"board by oases"

Lookit the nice email I rec'vd today! I emailed Aiko right back. Sure hope I hear from him soon!


SHY TO FCUK WITH UR SHORT GUN? L0NGER 3" INSTANTLY

Aiko Alyson to me

occupy mushroom skippy,
arena laxative gopher chordata michelin inkling? priscilla analogous suffix fiske bash sulfa,
tremulous crucify imperturbable tomato transfusable? convalescent contrabass pepsico. francium xavier exasperate macromolecule.
maya beefy disambiguate venomous acknowledgeable wolf? eumenides yak account barbudo dynamo.
board by oases, scare upkeep documentation dibble brazilian. nestle cordial opossum tomorrow improvisate walrus?

Pffft....

That's it. Enough, already. The shit keeps hurtling down my very own hill and it's taking my breath away - literally. Today was a miserable day which carries over nicely from last week. I really, really, really need a holiday. Yes, yes - I know I say this all the time and that's because it's fucking true. Maybe one day I will actually get a holiday and then I can stop bitching. Until then, feel free to skip a line here and there.

Some good news: I scored a ticket to the Tweedy show tomorrow night. Good for me! I just wish I felt like leaving the house. Perhaps things will look up tomorrow. Funny, to tempt fate. Really, why not?

I'm bone tired and I would do filthy things for a hotfudge sundae. Don't judge me.

Fresh Pepper

this is funny shit... nothing brings a smile to my pallid face like a little fresh pepper:


An open letter to my friend who sent me on a blind date last night:

Dear Friend:

Are you insane?

That girl looked like a model. She was one of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen in real life. Don't you know how the league system works?

I was sitting in the restaurant actually feeling bad that I was wasting this girl's time. People at other tables were murmuring, "He must be rich or have a gigantic penis." I think the waiter thought I had a gun pointed at her under the table -- he looked directly at her and asked in a low voice, "IS EVERYTHING OK HERE?"

When I went to the men's room after the main course, I didn't expect her to still be at the table when I got back.

I didn't even try to kiss her at the end of the night because I just didn't think it would be fair.

Let's recap Fresh's life so we can get this right next time: Fresh makes decent money. Fresh lives in his parents' basement. Fresh is not that bright. Fresh is not eloquent and tends to use phrases like "cock ring" and "Astroglide" in casual conversation with your family.

But thanks anyway,
Fresh

With Glowing Hearts

Let's hear it for the Canadian border guards!

Pastry

"Older women are like aging strudels - the crust may not be so lovely, but the filling has come at last into its own."

~Robert Farrar Capon



Depressing as hell, if you ask me.

Please, Ed... water...please?

c'mon, someone make this into a tshirt for me


Well, well, well...

It's just around midnight and my lungs feel shallow and I'm way too tired to go to bed. Tonight I ate three caramels and while they were delicious, my mouth feels gritty with some weird sugar/chemcial aftertaste. I'm still on my couch- in a towel. I had a bath a couple of hours ago and meant only to spend a few minutes in front of the tv to check the election results. Now, I have a tweed imprint on my ass where the towel didn't quite cover. I feel exhausted from drifting in and out of a sugar-induced coma and I'm so thirsty.

When did Ed McMahon lose all the weight? He's selling something or other for the old folk right this moment on the teevee. I never liked him, but now I think maybe I just didn't get him. I think I was maybe too young. I used to find his chuckling embarrassing now I wish he looked more like that hefty, jolly, pinky ring-wearing guy I remember from the Tonight Show.

But I digress...or stall...

I should go get some water, brush my teeth and dream about full lung capacity. My landlord smokes and my apartment smells like a cheap motel, minus that good sex smell. Like a fine parfum without it's top note - it just sucks.

It's not like this hasn't been said before...

...but, come ON now.





Willis on skates, that coke-snorting Alanis fucker from Full House or Nancy Kerrigan's surprisingly big ass? Thankfully, you don't have to choose!

I watched the whole show - from start to finish. It won't wash off.

Housekeeping

I have recently dumped my comments provider and have decided to go with Blogger comments. I haven't decided if I will go through the old comments and cut and paste them into previous posts...
That's a fair bit of work. We shall see. So for now - enjoy the new commenting area and the permalinks. I love you all.

For the girls in the ghetto...

me + my laptop= your questions answered



(the following post is a response to Violet and co's desperate plea)


Dear ladies..

The recipe for music writing is quite simple...

