Don't You Ever Get Tired of Being Wrong, Marge?

I want a job where I can be wrong almost all the time. A job where I can take pot shots at people who are actually doing what I can only dream about, and cut them down. I want to say one thing one day, and then when I am proven wrong, be able to sidestep my original opinion for a more popular one. I want to make bold predictions, and then disown them the moment they don't happen. I want to hold someone up, put them on a pedestal and worship them. Then, I want to knock them down, spit on them and turn my back when they "fail" me. In short, I want to be a sports writer.

As a late comer to the world of sports (more specifically talking about sports) I view these jobs with envy. I want to shout my opinions to anyone who will listen, and then be able to backpedal faster than Lance Armstrong trying to avoid dog doo-doo. At my job, accuracy is one of the most important parts. I think it would be tremendously freeing to have a job where my performance is based not on how well I actually do my job, but how loudly I can say something and how deftly I can disguise the fact that it is a pile of crap.

All I want is the chance to pontificate about how absolutely essential it is for a certain athlete to do something, and then when it happens, move the goal post back another 50 yards and start again. And, when I can't find fault with an athlete's performance, I will find fault with his/her so called character. For writers, this usually means picking apart their comments, TV ads or shoe color. Anything to bring him or her back down to earth. So, I can feel superior. And, if you offend someone, well, just get them to yell at you, and you'll have column fodder for the rest of your career.

So, where do I sign up? It sounds like so much fun, like a dream actually. Believe me, I am an overly opinionated, mean, angry, grumpy person. Let me at these over-paid, over-blown, over-hyped jerks that I want to spend my life talking about.

Peyton Worshiper

Congratulations to my Peyton, and the Colts on their Superbowl victory. I knew you could do it.









(PS, was I right about the booty, or what?)

You Know?

It is amazing how the littlest thing can catch your ear or your eye, and you can't stop focusing on it, no matter how hard you try. I was recently forced to attend a useless training seminar at work. And, the presenter, had a verbal tick that threatened to drive me to madness. It was, You Know. Not the declarative, the question. Example? "We need to have these things in place, you know, because, you know it is the whole purpose of our business, you know." It was the most hellish two hours of my life.

I have no problem public speaking, and when I do, I have tried to make my speech patterns free of what I call verbal garbage. The ums, uhs, likes, whatevers and such are reserved for more colloquial speech. But, if I have to be on the radio, or talk to a group of co-workers, it is all business. This woman, who is very high up in my company said "You Know" over 200 times in 2 hours. That is crazy. Sometimes she wouldn't even finishing saying it, before she would start saying it again. That has to take a lot of talent.

I was completely lost on the message, because I was ticking off on a piece of paper every time those words left her lips. Even though I was warned of this behavior before the presentation began, I just couldn't focus on anything else. It makes you wonder how no one has ever approached her and said, "Hey, that is really annoying and unprofessional, please stop." You know?

Football Fantasy

Much has been made of the Peyton Manning/Tom Brady rivalry in football. So many articles have been written, so many shows dedicated to figuring it all out. Who is the better quarterback? Who will have the greater legacy upon retirement? Does the postseason play of Tom Brady trump the regular season play of Peyton Manning, when it comes to the definition of success? Who knows, and more importantly who cares? I wouldn't kick either of them out of bed for eating crackers, but the real question to me is: Who is hotter? Let's break it down shall we?

LOOKS: Now, some may say Brady is the more handsome QB, but I don't necessarily agree. Sure, chin dimples and model girlfriends are nice, but they are not everything. Peyton may not be man-model hot, but he is still really cute. Besides, sometimes a guy can be too pretty.
EDGE: Brady

STATS: And, I'm not talking football stats here, ladies. Peyton enjoys the slight height and weight advantage over Tom, and is one year older. But, let's face it, in those pants, we can all see what really matters. The butt. And, while both are of the quarter-bouncing variety, Peyton's seems a little better. Plus, he rocks the whole hot bod in that Gatorade commercial. (I still say the shirt was unnecessary)
EDGE: Manning

PERSONALITY/BRAINS: Some would argue that this category is unimportant. And, they may be right. But, I include it anyway, because I like a guy who can talk. Peyton got a bachelors degree in 3 years, has a Master's and was Phi Beta Kappa at Tennessee. Brady went to Michigan. As far as personality goes, I don't know either one of them, so I can only go by what I see on television. And, quite simply, Peyton is way funnier in his commercials than Brady is in his. EDGE: Manning

MARITAL STATUS: This one is pretty straight forward. Brady is single, Manning is not. Are you into available guys, or do you like to torture yourself lusting after those who are already taken. I like both, but let's face it, if there is even the slightest, teeny tiny chance of it happening, it makes it that much better.
EDGE: Brady

THE BACON: Now some may argue that a millionaire is a millionaire, and after a certain point, it doesn't matter anymore. Right, sure, okay. The guy who said that was probably not the highest paid player in NFL history. EDGE: Manning

INTANGIBLES: In sports, much is made of having "it." Whatever it is. Well, for me this one is also simple. It's really all a matter of personal taste. After all, this is my blog, and none of this means anything.
EDGE: Manning

So there you have it. Clearly Peyton is hotter. Sorry Tom, I guess you'll have to comfort yourself with your supermodels and stacks of cash. Hopefully, you'll muddle through. As for you, Peyton. Call me. There is always room on the Top 5 list.

Idol Threats

In the interest of full disclosure, I must admit that I am a Kelly Clarkson fan. I wasn't at first, but I am now. But, that fact not withstanding, I find American Idol repugnant in every way. From the shameless plants during the "audition" phase, to the lack of originality in the judges comments, to the final product which can only be described as a steaming pile of crap.

Granted, I don't watch the show, but I've seen enough pieces of it, and heard enough about it to get the idea. America decides who is the best singer. Clearly they have done a bang up job so far. Reuben? Clay? Fantasia? You mean to tell me that in season 1, Justin was the 2nd best person in the contest? Whatever. Stop telling me how compelling and great the show is. Stop trying to convince me that the "feud" between judges is real. Stop appearing on magazine covers. Most of all, stop trying to force feed us these watered-down pop candy wannabes. If you are interested in real talent, that is fine. But, we all know that is not the case.

Just don't look, maybe it will go away.

New Year, New Top 5

Oh, what the hell? Why not? It's a brand new year, and I feel it's time for some upgrades to the top 5 list. These decisions are never easy, but sometimes change is good. And, let's face it, it's always nice to get some new blood on the list, just to shake things up. So, here we are:

1. Henry Rollins - I just don't think this one can change any time soon. Maybe if he would do something really awful, like Paris Hilton.

2. Liev Schreiber - What can I say about this guy but, Oh. My. God. Love him. Coming to one of my favorite shows, CSI. Made a Ben Affleck film bearable to watch, and well, he's adorable.

3. Ioan Gruffudd - Here is a newbie, and a hottie. I can totally blame this one on my husband. See, he's into naval history, and made me watch a bunch of made-for-TV movies, called Horatio Hornblower. And, you guessed it, he was Horatio. Also appeared in Titanic and Fantastic Four, but I won't hold that against him.

4. Justin Theroux - Thoroughly delicious, loved him on Six Feet Under, and Strangers with Candy. He is brilliant and lovely.

5. Chris Garver - From Miami Ink. Love his work. I would let him tattoo me anytime. Smart, funny, and my god, is he ever a cutie.

So, there you go. Some new crushes, for my new year. Now, to find them, stalk them and make it happen.

The Best Christmas Ever

There was a time, long ago, before I was the happy married person I am now, where I dated a few losers. This one particular loser and I were in the throes of a terrible relationship, fraught with peril and ridiculousness. Despite this, we were at the mall one day, and he decided he wanted to buy me a ring. No, not that kind of ring. A crappy, department store ring. So, we went and he picked this garnet ring with a gold band for me. I wore it for a while, but soon the relationship was crashing down, and it was time to bail out.

Like any smart woman, with a crazy man she wants to get rid of, I broke up with him over the phone (on Thanksgiving). After the break, I returned to college, and went to his apartment, to retrieve the few things I had left there. He ran home to his mommy, with the cat he bought me. I was getting my things, when I noticed a yellow piece of paper on his entertainment center, next to where I put my keys. It was the receipt for the ring. I stood there for a moment, and then I took it and put it in my pocket. As I left that apartment for the last time, I knew what I had to do.

The next day, I went to the department store, and returned that ring. He had paid cash, you see. And, despite the sales lady's reluctance, I got a cash refund, not store credit. After that, I went and bought my family Christmas presents with the money, and even picked up something for myself. I returned to campus, and couldn't wait to tell everyone about it.

Through the years, I have told this story many times, to many people. And, though I have had more spectacular Christmas moments since then, it still remains the BEST Christmas ever.

I Can Stop Any Time I Want To

I must admit, that I am somewhat addicted to my iPod. I often look at people strangely when they are talking about new songs on the radio. The only radio I am exposed to is the horrible crap I am forced to listen to at work. Soft rock and the like. When I am in my car, or working out, or on my computer, it is all iPod, all the time.

