤ The Denial Twist (1)

1) the All-American Rejects ¤ Move Along (3) {2w}

np: "And Then What" by Young Jeezy feat. Mannie Fresh

Dandy

Come on now, sugar
Bring it on, bring it on, yeah
Just remember me when you're good to go
Come on now, honey
Bring it on, bring it on
Yeah
Just remember me when...

The Sobriety Battle Of Los Angeles

Beverly Hills
That's where I want to be
(gimme gimme gimme gimme)
Living in Beverly Hills
Beverly Hills
Rolling like a celebrity
(gimme gimme gimme gimme)
Living in Beverly Hills
--Weezer, "Beverly Hills"

I don't know.

Holy God.

Maybe technology is killing me from the inside out, or maybe the last part of me that refuses not to believe that this is all self-flagellating rising action before the triumphant denoument. (Don't you guys love the fact I'm a journalism geek? DON'T YOU!?) TV, magazines, websites--all point to The Dream. Ubiquitous, rich, famous, therapied and botoxed out of my flippin' skull, 4 houses, 3 Hummers, 2 girlfriends (one a singer-actress, the other an actress-singer), and my own private island.

Those things have taught me my reality should be nothing but the best--I should've gone up and left two corpses where there once were credit cards, running over and into Jessica Alba as a result, eating dinner together before going to the local karoake bar (selections? "Love And Happiness", "Rock N' Roll Ain't Noise Pollution" around midnight for everybody going nutso drunk off their ass, and closing the joint out with "Let's Get It On" or "Sexual Healing"--depending on the day) and back to her five-star hotel, where despite having my body weight in alcohol I would've put on a display of sexual gymnastics to the point where I would've had to quit my job and take a month-long 17-city nationwide tour to demonstrate the Rosser to the less fortunate. At this very moment her head would be looking over my shoulder as she put her chin against it, pinching me to know when I've gone too far.

See what I mean? CRAZY.

(Of course, all the best things were accomplished by people assumed nuts...)

Anyway, the point before the recap: we are conditioned to think anything less than the peak of awesomeness ceases to be awesome. But there is such a thing as non-demonstrative non-ostentacious really great awesome. It just doesn't get the hype something ludicrously awesome does. It plays Marvin Harrison to Chad Johnson if that helps you.

Saturday and I'm up so fucking early I start regretting not going out the night before and just staying up through it to the end. Like, 7. Trust me, when you set up your college schedule and job to make it so that you usually don't have to be conscious until 9 or 10, let alone out the door at 8, this makes a difference. It's Aaron, Ivan and I going up to la-la to see Amanda. Once there, she's giving us the touristplus treatment.

Butch's Things I've Learned, #47, #48, #49: The only thing I regret about this weekend--not going to the Pulp Fiction diner, Lou's from Fight Club, or Sunnydale High.

We hit the big brother to the north, and here's a surprise: besides a small accident, we make it in a little over two hours. Past Disneyland, Knotts, all that work. Even though she was expecting us a little later, because who the fuck actually says they're going to get from LA to SD in 2.5 and then does so, Amanda is ready to show us about Burbank and the Metropolitan Greater Los Angeles Area. We get some good food at a little mom and pop and then it's off to the damn races. [This part will be greatly enhanced with pictures later in the week, at which point I can remove this sidenote.] Past the Warner Brothers and sister lot, and past DreamWorks, a bunch of divisions of Sony or Warner, past NBC.

Horrifying.

Not just this is where they allow Leno to attempt comedy but there's a row of plus-sizes apparently applying for the Biggest Loser. It's not sad they're fat and willing to trade their dignity for television time; it's sad how long the line is. If it's true life eats souls, this town is the express lane.

Butch's Things I've Learned #5: FUCK LENO.

We go by Sacred Heart, actually, after that--like everything great on TV it looks horribly rundown from the outside, though they were filming. We run around (and miss a golden opportunity to drive into the lot and into infamy shortly followed by County when the security guard crosses the street and leaves the lot, if only for a 10-second-window, open) and then continue onward.

Ambulance, check. Exterior upper, check. Actual logo or sign? Fail (logo was draped off, sign's probably in the back where we didn't get to see anything).

