Hey, kids! Plays!

Look! My friend Matt's directing a play! It's going to be at Dad's Garage and you should all go and see it.

Bread and couches

First off, great big giant Rooms To Go outlet. Look around for a bit, then spot something I like. Big, comfy looking couch. I’m looking for maximum nap support. I sit in it, stretch out a bit. This is definitely in the lead. There’s also a bed shaped like a pirate ship that I swear to God I would have bought five years ago. Stupid maturity.

BUT—only a fool buys the first thing he sees. So, I’m off to the next place in the Jimmy Carter Blvd corridor of cheap-ass furniture. The store: Underpriced Furniture. I can’t fault the name. They’re also giving away hot dogs and cokes. Mmmm. After wandering around a bit, I find myself in the kids’ section, where there is a GIANT DINOSAUR. It’s also 3000 bucks, so there it stays. I look around, but nothing compares to my first love back at Rooms To Go.

Nothing until I go back to the warehouse, that is, where I find a skee-ball machine. So very tempting. I will find a way to make that work someday. On the way out, I see a guy wearing a somewhat familiar-looking t-shirt. In the early 90’s, Taco Bell had a promotion where if you ate enough tacos you could trade in your punchcard for a Bullwinkle t-shirt. I got one, of course, because I was a fatass and I liked Bullwinkle.

The guy in the parking lot was wearing that shirt. I couldn’t believe it. It was in pretty good shape, too, for being at least 15 years old. My hat’s off to you, sir.

I think I’m on my back to the Sharkfinhatcave, but then I pass an art store. My favorite painting is Edward Hopper’s The Nighthawks, and I’ve been meaning to get a framed print of it for a while. I pull into the art store and the first thing I notice is a painting of Heath Ledger’s Joker. Okay. I go inside, and there’s no one there. No customers, no one working, nothing. I walk around the showroom for a minute, than back into the warehouse. Quiet as a tomb. I’m in there for nearly 10 minutes and I never see a soul. At this point, I figure I’ve stumbled across a crime scene and I hightail it out of there.

Back home to regroup and snooze for a it. After a call to the mighty Justin, he tells me where and he and Mrs. Justin got their couch, so I head over to American Signature.

Ladies and gentlemen, may I present The Hawkeye.

I believe we have a winner, but I still don’t want to jump too soon. I head back home after a quick detour through the World Market. Another phone call to Justin, and I’m meeting him and his sister Lindsay down at IKEA. I look at the couches there, but nothing compares to the Hawkeye. Justin locates the shelves he needs, and we’re on our way after an aborted attempt to eat in the IKEA cafeteria.

To be continued…

Requiem

The Georgia Theater burned this past Friday. Chances are that if you read this site, you already know the place. If not, it was one of the biggest music venues in Athens. The 40 Watt gets the glory, but the Georgia Theater was a fantastic venue and it makes me incredibly sad to think what's happened to it.

I spent a lot of time in that room during my four years in Athens and did my fair share of legal and illegal drinking there, almost always Purple Haze. The shows I went to see and the time I spent with friends helped turn me into the music nerd I am. The bands go by in a flash--countless Dayroom shows, Dick Dale (once when I was a freshman, once when I was a senior--cyclical!), Mishap, Squat, Ben Folds Five, Fuzzy Sprouts, Jump Little Children, Deadeye Dick (fuck you, it was the 90's), Mel & the Party Hats, Strutter the KISS tribute band...it goes on.

They would show movies on nights they didn't have bands. That was where I first saw The Big Lebowski. I saw Chasing Amy, Swingers, and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas there again and again. I didn't know it then, but a lot of my outlook was being shaped in those moments. On game days, you could go there and watch if you didn't have tickets. Seeing the theater in the light of day was always a little unsettling. But then that 2nd beer took care of any reservations you had.

The girls always wanted to go to the late night dance parties there, so you would, because you did what the girls wanted. Doing my little shuffle dance, trying not to make too much of an ass out of myself. Looking across the room and realizing I'd gone to summer camp with the girl I'd just locked eyes with. Laughing my ass off with my friends. Attempting to say something clever to the fire-juggling merch girl for Jump. Stopping a friend from going through what would have been the biggest hook-up mistake of all time. New Years Eve and a friend deciding she wanted a piggy-back ride without telling me first. I've still got a scar on my lip from that.