But, I find myself wanting more. Apparently, I am not alone. The new sleek and small iPods, make my 4th generation 40 gig iPod feel like a dinosaur. When I listen to it while I walk, I feel like everyone else has on a Walkman, and I am carrying the boom box on my shoulder. I must admit, that little Shuffle, or even a Nano would be much less cumbersome for working out and the like. Plus, they come in fun colors, and the Shuffle just clips to you, like a pen. Then, I could get a new, bigger memory iPod for home listening, and use Otis (the O.G. iPod) for the car. That would be perfect.

But, it does feel somewhat wasteful. To want another iPod. But, is it really? Isn't just like having more than one radio, or television at this point? For some reason, having so many iPods seems different. But, for someone like me, with so much music, breaking it into different sets would be great. Ah, to be independently wealthy, and be able to have as many as I wanted.

Or, if Santa needs any last minute ideas, the Shuffle would be great. Thanks.

You REALLY Shouldn't Have

It's that time of year again. The time of giving, sharing, joy and candy. And, for many of us, it's is the unlucky time of the Secret Santa. You know, draw a name out of a hat, and buy them some crappy present for under $15 dollars. Most of us have done this at some point in our lives, and I don't know about you, but I always get the shaft. I remember once in elementary school, we did Secret Santa. I bought my person a hardcover book, and I got . . wait for it . . a tiny plastic horse. I didn't even like horses!! Clearly, this person spent all of $1.50 on me, and I spent at least $10 on them.

Fast forward many years later, and here I am again. The receiver of the worst Secret Santa gift, yet again. I watched everyone open their good gifts, that actually required some thought. For my trouble this year, I got two small stuffed dogs. I KNOW!! What is that about, you ask? No idea. So, I am here to help all of you suffering this year, with instructions on how to fake the right reaction to your horrible gift.

The first thing is to react quickly. Don't think about how shitty the gift is, and say something like "Oh, wow. Thank you so much. I love it." Try and avoid eye contact as much as possible. Look at the gift, and seem to study it, as if you're trying to examine all the greatness. Smile big, and maybe even (at least in my case) hug it close to you. That is all you need to make most people believe you are not super pissed about it. Some will not be fooled, but as long as the giver (if you can call them that) doesn't suspect, you're home free.

I call on all people to think when giving these gifts. I know it's a drag, but there is someone counting on you, and you don't want to let them down. And if all else fails, how about a GOD DAMNED GIFT CARD?!! How hard is that?

You Better Watch Out

Merry Christmas from The Onion.

You'll never see Santa the same after reading that.

Naturally

As I have always suspected, while blondes may "have more fun", it's the redheads who are better in bed. All I have to say is, Naturally. According to recent studies, redheads rule between the sheets, more than their brunette and blonde sisters. Of course, I am not surprised by this, as I am a redhead.

Now, before my readership can protest, I am not a natural redhead. But, I have been red, in one form or another, since high school (and that was eons ago). And, despite a brief, and ill-advised foray into blonde world, I returned to my roots (god, this post is rife with puns) and was red once again. I have often said that if God had been thinking ahead, he could have saved me a lot of money by making me the redhead I am so clearly meant to be at birth. But, between me and my stylist, we right the cosmic wrong every 5 to 6 weeks.

So, thanks to those saucy Germans, now everyone knows what my man already knows. Naturally.

But, How? I mean, in what way?

So, I've been doing this blog for a while now, and I really think it's fun. But, I have to admit, there is a part of me that was secretly hoping that some one would happen upon this blog, find it most fascinating, and just have to hire me to blog for their newspaper/magazine/other blog. So far, however, that has not happened. As a matter of fact, I'd like to give a shout out to my (approximate) readership of 5.

So, if anyone does happen upon this blog, and even if you don't think it's that great (I assure you I can do better) and knows how to get one of those gigs, let me know. Lord knows, the job I have now isn't breaking my bank. So, even if it's a crappy paying job, I would take it.

Take it from me, NO ONE knows more useless stuff than I, and no one has more copious and vocal opinions. Thank you for your time.

*Am I the only one who thinks it odd, that the blogger.com spell check does not recognize the word blog?

Shut the F*^k Up!!

Okay, I'm not some overly-patriotic-flag-waving-Dixie-Chicks-hating-Toby-Keith wannabe, but I have had enough of celebrities and their bullshit. If it's not telling us all to vote, or give money for this or that, it is them telling us, more often than not, that we suck.

From Johnny Depp to Madonna to Gwyneth Paltrow, they all can't wait to tell us how stupid, boorish, illiterate, fat and starved for culture we are. Then, they want us all to rush out, buy their crappy records, watch their movies and televised concert appearances. They want us to be shocked by their "edgy" mock crucifixion, they want us to be impressed by their fake European accents. They, in short, want us to give them money. Well, I'm not buying it.

Gwyneth Paltrow is a piece of shit actress, and her and her whingey husband needs to (how shall I put this in terms they will understand) sod off!! God, they are so right, the British are so charming!! I love how Johnny Depp can forget all about 21 Jump Street and Madonna disowns Desperately Seeking Susan, and little Gwynee. I'm sure her shilling for Estee Lauder has nothing to do with the capitalist goal of making money.

But, there is an easy solution. Just don't look. Stop buying their crap. Eventually, maybe they will go to England and stay there. Stay in the cultural haven that brought the world Victoria Beckham and Benny Hill. When will we butt-scratching, beer-swilling Americans learn to appreciate the fine example set by British soccer hooligans and the Gallagher brothers?

That England, class all the way!!

Titty Barred

I have read so much lately about the hubbub over public breastfeeding. There was the outrage over an exposed breast on the cover of a parenting magazine in a doctor's office. And, more recently, a woman thrown off a plane for refusing to cover herself with a blanket while breastfeeding.

My problem with all this is: why is it that breasts can sell any thing is the world, from cars to McDonalds. But, we can't tolerate the sight of what a breast was actually made to do. Contrary to popular opinion, breasts don't exist to be ogled. They don't exist to be squished together and hiked up in order to fit into the narrow, ridiculous male fantasy world. We have no trouble having our children walk through book stores, grocery stores, and other places that sell periodicals, and see Pamela Anderson's gigantic breasts on a magazine cover. But, put a child nursing on that breast, and all bets are off. Little Johnny, or big Johnny for that matter can't handle it. Neither can other women, come to that. It's gross, it's disgusting, it's rude.

You know what I think it rude? Back hair, body odor, exposed butt crack, exposed thongs, jelly rolls hanging out of ill-fitting tube tops and grabbing and scratching at your crotch in public. But, believe me, if anyone were thrown out of establishments, or off planes for those offenses, we'd never hear the end of it.

Let it go, people. Boobs are meant to be used to feed babies. That is a fact. If you don't like it, don't look. And, while I don't advocate throwing your tit on the table at a restaurant, if someone is being discrete about it, mind your own fucking business.

Everybody in the Club Get Random

Here are a few random things:

Go here for the THE BEST WEBSITE EVER!!

Greazy and I are on the radio tonight, at 11pm eastern time.

There is nothing funnier than the Onion's sports headlines.



That is all. Have a pleasant weekend.

Seriously. . .

To all my peeps out there:

NO matter which way you lean, or which one you think is right, just vote tomorrow. Vote with your head and your heart. But, just vote.

*If possible, if you live in PA, could you vote against Rick Santorum. I hate that guy*

Co-Worker-isms

There is a feature on Slate where they compile the crazy things President Bush says, and call them Bushisms.

So, my co-workers say some dumb shit sometimes, so I've compiled a few gems, and thought I'd share with you.

"Something's happening somewhere out there."
--co-workers proclamation about the day, after looking out the window

"Maybe we could unplug it for an hour and then turn it back on."
--a suggestion on how to fix a time difference on a credit card machine

"Are they going to give us money so we can throw our own party?"
--upon hearing that the holiday party was cancelled due to budget concerns

"The memo says the whole system is down, is your computer working?"
--I can't even explain this one

"I can't remember, I wrote it down, but I don't know what I did with the reminder."
--again, no explanation


These are just a few of the idiotic things I listen to everyday, feel free to share yours.

You know, that movie with that guy. . .

We all have that friend who is the go-to person when you need to know useless stuff. Like , who played Fish on Barney Miller, or what Bond Movie George Lazenby was in. (Abe Vigoda and On Her Majesty's Secret Service, by the way). As you can probably imagine from that first part, I am that person for everyone I know.

Now, I know I have no one to blame but myself. I do know a lot of crap. I watch a lot of television and movies and listen to tons of music. But, it really does go beyond that. I also seem to have the power to retain more of this pop culture detritus than most. I have memorized the entire movie Clue, just by watching it a billion times. And, I mean all of it, stage directions, music, gestures, and the dialogue. I clearly have a problem. But, I can't help it. It's what I like, and I do have a lot of fun with it. But, as with everything else, there is a flip side.

It gets old having to constantly finish other people's thoughts and fill in the blanks of who and what and when. It stops a conversation dead in it's tracks and then I have to scan my brain for the correct item, before we can move on. I don't think people know how maddening it is to not be able to think of something, and be forced to focus on it until you do. Many a night has been spent pondering a useless trivia item, only to have it bubble up in my brain the next day. And, when you exclaim, "Tom Selleck" at work, for no reason, they tend to think your crazy. It used to be much easier to recall all these things, but as I have become older, the river flows a little slower, if you know what I mean.

But, I suppose if this is my cross to bear, it's isn't a bad one. I always feel needed, and it is fun to quote movies and such. But, I ask that every now and again, you give me a break. I can't be the only one who knows this stuff. When all else fails, look on wikipedia if you need to know right now, I'm a little busy.