After such a morbid look into the human psyche, it quickly becomes clear that we need to steal a page from the book of Brandon Boyd and drown it out with buzzing lights.

The Walk Of Fame it is.

The Walk Of Fame is a lot less elite than you'd think it'd be, with a lot of repeats. Even so, a few blocks of it is quite entertaining: I mean, someone had the visionary sense to put Hasselhoff and Swayze next to each other and DeanO way down the block from Sammy. Ivan steps on Reitman's name and gets his own star for a moment. I take pictures of many name old-time black celebs' stars for my mom (assuming she'll care), and take my picture with Chris Rock's, pretend to spit on Leno's, and et alsoforthia. Amanda & Ivan get one next to Don Francisco's. Aaron thinks about passing out on Charlie Sheen's, doesn't, and regrets it afterwards. Fun, fun, fun. We stop in a script & poster shop where I buy the pilot of Scrubs. A couple of cut scenes, and the fact Dr. Cox's original name was PHIL!

Butch's Things I've Learned #74,261: Little things make big differences.

I think I speak for every fan of the show when I say that would have never worked ever and they would've been cancelled quicker than you can say "Emily's Reasons Why Not". Still room for you on the show, Heather, but you're the Janitor's girl now.

We also stop in a sex museum for a couple minutes and this is only notable for the noticable blanching of face when Amanda shows Aaron and I the nipple clamps.
***
And now, the real reason anybody worth their salt finds their way to Tinseltown when all you can really be expected to do is look from the outside in--

CELEBRITY STALKING!

Butch's Things I've Learned #674: The Playboy Mansion is very secluded from the public.

Butch's Things I've Learned #4,362: The Osbournes still haven't changed the front gates.

Butch's Things I've Learned #62: Pauly Shore has an inflatable cow in his front yard, tethered down.

Butch's Things I've Learned #78: Halle Berry's house is nice without being ostentacious.

Butch's Things I've Learned #79: I should call ahead to make sure she's there.

Anyway, we spend too much time driving up and down Hillcrest Drive, Charing Cross Road, and four streets all named the same fucking thing (jesus h. vishnu, the highest per capita on the goddamn galaxy and you people can't give your streets different names?!) and deciding whether or not Brittany Murphy's a big enough star for us to go by (isn't...sorry.)

Butch's Things I've Learned #784: Driving by David Spade's house and yelling "Get a real job, hippie!" at the top of your lungs--even if it's Aaron's idea--is still fun.

By the way, looking around at houses in Beverly Hills is like watching your eyes turn into green dollar signs and beating the maxim "The meek shall inherit the earth" to death with a shovel.

There's something about taking Paparazzo 101 that depletes the energy source, so Amanda's the usual 17 steps ahead of us and knows what's on the menu next on the trip.

Amanda and LA being the hosts, the locale becomes just as important as the food.

Three words, loyal reader: Goth Mexican restaurant.

No, really.

The Velvet Margarita Cantina is blacker than I am, and improbably a lot cooler as well. Black mariachi hats turn into a mock chandelier. Velvet paintings of Atlantis hang next to Elvis. Plasma screens play Fantasy Island in French while Elvis saves a villa on the next one over. Despite it filling quickly we're there right as they open; wouldn't you know Amanda could sweet talk a Klan member into moving to Compton and has talked us into reservations while we loitered next door?

I drink a margarita drink, put some salad in my system to break up the debauchery, and then slowly consume my chicken asado tacos. Ivan falls for our awesome red-headed waitress and it's a shame because without me there he probably would've had a shot. She brings out a birthday ice cream and apple empanada platter right after they sweep my dishes. The plate is filled with powdered sugar, which I blow everywhere in the course of making my wish. (Insert Kate Moss joke here.) They have a nice patio in back and little mock shrines to (just remebering the last 3--Bruce Lee, Sid Vicious, and Scarface) between floor and restrooms.

Highest Possible Recommendation.

Back to Amanda's place, where we decompose temporarily.

In an hour, it's back out. If this city never sleeps Saturday night, God only knows what LA's like. Even though we're not hitting The Scene in order to give me something to do next time other than get thrown off of Halle Berry property we are hitting A scene.

