X Piss on someone’s grave. (don’t forget to shake)
X Kick a puppy.
X Keep watching Brokeback Mountain and punching crotch every time it moves until it learns to stop moving at the sight of Jake’s supple buttocks and Heath’s —OWWW!
X Masturbate to videos of white women giving birth. (make sure that Mexican housekeeper cleans up the stains this time)
X Drop washers into a blind beggar’s cup. (no giggling when he thanks us)
X Check fine print on contract to see if there’s any way to get soul back from Satan.
X Discuss how a Boston/New York Super Bowl is another manifestation of the gay agenda. (launch undercover investigation of role of tight ends—OWWW!)
X Develop new, innovative ways to deliver backhanded racism to blacks. (remember, inner voice=colored, outer voice=black)
X Ask crippled guy in wheelchair to get something off the top shelf for us. (think of good FDR joke)
X Take extra laxitives to generate enough material for The Big Lead. (remember to remove pants before "producing" show)
X Enter Ed Begley, Jr. look-alike contest. (try to look like less of a pedophile this time)
X Audition for role of evil albino in DaVinci Code 2. (try to look less evil this time)
X Call Osama bin Laden to find out exactly how he feels about a Democratic political victory. (and beg him again for another 9/11)
X Boil Sean Hannity’s rabbit because he broke it off with me. (and keep punching crotch until we no longer want him—OWWW!)
X Scrub Rupert Murdoch’s balls until I can see my reflection. (give them a spit shine this time.)
Write another book about how liberals are the one’s destroying Christ’s message.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Friday, January 25, 2008
Friday CJ Random 11
It’s one more random than 10!
I learned this week that married couples who fight tend to live longer—assuming that they don’t get run over or shot or set on fire during said fight. This means The Lovely Becky and I are screwed. We really don’t fight. It’s mostly because we’re so close to being the same person that it seems pointless. I may as well get into an argument with my reflection. Here’s one example: TLB went upstairs last night to crawl in bed and watch TV. I seized the opportunity to play some Rock Band, and pretty soon was thwack-thwack-thwacking away on the plastic drums. After about a half hour, I heard TLB come downstairs. “Sorry,” I said, “is that totally loud and obnoxious?”
“It’s loud, but it doesn’t bother me,” she said. “I wasn’t coming down here to yell at you, so go ahead and play.”
She heard me playing toy drums to Iron Maiden and wasn't bothered by it. That’s true love right there. It also means we’ll be dead by 50, run over while holding hands by a guy in an SUV fleeing his wife as she pursues him while firing at him with a gun. They will of course live to be 90.
1) “The Ship Song,” Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. Classic sad song. It could be used as a montage of men about to charge into battle, yelling in super-slow-mo as sabers rattle and cannons explode, or for that part in a John Cusack romantic comedy where he realizes he’s been a twat and should settle down with the girl he left. That’s flexibility.
2) “Black Sabbath,” Black Sabbath. One of those first songs on a first album that foreshadows everything you need to know about a band’s career, from forging an entirely new genre of music to being too goofy to sustain for long without looking cartoonish (see also: Danzig, dilemma of being shirtless and wearing Goth eyeliner when 50 and).
3) “Rat Fink,” The Misfits. Okay, that was spooky. It’s like I said Danzig’s name and he appeared. Hmm, let me try this: Selma Hayek Selma Hayek Selma Hayek? Anyone? Poop. I’ll try a more traditional one: Beelzebub Beelzebub Beelzebub. Aw, fuck, now my office is full of flies and a demonic shadowy presence. Excuse me while I open a window and fetch my Rite of Exorcism.
4) “Love on the Rocks With No Ice,” The Darkness. Great, now my iPod is possessed with shit. The Darkness tried to combine AC/DC riffs with Freddy Mercury theatricality. They occasionally succeeded. This, however, is like Freddy Mercury’s mustache playing guitar in a schoolboy outfit that’s three sizes too small. Horrifyingly amusing.
5) “Don’t Know,” The Dodgers. That’s better. I love when Latin incantations and holy water work. The Dodgers are one of my best finds from the great 2007 Summer of Raiding Record Collections. Classic 70s power pop, all shimmery like the Southern California sky when the wind picks up enough to blow the smog toward Barstow. Not easy to find as I think this is long out of print, but worth seeking if you like groups like Big Star.
6) “Daft Punk Is Playing in My House,” LCD Soundsystem. Booty-shaking. Worth it for the bass line alone.
7) “My Rights Versus Yours,” The New Pornographers. The modern masters of guitar-based pop music. They always find the right blend of catchy and quirky, so you’re humming along because you want to, not because some insidious We-Built-This-City musical code has been downloaded into your brain.
8) “Little Doll,” The Stooges. Really captures the transition from the 60s to 70s punk. The guitar solo is all acid-trip Jefferson Airplane squealing, but the beat and attitude are all Ramones. So far the exorcism is holding up.
9) “Columbia,” Oasis. I was watching The Seven Stages of Rock on VH1 Classic (a great series to catch if it’s still running), and the last stage was on British indie bands from the 90s. They interviewed guitarist Noel Gallagher of Oasis, he of the Bert unibrow. And while he spent some of the time talking about the band and their music, he spent a lot of it talking about how much money they made and being filmed driving a Bentley. It was like a blueprint of how to be a Giant Rock Cock, and not in the funny cucumber-in-aluminum-foil way.
I have nothing against rock stars or other artists getting rich. I’d rather see someone who produces art for a living make money than someone like Donald Trump. But when you’re a rock and roller, you’re supposed to crash that Bentley into a pool or into the Playboy Mansion or choke to death on your own vomit in it. You’re supposed to at least pretend that you have contempt for your own wealth. If you instead act like the point of making music is to make money so you can buy more Bentleys, then you’re just Donald Trump with a guitar around your neck. Or in other words, Gene Simmons. But despite all that, this song does rock, and I forgive much because of rock.
10) “All Systems Red,” Calexico. Maybe you’ve seen those Christian rock commercials, where all the white people and the one Photoshopped black person stand enraptured while listening to groups that sound like Lava-soaped Nickelback bleat about higher powers and giving unto him and other squishy spiritual clichés that make this genre so Ned Flanders. Well, this Calexico songs triggers that rapturous feeling without having to sing about The Rapture. It starts out quiet and slowly builds to a towering crescendo of guitars and vocals that I actually feel on my skin. It’s the kind of music I hope I hear in heaven or at least catch a few notes of while on a smoke break in hell.
11) “Superhero,” Jane’s Addiction. Works much better as the theme music to Entourage than as a song, because as theme music it means it will lead to something entertaining, instead of remaining a four-minute reminder of why Jane’s Addiction should have stayed broken up.
Have a great weekend.
I learned this week that married couples who fight tend to live longer—assuming that they don’t get run over or shot or set on fire during said fight. This means The Lovely Becky and I are screwed. We really don’t fight. It’s mostly because we’re so close to being the same person that it seems pointless. I may as well get into an argument with my reflection. Here’s one example: TLB went upstairs last night to crawl in bed and watch TV. I seized the opportunity to play some Rock Band, and pretty soon was thwack-thwack-thwacking away on the plastic drums. After about a half hour, I heard TLB come downstairs. “Sorry,” I said, “is that totally loud and obnoxious?”
“It’s loud, but it doesn’t bother me,” she said. “I wasn’t coming down here to yell at you, so go ahead and play.”
She heard me playing toy drums to Iron Maiden and wasn't bothered by it. That’s true love right there. It also means we’ll be dead by 50, run over while holding hands by a guy in an SUV fleeing his wife as she pursues him while firing at him with a gun. They will of course live to be 90.
1) “The Ship Song,” Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. Classic sad song. It could be used as a montage of men about to charge into battle, yelling in super-slow-mo as sabers rattle and cannons explode, or for that part in a John Cusack romantic comedy where he realizes he’s been a twat and should settle down with the girl he left. That’s flexibility.
2) “Black Sabbath,” Black Sabbath. One of those first songs on a first album that foreshadows everything you need to know about a band’s career, from forging an entirely new genre of music to being too goofy to sustain for long without looking cartoonish (see also: Danzig, dilemma of being shirtless and wearing Goth eyeliner when 50 and).
3) “Rat Fink,” The Misfits. Okay, that was spooky. It’s like I said Danzig’s name and he appeared. Hmm, let me try this: Selma Hayek Selma Hayek Selma Hayek? Anyone? Poop. I’ll try a more traditional one: Beelzebub Beelzebub Beelzebub. Aw, fuck, now my office is full of flies and a demonic shadowy presence. Excuse me while I open a window and fetch my Rite of Exorcism.
4) “Love on the Rocks With No Ice,” The Darkness. Great, now my iPod is possessed with shit. The Darkness tried to combine AC/DC riffs with Freddy Mercury theatricality. They occasionally succeeded. This, however, is like Freddy Mercury’s mustache playing guitar in a schoolboy outfit that’s three sizes too small. Horrifyingly amusing.
5) “Don’t Know,” The Dodgers. That’s better. I love when Latin incantations and holy water work. The Dodgers are one of my best finds from the great 2007 Summer of Raiding Record Collections. Classic 70s power pop, all shimmery like the Southern California sky when the wind picks up enough to blow the smog toward Barstow. Not easy to find as I think this is long out of print, but worth seeking if you like groups like Big Star.
6) “Daft Punk Is Playing in My House,” LCD Soundsystem. Booty-shaking. Worth it for the bass line alone.
7) “My Rights Versus Yours,” The New Pornographers. The modern masters of guitar-based pop music. They always find the right blend of catchy and quirky, so you’re humming along because you want to, not because some insidious We-Built-This-City musical code has been downloaded into your brain.
8) “Little Doll,” The Stooges. Really captures the transition from the 60s to 70s punk. The guitar solo is all acid-trip Jefferson Airplane squealing, but the beat and attitude are all Ramones. So far the exorcism is holding up.
9) “Columbia,” Oasis. I was watching The Seven Stages of Rock on VH1 Classic (a great series to catch if it’s still running), and the last stage was on British indie bands from the 90s. They interviewed guitarist Noel Gallagher of Oasis, he of the Bert unibrow. And while he spent some of the time talking about the band and their music, he spent a lot of it talking about how much money they made and being filmed driving a Bentley. It was like a blueprint of how to be a Giant Rock Cock, and not in the funny cucumber-in-aluminum-foil way.
I have nothing against rock stars or other artists getting rich. I’d rather see someone who produces art for a living make money than someone like Donald Trump. But when you’re a rock and roller, you’re supposed to crash that Bentley into a pool or into the Playboy Mansion or choke to death on your own vomit in it. You’re supposed to at least pretend that you have contempt for your own wealth. If you instead act like the point of making music is to make money so you can buy more Bentleys, then you’re just Donald Trump with a guitar around your neck. Or in other words, Gene Simmons. But despite all that, this song does rock, and I forgive much because of rock.
10) “All Systems Red,” Calexico. Maybe you’ve seen those Christian rock commercials, where all the white people and the one Photoshopped black person stand enraptured while listening to groups that sound like Lava-soaped Nickelback bleat about higher powers and giving unto him and other squishy spiritual clichés that make this genre so Ned Flanders. Well, this Calexico songs triggers that rapturous feeling without having to sing about The Rapture. It starts out quiet and slowly builds to a towering crescendo of guitars and vocals that I actually feel on my skin. It’s the kind of music I hope I hear in heaven or at least catch a few notes of while on a smoke break in hell.
11) “Superhero,” Jane’s Addiction. Works much better as the theme music to Entourage than as a song, because as theme music it means it will lead to something entertaining, instead of remaining a four-minute reminder of why Jane’s Addiction should have stayed broken up.
Have a great weekend.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Study: White House made 935 false statements on Iraq War
Administration nearly made its goal of 1,000 lies
WASHINGTON - A new study by two non-profit groups reveals that, in the two years following September 11, President Bush and other top administration officials made 935 false statements about the risk posed by Iraq, falling 65 lies short of their goal of 1,000.
According to the report, members of the White House began targeting Iraq immediately after the September 11 attacks, believing the former Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein had somehow been involved. But the administration lacked a key ingredient for going to war: evidence.
Bush convened his advisors and outlined options. While Secretary of State Colin Powell asked for the administration to gather evidence, Vice President Dick Cheney argued that if they waited too long, Hussein would have time to perfect his army of "flesh-eating flying zombie monkeys." The Vice President's argument convinced President Bush to authorize a secret initiative calling for 1,000 false statements that would support a war with Iraq by the fall of 2003. It received the code name, "Operation: Pants on Fire."
Using the Afghanistan operation as a cover, key administration officials underwent months of covert Straight-Face Training from the C.I.A. The training would allow the officials to deliver any statement, no matter how outlandish, without winking, crossed fingers, laughter, or swear-to-Gods. The training was almost a complete success.
"We never could quite get President Bush's smirk reflex under control," said one intelligence official who spoke under the condition of anonymity. "But once we realized he always smirks, we concluded it would be a dead giveaway if he didn’t smirk."
The study shows that the White House used a full arsenal of lies. It relied most frequently on STDs—Subtle Truth Distortions that could penetrate almost undetected and not be exposed until much later, such as discussing raw, unconfirmed intelligence as if it had been vetted and deemed factual. However, the administration occasionally deemed it necessary to launch much more powerful SHT (Super Hyperbole Transmissions) at the media, massive high-load deceptions designed to obscure their excessive implausibility by spreading clouds of ignorance and fear across a wide viewing area. This was a favorite tactic of the Vice President's office, where officials referred to the technique as "skull-f--king the facts."
One of the most obvious SHTs occurred when National Security Advisor Condoleezza Rice, after admitting there was "uncertainty" about Iraq’s possession of nuclear weapons, followed up by stating, "We don’t want the smoking gun to be a mushroom cloud." However, the largest SHT came from Secretary of State Powell’s presentation about mobile biological weapons labs at the United Nations, a delivery that nearly tripled previous levels of SHT delivered by the administration.
White House officials developed a number of even higher-yield deceptions that never made it past the prototype stage, most of which remain classified. One such statement, recently declassified through a Freedom of Information Act inquiry, showed that the President intended to declare in his 2003 State of the Union address that Saddam Hussein, "ate babies every day for breakfast," a statement designed to appeal to undecided soccer moms. However, the C.I.A. believed that Iraq would retaliate by releasing sensitive intelligence about Vice President Cheney's baby-eating activities. Instead, the President unleashed a smaller SHT about Iraq's attempts to purchase uranium from Niger.
