I went to see the Ann Arbor Film Festival with Meredith over the weekend. Animals with Self Awareness. That was the theme of the first animated short we saw... shock value, a la The Aristocrats.

This coming weekend, I hope to see Ray LaMontagne play at the Rex Theater this Friday, Sept. 30 . If you like Crosby Stills and Young, or My Morning Jacket, you'll like him.

The End of An Era

The End of an Era has yawned to a close, as they will do. The last of the Masquer nation who called 2017 Jane St their home is moving out. The thrum of activity that marked this place will take on a new rhythm. A new rhythm.

As I sip my cachacha (pronounced ka-sha-sa, or ka-sha-sha) I take a pause from emptying shelves and drawers, loading totes and boxes, to refelct on seven years in this domicile. This hovel. This shack. This palace. This duplex of ... many more things than I can relate in words. Because this place has been so much more than merely a Masquer home. Historically more important than the legendary 1717 Sarah street, this house was a Masquer stronghold. Throughout this history, you'll notice what seems a repetition of names, sometimes to absurdity, though it is really a new person. This may become confusin to the casual reader, but familiar to those who know Jane St.

A Brief Chronogly of Tenants
When I moved in, I moved into the attic, replacing Dave Burke, a Masquer Affiliate. You may ask, what is a Masquer Affiliate? These are the people who are not Masquers, but who know and regularly associate with Masquers... they tend to pride themselves on their subtle or overt differences, but share a common interest and affection of things Masquer.

Dave Burke lived with Curt Connoly and Mike Melczak, but we must begin at the beginning. Mike Melczak rented the place in September of 1996 with Tanya Torres. This began the Masquer Nation (both being Masquers) stronghold. During this time, I earned the prestigious Golden Shower Masquer Award, so prestigious, that it has only been awarded once ... to me. I still hold and treasure said Award. Tanya moved out, presumably to begin her romantic interlude that led to a marriage with Joe Wilson, A-Phi-O brother and cigar afficionado. Mike offered a spot on the A-list to me, but this was fiscally impossible at the moment. Thus, Tanya was succeeded by Curt Connolly who lived before at Wharton Street (this was also an illustrious Masquer household). Living here with Melczak, and The TRM Cycles connection quickly yielded Masquer Affiliate Dave Burke, a November 1996 move-in. This was the inception and heyday of Smooth, the honey-bear bank who took on an alternate persona.

Pause for a cigarette.

Dave Burke can best be remembered by the author as being the 14 year old kid who liked turning wrenches and visiting Rogers Hardware store. To learn more about him, check his blog on the side. My first re-introduction was Dave Burke in his racing gear, pushing a bicycle through the living room, asking me politely to leave the house after finding me passed out on the couch after a Saturday of debauchery. Following a short reintroduction and several tall glasses of Pepsi to soothe my dyspeptic stomach, Dave kindly allowed me to recuperate on the couch. Several months later, Dave moved out and I assumed his appurtenancy as attic dweller of Jane St. This position I have held until now.

1998-2000 Mike, Curt and Dunegan

This was the era of the basement. True, there was a basement before, and it was duly used in the times preceding, but arguably this was the Golden Day of the Basement. This is the era when Mike asked Autumn to abdicate her couch vagrancy in favor of full-time girlfriend. This is the time when Curt and Ann became engaged. The lighting (or at least naming) of the flaming-tar-sticks-of-death. The days of a kings castle ladened with adult magazines. Notoriously ladened. this is the time when we made, made, Christmas cards. Also notoriously ladened. But we were wearing pants.

Shifting Again
Curt and Ann got married and moved to Gallup, NM. They live there still. Kathy Burke moved in, replacing Curt, reasserting a female tenant presence at Jane St. A year after, Mike moved to Boston, and Jim Hee replaced him. Me, Jim and Kathy. All tenants were masquers. Dave and Kathy share a name, but no direct familial relationship. Kathy Burke announced one evening that she was moving in with Tony, her old boyfriend. The following morning, and sober, she re-asserted this claim. Jim Hee stayed and Matt Case, Masquer affiliate, replaced Kathy. i'm getting to the bottom of my cachacha and this entry, so meaning no offense, i turn brief. Jim moved out to live with Ro, and Marty Connolly replaced him. Marty moved out to live with his fiance Emma, and Matt Case was a permanent fixture in his GFs house, so Matt Smith moved in. Too many Matts. And now, I too am moving out after seven years and seven roommates, it is time.

Edisto Beach and The Big City

I have returned from Edisto Beach (Thank you, Jay. You are a gracious host and I thoroughly enjoyed myself in yours and everyone else's company.) The ocean is good for perspective gaining and what not. There were bright days and hazy days, sea turtle hatchlings running to the ocean (Ann got some greast footage of one little guy trooping over the sand and into the waves. Nice work, both of you!), slum gullion, steaks, french toast, salads with anchovies, guacamole, zucchinis, pasta, lime chicken, wine, beer, and celebrity. Beach reading, boogie boarding, sun blocking, sky gazing, stars shooting, cigarette smoking, horseshoe throwing and bike riding. A trip to Savannah with ghost stories and waiting and anticipation. Waiting to hear from NYC and anticpating seeing Curt and Ann. Good times and good food with good friends ... what, do I write for a touristy ad or something out of a book of sophomoric poetry?

This, right on the heels of my trip to NYC to interview for a job. The interview went well enough, the school looked well enough, and aside from some parking and traffic tickets, everything else went well. So what did I find out? That it's important to keep an open mind and a fresh page open in your book of options. If at least, so you can write a poem here and there.

The Academy of Letters Wrote Back

The Academy of Letters wrote back,
"Thank you for the interest in our school"
To me and some talented others in the pool
They didn't ask to get out and towell off.
Yes and like the rest, when I got dressed
The polite reply read, "Not impressed"
The Academy of Letters wrote back.

Long time no post ... Now long post.

Not a lot has been going on in the forefront, or even the backfront. Or at least that's how it seems to me. In reality, there's a lot brewing under the surface that sometimes suffervesces (imaginary word like effervesce, to bubble or froth up, made by combining the prefix sub- under or below, instead of ex- from, and fervescere to begin to boil, glow, meaning coming up from below to the surface) through my pores, or takes the form of an awkward expression. There is much change going on, but for all of the bubbling and frothing, it's hard to see just yet what shape it will take.

I've been cooking some good meals, often for friends, and trying to coordinate my job hunting efforts into something profitable. Or tangible. Or . . . job-like. I made a trip to NYC a month ago to attend a teacher job fair. it was informative, but I'll have to relate that tale shortly. Right now, I'm trying to get my forms and papers and what-not squared away with the NYC Board of Education so that they will offer me a teaching job. I'm trying to do the same for local schools in case NYC doesn't work out. Some consolation comes in knowing that many of my classmates in the PY program are also still looking and waiting for jobs.

New York City? Yes . . . and there's a certain part of moving away from Pittsburgh that is appealing to me, though it isn't mandatory for my existence. In fact, the thought of moving away is kinda scary . . . I have always lived here, and I have a great social network here, so why go? Why not just find a new apartment?

yes, and why New York? Fair enough question. Some say, I can totally see you teaching in NYC, and others ask if I have fallen or been hit in the head with a blunt object. It has some mysterious draw, NYC, perhaps because it is so big, and there will always be something new to see and explore. let the record stand that I use 'NYC' because it is shorthand, and easy to type, not to pose as uber-cool. Yes, my story will clarify any discrepancies on that point.

School is done, but then started right back up again. I think this is what the rest of my life will be like: school starting right after ending. This is anaphoristic. It's a good thing that I kinda like school, ya know, given the profession I'm entering and all. Anyways, I'm done with my certification courses and student teaching parts, and now I'm working out the provisional bits. This comes in the form of an American Lit course.

Something cool just happened. I love it when this stuff occurs. I started searching for some items of interest as I was typing up my notes about Walt Whitman. What is this term, anaphor? My instructor said it wasn't important in terms of this courses larger aims, but of COURSE I had to look it up. After I found the definition and saw how it fits within section [15] of Walt Whitman's Song of Myself (for a shorter version of the same thing by the same poet, try I Hear America Singing) I remembered a question I had with Meredith and her friends Sam, Kate, and Demetrius. --> -->

What are the parts of an analogy? you know, there's the A : B :: 1 : 2 stuff right? So there's a colon, and the double colon, which must have names. and then the antecedent and post-cedent parts. What're these bits, colons, etc. called?

Well, I Googled, and the first thing that came up for Analogy was this bit here, which of course fits in great with the term Anaphor and what Whitman was after in the poem.

IG Readers and Survey readers, here's how it fits:
Grass and its Potential Meanings in Whitman's Song of Myself
• Rebirth / Cycle of life / Unity / Repetition
• Nature and Natural unity
• Tied by something that you may not necessarily see (networked roots)
• Metaphor for Society, and an underlying theme to the poem
• Seeing Whitman as an “I” and potentially getting lost in the crowd

The concept of homology, or morphological correspondence, was the central tenet of philosophical anatomy. It was used to define structural similarity. Homologies, which are now defined in terms of evolution, were formerly interpreted in a transcendental sense. Arguably, Whitman was Transcendental, if only from his literary influences, like Thoreau. Homology is a systematic similarity -- when two parts occupy the same positions in distinct but otherwise isomorphic systems of relations, in their relative positions and in the connection of the parts. This conceptual reduction to schematic identity enables comparisons between organisms in terms of their similarities and difference. ... In his Metamorphosis of Plants, Goethe identified serial homologies in plants. This is also known today as homotypy and serially repeated parts are called homotypes. You should see the connections...