Off to the Universal CityWalk we go. It's very Vegasy, and the Latin place is absolutely jumpin', but no time for love, Dr. Jones.

So, it's Howl At The Moon what left this on my right arm palmside down. To get into it: Howl has two guys playing piano. They sing classic songs and dirty songs, and every happy birthday gets punctuated with a rousing en masse YOU BITCH! YOU SLUT! YOU WHORE! It is raucous, loud, and crazy. How Amanda came up with this place for moi is beyond me. We stand sort of on the upper level while groups of people sip from buckets of alcohol (soooooooo what I'm getting next time), and after downing a shot and ordering the mandatory Heinie--

--and looking rather shocked, I must say, that I do such things or at any rate do them this quickly--

Butch's Things I've Learned #126: I'm immune to all the long-term effects of booze, apparently. Told you I was the shit, didn't I?

--but it sure doesn't take long for Amanda to order me up a special shot served up by a chesty blonde who apparently absolutely has to be on my lap to administer the whatever-the-fuck-it-is she dropped down my throat or the responding whipped cream. There is an awesome moment as I remember what else Aaron got not 48 hours before that I also loved the shit out of after the party limped home and suddenly find myself wondering exactly where the ones are supposed to go. Having drank for dinner, during the break, and the second I got the possibility I find myself getting from low buzz to chin music pretty quick. Also should be noted--rum, beer, tequila, at the least. And that's before the couple sitting next to me and in front of us buys me a slippery nipple. Which would find itself ursurped in my Favorite New Drink Discovered This Weekend in a day but c'mon. It's a Werther's Original that you can drink that can fuck you up! Is it any wonder I didn't have the heart to tell them she wasn't my girlfriend? I should be so lucky as to get somebody to rent big-chested blondes for my birthday in the future. Serious, like.

Yes, I did the Robot.

Yes, I did the Running Man.

No, I didn't get to sing.

Yes, I was stinking drunk and closed the fucker out. That's how I roll.

Butch's Things I've Learned #83: If it's worth it, it's worth it until they have to kick you out.

Drunk as I am, Aaron steals the post-game wrapup show by morphing into Barney Gumble and doing a rant pro-candy-cane and anti-harp-seal for the entirety of the way back. It must be said despite never touching a drop of firewater he manages to sound drunker than I actually am. In order to compensate, back at her place I start going up the wrong set of steps and do a belly flop onto her couch. I pause to lay out my sleeping bag and crawl in it, and within five minutes it's ash to ash, dust to dust, fade to blaaaaaaaaaaack...
***
8:32. Hellllllllllllll no.

9:57. No.

11:17. There we go.

Aaron went into the trip on just enough sleep to drive him insane, is hibernating. I read Rolling Stone as Ivan and Amanda come out of the woodwork. Once Aaron's up, I shower. (Song choices: "Sugar, We're Going Down", "Rock And Roll Ain't Noise Pollution", and "Take Me To The River" as I shaved the beard.)

It takes us a while to get going, but Amanda's down the block from a highly-respected eatery named Hill Street Something-Or-Other. Yes, I said "Let's be careful in there" as we pulled in. I decide to have some Belgian waffle with my syrup and butter. Knott's makes an apple cinnamon jelly that tastes like the inside of an apple pie and I think I will be licking some off of Jess or Katherine in the dream this evening when I kill off this post.

We get back and watch the end of the Matrix. I was thinking we should've gone out to see the 3 places we missed I wanted to hit, buuuuuuuuuut...

Butch's Things I've Learned #4,171: Passing out + bread + syrup + real butter = groggy.

After a bit, we start playing Illuminati Poker. It's the version of Texas Hold 'Em you've heard me write about a couple of times where land, people, superpowers are bet in lieu of cash. It only gets named tonight because of a joke I told after Amanda bitchslapped Ivan with a full house and got Oprah and Bill Gates' net worths amongst other winnings...

B: I was going to say after you won that hand, you've become a member of the Illuminati, but now I think you are the Illuminati!

(not pictured: light bulb)

So it's going well as I deal and drink while Amanda quietly and then overwhelmingly takes the boys down, and then her roomate Kataneh gets involved.

This is still a family-friendly post, I swear it.

But in keeping with the motif of the evening...