While the White House set a goal of 1,000 lies, that number was later deemed unnecessary. One former White House official, who wished to remain anonymous but is most definitely not a former Secretary of Defense, illustrated the high level of discussions about how many lies they would need.
"We actually weren’t sure 1,000 lies would be enough. But then it only took 67 lies to get the Democrats on board, and most of the mainstream media stopped fighting around lie 279."
With all significant resistance subdued, some called for an end to Operation: Pants on Fire. But as the source explained, "It was so much fun we kept it going. We could have easily hit 1,000 if we wanted—hell, I've lied three times in the same sentence before. I could have gotten us the last 65 in a one-hour interview with Wolf Blitzer. But we ultimately decided to conserve some of our STDs and SHT until after the war started."
WASHINGTON - A new study by two non-profit groups reveals that, in the two years following September 11, President Bush and other top administration officials made 935 false statements about the risk posed by Iraq, falling 65 lies short of their goal of 1,000.
According to the report, members of the White House began targeting Iraq immediately after the September 11 attacks, believing the former Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein had somehow been involved. But the administration lacked a key ingredient for going to war: evidence.
Bush convened his advisors and outlined options. While Secretary of State Colin Powell asked for the administration to gather evidence, Vice President Dick Cheney argued that if they waited too long, Hussein would have time to perfect his army of "flesh-eating flying zombie monkeys." The Vice President's argument convinced President Bush to authorize a secret initiative calling for 1,000 false statements that would support a war with Iraq by the fall of 2003. It received the code name, "Operation: Pants on Fire."
Using the Afghanistan operation as a cover, key administration officials underwent months of covert Straight-Face Training from the C.I.A. The training would allow the officials to deliver any statement, no matter how outlandish, without winking, crossed fingers, laughter, or swear-to-Gods. The training was almost a complete success.
"We never could quite get President Bush's smirk reflex under control," said one intelligence official who spoke under the condition of anonymity. "But once we realized he always smirks, we concluded it would be a dead giveaway if he didn’t smirk."
The study shows that the White House used a full arsenal of lies. It relied most frequently on STDs—Subtle Truth Distortions that could penetrate almost undetected and not be exposed until much later, such as discussing raw, unconfirmed intelligence as if it had been vetted and deemed factual. However, the administration occasionally deemed it necessary to launch much more powerful SHT (Super Hyperbole Transmissions) at the media, massive high-load deceptions designed to obscure their excessive implausibility by spreading clouds of ignorance and fear across a wide viewing area. This was a favorite tactic of the Vice President's office, where officials referred to the technique as "skull-f--king the facts."
One of the most obvious SHTs occurred when National Security Advisor Condoleezza Rice, after admitting there was "uncertainty" about Iraq’s possession of nuclear weapons, followed up by stating, "We don’t want the smoking gun to be a mushroom cloud." However, the largest SHT came from Secretary of State Powell’s presentation about mobile biological weapons labs at the United Nations, a delivery that nearly tripled previous levels of SHT delivered by the administration.
White House officials developed a number of even higher-yield deceptions that never made it past the prototype stage, most of which remain classified. One such statement, recently declassified through a Freedom of Information Act inquiry, showed that the President intended to declare in his 2003 State of the Union address that Saddam Hussein, "ate babies every day for breakfast," a statement designed to appeal to undecided soccer moms. However, the C.I.A. believed that Iraq would retaliate by releasing sensitive intelligence about Vice President Cheney's baby-eating activities. Instead, the President unleashed a smaller SHT about Iraq's attempts to purchase uranium from Niger.
While the White House set a goal of 1,000 lies, that number was later deemed unnecessary. One former White House official, who wished to remain anonymous but is most definitely not a former Secretary of Defense, illustrated the high level of discussions about how many lies they would need.
"We actually weren’t sure 1,000 lies would be enough. But then it only took 67 lies to get the Democrats on board, and most of the mainstream media stopped fighting around lie 279."
With all significant resistance subdued, some called for an end to Operation: Pants on Fire. But as the source explained, "It was so much fun we kept it going. We could have easily hit 1,000 if we wanted—hell, I've lied three times in the same sentence before. I could have gotten us the last 65 in a one-hour interview with Wolf Blitzer. But we ultimately decided to conserve some of our STDs and SHT until after the war started."
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Top Ten Tuesdays: How are we preparing for a recession?
Special extended layoffs edition!
15) Offering tax rebates in the form of scratch-off lottery tickets.
14) Assaulting real estate agent and mortgage broker so that we’ll have a place to live for the next 8-15 years.
13) Crossing border to seek new economic opportunities in Canada.
12) Selling excess children to science.
11) Replacing expensive toilet paper with worthless stock option certificates.
10) Traveling to Vegas to start a lucrative new act, imitating celebrities crapping their pants for money.
9) Conserving blog posts until we have something interesting to say.
8) Electroshocking Alan Greenspan’s testicles until he tells us how to get out of this and/or for getting us into this.
7) Cutting down heating bills by lighting selves on fire.
6) Auditioning for spot on Extreme Home Takeover.
5) Increasing size of investment portfolio by focusing on porn futures.
4) Creating cheap, homemade SUV hybrid by attaching a sail to the Hummer.
3) Two words: grad school.
2) Finding employment in the one booming sector left in America, the military.
1) Goodbye McMansion, hello McJob!
15) Offering tax rebates in the form of scratch-off lottery tickets.
14) Assaulting real estate agent and mortgage broker so that we’ll have a place to live for the next 8-15 years.
13) Crossing border to seek new economic opportunities in Canada.
12) Selling excess children to science.
11) Replacing expensive toilet paper with worthless stock option certificates.
10) Traveling to Vegas to start a lucrative new act, imitating celebrities crapping their pants for money.
9) Conserving blog posts until we have something interesting to say.
8) Electroshocking Alan Greenspan’s testicles until he tells us how to get out of this and/or for getting us into this.
7) Cutting down heating bills by lighting selves on fire.
6) Auditioning for spot on Extreme Home Takeover.
5) Increasing size of investment portfolio by focusing on porn futures.
4) Creating cheap, homemade SUV hybrid by attaching a sail to the Hummer.
3) Two words: grad school.
2) Finding employment in the one booming sector left in America, the military.
1) Goodbye McMansion, hello McJob!
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Name my child and win a prize*
I am crazy busy with work this week and have haven't had time to read blogs, let alone write on mine. However, The Lovely Becky has a contest for naming our forthcoming offspring, TBD. I want to give our child a good, Christian name. For instance, if we have a boy, I want to name him Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians. TLB isn't so hot on that, so much so that she's willing to let people looking for "dry humping jerk pants" name the child instead.
Random 11 may have to be postponed tomorrow but I will try to post if I can.
*Contest owners reserve right to define "win" and "prize."
Random 11 may have to be postponed tomorrow but I will try to post if I can.
*Contest owners reserve right to define "win" and "prize."
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Top Ten Tuesdays: What new shows are we pitching to Bravo?
Extra reality TV exemption from the writer's strike edition!
Story by: Jennifer
List by: Brando
12) Inside the Porn Actor’s Studio
11) Top Perkins Chef
10) Fleeing Bobby Brown
9) Make Me a Sears Catalog Lingerie Model
8) Lube, Oil & Unfiltered
7) Carson Kressley Exploits Every Gay Stereotype in the Universe and Invents Some New Ones
6) Hollywood Waxing
5) Get a (Key) Grip!
4) Real Housewives of Duluth Watch Real Housewives of Orange County
3) Kathy Griffin’s Celebrity Syphilis
2) Project Product Placement
1) Let's Make a 60-Minute Reality Show Out of Anything!
Story by: Jennifer
List by: Brando
12) Inside the Porn Actor’s Studio
11) Top Perkins Chef
10) Fleeing Bobby Brown
9) Make Me a Sears Catalog Lingerie Model
8) Lube, Oil & Unfiltered
7) Carson Kressley Exploits Every Gay Stereotype in the Universe and Invents Some New Ones
6) Hollywood Waxing
5) Get a (Key) Grip!
4) Real Housewives of Duluth Watch Real Housewives of Orange County
3) Kathy Griffin’s Celebrity Syphilis
2) Project Product Placement
1) Let's Make a 60-Minute Reality Show Out of Anything!
Friday, January 11, 2008
Friday CJ Random 11
It's one more random than 10!
There’s really nothing quite like using the Intertubes to find new and exciting ways to waste time. One of the guys at a message board (such a 1997 waste of time) I frequent posted this very funny meme for generating a band, album, and album cover:
1) The name of your band is the first article title on the Wikipedia Random Articles Page.
2) The title of the album is the last four words of the last quotation on the Random Quotations page.
3) The album cover is the third picture in Flickr’s Interesting Photos from the Last Seven Days.
Here are three I made. I’m really surprised at how believable the first and third are:
Just like you can write a song about anything, you can name a band or album after anything. Give it a shot, it's really fun. On to the tunes.
1) “A Dangerous Woman Up to a Point,” Destroyer. Perhaps a veiled Hillary Clinton reference? I kid, I kid. An odd but enjoyable song, with a kind of loungy soft rock feel with sing-speak lyrics. So, really, the opposite of Hillary Clinton.
2) “Muswell Hillbillies,” The Kinks. Classic. Since the song mentions the state, I will relate this true Brando fact: I am descended from hillbillies. The German namesake side of my family settled in West Virginia back before it even become West Virginia. It’s kind of like saying you came over on the Mayflower, except the Mayflower is on block pontoons and running a wind-generated moonshine still. My humble heritage would also be one of those annoying sound bites I would beat into the ground if I were running for president, the line I would use to show that I'm the kind of candidate you could have a glass of dangerous illegal alcohol with. When the elites who came over in the Mayflower try and put the working people of America down, I take pride in the words, “Ich bin ein West Virginia hillbilly.”
3) “Hey Fuck You,” Beastie Boys. I think if Mitt Romney adopted this as his campaign song, he’d be doing much better.
4) “Three Hours,” Nick Drake. After you’ve gotten all the “Hey Fuck You” out of your system, it’s easy to be Nick Drake for three hours.
5) “Faster Gun,” The Wrens. I have said it before but it bears repeating: if you like jangly guitar-based rock music, you really should own The Meadowlands. This track has a Pixie-ish beat with cryptic lyrics that are hard to hear, yet come at you with the mysterious attraction of a coded message from Little Orphan Annie (minus the commercial for Ovaltine part.)
6) “Teeth in the Grass,” Iron & Wine. A slithery folk song that’s like a snake in the grass. What The Wrens are to indie rock, Iron & Wine are to indie folk. I love the way he sings so softly, you have to practically lean into your speakers.
7) “Hard to Explain,” The Strokes. It’s hard to explain how the drumbeat in this song is made by a human and not a machine.
8) “Waitress in the Sky,” The Replacements. A not exactly NOW-friendly rant against airline attendants, from a group who I’m sure were absolutely nightmare passengers. I’m sure the attendant version would be “Talented Assholes in Row 12.”
9) “Brothers Gonna Work It Out,” Public Enemy. Still impressive how revolutionary this sounds. The mixture of eloquence and anger, the steady beat mixed with the chaotic samples floating in the background, and the perfect balance between Chuck D’s calls to action and Flava Flav’s chiming that lightens up the mood just a bit.
10) “Out Ta Get Me,” Guns N Roses. Still impressive how dangerous this sounds. It’s not easy staying edgy in a culture where you can’t even get a callback for the cast of Lost unless you have a police record. But this song works for the same reason Johnny Cash still works: it’s lived in, with a delivery that says I’m not fucking kidding, I’ve lived this. However, not dangerous: Axl's kicks in the video I linked to.
11) “La Villa Stangiato,” Rush. My favorite rock instrumental of all time. Ten minutes of time changes, bloopy synths, and a guitar solo that starts off quiet like it’s invited you in for tea before it melts your face off. In other words, full of all the things that made it difficult to get girls to like me. But I’m married now, so I get to play this and still have sex! And if I was running for office, that’s why I would explain we have to let gay people marry, because homosexuals deserve the right to torture their spouses with music they hate and still have conjugal relations. Ich bin ein Master Debater!
Have an awesome weekend.
There’s really nothing quite like using the Intertubes to find new and exciting ways to waste time. One of the guys at a message board (such a 1997 waste of time) I frequent posted this very funny meme for generating a band, album, and album cover:
1) The name of your band is the first article title on the Wikipedia Random Articles Page.
2) The title of the album is the last four words of the last quotation on the Random Quotations page.
3) The album cover is the third picture in Flickr’s Interesting Photos from the Last Seven Days.
Here are three I made. I’m really surprised at how believable the first and third are:
Just like you can write a song about anything, you can name a band or album after anything. Give it a shot, it's really fun. On to the tunes.
1) “A Dangerous Woman Up to a Point,” Destroyer. Perhaps a veiled Hillary Clinton reference? I kid, I kid. An odd but enjoyable song, with a kind of loungy soft rock feel with sing-speak lyrics. So, really, the opposite of Hillary Clinton.
2) “Muswell Hillbillies,” The Kinks. Classic. Since the song mentions the state, I will relate this true Brando fact: I am descended from hillbillies. The German namesake side of my family settled in West Virginia back before it even become West Virginia. It’s kind of like saying you came over on the Mayflower, except the Mayflower is on block pontoons and running a wind-generated moonshine still. My humble heritage would also be one of those annoying sound bites I would beat into the ground if I were running for president, the line I would use to show that I'm the kind of candidate you could have a glass of dangerous illegal alcohol with. When the elites who came over in the Mayflower try and put the working people of America down, I take pride in the words, “Ich bin ein West Virginia hillbilly.”
3) “Hey Fuck You,” Beastie Boys. I think if Mitt Romney adopted this as his campaign song, he’d be doing much better.
4) “Three Hours,” Nick Drake. After you’ve gotten all the “Hey Fuck You” out of your system, it’s easy to be Nick Drake for three hours.
