You(tube) Assholes

Youtube pulled all of StSanders shreds off of youtube and froze his account after Steve Vai and Yngwie (bitch) Malmsteem complained, according to Wired.

The silver lining is that it does end the Satriani vs. Vai vs. Malmsteem argument once and for all and let's us get back to who is better? Eric Johnson or Joe Satriani. Answer that one HH.

Just like us old fuckers miss the old days of Napster, we can now feel that way about the old days of YouTube. And fuck Yngwie. Fuck him to hell. I wouldn't even listen to that shit if it was given to me on a used cassette tape. Not even Alcatrazz unless it was the version of the band with Steve Vai. And if someone did manage to get that tape into my boombox and play it, I would immediately go to the bathroom and get toilet paper to wipe fecal matter off of the speakers caused by his awful music.

A Loss For Words

Can't think of anything to write about, so I'm just going to document what my iPod pulls up on shuffle so people can see how insane it is.

1. You Got Yr. Cherry Bomb (alternate version) - Spoon
This is cool. I had never sat and listened to it. It's essentially the same as the original with way more reverb on the lead vocal and a loooooooooooooooooot of clapping and foot stamping. Think high school rally "We Are the Champions" foot stomp clappy. I can't say enough about Spoon. I first heard them on Gimme Fiction and thought they were good, but had no idea how good until I explored their back catalog and then Gax5 came out and it was done. Easily at least in the top 5 of all albums that year. Just a solid fuckin' album

2. 200,000 (in counterfeit 50 Dollar Bills) - Citizen Cope
CC is cool, but it gets a little bit repetitive. It's kind of hit or miss. All of his songs tell stories about individuals with bad luck it seems. Painting pictures of Inner City Blues as it is like a polished and less angry Gil Scott-heron.

3. Lovin' Money (Outtake) - Cheap Trick
I sit and ponder on barstools with strangers sometimes and am yet to find the modern equivalent of Cheap Trick. Would it be a Maroon 5 or something? Regardless, very little in personnel changes and consistency in music. I think I've slow danced to "Flame" off of their comeback album. The song still makes me sad a little. Anyway, Damone and me love Cheap Trick. This song kinda drags, but it's off the padded outtake/alternate enhanced debut Cheap Trick album. Cheap Tricks first three albums are beyond fuckin' solid. You've been warned.

4. Today - Zero 7
Straight up. This is music to make love to a lady by. I've also used it when a particular girl was going ape shit crazy drunk and had to put her down on the first night that I went out with her. I had to get her to my bed and put Zero 7 on and rub her back to get her to fall asleep while I slept on the couch. Never penetrate on the first date. That's a rule to live by. It always sets a bad precedent if you do that. Ummm. Thumb in the butt? You might want to wait until fifth date. A romantic choke usually takes place...Dude, whatever. This one chick choked me on the first date I think. I didn't know what was going on and thought I was going to be choked out and robbed. then there was the girl that put processed cheese over each of her breasts and asked me if I wanted a piece of cheese. That was the most awkward post-coital moment of my life I think.

5. I know What I Like - Huey Lewis
I wish I could do the Patrick Bateman Huey Lewis speech right here. Anyway, this song is off the Fore! album. Huey was telling his fans "Fore!" meaning watch out for some mellow rocking music bouncing off your dome. I got to meet Huey Lewis when I was like 8 years old. He played at Cal-Expo in Sacramento and The Hooters opened. I remember sitting there just waiting for Huey to come out and soft rock me. My neighbors dad had a Levi's hookup and as Levi's sponsored Huey Lewis we got backstage without putting a dick in our mouths. Seriously, I think HL has a Levi's jean jacket on on every one of his albums. Or, at least is wearing Levi's. I wonder how hard it would be to bring back black denim Levi's jackets. I bet I could do it.

6. Applied Science - 311
This is off of the last good 311 album. This wasn't as good as Music, but was still pretty cool. Then, the blue album came out and they got fratdick huge and it was over. I actually went and saw them at the LA Greek on that tour and scammed my way to the third line of walkie-talkies using Pixie Sticks and Star Wars Pez dispensers to get on the drummer's guest list and get a backstage pass. Again, without putting a dick in my mouth. It can be done. My friend and I ended up in the crowd where a chick on E mauled me and shared red wine with me. The night ended with me calling out Chad, the drummer, for selling out. He agreed and told me that he loved his new house and planned on making another album just like the last one. He had no qualms with it. You've got to respect that at least. He's not like Avril Lavigne and claiming that he is hard or anything.