So awesome when that happens . . . you rock, Great Unspoken. Especially when you do cool stuff as opposed to freaking me out... And i still don't kow what the parts of an analogy are called, but this is a question i can carry with me. I'm satisfied though, because, I found something else cool.

The world around us speaks to us in many ways.

Observe your body and you may observe your spirit.

I tremble.

Not in fear, or the fear we may know to be senseless.

But in a fear that inspires an awe in and of that which we do not understand.

I want to share something with you gentle reader.

Tonight I met with a friend to celebrate my birthday.

We patronized a local establishment and shared a few beers while smoking cigaretes and waiting for a table outdoors. We wanted to relish the new warmth of spring and extended light of our ridiculous Daylight Savings time. We talked of the simple and complex things of our mundane lives as only he and I can, the simple and complex pains and joys of our modern existence. This is something I share with no other, and it is not always easy, though it is never complicated or difficult.

He gave me simple and beautiful gifts, those gifts of thought that only a friend who knows you deeply and well may bestow upon you. New music on a burned CD, and something reminiscent of younger days:

"This is sage and sweetgrass. Burn it when you wish to clear your thoughts and ease your soul."

"I may use this sooner than later," I told him. "Thank you."

And when he left, I waited, and then stepped outside to light a smoldering fire. "Each ingredient is considered a sacred herb used for centuries by native Americans in their smudging ceremonies. Smudging is the name given to the burning of these herbs for the purposes of cleansing and sending out prayers... Use a container to waft the smoke into your face and breathe it in," read the directions on the string-bound bundle of sage and sweetgrass. And usign my hands as a container, I did.

Thinking of the things come and gone, the things past present and coming, I breathed in the smoke. It burned my nose, stirring sensations not unlike that of eating wasabi. Simple and complex joys. I thought of those here, those far away and of those who have gone. It is for you I think and write tonight.

I gathered detritus from the small patch of garden adjacent to my yard: dried lemon balm, dried sage, dried wildgrass that had knit into a mat, dried spearmint stalks, some still with leaves, and I burned this too in each of the three divisions of my garden. As the flames flew and the smoke rose, I thought of new life and old. Cleansing and growth. I thought of those here, those far away and of those who have gone.

The sounds of my neighborhood echoed through the air, but I was alone. No one would intrude upon me. And there I thought of my failed garden that still gave a humble yield last spring: Lemon balm, sage and spearmint. I've been adding coffee grinds and eggshells, in an effort to enrich the earth in this tiny space once more before moving to a new place this fall. The ashes will remain in the garden, too. I will grow simple things here and share them as I can.

As I finished, I sat and smoked a cigarette, thinking of how important tobacco is and was to the Native Americans. I thought of the Cheyenne Indian named One Stab in Jim Harrison's novella Legends of the Fall. I thought of those who are quick to judge and was sorry for them because they do not understand. I thought Emerson and those who advise us to think for ourselves and cherish our thoughts and independence. It is illegal to have lit fires in Allegheny County, and I thought of Thoreau's Civil Disobedience and how I would speak with my nieghbors and the local authorities should they become concerned about smelling smoke or seeing fire. I thought of proud New Englanders. I thought of many things.

And looking up into the darkened sky above my back yard, a star streaked faintly across the blackened oblivion. I traced its southern-bound path, in disbelief and then smiled in nodding appreciation. Standing and still smoking my cigarette, I thankfully wondered what prompted me to look up in time, only to see a pair of stars trailing east from the same spot. Was it an airplane formation? No, they too quickly flickered out in the sky. And thinking better than to ask for more, I stepped inside wanting to share this experience before it too is gone like a bright flicker in the dark night.

Were they meteorites or satellites? I will never know. But I do know they were part of the the simple and complex joys of a modern existence. And now, behind the soot inadvertently smudged on my face, I smile, happy and sad that the trembling has gone.

Spring must be here.

I was making coffee this morning, and being Saturday, I looked out the window and actually watched the birds in my backyard instead of dashing off to the shower and getting ready to go teach.
And so I saw two little 'chippy' birds sitting on the fence. Rather typical. The one just sat there as the other flew around her, tried landing on her(?) and ... what the? ... oh right... Go for it, buddy!!! And he did. Oh you should've seen it, because that's some talent there! Entering from behind in mid-flight, while she balances on the fence. Sounds like a metaphor for something... but I don't know what just yet.

Ducks ... I am losing my respect for them, if I ever had any at all. They are apparently little sluts, ducks that is. Yeah, but it gets better, or worse that is... Check this out. And NO, I didn't do a Google search on gay necrophiliac water fowl.
EEeewww!!! It gets worse. I hate pigeons.

I had my third observation today, and of course, I forgot to do some rather significant things in my lesson plan. Like hand out previous class assignments. I never get to cover enough of the material i'd like to, but feel better when I ind out i'm not the only one who has this happen. My observation reviews have been OK, sorta what you would expect. I'm think I'm doing alright, though, overall...

This woman Annie Lopez is a local artist (or she at least lives here) who does some pretty cool work. I didn't get to see her show at the Bossa Nova, but you should check out her web page.

This was my first week of teaching consecutive lessons, a week that blew by . . . busy, stressful, fun, etc., but exciting because I was actually teaching. i thin some kids may have learned something, too. Me included.

The Weekend short version: Friday, out with Tony, met a gaggle of lesbians at the Tiki lounge out for a birthday, and they invited us to come hang with them. These girls sure talked a LOT about breasts and how much fun they can be, and made it readily apparent that they beleived this. they weren't the lipstick variety, but weren't gross either. In fact,s ome were kida cute. they liked when the bartender danced on the bar like a stripper and shook her little dishtowell mini-skirt. i think everyone enjoyed it. no nudity, though. That was later at Bar 11, when some girl (not one of the lesbians) decided she needed to show everybody her nipples. she was not buxom, but defintiely proud of her nipples.

*******************************

A poetry for today, by Mr. Claude McKay

Heritage

Now the dead past seems vividly alive,
And in this shining moment I can trace,
Down through the vista of the vanished years,
Your faun-like form, your fond elusive face.

And suddenly some secret spring's released,
And unawares a riddle is revealed,
And I can read like large, black-lettered print,
What seemed before a thing forever sealed.

I know the magic word, the graceful thought,
The song that fills me in my lucid hours,
The spirit's wine that thrills my body through,
And makes me music-drunk, are yours, all yours.

I cannot praise, for you have passed from praise,
I have no tinted thoughts to paint you true;
But I can feel and I can write the word;
The best of me is but the least of you.

I am the country of Cambodia.

You're Cambodia!

Life's been really rough, but it's slowly improving.  You know
way too much about the skeletal structure of humans, mostly from being forced to study
it.  This has given you a fear of many things, most especially the color red.
 The future has to be more promising though, and your greatest adversary can now
never come back to hurt you any more.
Take
the Country Quiz at the href="http://bluepyramid.org">Blue Pyramid

I'm the cover page book on the Book Quiz. http://bluepyramid.org/ia/bquiz.htm

You're Loosely Based!

by Storey Clayton

While most people haven't heard of you, you're a really good and
interesting person. Rather clever and witty, you crack a lot of jokes about the world
around you. You do have a serious side, however, where your interest covers the homeless
and the inequalities of society. You're good at bringing people together, but they keep
asking you what your name means.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

THIS IS NOT YOUR MOTHER'S ONLINE RADIO STATION

I doubt if it's yours either. Sometimes it's so refreshing to know that you've got an edge, perhaps even been on the cutting edge, ahh yes the bloody bleeding edge.

K C R W

My friend Christina Indovina turned me onto this online station a few years ago, and I've loved it ever since. You can see the link there in the margin of this webpage for their show Morning Becomes Eclectic. I dare say NOBODY who reads this has made a return visit to KCRW, if even an initial visit. That's alright though. It's your loss not mine.
You can find familiar artists, like Moby, the Flaming Lips, Beck, Coldplay ( artists you may not find in a WalMArt or maybe even Sam Goody), and other artists like Joseph Arthur, Eleni Mandell, Devotchka (artists you will never find in mega-chains, and may never ever find inyour local record store) . These are all good artists and if you don't know them, too bad for you. Your fast on your way to the WalMart to pick up yer newest mass-produced boyband album, or the retirement home. But KCRW knows them, gives these artists some well-deserved air time.

They may be appearing on your local WYEP stations soon. At least some of their shows.
This article in the N Y Times makes me wonder if this is going to still be a good thing or not. I tend to think so, though.