Me Too

Does this baby go with my bag?

Well, it's official. Having a baby has now become the perfect accessory for every rich-yet-empty-inside celebrity. You know it's reached a critical mass when Madonna is on board. Although, I have to say the Material Girl is a little late to the party on this one. Sharon Stone, Meg Ryan, Calista Flockhart (for god's sakes), all beat her to the punch. And, of course, there is the O.G. of third world adoption, Angelina Jolie.

When she's not busy telling the "West" how terrible they are, she's busy making films where she and Brad Pitt beat each other senseless and then have sex. It's hard to remember the fact that this is the same person who was draped all over Billy Bob Thornton like a cheap suit and wore his blood around her neck. Then, she goes to Cambodia and is reborn the official Hollywood money-guilt poster child.

I'm not saying that adoption, of any kind, is bad. But, there are thousands of childless people in this country who would kill for the opportunity these celebrities have to "ease" the process of adoption. And, be able to get a baby as easy as they get the new Prada bag. The average couple in this country takes years to get a baby through adoption. Years. They have to be scrutinized, monitored, checked up on and put through the ringer. And, of course, in most cases, they have to pay. A lot. And, let's not even mention what happens to those who are not well off, connected, or heterosexual and happily married.

I love that Brad and Angelina take a stand on marriage. "We will not marry until everyone legally can." But, they seem to have no problem using their wealth and prestige to secure entire nations to give birth in, or to pick up yet another multi-cultural accessory for their next magazine spread. Where is there outrage at the adoption bureaucracy and the difficulty helping these children find better lives?

I am thankful that there are wealthy people who see people suffering and want to help. But, it is preposterous to sit up on high now that you are "enlightened" and judge the rest of us. Some of us could never imagine doing what you do, because the plain truth is, we don't have the money to "buy" our next baby. Some of us have to struggle just to get by at all. So, don't presume to tell us anything. They clearly live in a fantasy world, and for people like Angelina, have done so her whole life. Money and power should be used for good, but don't expect a cookie because you suddenly decided to be "selfless." And, Madonna, sweetie, I think the last thing these people need is Kabbalah. They need food.

So, search on for meaning in your lives through cult-like religions, ethnically diverse broods, and more crappy films/albums/books/et. al. Just keep your self righteousness to yourself. Or, be like Clooney and save it for your next acceptance speech.

Just Stop It!

I put up with a lot of stupid crap all day long. I am forced to suffer it all with a smile, while the "people" that I deal with act as if they are normal. Well, I am here to debunk some myths about what you should and shouldn't do at a bank. For some reason people have it in their heads that the below listed items are okay, and they are not. Take it from me. And, STOP IT!! (in no particular order)

*You are not special, and neither is your money. Unless you are the Monopoly guy walking in with your bags o' cash and the dog and tiny shoe, it is mere drop in the bucket. So, stop expecting to be treated like Donald Trump.

*If you hand me something that says Checking Deposit, trust that I understand that it means you want your money deposited into your checking account. I'm not an idiot. I can read. I might even get it right without your help.

*Don't walk up to the window, without first going through the freakin' ropes. I know it's stupid and no, it's not a ride. But they are there because the one teller you see and want to walk up to, doesn't want to have to wait on everyone. It's called a line, wait in it.

*Which brings me to a big one. Don't just start walking up to the window, without being beckoned. I see you, I'll get to you, don't presume that I am ready for you. Just wait until someone says "May I help you." I know it sounds petty, but how do you feel when people walk up to you at work, unannounced, and just stand in front of you, when you are clearly busy?

*Just give me the damn driver's license already!! I don't care if God himself knew you when he was a teller at this bank, I need to see it. God isn't here to vouch for you anymore. He left after the last take-over

*If you have two arms and most of your digits, fill out your own slips. I'm not a personal transcriptionist. And, you don't need to memorize your account number to have it on a bloody piece of paper. I certainly don't know it better than you do.

*Don't expect me to laugh at your "jokes" that I've heard 100,000 times. When I ask you how you want your money, answering green or spendable is not funny. Never was, never will be. And, I don't want to talk about the weather, so don't even go there.

*When coming to the drive thru, be ready. I'm not there to wait for you to fill out slips, get out your money and i.d., and all that. You have the power to stop and do all that before you pull up. And, when the sign says three items, it means it. Plus, the drive-thru is not the place to take out a second mortgage on your house. Come in the damn bank already.

So, there is just a smattering of things you shouldn't do at a bank. I could go on all day, and frequently do. But, I think this is a good start.

Death of a Salesman

I was never a big Tower Records shopper, as there were none in my area. But, I was still kind of shocked to hear that they were going out of business. Sure, the tiny independent record stores are dropping like flies. But, Tower Records always seemed like they would stick around.

But, it has started yet another round of "the decline of the music industry as we know it." No one is buying records at the big chain store, so they have to close up shop and go home. Let's all cry a little tear for them, shall we?

I am an admitted music stealer, iPod user and an unapologetic rejector of the notion of buying a crap album at $17.99 per unit. If I like one song, I buy one song. I don't need to buy the record so I can hear the entire "concept" of your album. It was streaming on myspace, AOL, or some other venue and I heard every crappy word. And, if it wasn't, I can listen to it at my nearest Borders. So, to Metallica, Kid Rock and everyone else who thinks their music must be enjoyed 12-15 songs at a time, I say this. You. Are. Wrong. Sorry, but that is a fact, and it is not going to change.

Back in the day, when cassettes ruled, we all had mix tapes. We made them for friends, we shared them and yes, we stole songs from the radio. So, the technology has improved and digital music rules the day. I trust all those mix tape people have sent the artists their money for stealing back then. Of course not. But, now the music biz has to fight for every cent. Could it be that albums sales are down not only because people are buying on iTunes, but because it's just not worth it? Mainstream music just sucks. Sorry.

I know, I know, stealing is wrong. But, so much of the music that is out there today is wrong too. Extremely wrong. And, can someone tell me why I can buy DVD's at the supermarket for $4, but I am still paying $15-$17 for an album that came out in the early 90's? It just doesn't make sense (didn't feel the need for the pun there). Music shouldn't cost so much. Bottom line. It just shouldn't. And, until someone can justify it to me, I'm not going to pay it. I buy mainstream CD's by trading in old CD's. It the ultimate recycling. And, if there is a small band I like, I buy the record, for several reasons. One, because they need my money more than Janet Jackson does. And, because I can feel superior for liking better music and because I am a snob. The day I plunk down any money for Nickleback is the day you are prying my Fugazi records out of my cold, dead hands.

So, I don't really mourn the passing of yet another big time record store. I just wish that there was a decent mom-and-pop shop within 50 miles of where I live. Because I would rather support them than a Tower any day. That being said, I'm not above pilliaging a good going-out-of-business sale. Finally, CD's at normal prices. Isn't it ironic? Don't you think?

We Take All Kinds of Pills . . .

So, thanks to an un-checked box on the Ticketmaster website, I am now a proud owner of a free year-long subscription to Rolling Stone magazine. The last time I subscribed, it was around 1992-1994. Back when I actually cared about the people they would put on the cover. Now, well, the last three Rolling Stone covers that I have seen were Jack Nicholson, a wet Justin Timberlake and, the one I have been lucky enough to get, Fergie. You know how I just love her.

It is funny to me how irrelevant Rolling Stone seems now. Sure, they still have some decent articles, mostly current event type stuff. But, the record reviews and the bands they feature, well, they pretty much suck. They gave the new Evanescence (sp? I don't care to look it up) record 3 and 1/2 stars. They gave Paris Hilton 3 stars. And, I can't wait to hear all about Fergie and her meth addiction. Who cares if the talentless have problems? I'm sure they do. But, let's not encourage them to share. Is there really anyone out there who wants to know? The only question I want the answer to is how many people did she bone to get so famous?

But, you can't blame Rolling Stone completely. To be fair, the record industry has offered up little in the way of (what I would consider) decent music. When a product is shit, but by comparison is less shitty than some others, I guess a good review is relative. You can't talk about great mainstream bands putting out great records when, by and large, they aren't. And, if they are, you can read about them in other places besides RS. Magazines that I would actually listen to when they recommend something.

When you consider how much the music industry has changed, it seems odd to me that RS would remain so much the same. Bands have come and gone, movements in music have shifted and been resurrected, and icons have died and found new life in a new generation. And, yet, RS are still churning out issues that bear a startling resemblance to the ones I read over 10 years ago. Not much seems to have changed. Except my interest in what they tell me is cool.

You know, the recording industry is wondering why no one is buying. Look no further than the crap that is "popular" enough to be mainstream worthy (according to RS). It's amazing to me that anyone is buying this shit at all. But, that's another post for another day.

How Pimped is too Pimped?

I was home sick from work the last two days, and I got the chance to catch some great daytime television I usually miss. I hadn't seen "Pimp my Ride" on MTV in a while. I used to love that show, where they'd take your hooptie, and make it well, a really updated hooptie. But, I'm starting to think they've gone too far.

