ALBA: Moving.
BUSH: Family moving. I think Imelda Marcos has been passing herself off as my mother since the nineties, to say nothing of all the bullshit my brother/now roomate has got on him. I came to the realization Tuesday me moving solo would take less time than Goodfellas, exempting the cable, Internet and phone service. I am a complicated man who tries to keep his life simple. Everyone else is nowhere near done.
BUSH: So Steve Irwin dies and Paris Hilton gets arrested and Linday Lohan whips her lips out--and I'm completely Amish during this time period. Faboo.
ALBA: I like the new digs, actually. Pool, air conditioning, 10-minute walk to a semimajor mall with the old grocery store staples I had at the old place. And I've seen more cute neighbors in 3 days then I did the past couple years at the Rosserdence v3.0. Whether they're all legal or not is a story that remains to be told. It's going to be a problem in me staying out Saturday nights; without a ride home I'll need to crash at Grandma's. But the ups outweigh the downs handily so far.
BUSH: So there's six plugs in our room. We're using 2. There's a phone jack we don't need. And we have no cable. And I can't get the basic channels on myour TV yet. "Gee, Homer, you sure seem awfully calm..." "I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL ALL OF YOU!" You guys come back to BR.net and my whole family's slaughtered, I owe you a Coke.
BUSH: The cable in the living room is slightly off, though I haven't figured out how or why yet. And I am at the library doing this because the pins in the mouse aren't getting through to the back and of course, are the last thing standing between Internet access at home and I.
ALBA: I am having quite the library renaissance with all of the unemployed and the need to get the hell away from the family every so often. Maybe the selection's improved. Maybe because I can get a computer with no fuss and non-major waits. Maybe they've hired more hot girls here then I've seen since I realized girls didn't have cooties, or if they did I should be trying to get some. Some combination of the above.
PUSH: Computer's in the living room. I don't have the total autonomy I once did and am going to have to time my NC-17 sites and bytes now; at the same time without it being in my room I won't have to worry about Mom deciding 1:30 is a good time to recheck her e-mail.
ALBA: The Go-Go Mega 8 last Sunday. Actually, this is one of those Swiss doll sort of things (maybe I'm thinking of Russian dolls, non-tennis player division? Someone get back to me on that). Lessee: got so close to the dancers you could see individual abs move while dancing. Check. Saw my hot friend Chloe MC it, even though she could've won. Check. Saw old friends for the first time in over 6 months and this time didn't walk right out into somebody getting homicided? Check. Got unbelievable novel inspiration? Check.
Oh, that. Anyhow, I got there early, and the DJ spun a bunch of old, old shit I love. De La, some Tribe, "It's Like That", "Supersonic"--had I had the hooch in me and/or it have been later it definitely would've been breakdancing time. Said DJ was about 5'3", 100 pounds maybe, and blonde. Cute, too. [This leads into a whole art v. commerce thing of is she cute because she plays De La or does she play De La and happen to be cute--don't know, don't care.] This story--or something inspired by this story--needs to be told. And my NaNo idea has been sitting on the shelf. I think I'm getting into the internal combustion engine, cranking a few gears, and getting that sumbitch back on the road when the time comes. Would've been nice to have more people around, but TWISFI.
ALBA: I don't even need to know how, but Nu Shooz's "I Can't Wait" is becoming a old school club staple. 1) Yes, please. 2) Can you throw on some "Point Of No Return" to bookend it?
BUSH: I'm no medicial expert, but Grandma being .5 away from dialysis--there's no good way to spin that, is there?
ALBA: It's recently come back to my attention the first season of Sports Night was really something.
ALBA: Despite the fact we don't have our own rooms anymore, my brother and I are getting along better than ever. Tuesday, we kept ourselves sane during a ricockulous 14-hour move by playing an offshoot of Dozens called Your TV's So Old... (By the way--giant wood and steel TV. Going down steps. BUSH.) Favorite lines included "...the first time you turned it on, the #1 show was CSI: Bethlehem!", "...it just came in white because black hadn't been invented yet!", "...the first thing you saw was the Olsen Twins eating; then again, it was Full House", and my own and my brother's favorite, "...back then he wasn't Fat Joe, he was Might Like Snacks A Little Too Much Joe".
ALBA: LaVar Arrington comparing the Giants D to VOLTRON, followed by a lengthy explanation of how Voltron works in the article for the uneducated. I hope the Giants win everything ever except when it'd blow up my fantasy teams for that. (Go Skins--more to the point, go Brunell to Moss. Double points, man.)
BUSH: For the love of Alba people, you are not bringing sexy back. Stop it, just stop it. You should be like me and just remain sexy and then that way you don't need to be making no extra trip to bring it back. But what the shit do I know?
ALBA: Right at my time of barrel-scraping, someone will be buying a phone off me tomorrow and reliving some pressure off my self for a little bit. Got another interview Tuesday, maybe a possible job. Gotta stay up on it this weekend.
BUSH: I'm so horribly addicted to the Internet it's not amusing. If I hadn't been so deadassed tired the past few days I might've tried putting a phone jack in my arm to get the high back. At least I know, and knowing is half the battle. I think.
London Bridge (Oh, Shit) Fergie (Butch hears ya. Butch don't care.)
9/2/06
The Last KWBR From Here
DROPS:
The entire bottom third of the last countdown: "Ain't No Other Man", "Work It Out", "Move Along", "Original Fire", and "Number One".
15. I Will Follow You Into The Dark ¤ Death Cab For Cutie (debut)
14. When You Were Young ¤ the Killers (debut)
13. Mr. Me Too ¤ Clipse feat. Pharrell (10)
12. Me & U ¤ Cassie (8)
11. Tell Me Baby ¤ Red Hot Chili Peppers (9)
10. Gone Daddy Gone ¤ Gnarls Barkley (debut)
9. Here It Goes Again ¤ OK Go (debut)
8. It's Goin' Down ¤ Yung Joc (6)
7. U & Dat ¤ E-40 feat. T-Pain (7)*
6. Idlewild Blue (Don't Chu Worry 'Bout Me) ¤ Andre 3000 (debut)
5. Deja Vu ¤ Beyonce feat. Jay-Z (3)
4. Steady, As She Goes ¤ the Raconteurs (4)*
3. Promiscuous ¤ Nelly Furtado feat. Timbaland (2)
2. Sexy Love ¤ Ne-Yo (5)*
1. Crazy ¤ Gnarls Barkley (1) [10w]
Doowutchyalike Digital Underground
The entire bottom third of the last countdown: "Ain't No Other Man", "Work It Out", "Move Along", "Original Fire", and "Number One".
15. I Will Follow You Into The Dark ¤ Death Cab For Cutie (debut)
14. When You Were Young ¤ the Killers (debut)
13. Mr. Me Too ¤ Clipse feat. Pharrell (10)
12. Me & U ¤ Cassie (8)
11. Tell Me Baby ¤ Red Hot Chili Peppers (9)
10. Gone Daddy Gone ¤ Gnarls Barkley (debut)
9. Here It Goes Again ¤ OK Go (debut)
8. It's Goin' Down ¤ Yung Joc (6)
7. U & Dat ¤ E-40 feat. T-Pain (7)*
6. Idlewild Blue (Don't Chu Worry 'Bout Me) ¤ Andre 3000 (debut)
5. Deja Vu ¤ Beyonce feat. Jay-Z (3)
4. Steady, As She Goes ¤ the Raconteurs (4)*
3. Promiscuous ¤ Nelly Furtado feat. Timbaland (2)
2. Sexy Love ¤ Ne-Yo (5)*
1. Crazy ¤ Gnarls Barkley (1) [10w]
Doowutchyalike Digital Underground
8/30/06
I [heart] Olbermann
Check the title. KMB put me up on it, and I'm watching it now, and now I'm sending it to you:
= = = = =
The man who sees absolutes, where all other men see nuances and shades of meaning, is either a prophet, or a quack.
Donald H. Rumsfeld is not a prophet.
Mr. Rumsfeld’s remarkable speech to the American Legion yesterday demands the deep analysis—and the sober contemplation—of every American.
For it did not merely serve to impugn the morality or intelligence -- indeed, the loyalty -- of the majority of Americans who oppose the transient occupants of the highest offices in the land. Worse, still, it credits those same transient occupants -- our employees -- with a total omniscience; a total omniscience which neither common sense, nor this administration’s track record at home or abroad, suggests they deserve.