7. Ella - M. Ward
Been listening to a lot of M. Ward lately. He's part of the Bright Eyes, Jim James collective and is actually a compelling songwriter. It's a bit abrasive at first, but once you get acclimated, it's great. This song is cool. It's off of End of Amnesia. This shit is going to be great in the summertime to just sit outside with a sandwich and let the sun hit your face while laying on a big patch of grass. Holy shit. This hot girl the other night actually said to me "I love sandwiches." I thought it was some kind of S&M safeword for a second. That actually would be a pretty good one.

8. Beats To The Rhyme - Run DMC
You cannot fuck with Run DMC. They were the Zeppelin of the genre. I'm not going to even say they invented it. I will never throw my hat in the hip-hop discussion ring, however, they left their mark on American pop culture and gave America it's second music after Jazz/Blues. My question is why does Daryl Mack never hang out at Run's House on that show? I thought they would just be hanging out and spittin' rhymes all the time. Dude, where the hell is DMC?

9. Fiesta - Ween
Short. Sweet. To the point. There is the weirdest panning at the beginning of this song. It actually pans 100% to the left or the right at one point. It has to be some kind of inside joke, but on headphones it almost knocks me out of my chair. Listening to a Ween album for the first time when it comes out is like walking in a dark cave that might be full of bears or snakes or gum, but you don't know which.

10. Electricity - The Avalanches
This album is ripshit. Everyone needs this album.

11. Little Weapon - Lupe Fiasco
Just started getting into Lupe. I've been meaning to, but didn't get around to it for awhile.He's fucking good. The beats are legit and he's got flow. Plus, he used to skate. He'll rap about it sometimes. The snare on this song is tight as fuck. It's totally drum corp. Drumline for those of you that aren't familiar with drum corp. Lupe and Kanye and the lot are bringing back that Tribe vibe of positivity. It's good. The guns, bitches and weed shit was just getting old.

12. Sole Food - New Legends
This was the super group in my eyes in 1995. This is off of the Cookin' series put out by Ubiquity Records out of San Francisco. In 1995, you could buy any album on this label with confidence that it was going to be awesome. This was Slide 5 and Skerik and it was sick. I actually got to see them play once. They were better than you and I. Far better. This song has the dopest groove and the best sounding snare ever. Then, Skerik just tears it up. This music always seems dated to me, but every once in a while it's just perfect. I miss watching this shit live immensely, though. It was so chill to drink a PBR at the Elbo Room and watch this stuff at the age of 20 for a $3 cover on a Wednesday night. This is whist.

13. Cupid's Trick - Elliot Smith
This list is getting elitist. This shuffle is working out. I get so conflicted when I listen to Elliot Smith. This is genuinely dark, sad music. The guy just bleeds pain into your ears in a good way. You kind of need to throw New Pornographers on after you listen to an album of this, but you have to admit that sometimes it feels so fucking good to feel this bad. If you are ever in the bath tub with Elliot Smith playing and a candle burning remove yourself from the bath tub immediately and watch Caddyshack or something. It indicates that you are taking life far too seriously.

14. Letter to the East Coast - John Vanderslice
This is actually the Scott Solter remix from the Pixel Revolt remixes. Seriously, some of these sound nothing like the originals enough that they could have just called it something else. It's cool, though. Most of them are super airy and wide sounding. It could be a guy just fucking around on a mixing board. There is a time and place for this album, though. You could listen to it while you play Scrabble against yourself on a rainy night with the taste of grilled cheese sandwich burps on your breath. I'm not saying I've ever done it, but you could.

15. Pollo Asado - Ween
I didn't even know that this was one of my favorite Ween songs for like five years. It's off of All Request Live which makes it even more brilliant that they are doing the song live and keeping a straight face. It's essentially just a giant taqueria order with some horrible math for the change given. They actually start to laugh a bit at the end and name drop machaco beef. Seriously, listen to this song and try to compute your own change. And, yes, I would like a basket of chips and a beef chimi...you dickface, motherfucker.

