Haha

Listen to Agrufulis overrock a popcombos attempt at T. Waits.



Classic...

Peeping Tom

I think Peeping Tom by Michael Powell is tied with Hitchcock Psycho and Hooper's The Texas Chainsaw Massacre as some of my favorite movies to watch in the fall.



I don't even want to tell you about it. I was just thinking about my lost copy and how cool of a movie it is.



It was written by Leo Marks. He was a codemaker during WWII, and developed a method of sending coded transmissions on pieces of silk. He also used to craft these great little poems that were actually coded messages for the French Resistance. My favorite one is this...

The life that I have is all that I have
And the life that I have is yours.
The love that I have of the life that I have
Is yours and yours and yours.

A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have,
Yet death will be but a pause,
For the peace of my years in the long green grass
Will be yours and yours and yours.

I always thought that'd be a great song. That poem was delivered by a woman named
Violet Szabo.

I think she looks like Ingrid Bergman. I was getting all nostalgic, and went looking for a copy of Sukiyaki by Kyu Sakamoto. I perused bunch o' odd LPs, in spite of my Vinyl Buying Freeze. I found a page with 30 0r so versions. I just love that song. If a little innocent fingrsnapping isn't your thing, then grab some chunks of the Conet Project cookie, and mash it up in your mouth witha Derek Bailey interview. You could try to find some Guirdjeff, just to be a little cooler than the person across the bus from you. You could download Van Morrison's Contractual Obligation album with Love songs about Ringworm. I actually like some of the tunes. You could make post-ironic staments while spinning a mix of advertising 7 inches. Or... you could just fucking listen to Sukiyaki...

Im not sure what this guy is saying. I thought it was a white power site for a minute, but now I think it's pro-gorilla, but I can't be sure... It's worth it for the pictures.



Holy fucking shit! This guy runs up a fucking mountain!



Pardon my language.

Would you hear me if I said "Fuck You"?

The guys I work with are kind of dicks. Normally, I don't care. Sometimes, they totally ignore me. Usually, they generally ignore me. I say "I downloaded this weird Michael Jackson song that features LL Cool J." They don't even look at me. They even ignore direct questions... I want to drop to my knees and shout "Please don't leave my life!" grrr
It's more than getting snubbed. They have an unshakable institutional feel, as if they're yardhard and ready to shiv yours truly... Scary monsters!



Agrufulis has been getting into this LP I loaned him awhilago, Five O'Clock Bells by Lenny Breau. Solo guitar albums generally come off as all Windham Hilly, but this guy is amazing. Do yourself a favor and dig yourself some. I found a few MP3s here, HeRe, InfoHERE, BioHERE. I really wish I could have found the song Five O'Clock Bells. It's a great song and Lenny even sings on it. As he says, he's not much of a singer, so think of it as "...an instrumental, with Lyrics."
I read a story about how a producer came to his house, and he was playing 3 Blind Mice & Mary Had a Little Lamb simultaneously, in 3/4 & 4/4 respectively. When asked why he obviously devoted so much time figuring out how to play this, he replied "Because I'm the only one who can do it." It came off as endearingly nerdy in the article.



Here's where I find my new tunes every day. I've started making CDs that I arrange chronologically, and, by extension with apologies to Hornby, biographically.



It puts the lotion on its skin! Just watch it. You've got to love an Indie Llovvessonngg that contains the line, "I'll use your skull for a bowl." Isn't that right, Precious? Just put the lotion in the fucking basket!



I love some classy Cheesecake pinups. Scroll down for some old-skool Playmates.



I was drinking with a Taiwanese man once. A friend of ours made a joke about eating dogs. Kyri represented. "I can't help it if some of my brothers eat dog!" I said, "Mexicans eat Dogs?"



Terrorists have the best band names...



I love these paintings.



Have you ever wondered who's the coolest girl in all the world? It's Elaina. Glowing fairies live in her nose...



I don't know what this video is all about. I know it's about Pi, but... I'll just say that it's worth watching just to hear an MC boast that he "knows this Pi shit backwards and forwards."



Bathroom Grafitti... Lots of it.