5) “Faster Gun,” The Wrens. I have said it before but it bears repeating: if you like jangly guitar-based rock music, you really should own The Meadowlands. This track has a Pixie-ish beat with cryptic lyrics that are hard to hear, yet come at you with the mysterious attraction of a coded message from Little Orphan Annie (minus the commercial for Ovaltine part.)
6) “Teeth in the Grass,” Iron & Wine. A slithery folk song that’s like a snake in the grass. What The Wrens are to indie rock, Iron & Wine are to indie folk. I love the way he sings so softly, you have to practically lean into your speakers.
7) “Hard to Explain,” The Strokes. It’s hard to explain how the drumbeat in this song is made by a human and not a machine.
8) “Waitress in the Sky,” The Replacements. A not exactly NOW-friendly rant against airline attendants, from a group who I’m sure were absolutely nightmare passengers. I’m sure the attendant version would be “Talented Assholes in Row 12.”
9) “Brothers Gonna Work It Out,” Public Enemy. Still impressive how revolutionary this sounds. The mixture of eloquence and anger, the steady beat mixed with the chaotic samples floating in the background, and the perfect balance between Chuck D’s calls to action and Flava Flav’s chiming that lightens up the mood just a bit.
10) “Out Ta Get Me,” Guns N Roses. Still impressive how dangerous this sounds. It’s not easy staying edgy in a culture where you can’t even get a callback for the cast of Lost unless you have a police record. But this song works for the same reason Johnny Cash still works: it’s lived in, with a delivery that says I’m not fucking kidding, I’ve lived this. However, not dangerous: Axl's kicks in the video I linked to.
11) “La Villa Stangiato,” Rush. My favorite rock instrumental of all time. Ten minutes of time changes, bloopy synths, and a guitar solo that starts off quiet like it’s invited you in for tea before it melts your face off. In other words, full of all the things that made it difficult to get girls to like me. But I’m married now, so I get to play this and still have sex! And if I was running for office, that’s why I would explain we have to let gay people marry, because homosexuals deserve the right to torture their spouses with music they hate and still have conjugal relations. Ich bin ein Master Debater!
Have an awesome weekend.
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
O-Bama Beret
Over at The Republic of Dogs (now with a new and improved Wordpress flea collar), Res Publica was talking about Obama's New Hampshire speech:
And maybe that's true. But then again, maybe it means Obama is just singing the catchiest political pop song since Bill Clinton's, "Let's Go Crazy (For This Centrist Agenda)." It's certainly much better than George W. Bush's "U Will Die 4 Me."
Here's what I think: Obama is the "Raspberry Beret "of the 2008 elections. You're not really sure what it's about, but it sounds great and makes you want to dance. Those blah-blah-blahs are really la-la-las. And what great pop song doesn't repeat its chorus over and over and over again?
That inspired me to write the following song about Obama.
(The Song Remains About) Change
Come stand with me for change
la la la la-la
and join the people on the range
la la la la-la
Who’ve become quite estranged
la la la la-la
with the policies of the deranged
la-la la la-la la la la
CHORUS
I am still fired up and ready to go
From my Iowa win and my NH show
Forget my words and just feel the flow
Cause you’re the grass roots and I’m Miracle-Gro
I don’t scream at all like Howard Dean
la la la la-la
and I'm black but don’t use Afro sheen
la la la la-la
Now even I don’t know what I mean
la la la la-la
But I’m still the best candidate you’ve ever seen
la-la la la-la la la la
CHORUS x 357
I know there are some A&R bloggers out there interested in signing me, but I already have a lifelong recording deal with TLB Matrimoniacals, Inc. The contract is ironclad, I have total artistic freedom, and the groupies are to die for.
Still an amazing speaker. I still have no idea what he’s talking about. But it sounds great. I could listen to that shit all week, and I say that without any sarcasm.This led to some discussion that while Obama has a great beat, people weren't sure about his lyrics. As Res put it, it's all blah blah change blah hope.
And maybe that's true. But then again, maybe it means Obama is just singing the catchiest political pop song since Bill Clinton's, "Let's Go Crazy (For This Centrist Agenda)." It's certainly much better than George W. Bush's "U Will Die 4 Me."
Here's what I think: Obama is the "Raspberry Beret "of the 2008 elections. You're not really sure what it's about, but it sounds great and makes you want to dance. Those blah-blah-blahs are really la-la-las. And what great pop song doesn't repeat its chorus over and over and over again?
That inspired me to write the following song about Obama.
(The Song Remains About) Change
Come stand with me for change
la la la la-la
and join the people on the range
la la la la-la
Who’ve become quite estranged
la la la la-la
with the policies of the deranged
la-la la la-la la la la
CHORUS
I am still fired up and ready to go
From my Iowa win and my NH show
Forget my words and just feel the flow
Cause you’re the grass roots and I’m Miracle-Gro
I don’t scream at all like Howard Dean
la la la la-la
and I'm black but don’t use Afro sheen
la la la la-la
Now even I don’t know what I mean
la la la la-la
But I’m still the best candidate you’ve ever seen
la-la la la-la la la la
CHORUS x 357
I know there are some A&R bloggers out there interested in signing me, but I already have a lifelong recording deal with TLB Matrimoniacals, Inc. The contract is ironclad, I have total artistic freedom, and the groupies are to die for.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Best first lines
The Lovely Becky is asking for people to post their favorite first lines from books over on her blog. It's for edumactional purposes. Stop on by and look smart by quoting some literature to the professor.
I would leave something but I'm sadly illiterate. I write by smell.
I would leave something but I'm sadly illiterate. I write by smell.
Top Ten Tuesdays: Why are we choosing our candidates?
Special extra desperate negative campaigning edition!
12) Going with what the Magic 8-Ball said.
11) Seems like a guy we could have a beer with, unlike that other asshole we thought we could have a beer with back in 2000.
10) Only name recognized was the guy who was on TV, on that show, the one with the crimes.
9) Well, I was going to stand for this one fella, but then Floyd said if I did that, I was dumber than a sack of pig poop, and I thought that was a pretty convincing argument, so I stood for the other fella.
8) Like a candidate who has the conviction to stare a mountain of scientific evidence in the eye and say, “I’m sticking with Genesis.”
7) Really seemed like he was for change, which resonated with us because we’re homeless.
6) Want a candidate who understands the plight of the rich lawyer with a guilty conscience.
5) Love the way he talks tough out of both sides of his mouth.
4) Can use his magical pixie powers to make federal deficit disappear in his pocket.
3) Believe it is time to put someone with breasts in the White House, and Huckabee’s out since he lost all that weight.
2) Uh, 9/11? Anyone? No?
1) Picking the one with the hottest ass.
12) Going with what the Magic 8-Ball said.
11) Seems like a guy we could have a beer with, unlike that other asshole we thought we could have a beer with back in 2000.
10) Only name recognized was the guy who was on TV, on that show, the one with the crimes.
9) Well, I was going to stand for this one fella, but then Floyd said if I did that, I was dumber than a sack of pig poop, and I thought that was a pretty convincing argument, so I stood for the other fella.
8) Like a candidate who has the conviction to stare a mountain of scientific evidence in the eye and say, “I’m sticking with Genesis.”
7) Really seemed like he was for change, which resonated with us because we’re homeless.
6) Want a candidate who understands the plight of the rich lawyer with a guilty conscience.
5) Love the way he talks tough out of both sides of his mouth.
4) Can use his magical pixie powers to make federal deficit disappear in his pocket.
3) Believe it is time to put someone with breasts in the White House, and Huckabee’s out since he lost all that weight.
2) Uh, 9/11? Anyone? No?
1) Picking the one with the hottest ass.
Friday, January 04, 2008
Friday CJ Random 11
It's one more random than 10!
Well, the Iowa Caucus has cocked up the 2008 Election conventional wisdom. This will certainly give the pundits plenty to talk about. I imagine Wolf Blitzer's whiskers will be in full Viagra mode during The Situation Room today.
I have to say I was surprised by the results. On the Republican side, Huckabee seems to be turning into the GOP Jimmy Carter, the outsider who shakes things up. He has a long way to go and I think he'll fade eventually, but stranger things have happened (see "Primates, election of 2000 and"). I wish The Colbert Report was back on TV because you know Colbert would be taking credit for Huckabee's "Colbert bump."
Obama winning the Democratic caucus isn't as surprising to me. He's had a lot of supporters doing grass roots work in Iowa, and he has arguably the most charisma of any candidate from either side. But Clinton finishing behind Edwards, even if it was by just a small amount, did surprise me. It's going to be an interesting few days before the New Hampshire primary.
I'm Brando and I approved this message. I also approve of the following songs:
1) "Relative Ways," …And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead. The sun is making a cameo appearance today after being overcast since, I don't know, November, and this song is a perfect fit. Chiming guitars and a sunny beat with some throaty vocals to add a little conflict. Everything's always more interesting with conflict.
2) "Radar Gun," Bottle Rockets. You Can Write a Rock Song About Anything I. This is a catchy little ditty about a cop with his new radar gun. Seriously, that's all there is to it. The b-side would probably be "Stop Yer Jaywalkin' (All Over My Heart)."
3) "Ohio (Live)," Neil Young. From the amazing Live at Massey Hall album. Ol' Neil Young delivers an absolutely chilling, stripped-down version of this on an acoustic guitar. One of the best political songs ever written, so good I have no snark.
4) "Amerika V. 6.0," Steve Earle. You want to catch my attention, start off a song with a huge drum beat like this song does. This is pretty standard Steve Earle, with a dirty guitar lick escorting lyrics about being broke, being mad, and being screwed over. I even dig the retro America with a K, even if that is so 1992.
5) "Accidental Babies," Damien Rice. I do a cover version of this called "Totally on Purpose Babies."
6) "Allure," Jay-Z. Welcome to Yo, CJSD Raps! I'm your host, Beaty B. Seriously, here's what gets me about Jay-Z: he makes me feel out of touch. Iwaste my time pride myself on staying on top of what the kids are listening to, but recently in an e-mail exchange with my brother and some other guys in their late 20s, we got on the subject of biggest artists of the last 20 years. They all agreed Jay-Z was one of them. And the only reason I even know any Jay-Z songs is because I have a copy of Danger Mouse's The Grey Album, which I like better than this because it sets Jay-Z's lyrics to samples from The Beatles' White Album. So I am feeling pretty white and Dockers-ish right now.
7) "Satan Gave Me a Taco," Beck. You Can Write a Rock Song About Anything II. Beck singing a Soggy Bottom Boys-style song about getting a crappy taco before dissolving into what seems to be a food-poisoning inspired rock fantasy of going on tour. It's actually inspiring me to get back to my concept album, In the Blog of the Comment King. The album tells the story of a pale, proscrastinating, and sarcastic boy who sets out on a mystical adventure to leave the greatest blog comment EVAR!
8) "Little Fat Baby," Sparklehorse. Just a really nice, mellow song. Since I have nothing else to say about it, I'll mention that the birth weight of my youngest brother, Snake Anthony, came up in an e-mail today. He was 11½ pounds when he was born, and he had the melon of a six-year old. He was so big and mature-looking that when my mother brought him home, he was smoking and in dire need of a shave.
9) "It's a Curse," Wolf Parade. Now that I'm hopelessly addicted to playing toy drums in my living room, I'm hearing/seeing beats when I hear songs that would be a perfect fit for Rock Band. Wolf Parade are great Rock Band candidates. This song has a big meaty beat that I could probably manage to thwack out, with a few fills to keep things interesting without me kicking over the kit in frustration.
10) "Since U Been Gone," Kelly Clarkson. I get in arguments all the time about this song. TLB makes fun of me because I actually purchased this on iTunes. When I met Adorable Girlfriend, the Uncanny Canadian, Chuckles, and Officer Gleason in Chicago over the summer, we actually got into a spirited discussion of whether this song sucked, with OG and I forming a "this song rocks" bloc. So here's my theory: This song is Hillary Clinton. Because it's Kelly Clarkson and American Idol, people will hate it no matter what. But take the same song and give it to Dave Grohl or Ted Leo and people go, "Wow, that's a pretty good song."
11) "So It Goes," Nick Lowe. What Annoys Me About America, Part MCMXXVI. When this album came out in the UK in the late 70s, it was called Jesus of Cool. But You-Know-Who forbid we crucify our Lord again by putting his name on a rock and/or roll record. So in the US the name was changed to Pure Pop for Now People. The plus side is that the name change didn't dilute this absolute pure pop gem of a song, and it also gave us a pretty awesome album cover. The truth is, though, that I think our nation is still so uptight that 30 years later, this album would still get a name change. If anything comes of the 2008 election, I hope it results in the pole at least being tugged a little bit out of our national ass. Can't we all just relax and rock out together?
Have a good weekend.
Well, the Iowa Caucus has cocked up the 2008 Election conventional wisdom. This will certainly give the pundits plenty to talk about. I imagine Wolf Blitzer's whiskers will be in full Viagra mode during The Situation Room today.
I have to say I was surprised by the results. On the Republican side, Huckabee seems to be turning into the GOP Jimmy Carter, the outsider who shakes things up. He has a long way to go and I think he'll fade eventually, but stranger things have happened (see "Primates, election of 2000 and"). I wish The Colbert Report was back on TV because you know Colbert would be taking credit for Huckabee's "Colbert bump."
Obama winning the Democratic caucus isn't as surprising to me. He's had a lot of supporters doing grass roots work in Iowa, and he has arguably the most charisma of any candidate from either side. But Clinton finishing behind Edwards, even if it was by just a small amount, did surprise me. It's going to be an interesting few days before the New Hampshire primary.
I'm Brando and I approved this message. I also approve of the following songs:
1) "Relative Ways," …And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead. The sun is making a cameo appearance today after being overcast since, I don't know, November, and this song is a perfect fit. Chiming guitars and a sunny beat with some throaty vocals to add a little conflict. Everything's always more interesting with conflict.
2) "Radar Gun," Bottle Rockets. You Can Write a Rock Song About Anything I. This is a catchy little ditty about a cop with his new radar gun. Seriously, that's all there is to it. The b-side would probably be "Stop Yer Jaywalkin' (All Over My Heart)."
3) "Ohio (Live)," Neil Young. From the amazing Live at Massey Hall album. Ol' Neil Young delivers an absolutely chilling, stripped-down version of this on an acoustic guitar. One of the best political songs ever written, so good I have no snark.