16. I'm Always in Love - Wilco
Ooooh. Summer Teeth Wilco. The Uncle Tupelo/Son Volt/Wilco controversy is one of the coolest alt-country soap operas you could ever read about. I have to admit that I kind of picked the Wilco side and once they added Nels Cline, I was sold. If you can find it, find the Yankee Hotel Foxtrot demos that Warner Bros. turned down. It's great. This song is straight ahead Wilco. This album and Being There both are that old school Wilco sound before they got superawesome. It's like early Beatles and post-Revolver Beatles. You respect the original, but the new shit just eclipses it.

17. A Sort of Homecoming - U2
Old U2 is so cool sometimes. I respect their reinvention as well as staying power. Not a lot of bands can do that anymore. They are like a band version of Madonna. Plus, they seem like they would be very nice and caring individuals who have very good intentions. Not the rock stars that you would want to party with, but definitely rock stars you would want to sit around on a camping trip and bang on guitars with. Listening to Unforgettable Fire era U2 kind of makes me think that they've pulled a Radiohead move with the way they have grown as a band. The echo on the guitar does get a little bit schticky at some point, but The Edge has his thing. That's his thing. It's kind of like Isaac Hayes' thing is sweating and Scientolo...Not going to get into that search stream. What a beautiful pissing match over nothing that is.

18. Barael's Blade - The Sword
Two words: FUCKING METAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!Dude, "Slayer of the Spider Priests."
Behold the Bastard's blade, indeed.

19. Hi-Fi - M. Ward
Notice that the shuffle is picking favorites? M. Ward and Ween are now caught in some kind of algorithm and it is favoring these artists. I had a conspiracy theory that bands that had a new album coming out would come up more on the shuffle as some sort of stealthy marketing, but have yet to prove it. Transistor Radio by M. Ward is an album you should own. Like if I was at your house and we just got done doing it and I got up to go to the bathroom and kind of slowed down to check out your CDs and you had this album I would be impressed. Also, if you were a guy and this was happening, I would probably need to call my mom and tell her that I enjoy rollerblading now. Two ways to see if you are compatible with someone: 1)Order Chinese take out and if you like what they ordered, you are good 2)Trade iPods for a week and listen to each others strictly on shuffle. Those two things are like compatibility barometers for me. They are like reading tea leaves.

20. This Is Much More Than Your Gold Chain - Reanimator
If you can find "Music To Slit Wrists By" buy it. This took me forever to find. It's probably on iTunes now actually. This is the coolest music to listen to while you lay in bed and talk to a half naked girl about how dumb life can be and laugh your ass off. It's just really cool ambient stuff. This song on a loop could be the coolest bike ride music ever. On headphones it third persons you and makes you feel like you are outside of the situation you are in. It's kind of out of body at times. Whatever. I sound like a fuckin' hippy. I should go eat some hummus falafels.

21. It Could Be You - Def Leppard
Old Def Leppard is sick. Two arms. Anything pre-Mutt Lange is so much different. As soon as he got involved, they could wipe their asses with money, but it just sounded so produced.

22. Brand New Vandals - Rob Sonic
I'm an asshole for not going to Aesop Rock and Rob Sonic. An asshole. Seriously.

23. Stomp - Young Buck (Ratatat Remixes Vol.2)
If you don't own this album, you are lacking in elite hipsterness. Especially since it's free. This is the shit.

Back to work...

Hillary-tards

To be fair to the Obamatards, there are Hillary-tards, too. They are seriously 97% female and 60% of that has breeded. Don't be so transparent and just bet on the horse with your name. I'm not going to vote for a candidate that resembles me the most. If anything, I would vote against him.

Hillary-tards also have different hours. They seem to be up much earlier than the weed smoking and Stella swilling collegiate volunteers of Obama. Hillary-tards also seem to wear Uggs a lot. That's kinda weird.

Regardless, Hillary-tards are a lot smarter when it comes to road safety, however some of them were approaching slowly moving cars like a metropolitan panhandler and encouraging people to honk at 7:00 AM. That's not really respectful to all of those Obamatards sleeping off Monday hangovers nor the Mitttards who are up early praying for it all to end so that they can go to heaven and get out of this dive.