I keep up with who's playing in Athens every week. I often think about getting over there for a show. Then I get a big deadline at work and I go to bed around 11, because I know I need to be on top of it the next day.

RIP. Rise again.

In your wildest dreams...

...you will never be this cool.

Another comic book joke...

Okay, I got a HUGE spike in pageviews from posting the Swamp Thing jokes. So, unsurprisingly, my main audience is comic book fans. Never let it be said I don't give the people what they want. Here, my right hand to god, is a conversation I had a couple of weeks ago:

Friend: "I don't know, man. I think that girl is more trouble than she's worth."
Me: "Oh, yeah?"
Friend: "Yeah. She's kind of a tornado."
Me: "So, when it's that time of the month, she's a Red Tornado?"*
Friend: "GOOD LORD."

It's not like I like me, either.

Actually, here's a question for you. I haven't really read a comic book in years. I pick up whatever Evan Dorkin puts out and I buy Peanuts and Popeye reprints, but that's about it. Any recommendations?

*Please see this link for an explanation if you, unlike me, had a life in high school.

Blast from the past

Nearly three years ago, my friend Justin and I wrote this batch of Swamp Thing jokes. Join me on this trip down memory lane, won't you?

1. Why does Swamp Thing never have any free time? Because he's always swamped.

2. Swamp Thing was sick recently. But he's vine now. He looked a little green earlier.

3. I used to not like Swamp Thing, but he grew on me.

4. There's a miniseries coming out about Swamp Thing's ancestors: Roots.

5. Man, Swamp Thing was so unpopular in high school. He was a real square root.

6. Swamp Thing wasn't terribly athletic, but he still made the baseball team. His position: pitcher's mound.

7. Swamp Thing's favorite sexual act? Tossing the salad.

8. Swamp Thing hates going shopping during the holidays. He can never find a place to bark.

9. Swamp Thing was held back a year in grade school. He was only at a second grade weeding level.

10. Swamp Thing is very accomplished in his career. He's a captain of industree all right.

11. Swamp Thing had kind of an embarassing incident as a teenager. His parents caught him weedwacking.

12. Swamp Thing's tough to be in a relationship for sure. His last girlfriend capped off their final argument with this kiss-off line: "Yeah, just go ahead and do what you do best. Leave."

13. Swamp Thing wanted to watch the whole movie, but he really had to pea.

14. Swamp Thing's teenage years were awkward for him. He'd go through these massive growth spurts. Dogs kept shitting in him.

15. Swamp Thing is a loyal friend. He always sticks by your side.

16. Swamp Thing had to go to the doctor the other day. He had a growth on his venus.

17. Swamp Thing is busy this weekend. His plant and uncle are in town.

Three documentaries

Three documentaries that are well worth your time:

1. Anvil! The Story of Anvil: A metal band that never hit the big time but never knew when to quit. Heartbreaking and heartwarming at the same time. They played a short set afterward and put foot to ass.

2. Tyson: If you're around my age, Tyson was kind of an ultraviolent Mickey Mouse during your childhood. Then his whole life went to shit. This movie is an hour and a half tour through his sometimes frightening mind, and I highly recommend it if you came of age during that time or if you're a fight fan. Luckily, I'm both.

3. The Rough South of Larry Brown: Larry Brown is my favorite writer, and this is a look into the life of a talent taken from us all too soon and the woman who stood beside him, no matter how far inside his own world he went. Watching this gave me a serious kick in the ass.

Speaking of gone too soon, godspeed, Jay.

Sorry about that.

Hey, a little radio silence never hurt anyone. Life's been busy/weird/good the last few weeks. So, here's an R.E.M. song that I think has never gotten its due. Listen to this. Then go listen to the new Wilco and Son Volt records. Then go outside for a bit. It's good for you.

I got the blues.

Not really. Feel fine, actually. But I went to Amazon's $5 sale dealie and bought this album by Black Joe Lewis and the Honeybears, and I highly recommend you do the same.

