random

In recent news, I'm unashamedly anticipating seeing "Iron Man" on Saturday. Maybe it's all the explosions. I do feel that I was wrongfully denied a childhood grooming towards blowing up neighborhood animals with quarter-sticks of dynamite and later on, foreigners, through the scope of a rifle firing explosive depleted uranium rounds.

Or...it could be all the comic books I insist on reading. Corruption, violence, extended adolescence, blah blah blah...the fact that it's basically all rubber science even I could make up and good-looking Californians is secondary, of course. I really, really don't know what it is.

I managed to somehow miraculously get enough sleep last night and even beat the alarm clock this morning. It's like Jesus finally decided to stop shitting on my chest every time we'd make love and I'm crying for him to stop, I don't think it's sexy and it burns and leaves a ras...wait, nevermind, forget you read that.

There's a Post-It attached to my computer screen here at work that says I applied for a copyediting job somewhere else, since as I recall, I forgot to CC myself when I applied for that job and thus, when I eventually get the "no thanks you suck" email, I'll remember. Trying to get any sort of (copy)/editing and writing jobs these days outside of economics and music are almost impossible for someone who can't even be bothered to care that he looks like he should be shooting a family heirloom AK-47 from a mountaintop in what used to be Persia, at some poor kid from Milwaukee or whatever, who just wanted to get out of the 'hood and make something for himself in This Man's Army.

For five whole dollars, I got spicy chicken on a stick, four spring rolls, and a bottle of water, all from street vendors today. I feasted like a Viking warlord underneath the platform of the LIRR while a parade passed me by...a delayed celebration of Chinese New Year's funded by a local church methinks. There was a dragon, and drums.

And in keeping my big trip outdoors fruitful...I managed to remember to buy mouthwash, as I'd initially planned to.

I recently found an old tape by this band called The Youth Ahead.

I saw them on a bill years ago with a variety of ska bands in Long Island. The one dude who was singing had his baseball cap sideways.

I really liked this band, for some reason. The borderline diabetes saccharine pop-punk causes runs in my family.

I hope I don't have to take shots for this later on in life.

You care.

OK, I'm starting this blog a few days after the original inspiration, so I have to backdate it a bit.

These are from Thursday:

• Dead cat that I thought was a raccoon before I got close enough to see that it was a cat


• A guy getting his boat--the "Coronation II"--towed away (the trailer had a flat)


• A discarded book lying in the middle of the sidewalk, entitled "What You Need to Know About Sexual Compulsion"

I have my first-ever reading this weekend.

I'm excited...I'm thinking I should get a gun to bring with me just to punctuate the somber attitude and serious material we shall be discussing (radical forms of dealing with grief and death) with the occasional "VIVA LA WHISKEY" and shot into the ceiling of Bluestockings in NYC.

Any suggestions?

Go here;

http://www.bloggerschoiceawards.com/blogs/show/23497

Vote for my site, Late Night Wallflower (OK, technically "the site I write for sometimes that isn't actually MINE per se") so that we can finally fee loved.

Late Night Wallflower, started by Alfie, Elona, and Matt P has been in existance for over a year. We've managed to get some awesome stuff done since then, including interview with (NON-DEAD) Ian McKaye, Daryl Jennifer, Jeff from Modern Life Is War, photographer Chrissy Piper, reports on Different Kind Of Dude fest and THE Fest, as well as a ton of other shit.

"Vot

I've found that the rumors are true.

You really can't get jack-shit with an degree in English literature. Except of course, stuff that doesn't pay.

I've been spending a lot of time these past few months looking for a new job while still working at my current place of employment, a fairly cushy/flexible office gig that allows for things like getting drunk on Wednesday night and graduate school and writing columns for stupid websites that don't pay but give me an excuse to talk about the punk bands I saw the night before. However, it's an atmosphere of near-lacadaisical-ness (if that's a real word) that, combined with random bouts of sheer madness and last-minute deadline crunches, as well as working for genuine assholes, makes me want to take up hard drugs.

Apparently, Southwest Airlines is now a Disney-fied family-friendly airline, dedicated to erasing the evils of women showin' off a bit of leg from the friendly skies. Al-Quada has officially won.

Here's the latest
The original woman

I need to stop reading Consumerist.com because all it does is make me mad.

Oh the places that you'll go to find someone that you know;

First off, I am preparing to embark on what could be a landmark for me. On Thursday after work, I'm planning to go check out my friends The New Dress, along with Attica Attica (ex-Marathon), Jena Berlin, and Polar Bear Club. It'll be my 6th time seeing The New Dress.

Before them, the most time I've seen any band was 3, 4 at the most. However, I have discovered my mission in life, and it is to see this blatant-but-proud Billy Bragg-copying duo as much as humanly possible and pimp them out whenever possible, to whatever chump will listen. Are you a chump? If so, look up and listen to The New Dress. They're not a loose collective of art-school dropouts who all sleep with each other and make "music" with some salvaged Fisher-Price keyboards, but nor are they muscle-bound 80's washouts who were down with someone who was down with a cousin of the original bassist for Born Against.