************************************
CONSUMED
Easy ListeningBy ROB WALKER Published: January 23, 2005

KCRW.com

As part of the CMJ Music Marathon this past October, a New York band called Brazilian Girls performed a danceable set of songs in multiple languages before a crowd at the Hiro Ballroom in Manhattan. The sponsor of this particular event was KCRW.com, which presents live music on a regular basis in New York these days, at venues like Joe's Pub and the Mercury Lounge. But residents of the tri-state area who look for the station on their FM dial will be frustrated. KCRW is based in Santa Monica, Calif.
Why is a Southern California public radio station promoting events on the other side of the country? Because while new media and old media are supposed to be enemies, KCRW.com is trying to make them allies, by building an online listener base -- and in the process trying to create what amounts to a national brand. For the past few years, KCRW.com has broadcast three ''streams,'' including a 24-hour music option.
It's hard to come up with a solid figure for the number of online listeners, since the station's Netcasts travel not just from its own site but also through AOL and Apple's iTunes software. But one gauge of popularity that seems relevant to a public radio station is the number of people well outside the traditional broadcast range who become ''members'' -- that is, who donate money. With each KCRW pledge drive in recent years come scores of comments from contributors who listen online. ''I adore your station and listen to it every day here in beautiful Brooklyn, U.S.A.!'' one donor wrote recently. More than 1,000 New Yorkers have become members since 2000; similar comments come from all over the country. KCRW has long had a certain tastemaker status, centered on the weekday show ''Morning Becomes Eclectic,'' which lives up to its name by giving time to artists across a swath of genres, from Eleni Mandell, the Los Angeles singer-songwriter, to club favorites like the Scissor Sisters and indie-rock bands like Franz Ferdinand. That has continued with that show's current D.J., Nic Harcourt, who has been the station's music director since 1998. He says KCRW was the first radio station to play Norah Jones, and the first in the U.S. to play Dido and Coldplay. (He is also host of a weekly sister program, ''Sounds Eclectic,'' now syndicated on more than 30 public radio stations in cities across the country.) Evening shows like Jason Bentley's dance-and-electronica-oriented Metropolis, and Tom Schnabel's and Chris Douridas's wide-ranging weekend programs, all combine to give the station a playlist that's full of surprises. Along the way, these D.J.'s and others at the station have become music supervisors (basically song pickers) for film and television soundtracks and commercials.
Harcourt has been a particular champion of raising KCRW's profile. The station has sponsored and held more and more music events in Los Angeles, and in the last year or so, has done the same in San Francisco and New York. The idea is that as commercial radio has become increasingly timid, canned and predictable, there is an opportunity for a station like KCRW to leverage its tastemaker status. And while satellite radio is providing one alternative, it's built on the idea of restricting your tastes one genre at a time. So stations like KCRW (along with Philadelphia's WXPN and its syndicated ''World Cafe'' show, and a few others, like WFUV in the Bronx) are now crucial to idiosyncratic bands like Brazilian Girls, the smaller record labels that promote them and the music consumers who want to be surprised.
The Brazilian Girls, a kind of house band for the East Village club Nublu, made an EP last year that found its way to Harcourt. Their music got a lot of KCRW airplay and even earned them a live set on ''Morning Becomes Eclectic.'' They have an album coming out on Verve. According to Jill Weindorf at the label, early promotional posters include a blurb from Harcourt. ''Because of the dot-com following, and some of the music supervision he's done, he's actually becoming a name that even a consumer would recognize,'' she says, noting that she has seen Harcourt quotations on CD stickers as well. ''KCRW is starting to be a brand that means cool.''

E-mail: consumed@nytimes.com.

This was the week of weird stories.
(Disclaimer: You must be 18 or older to read beyond this point, or at least be more than a complete idiot. Do NOT try any of the following at home)

This includes the following:

Souls are now apparently on sale on E-Bay . . . for $8.67 . . . according to a recent search I just did on Yahoo! Don't believe me, check for yourself. What's that say about our economy now? or the state of our souls? Just don't ask what I was looking for. . . and don't try selling your soul on E-Bay.

My cousin went to take care of a deceased uncle's affairs this past fall and came back with an unusual photo. I saw it Sunday. It may just be sunlight on the sidewalk, or something reflected in a window. I'm not sure what it really is , but it will doubtlessly prove to be a cool classroom aid, especially in conjunction with reading this poem by T. S. Eliot. I need to call my cousin and ask him if he's willing to let me share it on my fotolog.

My friend (we'll call him Crag Bluff) told me about a game called 'phonebook.'
Don't play this game.
Apparently the object of the game 'phonebook' is to drink a shot of whiskey and then bap your pal up the backside of the head with a phonebook. Then you switch places. Crag Bluff and friend apparently made it 18 rounds last week before calling it a day. I don't think they did 18 shots of whiskey. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you hyperbole. This is kinda like the game where you put a lump of soap in a sock and then swing it at your friend's ribs... Don't play this game, either.

Meaning no disrespect to any parties involved, especially those on the highest authority, I made a slight modification to my roommate's bike. He got said bike from a guy named Mike. I preface this bit with a disclaimer for those who may become upset: The 2nd of 10 commandments says not to make graven images of gods, or God himself. So... at sometime before giving the bike to my roommate, Mike put a bunch of tattoo stickers and a figure of Jesus from a crucifix on the handlebars of his bike.
I don't know why.
What I do know, is that made the handle bars really loose. There was a big screw going into His back to hold Him on the handlebars and hold the handlebars onto the bike frame. You could tighten an eyebolt on the other side of the handlebars to keep them steady, tight, and together, but soon that failed to work, making the bike dangerous to operate. So I had to take the figure of Our Lord off the handlebars of this bike. I didn't have the heart to tighten the big screw in his back, and figuring He'd been through enough already, I just took Him down. In his place, I put a newish 1/4" bolt with washers and a nut to hold the handles together.
It's now safe to operate this vehicle.
The Figure was in my toolbox and is now in the basement on a cushion. In the right light, He looks like He's tanning on the beach. Meaning no disespect to any of the parties involved, especially those in the highest authority, I'll return said Figurine to my roommate whenever he comes home (My roommate that is).

Today, the spacecraft Huygen made a landing on Titan, Saturn's largest moon. It took some cool photos, and a guy outside of the Blue Note at 19th & Carson St with a high powered telescope set up on the sidewalk had printouts of these photos. He also was letting people check out Saturn. how cool was that? It's onlythe second time I've seen Saturn in my life. It looked like a wihite circle witha white dot inthe middle of it. The bright dot beside it was Titan. You can't see the Huygen space probe through the telescope, though. Not even after a few martinis. Speaking of which, you can have a drink called 'cosmonaut:' it's vodka mixed with Tang. i learned this ata friend of a friend's party to commemorate the Huygen landing. Folks wore tin foil hats and played DDR, the video game with dance pads imported from Singapore. The list of 'things' that came up at the end of the evening, which included a 'rusty trombone' and 'bad dog', I won't print here. I will print the new nickname i've been given: Star Crunch.

I replaced two of the handles on my car doors recently, both on the passenger side. The front one I did a few weeks ago, and then had to redo again this week. The rear door hadn't opened in close to 2 years, and I opened it succesfully yesterday, replaced the handle. It's at about 75% functionality. We'll go for a ride sometime and I'll explain what I mean. While replacing the handle, some guy walking by asked me a fir a cigarette. And then another for the road, ya know cuz he'll need one now and one later, especially after leaving Red and Irene's. Right. Silly me, I ignored the fading daylight and obliged him. Then I watched him walk away and talk with a couple gathering signatures for a petition. When they came to talk with me, I saw that he signed the wrong date. I guess I may have done the same in his situation.

The group or band called The Innocence Mission are awesome. Their lead vocalist Karen is simply as beautiful as her simply beautiful voice, sounding much like Harriet Wheeler, the woman from The Sundays. Apparently Kathy Jo thinks they rock, too, as I saw something about them on her living room wall the other day.

Sometimes a nickname appears, and disappears. Sometimes a nickname sticks.

Telephone conversations suck only slightly less than emails.

"What is it about the Steelers' success that makes people say, 'Where's my kazoo?' " - Gene Collier. A pretty good article in the NY Times today about us Pittsburgh folks and our belvoed Steelers. It's accurate, at least in a way that says we can take pride in the Steelers. I don't own a kazoo though, and hopefully won't get one anytime soon. Then I'd have to write the 21st bad Steelers song of the season.

In other news: Dog hit by car turns out to be man in costume. Man's life saved by costume.
Teacher news: Funny, but not funny.
Odd news: Careful what you say.

Queston of the the day: What the heck's all of Canada doing with no hockey, eh?
Question a Canadian asked me one day: What word do you Yanks have for "eh," eh?
Asshat question I have for asshat vegetarians: If God didn't want us to eat meat, why does it taste so good?

soon to come; gatsby review. had it done, looked good, disappeared. how pissed am I?

the Real Santa Claus was 5'6 and Turkish. . .

There is a very cool series of brief articles in this week's NY Times magazine: The Year's Best Ideas A-Z. Stuff about the best way to skip a stone, a new take on a serious education issue, translucent concrete, some gross jewelry that we're bound to see, and a bunch of other wierd and cool stuff to check out. So do!

Ladies and Gentlemen: Whiplash the Rodeo Monkey. Click the link in the article to see the pictures...

Today we'll discuss the flying lawn mower.