It all feels like a Halloween parade right now, but I do respect people giving a shit no matter how much shit I talk about it, but do they have to be so spectaclish? That is so American to make a fucking huge deal about something like affixing a postage stamp or recycling or driving a goddamn Prius with a "FUQBUSH" vanity plate. Do your business, but do you need to raise your hand to draw attention to you doing your business? Do you need to be rewarded? Do you need to let me know that you are doing something good? How about you let me let you know when that time comes?

Yacht Rock

I just found this and feel cheated that I wasn't told of it before. It's Yacht Rock. I was keeping it to myself and just sending it to friends, but it must be shared with the world. It's like a parallel universe of rock stars, both regular and smooth in the exact exaggerated way that you always wanted to see them. You get to see Michael McDonald and James Ingram hanging out with Jimmy Buffet plotting against Kenny Loggins. The only way it could possibly get better is if they were all solving crimes or something. I've only watched episode 9, 10, and 11 and I watched them backwards to see if there were any satanic messages. I can confidently say that this is goofy and brilliant and should be on a real TV somewhere all the time.

Here's the youtube search for instant gratification: Yacht Rock Youtube

Also, gotta put a link to My Old Kentucky Blog for turning me on to it.

Seriously, I've been laughing so hard at this and kinda wish that I lived there in that parallel and so smooth alternaverse.

Obamatards

The Obamatards were out today again. I almost hit two of them milling about the street with no regards to pedestrian nor driver safety. These fuckers act like they invented the vote. It's like women's suffrage just ended. They've got their fucking signs and standing on corners like migrant dayworkers interfering with traffic. Dude, a bumper sticker will get your point across. You don't see breeders standing next to their cars on busy streets with giant "Baby on Board" placards, do you?

There has got to be something more productive for these tards to be doing to benefit the campaign and if not, to benefit society in general. They could shave homeless people's beards, for instance. If I ever become mayor that will be the first thing on my agenda. After all, if the homeless were a little more attractive would they really bother us as much? Hot blonde with implants asks me for a dollar and there is a pretty good chance that she'll get that dollar. Christ, I've given my shirt to a hot Russian chick one night in the city. That was stupid. On the other hand, a dude that smells like pee with a hobo beard? Not going to get that dollar in a contest with the Russian or the blonde. That's just how it is.

I guess the question is what is the true desire of these Obamatards? First, they want Obama as President. Granted, an orangutan would be a step up from where we are; especially in International Diplomacy. This doesn't suggest that he is an instant answer, however. There is never a shortcut nor a free lunch nor an easy way out nor quick fix.

Even if he did win, he's getting the keys to a car in extreme disrepair with no gas and he has four to eight years to try and fix it and that's assuming the world has not turned on itself by then. Plus, you can put lipstick and a dress on a pig, but you still wouldn't fuck it, hopefully. There is no one that exists in the current political system that could actually make dynamic and swift changes to the system. The system of checks and balances that Bush so brilliantly destroyed in the backdoor of various "Freedom" and "Mission Accomplishing" acts and bills is a quagmire of bureaucracy that will prevent anyone from getting anything done without jumping through hoops of flames held over an alligator pit while wearing a bunny suit.

The bunny suit just seemed to slip in there because if I were performing an act like that, I'd probably have a bunny suit on, as well.

Don't get me wrong. I'm an American and support my brethren (at times, it's hard), but I'm not dumb or blind. The system is a shambles and it's not politicians that are going to change it, it's the people. The citizens are the only ones that can grow independent of their government and quit feeling like they fucking owe you something. You lost your job? Find a new one. You entered into an Adjustable Rate Mortgage knowing that it could blow up in your fucking face? You're stupid and you did this to yourself. It's not the tricky bank's fault with all of their confusing jargon and big words in their contracts. Learn to read. Oh, you loaned money to people that you knew wouldn't be able to pay off their ARM if rates went up and now you want the government to bail your bloated corporate ass out that makes money off of calculated risk? Fuck yourself. Seriously. Die.

Only when people can quit behaving like illiterate children will this country ever be the way it is portrayed in our history books that no one really reads anymore. So, go ahead make your sign and vote in November and then don't think about it for another four to eight years. And please, stay out of the fucking street, you could hurt yourself.