Butch's Things I've Learned #3: Hot women are trouble.

Butch's Things I've Learned: #4: Hot women with poker knowledge, as more attractive as that may make them, are real trouble.

Butch's Things I've Learned #6: It would be real nice if you were informed they won a tournament in Vegas before you actually start playing against them.

Aaron gets the final hand winner-takes-everything-awesome-ever-in-perpetuity-through-the-universe in the last hand of IllumiPoker (Ha! I've already shortened my own phrase! I am so riding my nut right now.) Kataneh is practically begging to play us for money, but even without it I go out first. (Qs and As vs. Amanda's flush draw, and Al Green gave it to her.) Ivan goes out shortly after. I don't really care, as he has introduced me to Amaretto.

Butch's Things I've Learned #36: Amaretto--ain't nothing wrong with THAT!

Aaron is left to defend the entirety of the male species against the girls. Kataneh shakes him like a British nanny and shortly thereafter gets rid of Amanda. I think she goes into the Hot Friends Of Friends Mt. Rushmore (who're the other 3 names? Oh, I'll never tell. 8 letters, 6 letters, 5 letters.) first-ballot. Though for my immediate future, using Amanda to spot the marks in Vegas should work much better.

After Irvine but before San Diego...a nice way of saying it all looked the same to me...I thought about both towns, and all the friends, and all the small and big presents. I complain so much because my destiny isn't quite fulfilled. And for everything good I have I see the bad moon on the rise for it. Not this time. I stared off into the sky and the spattering of stars, and thought about my friends being my family.

I spent most of the ride home quietly overjoyed and nearly overwhelmed; Adam Duritz told me to hold on to these moments as they pass and I believe him.

And so before we go our seperate ways, I get the moment I was denied in the CityWalk.

Happy birthday to me (butch)
Happy birthday to me (butch)
Happy birthday dear butch
YOU BITCH!
YOU SLUT!
YOU WHORE!
Happy birthday to me...
***
Last thought: tomorrow's Valentine's Day. In the immortal words of Christopher Wallace--rest his soul--fuck all you hos.

np: "Smile Like You Mean It" by the Killers

Yesterday, Today, The Past and The Future All Horribly Colliding In One Shot

The party yesterday went all right--well, okay, I fucked it up failing to get reservations. In my defense?

1) I wasn't expecting it to be packed on Thursday night. Never underestimate a $5 pint night within throwing distance of a major party college.
2) I expected 6 people to show up and throughout the evening peaked at 10. So not everybody sat down, or together, and it was like chorus-verse-verse-verse-instrumental-chorus-instrumental-verse. Next year, I'm not planning shit--I got the luck of an Arrested Development cast member. Probably Buster.

But I did get 4 awesome DVDs and the Bill Simmons book, the management was kind enough to fix my heater for the first time since Thanksgiving so I suppose I can't be too perturbed.

Up to LA, back Sunday, pictures next weekish at some point.

Random Thought:
The SI Swimsuit Issue is played out. It was pre-FHM, Maxim, Loaded, and a billion other men's mags I know for 4 seconds a month based off cover only, let alone the increasingly splintered mags appealing to race and age as a unit. It came in February, so it hit a maximum number of East Coasters suffering through another winter. (Unrelated Random Thought: every time I see the word "winter" after 20+ in SoCal, I suddenly turn into Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer. "What is this hail you speak of? I'm just a simple black man who saw a torrent from the sky and became afraid God was choosing golf as a leisure option...") It was once a year, and since SI was the Bible before the Internet ("If there was no pornography on the Internet, there'd be one website left and it'd be called BRING BACK THE PORN"--Cox) that was pretty much it for hot chicks wearing not much.

Internet.

Men's mags.

The proliferation of cable.

chipchipchipchip--like having a bad breakup, a spoon, and Ben & Jerry's. You think that pint's lasting forever and then you hear the scrape of metal on recycled material and it's like WTF!? My late uncle and I used to love playing Keep Away From Mom with it, and now that it's coming out, I find myself barely able to rent a fuck, let alone give one.

Probably because my Stuff got here a couple days ago, and I don't know if you know this, but this Stacy Keibler chick has quite the tush.

