Friday, September 30, 2011
The Genius of Adventure Time
I can't imagine any excuse anyone would use for not watching this perfect show.
Flashdance on 15th and K
The cute jogging girl concerned with keeping her heart rate up while waiting for the light to turn was very enthusiastic about it. I don't leer, but this chick demanded it. I tip my hat to you, scantily clad "running" in place girl. I'd love to hear the soundtrack of your life.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Replicants
There's this dog in our building - his name is Popo. He's a tiny, yipping, yapping dog. One day we saw Popo and his owner and said, "Popo looks a little different." The owner said, "Popo died." After a few seconds of condolences, we asked, "Well then, who's this?" And the owner said, "Popo."
Yes, Popo is dead. One week later a new identical dog was acquired and named Popo. People fucking do this.
When I was a kid, my friend Andy had a yellow Labrador named Maggie. Maggie got hit by a car. Soon after a new yellow Labrador was obtained and named Maggie.
People do this. I don't understand this. Why do people do things I cannot understand?
Yes, Popo is dead. One week later a new identical dog was acquired and named Popo. People fucking do this.
When I was a kid, my friend Andy had a yellow Labrador named Maggie. Maggie got hit by a car. Soon after a new yellow Labrador was obtained and named Maggie.
People do this. I don't understand this. Why do people do things I cannot understand?
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
REM
If you were alive and driving a car between the years 1988 and 1992 then there was probably a copy of REM's Green tape somewhere in your messy car. I wasn't a huge REM fan, but I did wear that cassette out. Green absolutely is included on any musically discerning list of albums that made a difference in the evolution of music. Plus, we have REM to thank for the progression of what was/is commonly called "College Radio." After three decades of influencing most of the music world I thank REM for their contribution.
Molecules
By Jason Carlock
The train odor
is a fight between
Burning rubber and
Sweat.
Danger and
Reassurance
Death and
Chemistry.
Tonight we'll eat hamburgers.
The train odor
is a fight between
Burning rubber and
Sweat.
Danger and
Reassurance
Death and
Chemistry.
Tonight we'll eat hamburgers.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
The Swell Season
From Geeks of Doom:
If you’ve never seen the indie hit Once, it’s a movie you simply have to see before you die. It’s a beautiful film with one of the greatest soundtracks ever made that tells the story of two musicians falling in love despite the complications in each of their own lives making things very difficult. And the reason the soundtrack is so good is because the two stars of Once, Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova, aren’t actors at all but actually very talented musicians, who were each awarded an Academy Award for their music in the film.
What those of you who have seen Once might not know, however, is that a real–life romance sparked and faded between the two and a new musical venture called The Swell Season was born.
Now it’s time for that story to be told in the new musical documentary also titled The Swell Season, which is making the festival rounds. You can see the trailer below now!
And the trailer for Once:
If you’ve never seen the indie hit Once, it’s a movie you simply have to see before you die. It’s a beautiful film with one of the greatest soundtracks ever made that tells the story of two musicians falling in love despite the complications in each of their own lives making things very difficult. And the reason the soundtrack is so good is because the two stars of Once, Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova, aren’t actors at all but actually very talented musicians, who were each awarded an Academy Award for their music in the film.
What those of you who have seen Once might not know, however, is that a real–life romance sparked and faded between the two and a new musical venture called The Swell Season was born.
Now it’s time for that story to be told in the new musical documentary also titled The Swell Season, which is making the festival rounds. You can see the trailer below now!
And the trailer for Once:
Them!
Random men have no qualms asking me about sporting events from nights previous. But the minute I approach someone in the men's room and say, "How about that awesome audio remastering on the new Star Wars Blu Rays?" I get tackled by the Normal Police and labeled "nerd' and "outcast."
This morning I was approached and asked if I "caught the game last night." Even though I'm baseball fan I went ahead and assumed he meant the football game. "Yeah, I saw a little bit of it." And then the dude started dropping names of players on the team like he was their dad. "Fuck, I didn't watch it THAT closely!" (I didn't say that.)