Super Bowled

So, a little bit wasted right now. Whatevs. Watched the Super Bowl XXLII at my neighbors house tonight and am admittedly punchy. I watched some of the pre-game while doing a crossword this morning and am still curious as to what would happen if the ninety-nine cent guys had sex with those hot chicks in the Taco Bell commercial. What would happen if a human had sex with a number? I suppose it would be weirder than a farm animal, but could result in something as awesome as Winston, my friends dog who is half weiner dog and half rottweiler. I would never want to see how it happened, but Winnie is an awesome dog. Actually, it would probably just end up being mini-Hawking.

So, the game was great. This bitterness has been deleted. To tell the truth, it's good. Getting drunk on a Sunday is never a good idea. I'm drunk, but I'm still not saying it was a good idea, however, it was a good Super Bowl. The commercials sucked and the half time show would have been great in '93, but seriously, when did the NFl turn into the Christian Baptists? The last Tom Petty reinvention was in '93 and all the songs he was playing were from '78. A boob did this to us and now the NFL punishes us for Janet Jackson's nipple. I mean, honestly, just have Jack Johnson play and no one would even know that halftime ever happened. If you are going to be "smashmouth" then don't have the Osmonds play halftime you fucking dickfucks.

Regardless, it was a good game and I had a nice time with my neighbors and their kids. I guess I'm growing up. You hang out and watch the game with the kids and loan video games to them while talking about skateboarding. That's being 32, right?

Commercials sucked.
Paula lip-synched.
Pre-game/Pre-Kick was dogshit.

I wish Seacrest and Joe Buck would get on a plane with The Big Bopper and Buddy Holly and fly to the next show with Richie Valens. Yes, read into it.

STFU, Hippy

I've been saying this for fuckin' years when the hippies push me out of their fuckin' love fest to the porch where I have to smoke while they light "Sugar Maggie," their 12 foot bong. It's so funny when Stinky Pete has to carb it for Sage. I've been telling them that it's the same shit and that they will all die of cancer, but their's will take longer because their cancer will be lazier, hungrier and playing hacky sack and ultimate while my cells are dividing at an alarming rate because they are more driven. Anyway, here's proof thanks to New Zealand (kiwi?) scientists.

Cannabis Bigger Cancer Risk Than Cigarettes: Study

Also, Phish is not fucking jazz. Now, go eat a falafel that you paid for with karma. Fucking hippies.

Ironic Deficiency

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Don't Ever Do This

When you are on a long road trip or something and you stop to get a soda at a Jackpot or whatever, don't ever do this.

-Put on super dark glasses and park in front so that the cashier can see your car.

-Get out and walk in being very careful not to make eye contact with anything.

-Lightly bump into some stuff and feel around with your hands a lot for balance.

-At the very least, walk with your hands out in front of you and look all over the place.

-Go into the candy aisle and grab a candy bar or something. A Twix perhaps.

-At this point, people should be kind of watching you so you have to be super careful to not make eye contact with anything.

-Slowly amble over to the counter. If there is a line step in front of someone until they let you know that they are there. Hold on to something for support while you wait in line.

-When you get to the cashier do not look at them and then hold the candy bar in the air and jut it towards them asking if it is a Twix. When they say "Yes." Say thank you. When they give you the total, pull a five out of your pocket and say "Is this a one?" When they say "No" reach into your pocket again and produce a one. If they say the five is a one. Quit the game and tell them to fuck off.

-Complete the transaction and walk towards the door, bumping your head into it a little bit. If there is a curb and you kinda trip over it, you get bonus points.

-Get in your car and drive away.

The game is called "Always Keep 'Em Guessing" and can really liven up long trips to rural areas.

Dick Steele. Lest We Not Forget.

Outside of video games, I've only killed one man. He wasn't necessarily a good man, however, he wasn't necessarily bad. He started to get lost in the grid and I had to put him out of his misery in a three issue story arc. That man was Dick Steele.