The boy on the show had a crap-ass Suburban, and so they "pimped" it, and now instead of a back seat, he has a 6000 watt stereo and speaker system. They also put 7'' monitors on his mudflaps. MUDFLAPS? Who the fuck is going to lay on the ground behind your car and watch a dvd? He loved to snowboard, so they gave him a roof rack for the snowboards (since there was no more trunk space) and don't worry, they gave him a snowboard, with a 7'' monitor on it. So when this kid is cruising down the mountain watching a dvd on his snowboard, he can break his neck in style. By the most arbitrary and stupid thing was making his car, make snow. Sort of. It was more of a light drizzle of frozen flakes.

What's next? "We know how much you love eggs, so we put an omelet station is the back!" "Dude, we put 7'' monitors under the hood, so the engine can watch the dvd with you!!" I'm all for useless gadgets courtesy of MTV, but this is beyond useless. At least give me something I can use, like a Dr. Pepper fountain or an iPod that is voice activated and I can tell it what song to play. Hmmm, maybe I should call MTV. Lord knows the Focus could use some work . . .

Big Questions (an on-going series)

*How come when people have a near-death, or out of body experiences, they always see a bright, white light and float up? So, none of these people are sinners and going to hell?

The Cake has been Taken

THIS STORY IS 100% TRUE . Some of the details have been changed, mainly to protect me, but the rest is all fact. Please Enjoy!!

I work at a widget factory*. Sometimes people call us because they feel they don't have as many widgets as they should. In fact, sometimes they are dealing with negative amounts of widgets. So, I got one of those calls today. This man had authorized someone, let's say Ryder Trucks**, to take a certain number of widgets from him, but they took some away twice. This made his widget count negative. He called, very irate about this and asked me to explain how he was so low on widgets. I told him that Ryder had taken widgets away from him twice and he became very angry.

So, I tried to calm him down but he continued. He said he needed those widgets back from Ryder and not only that, but wanted extra widgets to make up for the deficit caused by other widget transactions. I told him that he needed to speak with Ryder to get the widgets back, but he became more angry, saying that they were not reachable. He told me that he was sorry for taking out his frustrations on me, then proceeded to launch into a profanity laced rant about how I needed to tell everyone at my widget factory that we basically fucking sucked. Then he hung up on me.

I was pissed. I even went so far as to cry a little, as I do when I am boiling mad, with no outlet. I went to lunch to cool off. This bastard called while I was at lunch and had the nerve to ask to talk to me, once again, about his widget deficit. Instead, my boss tried to speak to him, and admonish him for being so dreadful to me. He took this as another chance to scream, and laid into my boss and said "Fuck you" and hung up again.

We at the widget factory also have a 1-800 helpline to handle calls. This man proceeded to call them, and (no joke now) threatened to KILL someone there because they would not help him without proper verification of his widget account. Then, it really got interesting. The call center called our security department, who called the police. Then, security wanted to get my account of the widget debacle, and asked if I wanted them to take away his widgets all together. I said yes, because this guy was clearly insane.

Well, I thought that was the end of it, until this jackass WALKED INTO my widget factory. He says "Hi, I'm Douche-Bag***, and I'm so sorry." I say, "That's fine, but you need to step away from my widget making machine now. If you want to talk to my manager, that's fine, but you need to step away from me now." He sat, and I got the manager. He told my manager that he was unprofessional because of his shoe choice, raised his stupid voice a little and then left, before the police could come and get him for making "terrorist threats." Oh well, we gave them the license number and let them do their thing.

In the end, I was dumbfounded. This guy informed my boss that Ryder was giving back the widgets. That is what I told him from the beginning! I am glad, in a way, that he ultimately got his, but am mostly amazed that it all went this far.

So, to all you non-customer service types who ever get mad at the widget maker, waitress, or Indian guy who has the misfortune of getting your call about your laptop, be kind. At the very least, don't threaten to kill them. These are people. Human beings just like you, you big-dumb-douchey-asses. Just because something is wrong in your world, doesn't mean they did it to you. Most likely it is because of a person so far removed from the situation that they will never find out about your lowly problem. So, just know that. And, remember, we can sick the cops on you, dicks.

* Not real employer.
** Not real company involved.
***Not real name, but really is one.

I Heart Jon Stewart

So, just a little post to say that the Jon Stewart show on Saturday night was kick ass. Even thought Merriweather Post Pavillion has the stupidest parking and such, it was an amazing 90 minutes of awesome.

He is so fucking funny, I just want to, well, honestly, I just want to have sex with him. As I said before, he makes the old (yes, old, 30 to be exact) toes curl. Anywho, great way to spend a saturday night. Plus, he taught us all a new way to look at the President's speech patterns. Hilarious.

Good show, Jon Stewart, you sexy bitch. Thanks for making a newly old lady laugh.

30 Years, on my way to. . .

Well, my 30th birthday has come and gone. No major breakdowns, no crying jaggs and no new wrinkles to report. I actually had a pretty kick ass day. And, it looks to be a pretty kick ass weekend too.

I'm off from work until tuesday. Thursday, I got my nails and hair done. Friday, I got to hang out with my man all day, got some great news from Danielle, saw some old friends and found out they are moving back to town next year. Had some of the most delicious food ever. Even got a free dessert from Borders.

Today, it is the arrival of my sister and her husband, bearing surprises and gifts. Then we are headed to Maryland to see #5 on the Top 5 List, Jon Stewart. I am so excited.

So, turning 30 really hasn't been so bad. I don't feel any older. I don't feel like my life is over, and I got to freak out some sqaures last night, so it is all good. Maybe it's just all how you look at it.

Gotta go, my new dining room table is being delivered.

30 Years, and my life is still. . .

Well, this is it folks, in a few short hours, I will be thirty. I've told myself over and over that it doesn't matter, but for some reason this one is a little sticky for me. I'm obviously not above feeling like this life is going by me awfully fast.

There is a quote from the movie "Singles" that I think sums it up for me. Janet (Bridget Fonda) is talking into the camera at her coffee house job. She tell us that she is 24. "Time is running out to do something truly bizarre. Somewhere around 25, bizarre becomes immature."

That is it for me. I don't want to be mature. I don't want to have to stop being bizarre, or weird or "different" or whatever you want to call it. I'd like to say that it is some big dilemma about my mortality or that I feel I haven't accomplished what I set out to do. And, while all that is true, it really does seem to come down to the fact that I don't want to grow up. And, well, 30 is just another step closer to "adulthood."

Now, everyone tries to give you the speeches about how the 30's are better than the 20's and that it's all so great and freeing. Well, we'll see. I feel like maybe I should undertake some major life upheaval or change. I feel like I should reevaluate and assess my life, and see where I could improve things. But, really, at the end of the day, I just want to get rid of my crappy job, find what I really love and be happy. Is that too much to ask for an old lady like me?

"Damn Kids. . . . . . "

Just trying it out. And, you know what. . . I like it.

Back to the Future

I'll be 30 soon(15 days!!!) That unenviable fact is staring me in the face, like the barrel of a gun. But, the funny thing is, it seems like more than ever, everything is reminding me of the past. I have been given the chance to go back to college, my old college, for free. My old college radio station is willing to put me back on the air. It seems that all my favorite bands from the past are putting out new records, touring or both. And, friends from the days of yore are cropping up like crazy on myspace. With all that is laying ahead of me (old age, boredom, mom jeans) it is funny how comforting I am finding these reminders of my "youth."

So, maybe it's time for me to go back to college, before I'm too old to read without giant glasses. Maybe learning at 30 will be better than learning at 18, when I didn't give a crap about anything. Who knows, maybe it would even be fun. If Old School taught us anything, it's that reliving your college years can be beneficial to your adult life.

I know all my 30-something friends will tell me I'm not old. However, the 20-somethings in my life would probably beg to differ. I hate to sound cliche and silly, but college really was good for me. I had my fair share of problems, but mostly I look back on it as some of the greatest times I've ever had. But, if I'm going to be honest with myself, despite the myriad landmines life has buried for me to step on, I am lucky and blessed to have done so much cool shit and lived as well as I have.

All this reflection and soul searching has led me to one place. A fresh start. Whatever comes with the new/old things in my life, I am changing directions, yet again. I may never really figure it all out, but I am tired of worrying about getting it right. For now, I'm just going to enjoy the ride.

The Music of the Devil

If this is the state of music today, count me out.

*"How come every time you come around/my London, London Bridge wanna go down/the drinks start pouring/and my speech is slurring/everybody start looking real good/(oh shit)"--Fergie

*"Do what you wanna do/tonight the world does not exist/no, no, no/move how you wanna move/all my girls work it out like this" --Jessica Simpson

*"I can make it nice and naughty/be the devil and angel too/got a heart and soul and body/let's see what this love can do"--Paris Hilton

What happened to music? God, I hate these fuckers for making me sound old!

Back in my day. . .

In Praise of a Good Fuck

There are a lot of people who don't like swearing. They think it is vulgar and cheapens our culture, making our whole society more coarse and undignified. Whatever the fuck that means. I don't agree. I like swearing. A lot. I'm not alone. There are those that celebrate it. Howard Stern lamented not being able to say what he wanted on his radio show. Athletes get fined for letting the occasional expletive slip through onto live television, but they don't stop. And, I know I wait with anticipation for when James Lipton asks that all important question of celebrities; "What is your favorite curse word?" (in case you are wondering, Jimmy, it's fuck)

One of my favorite places for swearing (and in my opinion, one of the most appropriate) is in music. It is totally voluntary to hear, and in a lot of cases, really helps convey emotion. When I was younger, if I saw that Parental Advisory sticker on an album, all the better. So, I thought I would celebrate some of the great uses of the word Fuck in music.