But if you're going to ask me about Player A and Player B and what they had for breakfast and if I think Player C likes cats, I'm going to come back with "Those new Tattooine landscapes in the Blu Rays are really nice, huh?"
One more thing: If it's acceptable for an adult to wear a football player costume (AKA jersey) any day of the week on any day of the year, I should be allowed to wear my Stormtrooper costume to the store.
Oh, and one more thing... you Fantasy Football players are only one D20 away from evolving into a wicked game of D&D. And if that happens please call me.
This morning I was approached and asked if I "caught the game last night." Even though I'm baseball fan I went ahead and assumed he meant the football game. "Yeah, I saw a little bit of it." And then the dude started dropping names of players on the team like he was their dad. "Fuck, I didn't watch it THAT closely!" (I didn't say that.)
But if you're going to ask me about Player A and Player B and what they had for breakfast and if I think Player C likes cats, I'm going to come back with "Those new Tattooine landscapes in the Blu Rays are really nice, huh?"
One more thing: If it's acceptable for an adult to wear a football player costume (AKA jersey) any day of the week on any day of the year, I should be allowed to wear my Stormtrooper costume to the store.
Oh, and one more thing... you Fantasy Football players are only one D20 away from evolving into a wicked game of D&D. And if that happens please call me.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
Rare Nirvana Concert to be aired!
As part of the celebrations surrounding the 20th anniversary of Nirvana's Nevermind album VH1 is airing a rare concert from 1991, on Friday, September 23 at 11:00 PM EST. If you miss it it's your own damn fault.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Whatever, Trevor
There's two kinds of people in the world: People who eat disgusting green bananas, and people people who wait until they've turned a delicious speckled brown color.
There's two kinds of people in the world: People who know who played the lead in Teen Wolf Too, and morons.
There's two kinds of people in the world: People who talk on their cell phones in public, and those of us who play out fantasies in our heads where we beat the crap out of the douchebag blathering on his cell two feet away from me on the bus.
There's two kinds of people in the world: People who know who played the lead in Teen Wolf Too, and morons.
There's two kinds of people in the world: People who talk on their cell phones in public, and those of us who play out fantasies in our heads where we beat the crap out of the douchebag blathering on his cell two feet away from me on the bus.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
All Aboard the Garbage Train!
What kind of person are you?
When the garbage train creaks slowly by while you're standing on the Metro platform waiting to be zipped into the city for your new day of trivialities, encasing you and everyone else within its moving radius of stench far more awful than the new car smell you're accustomed to, do you
A. Say something loudly (and annoyingly obvious) as if the world needs one more arrogant person's commentary on what we're all painfully enduring; OR
B. Shut the fuck up and deal with it like an adult.
Yes, I recognize the irony of this post. But seriously, it's like God placed these people in my way like obstacles I have to hurdle. Yes, we get it, you don't like the stink. Guess what - none of us do, jackass. Also, this is probably the first time in my ten years of using the Metro that I have experienced watching a garbage train pass by. I think the garbage train ruined some people's days today. "I spent too much time growing up in my affluent neighborhood and worked too hard in my expensive college earning my way into this white collar job to have to stand here and smell garbage on a Tuesday morning!"
It's times like these, Universe, when I revert back to my mantra:
No matter how bad or rough or annoying I think things are in life at least I haven't been floating on a life boat for thirty days fighting off sharks with an oar as they jump into my boat and try to eat me. (Read the book Unbroken if you want some perspective in life.)
If you've had to do this at any point in your life, then please by all means complain about the smell of garbage as it's magically whisked away from your dainty fingers far, far away into a land you don't even know exists, through neighborhoods you couldn't care less about. Assholes.
When the garbage train creaks slowly by while you're standing on the Metro platform waiting to be zipped into the city for your new day of trivialities, encasing you and everyone else within its moving radius of stench far more awful than the new car smell you're accustomed to, do you
A. Say something loudly (and annoyingly obvious) as if the world needs one more arrogant person's commentary on what we're all painfully enduring; OR
B. Shut the fuck up and deal with it like an adult.
Yes, I recognize the irony of this post. But seriously, it's like God placed these people in my way like obstacles I have to hurdle. Yes, we get it, you don't like the stink. Guess what - none of us do, jackass. Also, this is probably the first time in my ten years of using the Metro that I have experienced watching a garbage train pass by. I think the garbage train ruined some people's days today. "I spent too much time growing up in my affluent neighborhood and worked too hard in my expensive college earning my way into this white collar job to have to stand here and smell garbage on a Tuesday morning!"