Dissent and disagreement with government is the life’s blood of human freedom; and not merely because it is the first roadblock against the kind of tyranny the men Mr. Rumsfeld likes to think of as “his” troops still fight, this very evening, in Iraq.
It is also essential. Because just every once in awhile it is right and the power to which it speaks, is wrong.
In a small irony, however, Mr. Rumsfeld’s speechwriter was adroit in invoking the memory of the appeasement of the Nazis. For in their time, there was another government faced with true peril—with a growing evil—powerful and remorseless.
That government, like Mr. Rumsfeld’s, had a monopoly on all the facts. It, too, had the “secret information.” It alone had the true picture of the threat. It too dismissed and insulted its critics in terms like Mr. Rumsfeld’s -- questioning their intellect and their morality.
That government was England’s, in the 1930’s.
It knew Hitler posed no true threat to Europe, let alone England.
It knew Germany was not re-arming, in violation of all treaties and accords.
It knew that the hard evidence it received, which contradicted its own policies, its own conclusions — its own omniscience -- needed to be dismissed.
The English government of Neville Chamberlain already knew the truth.
Most relevant of all — it “knew” that its staunchest critics needed to be marginalized and isolated. In fact, it portrayed the foremost of them as a blood-thirsty war-monger who was, if not truly senile, at best morally or intellectually confused.
That critic’s name was Winston Churchill.
Sadly, we have no Winston Churchills evident among us this evening. We have only Donald Rumsfelds, demonizing disagreement, the way Neville Chamberlain demonized Winston Churchill.
History — and 163 million pounds of Luftwaffe bombs over England — have taught us that all Mr. Chamberlain had was his certainty — and his own confusion. A confusion that suggested that the office can not only make the man, but that the office can also make the facts.
Thus did Mr. Rumsfeld make an apt historical analogy.
Excepting the fact that he has the battery plugged in backwards.
His government, absolute -- and exclusive -- in its knowledge, is not the modern version of the one which stood up to the Nazis.
It is the modern version of the government of Neville Chamberlain.
But back to today’s Omniscient ones.
That about which Mr. Rumsfeld is confused is simply this: This is a Democracy. Still. Sometimes just barely.
And, as such, all voices count -- not just his.
Had he or his president perhaps proven any of their prior claims of omniscience — about Osama Bin Laden’s plans five years ago, about Saddam Hussein’s weapons four years ago, about Hurricane Katrina’s impact one year ago — we all might be able to swallow hard, and accept their “omniscience” as a bearable, even useful recipe, of fact plus ego.
But, to date, this government has proved little besides its own arrogance, and its own hubris.
Mr. Rumsfeld is also personally confused, morally or intellectually, about his own standing in this matter. From Iraq to Katrina, to the entire “Fog of Fear” which continues to envelop this nation, he, Mr. Bush, Mr. Cheney, and their cronies have — inadvertently or intentionally — profited and benefited, both personally, and politically.
And yet he can stand up, in public, and question the morality and the intellect of those of us who dare ask just for the receipt for the Emporer’s New Clothes?
In what country was Mr. Rumsfeld raised? As a child, of whose heroism did he read? On what side of the battle for freedom did he dream one day to fight? With what country has he confused the United States of America?
The confusion we -- as its citizens— must now address, is stark and forbidding.
But variations of it have faced our forefathers, when men like Nixon and McCarthy and Curtis LeMay have darkened our skies and obscured our flag. Note -- with hope in your heart — that those earlier Americans always found their way to the light, and we can, too.
The confusion is about whether this Secretary of Defense, and this administration, are in fact now accomplishing what they claim the terrorists seek: The destruction of our freedoms, the very ones for which the same veterans Mr. Rumsfeld addressed yesterday in Salt Lake City, so valiantly fought.
And about Mr. Rumsfeld’s other main assertion, that this country faces a “new type of fascism.”
As he was correct to remind us how a government that knew everything could get everything wrong, so too was he right when he said that -- though probably not in the way he thought he meant it.
This country faces a new type of fascism - indeed.
Although I presumptuously use his sign-off each night, in feeble tribute, I have utterly no claim to the words of the exemplary journalist Edward R. Murrow.
But never in the trial of a thousand years of writing could I come close to matching how he phrased a warning to an earlier generation of us, at a time when other politicians thought they (and they alone) knew everything, and branded those who disagreed: “confused” or “immoral.”
Thus, forgive me, for reading Murrow, in full:
“We must not confuse dissent with disloyalty,” he said, in 1954. “We must remember always that accusation is not proof, and that conviction depends upon evidence and due process of law.
“We will not walk in fear, one of another. We will not be driven by fear into an age of unreason, if we dig deep in our history and our doctrine, and remember that we are not descended from fearful men, not from men who feared to write, to speak, to associate, and to defend causes that were for the moment unpopular.”
And so good night, and good luck.
= = = = =
The man who sees absolutes, where all other men see nuances and shades of meaning, is either a prophet, or a quack.
Donald H. Rumsfeld is not a prophet.
Mr. Rumsfeld’s remarkable speech to the American Legion yesterday demands the deep analysis—and the sober contemplation—of every American.
For it did not merely serve to impugn the morality or intelligence -- indeed, the loyalty -- of the majority of Americans who oppose the transient occupants of the highest offices in the land. Worse, still, it credits those same transient occupants -- our employees -- with a total omniscience; a total omniscience which neither common sense, nor this administration’s track record at home or abroad, suggests they deserve.
Dissent and disagreement with government is the life’s blood of human freedom; and not merely because it is the first roadblock against the kind of tyranny the men Mr. Rumsfeld likes to think of as “his” troops still fight, this very evening, in Iraq.
It is also essential. Because just every once in awhile it is right and the power to which it speaks, is wrong.
In a small irony, however, Mr. Rumsfeld’s speechwriter was adroit in invoking the memory of the appeasement of the Nazis. For in their time, there was another government faced with true peril—with a growing evil—powerful and remorseless.
That government, like Mr. Rumsfeld’s, had a monopoly on all the facts. It, too, had the “secret information.” It alone had the true picture of the threat. It too dismissed and insulted its critics in terms like Mr. Rumsfeld’s -- questioning their intellect and their morality.
That government was England’s, in the 1930’s.
It knew Hitler posed no true threat to Europe, let alone England.
It knew Germany was not re-arming, in violation of all treaties and accords.
It knew that the hard evidence it received, which contradicted its own policies, its own conclusions — its own omniscience -- needed to be dismissed.
The English government of Neville Chamberlain already knew the truth.
Most relevant of all — it “knew” that its staunchest critics needed to be marginalized and isolated. In fact, it portrayed the foremost of them as a blood-thirsty war-monger who was, if not truly senile, at best morally or intellectually confused.
That critic’s name was Winston Churchill.
Sadly, we have no Winston Churchills evident among us this evening. We have only Donald Rumsfelds, demonizing disagreement, the way Neville Chamberlain demonized Winston Churchill.
History — and 163 million pounds of Luftwaffe bombs over England — have taught us that all Mr. Chamberlain had was his certainty — and his own confusion. A confusion that suggested that the office can not only make the man, but that the office can also make the facts.
Thus did Mr. Rumsfeld make an apt historical analogy.
Excepting the fact that he has the battery plugged in backwards.
His government, absolute -- and exclusive -- in its knowledge, is not the modern version of the one which stood up to the Nazis.
It is the modern version of the government of Neville Chamberlain.
But back to today’s Omniscient ones.
That about which Mr. Rumsfeld is confused is simply this: This is a Democracy. Still. Sometimes just barely.
And, as such, all voices count -- not just his.
Had he or his president perhaps proven any of their prior claims of omniscience — about Osama Bin Laden’s plans five years ago, about Saddam Hussein’s weapons four years ago, about Hurricane Katrina’s impact one year ago — we all might be able to swallow hard, and accept their “omniscience” as a bearable, even useful recipe, of fact plus ego.
But, to date, this government has proved little besides its own arrogance, and its own hubris.
Mr. Rumsfeld is also personally confused, morally or intellectually, about his own standing in this matter. From Iraq to Katrina, to the entire “Fog of Fear” which continues to envelop this nation, he, Mr. Bush, Mr. Cheney, and their cronies have — inadvertently or intentionally — profited and benefited, both personally, and politically.
And yet he can stand up, in public, and question the morality and the intellect of those of us who dare ask just for the receipt for the Emporer’s New Clothes?