He was pretty much me streaming consciousness, wasted on cheap whiskey at 2:30 AM on a Saturday after my shift at the bar. It's kinda dated when I go back and read some of the articles, but still mildly entertaining. I'm vain enough to have every one of them as the electronic versions have disappeared from the Synthesis website. They are much bigger now. Anyway, if you read them in order, it's very similar to the HughVoltage thing. There are ups and downs and twists. There are fuck-yous and inside jokes galore. In fact, I used to put secret crap in some of the text to communicate with a girl that had a boyfriend. The girl became my wife and then ex-wife. She was the sole owner of the one "I love Dick...Steele" shirt that we gave away in a rigged contest because I liked her. Be weary of the asshole with the pen because it is indeed mightier than the sword somehow.

So, I found an old interview with the bass player of Galactic that turned from a regular interview into a Dick Steele interview quite rapidly. He even questions how I'm going to make an article out of it and I'll admit that Dick Steele leaned very heavily on his editor Max Sidman who was a practitioner of tough love and even refused to run the column one week because it was shit. He was a good man that saved me from myself a lot and was also part of the Panama's three man drinking team that was training to drink 31 20 oz. long island iced teas in one sitting. We got to eight a piece with tequila shots in between them and then it all got a little weird. The project was abandoned when we learned how dangerous it was. We also aged five years that day.

Also might add that the Coreys dodged a huge bullet because we had an interview lined up with them and Dick if Dick agreed to review Corey Feldman's album. I reviewed it and had the interview lined up, but Haim cancelled the day of the interview. Fucker.

Here's the article Hipness Test Administered by Dick Steele.

Here's a quote from an interview that I did with Dee Snider from Twisted Sister.
"You know what? It is a very short plane flight, in reality, for me to be out there and in your face. I’m ripped and in great shape. I wear a loin cloth and I promise you I am loin cloth worthy. Matter of fact, it’s a little bit loose."


Holy crap. I scanned the Van Halen Dick Steele and have it on my Flickr account. I use Van Halen or David Lee Roth song/album titles 36 times in the column. Check that Link: "Reach Down Between My Legs/Ease The Seat Back"

Hugh Voltage Picture Party

Quick note: Is it shitty to put a Post-It note on the coffee pot at work that says "This coffee tastes like dog piss. If you would like to learn how to make a proper pot of coffee to share with your co-workers, please come by my office and I will show you how. The coffee that is in this pot is not even worthy of being poured out or served to cops or teachers. The pot with the coffee in it should be taken out of the office and driven to a landfill and never used again. You have ruined my morning. Thank you." It's a big Post-It.

When I'm not training to catch a predator, you may find me in dirty fucking watering holes taking in culture and seeing how the other half lives. When I'm not doing that, I'm doing a whole bunch of weird shit and sometimes I take pictures with my phone. They are all blurry and shitty, but I thought I'd post some of them and try and explain what and why. I had a picture of this girl that I'm not putting in here because that would be incriminating, but it's one of the best stories ever. EVAR. I'll just give up the punchline and spare the details. The night ended with me getting into an elevator at the Sheraton while smelling of booze and cigarettes and perspiration and looking at the dude next to me with his rollie luggage and discussing the drive to the airport at 6:30 in the morning. That's a rough night folks.


These first two pics are in the license plate category. The one on the left had me cracking up in the parking lot this morning as Canadian is the only real ethnicity that I can verify in my background. Drunken grandparents have called out Jewish and Italian and my last name sounds more like Saurbraten than anything else, yet it has actually been stolen by a certain individual that refuses to give it back to the chagrin of family members. Whatevs. It has become a joke amongst us that someone would voluntarily take that last name. I mean I could understand if your last name was Dickmouth or something; my last name would be an upgrade from that. Hey. at least it's not a hyphenation. Say this out loud and start laughing: "Hello. My name is Edward Dickmouth. Nice to meet you."

The pic on the right made me laugh because I, in fact, would rather be dancing. I should probably blur the license plate number out in case someone gets smart and looks it up. Whatever, we're in a police state anyway. Smile and accept your national ID program. I digress. My sister exchanged my Chico State Alumni license plate frame with one that says "I'd Rather Be Blading" at my mom's birthday about two years ago and then lost my license plate frame. So, my car still says I'd rather be blading. I could handle it if it said "I'd rather be fruitbooting," but I really need to do something about that. I always joke that I'm going to replace it with one that says "I'd rather be driving sober," but that might be a bad move.

Quick joke: What's the hardest part of rollerblading? Telling your dad that you're gay.