It is used a lot, that dirty F word. Everybody does it, trying to sound edgy. Hell, there is even a band called Fuck. But lyrically, it has an almost universal appeal. Sometimes it really works. (we'll get to those) But, sometimes, it is just plain wrong.

Case in point: Alanis Morrisette's You Oughta Know. We all know it. "Are you thinking of me when you fuck her?" But, the way she says it, it is just so irritating. It's whiny and gutless. My other least favorite fuck would have to go to Pearl Jam, in Jeremy. "Seemed a harmless little fuck." First of all, it doesn't fit, it doesn't rhyme and I hate the way he sings it, kind of low and quiet, like he doesn't want to say it. I just think it was a needless addition to an otherwise great song.

But, sometimes, it is just great. There are so many great songs that use the word fuck. But, I have chosen a couple that I think just really take it to the next level. And, these are really in no particular order.

1. Untouchable Face - Ani Difranco. Okay Alanis, you wanna know how to do "angry girl"? Take a listen to this one. Her delivery on this one is killer. It comes from power, not bitterness.

2. Killing in the Name of - Rage Against the Machine. Come on. This is a classic. The song just devolves into the "Fuck you, I won't do what you tell me" line over and over. Who hasn't felt that way?

3. Fucking Hostile - Pantera. I don't think I really need to explain this one. While I often find Pantera lyrically silly, this one is great.

4. Closer - Nine Inch Nails. "I want to fuck you like an animal." Who didn't blush a little when you heard that for the first time. (Well, I did, anyway.) One of my particular favorites. All I have to say is, just tell me where and when, and I am there.

5. Fuck and Run - Liz Phair. Liz used to say fuck a lot. She doesn't say it as much as she should in this song, but it is still a great and powerful delivery of the word.

So, there they are. Some of the best fucks in music, in my opinion. But, I think there are some people in music who should embrace the word. Who would I love to hear a fuck from? Well, let's see: Lisa Loeb and Kelly Clarkson, to start with. Don't be afraid of the awesome power of the word fuck. Let it be your friend. By the way, FUCK!!!

Some Time Apart

As I am writing this, my husband and his band of merry men are conducting their fantasy football draft/poker night party. Right now, there are 13 stinky boys in my basement, eating wings and playing cards. I am the most understanding wife in the world. Well, at least according to my husband's friends. (Did I mention there is also an 8 foot G.I. Joe aircraft carrier down there too?)

I know the common phrase for women who are "abandoned" by their husband's during football season is "Football Widow." I prefer not to think of it as a death, as that seems awfully extreme. So, I choose to think of football season as just a little time apart. So, I guess you could say I am having a football "trial separation."

We still see each other, but the rules are much more rigid. We have to create a visitation schedule for the television. No more casual plans on Sundays together. The Redskins become his new "girlfriend" for the time being. They get more of his attention, because they are the "new thing." They'll tease him, and make him think he's special, but I know the truth. And, that truth is that they don't love him like I do. They are just a distraction from his real life. A way to escape the mundane, the everyday. But, I know that my husband is never really going to leave me for them. See, they always end up letting him down in the end. So, when he comes back to me, I am waiting there for him. And, when this whole "trial separation" is over, we can laugh about it. Until next August, when the party comes back through town. I shudder to think. . .

Look to the Cookie

No, this is not some lame-ass Seinfeld reference. It is in regards to the current world situation. As some of you may have noticed, I stole the Terror Alert Level/Sesame Street thing for my blog, and today it went all bonkers after the (hopefully) thwarted terror attempts in England. But, I dream of a day when we as a soceity will be at the Blue/Guarded, or, in this case, Cookie Monster threat level.

I don't believe we will ever be at Low/Green threat level/Oscar. But, I think, if we could just get to Cookie Monster, the world would be a better place. Then maybe, things would calm down a little and we could all be a little less afraid.

So people, join with me now. Let's do our part to keep hope alive. Shove cookies in your face at an alarming rate, and don't forget to sing a little song about it. Otherwise, the terrorists win.

I'm 'apposed to get pudding!

I've heard rumors of The State coming out on DVD, but until then, here are clips of my favorite skits. Awwww YEAH!!!

Louie -- $240 -- LuvSeat

Feel the love.

I Can Only Imagine

*This guy is living my dream. How do I get his job?

Oh my God, Did you see that?

So, I've mentioned it before, but, I've been to a lot of concerts lately. Which by default means, I see a lot of weird and funny shit. Not to sound like some old person, but, things have sure changed since I used to go to so many shows. But, on the plus side, there are a whole new class of interesting people to make fun of. The old favorites are still there, but they have been joined by a new generation of crazy. Half the reason I'm going to these concerts is the people watching. So, here is a short list of the greatest people you are going to see at a show.


*Overly Slutty Girl, with Parent--Now, the overly slutty girl at a concert is nothing new. But, what is new is the presence of a parent with her. Not dropping her off. There is no hiding the garb under baggy shirts and jackets and as soon as the parents drive off, she reveals her slutty wears. I mean, they are with her at the show, and have clearly approved the wardrobe before they left home. This is one that would have never happened to me, as my mom would have never let me don stilletos and a mini to go to concert, let alone stay for the show and rock with me. To that end. . .

*Moms and Dads in the crowd-- Again, this didn't really happen much in my day. Parents dropped you off, implored you to be good, and left, presumably to kill time until they had to begrudgingly pick you up. There was no staying. NONE! Now, they are everywhere. You can't swing a cat at shows without seeing them. And, more scary, are the one's that seem to be there alone. Rocking the concert tee and mom jeans, they are more and more common at shows these days.

*White guy with afro-- Again, these boys existed back in the day (Wednesday). But, they were at home doing math homework, busy trying to think of a way to tell Angela Chase they liked her. (if you don't get it, I can't help you) They were not rockin' the pit with the Goth kids.

*Costume/Prop Guy or Girl-- These committed folks love the band so much, they are willing to dress up in full regalia to show their devotion. This can include, depending on the situation: top hats, canes, corsets, veils, suits, suspenders, flower bouquets, teddy bears, full face make-up or any combination of these.

These people keep me busy before and after shows, as well as during shitty opening bands. So, thanks kids. I appreciate you. Keep on keepin' on.


June 5, 2005 thru July 25, 2006:

Concerts seen: 15
Total Bands/Acts seen: 27
Different Venues Visited: 12
Total distance traveled: Approx. 2200 miles
Average Ticket Price: $28
Partners in Crime: 3
Worth it?: Fucking right

This is War, Peacock!

When describing situations in life that are tough, most people go one of two ways. The analogy is either war or sports. I've decided to go with war. So, if you will permit me the hyperbole, I am going to put my current work situations into a new perspective. Join me at DEFCON 1, here we go.

I am currently engaged in two separate battles, in one big war for domination of my workplace environment. I am up against an enemy that threatens my very way of life with its actions. They don't seem to care who they hurt, just as long as they make their point. But, I refuse to let these coworkers make me afraid, or tell me how to live. Freedom will prevail.

The first battle was started some time ago. It started innocently enough, but in recent weeks has been escalated through a series of attacks and counter-attacks. The source of this battle? The radio. We have a choice of three horrible soft rock stations to listen to at work. I pick the least offensive one that still offers a few decent songs. The others, my foes in these battles for Sovereignty, choose the most offensive one of the bunch. We're talking about Tony Orlando and Dawn here, people. Every time I am out of the office, they change the station. Every time I come back, I change it back. This has been going on at a relentless pace for months now. I refuse to back down, and it appears they will continue with the sneak attacks, undaunted by my brazen daylight counter-offensives.

The other battle is new, and in my opinion, even more insidious. This battle threatens my very soul. The thermostat. Oh, yes. It appears that even though it is 90+ degrees outside, the skinny-minnie-jack-booted-thugs I am up against, still think the thermostat should say 79. I refuse to let that stand, and I turn it down to 74. Again, they employ sneak attacks to make their moves. I, again, opt for the straight forward, "shock and awe" approach of open air strikes. They also employ psychological warfare, by asking me if I am hot at a given moment. If I say no, they take that as an okay to change the temperature. They are sneaky, sneaky bastards.

So, I refuse to give up on either of these fronts. This war will be long, and there may not be any easy way out. But, I can't just cut and run, when things get a little tough. I have to stay and fight. My very survival just may depend on it. At the very least, my sanity and my comfort. Well, same thing, really.

F*&^% those Fireworks!!!

Here it is the 4th of July, when the majority of America is in celebratory mode. And, I find myself in the silent minority. The minority of people who have a deep and powerful hatred of fireworks.

I know this sounds like an odd thing to hate, but hear me out. I used to like fireworks, a bit. They were a special occasion kind of thing. You'd be dragged once a year to a field, or a parking lot, to view a big-ass show. You'd watch, you'd go home and that would be that. But, somewhere along the line, fireworks became this all-the-fucking-time kind of thing. Anything at all warranted fireworks. Other holidays started getting in on the act. Then it was parties. Then weddings. Home runs. Any excuse at all have fireworks.