Anyway, hello it's me, I'm not at home...etsoforthia. (Sorry, Lance.)

np: "Touch The Sky" by Kanye

3³

There was a place
And the name of the place escapes me
When I can't remember, it irritates me
Could be I can't remember
Could be I choose to not
Let's move along the song and try to find a plot
There was a girl
And I don't know her name either
She gave me love and I said I'd never leave her
If I did, I'd come back someday and find her
Maybe I will, I should write down a reminder

ONE DAY
One day who knows?
SOMEDAY
Someday I suppose

There was a verse that I was gonna write
I haven't yet
But there's still a chance I might
An open book that I still want to close
I'll find the time someday I suppose
A place and time I wanna be
And spend a storyline that's happy in the end
Plans are made with promises so certainly uncertain
I can't wait to set things straight before they draw the curtain

ONE DAY
One day who knows?
SOMEDAY
Someday I suppose
The more I sort it out
The more things get distorted
I sort of think I'm better off just leaving it unsorted
The more I try to change its course the more off course it goes
Of course I'll reach my destination someday I suppose
Sort it out, get distorted
One day who knows?
Hide behind unreported
Someday I suppose

There was a place
And the name of the place escapes me
When I can't remember, it irritates me
Could be I can't remember
Could be I choose to not
Let's move this song along and try to find a plot
There was a girl
And I don't know her name either
She gave me love and I said I'd never leave her
If I did, I'd come back someday and find her
Maybe I will, I should write down a reminder

ONE DAY
One day who knows?
SOMEDAY
Someday I suppose
The more I sort it out
The more things get distorted
I sort of think I'm better off just leaving it unsorted
The more I try to change its course the more off course it goes
Of course I'll reach my destination someday I suppose
Sort it out, get distorted (The more I sort it out, the more things get distorted)
One day who knows? (I sort of think I'm better off just leaving it unsorted)
Hide behind, unreported (The more I try to change its course the more off course it goes)
Someday I suppose... (I know I'll reach my destination)

--the Mighty Mighty Bosstones, "Someday I Suppose"

Everything Has Come To Life

Since the original Bell-Mars dream sequence post, Aaron's been watching them film upcoming episodes on campus, and the Center's been featured (the parking garage from last week and the exterior shot), and now this...

...coming soon to a newsstand near you. Could've sworn I was thinking that just days ago.

Dupin, it's starting to get closer to when than if...

np: "1999" Limp Bizkit cover

KWBR

SEND ME ON MY WAY:
"The Flute Song" (10)
"Do You Want To" (13)
"I Know You Don't Love Me" (14)
"Run It (remix)" (15)

15) Young Jeezy ¤ Trap Star (debut)
14) Ne-Yo ¤ So Sick (debut)
13) Juvenile ¤ Rodeo (12)
12) the Bravery ¤ Unconditional (9)
11) Fall Out Boy ¤ Dance, Dance (6)

10) Matisyahu ¤ King Without A Crown (11)
9) Young Jeezy ¤ My Hood (debut)
8) Dem Franchize Boyz feat. Jermaine Dupri, Da Brat & Bow Wow ¤ I Think They Like Me [remix] (5)
7) T-Pain feat. Mike Jones ¤ I'm 'N Luv With A Stripper (8)*
6) Juelz Santana ¤ There It Go [The Whistle Song] (3)

5) Franz Ferdinand ¤ The Fallen (7)*
4) Three Six Mafia feat. Eightball, MJG, & Young Buck ¤ Stay Fly (1)

3) the All-American Rejects ¤ Move Along (debut)

2) Chamillionaire feat. Lil' Flip ¤ Turn It Up (4)*

1) the White Stripes ¤ The Denial Twist (2) {2w}

np: "Sloop John B" by the Beach Boys

Friday Barometer™

More out of a sense of obligation than anything else...

ALBA: I remember in the first one of the year I was supposed to pimp an old school jam in here every week. I forgot until a couple days ago. So I'll try to get back on track, and considering what's on the radio I think this'll be a fun throwback. Butch's Old Skool Pick of the Week: Mary J. Blige's "Real Love".

BUSH: Payday. A 911 of a payday. If I cashed the whole thing in to get with a hooker, I would have to worry about her dental plan, let's just say that.