It's times like these, Universe, when I revert back to my mantra:
No matter how bad or rough or annoying I think things are in life at least I haven't been floating on a life boat for thirty days fighting off sharks with an oar as they jump into my boat and try to eat me. (Read the book Unbroken if you want some perspective in life.)
If you've had to do this at any point in your life, then please by all means complain about the smell of garbage as it's magically whisked away from your dainty fingers far, far away into a land you don't even know exists, through neighborhoods you couldn't care less about. Assholes.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Selling Terror
I did my best to avoid media coverage of 9/11 over the weekend for personal reasons. Unfortunately, I also wanted to watch football. The honoring that occurred on the field and whatnot was fine and dignified. It's the commercials from giant corporations pretending to care that bothered me. Specifically, Verizon and Budweiser.
Who would've thunk that ten years later beer and cell phones would be utilizing one of the darkest days in our country's history to sell their product. Actually, I expect that kind of behavior from beer. But cell phones?! Shame on you.
If you thought for one moment those were truly sincere "messages" from our dear friends at Budweiser and Verizon you are sadly naive. Those spots were created by advertising departments and were in fact COMMERCIALS.
Like I wasn't bombarded enough with vivid reminders of how terrible that day was for those of us living in New York and DC on that day, I have to watch HORSES BOW and say to myself, "Wow, Budweiser cares... Somebody hold my legs while I do a keg stand!" I guess the fine people at Budweiser and Verizon figured, "Heck, Bush used it to win a presidency... might as well see if we can use it to sell some phones." Disgusting.
Want to show how much you really care, giant corporations? Instead of buying time slots during NFL games and spending money to create those lavish commercials, why not give that money to someone hurt by 9/11. Give it to a kid who lost his dad. Give it to a husband who lost his wife. Someone's daughter died that day at the hands of terrorists... Bowing horses?! Come on.
Who would've thunk that ten years later beer and cell phones would be utilizing one of the darkest days in our country's history to sell their product. Actually, I expect that kind of behavior from beer. But cell phones?! Shame on you.
If you thought for one moment those were truly sincere "messages" from our dear friends at Budweiser and Verizon you are sadly naive. Those spots were created by advertising departments and were in fact COMMERCIALS.
Like I wasn't bombarded enough with vivid reminders of how terrible that day was for those of us living in New York and DC on that day, I have to watch HORSES BOW and say to myself, "Wow, Budweiser cares... Somebody hold my legs while I do a keg stand!" I guess the fine people at Budweiser and Verizon figured, "Heck, Bush used it to win a presidency... might as well see if we can use it to sell some phones." Disgusting.
Want to show how much you really care, giant corporations? Instead of buying time slots during NFL games and spending money to create those lavish commercials, why not give that money to someone hurt by 9/11. Give it to a kid who lost his dad. Give it to a husband who lost his wife. Someone's daughter died that day at the hands of terrorists... Bowing horses?! Come on.
Norm!
I'm sure there's a mathematical formula for it, Pythagorean's Theory maybe, or is it Avagadros' Number which says:
If the dog AND the baby are up, then Mom and Dad are up, too.
All for one and one for all? Last night the fucking fire alarm went off in our condo building at 2:30 AM and we shuffled outside with some pissed off pets and offspring. Forty-five minutes later the fire department showed up to tell us we could all go back to our "rooms" as if we were living in a hotel. Of course that wasn't the end of the ordeal in our house. Leia brings herself to the brink of a heart attack anytime the fire alarm goes off. In her defense, it's REALLY loud. Borderline ear-damaging. So Leia spent the rest of the night pacing and panting and making sure I didn't accidentally doze off during her "watch."