In what country was Mr. Rumsfeld raised? As a child, of whose heroism did he read? On what side of the battle for freedom did he dream one day to fight? With what country has he confused the United States of America?
The confusion we -- as its citizens— must now address, is stark and forbidding.
But variations of it have faced our forefathers, when men like Nixon and McCarthy and Curtis LeMay have darkened our skies and obscured our flag. Note -- with hope in your heart — that those earlier Americans always found their way to the light, and we can, too.
The confusion is about whether this Secretary of Defense, and this administration, are in fact now accomplishing what they claim the terrorists seek: The destruction of our freedoms, the very ones for which the same veterans Mr. Rumsfeld addressed yesterday in Salt Lake City, so valiantly fought.
And about Mr. Rumsfeld’s other main assertion, that this country faces a “new type of fascism.”
As he was correct to remind us how a government that knew everything could get everything wrong, so too was he right when he said that -- though probably not in the way he thought he meant it.
This country faces a new type of fascism - indeed.
Although I presumptuously use his sign-off each night, in feeble tribute, I have utterly no claim to the words of the exemplary journalist Edward R. Murrow.
But never in the trial of a thousand years of writing could I come close to matching how he phrased a warning to an earlier generation of us, at a time when other politicians thought they (and they alone) knew everything, and branded those who disagreed: “confused” or “immoral.”
Thus, forgive me, for reading Murrow, in full:
“We must not confuse dissent with disloyalty,” he said, in 1954. “We must remember always that accusation is not proof, and that conviction depends upon evidence and due process of law.
“We will not walk in fear, one of another. We will not be driven by fear into an age of unreason, if we dig deep in our history and our doctrine, and remember that we are not descended from fearful men, not from men who feared to write, to speak, to associate, and to defend causes that were for the moment unpopular.”
And so good night, and good luck.
My Doorbell the White Stripes
8/25/06
SSSSSSSSSomething Like A Phenomenon
All right.
After the hitch I got roped into on its Opening Night, I finally caught the last show tonight to see the movie everybody's been talking about all summer.
Superman Returns? No.
Pirates 2: Eclectic Water Crew? Pshaw.
Lady In the Water? C'mon.
Let me just sum up the thing as it sums up itself.
Snakes. On. A. Mother. Fuckin'. Plane.
It's not Citizen Kane. Because, for one, Citizen Kane is fucking overrated. You heard me. And secondly, this isn't a comedy where the good stuff all got thrown in the trailer, and it's not a romantic comedy that makes you want to vomit, and it's not a drama trying to be Shakespeare, and it's not a remake of some movie that was way better 30 years ago that never should've been remade to begin with.
It is what it is. Snakes On A Plane.
And you know what the thing of it is?
It actually...doesn't suck. The stereotypes are there and gleefully hammed up, there are tons of pointless deaths, the snakes go crazy and bite everything not named Samuel L. Jackson, there's a bunch of hot babes standing around for no good reason in the background and eventually the main players survive and decide to celebrate their still living by hooking up. But on the way, you know what happens--especially if you know what you're getting into beforehand?
You have a metric shitload of fun. I mean, it scared my friend that I was with a few times, but you got to play MST3K for the rest, Samuel does his Samuel thing, shit blows up, and you too can horrify and amuse a movie theater by yelling out THE LINE the same time he does.
I've seen at least a dozen movies in the past 18 months I was "supposed to" like more than this goofy little thing, but this goofy little thing knows what it is, embraces it, bathes in it, and says, "Hey, c'mon, it's okay, you, too."
Expect the basic canons of horror movies to be in there and tweaked, even get a little high or drunk (I probably would be saying this is the BEST MOVIE EVAH~!! had I done either or both of those things), grab your friends (because seeing this alone is I'm convinced like going to see Rocky Horror alone), if you're squeamish check your barf bag, and just sit back and enjoy.
***.
Song With A Mission the Sounds
After the hitch I got roped into on its Opening Night, I finally caught the last show tonight to see the movie everybody's been talking about all summer.
Superman Returns? No.
Pirates 2: Eclectic Water Crew? Pshaw.
Lady In the Water? C'mon.
Let me just sum up the thing as it sums up itself.
Snakes. On. A. Mother. Fuckin'. Plane.
It's not Citizen Kane. Because, for one, Citizen Kane is fucking overrated. You heard me. And secondly, this isn't a comedy where the good stuff all got thrown in the trailer, and it's not a romantic comedy that makes you want to vomit, and it's not a drama trying to be Shakespeare, and it's not a remake of some movie that was way better 30 years ago that never should've been remade to begin with.
It is what it is. Snakes On A Plane.
And you know what the thing of it is?
It actually...doesn't suck. The stereotypes are there and gleefully hammed up, there are tons of pointless deaths, the snakes go crazy and bite everything not named Samuel L. Jackson, there's a bunch of hot babes standing around for no good reason in the background and eventually the main players survive and decide to celebrate their still living by hooking up. But on the way, you know what happens--especially if you know what you're getting into beforehand?
You have a metric shitload of fun. I mean, it scared my friend that I was with a few times, but you got to play MST3K for the rest, Samuel does his Samuel thing, shit blows up, and you too can horrify and amuse a movie theater by yelling out THE LINE the same time he does.
I've seen at least a dozen movies in the past 18 months I was "supposed to" like more than this goofy little thing, but this goofy little thing knows what it is, embraces it, bathes in it, and says, "Hey, c'mon, it's okay, you, too."
Expect the basic canons of horror movies to be in there and tweaked, even get a little high or drunk (I probably would be saying this is the BEST MOVIE EVAH~!! had I done either or both of those things), grab your friends (because seeing this alone is I'm convinced like going to see Rocky Horror alone), if you're squeamish check your barf bag, and just sit back and enjoy.
***.
Song With A Mission the Sounds
8/23/06
The Girls Of Summer*
*In one case, the girl is Summer. But I digress.
DROPPED:
Anna Kournikova [34]
Gabrielle Union [37]
Take On Me Reel Big Fish
- Jessica Alba, duh (1)
- Jessica Biel (21)*
- Eva Longoria (3)
- Trish Stratus (4)
- Angelina Jolie (2)
- Kate Beckinsale (6)*
- Salma Hayek (9)
- Kristen Bell (32)*
- JLH (8)
- Jennifer Walcott (5)
- Stacy Keibler (7)
- Shakira (10)
- Raquel Gibson (14)*
- Katherine Heigl (13)
- Marisa Miller (30)*
- Scarlett Johansson (23)*
- Beyonce (11)
- Charisma Carpenter (12)
- Brooke Burke (16)
- Halle Berry (15)
- Sofia Vergara (19)
- Kim Smith (18)
- Vida Guerra (17)
- C.J. Gibson (26)*
- Elizabeth Hurley (25)*
- Mariah Carey (20)
- Mayra Veronica (28)
- Monica Bellucci (36)
- Sarah Shahi (24)
- Summer Altice (22)
- Vanessa Minillo (38)*
- Jamie Pressly (33)
- Keira Knightley (27)
- Esther Baxter (28)
- Eva Mendes (39)
- Petra Nemcova (40)
- Lacey Chabert (35)
- Adriana Lima (return)
- Carmen Electra (31)
- Kelly Hu (return)
DROPPED:
Anna Kournikova [34]
Gabrielle Union [37]
Take On Me Reel Big Fish
8/19/06
KWBR
DROPS:
"Life Wasted", 9
"Where'd You Go", 11
"I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor", 15
15. Pharrell feat. Kanye West's "Number 1" (5)
14. Audioslave's "Original Fire" (debut)
13. the All-American Rejects' "Move Along" (14)
12. Jurassic 5 feat. Dave Matthews' "Work It Out" (debut)
11. Christina Aguilera's "Ain't No Other Man" (10)
10. Clipse feat. Pharrell's "Mr. Me Too" (12)*
9. Red Hot Chili Peppers' "Tell Me Baby" (debut)
8. Cassie's "Me & U" (7)
7. E-40 feat. T-Pain's "U & Dat" (13)*
6. Yung Joc's "It's Goin' Down" (1)
5. Ne-Yo's "Sexy Love" (8)*
4. the Raconteurs' "Steady, As She Goes" (5)*
3. Beyonce feat. Jay-Z's "Deja Vu" (4)*
2. Nelly Furtado feat. Timbaland's "Promiscuous" (3)*
1. Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy" (2) [2nd time; 2 months total]
Snakes On A Plane (Bring It) Cobra Starship
"Life Wasted", 9
"Where'd You Go", 11
"I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor", 15
15. Pharrell feat. Kanye West's "Number 1" (5)
14. Audioslave's "Original Fire" (debut)
13. the All-American Rejects' "Move Along" (14)
12. Jurassic 5 feat. Dave Matthews' "Work It Out" (debut)
11. Christina Aguilera's "Ain't No Other Man" (10)
10. Clipse feat. Pharrell's "Mr. Me Too" (12)*
9. Red Hot Chili Peppers' "Tell Me Baby" (debut)
8. Cassie's "Me & U" (7)
7. E-40 feat. T-Pain's "U & Dat" (13)*
6. Yung Joc's "It's Goin' Down" (1)
5. Ne-Yo's "Sexy Love" (8)*
4. the Raconteurs' "Steady, As She Goes" (5)*
3. Beyonce feat. Jay-Z's "Deja Vu" (4)*
2. Nelly Furtado feat. Timbaland's "Promiscuous" (3)*
1. Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy" (2) [2nd time; 2 months total]
Snakes On A Plane (Bring It) Cobra Starship
8/16/06
Miss Jessica Biel, Please Pick Up Your Ghetto Pass
1) LA face. With an Oakland booty. Ye gods.