Death by Flying Lawn Mower

Video of a Flying Lawn Mower

Are they good or are they bad? You decide for yourself.

Here's a cool page of MP3s, that's worth going to check out here and there. Maybe you'll find something cool like this live version of The White Stripes doing "Jolene." Just scroll down a little ways and you're sure to find it.

Here's a player for the new Wilco album, A Ghost is Born. It's pretty good stuff. I dig 'Hummingbird" a whole lot. These guys are consistently solid songwriters. They also have a new interview on KCRW . . . check the sidelines here to the right for the link. Jeff Tweedy sounds a little like the '70s John Lennon here, too. Wilco has links to a coupla other bands that are cool, like The Autumn Defense. Some good music there.

Jon Spenser's Blues Explosion. These guys are the ultimate "get-up-outta-that hole" band. They're high energy, fast, rollickin' and damn proud of their name. It appears about a dozen times on every album. I wouldn't have it any other way. These guys have a new album out, too: Damage.

Hey Mario, can you work some of your charm and magic to get our boys back out on the ice?
I think folks around these parts are starting to really miss their hockey. I know I am. I may not follow the Penguins as fervently as I do our beloved Steelers, but after a while, you notice it's gone. I've noticed lots of dedicated Pens fans though (Melczak: "GO PENS!!!"), who are still wearing their gear about town. Pride yourselves dedicated Pens fans . . . Pride yourselves.

Ok, this is pretty cool, and must've been designed with the blind in mind.

Speegle, is like Google, but it speaks the results to you. Pretty sweet, and kinda funny when you type in a search query like "pillow fights" . . . Anyways, I think this has opened up the internet for the blind. Pretty cool!

Dude, you've got to go read this article. You probably know everything in it already, but that's OK, dude... will this Unit Plan ever finish?

Oh, and here's the trailer for Life Aquatic. I want to see Wes Anderson's new movie in the worst way, but it doens' come out in these parts until Christmas Day.

Squirreled away in my attic room, I'm desperately trying to finish my Great Gatsby unit plan. It's due Tuesday. Lollygagging is not good for deadlines, but even so the lolly will be gagged... if only for just a moment. I'm enjoying a fast connection from home, and finding that if I had this a week ago even, I wouldve been much farther along with this unit plan than I am.

OK. Enough of that. On to more sober topics like this poet, from the 1920s who was rather fond of his Martinis. Apparently he and his wife sometimes took their Martinis in a cemetery, and there's a great story here about when they ran out of ice. It's somewhat reminescent of the day after Curt's bachelor party: We awoke late Sunday morning after Curt's bachelor party, and after negotiating the operational mechanics of an odd contraption called 'the Big Ragu' (formerly called 'the fishbowl' ), we headed into the outside world for some brunch at Tom's Diner. It was late July, and the noon time sun shone brilliantly. Blindingly. Dazzlingly. I squinted and my eyes still hurt. As we walked out my front door and down the sidewalk I could only look at the sidewalk, wishing that I knew where my sunglasses were. Everybody else had theirs on.
"I really wish I had a pair of sunglasses," I said aloud, when squinting at the sidewalk, was a pair of sunglasses! I blinked, and blinked again. Bent over and picked up the shades, put them on my face and turned to my firends. "Look, I found a pair of sunglasses! I was just saying, i really wish i had a pair of sunglasses, and POW! there's a pair on the sidewalk right in front of me!" what really amazed me was how UN-impressed my companions were. Sorta like I had jsut seen a cloud in the sky, found it remarkable, and said so. "yup . . . " was the only resposnes I got, but there they were. Sometimes it's just like that.

I just shared a picture you may like, some of you for your own reasons, with Mikey Mel.

I had this moment, just a moment ago, where I was wondering what today's date was, and so I looked at the date/time thing in the lower right hand corner of my screen: Thursday, November 18, 2004. 11:18 AM . . . Hoo doggies . . . gotta like when that happens right?

Enjoy the Great American Smoke Out day. It's today, 11/18. I'll be sure to share that with all the smokers I encounter today, and then we'll laugh, maybe cough a little, gasp and chuckle.

And now, a poetry for you . . . we used this in my drama class about a month ago.

The Smoking Yokadokas
by Jack Prelutsky

We’re the Smoking Yokadokas,
we sincerely need to smoke,
and we do not mind the slightest
that our smoking makes you choke,
our malodorous miasma
will assail you when we’re near,
it will irritate your nostrils
and compel your eyes to tear.

We’re the Smoking Yokadokas,
we’re not nice to have around,
you can often hear us coughing,
it’s a coarse and raucous sound,
all our teeth are brown and yellow,
and our breath is always stale,
we’re especially offensive
at the moment we exhale.

Our appearance is unsightly,
we have ashes on our clothes,
our aroma is appalling,
you may have to hold your nose,
but don’t waste your time complaining
we contaminate the air,
we’re the Smoking Yokadokas,
and we simply do not care.


Text copyright © 1990 by Jack Prelutsky. Used by permission of HarperCollins Publishers.
©2002, American Heart Association. Permission granted to reproduce for classroom use.

Cannibal Stoudt

It's not available in stores, bars or beer distributors yet, but it's out there. I was hanging out with a friend from class for her birthday, and Amanda and her boyfriend Frank enjoy ;making homebrew. THeir friend however stepped it up a notch. Cannibal Stoudt apparently is made with yeast grown in human kidneys? Something odd like that, a scientific yeast used in human studies, or something. It's not the actual human cells yer drinking, so it's safe, at least I think it is . . . anyways, I tried some of this beer, and it was actually quite palatable. The coolest thing though, was the mini-tap that fits on top of wide mouth bottles. THis way you can have a gallon sized mini keg of beer, ya know homebrews, and keep it very fresh with this tap. Nothing worse than openign a big beer and having it go flat on you befor eyou get halfway through it. I'll get back to you with more details about the human yeast kidney thing. Wierd though, eh?

Painting by Numbers, a la Holden Caulfield.

I hated paint by numbers when I was a kid.

Not because I didn't enjoy doing them, in fact I had never even tried. I just thought that if you couldn't draw or paint, that a thing like paint by numbers was stupid, and you could totally tell how dumb the person was who did one. I hated paint by numbers. It was't even real painting, right? It's phony. It took no skill whatsoever. I would see paint-by-numbers in the toy section of the pharmacy or whatever and thought, who even does those? They're stupid.

Somebody gave me a paint-by-numbers set for a birthday present or something when I was 9 or 10. It sat on a shelf in my closet for a year or two, and I would think, why do I keep that thing? I hate paint by numbers. Then one evening, I was bored and I thought, OK, I'll find out just how dumb this stuff really is. I opened the box on my shelf, saw that there were brushes, two plastic arrays of paints, maybe ten or fifteen colors total? I dunno. And there were four or five 'canvases' with the outlines of some picture, numbers that corresponded to paints in the array trays, so you put color #7 on all the little spots that were marked ' 7.' So I started with a picture of a cowboy riding on a horse in the low desert. There were cactuses and scrub brush in the distance. It took a few hours over a few days to finish the whole thing, not letting the colors bleed over into the other number spaces.

The finished project looked sloppy. The horse's mane was kinda tough to master, because it had so many similar clors and it was hard to get enough but not tooo much paint in one little flourish of mane hair, and not have it blend with the others. So I thought, well, even though these are dumb, I'm gonna do another one, and I'll do it better than this last one. I tried using different colors, but that looked dumb. I ignored some of the spaces, and did what I wanted in others. This went on until I had finished all five of the paint by number canvases in the box. Then I had five pictures that were . . . OK . . . and what do I do with these things now? Roll my eyes at them and think how dumb paint by numbers is, at least now I've done them to be able to say they're dumb? Hmmm. I had enjoyed some of the painting, and because I enjoyed it, I couldn't say I hated paint by numbers anymore. I just thought they were still kinda stupid, even if they give you some experience painting stuff.

So more than like likely if you are reading this, you went and voted. There's apparently a 50/50 or should I say 49/51 chance that you voted for Kerry. I have to say though, I am satisfied with my fellow voters, my fellow Americans, because you went and voted. This election garnered record turnouts here in Pennsylvania, apparently not seen since the Kennedy/Nixon election in 1960 did we see sucha turnout.

I was on the fence for a long time, mostly hoping that Nader would get on the ballot. I still want to see an outsider, a maverick come out and shake up the two-party system, but alas, alack, Alanis Morisette, it was not to be for ol' Ralphie . . . blocked of the PA ballot. I have a long digression about what happened there, but I'll save that for when I'm powerfully intoxicated. Anyways, I suppose I am a 'pocketbook' voter, going with my future as a teacher, and Kerry's Education Plans seemed a bit better than Bush's No Child LEft Behind. A good idea, if you bother to pay for it, but . . . well, he didn't.

I've heard a few folks say that they see a possible return to a political/social climate like the '60s, and maybe we will see that. There are a few parallels (go go Go-Go boots!!!) but I hope that the people of this nation are more about unity in the face of the adversity, than dissension. Speak your voice, but keep your fists in your words.

And on a note to lighten the tone, some news about traveling. I myself will be flying to Minnesota this weekend, but I'm not going to try flying this way...

You should give this player a listen: Kings of Convenience .