I did manage to catch a bit of an early Cheers episode when Coach was still alive. That was nice. I miss the Coach. He was funny. I miss Cheers. Why won't TV make more shows like Cheers?
If the dog AND the baby are up, then Mom and Dad are up, too.
All for one and one for all? Last night the fucking fire alarm went off in our condo building at 2:30 AM and we shuffled outside with some pissed off pets and offspring. Forty-five minutes later the fire department showed up to tell us we could all go back to our "rooms" as if we were living in a hotel. Of course that wasn't the end of the ordeal in our house. Leia brings herself to the brink of a heart attack anytime the fire alarm goes off. In her defense, it's REALLY loud. Borderline ear-damaging. So Leia spent the rest of the night pacing and panting and making sure I didn't accidentally doze off during her "watch."
I did manage to catch a bit of an early Cheers episode when Coach was still alive. That was nice. I miss the Coach. He was funny. I miss Cheers. Why won't TV make more shows like Cheers?
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Generations
My Nerdish readers already know that this is an eventful month in the comic book world. DC Comics (of Superman and Batman fame) decided after 70+ years of existence to reboot ALL of their titles. So, all of the big name DC Comic superhero comic books start over at #1 this month. As you can imagine, collectors (and fans) are frothing at the mouth to get their orange-dusted fingers on these (hopefully) soon-to-be valuable comic books. (Of course, we might have to wait another 70 years before we can cash them in to buy that houseboat we always dreamed of living on...)
Yesterday I picked up "my comics" for the week which included Action Comics #1 (Superman) and Detective Comics #1 (Batman). Those two books sold out early in the day, but I had the foresight to add them to my "pull list." (Pull List = If you pledge to become a regular at a comic book store they will reserve your favorite comic books for you to pick up at your leisure. It also earns you the perk of being addressed by name when you enter the store. "Norm!").
Coincidentally, I took James to the comic book store last night and wheeled his stroller into the crowded mob of young and old alike, all feverish to get their hands on some #1's. From what I could gather, only the guy with the baby stroller (me) was smart enough to reserve these books in advance and I walked out with the highly-sought after comic books.
Then suddenly as I was leaving the comic book store, the nerd mob began yelling, "There he goes! Get him!" and they started running toward me. Fortunately, James' stroller is a 'jogger' and I started pushing him at a full sprint as the torch-wielding mob (where'd they get torches?) closed in on me.
"Burn in Hell, nerds! You won't get my Action Comics #1 and my Detective Comics #1!" James dutifully held on to my comic stash as we made our way to our trusty Camry and sped off.
None of that happened. Actually, a very nice, overweight, ironic t-shirt wearing high school kid held the door open for me as I pushed the stroller out of the store.
I've always been proud to say that my dad took me to see Star Wars when I was 4-years-old even though I don't remember it; likewise, James can maybe someday say, "My dad took me to the comic book store the day Action Comics #1 was released."
Yesterday I picked up "my comics" for the week which included Action Comics #1 (Superman) and Detective Comics #1 (Batman). Those two books sold out early in the day, but I had the foresight to add them to my "pull list." (Pull List = If you pledge to become a regular at a comic book store they will reserve your favorite comic books for you to pick up at your leisure. It also earns you the perk of being addressed by name when you enter the store. "Norm!").
Coincidentally, I took James to the comic book store last night and wheeled his stroller into the crowded mob of young and old alike, all feverish to get their hands on some #1's. From what I could gather, only the guy with the baby stroller (me) was smart enough to reserve these books in advance and I walked out with the highly-sought after comic books.
Then suddenly as I was leaving the comic book store, the nerd mob began yelling, "There he goes! Get him!" and they started running toward me. Fortunately, James' stroller is a 'jogger' and I started pushing him at a full sprint as the torch-wielding mob (where'd they get torches?) closed in on me.
"Burn in Hell, nerds! You won't get my Action Comics #1 and my Detective Comics #1!" James dutifully held on to my comic stash as we made our way to our trusty Camry and sped off.
None of that happened. Actually, a very nice, overweight, ironic t-shirt wearing high school kid held the door open for me as I pushed the stroller out of the store.