And just to clear up a question that's popped up a few times since last week: I'm not the guy who was the asshole to poor Candy*. I don't even know where that picture was taken. I just stumbled across it in my internerd journey. I hope she's enjoying a big dish of beef chow mein, wherever she is.


*In fact, I have a story of my total heroism towards a damsel in distress from a couple of weeks ago that I'll tell here when I have embellished the tale to my satisfaction.

Thwarted

She put $900
On the fifth horse
In the sixth race
I think his name was Chips Ahoy

---The Hold Steady, "Chips Ahoy"

I love that song. So, in anticipation of being at Churchill Downs last weekend, my big plan was to put money on the fifth horse in the sixth race. We're sitting there, drinking mint juleps and living momentarily like rich people, when the line-up for the sixth race comes up.

Yeah, the fifth horse scratched.

So, that didn't happen. However, we did see Wee Man from Jackass that weekend and later I banged my head in a cave. Ow.

So very mature.

I laughed for about 10 minutes at this. Then I laughed about it again a couple of days later thinking about it. It's just so unspeakably rude.

On film

Crank, Crank 2, Beerfest, and Road House are the only good movies ever made.

That is all.

Record Store Day!

Hey, tomorrow, April 18th, is Record Store Day. Go down to your local indie store and show some support. I lost my beloved Ella Guru earlier this year, and I don't want to lose another brick and mortar. Check out the link below to find a happening near you.

www.recordstoreday.com

A little less conversation

It's a nice afternoon, and I'm out for a five-mile run. Life is good. I've got the headphones on and I'm moving at a pretty good clip. Well, a pretty good clip for a 6-foot, 190 pound guy. So, kind of slow. I pass a homeless guy.

Homeless guy: "Hey!" as I run by.

Me: (kind of turn my head, give a wave)

Homeless guy: "You asshole! Fuck you!"

Me, internally: "That escalated quickly."

Pretty much every conversation I have eventually ends in that, but I usually feel like I've earned it, you know?

Oh, well. How are you?

All quiet...ish

Haven't posted much here lately--been busy on several fronts, not the least of which is getting off my ass and getting several things written that I've gotten desperately behind on. Here's a quick blitz of shit:

1. Hey, Brett picked the Penthouse Pet on Rock of Love! Shocking! See you here for Season 4!
2. I can personally attest to Neil Young's new record being great road trip music.
3. David Foster Wallace was a ridiculously intelligent, funny guy.
4. Watch this, then buy.



I'll be back with more soon.

The punchline

I have a punchline. I can't get to the set-up. Mayhap you can help. Here's the punchline:

Billy Jor-El.

I'm trying to figure out a way to work "Brainiac-ack-ack-ack-ack" into it.

Vote!

Hey, two posts tonight! Screw you, it's Monday night. I have to stay in sometimes. Anyway, this is important.

My friend the mighty Chiken Green made a potential commercial for Comcast. Now it's up for a vote against nine other entrants. We need your help! Please go here:

Atlanta Challenge--I Hear You

If you like what you see, please vote 5 stars. I think you have to register to watch the video and vote, but there's cash and film equipment for the winner. Also, if you look up and to the right, you'll see some guy doing the world's worst cabbage patch. Some handsome, talented, guy.

Hey, that Bob Dylan's talented.

If you go to Bob Dylan's site, you can download the song "Beyond Here Lies Nothin" for free until tomorrow at midnight. It's from his forthcoming record "Together Through Life." The song's pretty damned good, a pretty natural extension of the last two records.

That song is not the point of this post.

The cover looks like this:













The cover art for Big Bad Love, by the late, great author Larry Brown, looks like this:














Bless you, Bob. Good to know he's a fan. Please read Larry Brown. Please listen to Bob Dylan. Please hope for Brett to pick Jamie on Rock of Love.

I am a failure.

I tried.

I really did.

I did everything I could.

I talked, but the person I needed to hear me wouldn't listen.

Now there is a void. Emptiness. All we can yearn for is what was there before.

I couldn't stop my best friend from watching 2 Girls 1 Cup. WITH HIS WIFE.

Dumbass. I warned him.

My heart hurts.