2) I was going to post about how I got screwed over in my Fafarazzi league, but I'm trying to dump Bono and Clay Aiken for more reliable point-scores Tara Reid and Pete Doherty.
That sentence is awesome.
ADDENDUM: Some previous posts have referenced a place called Confidential and a bartender named Jennifer who I deemed hottest in the county. I will now be turning off the All-American Rejects; it's no longer my dirty little secret.
2) I was going to post about how I got screwed over in my Fafarazzi league, but I'm trying to dump Bono and Clay Aiken for more reliable point-scores Tara Reid and Pete Doherty.
That sentence is awesome.
ADDENDUM: Some previous posts have referenced a place called Confidential and a bartender named Jennifer who I deemed hottest in the county. I will now be turning off the All-American Rejects; it's no longer my dirty little secret.
8/10/06
Finally, I Can Put All This Useless Knowledge To Use!
So, I'm in a celebrity fantasy league. Points and everything.
And if you as a friend of the Empire of Rosser would like me to kick your monkey ass, find the private league Celebs On A Blog, use firecrotch as the password, and sit back and wait for the smacktalk to begin.
The Gibson Conspiracy Theorists look forward to 0w1ng j00.
By The Time I Get To Arizona Public Enemy
And if you as a friend of the Empire of Rosser would like me to kick your monkey ass, find the private league Celebs On A Blog, use firecrotch as the password, and sit back and wait for the smacktalk to begin.
The Gibson Conspiracy Theorists look forward to 0w1ng j00.
By The Time I Get To Arizona Public Enemy
8/9/06
Hustler's Ambition
Yeah.
So I got up this morning and decided I was going to go out into the world and continue job hunting. I've been sleeping in my bed a lot more recently with my brother picking up some Grandma slack and I swear my posture and demeanor is a lot better for it. I swore I was going to have a nice quiet Saturday at home but then I found out DJ Spider was coming to town late Saturday night at On Broadway and since I can get in on the sly...well, at least next weekend I can have that nice quiet (boring?) Saturday night at home.
I went to a local mall, and found everything lacking. So I left and went to a job fair for a major hotel reopening. I had one interview where I started off below average but was coming on at the end. Then I was asked if I could hang around for another interview. Gotta be a good sign. I was texting my friend Meagan about how she'd missed out last Saturday but could make it up this Saturday. And then she couldn't. So I mocked her some more. And then the second interview. This was with a different woman a rung or two up the ladder and I was able to make her chuckle and impress her with some tales of the wilder situations I had to handle at the Center. That one goes about 10 or 15, and then they ask if I can hang around for a third interview and now I'm thinking I am Flynn. So I wait and keep taunting her. She says she's got a weekend before Hawaii, you want to go out then? Yes, it's next Saturday. She hasn't been to my favorite club in town (Stingaree--check February for that history), and now as I close that deal it's Interview #3 with the Director of Public Operations.
SO Flynn.
Anyway, the opening is the ridculousness of how I got fired and I explain the whole thing. He laughs at them. Not chuckles, full-on laughs about me getting 24x pay on a suspension and all of that. He says something like maybe subconsciously I was prompting myself to move on, and how the right opportunities spring out bad times if you work right. He finds my week-long unemployment hilarious, because I'm sure he's heard some sob stories over the past couple days and this kid's opening up laughing about his firing and is barely unemployed. PLUS he laughed at "Nothing that wouldn't get me fired". Then, he explains the job, which is like my old job with a couple of tweaks and a better uniform. Oh, and paying $11.75 an hour (I overheard...whoopsie!). So I'm finishing a lot of his sentences because I see the vision, and I would only be dealing with 500ish people because it's so exclusive. Twenty minute third interview, and he's stressing about making sure my address & cell # is correct. You tell me I'm not in.
Then I hit the mall (different) to get myself up to one of them there buhrightos and I run into my friend Stella and she recognizes me from the English class we had togther. Thirty minutes later I have an escort to see DJ Spider at On Broadway. And what I'd get? A couple of T-Mobiles that'll be activated in a month, with no upfront charges. Yup. A couple. My Verizon deal ends on Christmas Eve, so that might be ugly for a little bit. I think it's cheaper for me to stay on instead of breaking off and paying that fee until the hotel money comes in. 1000 minutes, which'll come in handy once I'm unsingle again. They aren't cameraphones, I think, so I may sell one or both of them.
And even with those, I was lucky enough to stop at Borders and then get a couple of slices before Aaron happened to get off while I was in the neighborhood and gave me a ride home. The Earth will provide, I told him simply at the end of this story. The Earth will provide.
Total time spent: 6.5 hours.
I want the finer things in my life, so I hustle
Nigga you get in my way when I'm tryna get mine and I'll buck you...
Wait & Whisper Sexual Healing DJ Spider mixing Marvin Gaye & the Ying Yang Twins
So I got up this morning and decided I was going to go out into the world and continue job hunting. I've been sleeping in my bed a lot more recently with my brother picking up some Grandma slack and I swear my posture and demeanor is a lot better for it. I swore I was going to have a nice quiet Saturday at home but then I found out DJ Spider was coming to town late Saturday night at On Broadway and since I can get in on the sly...well, at least next weekend I can have that nice quiet (boring?) Saturday night at home.
I went to a local mall, and found everything lacking. So I left and went to a job fair for a major hotel reopening. I had one interview where I started off below average but was coming on at the end. Then I was asked if I could hang around for another interview. Gotta be a good sign. I was texting my friend Meagan about how she'd missed out last Saturday but could make it up this Saturday. And then she couldn't. So I mocked her some more. And then the second interview. This was with a different woman a rung or two up the ladder and I was able to make her chuckle and impress her with some tales of the wilder situations I had to handle at the Center. That one goes about 10 or 15, and then they ask if I can hang around for a third interview and now I'm thinking I am Flynn. So I wait and keep taunting her. She says she's got a weekend before Hawaii, you want to go out then? Yes, it's next Saturday. She hasn't been to my favorite club in town (Stingaree--check February for that history), and now as I close that deal it's Interview #3 with the Director of Public Operations.
SO Flynn.
Anyway, the opening is the ridculousness of how I got fired and I explain the whole thing. He laughs at them. Not chuckles, full-on laughs about me getting 24x pay on a suspension and all of that. He says something like maybe subconsciously I was prompting myself to move on, and how the right opportunities spring out bad times if you work right. He finds my week-long unemployment hilarious, because I'm sure he's heard some sob stories over the past couple days and this kid's opening up laughing about his firing and is barely unemployed. PLUS he laughed at "Nothing that wouldn't get me fired". Then, he explains the job, which is like my old job with a couple of tweaks and a better uniform. Oh, and paying $11.75 an hour (I overheard...whoopsie!). So I'm finishing a lot of his sentences because I see the vision, and I would only be dealing with 500ish people because it's so exclusive. Twenty minute third interview, and he's stressing about making sure my address & cell # is correct. You tell me I'm not in.