You can play one song at a time, but the whole album is on there. I've heard a few other songs they've done, but this good: the music and vocals are pretty solid. They're sorta like a SImon/Garfunkel or Chad/Jeremy sound, ya know the chill, slightly hep to jazz sorta tunes from the mid to late sixties . . .

Did you have a good weekend?

I sure did... I drove up near Brookville, PA to meet all the cabin campers Friday night. We stayed in very nice cabins (meaning they had gas furnaces, and were kinda like somebody's home). The fire was awesome, as usual. Saturday afternoon, I went with Marty and Renee to check out the fire tower #9, the scenic overlook, and some trail stuff. the fire tower was pretty cool cuz you go up above the tree level and then some. Renee brought her digital camera and got some pretty cool pictures. I think a digital camera would be pretty sweet to have. The weather was good for the most part, except for some rain late late Saturday night.
Driving home was the only tough part... I was so sleepy, so sleepy. SO ... sleepy... but I made it back alright.

Hey folks -

Not too much going on here. Settling in for a good weekend of cabin camping in Cook's forest. I missed last year, for some reason I dont remember. For those of you who will be around a fast connection this weekend, check out Magnet and Helio Sequence: http://www.kcrw.org/cgi-bin/db/kcrw.pl?show_code=mb&air_date=10/14/04&tmplt_type=show These guys are pretty good sounding, kinda chill . . . A little electro-effect-emo-rock and then a lot of electro-electronica rock respectively. I'm looking forward to hearing Elliot Smith's posthumous album, From a Basement on a Hill. Not like I'm trying to solve the mystery of his death, I just always liked his music. I'm sad that we've lost such a talented songwriter with a personal sense of style that powerfully evocative. The disc should be arriving in the mail today or tomorrow.

What happened to the Viceland Do's and Don'ts? they used to be really funny, but now they're becoming so predictable, it's like comparing the Cheat's cartoons with like the reality of Strongbadia.

The challenge for today? writing up an appropriate lesson using creative dramatics to teach Chief Joseph's Speech.

I've been carrying the Camel Shorties (aka filterless) since I saw Dan Brown and Dave Flick at Nadines Tuesday. Danno pulled the wrong lever on the cig machine there, and POW! out came the Camel shorties. They're a little harsh, no not terrible, but defintiely strong. You only need one for every three light cigarettes, so it'll be nice to get a new pack of my regular smokes. Oh, did I mention the attractive bar tender at Nadines? I wouldn't chase a bartender, no matter how hot she is, but it's nice to have a friendly hottie deliver you a cold beer. And they seem to have no short supply of attractive bartenders.

I hope I'll remember a couple 40s and brown paper bags... three years ago, I raced Buckethead in a 40s race. . . and won. Way it works? open your 40 in the bag, twist the top of the bad around the bottle neck, so you have no idea (visually) how much beer is in the bottle. Then you drink. At intervals (barely regulated), you check your level vs. your opponents. It';s a good game if yer not driving anywhere that night. And Booyah, when you're camping, you're setting for a while.

I hope everybody has a good weekend, and I'll catch yinz on the flipside.

The Shady Weekend

This weekend was a little shady... in that I left South Side, and hungout with some work/school folks in Shady Side Friday night. Saturday night? I went to see a band called Shade for their CD release party. My right ear is still gakked up and I can't hear well out of it . . . advice: bring earplugs to a show... especially if yer friend likes to stand up close...

Just a quick note to remind you of the show coming up. Emphasis on show... the Presidential Candidate Debates, minus the elephants, clowns and midgets will be running soon.

Hey if you like Bush or Kerry, bully for you. Go vote for them. It's what you should do. But bear in mind, if only for a second, that the 2000 Presidential Candidate Debates excluded some major candidates, who even tried to come debate the candidates anyways. OF course I'm speaking about Ralph Nader. He didn't have a role to play in the script, so they made him leave. Turned him away. Get lost, they said.

Oh, and my vote for Nader? It was a vote for Nader. Not anybody else. :P

One more thing. THere's an article here about voters being turned away. Not surprisingly, they're minority voters. In response to this article, I'd like to say I'm proud of the people who have consistently been out getting people registered to vote. They are mostly black people, getting blacks, whites, and anybody who's a citizen registered to vote. They've always been polite, and enthusiastic. Not o;verbearing, but they make it apparent that this election, as all elections, counts for something. And so does your vote. Thanks to all of you folks who are drumming up voters. I'm impressed with this city and their voters. Thanks Pittsburgh!

Today is the first day of new stuff: a new job and new classes. I'm working as a GSA (Graduate Student Asst.) in the School of Ed and taking my last three classes. I still have to find out what's up with my student teaching, and this afternoon or tomorrow would be a great time to do all that. The bookstore doesn't have ANY of my books yet. I hope they come in, or perhaps that none of my classes will use texts. Right. Like that's gonna happen. It;s a bit wierd coming back after a stretch of time off, but it's pretty cool to get back into a more focused mode of living life.

Summer is on the wind down, but there's still some cool stuff happening. If nothing else, the presidential elections and stuff leading up to them should be fascinating to watch. That's all for now, so all you cats keep cool.

Oh how time flies when you're not blogging. I was a regular blogger, until I left my old job and started school. Honestly, there was little to post, unless if you wanted to know about grammar and such. You may be better off buying yourself a Warriner's then, but Max Morenberg has a good grammar book. Yeppers, starting to look like a teacher has been here . . .

OK, well other news.

Joe Hartnett and Megan Kelly got married, and should be back from Aruba sometime soonish...

Got to meet Kris Kelly's husband Jeff at the wedding. The wedding was totally fun by the way.

Got to hang out with the Seybert Family (Josh, Jesse and Jake) last week.

Made $2.06 busking last Saturday.

Meredith is off to Minneapolis in a couple weeks. Gonna miss her, but she's got a great opportunity ahead of her there.

Jim has moved out, and Marty Connolly has moved in to the place.

Oh yeah . . . and the Hookah Bars in South Side are pretty friggin cool! At least the one I've been to is cool. H-Kan in the 2200 block of Carson St. two doors up from Lava Lounge is cool spot to hang out. Especially if you want to be out, but not necessarily in a bar. It's like the beehive but different. They'll have food soon, and I hope they expand their drink menu. Stay non-alcoholic, or BYOB rather, I'll pay my "corking fee" but you need to get more than four types of tea. I have more than four types of tea in my house, and I don't consider myself a tea drinker. Four kinds of coffee, well sure.

I'll cut them some slack though... They've been open for four months, maybe five now, they're mostly focused on renovations, and getting something like a restaurant started to compliment the smoke. So picture this: some middle eastern food, then sit and enjoy a post dinner smoke of say, rose and jasmine or lemon or caramel smoke. It's not pot... ok? So many people, er dweebles, or whatever, walk by outside, hey nice bong man... some people never fail to not impress me. Anyways, go check out the H-Kan, it's pretty chill. bring a friend, maybe some beers. The staff is way friendly, atmosphere is chill. And Curt, you can smoke your cloves there. I think you'd dig it.

Books I've read: The Golem, Gustav Meyrink; Eats, Shoots and Leaves, Lynne Truss; Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? Philip K Dick.

A good weekend overall folks. Yes, good overall.

Friday: Played some soccer at the Cost Center on Campus. I'm a bit rusty, and in need of some better turf shoes (I just bought some cleats!!!), but they do have indoor soccer too! YAY!!! Went to a luau at Dave and Casey's new place in Swissvale, pretty swankity guys. The idea was to dress Hawaiian, prizes given for best costume and such. I borrowed a lei, a big fake butt and grass skirt from Meredith, donned a black haired wig.
I was NOT trying to go drag.
I was going for the long-haired Hawaiian-dude look. Are there such creatures? If so, everyone there was apparently unawares. I figured the hairy chest would be sufficient, but I won best dressed female, was given cardboard hula girl, and a coconut bra. anyways it was lots of fun if nothing else.

Saturday: Got some rusty spots on my car worked on, painted and stuff... I hope they hold. Next is to get the handles fixed. Like three of them. I remember Dave telling me about having troubles with his Passat.

Dave (LaRose?) from Jack had a BYI party with about ten of us showing up. I brought the accordion and mandolin.

Sunday (Fathers dAy): This was the first one without my Dad, but all said and done, it went alright. I do miss him.

I have my basic agenda worked out for the next year: school thi ssummer and fall part-time. work part-time. Student teach in the spring. Get the certification and hopefully land a teaching job next fall. huh . . . next fall.

In lighter news, here's a little about the culture of Dude

go away for a week, and what happens?

Ronald Reagan dies, then Ray Charles dies . . .

but, there is good news: Movies in the park have started again.

My weekend in Gallup, NM was lots of fun, and this past week in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic was way way way fun. You can go really cheaply, stay cheaply and eat and drink cheaply. The people are all pretty friendly, and the country is really quite beautiful. I got a pretty good tan, although I'm afraid it's fading already!!!

If you do go, I recommend taking the Outback Safari Tours. Well worth the $$$ because you see a lot, learn a lot and have lots of fun. Our tour guide and driver, Greg and Sosa respectively, were awesome! I think it's standard on the tour to get served rum and 7 Up and/or some beers.