4) "Amerika V. 6.0," Steve Earle. You want to catch my attention, start off a song with a huge drum beat like this song does. This is pretty standard Steve Earle, with a dirty guitar lick escorting lyrics about being broke, being mad, and being screwed over. I even dig the retro America with a K, even if that is so 1992.
5) "Accidental Babies," Damien Rice. I do a cover version of this called "Totally on Purpose Babies."
6) "Allure," Jay-Z. Welcome to Yo, CJSD Raps! I'm your host, Beaty B. Seriously, here's what gets me about Jay-Z: he makes me feel out of touch. I
7) "Satan Gave Me a Taco," Beck. You Can Write a Rock Song About Anything II. Beck singing a Soggy Bottom Boys-style song about getting a crappy taco before dissolving into what seems to be a food-poisoning inspired rock fantasy of going on tour. It's actually inspiring me to get back to my concept album, In the Blog of the Comment King. The album tells the story of a pale, proscrastinating, and sarcastic boy who sets out on a mystical adventure to leave the greatest blog comment EVAR!
8) "Little Fat Baby," Sparklehorse. Just a really nice, mellow song. Since I have nothing else to say about it, I'll mention that the birth weight of my youngest brother, Snake Anthony, came up in an e-mail today. He was 11½ pounds when he was born, and he had the melon of a six-year old. He was so big and mature-looking that when my mother brought him home, he was smoking and in dire need of a shave.
9) "It's a Curse," Wolf Parade. Now that I'm hopelessly addicted to playing toy drums in my living room, I'm hearing/seeing beats when I hear songs that would be a perfect fit for Rock Band. Wolf Parade are great Rock Band candidates. This song has a big meaty beat that I could probably manage to thwack out, with a few fills to keep things interesting without me kicking over the kit in frustration.
10) "Since U Been Gone," Kelly Clarkson. I get in arguments all the time about this song. TLB makes fun of me because I actually purchased this on iTunes. When I met Adorable Girlfriend, the Uncanny Canadian, Chuckles, and Officer Gleason in Chicago over the summer, we actually got into a spirited discussion of whether this song sucked, with OG and I forming a "this song rocks" bloc. So here's my theory: This song is Hillary Clinton. Because it's Kelly Clarkson and American Idol, people will hate it no matter what. But take the same song and give it to Dave Grohl or Ted Leo and people go, "Wow, that's a pretty good song."
11) "So It Goes," Nick Lowe. What Annoys Me About America, Part MCMXXVI. When this album came out in the UK in the late 70s, it was called Jesus of Cool. But You-Know-Who forbid we crucify our Lord again by putting his name on a rock and/or roll record. So in the US the name was changed to Pure Pop for Now People. The plus side is that the name change didn't dilute this absolute pure pop gem of a song, and it also gave us a pretty awesome album cover. The truth is, though, that I think our nation is still so uptight that 30 years later, this album would still get a name change. If anything comes of the 2008 election, I hope it results in the pole at least being tugged a little bit out of our national ass. Can't we all just relax and rock out together?
Have a good weekend.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Behind the Rock Band
I: Overture
I have always been fascinated by the drums. I wanted to play them when I was a teenager, but economics and the confines of sharing small houses with five other family members made that impossible. So when I heard that a game called Rock Band was coming out, and that it would do for drums what Guitar Hero did for guitar, I had to have it.
For months, I dropped hints to my wife, The Lovely Becky. She would always shake her head and give me her best how old are you look. But she never said no.
One day, while shopping with her at Target, I spied the box on the shelves. It was big, bulky, and geeky. I saw my chance to tell Santa what I really wanted.
Pictured: Rock Band Bundle
Optional ridicule included
"Hey look," I said with trembling nonchalance. "They have Rock Band in stock. Huh, I thought those would be all sold out."
The Lovely Becky let out a sigh, a long breath that signaled her acceptance that resistance would be futile. "Is that what you really want?"
"Yes."
"I was going to get it for you. You don't mind if you're not surprised?"
"No!" Several dogs howled at the sound of my squeaking excitement.
"Put it in the cart. But you can't open it until Christmas."
II: Father Christmas, Give Us Your Game Peripherals
I waited and waited. And after Christmas, waited some more, until we could return home to the Xbox and I could play the game. The Lovely Becky sat on the couch and watched me open it up. "Can I play it?"
She rested for four full measures before agreeing. "Go ahead."
Rock Band includes a guitar and microphone, too, but I was all about the rhythm stick. I set up the drums.
Pictured: Rock Band drums
Rhythm not included
I hooked everything up, plugging the kit into the USB port on my Xbox. I created a drummer character, Branimal, a bearded, red-headed skin basher who would rock me to the top.
Pictured: Character creation in Rock Band
Spouse's loss of sexual attraction included
The game loaded and I selected Weezer's "Say It Ain't So," the easiest song to start with. I played the easy level, getting the hang of the bass pedal and finishing the song without too much trouble. At one point, when I was doing well, the virtual crowd started singing the song back. It was more invigorating than a grown man should admit.
"You have no idea how much happiness this is going to bring me," I told my wife.
"Actually, I think I do," she said, shaking her head.
III: I Want to Rock n Roll All Nite, and Play Xbox Every Day
Nietzsche once wrote of man's eternal struggle with rocking, "Don't need nothing but a good time. How can I resist?" And indeed, how could I resist? I was having more fun than I had ever had with a video game. I bumped up the difficulty on the drums and rocked out with a fierce competence somewhere between Micky Dolenz and Meg White. I passed song after song, crossing cities and venues and genres as I played "Wanted Dead or Alive" in Chicago, "Gimme Shelter" in New York, "Epic" in Boston, "Blitzkrieg Bop" in L.A., and "Paranoid" in Seattle.
The crowds roared. I acquired money, fame, prestige—or I should say that Branimal acquired these things. Truthfully, our personalities were beginning to merge, much like Garth Brooks and Chris Gaines. I began living the Rock Band lifestyle, partying between gigs. The whole experience was intoxicating.
Pictured: Branimal with his "rhythm juice"
IV: Welcome to the Boss Level, Baby, You're Gonna Die
I had it all. I was playing—actually doing something the mimicked the drums. I nailed the songs one after another, getting four and five star ratings with ease. My rise was meteoric. I was at around minute 27 of my own Behind the Music special. But little did I know there were a dark 33 minutes to go.
I kept playing more and more. The songs became more complex. The pressure to do well mounted. I needed a little something to take the edge off.
Pictured: White Thunder chasing white lightning
Paranoia included
Then in Stockholm, it happened. I took on "The Electric Version" by The New Pornographers. The off-kilter rhythm and complexity took me by surprise. I made it halfway through before, amid the hostile Viking boos of Swedes, I failed the song. The music went dead and I was left dejected.
I went into practice mode, slowed the beat down, and figured it out. I returned to the stage and gave it my all. Yet I managed a paltry three stars, a mediocrity that sent me into a Grand Funk, especially after I saw this guy dominating a Metallica song on Expert. Would I ever be that good?
V: The USB Port and the Damage Done
I managed to get through the other Stockholm gigs, except one, the final song: "Green Grass and High Tides," by The Outlaws, a Freebird-esque southern rock stomp that was as long and difficult as the Iraqi occupation. The last extended solo, when the drums kicked into overdrive with a rhythm I couldn't keep up with, beat me down in 4/4 time. I retreated to my couch and tried to find some concoction that would make the notes slow down and my foot speed up. But nothing worked. Every time I hit that second solo, I failed. Soon I didn't even care about trying. I just wanted to make the pain go away. I hit Rock Band bottom.
Pictured: The unlocked Keith Moon level
Rehab not included
VI: Baby, We Were Born to Restart
I was strung out, hung up, upside down and inside out. Is this what I had wanted during that fateful stroll through Target? No, I just wanted to play along with my favorite songs and have a few laughs. Instead I was lost in a world of high scores and five-star ratings and unlocking that next level. I had forgotten that Rock Band is about the music. It was an epiphany, like when KISS put their make up back on and stopped playing every song they recorded after Destroyer.
So I have a new lease on life. I quit chasing perfection and let Rock Band be a game. I do the best I can, and if that doesn't work, I just try again later. I even gave singing a shot, making a new characternamed Branzig. I even did okay on the vocals. Most of all, I had fun, which is what Rock Band is all about.
Just be careful, because this game is so fun, it's like crack.
No bloggers were harmed in the making of this post. Some events have been dramatized to make them seem more rocking and less dorky than banging on plastic drums in front of your cats and God. All drug paraphernalia is legally purchased and not used for anything at all unsordid (honest, I have the prescriptions!). Branimal is the legally created nickname coined by my brother Tickle during a poker game where I was playing with uncharacteristic aggression. This post was made possible by the TLB Foundation, dedicated to giving husbands with Peter Pan complexes a chance to live their nerdy ass dreams. It's the best foundation in the world.
I have always been fascinated by the drums. I wanted to play them when I was a teenager, but economics and the confines of sharing small houses with five other family members made that impossible. So when I heard that a game called Rock Band was coming out, and that it would do for drums what Guitar Hero did for guitar, I had to have it.
For months, I dropped hints to my wife, The Lovely Becky. She would always shake her head and give me her best how old are you look. But she never said no.
One day, while shopping with her at Target, I spied the box on the shelves. It was big, bulky, and geeky. I saw my chance to tell Santa what I really wanted.
Pictured: Rock Band BundleOptional ridicule included
"Hey look," I said with trembling nonchalance. "They have Rock Band in stock. Huh, I thought those would be all sold out."
The Lovely Becky let out a sigh, a long breath that signaled her acceptance that resistance would be futile. "Is that what you really want?"
"Yes."
"I was going to get it for you. You don't mind if you're not surprised?"
"No!" Several dogs howled at the sound of my squeaking excitement.
"Put it in the cart. But you can't open it until Christmas."
II: Father Christmas, Give Us Your Game Peripherals
I waited and waited. And after Christmas, waited some more, until we could return home to the Xbox and I could play the game. The Lovely Becky sat on the couch and watched me open it up. "Can I play it?"
She rested for four full measures before agreeing. "Go ahead."
Rock Band includes a guitar and microphone, too, but I was all about the rhythm stick. I set up the drums.
Pictured: Rock Band drumsRhythm not included
I hooked everything up, plugging the kit into the USB port on my Xbox. I created a drummer character, Branimal, a bearded, red-headed skin basher who would rock me to the top.
Pictured: Character creation in Rock BandSpouse's loss of sexual attraction included
The game loaded and I selected Weezer's "Say It Ain't So," the easiest song to start with. I played the easy level, getting the hang of the bass pedal and finishing the song without too much trouble. At one point, when I was doing well, the virtual crowd started singing the song back. It was more invigorating than a grown man should admit.
"You have no idea how much happiness this is going to bring me," I told my wife.
"Actually, I think I do," she said, shaking her head.
III: I Want to Rock n Roll All Nite, and Play Xbox Every Day
Nietzsche once wrote of man's eternal struggle with rocking, "Don't need nothing but a good time. How can I resist?" And indeed, how could I resist? I was having more fun than I had ever had with a video game. I bumped up the difficulty on the drums and rocked out with a fierce competence somewhere between Micky Dolenz and Meg White. I passed song after song, crossing cities and venues and genres as I played "Wanted Dead or Alive" in Chicago, "Gimme Shelter" in New York, "Epic" in Boston, "Blitzkrieg Bop" in L.A., and "Paranoid" in Seattle.
The crowds roared. I acquired money, fame, prestige—or I should say that Branimal acquired these things. Truthfully, our personalities were beginning to merge, much like Garth Brooks and Chris Gaines. I began living the Rock Band lifestyle, partying between gigs. The whole experience was intoxicating.
Pictured: Branimal with his "rhythm juice"Hangover included
IV: Welcome to the Boss Level, Baby, You're Gonna Die
I had it all. I was playing—actually doing something the mimicked the drums. I nailed the songs one after another, getting four and five star ratings with ease. My rise was meteoric. I was at around minute 27 of my own Behind the Music special. But little did I know there were a dark 33 minutes to go.
I kept playing more and more. The songs became more complex. The pressure to do well mounted. I needed a little something to take the edge off.
Pictured: White Thunder chasing white lightningParanoia included
Then in Stockholm, it happened. I took on "The Electric Version" by The New Pornographers. The off-kilter rhythm and complexity took me by surprise. I made it halfway through before, amid the hostile Viking boos of Swedes, I failed the song. The music went dead and I was left dejected.
I went into practice mode, slowed the beat down, and figured it out. I returned to the stage and gave it my all. Yet I managed a paltry three stars, a mediocrity that sent me into a Grand Funk, especially after I saw this guy dominating a Metallica song on Expert. Would I ever be that good?
V: The USB Port and the Damage Done
I managed to get through the other Stockholm gigs, except one, the final song: "Green Grass and High Tides," by The Outlaws, a Freebird-esque southern rock stomp that was as long and difficult as the Iraqi occupation. The last extended solo, when the drums kicked into overdrive with a rhythm I couldn't keep up with, beat me down in 4/4 time. I retreated to my couch and tried to find some concoction that would make the notes slow down and my foot speed up. But nothing worked. Every time I hit that second solo, I failed. Soon I didn't even care about trying. I just wanted to make the pain go away. I hit Rock Band bottom.
Pictured: The unlocked Keith Moon levelRehab not included
VI: Baby, We Were Born to Restart
I was strung out, hung up, upside down and inside out. Is this what I had wanted during that fateful stroll through Target? No, I just wanted to play along with my favorite songs and have a few laughs. Instead I was lost in a world of high scores and five-star ratings and unlocking that next level. I had forgotten that Rock Band is about the music. It was an epiphany, like when KISS put their make up back on and stopped playing every song they recorded after Destroyer.
So I have a new lease on life. I quit chasing perfection and let Rock Band be a game. I do the best I can, and if that doesn't work, I just try again later. I even gave singing a shot, making a new characternamed Branzig. I even did okay on the vocals. Most of all, I had fun, which is what Rock Band is all about.
Just be careful, because this game is so fun, it's like crack.