But, I think it really all came to a head for me the summer I worked for a minor league baseball team. They had fireworks every Thursday and Saturday night. All summer long. So, not only did that mean we had to stay later those nights at work, but we had to watch the fireworks. Doesn't sound so bad? Have you ever stopped to consider what fireworks leave behind after they go off? Of course not. Why would you? But, the day you are asked to pick up tiny pieces of burnt debris from baseball field after a fireworks display, the joy is all but gone.

So, as I sit here, listening to my redneck neighbors set off their bottle rockets, I am reminded yet again of the fact that fireworks are truly the most annoying phenomenon on earth. Color me a non-patriot if you must, Toby Keith. I can take it. But, I still have to say, I FUCKING HATE FIREWORKS!!

Couldn't Agree More

I thought this Postsecret said it all. . .

Top 25 Albums, Part 5

5) Beastie Boys - Paul's Boutique
No matter how many records they put out, this one is still my favorite. I just think it is the most fun and the most interesting. "Sounds of Science" and "Shake Your Rump" still make me want to dance.

4) Dinosaur Jr - You're Living All Over Me
Seeing them in concert (finally) this year reminded me how much this album burned up my car stereo. As far as I'm concerned, this record is a must have.

3) Oasis - (What's the Story) Morning Glory
A record that made me appreciate how great a pop song can be. There was a time when I listened to this record non-stop for about 8 hours. And, it only made me love it more. Another great live band, too.

2) Cure - Disintegration
The Cure don't need to be justified.

AND THE ONE YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR > > > > >

1) The Smiths - The Queen is Dead
I know, I know, you're all sitting there saying "Meat is Murder" is better. But, fuck you, you are wrong. This album is by far and away better, and no one will ever convince me otherwise. A truly life-changing and influential record. It kind of changed the whole course of where my tastes were musically. Who hasn't wanted to hear someone say "To die by your side, well, the pleasure and the privilege is mine." Lyrically and sonically perfect.


So there it is, my list. Like it? Hate it? So be it. It was fun, though.

Top 25 Albums, Part 4

10) Sleater-Kinney - Dig Me Out
Sleater-Kinney first caught my attention with this record. It was hard to pick a favorite with these ladies, but I think this one still wins. They just announced their "indefinite hiatus." And, by some stroke of amazing luck, I'm catching one of their last shows in Philly on July 31st.

9) Pixies - Doolittle
I don't know what to say about this record that hasn't already been said. I just love it. It may be a little cliche, but I don't care.

8) Fugazi - 13 Songs
Amazing, amazing, amazing. "Waiting Room" is one of my all-time favorite songs. Can't think of a bad tune on this one.

7) Nine Inch Nails - Pretty Hate Machine
If there is one cure for wanting to put my fist through a plate glass window, it is cranking this CD up to 11 and screaming along. Also, it reminds me of some great times, oddly enough. Plus, you know how I feel about Trent.

6) Jane's Addiction - Ritual de lo Habitual
A better record from the 90's you'd be hard pressed to find. Another classic from my youth that I never get tired of. Still have the worn out cassette.

Jesus, Top 5 Again?!

*Dane, if you are going to persist in sleeping with Jessica Simpson, you're out! Welcome back Ewan McGregor to Number 4, I've missed you.

Top 25 Albums, Part 3

15) Bettie Serveert - Palomine
Top to bottom, their best record. Some damn catchy songs on this one. While I am a fan of their other albums as well, this is one that I can put on repeat and listen to all day. For the uninitiated, I would start here.

14) Hey Mercedes - Loses Control
I fucking love this band, and this record. They broke up in '04, but I still play this thing like it is going out of style. Almost all the tracks are some of the most-played songs on my iPod. I just never seem to get tired of it. As a matter of fact, I did my first post on this blog about this record.

13) Versus - The Stars are Insane
I am such a big fan of this band, this record and even all their side projects. Of which there are many. So much of this album reminds me of tremendously good times. It is fall back record for any occasion. I feel it is their best.

12) Green Day - Dookie
As a product of the 90's, this record made a huge splash. Fast, fun and catchy, it was the non-stop companion to my late high school years. Perfect for driving around to.

11) That Dog - Retreat from The Sun
These bitches can harmonize like nobody's business. They kick it with the violin and keyboards and still rock really hard. This one is also attached to a lot of good times. Great album to sing with, as long as you have some friends with you to sing back up.

Top 25 Albums, Part 2

20) Dead Milkmen - Beelzebubba
These guys crack me up. They are silly, geeky and write the funniest songs. "Stuart" made such a big impression on me that it became my senior quote in my yearbook. Of course, this is also the record that contains "Punk Rock Girl" which brought them their MTV success. I still fancy this one the best, although you really can't go wrong with most of their catalogue.

19) Missy Higgins - The Sound of White
Going on a trip to Australia brought me many things, including some great Aussie music. Missy Higgins is a cute-as-a-button singer/songwriter that sings about love, loss and finding your own way. Her songs got us over the Pacific Ocean and trailed us down the Great Ocean Road. It is all at once sad and beautiful. For someone so young, she packs such an emotional punch. If you've never heard her, do yourself a favor and check her out.

18) Liz Phair - Whipsmart
Everyone always says her best record is "Exile in Guyville", but I disagree. I think that Whipsmart is by far her best. Despite all the recent cries of sellout from the hipsters, I still think that Liz Phair is a rockin' indie chick.

17) Velocity Girl - Simpatico
Sweet and infectious pop songs. That is what Velocity Girl does.

16) Descendents - All
When I first heard "Coolidge", I fell in love with the Descendents. West coast punk at it's finest.

Top 25 Albums, Part 1

Well, here it is. My Top 25 albums. These albums all mean a great deal to me. They either mark a significant time in my life, a real turning point for me musically or they just plain kick ass. Sorry, there is really no profound new ground here. No Miles Davis, Beatles or anything like that. Just the stuff that keeps me going to this day; the stuff that never gets old and probably never will. The stuff that, for the most part, takes me back to a great place in my life. And, to a large extent, became the soundtrack to my life.

25) Madonna - Like a Virgin
This was the first LP I owned that didn't have a picture of Barbie on it. It was also from a time when I loved, nay, worshiped Madonna. I had my walls plastered with her pictures, the jelly bracelets, everything. I memorized every dance and every move. She was sexy, intimidating and awesome. I wanted to be her so bad, but knew I never could. The songs, in my opinion, are still her best.

24) Cyndi Lauper - She's So Unusual
If Madonna was the sexy woman I could never be, Cyndi was the crazy chick I could be if my parents would just let me dye my hair orange. She was manic and fun and an amazing song writer. "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" is still one of my favorite songs. It was a battle cry, before I was even old enough to know what kind of "fun" I wanted to have. Classic.

23) The The - Mind Bomb
Edgy, moody, British. All the things that us young and clueless hipsters wanted so desperately to be. This album was full of dark images, religion, sex and Matt Johnson's amazing and haunting voice. It didn't hurt that my brother's college roommate was a fan, and I had a huge crush on him. It was just perfect for the budding rebel in me.

22) They Might Be Giants - Flood
One of my all time favorite albums to sing along to. It was full of the most ridiculous and fun songs. Whether or not they make any sense, I can't tell you. But, who needs to understand "Triangle Man" or "Birdhouse in Your Soul"? You just love them. And, I did. Still one album that can always lift my mood.

21) Ween - The Pod
The first Ween LP I owned. Amazing, crazy and full of so much energy. These guys were as weird as anything I had ever heard, and I fell in love with their outrageous style. They were quasi-local and it made them seem more accessible and down to earth. The legend is the boys had mono when they recorded this record, and that supposedly led to the craziness. Who knows? While subsequent releases may be "better" this one will always be my favorite.

So, there are the first 5, more to come. . .

A Challenge

I was catching up with an old friend tonight, and we got to talking about picking our favorite albums, and how impossible it always seems. I have always put people off when they ask me this kind of stuff with my ever popular "I just like too much shit to pick." Well, he has thrown down the gauntlet, and I am to come up with my Top 25 albums, so we'll see how it goes. I need some time to prepare, but it should be coming soon. I don't like to think too much on these things. I just let it kind of happen, as I feel it. If I'm honest with myself, I know the albums that I like the best. They may not be on the Rolling Stone or Spin "Top any-fucking-thing-we-can-think-of list", but they are mine.

So, okay Croom. You want answers? Let's see if you can handle the truth. I shall be expecting your list as well. (Although, I'll let you slide on time due to the baby and all)


*Apparently, people seem to think I go to a lot of concerts. So, why not a couple more? She Wants Revenge on July 13 and the Waifs on August 3.

*13 shows in one year's time too much? NEVER!!

Great Expectations

As you all know, I've been going to a lot of concerts lately. Every time I'm getting ready to go, I am giddy with anticipation. I can't wait to see the band, hear what their going to play, creating my dream set list in my head. I admit, when paying money to see a band, I have certain expectations.

I want to see passion, I want to see excitement, and yes, I want to hear the hits. I don't think this is too out of the ordinary. No one wants to see the Stones and not hear "Satisfaction." I am not, however, one of those people who feels the need to call out song names. That has always irritated me. Because, if it's the name of a popular song, you have to think that it occurred to the band to play it, before you mentioned it. And, if it's obscure, the person is so obviously doing it to try and sound hip and cool.