Getting ready to travel to Punta Cana, Domincan Republic.

Got my new swimming trunks, sunblock, aloe gel for sundried skin, clothes packed up, pretty much set to go.

I'll have some pics, keep your fingers crossed for more sun than rain. Right now it's looking like the other way around...

Visit the anagram page, and discover new stuff in your name:

Half of this is GIBBERISH, but Here are some cool ones for Matthew Dunegan -

A WANTED GENT HUM
A WANTED MEN THUG (Better look out!)
A WANED TENTH MUG
A WANED TENTH GUM
A TANDEM WET HUNG
A MANNED WET THUG
A GNAWED TENT HUM
A WANTED GEM HUNT
A WANTED MEG HUNT
A WANTED GENT HUM
A WANTED THEN MUG
A DAG THEN WENT MU
A DAG THEN NEWT MU
A DANG WHEEN MUTT (what did you call me?)
A HAD TEN WENT MUG
A HAD TEN WENT GUM
A HAD TEN NEWT MUG
A HAD TEN NEWT GUM
A HAD TENT NEW MUG
A HAD TENT NEW GUM
A HAND NUTMEG WET
A HADNT GWEN MUTE
A HADNT GET NEW MU
A WHATD GUNMEN ET
A WHATD NUTMEG NE
A WHATD NUGENT EM
A WHATD NUGENT ME
A MAD NUGENT WHET
A WHATD EM TEN GUN
A WHATD ME NET GUN
A MAD GENT HEW NUT
A MAD GENT NEW HUT
A MAD GENT WET HUN
A MAD GENT WE HUNT (paranoid much?)
A MAD GET WENT HUN
A MAD GET NEWT HUN
A MAD GET NEW HUNT
A MAD THEN NEW GUT
A MAD THEN NEW TUG
A MAD THEN WET GUN
A MAD THEN WE TUNG
A MAD TENTH WE GUN
A MAD HEWN TEN GUT
A MAD HEWN TEN TUG
A MAD HEWN NET GUT
A MAD HEWN NET TUG
A MAD TENT WE HUNG (Camping)
A DAM THEN WET GNU
A DAM THEN WET GUN
A DAM THEN WE TUNG
A DAM TEN WENT UGH
A DAM NET WENT UGH
A DAMN HEWETT GNU
A DAMN HEWETT GUN
A DAMN TWEEN THUG
A DAMN TWEET HUNG (penis size ? )
A DAMN GET WET HUN
A DAMN HE WENT GUT
A DAMN THE NEW GUT (mad about getting fat!)
A DAMN THE NEW TUG
A DAMN THE WET GNU
A DAMN THE WET GUN
A DAMN TENT WE HUG (lonely campers)
A WAND THEME TUNG
A WAND THE MEN TUG (masturbation)
A TAD WHEN MEN TUG
A WAD THEN MEN TUG (masturbation)
A TANGENT DEW HUM
A ANTHEM DUNG WET (Diarrhea song)
A HANG MUTED WENT
A HANG MUTED NEWT
A HANG MUD TENT WE
A WHANG NUTTED ME
A GUNMAN WHETTED
A TANG UNWED THEM (the girl that caused the divorce)
A GNAT MUTED WHEN
A GNAT UNWED THEM (or was it a bug?)
A WANG MUTED THEN (divorced men not getting any ... )
A WANG TUNED THEM (magical musical manhood)
A TAG WED MEN HUNT (label whores ... )
A HAM END NEWT GUT
A HAM END NEWT TUG
A HAM NUTTED GWEN (But she liked jim anyways ... )
A MATH NUDGE NEWT (always needed help with math... )
A MATH UNWED GENT (never did like artihmetic much ... )
A WHAM NEEDNT GUT (Some Advice)
A WHAM NEEDNT TUG ( " " )
A WHAM NEEDNT GUT ( " " )
A WHAM NEEDNT TUG ( " " )
A WHAM DUNG TENET (Shitty Philosophy)
A HAT DUNG ME WENT (drunken mistake)
A MAN DEW THEN TUG (
A MAN WED THEN GUT
A MAN WED THEN TUG
A MAW HUNTED GENT
A WANTED MEN THUG (again, best lookout for me)
HEADMAN WENT GUT
HEADMAN WENT TUG
HEADMAN NEWT GUT
HEADMAN NEWT TUG
HEADMAN WET TUNG
MAGNATE DEW HUNT
MEGAWATT HED NUN (Electric Sisters!)
WET HANGMAN DUET
HANGMAN DU TWEET (Bathroom Graffiti)
HANGMAN DU ET WET (Bumper sticker)
NATHAN TWEED MUG
NATHAN DE WET MUG
NATHAN DE WET GUM
NATHAN WED ME GUT
NATHAN DUG EM WET
NATHAN DUG ME WET
AD ANTHEM WET GUN
AD MEANT WENT HUG
AD TEAM WENT HUNG
AD MEAT WHEN TUNG
AD MEAT WENT HUNG
THE WET GUNMAN AD
THE NEW MAN GUT AD
THE NEW MAN TUG AD
TEAMED WANG HUNT (Bachelorette party)
EGAD WHAT MEN NUT
AGED MUTANT WHEN
AGED ANT WENT HUM
AGED WANT THEM NU (may december relations??)
MUTANT WE HANGED
HANGED TAUNT MEW
MUTE WANT HANGED
HANGED WATT MENU
GNAWED AT MEN HUT (Sounds gay ... )
WAGED AMENT HUNT (helped madge find her future hubby)
WAGED HUMAN TENT
THE NUT WAGED MAN (my current job)
ME HAUNTED TWANG (ghostly country songs)
DEATH TWANG MENU
DEATH WANG UNMET
DEATH MAN WET GUN
DEATH MAN WE TUNG
DEATH WANT ME GUN

And that's all i care to look at . . .

Here's a pretty cool video for teh song, Come Together.

And speaking of which, it was pretty cool to get together with Curt out in Gallup, NM.

Got to visit the Painted Desert, Petrified Forest (which is in the same huge park). Saw El Morro, which is a big bluff with some cool carvings on the sides, and some Indian ruins (Anasazi and Navajo?) on the top.

For those of you who dig fleamarkets, there;s a cool one in Gallup on Saturdays if yer ever out there.

Curt and Ann have a pretty sweet house, very colorful (Ro would be proud . . . ), with a deck out in the back, some swanky new furniture. The sad part of the trip was learning that poor ol' Buddha, probably the most chill cat I ever met, has since passed. He was much loved.

Some figures to think about in the formation of the west:

Geronimo, Quanah Parker, and Chief Manuelito.

Update from Gallup, NM

Flights in: ok. and good. always nice to have your sense of hearing once you land.

It's true.... it is a desert out here. I've seen cactuses. for really real.

and salsa

and some rocks.

No for real, toallay having funhere i gallup. it's awesome to hang with curt again. tooo bad ann isn't her. at least she's in italy though

oh yeah,i guess what can you use butt paste for? more than you'd imagine!

Courtesy . . . is it pase' these days?

What ever happened to replying to your friend's emails? Understandable if you won't respond to SPAMMERS, but what about your friends?
Your silence is equivalent to saying, "I'll email you when I am hard up for an erection, when I need to enlarge my breasts, or when I need a get-out-of-debt service."

Let me give you an example: This past January a 'friend' (notice the quotes?) sends me an email around the same time that my father passed away. They are of course oblivious to what's just happened in my life. "How are you? what's been going on? It's been a while, and it'd be great to talk with you, can't wait to hear all about the things you've been doing!" writes this person. So I respond with my news: My father's just passed, going through a lot but making it OK. How are you?"

And they wrote back: Nothing. Nada. Zippo. Zilch.

Now, to this person's credit, three months later, I got an e-birthday-card from said person. It read nothing more than 'happy birthday,' with a picture of a teddy bear holding some balloons or something. In January I suppose that person didn't know how to respond, what to say, etc.

But really, they should know.
Everybody should know (but especially someone who has also lost someone close, as they did. These are the people who surprised me the most . . . ).

When somebody has a significant life change, be it a birth, graduation, vacation, engagement, marriage, or death or whatever, you SAY SOMETHING to acknowledge said event, even if it sounds trite:
"Great to hear about your new kid!"
"Congrats on your graduation!"
"Good luck on the game show!"
"Hope all goes well with yer wedding plans!"
"I wish you the best in life together with your new spouse!"
"So sorry to hear about your Dad."

And when someone acknowledges this event/thing/whatever, you respond in kind, usually by saying "thank you."

When someone gives you a gift or a present, you say "Thank you" as well.

For the sake of these people who are consistently lacking in their manners and courtesy, I shall not list their crimes against courtesy nor shall I name them. Nor do I beg clemency from these misdemeanors. I am just reminding you, as I am reminded myself.

It is simple common courtesy.

*******************************************

On a lighter note, let me introduce you to Gunther. Listen to his song, and watch his video

Happy Birthday, Mr. T !!!