No bloggers were harmed in the making of this post. Some events have been dramatized to make them seem more rocking and less dorky than banging on plastic drums in front of your cats and God. All drug paraphernalia is legally purchased and not used for anything at all unsordid (honest, I have the prescriptions!). Branimal is the legally created nickname coined by my brother Tickle during a poker game where I was playing with uncharacteristic aggression. This post was made possible by the TLB Foundation, dedicated to giving husbands with Peter Pan complexes a chance to live their nerdy ass dreams. It's the best foundation in the world.
Tuesday, January 01, 2008
Top Ten Tuesdays: What resolutions are we making?
Special extra effort edition!
14) Require proper foot signals and two forms of ID before reaching under stall.
13) Switch gambling efforts to the legal, less offensive sport of banana slug fighting.
12) Make sure to put a pin on the map every time we dump a body.
11) Remember that we blow the breathalyzer and talk to the officer.
10) Send a dominatrix, an Irish Wolfhound in heat, a bag of meth, and a fleet of paparazzi to Perez Hilton's house.
9) Start new Do You Have a Problem With Me and My 9mm Eating This Bag of Mallomars Diet.
8) Let the children know we're going to keep drinking until they stop disappointing us.
7) Construct new missile shield using destructive high-pitched shrieks of Hannah Montana fans.
6) Stop smoking so much….uh…um…man, I know this…that stuff we put in the bong….
5) Finish fall-out shelter soon.
4) Triple the number of robot political calls, because nothing excites voters more than being interrupted six times a day by the disembodied platitudes of your candidate.
3) Return baseball to its good, clean roots of spitballs, corked bats, and throwing games for money.
2) Remove words like assface, jizz mopper, and shit-flinging monkey fucker from our vocabulary before the baby arrives.
1) Keep researching our novel about procrastination.
Have a very Happy New Year. Only thirteen more months before the source of most of my jokes leaves office!
14) Require proper foot signals and two forms of ID before reaching under stall.
13) Switch gambling efforts to the legal, less offensive sport of banana slug fighting.
12) Make sure to put a pin on the map every time we dump a body.
11) Remember that we blow the breathalyzer and talk to the officer.
10) Send a dominatrix, an Irish Wolfhound in heat, a bag of meth, and a fleet of paparazzi to Perez Hilton's house.
9) Start new Do You Have a Problem With Me and My 9mm Eating This Bag of Mallomars Diet.
8) Let the children know we're going to keep drinking until they stop disappointing us.
7) Construct new missile shield using destructive high-pitched shrieks of Hannah Montana fans.
6) Stop smoking so much….uh…um…man, I know this…that stuff we put in the bong….
5) Finish fall-out shelter soon.
4) Triple the number of robot political calls, because nothing excites voters more than being interrupted six times a day by the disembodied platitudes of your candidate.
3) Return baseball to its good, clean roots of spitballs, corked bats, and throwing games for money.
2) Remove words like assface, jizz mopper, and shit-flinging monkey fucker from our vocabulary before the baby arrives.
1) Keep researching our novel about procrastination.
Have a very Happy New Year. Only thirteen more months before the source of most of my jokes leaves office!
Friday, December 28, 2007
Friday CJ Random 11
It's one more random than 10!
The Lovely Becky and I had our first doctor's appointment yesterday. It was the first appointment since the scare-me-shitless incident, and it also came at the end of the first trimester. That means we're at the point where you might notice stuff about little TBD, stuff that could be bad.
The doctor set up the ultrasound, and there was TBD on the screen. I have to admit, it looked more Rorschach than human at first, until we saw the spine and the heart and the head. "Everything looks healthy and normal," said the doctor. I have never been so happy to hear the word "normal." And I know when TBD gets to be a teenager, we'll hear about how s/he needs the right clothes/shoes/hair dye/piercing to be an individual, but right now, I want TBD to be just like all the other normal babies.
Anyway, I want to say thank you to everyone for their support over the years—new virtual friends as well as old fashioned bricks-and-mortar friends. You have no idea how much your words and deeds have helped. I know we're not out of the woods, but I at least feel like I have a map and the Blair Witch is no longer leaving bundled sticks outside my tent. Now let's write about some tunes.
1) "Waiting for the 7.18," Bloc Party. It's odd to hear songs about office life now that my commute consists of climbing a flight of stairs and it's impossible to have good water cooler conversations with cats. I dig this song because, even though the lyrics are a little cloying—making a couplet with "sudoku" is never a good idea—it's a big song, designed to reach the back of the stadium. I like that some bands still try to write those kinds of songs. Does anyone remember grandeur?
2) "Bad Light," Built to Spill. I miss guitar heroics, too, which were unfortunately strip- mined in the 80s by leather-pants-clad cobags playing hammer-ons before they could learn to drive. Built to Spill bring the taste back to guitar heroics, stacking layers of riffs and melodies on top of each other, but without ever sacrificing the song for flash.
3) "Don't Get Excited," Graham Parker. An oldie that I recently discovered and wonder how I missed this. He manages to out-Elvis Costello Elvis Costello. Catchy, angryish new wave with great riffs and clever, often sarcastic lyrics. Also known as "my cup of tea."
4) "Lipstick Sunset (Live)," John Hiatt. Fellas, if you need a good song to set the mood with your lady, this is a great choice. Hiatt croons some romantic lyrics over a slow, but not too slow, beat. The perfect road trip song for the journey from the living room to the bedroom.
5) "The Hammer," Motorhead. Also a great romantic choice if you're dating Gina from The 40-Year Old Virgin. Amusing Motorhead aside: Freshman year of college, I had to take a composition course. Our teacher, one of the grad students, used to wear a complete preppy outfit of penny loafers, Levi's, and a tweed jacket, but added a Motorhead t-shirt to the mix. At the time I thought he was a tool, but I realize now he was also an irony pioneer.
6) "Prison Sex," Tool. Perfect for setting the mood if you're incarcerated. Hey, Mad Dog, they're playing our song! Will you walk me to my cell? This is the only album I ever bought because of a music video.
7) "Good Luck," Basement Jaxx. Danceflooricious.
8) "For All the Cows," Foo Fighters. I loved the first Foo Fighters album because of songs like this, but never got into their other albums after that. However, I hope Dave Grohl continues to be popular, because he gets what it means to be a rock star. He's completely dedicated and passionate and yet doesn't take himself too seriously.
9) "Perfect Circle," R.E.M. At the other end of the serious spectrum. Michael Stipe ruined R.E.M. for me, as much as he made me like them in the first place. Has he smiled since Out of Time came out? It's not like I want musicians to be Lenny Bruce necessarily, but you play rock music for a living. Pull the microphone pole out and loosen up a bit.
10) "Dog Eat Dog," AC/DC. I remember seeing an interview with baseball steroid gladiator Jason Giambi, back when he was an emerging star instead of a state's witness. He was wearing a hat that read, "Drive it like you stole it." That's how AC/DC played music before Bon Scott choked to death, like they had been given the keys to a Ferrari and they had better floor it to 150 before someone realized who was behind the wheel. That's also why I always crank early AC/DC to 11.
11) "Jail Guitar Doors," The Clash. Songs like this are why the first Clash album is on my desert island list.
The Lovely Becky bought me this for Christmas, and there will be some serious dork blogging about it later this weekend. Until then, have a good one.
The Lovely Becky and I had our first doctor's appointment yesterday. It was the first appointment since the scare-me-shitless incident, and it also came at the end of the first trimester. That means we're at the point where you might notice stuff about little TBD, stuff that could be bad.
The doctor set up the ultrasound, and there was TBD on the screen. I have to admit, it looked more Rorschach than human at first, until we saw the spine and the heart and the head. "Everything looks healthy and normal," said the doctor. I have never been so happy to hear the word "normal." And I know when TBD gets to be a teenager, we'll hear about how s/he needs the right clothes/shoes/hair dye/piercing to be an individual, but right now, I want TBD to be just like all the other normal babies.
Anyway, I want to say thank you to everyone for their support over the years—new virtual friends as well as old fashioned bricks-and-mortar friends. You have no idea how much your words and deeds have helped. I know we're not out of the woods, but I at least feel like I have a map and the Blair Witch is no longer leaving bundled sticks outside my tent. Now let's write about some tunes.
1) "Waiting for the 7.18," Bloc Party. It's odd to hear songs about office life now that my commute consists of climbing a flight of stairs and it's impossible to have good water cooler conversations with cats. I dig this song because, even though the lyrics are a little cloying—making a couplet with "sudoku" is never a good idea—it's a big song, designed to reach the back of the stadium. I like that some bands still try to write those kinds of songs. Does anyone remember grandeur?
2) "Bad Light," Built to Spill. I miss guitar heroics, too, which were unfortunately strip- mined in the 80s by leather-pants-clad cobags playing hammer-ons before they could learn to drive. Built to Spill bring the taste back to guitar heroics, stacking layers of riffs and melodies on top of each other, but without ever sacrificing the song for flash.
3) "Don't Get Excited," Graham Parker. An oldie that I recently discovered and wonder how I missed this. He manages to out-Elvis Costello Elvis Costello. Catchy, angryish new wave with great riffs and clever, often sarcastic lyrics. Also known as "my cup of tea."
4) "Lipstick Sunset (Live)," John Hiatt. Fellas, if you need a good song to set the mood with your lady, this is a great choice. Hiatt croons some romantic lyrics over a slow, but not too slow, beat. The perfect road trip song for the journey from the living room to the bedroom.
5) "The Hammer," Motorhead. Also a great romantic choice if you're dating Gina from The 40-Year Old Virgin. Amusing Motorhead aside: Freshman year of college, I had to take a composition course. Our teacher, one of the grad students, used to wear a complete preppy outfit of penny loafers, Levi's, and a tweed jacket, but added a Motorhead t-shirt to the mix. At the time I thought he was a tool, but I realize now he was also an irony pioneer.
6) "Prison Sex," Tool. Perfect for setting the mood if you're incarcerated. Hey, Mad Dog, they're playing our song! Will you walk me to my cell? This is the only album I ever bought because of a music video.
7) "Good Luck," Basement Jaxx. Danceflooricious.
8) "For All the Cows," Foo Fighters. I loved the first Foo Fighters album because of songs like this, but never got into their other albums after that. However, I hope Dave Grohl continues to be popular, because he gets what it means to be a rock star. He's completely dedicated and passionate and yet doesn't take himself too seriously.
9) "Perfect Circle," R.E.M. At the other end of the serious spectrum. Michael Stipe ruined R.E.M. for me, as much as he made me like them in the first place. Has he smiled since Out of Time came out? It's not like I want musicians to be Lenny Bruce necessarily, but you play rock music for a living. Pull the microphone pole out and loosen up a bit.
10) "Dog Eat Dog," AC/DC. I remember seeing an interview with baseball steroid gladiator Jason Giambi, back when he was an emerging star instead of a state's witness. He was wearing a hat that read, "Drive it like you stole it." That's how AC/DC played music before Bon Scott choked to death, like they had been given the keys to a Ferrari and they had better floor it to 150 before someone realized who was behind the wheel. That's also why I always crank early AC/DC to 11.
11) "Jail Guitar Doors," The Clash. Songs like this are why the first Clash album is on my desert island list.
The Lovely Becky bought me this for Christmas, and there will be some serious dork blogging about it later this weekend. Until then, have a good one.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Happy Holidays
The Official Christmas Tree of Brando/TLB Worldwide, Inc. One of the packages under there will be the subject of a post next week. Note: the tree is actually straight, it's the doofus taking the photo who is listing.We are in the NWI for another year of The Noise and The Heat at my grandma's house. Yesterday, we broke the baby news to my extended family. The Lovely Becky has reached the first trimester and everything is going okay, so it seemed like a good time. I don't think sharing good baby news will ever stop feeling refreshing.
Yesterday I was wrapping up a present for my mother, a present that is baby-related. I wanted to sign it from the three of us, but wasn't sure what to call our child. After some discussion with TLB, we settled on "TBD." That seems very appropriate to us.
So from our house to yours, happy holidays and safe travels.
Brando, TLB, and TBD
Friday, December 21, 2007
No Cookies for Old Men
Author's note: Some of the bloggers circled around Circle Jerk at the Square Dance have been engaged in a holiday baking contest. If you have not been involved in the contest or reading the posts, the following is probably not going to make a lot of sense. I apologize for that. In short, this baking contest goes back a couple years, and each year there are boasts, insults, allegations of cheating, sulking, and occasional bursts of goodwill toward the fellow bakers. The links spread throughout may help explain the story. Also, if you haven't seen No Country for Old Men, you may want to watch the trailer first.
On screen:
A FILM BY JOEL AND ETHAN COBAG
On screen:
BASED ON THE BLOG POST BY ADORABLE GIRLFRIEND
In a large, darkened mansion, a pair of fashionable black pumps creep up a flight of stairs. A woman, her face unseen, ascends the wide staircase. She holds a menacing, four-foot tube of cookie dough with a dispenser attached to it. Reaching the top, she enters a bedroom. She comes upon a sleeping man, THE SKIMMER, and wakes him up. The camera pulls back and we see it is BLUE GIRL. She extends a cookie to him.
BLUE GIRL
I need you to call this: yummy or yuck?
SKIMMER
It's one in the morning!
BLUE GIRL
I know. Just call it.
SKIMMER
I need to know what I stand to win.
BLUE GIRL
Everything.
The following words appear on a black screen:
IN A COOKIE CONTEST, YOU CAN BAKE ANYTHING
Inside a log cabin, The Lovely Becky enters, carrying a box. She walks past Brando.
BRANDO
What's in the box, TLB?
TLB
Cookies.
BRANDO
Just cookies?
TLB gives Brando a serious look but says nothing. She takes the large box out of sight.
On screen:
BUT EVERY COOKIE
In a kitchen, JENNIFER and THE UNCANNY CANADIAN look at a mess of crushed boxes and crumbled cookies.
UNCANNY CANADIAN
It's a mess, isn't it, Queen Jennifer?
On screen:
LEAVES A TRAIL OF CRUMBS
JENNIFER
If it ain't a mess, it'll do 'til the mess arrives. (A doorbell rings). Speaking of messes, that must be Kathleen's entry.
In an office, RES PUBLICA sits talking to CHUCKLES.
RES
Are you sure you can win this, Chuckles? Because I can't enter, and that cheater has to be stopped.