When we saw Dinosaur Jr, they had reformed the original line up, so they were not going play anything but the first three albums, which featured the original members. That was fine with me, but I'm sure there were some in the crowd upset by not hearing "Feel the Pain." The first two times I saw Morrissey, I remember talking with friends about how great it would have been to hear some old Smiths tunes. But, he didn't play them. Now he does. Most bands, if they've been around for a while, could play for hours and still not get to everything, so sometimes you just have to let some of the big songs go. It may suck, but it's a fact of life. Nine Inch Nails didn't play "Hurt", but I am willing to overlook it, since they kicked ass.

And, don't make me beg you for an encore. I am more than fine with you just playing for about 2 hours and then saying goodnight. Don't leave the stage and make me clap for 10 minutes to bring you back, when you were going to anyway. I understand that encores have become the norm, but I could do without them. Just play the show and let me go, especially if I've had to stand all night. I'm old you know, I can't do it anymore.

And, please for the love of God, don't be one those artists who disowns their old work, and wants to "live in the present." (Yes, Madonna and Billy Corgan, I'm talking to you) Those songs made you, and if you never recorded and sang them, you wouldn't be where you are today. So, listen guys, if you have that monster hit, you're going to be playing it forever. Deal with it. I'm sure the money and the stuff and the thousands of adoring fans can lessen the pain. Remember why you loved it so much in the first place, and let's hear it. . . Once more, with feeling. . .

Top 5 Revisited

After seeing Nine Inch Nails in Camden last night, several things became clear to me. First, they put on one of the most amazing shows I've ever seen. Intensity: they've got it. And, we had primo 7th row seats, thanks to Danielle's membership in "The Spiral." But, the second thing was that Trent Reznor was looking even more delicious than I remember. He was hot. Clearly, I have been remiss in not putting him on the Top 5. And after last night, when he told me, yet again, that he wants to fuck me like an animal, who am I to not oblige?

Also, there is another person that has been sneaking into my mind more and more and I feel is worthy of the Top 5 list. Dane Cook, congratulations, you silly bitch. You made it. So, whenever you want to do me, just let me know thru myspace.com


So, here it is, the new Top 5.

1) Henry Rollins
2) Dave Grohl
3) Trent Reznor
4) Dane Cook
5) Jon Stewart

So, sorry Messrs. Jackman and McGregor. Your sideburns and claws and cinematic full-frontal nudity (respectively) are no match for Trent's arms and that voice, and Dane silliness and his chest. But, don't lose hope. You never know what might happen. I'm apparently very fickle.

Death Be Not Proud

For some reason, everyone wants to talk about death lately. Recently, I was at work and my boss said something I found interesting. He said that when someone dies, it "makes us think about our own mortality." All I could think was that he had obviously never lost anyone close to him.

Sure, in the abstract, someone dying, be it a star or even someone you know a little bit, makes us think about our own death. But, when you lose someone important to you, it's not a reminder. It's not "a shame." It is a total and complete devastation. It doesn't make you think "Oh shit, I'm going to die some day." It stops everything. It means that the person you love and lived with is never walking through the door again. No more plans to be made, no more good times. It's all over. That is not abstract. It is pain, and it is real. I don't wish the pain of loss on anyone, but when I hear people make pithy comments about death, it makes me furious.

I am far beyond the point where death is an abstract concept in my life. I don't need a reminder of my own mortality. In fact, most people I know have felt far more devastation and pain than anyone deserves. Dying is unfathomable. I know people say silly things to comfort themselves and others. But, there is no comfort. Except maybe time, and for some, that is debatable. And, that is the sad lesson everyone will learn someday.

MGL - 10/45 - 4/06

Name That Stripper!!

I am Lola Velvet-Hooter. Indeed. What's your stipper name? Use these instructions to find out.

1. Use the third letter of your first name to determine your new firstname:
a = Fantasia
b = Chesty
c = Starr
d = Diamond
e = Montana
f = Angel
g = Sugar
h = Mimi
i = Lola
j =Kitty
k = Roxie
l = Dallas
m = Princess
n = Heidi
o = Bambi
p = Bunny
q = Brandy
r = Sugar
s = Candy
t = Raquelle
u = Sapphire
v = Cinnamon
w = Blaze
x = Trixie
y = Isis
z = Jade

2. Use the second letter of your last name to determine the first half of your new last name:
a = Leather
b = Dream
c = Sunny
d = Deep
e = Heaven
f = Tight
g = Shimmer
h = Velvet
i = Lusty
j = Harley
k = Passion
l = Dazzle
m = Dixon
n = Spank
o = Glitter
p = Razor
q = Meadow
r = Glitz
s = Sparkle
t = Sweet
u = Silver
v = Tickle
w = Cherry
x = Hard
y = Night
z = Amber

3. Use the third letter of your last name to determine the second half of your new last name:
a = hooter
b = horn
c = tower
d = fire
e = thighs
f = hips
g = side
h = jugs
i = shock
j = cocker
k = brook
l = tush
m = sizzle
n = ridge
o = kiss
p = bomb
q = cream
r = thong
s = heat
t = whip
u = cheeks
v = rock
w = hiney
x = button
y = lick
z = juice

Inky's Dream House

Everyone likes to play the game, of what you would do if you won the lottery. I like to envision my "dream house" and what it would contain. I would showcase it all in some MTV Cribs-style documentary, so everyone could be jealous. So here are a few must-haves for the new pad.

Closets
1. The hangers would be so fine, they would never leave shoulder nipples on anything.
2. A closet that would have a separate area for all my cherished items. These would include my shoes, cardigans, purses, t-shirts and accessories.
3. A chaise lounge in the center of the room and a chandelier a'la Mariah.

Bathrooms
1. Jacuzzi tub and a separate steam shower.
2. Separate cabinets for all my products, even though I barely use any
3. Flat screen tv and phone, for all those important calls on the crapper.

General
1. The house would be wired for sound, so I could have tunes in every room
2. Library and music room with built in shelves and those ladders like bookstores have
3. Professional kitchen so my man can cook me up some fine grub
4. Pool, fully staffed with boys in tight shorts
5. Fleet of cars, including a Mini, 2 Nash Metropolitans (one black, one pink), Vespa and a mechanic with big hands
6. Game room with Ms. Pacman, pool table, and full bar
7. Home theatre with popcorn machine, and no one is allowed to talk

These are just some of the many things I would do with my winnings. What about you?

Dumbass in Distress

I encounter crazy people everyday. And, yesterday, I met a woman who took the cake. While being forced to help her, she started talking to me. In the process of the conversation, she mentioned that she had a new car, but she couldn't figure out where the air conditioning was, and how to turn it on. One of the men in the building offered to help her, and of course she jumped at the chance, since it was about 90 degrees outside.

Why is it that men fall for these stupid, or stupid-acting, women who can't seem to do anything for themselves? Could be I'm just jealous. Because I don't do this. So that means I'm stuck opening my own doors, carrying my own boxes, and yes, finding my own air conditioning. But, men are only too willing to aid these women, because most of the time they are attractive, and let's face it, not very bright. A tempting treat to most guys looking to score, or at least get a cheap ogle. Men always use the excuse that they are "just trying to be helpful", but if that were the case, their charity would be far more universal. But, as most women can tell you, that is not the case.

Now, I know not ever girl who does this is stupid. It is the height of manipulation to use your "charms" to get what you want when you know that people, men in particular, will fulfill your every request because you are semi-hot. And, to those women I say, shame on you. May you all have to live as a average woman for one day of your life, and do your own bidding.

But, this woman I encountered was truly stupid. Come on, not knowing how to turn on a car air conditioner? That is a new all time low for helplessness. In nature, she would be killed next to the watering hole by the hungry lion. But, in our society, she will get by, will the help of others. While not attractive, per se, she does possess the winning combo of thin and blonde that will no doubt carry her straight through life, unscathed.

And, before you tell me I'm just a fat, ugly, bitter, old hag; let me just say to you. . .I am not old.

War Torn

I sat and watched Baghdad ER tonight, and I cried. I saw this huge, young Marine get operated on, after taking shrapnel to the chest from an IED. He wouldn't stop bleeding, and it became clear that he was going to die soon. The chaplain leaned down and said to him that they wanted him to fight. But, if he couldn't fight anymore, it was okay to let go. And, he died. While it was happening, this group of doctors and nurses prayed over his body. Then he was gone.

The soldier didn't know this chaplain, but at least he had someone there, telling him it was okay, and that he wasn't alone. How many soldiers over there have had to die all alone, blown up on the side of some sand road? If you have ever had to tell someone you love, lying in a bed dying, that it was okay to let go, you know it is the hardest thing you will ever have to do. And, this chaplain had to do it way too much I'm sure. He may not know these young soldiers, but you could see how much he cared for all of them.

When will all of this stop? When is it ever going to be enough?

Anakin = Vadar

Okay, it's official. I am now a member of the dark side. I'm on myspace.com. I know, I swore I would never, but alas, here I am. So, fine all you people who have been bugging me since god know's when: I'm here, I'm lacking in friends, what are you going to do about it?

Unrelated Events

Just a few things to let everyone know I am still alive.

*Being kind of new to this whole 9/11 conspiracy thing, I was shocked when I watched this movie about the theories surrounding the events. Whether you believe it or not . . . fascinating as hell. (PS If I go missing, I'm at Gitmo)

*Just got the book from the Harvard girl, I'll let you know how it is.