This is very tough for me to write. I try to keep my personal life separated from this blog. But sometimes, I have to express how I feel.

Bret just sent Beverly home from the Rock of Love Bus Tour. How could he do this???????

I...I'm going to go curl up with a glass of Night Train and try to muddle through, somehow.

Here. This will make us all feel better.

R.I.P. Popcorn

I don't think I posted this video originally other than sending it to some friends, but Johnny Knoxville did a great interview a few months back with legendary moonshiner Popcorn Sutton. Popcorn was the living embodiment of what you think a moonshiner is, and. he was looking at two years in prison, two years that I'm sure he wouldn't have survived. Popcorn took his life this week to avoid his prison sentence. We won't be seeing his like again.

I'm from the south and have heard moonshine stories all my life and have had a handful of nights with the stuff myself. Here's to you, Popcorn. I hope you're taking a slug from the jar wherever you are.

For Knoxville's story about Popcorn's death and the original story, click here. Just a heads up, the interview is pretty, um, frank. Really, really frank. But chances are if you've survived reading my words to this point, you'll make it through this.

Stanislavsky all up in this piece.

I spent most of yesterday afternoon with my head painted green, watching a non-existent television and giving my pretend buddy hell about a fake phone call he got during a football game that wasn't actually happening.

Despite not being an actor*, I get called on to act every now and then. And so, I found myself being directed by my friend Chiken as he called the shots on a commercial he was shooting for an upcoming contest. I'm a writer and always will be, but it's cool to sit in and watch the process of a film happening. For 30 seconds of total footage, we overtook a house, had four cast members and twice as many crew, with everyone working for around five hours, not to mention all the advance work that Chiken had done. The sense of collaboration was palpable, even when things got bogged down. I work best in that kind of atmosphere or bouncing ideas off someone else. If it's just me and a blank screen, eventually I'm just going to go read Li'l Abner comics on the internerd somewhere.

I also may have made some inroads for more screenwriting down the line, so it was a successful afternoon all around. If you've been keeping up with things around here, the horse movie is still happening, but we've hit a few delays. It should be shooting in the May/June timeframe. On the plus side, I've finished the sequel and outlined part Three. And Four. I can be ambitious when need be.

*By any, any, any stretch of the imagination. Kirk Douglas. THAT'S an actor.



Also, this is either the best or worst cat ever.

Return with us now to those thrilling days of yesteryear...

And now, a story from the SharkFinHat vaults. The names have been changed to protect the guilty.

It was September, 1996. A young Jenny McCarthy was planning to leave Singled Out and conquer Hollywood. Joan Osborne was postulating what the situation would be if God was one of us. Mentos commercials were entering our collective consciousness.*

I was living in Athens and getting ready to attend the 21st birthday party for a good friend of mine. And attend we all did, ensuring that our friend got absolutely schnockered. Unfortunately, my idiot roommate decided he should get just as schnockered, which ended up with me sitting across from him at a table as he collapsed face down in his seat. I figured the night was pretty much at an end at this point, so I grabbed him by his arm and walked him a couple of blocks over to The Grill. I plopped him down on a bench and went to the payphone** to call a cab. I come back over, and he's completely passed out in some pine straw.

I sit him up and plead with him to get it together, as we were both 19 and therefore breaking several drinking laws. I finally get him to sit up. We're sitting there waiting when this guy comes and sits down beside us. Looks to be about our age, black guy, dressed more like a townie than a student. He introduces himself as Tony, as which point my roommate, let's call him Clark, shouts "Give me five, man!" Tony gives him five.

Then, Clark tells him "All I know is that black motherfuckers are cooler than white motherfuckers."

At this point, I run through all the things in my life I'll never get to do. I regret not asking out that cute redhead from English class.*** I'll never get to write the great American novel.

To his credit, Tony recognizes what a drunk dillhole Clark is being and says "Naw man, we're all the same." About this time, the cab pulls up and I throw Clark inside, say goodnight to Tony****, and we're on our way. Clark keeps trying to get the cab driver to give him five, at which point I slam my arm across Clark to keep him in the backseat. We finally get back to the apartment, where Clark stumbles into the bathroom. He falls out of the bathroom and across the hall a few minutes later, managing to break the door that covers our washer and dryer off its hinges. He had to fix it the next day, when he woke up and had no idea what happened.

