Saturday, July 24, 2010
Vacant, room available...
Off for a week of booze, food, and beach, in Florida, the land of sunshine and sharks.
Quick observation: Watching a little "Palladia" on the boob-tube-Do The Fray actually suck as bad as I think they do? I'd heard of them, but until this morning, had avoided hearing them. What a bunch of silly twerps, obviously drunk with feelings of their own self-worth. As long as I'm being abusive, I'd like to insult Shinedown. Lord are they just about useless, non-descript repetitive garbage. They could be The Fray...or any number of crappy, carbon copy bullshit inoffensive, non-creative garbage.
Back in the day, myself and Mr.Boston would regularly opine to anyone that would listen, that it was better to try something different, and fail miserably, than to just recycle the same old crap that everyone else does. And lord knows The Fray, Five For Fighting, Theory Of A Deadman, Shinedown, Nickleback, Daughtry (whose musical cred isn't helped by having a disturbing resemblance to Vin Diesel) and just about every other "new" artist I've heard in the last xx years who do well to keep that in mind.
Jesus, I'm old...
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Shake Your Groove Thing
A dilemma in regards to proper etiquette:
If you are at a movie, concert or sporting event, and you need to move down the row to go to the restroom or perhaps concession stand, is it best to stick your butt or your crotch in people's faces? Is it optional, depending on who's sitting in the row you're going down?
As long as I'm discussing convention, yesterday I went to the outdoor pool, and bore witness to some of the odder behavior I've seen in a public place for some time. Not one, but two independent cases of Mr.Speedos making spectacles of themselves. I mean, as previously observed, anyone that wears speedos and is not named "Spitz" or "Phelps" is obviously a delusional twit anyway, but these two guys took great pains to separate themselves from the pack. The first, after completing his afternoon swim (which didn't appear to be an Olympic calibre performance) proceeded to engage in an exercise routine at the poolside, which involved lots of push ups, and sticking his butt in the air. We observed that this display would certainly have been easier, and more comfortable for him to perform at home, instead of on hot, rough concrete, and could only surmise that he was either homeless, stupid, or hoping to provide entertainment to the pools' various social commentators. As it turned out, this man was a mere piker. A warm-up to the main event as it were.
The second Mr.Speedo (or Beard-o as he shall now be known) was astonishing. After completing his non Olympic performance (At one point I was swimming in the lane next to his-my fat ass passed him, and rest assured sports fans, my swimming style is more akin to that of a wounded manatee than a dolphin), Beard-o proceeded to launch into a series of contortions worthy of a sideshow at a cheap and seedy circus. This clown was performing yoga, in his speedos, again, on hot rough concrete, right next to the pool, as if he were on a stage. Which I suppose he was. Lord knows, we couldn't quit watching. It was fascinating to watch the intent look on his face as he turned himself into all sorts of bendy positions. He was a torso twisting, toe extending, one leg balancing machine. I was half expecting him to launch into a one person interpretation of Tchaikovsky's Swan Lake at some point.
And what made it even more amusing, was the guy's over all appearance. His facial hair stylings were those of an Al Queda agent, bent on some form of Jihad. Imagine a depiction of the Prophet Mohammad in speedos, and you're getting the picture. Outstanding public theatre!
Friday, July 9, 2010
Tubthumping
Thought for the day: What if I got knocked down, but just didn't bother getting up again? Would that be so bad? Maybe the view is nicer from the floor? And if I'm only going to get knocked down again, why not just stay there on the floor, and make the best of it? Lord knows, according to the song, I'm drunk as a lord anyway.
I would write a handbook for how to be a better slacker...except it would take more effort than I'm willing to invest.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Hey you, I want to be your boyfriend
Oh yes boys and girls, let us hearken back to those glorious days, when power pop ruled. I think a part of me will always be stuck in 1978 and 79. All this incredible, wonderful, finger poppin', toe tappin' music was just flying out. Unfortunately, here in St.Louis, it couldn't get on the radio, as it was choked out by disco on the top 40 stations, and Rush/Triumph and a lot of other very very bad music on K-Shit 95.
Which reminds me of K-She's stupid polls they used to do, in which their loyal listeners were to fill out their fave three songs so that "Real Rock Radio" could favor us with a 'countdown' on whatever holiday weekend was coming up. Quite predictably, the top three, in varied order were: "Stairway To Heaven", "Layla", and "Freebird". Me, I always dedicated Elvis Costello's "Radio Radio" to our good friends at K-SHE. For a modern rock station, they sure didn't believe in playing any. I can flat out tell you that no new wave, punk, or even U2 got played through the mid-80's. Too 'edgy' is all I can guess.
Anyway, if you want some ear candy, direct your browser (and PC speakers) here, and then just click around...
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