*Trying to decide if I want to bag the idea of the 30th birthday party, and just go to Vegas. Opinions?

*Got someone in trouble at work today, felt good. Am I horrible?

*Add Margaret Cho to the ongoing and never-ending list of concerts for me. July 6th.

I'll write more when there is more to say.

The Cribs: The New Fellas

There is nothing worse on earth than going to see a concert and having to sit through a shitty opening act. Most of the time, I skip the opening act entirely, if their reputation precedes them. But, on my recent pilgrimage to see Franz Ferdinand and Death Cab for Cutie with my cousin, the Cribs were the opening band. Not knowing a thing about them, and with no where else to go, we decided to listen. I'm glad we did. These Brits, in keeping with the tradition of acts like Babyshambles and the Libertines, rocked.

The threesome from Wakefield, England, kicked through song after song of snotty, energetic pop. So, I decided to go out and buy the record. While lacking a little energy of the live show, I have to say the record did not disappoint. Tracks like "Hey Scenesters!" and "Mirror Kisses" showcase the band's pop-punk energy and swagger best. Top to bottom, I have to say that the Cribs certainly know how to get your head bobbing. So, go put on your tightest pants, your most ironic Girl Scout t-shirt, your horn-rimmed glasses and listen to the Cribs rock like only nerdy Brit boys can. You won't be sorry.

Hits Just Keep on Coming . . .

* Two more shows added to the schedule *
Missy Higgins on June 8th at the Canal Room in NYC
Cat Power on June 10th at the Town Hall in NYC

#44

I have been absent from my blog lately. Mostly due to the fact that I have been completely uninspired. I haven't been feeling strongly about anything, at least not anything good, and I find I dwell too much on the bad shit as it is. So, why write about the bad, when I can't even think of anything funny to say about it.

I am attributing this feeling to the fact that I am thinking back to a year ago. When I was climbing bridges, swimming with the fish, holding wild animals in my arms and driving on the wrong side of the road. This time last year, we were in Australia, and having the time of our lives. On this day, last year, we were getting ready to spend our second-last day in Sydney. I'll never forget turning a corner and seeing one of the most famous buildings, the Sydney Opera House, for the first time. We shopped for records, and probably walked 15+ miles in one day. Then, we jetted to Cairns, and dove on the Great Barrier Reef, held a koala at the Kuranda Animal Sanctuary, and cruised the harbor by the light of a million new stars. Then, we finished in Melbourne, quite possibly the coolest city ever. We drove the Great Ocean Road, cruised the Queen Victoria Markets and ate delicious muffins in a garden sanctuary in the middle of the city.

This year, I am here. There is no awe-inspiring view from my window. No wild adventures waiting when I wake up, no jet lagged laughing sessions in the middle of the night. Just work, home, and waking up to more of the same. So, sorry for the lack of posts. I'll be back to (relatively) normal soon. Until then, I'm ten thousand miles away.

Too Much Edgy

Friday night. At home. Nothing to do. You flip through the channels on the television, hoping to find something that will at least pass the time. Well, I hit paydirt this past friday. It was the Miss USA pageant, live from Baltimore, Maryland. Hosted by Nancy O'Dell and the hottest Lachey left, Drew.

Miss USA is kind of the less attractive, less intelligent version of the Miss America pageant. This one is owned by one Donald Trump. So you know it's extra classy. Having missed the very beginning of the pageant, we had to pick it up during the swimsuit portion of the show. In Miss USA, all the ladies wear the same bikini. Gold, with sparkles. More noticeable, is their apparent leniency towards going under the knife. There were most definitely some surgically enhanced breasts there, and most likely some noses too.

And, let's not forget the celebrity judges. This crop was impressive to say the least. Hines Ward of the Superbowl champ Steelers, Jillian Barberie, Olympic champ Chad Hedrick and of course, Donald Trump Jr. They were the ones who got to ask the hard hitting, all important final question of the 5 finalists, Kentucky, California, Ohio, Florida, and Georgia. Miss California and Miss Ohio actually did a fine job. But the other three, oh dear lord.

First was Georgia, who informed Hines Ward that what men could learn from women was that they are "strong" because she wore high heels everyday for 3 weeks straight. Miss Florida informed us that society is too PC in the "Department of Religion" and basically managed to befuddle the Donald Jr. And, our winner, Miss Kentucky. Well, she is responsible for the title of this post. She was asked about pop stars and whether they were role models. She said that they were mostly, "Too much edgy" for young girls to look up to. And, thus, cemented her place at the head of the pack. She lists her ability to communicate with anyone as her strongest asset. I hope the ability to notice irony will soon replace that one. But, maybe I am being mean to our Miss Kentucky. To be fair, she did have a nice rack, and I'm sure all that money and make up will come in handy with her future plans of being really pretty and not very smart.

Oh, did I mention that she likes to scrapbook?

Angry Inky's Day Off

Last week, I played hooky from work. I don't often do this, usually if I'm taking off work, clearly it's for a live music performance. But, I woke up that morning and thought "How can I possibly be expected to face work on a day like this." And, what better way to honor the 20th (can you fucking believe that?) anniversary of the classic Ferris Bueller's Day Off then with a day off of my own. After calling in with some lame-ass excuse, I was free. So, of course the first thing I did was go back to bed for like 3 more hours. Then, I got up and got to spend the day with my hubby, went for a drive, had lunch, dodged the afore-mentioned religious tactical team, and basically just had a great, fun day while the others toiled and scraped.

There is a lot to be said for the mental health day, and especially now that the weather is great, I encourage you all to do the same. Go ahead, steal the 1961 Ferrari 250 GT California, go to the city, have lunch at the "snooty. . .snotty" restaurant, and then race home so you don't get busted. Whatever you choose, enjoy it. Remember, life is short, but work is long.

SAVE FERRIS!!

Baby, Baby, It's a Wild World

I couldn't resist doing a post to welcome little Cameron into the world. Jesse and Hayley, Congratulations. He is adorable!
You're going to make me catch the baby rabies.

He Has Risen!

For the last several days, we've had stalkers in our neighborhood. We have tried hiding from them, we have tried outrunning them, but they seem to find us anyway. You know them, you've seen them. The door-to-door religion salesmen that come to everyone's home eventually. For whatever reason, be it the weather or the season, they are out in force around our house. We have literally ran to our car, in an effort to get out of town before they could shove their literature into our hands. We have returned home only to be confronted with them, knocking on the door of an unsuspecting neighbor, turning as soon as they hear our car doors close.

I'm not sure I really understand what these people are hoping to accomplish. Like coming to me during my leisure hours will convince me to convert to your way of thinking. Or that I just haven't heard about Jesus yet, and maybe if you give me a pithy pamphlet, I'll finally know what all the fuss has been about all these years. Whatever the motivation, let me assure you that no matter what may happen to me, I'm not going to come to a religious epiphany with you on my doorstep, or because you tell me to. It is just not how I operate.

But, thank you, dear proselytizer. Without your appearance, I wouldn't get much needed laughs thinking of ways to make you uncomfortable. So, cheers. And, hey, by the way. . .would you be interested in learning all about Satan?

Geek Squad Must Die!!

We've been having some computer woes. We thought that getting some new virus and spyware stuff would fix it. But, it didn't. We saw a commercial for those Geek Squad guys at Best Buy, and we thought it was something we should look into, as we were coming to the end of our ropes. We took it down, they said they could install the new hooey and that everything else looked fine. Turns out not so much. We were told by them that something else was wrong and they wanted $59 and A WEEK to find it. Not even to fix it, just to find it. So, we told them no thanks and went down to pick it up. At this point, I was very angry and stressed out. So, when we go down to get it, the Geek starts getting our stuff together. Then, he tells us we have to buy the software anyway, even though he couldn't install it, because they opened the package. I was so pissed off I could barely see straight. Then, the guy says, "You seem a little stressed, is there something I can do for you?" In this really snotty voice. I almost jumped over the counter and beat this little snot-nosed punk to death. But, cooler heads (my husbands) prevailed. When I tell him they coulddn't help me, obviously, he said, "Well, we offered to run the diagonstic but you said no" I was ready to beat him again. Who the hell is this guy to patronize me when not only am I having to pay for shit I can't use, but then he can't even fix the damn thing. So, he is lucky to still be alive right now.

SO, to all my readers and anyone else out there. DON'T TAKE YOUR COMPUTERS TO THE GEEK SQUAD AT BEST BUY!!! They are clueless, mean and overpriced. Luckily, our friend Jon, has a brother-in-law who can fix computers. It took him one hour and he didn't even need to do that much to it. So, Ricky, you are the man. Geek Squad, you best recognize that when you can't even figure out what is going on with a computer, you best not talk shit!!

Can We All Agree?

Can we all agree that:

*Air marshals who are meant to protect us and America should not be taking bribes and smuggling blow.

*People who work for Homeland Security should not be soliciting sex online from someone he thinks is 14.

*Now apparently singing along with a classic Clash tune is grounds for arrest. If this is where we are in the war on terror, we are all screwed.

*I know more than a few people who should look into this unusual online auction item.


Sometimes the world of the news is more strange than the soaps. Tonight is Dinosaur Jr. Can't wait. Will have more to say about that later.

For the Last Time

I had to wear the Puffy Paint shirt for the last time today. Thank God.