Then I hit the mall (different) to get myself up to one of them there buhrightos and I run into my friend Stella and she recognizes me from the English class we had togther. Thirty minutes later I have an escort to see DJ Spider at On Broadway. And what I'd get? A couple of T-Mobiles that'll be activated in a month, with no upfront charges. Yup. A couple. My Verizon deal ends on Christmas Eve, so that might be ugly for a little bit. I think it's cheaper for me to stay on instead of breaking off and paying that fee until the hotel money comes in. 1000 minutes, which'll come in handy once I'm unsingle again. They aren't cameraphones, I think, so I may sell one or both of them.
And even with those, I was lucky enough to stop at Borders and then get a couple of slices before Aaron happened to get off while I was in the neighborhood and gave me a ride home. The Earth will provide, I told him simply at the end of this story. The Earth will provide.
Total time spent: 6.5 hours.
I want the finer things in my life, so I hustle
Nigga you get in my way when I'm tryna get mine and I'll buck you...
Wait & Whisper Sexual Healing DJ Spider mixing Marvin Gaye & the Ying Yang Twins
Let Me Put You On The Game: Jessica Burciaga
She did a couple Stuff shoots, she go-go dances, loves puppies, and Disney movies. Well, 3 out of 4 still passes. And so while you wait for the Hot 40 to come out later this week--
It's Not The Fall That Hurts Caesars
It's Not The Fall That Hurts Caesars
8/5/06
KWBR
a) I put the one that was supposed to be up two weeks ago on the MySpace blog. Doubt anyone cares, but you can find the "lost" KWBR if you care to.
b) Instead of a top 4 I nearly went 1a, 1b, 1c, 1d. All my summer anthems are clogging it at the top. Anyhow--
DROPS:
"Gimme That (remix)", 14
15. Arctic Monkeys' "I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor" (15)
14. the All-American Rejects' "Move Along" (12)
13. E-40 feat. T-Pain's "U & Dat" (debut)
12. Clipse feat. Pharrell's "Mr. Me Too" (13)*
11. Fort Minor feat. Holly Brook's "Where'd You Go" (9)
10. Christina Aguilera's "Ain't No Other Man" (10)
9. Pearl Jam's "Life Wasted" (8)
8. Ne-Yo's "Sexy Love" (11)*
7. Cassie's "Me & U" (6)
6. Pharrell feat. Kanye West's "Number 1" (5)
5. the Raconteurs' "Steady As She Goes" (7)*
4. Beyonce feat. Jay-Z's "Deja Vu" (4)*
3. Nelly Furtado feat. Timbaland's "Promiscuous" (2)
2. Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy" (1)
1. Yung Joc's "It's Goin' Down" (3) [2w]
Sweet Child O' Mine Gn'R
b) Instead of a top 4 I nearly went 1a, 1b, 1c, 1d. All my summer anthems are clogging it at the top. Anyhow--
DROPS:
"Gimme That (remix)", 14
15. Arctic Monkeys' "I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor" (15)
14. the All-American Rejects' "Move Along" (12)
13. E-40 feat. T-Pain's "U & Dat" (debut)
12. Clipse feat. Pharrell's "Mr. Me Too" (13)*
11. Fort Minor feat. Holly Brook's "Where'd You Go" (9)
10. Christina Aguilera's "Ain't No Other Man" (10)
9. Pearl Jam's "Life Wasted" (8)
8. Ne-Yo's "Sexy Love" (11)*
7. Cassie's "Me & U" (6)
6. Pharrell feat. Kanye West's "Number 1" (5)
5. the Raconteurs' "Steady As She Goes" (7)*
4. Beyonce feat. Jay-Z's "Deja Vu" (4)*
3. Nelly Furtado feat. Timbaland's "Promiscuous" (2)
2. Gnarls Barkley's "Crazy" (1)
1. Yung Joc's "It's Goin' Down" (3) [2w]
Sweet Child O' Mine Gn'R
8/1/06
Suicide Is Painless
It is better to burn out than to fade away.
--Kurt Cobain
That is what I wrote on the eraseboard of my supervisors a short few minutes after I got fired.
Then I hopped across the street to the Marriott and filled out an application. I got a few out already, between them, a couple of local clubs, and Best Buy since the suspension.
I think my getting terminated instead of quitting is a blight, but once they find out the site-specfic reasons why and alongside my prior clean record of 3 years it should lessen the sting.
At least I'm going to be missed. My supervisor was solemn, very sad. One of my few friends around gave me a hug and seemed proud of me, and my favorite supervisor was down because she wasn't going to be watching football with me come Sundays--though if I do get a door job at a club downtown I have to let her in. (Aaron, I told you Karyn liked me. Told ya.)
Nothing from The Best Saturday Ever on its own got me fired, but cumulatively everything did. If I wanted the press I could be saying I got fired because of my love for Veronica Mars. (Love that was shown back, let the record show.) But I knew what could've happen--even if I thought it was going to pan out at the suspension level--and I did it anyway, and made my peace with it as it happened. I told Ivan my friends always looked out for me and blessed me. I just got to find some strangers to do it now.
And to keep up the positives, here's 10 things (at least) I won't miss about work:
After the paperwork was done, I was asked if I had anything to say. Could've gone a lot of ways. I settled for "Nothing that wouldn't get me fired."
That's how I spell maturity.
And as one of my Song of the Year candidates so eloquently put it--
Move Along the All-American Rejects (double irony, gotta love it)
--Kurt Cobain
That is what I wrote on the eraseboard of my supervisors a short few minutes after I got fired.
Then I hopped across the street to the Marriott and filled out an application. I got a few out already, between them, a couple of local clubs, and Best Buy since the suspension.
I think my getting terminated instead of quitting is a blight, but once they find out the site-specfic reasons why and alongside my prior clean record of 3 years it should lessen the sting.
At least I'm going to be missed. My supervisor was solemn, very sad. One of my few friends around gave me a hug and seemed proud of me, and my favorite supervisor was down because she wasn't going to be watching football with me come Sundays--though if I do get a door job at a club downtown I have to let her in. (Aaron, I told you Karyn liked me. Told ya.)
Nothing from The Best Saturday Ever on its own got me fired, but cumulatively everything did. If I wanted the press I could be saying I got fired because of my love for Veronica Mars. (Love that was shown back, let the record show.) But I knew what could've happen--even if I thought it was going to pan out at the suspension level--and I did it anyway, and made my peace with it as it happened. I told Ivan my friends always looked out for me and blessed me. I just got to find some strangers to do it now.
And to keep up the positives, here's 10 things (at least) I won't miss about work:
- The ugliest fucking uniforms this side of the 70's Padres. The best one merely made me look like a milkman. The ugly ones were damn ugly. And now I'll never wear them again.
- Working weekends.
- Missing football games.
- Working New Year's fucking Eve, and Day.
- Standing a shitload, which wasn't so bad until I started spending 30 hours a week crashing on Grandma's couch. Which reminds me--
- --going from work directly after sleeping at Grandma's.
- NO hot girls in our department. NONE. Except my ex, and I already got her, so...
- Doctors asking me to write $2 receipts for coat checking their bag. DOCTORS!
- Increasingly working someplace where I cared more about the people than the job; the realization that I'm going to miss the people I worked with and the checks.
- Let it be known that the people who fired me for this infraction after 3 years of a perfect record in the past 2 weeks suspended me for 30 hours--paid me for 12--and made sure to give me my biggest check of the year on the way out the door.
After the paperwork was done, I was asked if I had anything to say. Could've gone a lot of ways. I settled for "Nothing that wouldn't get me fired."
That's how I spell maturity.
And as one of my Song of the Year candidates so eloquently put it--
Move Along the All-American Rejects (double irony, gotta love it)
7/25/06
My Most Rock Star Moment of 2006?
And the lesser pics. But honestly, does that have Christmas card written all over it or what?! (That munching sound you hear is me eating Dupin's soul.)
Rebel Without A Pause Public Enemy
7/23/06
Seize The Day Off
And every mistake I make comes back to haunt me
Still, I'm as happy as I've ever been...
--Marcy Playground, "Bye Bye"
Almost broke.
Possibly about to get fired.
Jimmy crack corn, and I don't care.
Let me get this all in, because I've got about five hours of sleep to get to.
I called off work, and went in. They busted me (not for the Con portion, for the comp portion). So I "should've stopped there".
Snuck in with Ivan. I waved my badge and said he was a new hire. Yes, I might use my powers for good someday. It wasn't the me aspect of the no-comp I got perturbed over, it's that I promised him and then couldn't deliver. In theory.