I went to the hardware store with Jim Hee last week, and vaguely recall seeing a short blonde chick and rocker type guy crossing the street as Jim was hitting the ATM on 18th and Carson. Ok, a not too uncommon sight in South Side, though eh? True enough, but Jim thought that she looked a lot like Drew Barrymore, and sounded kinda like her. He thought, nahhh couldn't be. Apparently the Strokes were in town last Thursday night, and apparently that guy who drums for them (who probably dresses like a rocker?) is dating Drew Barrymore. And after the concert, they went to Dee's. I helped Danielle take down the stuff set up in Art Space 303 last night and then went out to Pipers for beers.

In other news: Just one more reason why you should never do crack . . .

Every quadreplegic should have a monkey . . . I mean that with all due respect, but I'd think the breed of monkey is most important.

I'm getting stoked about travel plans,but a little worried that being away may hurt me in the job search. Keep yer fingers crossed for me . . . !

In the mean time, don't let yer kid leave his bike by the elephants

Starbucks has created an official entertainment position. My job search at the university is plodding along, although more slowly than I'd like it...

In more important news, are girls wearing sweaters around the hips a lot (ass sweaters)? or is this a Canadian thing? I haven't noticed it, but again it's almost summery out now!

this weekend was pretty cool. got some tix booked for my two vacay trips: Gallup, NM and Punta Cana, DR (Dominican Republic). friday night, i saw neko case at the world, and she rocked the house. what a voice, what... a ... voice...! Saturday, i went ot see Gabby and Autumn do their last show (how many last shows can people do? i thought only the Crawling Low Band did every show as their last show ... ) at the Gemini Theater. Sunday softball was excellent. And I watched The Whole Nine Yards last night after getting my first chocolate malt for the season from the Page Dairy Mart.

Today is Sea Monkey Apreciation Day! and how I wish I had known that yesterday, cuz we were talking a lot about sea monkeys...

This is the story of the cat with hands . . .

Apparently Blogger has been buys over the weekend.

Everybody is glad it's spring, and some folks are feeling their sap rising, so to speak. This is fine and natural, sometimes pleasant even. What is unpleasant is when people ignore boundaries. like the guy who accosted me this morning.

I'm on my way to work, almost to my building and i see this tall middle-aged guy, combover with glasses in a suit and tie approaching the other way. He looks like someone I know from the business school, so i nod to him, ahhh but then he speaks and I know it's not the guy I know from the business school. the dialog went something like this:

Strange man: "hey how are ya?"
Me: "Hi, I'm fine thanks..." and nod.
Strange Man: "You look really nice today, very spring-like ... "
Me (somewhat befuddled): "thanks... "
Strange Man: "how'd ya come to wear that outfit?"
thinking better of saying what immediately came to mind, Oh, my mother dresses me each morning, i simply said,
"I got up and got dressed, like i do every day."
Strange Man: "well you look so nice, like you'd cheer anybody up on a dreary day like today."
Me: "hhmmm ... "
Strange Man: "Where you off to?"
Me: "Work. I work right there." (I point to my building)
Strange Man: "Where do you live? here inPittsburgh?"
Me: "Yes"
strange Man: "Did you grow up here?"
Me: "Yes."
Strange Man: "Oh, really? Wherebouts?"
ME: "South Hills"
SM: " I know the South Hills, where?"
Me (I'm becoming a bit uncomfortable): "Mt. Lebanon" (I start feeling like i've given out way too much information to a stranger)
SM: "Oh it's very nice there. Did you go to High School there?'
Me (now definitely uncomfortable): "Yes."
SM: "Well, you look like must've graduated about 10 years ago. what are you, say 28 or 30?"
Me (Now quite uncomfortable): "Sure... something like that."
SM: "Say what's that you've got in your pocket? (Indicating my left pants pocket) Your wallet? your cell phone?" (And then he reaches over and tap-tap-taps the box of cigarettes n my pocket).
Me: "Cigarettes." (this, to my great joy, seemed to disgust him)

And at this point i've become so very uncomfortable, not only with the whole conversation but even just being near said Strange Man, and tell him:
Me: "I'm going to work now. Goodbye." And walked away.
Strange Man: "It was nice to meet you." and I continue walking nod and smile and dash across the street and into my building.

Let me be clear: I do not hate people who are old, gay, or Jewish (he was wearing a Yamuka (sp?) ). But I do feel awkward, flattered or not, when another man hits on me. Especially so when he gets in my personal space, and very very awkward when he reaches to touch me anywhere near my mid-section/crotch areas. I dont have a problem with walking away from an uncomfortable situation. I did not slug him, though I had thought about it.

My advice is two-fold . . .

1. Be polite, but don't be afraid to ask someone who suddenly asks you questions, tons of 'em, why they want to know so much about you. I should've asked him that, but i think I knew the answer already.

2. if you're trying to flirt with someone or pick them up, it's better to say something about yourself in additon to your barrage of Questions, rather than to interrogate them. Interrogation tends to make people feel like they're being interrogated, and like your up to something. If you feel like your being interogaed, feel free to ask, "What are you up to?" or "What's the point of all this?" If you're trying to pick someone up, dont get in their personal space, and DO NOT touch them, especially anywhere remotely near a personal zone. You're destined for failure and perhaps a black eye, broken nose or lawsuit . . .

A Dutch website dedicated to Air Guitar . . .

Hey, I'm looking to take some time off at the end of May, something like an extendo weekend . . . any suggestions for a trip? any takers on a road trip maybe? anybody want to go with? drop me a line and let me know what you think . . . .

So apparently rules #1 and #2 have been broken, but there is a Girl's Fight Club

What is this? Starbucks is bucking up to responsibility?

"Hey, Bob, working this flight undercover again? Let's hope it's a nice flight, eh?"

Open mic night at the Rex was kinda quiet, but it was cool to hang out with Marty and Madge and Renee and some of the regulars from down there. Not sure what was up with my guitar, cuz it sounded pretty jive, and the vocals allsounded mushed, and well not be a whiner but it sucks when the sound guy does sound for a bit ... and then leaves before you come up to play.

i'm not really sure what they're saying beyond say, some city names, but it's kinda funny. I'm not even sure why. It's just Japanese, after all.

A good weekend overall.

We had sushi Friday night, some Red Hook beer, watched Ten Little Indians and some Spike and Mike's Animation.
Saturday i helped my mom and sister with some yardwork, clearing back vines and branches... and then went with Anders to see Jill Sobule. She's pretty cool as a performer, an awesome songwriter, and she really related well with her audience.

Softball was a bit of a wash: 8 of us showed, but we had a batting practive (of sorts) even though it rained and rained, and nobody had a bat, but Stu found a branch that was kinda straight, and we something like Neanderthal softball.

Here's a pretty cool article about the revamped NYPD and how their new approach to management is cracking down on crime, and spreading across the nation. It's really working in some cities, maybe not so well in small towns though. From the NYTimes.

Correction: Gypsy Cafe is by the corner of 14th and Bingham, not 14th and Sydney

I had lunch today with Bucket, Marto, Stuch, Madge and some other Printcafe folk at the Gypsy Cafe.
We're talking good food for a reasonable price, and casual comfrotable atmosphere. I had the Curry Chicken Sald Sandwich, a Spinach Orzo salad, and some minted fruit salad. Tres Bien. is that French for quite nice? very good?

Gypsy Cafe is on the 1400 block of Sydney Street in the South Side, right up from the City Theater.

Anyone care for a muffin? #4, 6, & 9 are particularly delicious.

Spatula vs. the Burger

I've decided that I like being the spatula, and not the burger. I think I prefer being the one to flip the cooking stuff, as opposed to being cooked. Does this mean I want to work in fast food? No. Does this mean I'm carrying a spatula with me now to whack people with? No, although that's a tempting idea. I'm saying that I'm trying a new approach. It may have been prompted by any number of things, but I'm feeling a strong urge to opine. I'm not trying to pick a fight, but I may step on some toes. Pardon me . . .

Some do this a lot . Some do this a little. Some do it like never, but say they always want to do it more. Some I understand but don't, but I'm glad to see them go for it (nice to have you back, I had stopped checking).

Well here's three beefs I've got:
Giant Eagle's self-checkout gig;
Anti-Abortion advertising in the sky;
Dan Brown v. Christianity

Giant Eagle's self-checkout gig: Let me begin by saying the machines are rude. "Move your Braeburn Apples . . . " Sounds like the angry woman in produce who's trying to get by you, but your too busy squeezing fruit to notice her. It's an impatient machine, with its frightfully slow process. Maybe you regular users of the self-checkout love it. I used to think it was great, until last night when my ginger ale fridge pack jettisons cans all over the aisle. Until the machine stops to demand that I wait for someone to bag my groceries (and they're not coming, but the light above the register is blinking like there's a problem at this machine) because the cargo area is full. Until it stops asking me, like an unsatisfied wife, if I'm finished yet. Until it jams up when a toothbrush passes through the belt way. Until it seems apparent that the days of the clerk and bagger are numbered.

Anti-Abortion Advertising in the Sky: Ok, the concept of an aborted fetus flying here in Oakland and presumably elsewhere. Have your beliefs, ok . . . but do you really need flying aborted fetuses?