BUSH: The lack of money is sort of taking me down a couple paces considering in the next week and a half there's the Super Bowl, my birthday party (both local and LA), and hunting for other horribly disfigured singles for Valentine's, to say nothing of February 15th, the Christmas of candy.

ALBA: Down as I feel about it at this second, the fact remains: Super Bowl birthday party birthday party maybe getting out there for V-Day. Still should be good times.

ALBA: I could always get my taxes done if I get really hard up for cash. Ah, to have no dependents...

ALBA: ...but just barely, being single at Valentine's. I don't find myself filled with my usual amount of vitriolic anger. Of course, they could be having National White Day and I'd have the same level of involvement this year. As much as I keep reminding myself that I shouldn't force things for the sake of it, I always end up not forcing them.

BUSH: How come Aaron gets to see them film Veronica Mars? Nigga doesn't even watch the show! He wouldn't know Logan Echolls from Logan's Run! Bah.

ALBA: I like the shirt I got for 20% of it's original price last week; so taking it to L.A.

np: "Sheep Go To Heaven" by Cake

Street Value: 5,000 Words

Insert 11-notch rise joke here.

np: "Right Thurr" by Chingy

The Birthday Party V.I.P. List: February '06

1. Jessica Alba (retains)
2. Trish Stratus (2)
3. Eva Longoria (4)
4. Katherine Heigl (9)*
5. JLH (6)
6. Shakira (5)
7. Stacy Keibler (18)
8. Jessica Biel (8)*
9. Assa Guerass (™ Orangio Inc.) (7)
10. Salma Hayek (10)
11. Jennifer Walcott (15)*
12. Halle Berry (11)
13. Brooke Burke (13)
14. Kate Beckinsale (debut)
15. Josie Maran (19)
16. Charisma Carpenter (20)
17. Rachel Bilson (16)
18. Carmen Electra (17)
19. Summer Altice (12)
20. Sofia Vergara (24)
21. Raquel Gibson (25)
22. Kim Smith (14)
23. Mayra Veronica (29)*
24. Shannon Elizabeth (23)
25. Lacey Chabert (28)
26. Alyssa Milano (27)
27. Gail Kim (32)*
28. Gabrielle Union (26)
29. Mariah Carey (35)*
30. Nikki Cox (22)
31. Kristen Bell (debut)
32. Beyonce (21)
33. Jessica Simpson (30)
34. Scarlett Johansson (debut)
35. Eliza Dushku (re-entry)
36. Jamie Pressly (re-entry)
37. Rachel McAdams (39)
38. Esther Baxter (31)
39. Monica Bellucci (re-entry)
40. Michelle Trachtenberg (debut)

ALSO RECEIVING VOTES:
Sarah Shahi, Lindsay Lohan, Natalie Portman, Mickie James, Alyson Hannigan, Melyssa Ford

DROPPED FROM RANKINGS:
Angelina Jolie (3), Leeann Tweeden (33), Ali Landry (34), Kristanna Loken (37), K.D. Aubert (38), Kelly Hu (40)

np: "Fearless (Richard X remix)" by the Bravery

Friday Barometer™

ALBA: I'm out of old cell phone debt! Done, done, done! No more living in fear of the 10 a.m. wakeup call! No more worrying about that thing before Natalie! Huzzah!

BUSH: No money for a couple days. Still worth it.

ALBA: Aaron, for the major assist.

ALBA: Paying his way to Vegas. I owe him that much. Fig/lit.

ALBA: Hey, by the way, did I mention I'm going to LAS VEGAS for HALLOWEEN!? Once? Well, let me say it again--I'm going to Las Vegas for Halloween! The modern-day American goulash of hedonism and depravity on the holiest of all Pagan holidays! Vegas girls in costumes! STRIPPERS in costumes! More friends! I am less a man than A GOD.

BUSH: ...what the fuck is my costume going to be?

ALBA: Last Saturday. Seriously, that went about as flawless as it could sans me getting digits. I still might've been able to if I'd gotten in sooner and wasn't so busy with all the free shots.

ALBA: Kicking my brother's ass on Madden, 50 (Jags) - 23 (Bengals) to run my record to about 10-0. Two interception returns for TDs right before the half ended killed him. He was up 10-7. And then WHAP. Ah, well.