We ran around for a couple hours (I bought a Racially Profiled shirt) and went to the Kevin Smith speaking part. But not only was the almost a literal mile long, but I accidentally ran into a higher supervisor than the one who let my calling in sick go. He was berating me about how they'd had me on camera all day and forcing me out of the building [and Ivan by proxy, the part that bummed me out], and suddenly I had the perfect line to get fired on--you can scream at me until you grow an adult-sized penis--but I held it in abeyance. Later on I would hate myself for holding it. Jobs come and go, but a blaze of glory exit with a perfect line like that? Maaaaaan. Anyway, my kicking out of the building lasted all of 15 minutes. Where it takes the commonday idiot about an hour and a half, I snuck back through cutting to the front of the line, ambling upstairs, and pretending they lost my info in the mail so I could pay unlike everyone else they made wait.
Got back to the real line for the Kevin Smith thing, but he's late. They push him to the evening and I get lunch which is waaaaaayyyyyy too big for me.
I gear up for the Veronica Mars run and guess who I run into, Aaron McGruder & Chuck D just hanging out together. I get a picture with them and profess my admiration for their collective work. Normally this would be a much bigger paragraph, but later events....yeah.
I get in line about two hours early and I'm one of the first 15 in line. I end up talking with the guys in front of me about the Superman, the Pirates, and the Clerks II, and they are slightly awed I'm risking my job (did risk it, at that point) for this moment. Yeah, I haven't been waiting for this for months. Jobs come and go; great moments live forever. Then my friend Jen is walking out of the WB/CW booth, so I get to talk to her for a while,45 minutesish. It's at this point I'm asked if they can film me talking about Veronica Mars for a series of commercial bumpers that're airing in the fall on the CW to try and hook new viewers.
They want me to talk about Veronica Mars. On camera. To try and get others to watch. Which they could later televise.
Somehow they tricked me into doing it, and I broke down seasons 1 and 2, why it's a good show. I got to do it with Jen as my sidekick, which is a nice bit of a circle coming full.
I wait another hour and change as the line explodes exponentially ah ha ha SUCKERS and my new friends and I discuss how we got tricked into pimping the show. They show up and I start with the making ready. The camera's out. I pop Tic-Tacs (if you think I'm meeting Kristen Anne Bell with carne asada breath, stop a brick with your face). I get the phone ready on the off chance I'll have enough time to have her do the voicemail and thus drive Dupin to full suicide. She is so beautiful in person Baby Jesus would cry openly and clap his hands. I get the season 1 DVD set out. Line's moving quick.
There's a break and I'm next to Michael Muhney. And I shake his hand and go, "You're SUCH a great asshole!" Fortunately, he gets the comment as it's intended and says after laughing, "People always say that to me. 'You're a great dickhead', stuff like that. I have to keep remembering I'm a good person.' I say I'll see him in a minute, and then before I know it Zero Hour arrives.
My season 1 DVD set box is on the table, off to the races and a big fat check if I ever didn't love it enough to throw it on Ebay as the cast takes turns signing it. (ONE thing got autographed--however, they failed to delinate what the thing would be, I took a shot. It payed off. Who's house?) There's Jason Dohring, lowkey but with the Logan smirk. Handshake. Admiration for playing an asshole with a little bit of a redeeming side. There's Ryan Hansen, looking Dick (Casablanca)-ish as ever, and admiration for playing mean-spirited without malicious. He & Jason pose for a shot together. Fuck, they are really moving us along. Francis Capra, my favorite supporting actor, since Wallace isn't there (uberirony), and he confirms he'll be in season 3 but not how. Picture.
And then it's Kristen Bell and Rob Thomas and Enrico Colantoni all together like ducks in a row, in that order, and I damn near lactate. But first a picture. To Kristen & Rob I say, "I don't have the time to say everything that I want to say, but if you ever need anybody killed, I'm there." Kristen laughs--awesome girl laugh--and then she laughs at the shirt. Loves the shirt. My To: Women From: God shirt.
I'm a god. I'm not the God.
Then I ask her can she sign my arm as you see it above, and she only pauses a beat before accepting it. She almost signs, and then she calls over the network people. They were filming that too, because the VMars fans are so dedicated and apparently they're going to show that to hook people. I am a C.W. target market. Then she signs my arm, cameras rolling, and Rob himself takes the shot of his ingenue branding me--and it's a good shot, too. Patience, kids.
Enrico signs, I shake his hand and call him the best dad on TV. Back to Michael. He closes it out, and notes it's been a couple years and no one's ever got their arm signed.
My DVD box is back with sigs. Kristen Bell has signed my arm. I've met them all, and not only after an hourlong panel were they engaging, they were nice and appreciative. Adrenaline flows through my veins like the first hit of crack.
Keep in mind this is my favorite show, why I risked my job, why I got thrown out and dove back in, et al, only to watch it pay off and then some.
I start l a u g h i n g. I mean like a nut.
It doesn't occur to me for 20 seconds I've left my phone, and Michael hands it back to me with a "No, it's my phone! Yeah, now it's 'He's an asshole in real life!' More laughing. I told him it would've been an honor and a privilege and I go and I laugh psychotically all 50 feet to where Amanda's working the Disney booth and I show the DVD, the picture, and the forearm (forearm first) and then Carly and Jo happen by then and I show it off to them.
The Kevin Smith line goes into the next county and though Aaron's got a seat for me I won't get in. So I pick up my stuff, go, have a cherry lemonade grande, and keep gazing at my forearm and the New Best Picture Ever. Can't stop smiling. Why would I?
Meet Ivan and we hit a new hookah lounge.
Then we went to see my DJ buddy for the first time in a couple months and--on the way we met some VMars fans and some crew, who all loved the arm signature--he played some of my requests, we got the first round on him, he was damn glad to see me and pleased we came out. Not a lot of us but we made up for it in energy (me). We were going to go to a bikini fashion show but ended up hanging longer than expected with him, and instead ended up at Confidential so he could wear off his buzz. I lost a tenner in change (aw) but finally got with that hot Indian girl I see on my delivery route all the time and bumped and grinded with her a bit, which was nice. The Running Man, it's like Spanish Fly. I keep saying.
So time for four and a halfish hours of sleep, following which I'll go to work and see if I'm fired, suspended, probationed, or verbally smacked (3 prior years with a clean record. I'm not expecting the first, but if they do, well, fuck 'em.). And maybe I should be worried. But I'm not in the least.
I had a great day. I got to share it with a bunch of friends. I did it for 22 hours.
And I'm the property of Kristen Bell.
I'm willing to bet that looks sweet on a resume.
EPILOGUE
"Suspended for a week". Sounds horrible. Except it's today and my shift on Wednesday. And they're giving me half pay for today since I showed up on time like usual and all. So it's really a 9½ hour suspension, except they would've taken the lunch I would've taken today out of my pay, so it's a 9 hour. And I can't step foot on the facility. Because that's what I love to do when the Comic-Con's not around, hang out at work. Formal meeting Friday, I cop to everything and promise never before, never again (real easy to do when never again constitutes a time period between 3 weeks and 4 months), and that's it.
I had no idea I was such close friends with Michelle Rodriguez's judges. I'm getting the pictures in 45 minutes, send them off later, and actually get some sleep in my bed without worrying about leaving work the same time as 60,000 other people.
Even when bad things happen to me, good's in them. (Assuming I'm not fired, which would be sad, but only slightly.) What song should I play? Oh, I know...
Bad Reputation Joan Jett & the Blackhearts
7/22/06
Pros And Con
All right. Work crushed my soul. I did pick up a birthday present for Rob, and something for Dupin if he acts right. I ran into Amanda, which begat running into Carly, which begat running into Aaron. Hilarious. (Sadly, I missed the Snakes On A Plane confab, and, yes, someone asked SLJ if the snakes deserved to die. And got the answer. I honestly died a little inside having missed that.)
Post-work. Now we're talking.
Bought tickets for Clerks II.
Dinner at Hooters. I'm probably eating there tomorrow, but ah well.
Go back to the theater. Brian Posehn is outside, but it's Reno 911's Thomas Lennon I get the picture with (on the cameraphone, sadly, but I hope to have it up shortly). Aaron's camera doesn't work. He is sad.
Clerks II. Oricon, don't see this movie. Everyone else, go see it 4 times. I'm in the credits, but even if I wasn't, I would be angling for a way to sneak on there. Other than the Big Sappy Ending--which probably had to happen--your internal organs will be in danger from all the laughing. It should also be noted even with my loose moral attitude I screamed out "Oh, my God!" and covered my eyes on at least 2 seperate occasions. So now you know.