CHUCKLES
You leave it to me. But do her cookies really taste that bad?
RES
Compared to what? The bubonic plague?
A series of scenes follow in quick succession:
Blue Girl walks away from a box of shortbread as it explodes.
Blue Girl runs her car over a box that says "Mandos."
Blue Girl wrestles a faceless man in red track suit. As his feet kick wildly on the kitchen floor, we see a pair of egg beaters slowly coming to a stop.
The Uncanny Canadian opens a box and pulls up a red track suit top. It's covered with green cookie dough.
UNCANNY CANDIAN
We got a real loose cannon here. Do you think that TLB has any idea of the sort of baker that's on her?
JENNIFER
She's seen the same things I've seen and it certainly has made an impression on me.
Brando sits on a bus.
BRANDO
Becky, I'm scared.
TLB
Jesus Christ, do I always have to be the one that wears the pants?
Jennifer stands in the Brando/TLB log cabin, which is splattered with green dough.
JENNIFER
It's an all-out war.
In his kitchen, Chuckles sits facing Blue Girl. She raises her dough dispenser to his mouth.
BLUE GIRL
If the recipe you followed brought you to this, what good is the recipe?
TLB stands in her kitchen, covered in flour.
TLB
What is Blue Girl, the ultimate badass baker?
CHUCKLES
You have no idea what she will do to win.
Blue Girl bursts into Res's office, carrying her giant tube of dough. His eyes widen in horror as he sees her dough tube: it reads "Pillsbury."
RES
I knew it!
Blue Girl sits across from Brando. She holds a cookie for him to taste.
BLUE GIRL
Call it.
On screen:
NO COOKIES FOR OLD MEN
DECEMBER 2007
On screen:
A FILM BY JOEL AND ETHAN COBAG
On screen:
BASED ON THE BLOG POST BY ADORABLE GIRLFRIEND
In a large, darkened mansion, a pair of fashionable black pumps creep up a flight of stairs. A woman, her face unseen, ascends the wide staircase. She holds a menacing, four-foot tube of cookie dough with a dispenser attached to it. Reaching the top, she enters a bedroom. She comes upon a sleeping man, THE SKIMMER, and wakes him up. The camera pulls back and we see it is BLUE GIRL. She extends a cookie to him.
BLUE GIRL
I need you to call this: yummy or yuck?
SKIMMER
It's one in the morning!
BLUE GIRL
I know. Just call it.
SKIMMER
I need to know what I stand to win.
BLUE GIRL
Everything.
The following words appear on a black screen:
IN A COOKIE CONTEST, YOU CAN BAKE ANYTHING
Inside a log cabin, The Lovely Becky enters, carrying a box. She walks past Brando.
BRANDO
What's in the box, TLB?
TLB
Cookies.
BRANDO
Just cookies?
TLB gives Brando a serious look but says nothing. She takes the large box out of sight.
On screen:
BUT EVERY COOKIE
In a kitchen, JENNIFER and THE UNCANNY CANADIAN look at a mess of crushed boxes and crumbled cookies.
UNCANNY CANADIAN
It's a mess, isn't it, Queen Jennifer?
On screen:
LEAVES A TRAIL OF CRUMBS
JENNIFER
If it ain't a mess, it'll do 'til the mess arrives. (A doorbell rings). Speaking of messes, that must be Kathleen's entry.
In an office, RES PUBLICA sits talking to CHUCKLES.
RES
Are you sure you can win this, Chuckles? Because I can't enter, and that cheater has to be stopped.
CHUCKLES
You leave it to me. But do her cookies really taste that bad?
RES
Compared to what? The bubonic plague?
A series of scenes follow in quick succession:
Blue Girl walks away from a box of shortbread as it explodes.
Blue Girl runs her car over a box that says "Mandos."
Blue Girl wrestles a faceless man in red track suit. As his feet kick wildly on the kitchen floor, we see a pair of egg beaters slowly coming to a stop.
The Uncanny Canadian opens a box and pulls up a red track suit top. It's covered with green cookie dough.
UNCANNY CANDIAN
We got a real loose cannon here. Do you think that TLB has any idea of the sort of baker that's on her?
JENNIFER
She's seen the same things I've seen and it certainly has made an impression on me.
Brando sits on a bus.
BRANDO
Becky, I'm scared.
TLB
Jesus Christ, do I always have to be the one that wears the pants?
Jennifer stands in the Brando/TLB log cabin, which is splattered with green dough.
JENNIFER
It's an all-out war.
In his kitchen, Chuckles sits facing Blue Girl. She raises her dough dispenser to his mouth.
BLUE GIRL
If the recipe you followed brought you to this, what good is the recipe?
TLB stands in her kitchen, covered in flour.
TLB
What is Blue Girl, the ultimate badass baker?
CHUCKLES
You have no idea what she will do to win.
Blue Girl bursts into Res's office, carrying her giant tube of dough. His eyes widen in horror as he sees her dough tube: it reads "Pillsbury."
RES
I knew it!
Blue Girl sits across from Brando. She holds a cookie for him to taste.
BLUE GIRL
Call it.
On screen:
NO COOKIES FOR OLD MEN
DECEMBER 2007
Championship Vinyl is closed today
Hey kids, I'm running around finishing shopping and what not today, so the Random 11 will be off until next Friday. I'm hoping to put up a post about the Cookie Contest later tonight if I don't go to jail for shooting consumers with too much holiday spirit.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
First Word, One Syllable, Sounds Like Bush
Inside the White House, the Presidential and Vice Presidential families gather round a roaring fire near the Christmas tree. LAURA, JENNA, and BARBARA BUSH sit with VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY, LYNNE CHENEY, MARY CHENEY, and her partner, HEATHER POE. CONDOLEEZA RICE stands by the fire, an empty glass in her hand. PRESIDENT BUSH mans the punch bowl.
Laura Bush chain smokes while the Cheney's and Bush's make small talk. Vice President Cheney ignores them, running his index finger over a globe.
VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY (poking at various countries on the globe)
Eenie, meenie, miny, moe, pick a target by its toe….
PRESIDENT BUSH (holding up punch ladle)
Who wants more of my Bunch?
MARY (waving empty glass and slurring)
I do, I do!
HEATHER
(To Mary) I think you've had enough. (To Bush) Mr. President, no more punch for her.
PRESIDENT BUSH
It's "Bunch," dear.
HEATHER
Bunch?
PRESIDENT BUSH
That's an abbreviational for "Bush punch." It's a special Bush recipe.
POE
What makes it so special?
PRESIDENT BUSH (smirking)
I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.
VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY
Tell her, tell her!
LYNNE
Dick!
PRESIDENT BUSH
(To himself) Heh-heh-heh, that never gets old. (To Rice) Condi, I know you want some.
CONDI (slurring with inebriation)
Sssure. And make mine extra ssspecial
PRESIDENT BUSH
Two extra specials coming up.
When no one is looking, President Bush holds his wrist above the cup and presses a cufflink. Brown liquor pours out from under his shirt cuff into the cups. He ladles a small amount of punch into the glasses. As he turns to give Condi her glass, a large, bottle shaped hump appears under the back of his suit coat.
PRESIDENT BUSH
Bottoms up!
As President Bush goes to drink, Condi hooks her drinking arm around his, pulling herself in close to the President.
CONDI
Is that a direct order, sssir?
Laura gives Condi a stare.
LAURA (overly cheerful)
Condi, I am surprised you're not spending Christmas with your family?
CONDI (draining her Bunch in one gulp first)
I don't have any family.
LAURA
Oh, that's right! I'm the one with the children and the husband. (She exhales smoke in Condi's direction.)
LYNNE (clears throat)
Say, what about a game of charades?
VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY (under breath)
Lord, give me another heart attack now.
PRESIDENT BUSH
That sound like fun! I want to be Sonny Bono.
LAURA
No, dear, not Cher-ades. Cha-rades, where you have to guess the word.
PRESIDENT BUSH
Oh, right. I knew that. Okay, okay, let me go first.
President Bush motions for one word, one syllable. Before he does anything, Cheney guesses.
VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY
Poop.
PRESIDENT BUSH
Heh-heh-heh, how'd you know, Dick? Heh-
Vice President Cheney raises a finger and makes a throat slashing gesture at the President. Bush's last heh-hehs get cut off.
PRESIDENT BUSH (swallowing hard)
Mary, why don't you go?
MARY (finishing her Bunch)
Ummm, okay.
She motions for four words, first word, one syllable. While looking at Jenna, Mary points to her own eye.
JENNA
Eye…(Mary claps)…oh, I! I guessed right. (To Barbara) I'm winning!
Barbara rolls her eyes. Mary motions for the second word, one syllable, and strikes The Thinker pose.
JENNA
I…sit on the toilet?
PRESIDENT BUSH
I poop!
BARBARA
I think.
Mary claps and motions for the third word. She gestures for third word, two syllables. She points to Jenna.
JENNA
Me? I think me?
BARBARA (sighing)
I think Jenna.
JENNA
What? What do I think?
Mary motions for the fourth word, one syllable. She waves her hand like she's fanning herself.
PRESIDENT BUSH
I think Jenna waves. What the heck does that mean?
BARBARA
It's "hot."
Heather stands up.
HEATHER
You think Jenna's hot? How could you?
VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY
Probably because you look like K.D. Lang.
Heather runs out of the room. Mary runs after her. There's a pause before Jenna turns to Barbara.
JENNA
In your face, Barbara! Mary thinks I'm hot.
BARBARA
You know, what, Jenna? Why don't you….
LAURA
Girls? You promised.
BARBARA (waits a beat, then smiles)
You're right, mother. Here, I've got one.
Barbara stands up and indicates one word, one syllable. She cups her ear.
LAURA
Sounds like…
Barbara makes a spanking motion.
LAURA
Sounds like, "spank."
Barbara then points to Jenna.
LAURA
Um, drank, prank…
CONDI
Ssskank!
Barbara claps. Laura stands up and throws her cigarette on the floor.
LAURA (to Condi)
Don't you talk to my daughter like that, you helmet-haired hussie!
CONDI
What's your bony-ass, cancer sucking, Stepford ass going to do about it?
Laura lunges at Condi and pulls at her hair. Jenna shoves Barbara as well.
JENNA
I'm not a skank. You're just jealous because I'm Mary Cheney's favorite Bush.
BARBARA
I'll bet you are.
Jenna gets a confused look for a moment, then makes an angry face. She lunges at Barbara and they go tumbling to the floor.
The four women fight for a moment, eventually spilling out of the room and out of sight.
LYNNE
Shouldn't somebody do something?
PRESIDENT BUSH (pouring himself more Bunch)
Oh, the Secret Service should stop them before anyone gets seriously hurt. Come on, let's keep playing.
VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY
You want to play charades, George? Okay, here's one for you.
Cheney stands up and signals three words, first words, two syllables. He points to his eye.
PRESIDENT BUSH
See…sight…blind…Stevie Wonder!
VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY
Christ on a crutch!
PRESIDENT BUSH
That's more than one syllababel.
VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY
It's "I," you chimp.
He motions for second word, one syllable. Cheney starts running in place.
PRESIDENT BUSH
Trotting…jogging…Jim Fixx…heart attack…Oh my God, are you having a heart attack?
VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY
For God's sake, it's "Iran."
PRESIDENT BUSH
Oh, right. I was going to guess that.
Cheney motions for the third word, two syllables. He extends his arms and runs around the room, making jet engine and bombing noises.
PRESIDENT BUSH
Flying…Jets…Wings…Paul McCartney…Baby, I'm Amazed…Baby Fishmouth.
VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY
It's Iran Airstrike! It's the same fucking clue I've been giving you for the last two years, you goddamned smirking buttfaced mouthbreathing….
He stops and grabs his heart.
PRESIDENT BUSH (excited)
Wait, I know this one: heart attack!
LYNNE (standing up, nonplussed)
No, he's just having some chest pains. He needs to take a time out and relax a bit. (She takes the Vice President's hand.) Come, dear, think happy thoughts. Unilateral military action…executive privilege…the presidential line of succession.
She leads the Vice President out of the room. Bush stands alone for a moment, then triggers his cufflink and fills his glass with booze, not even bothering to add punch before drinking.
PRESIDENT BUSH
Heh-heh, poop.
Laura Bush chain smokes while the Cheney's and Bush's make small talk. Vice President Cheney ignores them, running his index finger over a globe.
VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY (poking at various countries on the globe)
Eenie, meenie, miny, moe, pick a target by its toe….
PRESIDENT BUSH (holding up punch ladle)
Who wants more of my Bunch?
MARY (waving empty glass and slurring)
I do, I do!
HEATHER
(To Mary) I think you've had enough. (To Bush) Mr. President, no more punch for her.
PRESIDENT BUSH
It's "Bunch," dear.
HEATHER
Bunch?
PRESIDENT BUSH
That's an abbreviational for "Bush punch." It's a special Bush recipe.
POE
What makes it so special?
PRESIDENT BUSH (smirking)
I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.
VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY
Tell her, tell her!
LYNNE
Dick!
PRESIDENT BUSH
(To himself) Heh-heh-heh, that never gets old. (To Rice) Condi, I know you want some.
CONDI (slurring with inebriation)
Sssure. And make mine extra ssspecial
PRESIDENT BUSH
Two extra specials coming up.
When no one is looking, President Bush holds his wrist above the cup and presses a cufflink. Brown liquor pours out from under his shirt cuff into the cups. He ladles a small amount of punch into the glasses. As he turns to give Condi her glass, a large, bottle shaped hump appears under the back of his suit coat.
PRESIDENT BUSH
Bottoms up!
As President Bush goes to drink, Condi hooks her drinking arm around his, pulling herself in close to the President.
CONDI
Is that a direct order, sssir?
Laura gives Condi a stare.
LAURA (overly cheerful)
Condi, I am surprised you're not spending Christmas with your family?
CONDI (draining her Bunch in one gulp first)
I don't have any family.
LAURA
Oh, that's right! I'm the one with the children and the husband. (She exhales smoke in Condi's direction.)
LYNNE (clears throat)
Say, what about a game of charades?
VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY (under breath)
Lord, give me another heart attack now.