BUSH: As grown up as I'd like to think I am, I enjoyed that curbstomping entirely too much.

ALBA: "Move Along" by the Rejects. If I'm not working the FOB/AAR concert I may find myself there. Just to visit. Yes.

ALBA: And we are under two weeks to the birthday party!

ALBA: Still in January, two of the three three-month resolutions I've made have either passed or are about to.

BUSH: Got to get back in and get those 3 dates down.

MOTHERFUCKING ALBA!
np: "Love And Happiness" by Al Green

Got Some Dirt On My Shoulder, Could You Brush It Off For Me?

So I catch a bastard of a cold yesterday. I nap off and on all day. I get a bunch of Robitussin in my system. I think about good things in my life, and good things to come. I find since the S thing fizzled out, I should keep my outlook positive. Someone'll appreciate, etf'nc and whatnot. So I do a little mental work for my birthday party (yay, 3 days, 2 towns, sure, that's fine). But then, I start thinking about Vegas. About last year.

About last year.

And by last year, I mean Kelli. Well, mostly. But then I think, how do I top it?

And right before my 1 a.m. nap, fueled on Robitussin, it comes to me.

You want to top last year? I mean, really top it?

What you should do, says Brilliant Voice In My Head, is rachet it up a couple notches and go for Halloween.

That's right.

VEGAS HALLOWEEN.

And we're doubling the running order (we hope), and getting another room at the Grandiose at least. But as is? It's going to cost me $10 less than last year!

Ah, man. To quote one of my favorite currently Incarcerated-Americans, if I was you, I'd hate me too.

np: "Oh Yes" by Juelz Santana

Seven Feet Tall And Bulletproof

• Spent work staring at hot girls for six hours.
• Smoked premium hookah for a couple hours and had The Best Hot Chocolate in the County.
• Starting drinking Goose at a bar.
• Went to my favorite joint and had a few more while my DJ bumped some classic shit for an hour ("Paid In Full" remix, yes, "Juicy", yes, "T.R.O.Y.", yes, "O.P.P". yes, "Scenario" yes, "Me Myself And I", yes, "Going Back To Cali"--LL's, yes, "Rump Shaker" yes, motherfucking "Humpty" just as I was about to request it hell yes and I could keep going...)
• Went to PB after that and waited forever.
• Talked doorman into letting Ivan, Aaron and I in free.
  
• Got really fucked up.
• Freaked girls.
• Had some guy lay down some cash for more shots after he thought it was my birthday.
  
• Made friends.
• Continued getting really fucked up.
• Lost Natalie.
• Found Natalie.
• Traded vicious insults all ride home about Ivan's underage sister vs. my mother.

What'd you do with your Saturday?

KWBR.

Pittsburgh/Carolina, btw.

HE LOVES YOU NOT:
"My Humps" (6)
"Gold Digger" (9)
"My Doorbell" (14)
"Dirty Little Secret" (15)

15) Chris Brown feat. Juelz Santana ¤ Run It [remix] (8)
14) Tony Yayo feat. 50 Cent, Young Buck & Lloyd Banks ¤ I Know You Don't Love Me (11)
13) Franz Ferdinand ¤ Do You Want To (10)
12) Juvenile ¤ Rodeo (13)*
11) Matisyahu ¤ King Without A Crown (7)

10) Alkaholics ¤ The Flute Song (debut)
9) the Bravery ¤ Unconditional (debut)
8) T-Pain feat. Mike Jones ¤ I'm N' Luv With A Stripper (debut)
7) Franz Ferdinand ¤ The Fallen (debut)
6) Fall Out Boy ¤ Dance, Dance (2)

5) Dem Franchize Boyz feat. Jermaine Dupri, Da Brat & Bow Wow ¤ I Think They Like Me [remix] (12)*
4) Chamillionaire feat. Lil' Flip ¤ Turn It Up (4)*

3) Juelz Santana ¤ There It Go [The Whistle Song] (1)

2) the White Stripes ¤ The Denial Twist (5)*

1) Three Six Mafia feat. Eightball, MJG, and Young Buck ¤ Stay Fly (3) [2w]

np: "Waterfalls" by TLC