What's the point of all this, you ask? Remember Clark's theory above, that black motherfuckers was cooler than white motherfuckers? Well, it turns out he was right. Please see below for proof.



*Years later, the parent company of my employer would own Mentos. DID I JUST BLOW YOUR MIND?

**Kids, ask your parents what a payphone was.

***I eventually did ask her out and we dated for a bit. Everything ended wretchedly.

****Many weeks later, we went to Krystal's at around 2 in the morning. Tony was working the register. I could tell he was trying not to laugh as soon as he saw us. I never said anything. I knew Clark didn't remember any of it.

Hurm.

So, Watchmen opens today. I saw it earlier this week, thanks to certain connections. The movie's really good and a knockout bit of filmmaking, but I'll be interested to hear what people who haven't read the book think. It's a very dense 2.5 hours, but as long as Paul Blart didn't challenge your way of thinking, you should be okay.

If you are a fan of the book, you'll find this pretty damned funny.

15 albums that changed my life

Cross-post from my Facebook page, because I am a junior high girl.

Cooped up inside all day, so Facebook meme ahoy. In 10 minutes, come up with 15 albums that changed your life. I went back and added some commentary to each when I was done.

1. R.E.M., Document. In 6^th grade, I had a dub of this on a tape with U2’s The Joshua Tree on the other side. I wore out the R.E.M. side, played the Joshua Tree maybe twice. I think it all goes back to this album for me. Still my favorite band. It was tough to say that for a few years.

2. Warren Zevon, Mutineer. Not the strongest album in his catalogue, but the first record of his I owned that wasn’t a greatest hits collection. I’d eventually get everything the man did. Still one of the best lyricists rock and roll has ever known.

3. The Dead Milkmen, Beelzebubba. A breath of fresh, profane air. The band that proved you could be funny, juvenile and smart all at once. I try to live by that code.

4. Guided by Voices mix—not an album, but a mix made for me by my friend Cary. I’d heard of them, but this was the first time I’d ever actually listened to them. After you hear Teenage FBI, there’s no going back.

5. Jack Logan, Bulk---“What do you mean, this guy just records on his boombox? His first record is a double album? Is it any good?” Uh, yeah, it was. Still is.

6. Drive-By Truckers, Gangstabilly—Saw these guys for the first time at a Merle Haggard tribute show at the 40 Watt. I picked up their first album not long after, and that was where it all started. I’ve seen them play dozens of times in the last 12(!) years, and they helped influence the way I think about being from the south and all that brings with it.

7. The Smithereens, Blown to Smithereens. Including a greatest hits record is kind of a cheat, but this is the album that got me into power pop. From there, I went to Cheap Trick. Cheap Trick to Big Star. Big Star to Marshall Crenshaw. Crenshaw to Sugar…

8. Body Count, self-titled—This album really wasn’t all that good. But it was the one that got secretly passed around once “Cop Killer” was banned, so that got to be my little teenage rebellion. This was also the bridge that led me to listen to more rap and hip-hop, so it’s got that going for it, too.

9. Wilco, Being There—I heard about a band called Uncle Tupelo when I was in high school. Never listened to them. Didn’t pick up Wilco’s first record, either. Finally got hit over the head with a bunch of reviews for Being There. Bought it on a lark and couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Smart, literate rock and roll that didn’t sound like anything else I knew then. Immense.

10. Bob Dylan, Time Out of Mind—A latter day Dylan record, but it hit at just the right time for me. He was back in full force just as I was developing my musical sensibilities. I got to see him play not long after that, a show that holds a lot of meaning for me. The lyrics from this one hit me harder and harder as I get older.

11. Nirvana, Nevermind—I was actually a little late to the party on this one. It passed me by in high school because I felt like I was getting the band crammed down my throat. Once I finally just listened to the damn thing, I realized it deserved every bit of the praise it got. Plus, it gave us Dave Groh’s career.