PRESIDENT BUSH
That sound like fun! I want to be Sonny Bono.
LAURA
No, dear, not Cher-ades. Cha-rades, where you have to guess the word.
PRESIDENT BUSH
Oh, right. I knew that. Okay, okay, let me go first.
President Bush motions for one word, one syllable. Before he does anything, Cheney guesses.
VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY
Poop.
PRESIDENT BUSH
Heh-heh-heh, how'd you know, Dick? Heh-
Vice President Cheney raises a finger and makes a throat slashing gesture at the President. Bush's last heh-hehs get cut off.
PRESIDENT BUSH (swallowing hard)
Mary, why don't you go?
MARY (finishing her Bunch)
Ummm, okay.
She motions for four words, first word, one syllable. While looking at Jenna, Mary points to her own eye.
JENNA
Eye…(Mary claps)…oh, I! I guessed right. (To Barbara) I'm winning!
Barbara rolls her eyes. Mary motions for the second word, one syllable, and strikes The Thinker pose.
JENNA
I…sit on the toilet?
PRESIDENT BUSH
I poop!
BARBARA
I think.
Mary claps and motions for the third word. She gestures for third word, two syllables. She points to Jenna.
JENNA
Me? I think me?
BARBARA (sighing)
I think Jenna.
JENNA
What? What do I think?
Mary motions for the fourth word, one syllable. She waves her hand like she's fanning herself.
PRESIDENT BUSH
I think Jenna waves. What the heck does that mean?
BARBARA
It's "hot."
Heather stands up.
HEATHER
You think Jenna's hot? How could you?
VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY
Probably because you look like K.D. Lang.
Heather runs out of the room. Mary runs after her. There's a pause before Jenna turns to Barbara.
JENNA
In your face, Barbara! Mary thinks I'm hot.
BARBARA
You know, what, Jenna? Why don't you….
LAURA
Girls? You promised.
BARBARA (waits a beat, then smiles)
You're right, mother. Here, I've got one.
Barbara stands up and indicates one word, one syllable. She cups her ear.
LAURA
Sounds like…
Barbara makes a spanking motion.
LAURA
Sounds like, "spank."
Barbara then points to Jenna.
LAURA
Um, drank, prank…
CONDI
Ssskank!
Barbara claps. Laura stands up and throws her cigarette on the floor.
LAURA (to Condi)
Don't you talk to my daughter like that, you helmet-haired hussie!
CONDI
What's your bony-ass, cancer sucking, Stepford ass going to do about it?
Laura lunges at Condi and pulls at her hair. Jenna shoves Barbara as well.
JENNA
I'm not a skank. You're just jealous because I'm Mary Cheney's favorite Bush.
BARBARA
I'll bet you are.
Jenna gets a confused look for a moment, then makes an angry face. She lunges at Barbara and they go tumbling to the floor.
The four women fight for a moment, eventually spilling out of the room and out of sight.
LYNNE
Shouldn't somebody do something?
PRESIDENT BUSH (pouring himself more Bunch)
Oh, the Secret Service should stop them before anyone gets seriously hurt. Come on, let's keep playing.
VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY
You want to play charades, George? Okay, here's one for you.
Cheney stands up and signals three words, first words, two syllables. He points to his eye.
PRESIDENT BUSH
See…sight…blind…Stevie Wonder!
VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY
Christ on a crutch!
PRESIDENT BUSH
That's more than one syllababel.
VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY
It's "I," you chimp.
He motions for second word, one syllable. Cheney starts running in place.
PRESIDENT BUSH
Trotting…jogging…Jim Fixx…heart attack…Oh my God, are you having a heart attack?
VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY
For God's sake, it's "Iran."
PRESIDENT BUSH
Oh, right. I was going to guess that.
Cheney motions for the third word, two syllables. He extends his arms and runs around the room, making jet engine and bombing noises.
PRESIDENT BUSH
Flying…Jets…Wings…Paul McCartney…Baby, I'm Amazed…Baby Fishmouth.
VICE PRESIDENT CHENEY
It's Iran Airstrike! It's the same fucking clue I've been giving you for the last two years, you goddamned smirking buttfaced mouthbreathing….
He stops and grabs his heart.
PRESIDENT BUSH (excited)
Wait, I know this one: heart attack!
LYNNE (standing up, nonplussed)
No, he's just having some chest pains. He needs to take a time out and relax a bit. (She takes the Vice President's hand.) Come, dear, think happy thoughts. Unilateral military action…executive privilege…the presidential line of succession.
She leads the Vice President out of the room. Bush stands alone for a moment, then triggers his cufflink and fills his glass with booze, not even bothering to add punch before drinking.
PRESIDENT BUSH
Heh-heh, poop.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Top Ten Tuesdays: How did we end up on the naughty list?
10) Acted like a real turkey toward the one group in Iraq that likes us.
9) Have more mistresses than approval points.
8) Stuck a little something in Iran's lead stocking.
7) Compared liberals to fascists despite being a fascist about sharing the Cheetos with other National Review staffers.
6) Called husband by pool boy's name.
5) Called wife by pool boy's name.
4) Ate more than our share of the American pie, grabbed everyone else's share, and then licked the few crumbs they had off their faces.
3) Delivered a urine sample so full of performance enhancers, the cup came back from the lab and hit 40 home runs.
2) Reported that we were beat up for our conservative views on sex, when it turns out we were just beating off.
1) Last name rhymes with "Bush."
9) Have more mistresses than approval points.
8) Stuck a little something in Iran's lead stocking.
7) Compared liberals to fascists despite being a fascist about sharing the Cheetos with other National Review staffers.
6) Called husband by pool boy's name.
5) Called wife by pool boy's name.
4) Ate more than our share of the American pie, grabbed everyone else's share, and then licked the few crumbs they had off their faces.
3) Delivered a urine sample so full of performance enhancers, the cup came back from the lab and hit 40 home runs.
2) Reported that we were beat up for our conservative views on sex, when it turns out we were just beating off.
1) Last name rhymes with "Bush."
Friday, December 14, 2007
Help TLB get going on her next novel
The Lovely Becky wants to get crank on her new novel over the semester break, but she needs some new tunes that are good to write by. Stop on by and drop some suggestions in the comment box.
Friday CJ Random 11
I think many of the millions of you who read this blog also read the funniest blog on the Internet, I Am Bossy. However, she posted awful news about a terrible family tragedy: her daughter was attacked by a neighbor's dog and bitten on the face, losing her lip. The doctors grafted it back on, but they don't know yet if it will take.
The more I've thought about it today, the more it makes me sick. People have to take responsibility for their pets. The attack reminded me of a dog attack suffered by one of TLB's younger cousins, who also has a very sweet smile like Bossy's daughter. She lost part of her finger this past fall when she was petting a neighbor's dog, an animal she had petted many times before, but which was also a pit bull. Seriously, what are people thinking when they own animals like this? I hope that dog that attacked Bossy's child gets put down immediately, and the owners should never be allowed to own so much as a fish since they clearly can't manage their pets properly.
Anyway, please offer a prayer/thought for Bossy and her daughter, or go over and leave a comment.
Music always helps me take my mind of things, so here's today's list.
1) "Jackson," Johnny Cash. Johnny Cash's voice is always soothing. No matter what happens, you can always play some man in black.
2) "At the Movies (Rock for Light)," Bad Brains. When you're full of rage and want to hit something but can't, hardcore punk like Bad Brains is a good release.
3) "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction," The Rolling Stones. Such a revolutionary song really ruined by the geriatric Stones still playing it. I have no problem with Mick and Keef and the rest touring, recording, and so on. Their musicians, they love what they do, more power to them, I hope the rock til they drop. But once they reached a certain age, they should have removed certain songs from their set list, like this one. It just doesn't work when sung by someone old enough to draw from a 401k without penalty. Compare the Sullivan version vs. the Cialis version.
4) "Mildred Pierce," Sonic Youth. I caught "Homerpalooza" episode of The Simpsons the other day, which is old enough that Billy Corgan of The Smashing Pumpkins was drawn with hair. Anyway, Sonic Youth were in that episode, with bassist Kim Gordan uttering the classic line, "Hey, Hullabalooza isn't about freaks; it's about music, and advertising, and youth-oriented product positioning." Little did they know how much more true that would become by the time Billy Corgan lost his hair, lost his band, and regained his band.
5) "Family Snapshot," Peter Gabriel. This is a terrific Gabriel track, with a passionate vocal and a nice soft opening that builds to rocking main portion of the song. But what do I hear in the back of the mix? A cowbell. Will Ferrell's collateral damage continues.
6) "Stan (Live)," Eminem with Elton John. This is from the Grammy Awards performance. The most unlikely duet pairing since Axl "Immigrants and Faggots" Rose and Elton John sang "Bohemian Rhapsody" at the Freddy Mercury tribute show. I guess Sir Elton isn't afraid to sing with controversial people. Too bad he missed his chance to sing "What's Love Got to Do With It?" with Ike Turner.
7) "Brass Buttons," Gram Parsons. I think this is what the Eagles were trying to sound like. If this isn't a tequila sunrise, I don't know what is.
8) "It's Been a Hard Day's Night," The Beatles. To follow up on "Satisfaction," McCartney could play this and it would still seem okay. But if he tried to play "I Wanna Hold Your Hand," now, it would seem kind of silly. Especially because the reason he wants to hold your hand is to hand you the divorce settlement and be done with it.
9) "Losing My Edge," LCD Soundsystem. I'm normally not a big fan of speak-singing songs, where the guy or gal talks more than sings. Maybe that's why I never made a big connection with rap. But this is a pretty funny song about an older DJ expressing his fear of losing his edge to the "kids coming up from behind," and then trying to show he's still cool by talking about the shows he's gone to and the records he owns. As someone with a Peter Pan complex, I can completely relate. Worth it for this line alone: I'm losing my edge to the art-school Brooklynites in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered eighties. Christian from Project Runway, I think he's talking about you.
10) "Plush," Stone Temple Pilots. They were poor man's Pearl Jam, but I liked a lot of their hits, including this one. I admit to singing along in the car.
11) "Dio," Tenacious D. Dio, time to go, you must give your cape and scepter to me! I will never admit, even under threat of waterboarding, how much I have air guitarred to Dio.
Have a great weekend, and I'm praying for a speedy, full recovery for Bossy's Daughter.
The more I've thought about it today, the more it makes me sick. People have to take responsibility for their pets. The attack reminded me of a dog attack suffered by one of TLB's younger cousins, who also has a very sweet smile like Bossy's daughter. She lost part of her finger this past fall when she was petting a neighbor's dog, an animal she had petted many times before, but which was also a pit bull. Seriously, what are people thinking when they own animals like this? I hope that dog that attacked Bossy's child gets put down immediately, and the owners should never be allowed to own so much as a fish since they clearly can't manage their pets properly.
Anyway, please offer a prayer/thought for Bossy and her daughter, or go over and leave a comment.
Music always helps me take my mind of things, so here's today's list.
1) "Jackson," Johnny Cash. Johnny Cash's voice is always soothing. No matter what happens, you can always play some man in black.
2) "At the Movies (Rock for Light)," Bad Brains. When you're full of rage and want to hit something but can't, hardcore punk like Bad Brains is a good release.
3) "(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction," The Rolling Stones. Such a revolutionary song really ruined by the geriatric Stones still playing it. I have no problem with Mick and Keef and the rest touring, recording, and so on. Their musicians, they love what they do, more power to them, I hope the rock til they drop. But once they reached a certain age, they should have removed certain songs from their set list, like this one. It just doesn't work when sung by someone old enough to draw from a 401k without penalty. Compare the Sullivan version vs. the Cialis version.
4) "Mildred Pierce," Sonic Youth. I caught "Homerpalooza" episode of The Simpsons the other day, which is old enough that Billy Corgan of The Smashing Pumpkins was drawn with hair. Anyway, Sonic Youth were in that episode, with bassist Kim Gordan uttering the classic line, "Hey, Hullabalooza isn't about freaks; it's about music, and advertising, and youth-oriented product positioning." Little did they know how much more true that would become by the time Billy Corgan lost his hair, lost his band, and regained his band.
5) "Family Snapshot," Peter Gabriel. This is a terrific Gabriel track, with a passionate vocal and a nice soft opening that builds to rocking main portion of the song. But what do I hear in the back of the mix? A cowbell. Will Ferrell's collateral damage continues.
6) "Stan (Live)," Eminem with Elton John. This is from the Grammy Awards performance. The most unlikely duet pairing since Axl "Immigrants and Faggots" Rose and Elton John sang "Bohemian Rhapsody" at the Freddy Mercury tribute show. I guess Sir Elton isn't afraid to sing with controversial people. Too bad he missed his chance to sing "What's Love Got to Do With It?" with Ike Turner.
7) "Brass Buttons," Gram Parsons. I think this is what the Eagles were trying to sound like. If this isn't a tequila sunrise, I don't know what is.
8) "It's Been a Hard Day's Night," The Beatles. To follow up on "Satisfaction," McCartney could play this and it would still seem okay. But if he tried to play "I Wanna Hold Your Hand," now, it would seem kind of silly. Especially because the reason he wants to hold your hand is to hand you the divorce settlement and be done with it.
9) "Losing My Edge," LCD Soundsystem. I'm normally not a big fan of speak-singing songs, where the guy or gal talks more than sings. Maybe that's why I never made a big connection with rap. But this is a pretty funny song about an older DJ expressing his fear of losing his edge to the "kids coming up from behind," and then trying to show he's still cool by talking about the shows he's gone to and the records he owns. As someone with a Peter Pan complex, I can completely relate. Worth it for this line alone: I'm losing my edge to the art-school Brooklynites in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered eighties. Christian from Project Runway, I think he's talking about you.
10) "Plush," Stone Temple Pilots. They were poor man's Pearl Jam, but I liked a lot of their hits, including this one. I admit to singing along in the car.
11) "Dio," Tenacious D. Dio, time to go, you must give your cape and scepter to me! I will never admit, even under threat of waterboarding, how much I have air guitarred to Dio.
Have a great weekend, and I'm praying for a speedy, full recovery for Bossy's Daughter.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Top Ten Tuesdays: What classified material are we destroying?
Special vetted by the _______ ____________ Agency edition!
