Thanks again to those that came out on Friday night to see Wilford Brimley and British Tits: we raised $122 for this guy, which is awesome.
Now for some clips and shits: the mighty, mighty Raspberries...Chris Hansen as a diligent businessman ("those are great looking shoes, by the way")...the Holy Fastball...Schilling, about halfway down, on who throws the best what... "Amidst an eerie green glow under the ring resides Hornswoggle, a little man who looks like a mini version of the fighting Irishman"...playing video games with Flip...one of my favorite melodies of ever...Manson vs. The Judge...i dig these guys, very very nice fellows.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Nyquil
In one of those happy cold medicine wakefulness moments, I caught the tail end of Lucinda Williams' new single on Letterman last night.
Check it out. She's a master.
Check it out. She's a master.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Maine
Up here in rural Maine. Maine's a great name for a CD. Not for a song, and probably not for a band. And now that I think of it, not for "a CD" either, but rather a good, full-length, feedback-through-a-harmony-strainer album. So don't no one steal it; I'll write an album called Maine someday. Not the next one, though...I think that ought to be Shoot for Empire. So don't no one steal that one either.
Hit our myspace for some new show info as well as how the hell you can get our new CD (April 1 release).
Link here. Some mornings you just wish you could break through the fucking screen and put your arms around someone and keep them safe forever.
Hit our myspace for some new show info as well as how the hell you can get our new CD (April 1 release).
Link here. Some mornings you just wish you could break through the fucking screen and put your arms around someone and keep them safe forever.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
It's Not Like I Wrote to the Pussycat Dolls or Some Shit
File under: Online Stalking.
Well, it's Tuesday night after all and I just watched my buddy Chris Hansen over at Dateline NBC take down some predators...
So I'm at war with this band I went to see last week. We're at two 'read', i.e. unreplied myspace messages asking them the name of the song that opened their set. You know why I asked them? Because I loved it; I thought it was great; I was singing it to myself all night and I wanted to know if I could buy it or listen to it anywhere. In fact, I told them that. "You guys fucking rocked," I believe I wrote. Why yes, that's exactly what I wrote.
No response. And...again. And...no response. I guess I just don't get that. Would have taken ten seconds to say thanks and tell me the name of the song. Yeah, I know, I don't know their insides. But it still sucks. I wish them mediocrity from here on out.
Signed,
Rupert Pupkin, The King of Comedy
Well, it's Tuesday night after all and I just watched my buddy Chris Hansen over at Dateline NBC take down some predators...
So I'm at war with this band I went to see last week. We're at two 'read', i.e. unreplied myspace messages asking them the name of the song that opened their set. You know why I asked them? Because I loved it; I thought it was great; I was singing it to myself all night and I wanted to know if I could buy it or listen to it anywhere. In fact, I told them that. "You guys fucking rocked," I believe I wrote. Why yes, that's exactly what I wrote.
No response. And...again. And...no response. I guess I just don't get that. Would have taken ten seconds to say thanks and tell me the name of the song. Yeah, I know, I don't know their insides. But it still sucks. I wish them mediocrity from here on out.
Signed,
Rupert Pupkin, The King of Comedy
Friday, February 23, 2007
Him Meaning Jamison?
No way...him meaning my best friend.
Happy birthday to you, buddy, with all the love in the world.
Happy birthday to you, buddy, with all the love in the world.
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Slatterday in the Park
Alright...Chicago's "25 or 6 to 4" comes on the radio. Do you change the channel? Why? Why not?
Friday, February 16, 2007
Fatnom Gourmet Presents a Gr8 8
Was reading this one by Jim Harrison last night (pretty good, not great) and thinking about how I've always wanted to read that one, which of course, or not so of course I guess, got me to thinking about books I haven't read, movies I haven't seen, things I haven't heard. Maybe you'll be pleased to give me advance warning on these before I get around to them:
1. Finnegan's Wake. Loved Dubliners, on or about the thirty-five yard line with Ulysses (scarred by Jesus manque 9th grade English teacher's fanaticism). I think maybe we were supposed to read Finnegan's for a Modern British & Irish fiction class I took in college, but I sure didn't.
2. McCabe and Mrs. Miller. The little description is enough: 'haunting, wintry Western.' Altman at the peak of his powers, I am told.
3. Duke Ellington. I mean, heard everything here and there, by osmosis I suppose. But haven't yet given him a concerted essay. Reading this biography now which, despite Nat Hentoff's nice jacket quote, actually kind of sucks so far--feels like piffle.
4. Arcade Fire. I like Canadians, I love Montreal, I think it's neat when couples form bands, a couple of friends have told me I'd really love them. I guess we'll see.
5. Ulysses S. Grant's Ripper of a Yarn. Interesting: Mark Twain published this bad boy.
6. Candy. They're sort of the great white whale of power pop for me. I don't know why I haven't just bought this. Maybe today I will.
7. Monte Walsh. The book not the movie, though I have an inexplicable fondness for Tom Sellect that has nothing to do with his moustache, and certainly not his love of the firearm.
8. East Boston Pizza. Pizza, pizza. Now I'm really hungry. Is it okay to serve pizza at a wedding? Probably not. Also, that was just a joke.
1. Finnegan's Wake. Loved Dubliners, on or about the thirty-five yard line with Ulysses (scarred by Jesus manque 9th grade English teacher's fanaticism). I think maybe we were supposed to read Finnegan's for a Modern British & Irish fiction class I took in college, but I sure didn't.
2. McCabe and Mrs. Miller. The little description is enough: 'haunting, wintry Western.' Altman at the peak of his powers, I am told.
3. Duke Ellington. I mean, heard everything here and there, by osmosis I suppose. But haven't yet given him a concerted essay. Reading this biography now which, despite Nat Hentoff's nice jacket quote, actually kind of sucks so far--feels like piffle.
4. Arcade Fire. I like Canadians, I love Montreal, I think it's neat when couples form bands, a couple of friends have told me I'd really love them. I guess we'll see.
5. Ulysses S. Grant's Ripper of a Yarn. Interesting: Mark Twain published this bad boy.
6. Candy. They're sort of the great white whale of power pop for me. I don't know why I haven't just bought this. Maybe today I will.
7. Monte Walsh. The book not the movie, though I have an inexplicable fondness for Tom Sellect that has nothing to do with his moustache, and certainly not his love of the firearm.
8. East Boston Pizza. Pizza, pizza. Now I'm really hungry. Is it okay to serve pizza at a wedding? Probably not. Also, that was just a joke.
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