Oh Yeah! I found something I lost... My Vibrator!

s#!t

I just lost an extensive post because of some computronic fart. Unfortunately, I cleaned out my folders as I was doing it. Big long post... reckon it musta been about this big. (Comedian then holds out only one of his hands, as if sizing up an imaginary fish. Waits for laughter.) Oh well! Only real loss was this funny ad for a "Vibrator" from the 50's. It showed this Americature of this dude giving himself, what can only be described as being, a Neck Job. Watch some uncensored Full House Outtakes. Watch Mitch Hedberg be funny. Watch cute Japanese bunnypeople reenact D-Day from th Amrican POV. Speaking of WWII, check out this historical Plastic Surgery Page. I don't know what this is. I think it's some sort of commercial... See, He's a ONE-Armed Fisherman. I'm so pissed I lost an awesome post. Let's see what I can remember... I found this old poster,


Which is, obviously, the source of the Misfits Skull Icon,


Whic reminded me of this tidbit of Bloomington lore involving Glenn Danzig, in town at the time, and Danzig, standing right fucking behind said guy at that exact moment, and, in turn, beating shit out of said guy. No known video exists of that exchange. I do, however, have video of Danzig talking shit, and, as a matter of fairness, getting knocked the fuck out, himself.



All of the aggression in the air... It's enough to make cute little Bjork beat the shit out of someone. "Welcome to Bangkok!"



I've been spun out on the new Fiona Apple for days. I just picked up the Dual Disk version with live videos. I know I'm a slut. I'm buying the Vinyl, too. The footage of her at Largo with Nickel Creek is really great. Goddamn! Chris Thile is a badass Mandolinian!



Check out the video for Not About Love at her site. Big bearded Zach just lipsynchs while reading from a sheet of notebook paper. Funny. It blows her previous Lolita stuff out of the water. I feel like the video for criminal led lots of people to just dismiss her. Take Heed. If you make a video in your underwear, play football, or something. It's funnier, and it's funner.



I can't remember anything else from, what shall heretofore be referred to as being, the lost post. Pimp Juice? Crunk Sauce? Try the bottled fury of the Seagal!



If you need a fresh reggae mix, go here.



Music videos can be cool. Who knew?



The extragavance of the Hair Metal era of LA is often demonstrated by the No Brown M&Ms clause in Van Halen's Rider. The number 5 explained to me that this was actually canny prudence on their part. Their shows at the time were so complex and sprawling that one mistake at a venue could potentially bring the whole circus to a cataclysmic halt. The included the candy clause at the very end of the rider, simply to ensure that they've read the whole thing. It's hard to pay attention to all of the details when you're doing blow and getting blown. Listen to Eddie gargle wine for breakfast and talk about his mom dying on some morning radio show.



I can't think of a Make-Hitler-Squeal-like-a-Piggy joke...


Watch This.



Beware of the Blog. This place is big fun. It has been a loong time since I've had a pint of Genius.



While I'm filling my pants with music videos here, allow me to drop the Unicorns L.A. You must admit that "lalala/Unicorns L.A./lalala/Unicorns L.A./heyheyhey..." is a line in a song.



Some part of me actually likes it. I think it's my ass. Don't do Drugs.



What else can I say other than people on acid eating hot dogs, ferreals.



On a lighter note, Young boomboxes in love.

The last 3 times I wanted to punch someone were this week

All three of these champions started unsolicited conversations with me at a Bar where my friend KJP works. #1 was a classic mumblemouth rummy who kept muttering "goodfuckingluck" and, as a complete and recurring non sequitur "U.S. Steel". He called me a Geek and pointed. #2 wouldn't lay off the ungrateful "Negroes" in Louisiana. I just steered that conversation towards Mark Twain, about whom, he knew a surprising amount. #3... I'll write more about him when I have more time on my hands and coffee in my blood.
2 tidbitsabout drunky #3; "What kind of books do you like to read," he says upon being informed and assured and re-assured that I do indeed know less about sports than a little girl, and that I spend my time reading, instead. "I read it all, but I keep coming back to the same group of macho mid-century fiction: Steinbeck, Fante, Miller, Saroyan...", I proffered, keeping my penchant for anti-colonial, hysterically Homoerotica to myself. "You know what you should read?" The ? brought me pause. What should I read? Anna Karenina? Madame Bovary? War and Peace? No. I should read A Purpose-Driven Life.... I bit my tongue to keep from retorting that he should probably have a go at Chicken Soup for my Dick.
The subject eventually turned towards music. I told him I like the Blues a great deal. He perked up surprised and popped out a sound-bite fart,"Negroes?" Again, Chicken Soup for my Dick.
He also asked, in ALL SERIOUSNESS, who the "High Yellow Queer" he was trying to remember was, even cursing, to himself and under his breath "Queerer than a 3$ Bill." I felt as if I was Brer RTP debating with a Tar-Brained Baby. Oh yeah, It was Johnny Mathis, who, I hear tell, puts on a hell of a show.