12. Tom Waits, Rain Dogs—The first Tom Waits record I ever bought. That summer, I was working as a dispatcher for the college police in my hometown and I had to work some insane shifts. When I was working nights and sleeping during the day, I would put this album on to listen to as I drifted off. I dreamt a lot about pirates that summer.

13. Alejandro Escovedo, More Miles than Money—The album that got me into alt-country, a genre that I ended up spending several thousands of dollars on.

14. The Ramones, self-titled—Their first album was the shotgun blast of a revolution. It still sounds fresh and new, and they rightfully influenced countless bands that I love. I can listen to the Ramones every day of my life and never get bored with them.

15. Johnny Cash, Unchained—The second of his American comeback records and the first one I bought. It’s the sound of a man reclaiming his crown and it opened my eyes not only to his back albums, but Willie, Merle, Waylon, etc.

Sigh.

Randy Bewley, guitarist for Pylon, died this afternoon. Pylon was a fantastic band, and without them and their influence, the Athens music scene would have been much less rich. If Athens hadn't become Athens, chances are my experiences from ages 18-22 would have been every different, and I probably wouldn't have become the guy I am now. Raise a toast to Randy and blast "Crazy" fuckin' loud.

Hey, Atlanta music nerds

Tomorrow, February 24th, you have two really excellent shows to choose from, because whoever's in charge of the universe always likes to put me in Sophie's Choice position when it comes to shows I want to see:

1. ...And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead at The Earl. You know these guys, you love them. But did you know that Aaron Ford, my good friend from high school, is now their drummer? No, didn't think you did. Aaron was sitting next to me in our group photo senior year. When they printed it in the yearbook, they had to block Aaron out because he was flipping the bird. Dude's a great drummer and an even better human, great to see him getting some recognition. They're doing an in-store at Criminal at 7 pm, too.

2. Marah is playing at Smiths. I've been a fan of these guys for years, but this is the first chance I've had to see them play live. Folky, punky rock and roll, done the way it should be. Really psyched about this.

I've given you the tools. Go forth and do what you will.

Ode to My Headache

Oh, headache
You arrive every afternoon, usually around three
My temples ache, my eyes go blurry
I looketh out the window, needing a respite from the computer
Lo! I see the Arbys

I went to the doctor
Expecting to be told there was a tumor in the brain
"Stress and dehydration" she said
Later she felt my beanbag
Awkward, for she is cute

Back to you, headache
Advil, I gobble by the handful
Like they were those popcorn flavored jelly beans
Which are awesome
Headache, I shall see you on the morrow
Dammit, I miss Chappelle

My current favorite joke

A juggler is on his way to a gig, speeding because he's running late. As luck would have it, he gets pulled over. The cop sees the juggler's gear in the back of the car, consisting of torches and lighter fluid. The cop starts to get mighty suspicious. The juggler explains what he does for a living and where he's going.

"Oh, yeah?" says the cop. "Prove it!"

So, the juggler gets his gear out, lights the torches and starts juggling them. Right about this time, a couple drives by.

"Goddamn!" the man says to his wife. "The drunk driving test is getting hard!"

Children's book idea

Riki-Tiki Fuck You.

I'll be honest, I got nothing for this. The title just popped into my head and made me laugh. So, how are you? Good?

Mary, mother of God!

Listen to this!

Turn it up! Turn it way, way the fuck up!

The day the music died indeed

50 years ago, a plane went down. There's nothing I can say about it that hasn't been said by a lot of people more educated than me, but I will add that I'm really glad Waylon didn't get on that plane.

That's not what this is about. My favorite record store on the planet, Ella Guru, is closing its doors at the end of the month. I've been shopping at Don's store for almost 10 years, at three different locations. The place was always packed with great music, and I usually left with whatever I came in for and a couple of things I didn't know existed until I went in.

What did this place mean to me? I'll put it this way: on 9/11, when my office closed down early, I didn't feel like going home to an empty apartment, so I went record shopping. I stopped by Ella Guru and picked up Bob Dylan's "Love and Theft" and John Hiatt's "The Tiki Bar is Open." I hung out for a bit, then went on my way and tried to make some sense of the day, while hearing "Mississippi" for the very first time. It gave me something real to hold on to for a while.