I've always been proud to say that my dad took me to see Star Wars when I was 4-years-old even though I don't remember it; likewise, James can maybe someday say, "My dad took me to the comic book store the day Action Comics #1 was released."
Even the Smallest Paradise
By CJ Evans
The women in pencil
skirts spill from towers
and let down all
their disarming hair.
They hold caramel
glasses of whiskey
with sweet vermouth
as men with undone
cuffs speak something
secretive into the felt-
lined boxes of their
ears. The thunder
of planes is ignored,
and the four o'clock
flowers are fully
open. Their laughter
is a siren, echoing
among the buildings.
And they don't look
as the white parachutes
drift down to them
like dandelion seeds.
The women in pencil
skirts spill from towers
and let down all
their disarming hair.
They hold caramel
glasses of whiskey
with sweet vermouth
as men with undone
cuffs speak something
secretive into the felt-
lined boxes of their
ears. The thunder
of planes is ignored,
and the four o'clock
flowers are fully
open. Their laughter
is a siren, echoing
among the buildings.
And they don't look
as the white parachutes
drift down to them
like dandelion seeds.
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Welcome Back, Comics!
Look, there are some things I can't stay away from. And I should at least be given some credit for trying to eliminate this hobby from my life...
Over the weekend I went back to my local comic book store and rejoined my nerdy brethren after a hiatus that lasted a surprising two years. I feel no shame or regret. I love everything about comics.
Here's my over-simplified justification for getting back into comics (AKA spending the money on comics) (in case someone I'm married to happens to be reading this):
Over the weekend I went back to my local comic book store and rejoined my nerdy brethren after a hiatus that lasted a surprising two years. I feel no shame or regret. I love everything about comics.
Here's my over-simplified justification for getting back into comics (AKA spending the money on comics) (in case someone I'm married to happens to be reading this):
- I rarely drink alcohol. Imagine the money saved there.
- I no longer smoke cigarettes. The cost of my old 2 pack a day habit would be astronomical today!
- I don't golf. I'm not knocking golf, but I know it can be an expensive sport/hobby.
- I don't want/need to drive an expensive car.
- I make my own coffee at home every morning and take it to work in a thermos.
- I take my lunch to work every day. (With lunch and coffee I'm already saving hundreds per month!)
- The only tropical vacations I take are the ones in my mind when I'm staring at the Islands 2011 calendar in my cubicle.
- I plan on giving all my comic books to my son, who I hope will also develop an appreciation for the genre.
- I use public transportation for my daily commute to and from work saving money on gas and parking.
- I read e-books which saves me money on buying physical copies of books.
- I fashion all my clothes from leaves, sticks, and grass I gather from the forest floor.
- I build my own electronics from paper clips, rubber bands, and anything else I find laying around on the floor at work.
- Instead of buying new shoes I target unsuspecting people on the street and mug them for their shoes.
- I operate a meth lab in an old RV in the desert of New Mexico.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Lynette's New Toy
Lynette treated herself (rightfully) to a new camera yesterday. She wanted something more substantial than her old Elph, but not quite as "big" as a DSLR. So she choose the Canon SX30 IS.
Friday, September 2, 2011
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Music Appreciation: Adele
Yes, MTV is a mockery. Personally, I think the M should be removed from the channel name. Or replaced with an S for Shit. And then there's the Video Music Awards which the channel still clings to for some reason given the blatant absence of "music" or videos from their channel. I won't lie, some special moments have happened during past VMAs, historic moments. But as I attempted to watch this year's "show" I couldn't help but feel embarrassed for poor MTV. What a joke our "music industry" has become! When Lady Gaga carted out Brian May during her opening number I thought to myself not only do the kids watching this have no idea who this geezer is, but probably neither do their parents! (He was the guitarist for Queen. Kind of a big deal.) Performer after performer sang their current hits and danced some choreographed ditty with fire and lights and explosions and tits and ass and hot lava and not a single one actually meant anything. Not to me, at least. Not until Adele sang. Please note the gregarious omission of special effects and gimmicks as you allow this song to penetrate your soul and break your heart.
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