Monday, October 11, 2010
mr writer returns
it's been busy up on this loop. I've finished off the final edits of my novita (dead parade of lovers), and I've been immersing myself in a music project.
after some time away, I thought I'd return with a lovely little tune that has "writer" in the title. how tops am I? best of bothies with the music and the writing and, well: clowns.
this is from stereophonics, a fantastic british band that just never quite caught on in america. true sad trend.
enjoy!
Labels:
big in britain not in USA,
clowns,
novita,
stereophonics
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
A Yard Ain't No Hard
how I miss you, Wildcats.
one of my favorite memories from college is rambling over to the Frog & Firkin once my afternoon classes ended: a short jaunt from campus onto University Blvd.
me, some other blokes, a jukebox, a sunny patio, and beer served in a Yard-long Test Tube-Type of Deliciousness.
it was also the first place I tried a Witbier, which was a beauteous gateway into splashes of Spatens & other crisp liquid Euro-fare.
this toast is for you, Frog!
one of my favorite memories from college is rambling over to the Frog & Firkin once my afternoon classes ended: a short jaunt from campus onto University Blvd.
me, some other blokes, a jukebox, a sunny patio, and beer served in a Yard-long Test Tube-Type of Deliciousness.
it was also the first place I tried a Witbier, which was a beauteous gateway into splashes of Spatens & other crisp liquid Euro-fare.
this toast is for you, Frog!
Monday, July 26, 2010
I no-heart NYC
the greatest city in the world?
I've been to NYC in a limited capacity: once to Manhattan, once to Brooklyn. both were very short trips, and both taught me well enough of the charms of the City That Never Sleeps: it never did a thing for me.
please do indulge me with this list of twenty places I've been to and preferred more spiritually/intrinsically/romantically. These are places I'd rather be in than that bustling Metropolis if given the choice. In no particular order:
1. Tucson, AZ
2. San Francisco, CA
3. San Antonio, TX
4. Boston, MA
5. Baltimore, MD
6. Las Vegas, NV
7. Pittsburgh, PA
8. Portland, ME
9. Orlando, FL
10. San Diego, CA
11. Santa Fe, NM
12. Washington, DC
13. Austin, TX
14. Memphis, TN
15. San Juan, PR
16. Flagstaff, AZ
17. Gettysburg, PA
18. New Orleans, LA
19. New Haven, CT
20. Richmond, VA
Realize: I don't necessarily loathe the big city. I wanna dig it. I do. I wanna close my eyes while Alicia Keys sings it to me & feel feel feel that brilliance.
But I haven't yet.
Thank you. That is all.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
moving. just keep moving.
so, for those in the know: I'm moving. to Baltimore (The Wire jokes have all been said).
My apologies for not posting in a bit. as you can imagine, it's been a pretty hectic time with the move, the job search, the just-right sweater vest. so until I return like the Nerds when they went to Paradise, please enjoy the best Moving of all:
by the by: this record ("Supergrass") is a top five of mine ever.
My apologies for not posting in a bit. as you can imagine, it's been a pretty hectic time with the move, the job search, the just-right sweater vest. so until I return like the Nerds when they went to Paradise, please enjoy the best Moving of all:
by the by: this record ("Supergrass") is a top five of mine ever.
Labels:
Baltimore,
moving,
suck it Simsbury,
supergrass
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
I Seriously Wanna Punch Youse in the Face: a Pacifist's Journey.
I'm as easy going as the next guy: I love puppies, dandelions, and Gandhi. But I'll tell you what, man. my resolve can sure get tested:
1. screech diamond: you were never an interesting character, and you're an even worse human being. plus, that beard makes you look like a high-level NAMBLA member. good job.
2. propaganda: being a student of logic, you folks push the buttons like a mormon drinking a coke: you just ain't fooling anyone.
3. frat-maicans: seriously. either get the keg out of the hallway, or take Bob off your door. because the plight & poetry of the Jamaican will never make sense to you no matter how intoxicated you get.
4. reality-celeb: since you're such an asshole, I can't even root for Glinda the Good Witch to fix your legs.
5. the proud american: my suggestion for these fellas: take off the shirt and show your appreciation by volunteering at the V.A.
6. baby queens: can't you just go get a happy meal like the rest of your pre-school class?
7. craig sager: c'mon, my man. when there is a google search called "craig sager suits" something needs to be done.
8. pocketless jean chicks: I've seen maybe 1 out of a thousand that actually looks good in these. I'm a fan of the bum as much as the next guy. but dude: it ain't working.
1. screech diamond: you were never an interesting character, and you're an even worse human being. plus, that beard makes you look like a high-level NAMBLA member. good job.
2. propaganda: being a student of logic, you folks push the buttons like a mormon drinking a coke: you just ain't fooling anyone.
3. frat-maicans: seriously. either get the keg out of the hallway, or take Bob off your door. because the plight & poetry of the Jamaican will never make sense to you no matter how intoxicated you get.
4. reality-celeb: since you're such an asshole, I can't even root for Glinda the Good Witch to fix your legs.
5. the proud american: my suggestion for these fellas: take off the shirt and show your appreciation by volunteering at the V.A.
6. baby queens: can't you just go get a happy meal like the rest of your pre-school class?
7. craig sager: c'mon, my man. when there is a google search called "craig sager suits" something needs to be done.
8. pocketless jean chicks: I've seen maybe 1 out of a thousand that actually looks good in these. I'm a fan of the bum as much as the next guy. but dude: it ain't working.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Ronnie James: allowing brothers to like each other.
so it's 1984, and a precocious ten-year old is eating chicken mcnuggets in front of the MTV after school. and wouldnt you know it: in comes the older brother. this dude is the classic 80s stoner-teen. long hair, ripped jeans, Priest Jersey-T, smelling of the green stuff.
being seven years apart in age, we never really had those genius bonding moments siblings closer to age may have had. but we always had music. and on one day we had a video premier:
the last in line.
of course, there was that lovely opening scene of a kid on a bike getting into an elevator to hell, you know: off to the witch, man.
there were the post-apocalyptic torture scenes.
there was vivian fucking campbell shredding pre-leppard (another blog for another time).
there was ronnie james dio playing dungeons & dragons with a damn lightsaber.
and of course, there was brother and brother, quiet in the shared radness that is DIO.
I put that video on my brother's facebook page not long ago, the sucker I am for remembrance. and why that day stands out in my brain, I'm not sure. of course, it's probably the lightsaber.
but it's there, friends. an indelible memory of me and my brother vibing together in the glory of metal.
thanks for that RJD: and rest in peace, sir.
being seven years apart in age, we never really had those genius bonding moments siblings closer to age may have had. but we always had music. and on one day we had a video premier:
the last in line.
of course, there was that lovely opening scene of a kid on a bike getting into an elevator to hell, you know: off to the witch, man.
there were the post-apocalyptic torture scenes.
there was vivian fucking campbell shredding pre-leppard (another blog for another time).
there was ronnie james dio playing dungeons & dragons with a damn lightsaber.
and of course, there was brother and brother, quiet in the shared radness that is DIO.
I put that video on my brother's facebook page not long ago, the sucker I am for remembrance. and why that day stands out in my brain, I'm not sure. of course, it's probably the lightsaber.
but it's there, friends. an indelible memory of me and my brother vibing together in the glory of metal.
thanks for that RJD: and rest in peace, sir.
Labels:
DIO,
Matt Mariotti,
nostalgia
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