A friend of mine stopped by my place the other day, took a look around and told me "they have music online now, you know" after seeing the stacks and stacks and stacks of albums around here. I know, I know. But it's hard for me to let go of the experience of opening that record you've been waiting so long for. I can still clearly remember hauling ass across town that day in high school to go pick up R.E.M.'s "Monster." (Yeah, I know. Not their best album, but a huge event for my friends and me at the time.) I remember the smell of that cardboard sleeve when I got the case open. I miss that feeling.

If you're local, please stop by Ella Guru while you still can. I'm going to put on the Eccentric Soul compilation I picked up there a few weeks ago and take a look back. Tomorrow, we all look forward. Thanks, Don. I'll see you the next time Alejandro's in town.

Charles Bronson

Because sometimes, only Charles Bronson will do.



CHARLES BRONSON.

Interior dialogue

"Man, this new X-Men cartoon isn't very good."

"Hey, genius. You're 31. The target demographic for this show is probably 10. 10! And you weren't even a big X-Men fan when you were a kid."

"I...that's a good point actually. Okay. I guess that's it for superhero cartoons for me."

"FINALLY."

"All right. Hey, I can still watch Spongebob, right?"

"Of course. Patrick's funny as hell."

"Introspection leading to a little bit of growth high five!"

*slap*

How the other half lives

*ring, ring*

"Hello?

"Will, it's Beth."

"Beth from the KISS song?!"

"You're an idiot."

"Yes.

"I scored free tickets to the opening night gala for an antiques show."

"..."

"Free booze. Free snacks. It's normally 125 bones to get into this thing."

"Pick me up at 7."

And so, Beth (former co-worker, friend who gives me the occasional kick in the ass when necessary) and I went to this big honkin' cathedral where they were having the antiques show. As well pull up into the parking lot, we see people dressed up like they were going to the prom. Beth had her bohemian look going that she wears so well, and I looked like a homeless person, as is standard. As we get into the lobby, we see whole bunch of hair plugs and Botox around. Awesome.

Wine!

After a few minutes, the doors open and we head into a room full of stuff that I can barely identify. We find our friend Christopher who has a booth for the show, and he advises us to quickly make our way to the food before the crowd descends upon it like vultures. Beth and I haul ass to the food. And yea verily, the food was good. I inhaled a couple of pounds of pork tenderloin and salmon, while Beth partook of the lamb.

Wine!

We wander around the show for a bit. The best dealer name we saw was The Big Chandelier, which sold, yes, big chandeliers. At the booth next door, I found a vanity that was selling for $11,000. I started to point this out to Beth, but she had found a table selling for $45,000. I decided to get out of that booth before I tripped over my lummox-ass feet and broke something. On the way back downstairs, we saw a big brass horse head selling for 3 large.

Wine!

We went back to Christopher's booth, where he showed us a few of the pieces he had for sale. This included a vase made in 1640 selling for $14,000. Now, here's the bit where I actually learned something. Christopher was telling us about the history of the piece, how its creation was influenced by what was going on in the world at the time and the painstaking process used to create its artwork. Antiques still aren't my thing (except old LPs, I guess), but I started to understand it, the same way someone might start to get it if they got me started talking about Larry Brown books or something.

Then Christopher made me hold a plate that was selling for $1,000. If you'll see above, I'd had three glasses of wine at this point and was very, very glad when he took the plate back.

Beth and I checked out the cathedral's sanctuary and were both pleasantly surprised when it didn't burst into flames after we walked in. After desserts and not having our names drawn for door prizes, we called an end to the evening. Beth had the premiere of Lost to watch and I probably needed to get home and argue about Kirk vs. Picard* on the internet or something.

So, we spent an evening in the upper crust (actually, I kind of got the feeling a lot of the attendees were middle crust desperately trying to be upper crust, but that's another essay). Not my world, but a fun place to visit for a night. If anybody needs me, I'll be down here among the proletariat.

*Kirk, dammit!

Memory lapse

I'm a little concerned. Apparently, I made a King Kong movie and have no memory of it.