Now: calling off work, asking Kevin Smith what's a Nubian, drooling over Jennifer Love Hewitt, telling Kristen Bell I want to bear her children, dinner with friends, hitting the club for my DJ friend, hitting the club across the street for the bikini fashion show.
Oh yeah--calling off work so I can use my comp tickets courtesy of work to go to work to go to the Con. I keeps it gangsta likes that.
Misery Soul Asylum
Post-work. Now we're talking.
Bought tickets for Clerks II.
Dinner at Hooters. I'm probably eating there tomorrow, but ah well.
Go back to the theater. Brian Posehn is outside, but it's Reno 911's Thomas Lennon I get the picture with (on the cameraphone, sadly, but I hope to have it up shortly). Aaron's camera doesn't work. He is sad.
Clerks II. Oricon, don't see this movie. Everyone else, go see it 4 times. I'm in the credits, but even if I wasn't, I would be angling for a way to sneak on there. Other than the Big Sappy Ending--which probably had to happen--your internal organs will be in danger from all the laughing. It should also be noted even with my loose moral attitude I screamed out "Oh, my God!" and covered my eyes on at least 2 seperate occasions. So now you know.
Now: calling off work, asking Kevin Smith what's a Nubian, drooling over Jennifer Love Hewitt, telling Kristen Bell I want to bear her children, dinner with friends, hitting the club for my DJ friend, hitting the club across the street for the bikini fashion show.
Oh yeah--calling off work so I can use my comp tickets courtesy of work to go to work to go to the Con. I keeps it gangsta likes that.
Misery Soul Asylum
7/12/06
This Post Is Brought To You By The Letter S (Snapshots, Stargazing, Schedule-making)
The photo album is now in effect, except of course for the '06 Comic-Con pictures since it's not until next week. I'm already very cautiously psyched since Kevin Smith is in for Clerks II: Eclectic Burger Crew and Samuel L. Jackson is going to be doing some press for SNAKES ON A PLANE~! Plus, I'm either calling off or getting off Saturday to meet Kristen Bell, give her a birthday present (mind out of the gutter, you sickos), maybe get her to record my voicemail message, and finally cause Dupin to kill himself.
Oh, the whole my-personal-life-is-sterling-but-I-may-have-to-kill-my-family thing is still in effect.
Dream Itinerary
THURSDAY
Lucy Lawless, Susan Ward 12-1:30
Rosario Dawson 1-2
Amy Smart 3-5
FRIDAY
Snoop, Brande Roderick 12-1
Ali Larter, Hayden Panettiere 12:30-2
BattleStar Galactica (Grace Park & Tricia Helfer aren't listed...yet(?)) 2-3
RZA 3-4
David Boreanaz 3-4
Jamie Pressly 4-5
Boondocks panel 5-6
SNAKES ON A MOTHERFUCKING PLANE, acting painstakingly done by SAMUEL JACKSON! It'll make you laugh! You'll be coughing up popcorn in no time! You might even fight an usher or two! Mmm-mmm, bitch! Oh, 5:45-7
S A T U R D A Y (either I'm calling off or getting off, I'm not missing this)
Greg the Bunny/Seth Green 11:30-12:30
Rose McGowan 11:45-12:45
Simpsons panel 12 -1
Kevin Smith 1-2:30
Jennifer Love Hewitt 3:30-4:30
VERONICA MARS panel 4:30-5:30 (with followup autograph session. And I'm getting Kristen Bell a birthday present.)
SUNDAY
Ashley Scott 11:30-1
Amber Tamblyn, Arielle Kebbel 12-1
Reno 911 1-2:30
Sweet Child O' Mine Guns N' Roses
Oh, the whole my-personal-life-is-sterling-but-I-may-have-to-kill-my-family thing is still in effect.
Dream Itinerary
THURSDAY
Lucy Lawless, Susan Ward 12-1:30
Rosario Dawson 1-2
Amy Smart 3-5
FRIDAY
Snoop, Brande Roderick 12-1
Ali Larter, Hayden Panettiere 12:30-2
BattleStar Galactica (Grace Park & Tricia Helfer aren't listed...yet(?)) 2-3
RZA 3-4
David Boreanaz 3-4
Jamie Pressly 4-5
Boondocks panel 5-6
SNAKES ON A MOTHERFUCKING PLANE, acting painstakingly done by SAMUEL JACKSON! It'll make you laugh! You'll be coughing up popcorn in no time! You might even fight an usher or two! Mmm-mmm, bitch! Oh, 5:45-7
S A T U R D A Y (either I'm calling off or getting off, I'm not missing this)
Greg the Bunny/Seth Green 11:30-12:30
Rose McGowan 11:45-12:45
Simpsons panel 12 -1
Kevin Smith 1-2:30
Jennifer Love Hewitt 3:30-4:30
VERONICA MARS panel 4:30-5:30 (with followup autograph session. And I'm getting Kristen Bell a birthday present.)
SUNDAY
Ashley Scott 11:30-1
Amber Tamblyn, Arielle Kebbel 12-1
Reno 911 1-2:30
Sweet Child O' Mine Guns N' Roses
7/8/06
KWBR
My photo album is a work in progress.
DROPS:
"Ms. New Booty" --> 4, "Walk Away" --> 7, "Hustlin'" --> 15
fifteen Gold Lion Yeah Yeah Yeahs (re-entry)
fourteen Temperature Sean Paul (5)
thirteen I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor Arctic Monkeys (10)
twelve Where'd You Go Fort Minor (14)
eleven Steady, As She Goes the Raconteurs (11)
ten
Ain't No Other Man Christina Aguilera (9)
nine
Dani California Red Hot Chili Peppers (6)
eight
Move Along the All-American Rejects (re-entry)
seven
Deja Vu Beyonce feat. Jay-Z (debut)
six
Life Wasted Pearl Jam (13)*
five
Number 1 Pharrell feat. Kanye West (12)*
four
It's Goin' Down Yung Joc (8)*
three
Me & U Cassie (2)
two
Promiscuous Nelly Furtado feat. Timbaland (3)*
one
Crazy Gnarls Barkley (1) [1m]
Shake A Move DJ Spider vs. Ying Yang Twins & Pitbull vs. Young MC
DROPS:
"Ms. New Booty" --> 4, "Walk Away" --> 7, "Hustlin'" --> 15
fifteen Gold Lion Yeah Yeah Yeahs (re-entry)
fourteen Temperature Sean Paul (5)
thirteen I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor Arctic Monkeys (10)
twelve Where'd You Go Fort Minor (14)
eleven Steady, As She Goes the Raconteurs (11)
ten
Ain't No Other Man Christina Aguilera (9)
nine
Dani California Red Hot Chili Peppers (6)
eight
Move Along the All-American Rejects (re-entry)
seven
Deja Vu Beyonce feat. Jay-Z (debut)
six
Life Wasted Pearl Jam (13)*
five
Number 1 Pharrell feat. Kanye West (12)*
four
It's Goin' Down Yung Joc (8)*
three
Me & U Cassie (2)
two
Promiscuous Nelly Furtado feat. Timbaland (3)*
one
Crazy Gnarls Barkley (1) [1m]
Shake A Move DJ Spider vs. Ying Yang Twins & Pitbull vs. Young MC
7/3/06
This Was Supposed To Be The Summer Of George
Constant refutation with myself
The victim of Catch-22
Green Day, "Walking Contradiction"
Good thing I'm not working a full shift tomorrow probably for some bullshit aryan youth church thing...wait...
Tell Me When To Go (remix) E-40 feat. Kanye West & Ice Cube
The victim of Catch-22
Green Day, "Walking Contradiction"
I've been holding this post in abeyance a day because I thought maybe if I gave it some time, that I'd be less the cauldron of emotions and could instead deliver a passionate but detached post on it at this point in time.
NOPE.
Grandma got here two days early and will be leaving never. I'm sorry, allegedly Thursday. I have never felt more distant from this family the more they are continuing to lean on me. My room was barely mine to begin with as my meager possessions began to get crowded out by my parents', but that was nothing. Grandma's discarded clothes on the floor (both soiled and unsoiled), runny Kleenexes (can't give her cold medicine, it might punchup with one of the 11 pills she takes a day), her pads, her Depends, and about a tenth of her closet. You may be wondering where that leaves me--attached at the wrist to the portable DVD player with my head down. I don't get sleep much, and if I do my body is sure to wake me up. My Grandma is like having a daughter I didn't want fathered by some other guy. Got to wake up at 4:30? That'll happen. Got to clean up after she misses the toilet? Wants coffee during a heat wave? And on, and on, and on.