Take your mind off it with the wonders of modern Magnetism, or weirdweird Dance Punk Video. Didn't work? Adorable Japanese Robot Drum Solo? Maybe just another fuctup istraction pic...



To think, I thought sweaters looked stupid on dogs. In the interest of equal time, from Dicks to Cunts.



This video reminds me of that old school Weird Al interpretation of that one Dire Straits MTV video.



Sheet Music for Native American Songs. I thought the SQUIRMarmy might like this... If you're gonna do a little hayhoya dance, at least do it all around the world. Oh! Drunky #3 was in a Fraternity (ser-prize). When I told him I wasn't, he asked why. Here's why.



Check out this awesome kids book... on a lighter note. I've got stuff to do, so suck on this, in the meantime.

REA lis TIC pig MAK eup

Actually listened to Famous Blue Raincoat by Leonard Cohen at 4 in the morning. I slept fitfully on a bed stripped bare after I got home. My linens had been dropped off at a Mexican laundry days ago, and only picked up that morning. I didn't bother with it, because I was not set for sleeping, linen-wise, or other. Coffee and smokes was my first accomplishment. I treat the pair singularly, as I view them as inextricable delicacies. Two hot larges, numbered 1 & 2, respectively, are to be consumed numerically.
Speaking of which, I'm sick of snide coffeeshop baristoes oh-so-subtly correcting me when I order a large. Fuck you! Give me the big one on the right, because I won't say Venti. I an increasingly tense relationship with a Baristo at a shop down the block from the shop where I worked. I'd order a large daily. Daily, he'd say something;"One Venti coming up.","Beth, Can you grab a Venti for me.", et. al.... Shit, It took him a month to lay off the biscotti oversell. You have to ask? I'll tell the Manager to post a note. "That one guy doesn't want any Biscotti." It all came to a head when he tried, like a tricksy little monkey, to trick me. I ordered a large, as per usual. He turned towards the drip. I breathed a sigh of relief. We finally have an understanding. This coffee cold war is over! Just then, and dramatically, he turned with an understated Supervillian zeal. "You did said Venti... ... ... Right?" I was a simultaneously a little taken aback & flattered. This little bastard just dusted off some bold shit right in front of God & everybody.
"I said large."
"Same thing," with a shrug.
"Apparently," with a prisonyard headnod.
He pops the lid on and settles it on the counter, snug in its cardboard cozy. It's a Mexican standoff. He's not making eye contact, and all of his motions are fluid and Kabuki, redolent with obvious practiced ease & professional Baristic grace. He stabs Subtotal, looks me square in the eye, and lunges. "Would you like a Biscotti with that?" He's soooo proud. He can hardly keep the smirk down until that foreseen moment when I slink out the door, tail betwixt legs. " You mean to say, would you like a Biscotto with that... ... ... Don't you?" Who's the one smirking at that point? me, that's who.
"You see, Biscotti is the plural."
"Gotcha."
"And, no, I don't want any biscottis."
"Gotcha."
This reaction isn't rooted in Xenophobia. It's just unsettling what is revealed about us when something is so forcibly shoved through an American filter, and then mushily foisted. I feel like an ass saying Croissant, most times. I feel embarassed saying Croissan'wich. I don't even know where the apostrophe goes...



I stopped at the crap strip mall music store to not buy an overpriced LP to play while I clean my house. I picked up the new Broken Social Scene, which, thus far, is good. It seems noisy and swirly with the vocals low in the mix, so it's to be listened to while driving, preferably straight & in the early afternoon & halfway through the drive, Low 70s... new sweatshirt. In all honesty, I probably will listen to it while I clean my house.



Kal-El and I were talking last night about how Gamelan would be a Badass name for a kid. Then again, so would Badass. I vote for Spacebird...



I was going to try for some wry commentary on the zombified corpse of the hippy subculture, but it came out sounding bitter. Here's some cool footage of John Lennon backed by the Rolling Stones.
Is it me, or are JL and MJ a little... cozy?



Hilarious Anime Jiggle....



I adore Fiona Apple's new album. She's got a great new live performance video up at herspace. I was digging around, and it turns out that her sister, Moira Maggart, is a professional Jazz Chanteuse. I can understand the adoption of a stage name for Fiona.

I found this superb design blog. This guy has Cigarettes equipped with a strikable match tip!