Dan Brown v. Christianity: The fundamental tenet of Christianity is that Christ came to earth as God incarnate to die for man's sins, and then rose from the grave. It's simple: You buy it or you don't. Without delving too far into Nietzsche or Hegel or other dialogues of truth and reality, suffice to say that anyone can claim any authority for any reason. The proof or disproof is often difficult. That's why it's called a faith. Faith in your friends, family, deity, whatever . . .

"so if trees could scream, would we still cut them down? probably, if they screamed all the time for now reason . . . " obligatory deep thought and its related article

Flexitarian: a person who is usually a vegetarian, but is known to eat meat on occasion.

Jim Dietz and Mel have opened the Gypsy Cafe on the South Side. It's off 14th and Sydney. Their black bean hummous is pretty killer, as is the pesto pizza. thanks guys, fo rhaving us all out to your opening!

Jim Hee has a new blog, Caesar's Jester. You can find a link on the side, too.

Here's a cool new word: Iraqnophobia

Another word that's just funny: Poo X. It's any poodle crossbreed. The list of names is brilliant: cock-a-poo, peek-a-poo, etc.

First it was panties for men, now it's panties for dogs. people are really really strange.

I saw a girl picking up roadside garbage (No, I don't mean hitchhikers ... ) this morning on my way into work, and I thought, how odd, cool but odd. And then I realizes that . . .

Earth Day is today... The name of this day always makes me think of aliens from our neighboring star systems coming to visit all the quaint Terran sights: the big pictures of critters drawn in the chalky hillsides of England, Mexico and Australia. Some of the mildly miscreant ones will be doing the old crop-circle-practical-joke thingee again before leaving. Others, the more surly of the lot, will be doing all their goofy Mengelev-type experiments with bright lights and dentistry tools. Gross. . .

Anyways, there's a coupla different things going on if yer interested in helping out in some way:

Post Gazette has some things about cleanups, as well as PA Cleanways. These folks are also having an Art for Arts Sake/Earth Day event. the details are below:

hey, everyone!

In my earnest attempt to save the planet, I am pushing AGAIN to solicit your attendance at art for earth's sake. It's this Thursday -Earth Day. Tickets are $12 (26-/65+ and $20). There will be music (per Duquesne University), food, good libations, and an spectacular silent art auction. Please support our mission by attending this event. To learn more about PA CleanWays visit www.pacleanways.org. Please pass this along to anyone who may be interested. I appreciate all that you do to improve our community, and I ask that you extend your effort to my organization and purchase a ticket to this great event.

art space 303 is located at 303 east 8th avenue in homestead - just 2 blocks from the homestead hi-level bridge on the left.

And you never know who is reading your blog. I found out last night that a Duquesne professor I never even had has a link to this blog. You go, Anne Brannen....!

Finally, a solution for your bruised bananas . . .

Flying somewhere soon? Want to see what they'll be serving you? Check this out.

And the porn industry is shutting down for 60 days.

I bought a mandolin this past weekend. It's a made in China type, but the cool part is it has some built-in pick-ups. i've learned a couple chords, and have a whole lot more to learn, but it's pretty sweet.

Not a whole lot going on today, it is monday after all.

My spring class is finished for the semester, softball has begun for the season, I have vacation-jones working, I just need to figure out where I am going, and if I can drag an accomplice with me.

Oh, and I started a Fotolog on Fotolog. I'll be posting some pics up there,probably jsut one a day, at least for now.

So it's that time of year agian when the dogwood trees bloom . . . and for some reason, they make everything smell like there is a guy out and about abusing himself and spreading his man seed all over the sidewalk.

For real, these are the second smelliest trees, aside form the infamous Gingko trees. they are the stinkiest trees.

Some pretty cool artwork, from Tara McPherson. I especially like her posters for Beck, Cat Power and Suzanne Vega

Here is a freaky looking video, with a kinda cool but equally freaky tune . . . I'm not sure who the band is though.

Who knew Kissing was good for curing the hiccups? As well as a wealth of other ailments . . .

Sushi fans, cartoon fans Join Forces. My Favorite is the Power Puff Girls one . . .

Hello All.

I hope those of you who celebrate Easter had a good 'un, And I hope everyone had a good weekend.

Today, the first monday after Easter, is Dingus Day. There will be clebrations at the Bloomfield Bridge Tavern tonight. Alas, i won't be able to make it, since I've got some portfolio work and some writng to do for Wednesday.

April 15 is this Thrsday folks . . . just a little heads up.

May 7th is No Pants Day.

Candian news: Cattle Burps, and the importance of animal bones in the great North

Some weird French cartoons... even if I knew French, i doubt if I'd know what they're saying. #1 is dumb, #2 is ok, #3 is kinda funny, # 4 is dumb.

This is probably the hottest bird i've ever seen. Oh! Sexy sexy . . .

As they say, these chicks rock. I think the little blue guy they rock out with is really Jon Spencer from the band Blues Explosion. The SWEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAT!
. . . of the Blues Explosion. This is the band who reminds you of their name in nearly every song when they say "Blues Explosion." And they make for some rockin' rock n roll music.

And no, dear reader, I am not interested in any manties for myself, thank you.

The Ultimate in Emasculation . . . for a gift giver at least.

M C Paul Barman is back with a new album.

Lyrics may be explicit (and funny): "It's a porn utopia, cornucopia of warm fallopia"

Andrew Beaujon writes some cool, simple songs with a subtle something. something like some cool lyrics. Yeah, and he's written what's possibly one of the funniest song lyrics I've heard in a long while: "Baby yer so cold, you got a popsicle at end of the stick up yer butt, hope you don't die alone another succesful New Yorker." The website this came from is a good source for music you've never heard before. they even have a Boxstep single on there!

This weekend saw my birthday (30th) come and go. Thanks go out to matt and tony and kath and kelly for buying me a steak dinner, and much thanks to the 15 lucky women who helped me get halfway to my goal of kissing 30 beauties for my birthday. You know who you are, you minxes. :P

Here's a silly ad for Sports Betting in Europe

Hey Sci fi fans,Asimov readers, and tech heads . . . this movie coming out inthe summer looks pretty cool

For those of you who just like cartoons, here'sone from Steve Martin. i like th tiger best . . .

The music of Mark Geary is good food. He's like Damien Rice meets Josh Ritter when he was feeling a bit like Paul Simon. Go check him out!

Here ya go, Skippy . . .

This is probalby some of the wierdest,sorta creepy sorta funny picspage i've seen in a while.

Margot Quan Knight

I like the series called a Girls' Best Friend and "Bad Worm" best . . .


And this is kinda funny.... a brief biref version of the Lord of the Rings

Internet Explore is a bitch. No, it's a dirty, old, egg-suckin' bitch dog in heat.

I wrote out this rather concise, well crafted blog post, some links and cool ideas in it . . . and of course as I near the end of the post, POOF!!! That dirty old egg-suckin' bitch dog in heat vanished into thin air. Gone. With all my eggs . . . or blog stuff.

Go see Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Tell me what you think. I dug it, but was a little confused will have to see it again, sorta like in Memento and in Being John Malkovich.

This is a band called Schrodinger's Cat. Check out their page, go to the games section, and play the s-cat game. It's a bunch of sound samples from their songs . . . pretty cool schtuff!

I ran across the here, at the SXSW (South by South West) page. It's worth poking around there, too. Probably gonna be something you like, seeinghow there's all kinds of music there.

This morning's commute was like no other.

I got on the bus, and the driver said "Don't worry about the fare . . . " to me and the other passengers getting on board.
Strange, I thought.
As we crossed the bridge heading towards Oakland, made a right onto Forbes and approached the merger of Forbes and Boulevard of the Allies, we were forced to stop. Two cars in front of my bus was the police motor cycle blocking traffic for
the fallen firefighters funeral procession that was just coming into Oakland.

Firetrucks . . . and firetrucks,

and firetrucks,

and firetrucks.

and firetrucks,

and firetrucks,

and firetrucks,

and firetrucks,

streamed by with lights a-flashing, adorned with black banners, black wreaths, black cords, and uniformed firefighters.

There must not have been a single district, borough, township, or municipality that didn't send a representative truck or engine. Folks from Ohio were there. It was nearly thirty minutes of continuous emergency vehicle parade. I thought this was every little boys dream, a half-hour parade of firetrucks, every shape size and color.


Truly a sight to behold how firefighters honor their own. Be proud of the men and women who protect us an come to our aid in times of need.

Viceland has some dumb stuff, but the dos and donts make it worth checking out once a month, and this article on Canada is totally worth reading. Especially if you know anything about Canada or ever went there.

The Bata Shoe Museum in Toronto, Ontario is supposed to be pretty cool. A guy I chat with on the bus some mornings told me about visiting there with his SO/GF this past week on Spring Break. I think you shoe freaks should go check it out.

A good weekend this past one... talking like Yoda, mmm? I saw La Jetee and San Soleil at the Melwood. You can still check out this double feature tonight....

I saw My Architect last night, and although it was a little rough in spots, it was good.

St Patricks Day stuff in Market Square was fun, as usual. Hungout at Becko's place afterwrds, with a bunch of cool folks. and no hangover yesterday, very cool, no headache, nausea, just a little stupid was all.

Please say a prayer or take a moment for reflection for the fallen firefighters. Charles Brace was the dad of Chuck Brace, an alumni from my fraternity.