Hear a great song and help some animals

Hey folks,

The incredible Neko Case has a new album coming out, and you can download the new song "People Got a Lotta Nerve" here:

http://www.anti.com/media/download/708

For every blog that re-posts the song, she and Anti- are donating $5 to a the Best Friends animal rescue group. If you do the iLike thing, they'll donate $1 for everyone who iLikes it. If you're the blogging type, please re-post. More info on the group is below, and you can read more about the whole effort here.



See? I'm not always a ranting prick.

Two facts

1. If you're looking forward to a show by The Dead, you deserve pretty much whatever happens to you.

2. This is awesome. If you're at work, you'll probably want to throw some headphones on.

Making it happen, then watching it happen

A word of warning: this entry is very me-centric and skirts around the edges of egomania. Let me assure you that I'm still as self-loathing as ever. Death, taxes, and me hating myself: depend on it!

About a year ago, I wrote a short story to submit to a horror anthology. Said horror anthology rejected the story, in part because I accidentally wrote a comedy, but I had fun writing it and showed it to some friends. Swarney, filmmaker extraordinaire, told me to turn it into a script. So, I turned it into a script. Swarney says "I'm doing this next." He gets his two leads, one of whom is a good friend and a beloved Atlanta actor. I don't know the other lead, but if Swarney wants him, then I'm sold.

This morning, we had our first script readthrough with Matt and Jeremiah. The four of us were all kind of worn out from our respective Saturdays, but watching those two guys take control of the characters and get them figured out was incredible. We read through it once, with Swarney leading things and me filling in one for one of the supporting roles. Everybody stops once the food arrives (as an aside, the weekend brunch menu at Manuel's Tavern is greasy and awesome), then we run through it again, switching the leads. Those two guys owned it by the second time through, and I found myself laughing at lines I had written because they sold it so well.

I was also laughing because what I had written was genius, but that's a given.

It's just kind of weird that this riduculous story that I wrote one afternoon last year while stuck at home, bored and depressed during a snowstorm has now lead to actors learning lines, locations being scouted, and people commiting a lot of time and effort. It's gratifying and humbling and I'm looking forward to being a part of it as it develops. More on this as it happens.

R.I.P. Ron

Ron Asheton died, as you most likely know by now. If you don't know him, I feel sorry for you. The music that he made with the Stooges helped to wake me up to the world. That grinding, metallic, beautiful noise made me realize that there was more to music than what I was hearing on the radio. Once I heard the Stooges and the MC5, the old me was done, and so much for the better. I hope he and Johnny Thunders are jamming together right now. Here's a little something that pays tribute to the man's work. For Christ's sake, go seek out the originals.

Car trouble

I'm driving down a mountain road and hit an icy patch. The car skids out of control, and I'm headed for certain doom. I know I am going to die. With my final fate racing towards me, I scream out "Help me, Jesus!" like any good atheist would do. The car suddenly rights itself. I'm going to live. I breath out a sigh of relief. I look over to the passenger side, and there's Jesus, sitting shotgun.

Oh, crap.

I know he’s going to want something in return, like for me to go help the blind in Calcutta. I give him $5 and let him out at the next gas station. I don’t have time for a holy crusade. I have too much to do. Rock of Love 3 ain't going to watch itself.

Happy new year

The calendar has rolled around another 365 days and we're here again, a chance for redemption and renewal. To acknowledge the mistakes of the past and move forward with fresh...

The hell with it. Some good things will happen to you in the next year and so will some bad things. Try to act surprised. Let's all meet back here in a year's time and compare notes.

To commemorate the new year, here's my favorite joke of all time, told to me by Cary Christopher many years ago:

A guy is suffering from impotence and goes to the doctor. The doctor tells him that he's in luck, a new procedure has been developed to take care of the condition. A muscle from the trunk of a baby elephant is implanted into the man's groinal regional, with no harm to the elephant in the process.

"Let's do this thing," the man says.

He has the procedure done and it's a success. After his recuperative period, he goes out on a date. He and his ladyfriend are enjoying a lovely dinner when his dick comes up from under the table, grabs a biscuit, and goes back underneath the table.

There is an understandably awkward pause.

Finally, the woman asks "Can you do that again?"

"Yeah, but I don't think my ass can hold another biscuit."