First... namedrop, namedrop, namedrop! (is this one word? it is now)

• Name the cool hole-in-the-wall venue. If you know any of the staff's names - say so.
  
  
• Name your cool friends accompanying you to the "show" (never say "gig")
  
  
• Name all the people who somehow kind of connect you to the band members (your housekeeper's daughter gave the bass player head - whatever)
  
  
• If it's an album you're reviewing make lots of references to the founding fathers of independent music - The Pixies, Sonic Youth and if you're really clever some ironic good ol' not-so-independent-but-that's-ok-due-to-the-irony-of-it-all band like the Allman Bros.
  
  
• Reference some exclusive show you attended (or just say you were there) from a year previous. Like that Bright Eyes show everyone refused to shut up about. If the aforementioned show happened to have taken place in an historical-now-closed-forever club - you've got it made in the shade.
  
  
• It never hurts to mention Buck 65. This is Canada. He lives in France. There is much mileage here.

I personally wouldn't bother peppering your review with references to the Discorder. Nigga, please - you're beyond all that college shit. Cite stuff from NME. Some music pricks saythey sold out ages ago but in reality they all want to be NME. And if you're up to it - slyly insinuate that you have connections over there. They're in the UK which is super far away. No one will know.

Second... Go off on some obnoxious tangent that showcases your hip lifestyle and general know-it-all attitude. Put that art history/women's studies/film/art school degree to work!

Third... Make someone feel bad about themselves. It doesn't really matter how. If you can use steps 1 and 2 from above to accomplish this, then bravo! You're conserving time and energy. The point is to alienate your reader. Everyone likes mean people because mean people are confident and probably have a good reason to hate everyone. This is particularly true in the "indie" music scene (note how I put "indie" in quotations to let you all know that I'm a bit uncomfortable with the "label" and therefore really quite hip and cool - and probably mean).

If you don't manage to use steps 1 or 2 to abuse your reader then resort to something else. Mention the comps you got to a sold-out show or how the lead singer invited you backstage and after feeling you up he whispered to you, "You're so fucking hot. You're skinny and sexy in a rock 'n roll way. I hate fat chicks". Or, this is foolproof: suggest that your readers should head on over to Scratch Records to chat the clerk up about the "new music" scene in Vancouver. The clerk can do your dirty business for you! Someone will be in tears in no time. And, who's behind it all? You are! Brilliant!

So, pull out your white pumps and tease the back of your hair - you're a music writer!

Fuck the election...use your vote wisely...

Why do you hate books? Why do you hate women?

You don't? Well, you'd best prove it. Vote for her. Vote for her daily.

Or carry on with your book-burning misogynist ways, whatever floats your boat.

Saturday's Child

Your actions today could take an investigative approach, dear Cancer. You are able to probe much deeper than usual as you search people's eyes for the answers that you seek. Feel free to take aggressive action based on your gut instincts. Use your powerful emotions as a tool instead of thinking of them as something that holds you back.

Now all I need is some eyecontact.

The thirteenth ain't got nothing on me

Today I woke up with an itchy chin. I thought maybe this was some sort of good luck omen, like money for an itchy palm. Well I Gooogled "itchy chin" and dozens of asthma sites came up. Apparently it's a symptom of an oncoming attack - along with pale skin, insomnia and irritability. If this is the case I've spent the better part of my life preparing for an asthma attack.

Here I thought maybe good fortune was coming my way and instead tonight I feel like a sack of flour is resting on my chest. That's not as sexy as it sounds, believe me you.

You know, when I was in my early twenties I thought I was pretty hot shit. I would like a little bit of that loving feeling back tonight.

Scarlet makes me feel bad.

vinyl or au natural?



I am watching Letterman. Scarlet Johanson is on. They showed a clip from 1998. It was her first appearance on Letterman. She was 13. I moved to Vancouver in 1998. I was 26. So many reasons to hate math.

She looks fucking hot, in case you're wondering. Great dress. Great rack. Great lipgloss.

Great. I want a cigarette.

Do all men hate lipgloss? I love it and most of my female friends also enjoy a shiny lip. But, according to the results from my very informal poll - 2 out of 2 men think it's gross.

Bemused

"I find adulthood to be a very black situation."
- Martin Tielli


And how.

new year resignations

new year resolutions... i am more resigned than resolved, but that's not entirely a bad thing.

i am resigned to getting healthier- romantically, physically and financially. its not so much that its a new year - but that its another year and i'm careening into my 34th.

i shore would like to get it right or at the very least - not get it totally wrong.

200...

jinx