This wasn't my place before, and it's really about to not be. The switch over to condos is on and we're out at the end of the month. Do we have a new place? No. A prospect? Nope. Am I going to have to move into a 2b and bunk with my brother for the first time since Bush the Elder? Looks like it. Am I going to have to help everyone else pack the other 92% of the house that isn't mine?
I'm shut-in into the corner of the apartment and even that's not far away enough. I'm really angry because I'm almost in a second personal Renaissance of pulling quality girls and getting interesting job offers, but I can't devote the full resources to them as I'd like even after the move to who-fucking-knows-where because I'm still on the hook for the Grandma thing until a home, a caretaker, or death. (Tempted as I am to walk at the end of the month, who does that to family?) And all I keep thinking is If my parents weren't so fucking incompetent, I wouldn't be spending the summer rooming with my brother. You cannot have brothers our ages room together in a best-case scenario, and you damn sure can't do it after giving them about 10 of the most formative years apart with their own personal space.
I have gotten to the heart of why this is pissing me off so royally. It's combining two things I really hate in being fake (in having to subliminate all this vitriol to where it should go and instead letting fly here and to my friends) and getting in the middle of drama, wrapped up in a family situation.
NOPE.
Grandma got here two days early and will be leaving never. I'm sorry, allegedly Thursday. I have never felt more distant from this family the more they are continuing to lean on me. My room was barely mine to begin with as my meager possessions began to get crowded out by my parents', but that was nothing. Grandma's discarded clothes on the floor (both soiled and unsoiled), runny Kleenexes (can't give her cold medicine, it might punchup with one of the 11 pills she takes a day), her pads, her Depends, and about a tenth of her closet. You may be wondering where that leaves me--attached at the wrist to the portable DVD player with my head down. I don't get sleep much, and if I do my body is sure to wake me up. My Grandma is like having a daughter I didn't want fathered by some other guy. Got to wake up at 4:30? That'll happen. Got to clean up after she misses the toilet? Wants coffee during a heat wave? And on, and on, and on.
This wasn't my place before, and it's really about to not be. The switch over to condos is on and we're out at the end of the month. Do we have a new place? No. A prospect? Nope. Am I going to have to move into a 2b and bunk with my brother for the first time since Bush the Elder? Looks like it. Am I going to have to help everyone else pack the other 92% of the house that isn't mine?
I'm shut-in into the corner of the apartment and even that's not far away enough. I'm really angry because I'm almost in a second personal Renaissance of pulling quality girls and getting interesting job offers, but I can't devote the full resources to them as I'd like even after the move to who-fucking-knows-where because I'm still on the hook for the Grandma thing until a home, a caretaker, or death. (Tempted as I am to walk at the end of the month, who does that to family?) And all I keep thinking is If my parents weren't so fucking incompetent, I wouldn't be spending the summer rooming with my brother. You cannot have brothers our ages room together in a best-case scenario, and you damn sure can't do it after giving them about 10 of the most formative years apart with their own personal space.
I have gotten to the heart of why this is pissing me off so royally. It's combining two things I really hate in being fake (in having to subliminate all this vitriol to where it should go and instead letting fly here and to my friends) and getting in the middle of drama, wrapped up in a family situation.
Good thing I'm not working a full shift tomorrow probably for some bullshit aryan youth church thing...wait...
Tell Me When To Go (remix) E-40 feat. Kanye West & Ice Cube
6/28/06
6/24/06
Before KWBR, A Few Bullet Points...
RANDOM: I can't sleep more than five consecutive hours anymore without waking up. I wonder why THAT is he asked himself as rhetorisarcastically as he could...
RANDOM II: Two more games of poker. In for $20, made about $27. But my not-lose-money streak is currently at 6 and counting. BTW, if you're really looking to piss off your friends, flop a set of threes and then slowplay them when they have top 2 pair. Also, I've changed my poker nickname to Black Jesus. Not because of the resemblance to Chris Ferguson, but because the Dark Horse was a better name when I didn't know as much and thought of myself as the perennial underdog. As Biggie said, Things Done Changed.
RANDOM III: Seven friend invites to MySpace from random ass girls within 22 minutes, half of them looking for webcam love. SEVEN! I know I'm single currently and love porn and all that but DAG yo.
RANDOM IV: I don't know what the fucking holdup is, but Jessica Biel & Kelly Clarkson need to pudding wrestle for charity for the Best Ass On A White Girl Championship already.
RANDOM V: I don't know if any of you have heard of this Jessica Alba woman, but apparently she's an actress or something? Anyway, she's doing something-or-other so you might want to keep your eye on her. She could become a Regulation Hottie someday if she keeps this up, I think.
---------AND NOW, FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT---------
Seriously, I could've done a top 20 this week. But that'd make me like everybody else that's why/I say/fuck it
DROPS:
"What You Know" --> 10, "Not Ready To Make Nice" --> 11, "A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me" --> 12, "Bossy" --> 13, "Move Along" --> 14, "When You're Mad" --> 15
fifteen Hustlin' Rick Ross (debut)
fourteen Where'd You Go Fort Minor (re-entry)
thirteen Life Wasted Pearl Jam (9)
twelve Number 1 Pharrell feat. Kanye West (debut)
eleven Steady, As She Goes the Raconteurs (re-entry)
ten
I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor Arctic Monkeys (8)
nine
Ain't No Other Man Christina Aguilera (debut)
eight
It's Goin' Down Yung Joc (debut)
seven
Walk Away Kelly Clarkson (6)
six
Dani California Red Hot Chili Peppers (5)
five
Temperature Sean Paul (2)
four
Ms. New Booty Bubba Sparxxx feat. Ying Yang Twins (1)
three
Promiscuous Nelly Furtado feat. Timbaland (7)*
two
Me & U Cassie (4)*
ONE
Crazy Gnarls Barkley (3) [2w]
Number One Single Lisa Loeb
RANDOM II: Two more games of poker. In for $20, made about $27. But my not-lose-money streak is currently at 6 and counting. BTW, if you're really looking to piss off your friends, flop a set of threes and then slowplay them when they have top 2 pair. Also, I've changed my poker nickname to Black Jesus. Not because of the resemblance to Chris Ferguson, but because the Dark Horse was a better name when I didn't know as much and thought of myself as the perennial underdog. As Biggie said, Things Done Changed.
RANDOM III: Seven friend invites to MySpace from random ass girls within 22 minutes, half of them looking for webcam love. SEVEN! I know I'm single currently and love porn and all that but DAG yo.
RANDOM IV: I don't know what the fucking holdup is, but Jessica Biel & Kelly Clarkson need to pudding wrestle for charity for the Best Ass On A White Girl Championship already.
RANDOM V: I don't know if any of you have heard of this Jessica Alba woman, but apparently she's an actress or something? Anyway, she's doing something-or-other so you might want to keep your eye on her. She could become a Regulation Hottie someday if she keeps this up, I think.
---------AND NOW, FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT---------
Seriously, I could've done a top 20 this week. But that'd make me like everybody else that's why/I say/fuck it
DROPS:
"What You Know" --> 10, "Not Ready To Make Nice" --> 11, "A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me" --> 12, "Bossy" --> 13, "Move Along" --> 14, "When You're Mad" --> 15
fifteen Hustlin' Rick Ross (debut)
fourteen Where'd You Go Fort Minor (re-entry)
thirteen Life Wasted Pearl Jam (9)
twelve Number 1 Pharrell feat. Kanye West (debut)
eleven Steady, As She Goes the Raconteurs (re-entry)
ten
I Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor Arctic Monkeys (8)
nine
Ain't No Other Man Christina Aguilera (debut)
eight
It's Goin' Down Yung Joc (debut)
seven
Walk Away Kelly Clarkson (6)
six
Dani California Red Hot Chili Peppers (5)
five
Temperature Sean Paul (2)
four
Ms. New Booty Bubba Sparxxx feat. Ying Yang Twins (1)
three
Promiscuous Nelly Furtado feat. Timbaland (7)*
two
Me & U Cassie (4)*
ONE
Crazy Gnarls Barkley (3) [2w]
Number One Single Lisa Loeb
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