10) Lincoln Bedroom surveillance tape showing _____ ____ taking it up the ___ while her parents were away at Crawford.
9) Jealous, profanity-laced cover letter included with Lincoln Bedroom surveillance tape from _____ ____'s sister, _______.
8) Inventory of _,___ pairs of shoes purchased by ___________ ____ during national security crises and national disasters.
7) Magic 8-Ball used to make important military decisions by former Secretary of Defense ______ _________.
6) Craigslist ad, credit card receipts, and adult diapers showing how ____ ____ really got the nickname "Turd Blossom."
5) Google Earth image showing location of ____ _________ ______'s coffin.
4) Minutes of White House national security meeting where attendees formed a ______ jerk and ____ off while watching season 2 of 24.
3) Packing slip for First L___ _____ ____ for a black 10-inch _____ ordered from Good Vibrations.
2) Oval Office transcripts of President Bush's frequent, secret meetings with Jack D______ and Jim B___.
1) All traces of hypocrisy and cowardice by D________ who approved of torture before disapproving it.
10) Lincoln Bedroom surveillance tape showing _____ ____ taking it up the ___ while her parents were away at Crawford.
9) Jealous, profanity-laced cover letter included with Lincoln Bedroom surveillance tape from _____ ____'s sister, _______.
8) Inventory of _,___ pairs of shoes purchased by ___________ ____ during national security crises and national disasters.
7) Magic 8-Ball used to make important military decisions by former Secretary of Defense ______ _________.
6) Craigslist ad, credit card receipts, and adult diapers showing how ____ ____ really got the nickname "Turd Blossom."
5) Google Earth image showing location of ____ _________ ______'s coffin.
4) Minutes of White House national security meeting where attendees formed a ______ jerk and ____ off while watching season 2 of 24.
3) Packing slip for First L___ _____ ____ for a black 10-inch _____ ordered from Good Vibrations.
2) Oval Office transcripts of President Bush's frequent, secret meetings with Jack D______ and Jim B___.
1) All traces of hypocrisy and cowardice by D________ who approved of torture before disapproving it.
Friday, December 07, 2007
Friday CJ Random 11
It's one more random than 10!
My brother Tickle and I send each other text messages during Bears games. After seeing a promo for I Am Legend, we had this exchange:
Me: At the end of I Am Legend, Will Smith should find that the only person left alive is Jazzy Jeff.
Tickel: Or Carlton.
That's the kind of comic relief that has allowed me to watch the Bears this year. On to the tunes!
1) "Girlfriend in a Coma," The Smiths. Still hilarious and catchy after all these years. It's hard to go wrong with darkly comic lyrics set against a shiny, bouncy melody.
2) "Who Killed It," Nas. I saw the Seinfeld "Dinner Party" episode last night, where Jerry tries to make a point about how black and white cookies are the secret to harmonious race relations. Well, over the summer, I tried to make my music collection more like a black and white cookie by loading up on some rap music. However, this song is reminding me just how vanilla I really am.
3) "Undone (The Sweater Song)," Weezer. Here's a recipe I'm more familiar with. When I need to feel a little less white, I listen to Weezer. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
4) "Uh Huh Oh Yeah," Paul Weller. Now here is a black and white cookie song. A nice vanilla melody blended with a groovy chocolate beat. Seriously, if you need a pick me up and have never heard Paul Weller, this song is worth looking into.
5) "End of the Great Credibility Race," New Bomb Turks. This is garage rock. Fast, aggressive, and it sounds like they just stuck a mic in the middle of the room, chugged a case of the kind of beer that only comes in cans, and started playing. That also pretty much ensured they would never make it big.
6) "Little Hitler," Nick Lowe. I would never want to piss off Nick Lowe, because he would write a tune about me that would deliver withering insults so catchy, I would be humming them all day long even though each stanza was a slap in the face.
7) "Life Is a Carnival," The Band. If life is a carnival, does that make all of us carnies?
8) "Fashion," David Bowie. Appropriate now that I am immersed in a new season of Project Runway. It's the only reality show I've ever been hooked on (well, maybe the first couple seasons of The Real World). Here's something that I wonder: why do people on reality shows act like they've never seen the reality show they're on? Watching some of this year's Project Runway contestants blow their chances and get voted off, I want to ask them: haven't you ever seen this show? Don't you know that you don't need to win each week, you just need to not suck the most? They're like people in horror movies: gee, the walls are bleeding and the dog is speaking backwards Aramaic, let's go into the basement and investigate!
9) " Goddamn Electric," Pantera. I don't envision them as big Project Runway fans. I would love this if someone else was singing. It's like their singer can't decide if he wants to do the high pitched metal scream or do the Cookie Monster death metal growl, so we get Cookie Monster after a Oreo Double Stuff bender.
10) "Charlotte Sometimes," The Cure. I hate to say it, but this has almost gotten to parody level for me. I still love The Cure, but this is them at their most high school serious. The moaning vocals that try to sound deep, the production echoing the emptiness of Robert Smith's soul, and the martial drum machine pounding out a 4/4 march of despair. Yet it all sounds like it was written by an 18-year old Goth upset that he has to work at Cinnabon in the morning.
11) "No Respect," Public Property. They are all white, they are from Iowa City, and they play…very good reggae music. If that's not a black and white cookie, I don't know what is.
And I hope that all of the participants and judges in the 2007 Cookie Contest will remember to look to the cookie and remember that we are all bakers.
Yeah, right. We're in it to win it and we don't care who we have to burn to make it to the top! I'll see you all in Hell's Kitchen!
Oh, but have a good weekend.
My brother Tickle and I send each other text messages during Bears games. After seeing a promo for I Am Legend, we had this exchange:
Me: At the end of I Am Legend, Will Smith should find that the only person left alive is Jazzy Jeff.
Tickel: Or Carlton.
That's the kind of comic relief that has allowed me to watch the Bears this year. On to the tunes!
1) "Girlfriend in a Coma," The Smiths. Still hilarious and catchy after all these years. It's hard to go wrong with darkly comic lyrics set against a shiny, bouncy melody.
2) "Who Killed It," Nas. I saw the Seinfeld "Dinner Party" episode last night, where Jerry tries to make a point about how black and white cookies are the secret to harmonious race relations. Well, over the summer, I tried to make my music collection more like a black and white cookie by loading up on some rap music. However, this song is reminding me just how vanilla I really am.
3) "Undone (The Sweater Song)," Weezer. Here's a recipe I'm more familiar with. When I need to feel a little less white, I listen to Weezer. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
4) "Uh Huh Oh Yeah," Paul Weller. Now here is a black and white cookie song. A nice vanilla melody blended with a groovy chocolate beat. Seriously, if you need a pick me up and have never heard Paul Weller, this song is worth looking into.
5) "End of the Great Credibility Race," New Bomb Turks. This is garage rock. Fast, aggressive, and it sounds like they just stuck a mic in the middle of the room, chugged a case of the kind of beer that only comes in cans, and started playing. That also pretty much ensured they would never make it big.
6) "Little Hitler," Nick Lowe. I would never want to piss off Nick Lowe, because he would write a tune about me that would deliver withering insults so catchy, I would be humming them all day long even though each stanza was a slap in the face.
7) "Life Is a Carnival," The Band. If life is a carnival, does that make all of us carnies?
8) "Fashion," David Bowie. Appropriate now that I am immersed in a new season of Project Runway. It's the only reality show I've ever been hooked on (well, maybe the first couple seasons of The Real World). Here's something that I wonder: why do people on reality shows act like they've never seen the reality show they're on? Watching some of this year's Project Runway contestants blow their chances and get voted off, I want to ask them: haven't you ever seen this show? Don't you know that you don't need to win each week, you just need to not suck the most? They're like people in horror movies: gee, the walls are bleeding and the dog is speaking backwards Aramaic, let's go into the basement and investigate!
9) " Goddamn Electric," Pantera. I don't envision them as big Project Runway fans. I would love this if someone else was singing. It's like their singer can't decide if he wants to do the high pitched metal scream or do the Cookie Monster death metal growl, so we get Cookie Monster after a Oreo Double Stuff bender.
10) "Charlotte Sometimes," The Cure. I hate to say it, but this has almost gotten to parody level for me. I still love The Cure, but this is them at their most high school serious. The moaning vocals that try to sound deep, the production echoing the emptiness of Robert Smith's soul, and the martial drum machine pounding out a 4/4 march of despair. Yet it all sounds like it was written by an 18-year old Goth upset that he has to work at Cinnabon in the morning.
11) "No Respect," Public Property. They are all white, they are from Iowa City, and they play…very good reggae music. If that's not a black and white cookie, I don't know what is.
And I hope that all of the participants and judges in the 2007 Cookie Contest will remember to look to the cookie and remember that we are all bakers.
Yeah, right. We're in it to win it and we don't care who we have to burn to make it to the top! I'll see you all in Hell's Kitchen!
Oh, but have a good weekend.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Bush: US Must Win the War on Truth
Calls Facts "bad for US foreign policy"; Proposes 50% reduction in Veracity by 2009.
WASHINGTON – Responding to a National Intelligence Estimate that said that Iran's nuclear weapons program had stopped in 2003, President Bush announced at a press conference that the United States could no longer tolerate the actions of Truth.
"After the NIE report was released," the President began, "Iranian President Mahmoud Almondjoyjihad said that this report is a victory for Iran. Well, any victory for Iran is a victory for terrorism. Which means that Truth supports terrorism. And you're either with us or against us, so that means Truth is against us.
"I will not stand by and let Truth dismantle all that this administration is trying to accomplish."
The administration has had an uneasy relationship with Truth since the beginning of the Bush presidency, when the dispute over the electoral returns in Florida in 2000 threw the presidential election into chaos. Since then, Truth has often been at odds over a number of Bush policies: the impact of tax cuts on the deficit, the presence of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq as justification for invasion, the use of torture on detainees in the War on Terror, and the White House's assertion that old people and puppies were safe around the Vice President.
Critics of the administration have long said that the White House should embrace Truth. However, the Bush administration instead signed a treaty with Deceit, making it difficult to reach an accommodation with Truth.
At the press conference, the President made it clear that the relationship with Truth had reached a breaking point. "We tried to compromise with Truth," Bush said. "We were open to giving Truth some concessions, but it's all or nothing with Truth. For example, we tried to say that just because Iran isn't developing nookular weapons doesn't mean Iran isn't developing nukes. But that's not good enough for Truth and all the facthuggers out there. So we have no choice but to declare War on Truth."
The President then unveiled a new diagram labeling Truth, Facts, Reason, and Logic as the "Rhombus of Inconvenience." President Bush described it as "a parallelogram to the Axis of Evil."
He added, "I named that one myself. I was pretty good at geography."
During the question an answer period, reporter Helen Thomas asked that if the President was declaring a War on Truth, "wouldn't the White House actually lie about being at war with Truth?"
"But I'm telling the truth," the President answered.
"But how can we be sure of that if you're at war with Truth?" Thomas asked.
The President blinked for thirty seconds, and responded, "Boy, my head hasn't hurt much since the second Back to the Future movie. I guess I have to say that the American people should just trust me."
WASHINGTON – Responding to a National Intelligence Estimate that said that Iran's nuclear weapons program had stopped in 2003, President Bush announced at a press conference that the United States could no longer tolerate the actions of Truth.
"After the NIE report was released," the President began, "Iranian President Mahmoud Almondjoyjihad said that this report is a victory for Iran. Well, any victory for Iran is a victory for terrorism. Which means that Truth supports terrorism. And you're either with us or against us, so that means Truth is against us.
"I will not stand by and let Truth dismantle all that this administration is trying to accomplish."
The administration has had an uneasy relationship with Truth since the beginning of the Bush presidency, when the dispute over the electoral returns in Florida in 2000 threw the presidential election into chaos. Since then, Truth has often been at odds over a number of Bush policies: the impact of tax cuts on the deficit, the presence of weapons of mass destruction in Iraq as justification for invasion, the use of torture on detainees in the War on Terror, and the White House's assertion that old people and puppies were safe around the Vice President.
Critics of the administration have long said that the White House should embrace Truth. However, the Bush administration instead signed a treaty with Deceit, making it difficult to reach an accommodation with Truth.
At the press conference, the President made it clear that the relationship with Truth had reached a breaking point. "We tried to compromise with Truth," Bush said. "We were open to giving Truth some concessions, but it's all or nothing with Truth. For example, we tried to say that just because Iran isn't developing nookular weapons doesn't mean Iran isn't developing nukes. But that's not good enough for Truth and all the facthuggers out there. So we have no choice but to declare War on Truth."
The President then unveiled a new diagram labeling Truth, Facts, Reason, and Logic as the "Rhombus of Inconvenience." President Bush described it as "a parallelogram to the Axis of Evil."
He added, "I named that one myself. I was pretty good at geography."
During the question an answer period, reporter Helen Thomas asked that if the President was declaring a War on Truth, "wouldn't the White House actually lie about being at war with Truth?"
"But I'm telling the truth," the President answered.
"But how can we be sure of that if you're at war with Truth?" Thomas asked.
The President blinked for thirty seconds, and responded, "Boy, my head hasn't hurt much since the second Back to the Future movie. I guess I have to say that the American people should just trust me."
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Top Ten Tuesdays: Why did we break our abstinence pledges?
10) Took internship in Republican Congressman's office.
9) Meant to only do anal but never learned anatomy in home school.
8) Received an urgent revelation from a different kind of burning bush.
7) See, this one time, at band camp….
6) Thought it would cause the hair to fall from our palms.
5) Wanted to get out of going to another creepy purity ball with Dad.
4) Priest promised it wouldn't count if we went to confession right after.
3) Turned 40.
2) Played Twister at the Purity Party.
1) Touched by an angel, or some guy claiming to be St. Michael.
9) Meant to only do anal but never learned anatomy in home school.
8) Received an urgent revelation from a different kind of burning bush.
7) See, this one time, at band camp….
6) Thought it would cause the hair to fall from our palms.
5) Wanted to get out of going to another creepy purity ball with Dad.
4) Priest promised it wouldn't count if we went to confession right after.
3) Turned 40.
2) Played Twister at the Purity Party.
1) Touched by an angel, or some guy claiming to be St. Michael.
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