I'm a freak. I love candy corn and Starburst jellybeans. Those two substances are my anti-drug. I was sitting at my coffee table watching tv and eating my allotted handful of candy corn that constitutes one serving and is actually the RDA for predator hunters like me and it was Christmas time so I made a candy corn wreath. It's the predecessor to the Candy Corn on the Cob, which I'm still working on. I can't decide on what the core is going to be made out of. It's either got to be almond paste or marzipan. God, marzipan is more olde tymey than ribbon candy and that weird licorice candy that they have in Canada. Oh, also they have this weird raspberry candy that is kinda gooey in the middle. It somehow straddles the line between gross and delicious.

Ummm. I was cleaning and organizing my closet the other day and came across an unmarked box. I opened it and it was full of VHS porn. When the old lady and I separated I put most of the bottom drawer stuff in a box and duct taped it and disposed of it. The contents of that box did not need to be discovered by a hobo dumpster diver or little kids. It would amount to a life changing event and need to be reported to their healthcare provider. I will admit that there were a lot of cool if not super "we did that?" reminiscents related to that box. Oh, crap there was this one time that a good friend was over at the apartment and my ex's vibrator was on the dresser and he totally saw it and didn't say anything about it at first. It was kind of like getting caught masturbating by your mom. Not mine. Yours.

Anyway, the third in the finest pronographic series of all time. Taboo 3. It was kind of new wavey after Taboo 2, but still classic in many ways. Nothing will ever beat Taboo 2. It's the Zeppelin IV of porno movies. The quotes and the music are quintessential vernacular for pron.






So, while you wait in line for a prescription at Long's and you get off at 4:00 in the afternoon, you deal with octogenarians waiting for their pills. You know they are there when you drive into the parking lot because the fucking blue hairs can't get their Oldsmobiles in between the fucking lines. Then, you read this article that lets you know that men and women over 50 are banging each other and spreading tons and tons of STDs amongst each other because of shit like Viagra and Cialis. So, you figure out that these old ladies are waiting on Amoxicillin to get rid of their chlamydia that they all got from the same old fucker at the home who is senior citizen big pimpin'.

As disgusting as it sounds, I think when and if I cross that bridge, I want to be that dude, but without the STDs. Oh, so while I waited for my STD unrelated prescription (it was actually pills to make me less handsome because the doctor decided the intensity of my handsomeness could pose a danger to others), I browsed Long's and learned that you can use a hot water bottle as an enema bag and you can be a pirate for $3.59 + tax. Also, one size fits all. I think a funny name for an eye patch would be "Pirate Sunglasses." Um, also gotta award the ninjas a point in the area of depth perception in the ongoing saga of pirates vs. ninjas.





Okay. In my spare time I am also a champion of multiple co-ed recreation leagues. It's gotten to the point that in the morning on Saturdays and Sundays, I don't know which championship shirt to wear. Also, sometimes, late at night, I don't know which one to cleanup with after the magic happens. I have to come clean and admit that I have a preferred C-rag. If you don't know what that is, please feel free to e-mail me and I will explain the many uses of a shirt with a wolf on it from Montana that your grandma gave you.

It involves the part of porno movies that they don't show you. At the end of the six minute scene, all of that stuff all over that actress putting herself through college does not magically disappear and must be wiped away. It's the unsexy part of sexy, but very necessary. It's the untalked about thing. It's the cum rag. That spelling grosses me out. I had a girlfriend in high school that would always pass me notes written in a hot pink pen that used that spelling alot. It was like the slutty version of the British "OU." Examples being "humour,""tumour," and "rumour." I kinda suck at examples this morning, but could imagine an Australian saying "sumo" like this: "Sumer." They crack me up when they say "No" and it sounds like the "Noir" in film noir.





"Oh my god. Oh my god." That's what I sound like when people get on the subject of Minus the Bear. It's like Hanna Montana freak out for prepubescent girls. Ever since Menos El Oso, I've been totally gay for them. I even went to their last show by myself. It was like going to a movie by myself the first time. You kinda feel like a loser with no friends at first, but then you just become this silent observer of your surroundings and you'll be surprised at the stuff that you missed when you were with someone.

I even had an extra ticket that was earmarked for a girl that ended up getting hobo drunk and deciding that she hated me. It's the type of thing that months later everyone that had contact with her and you is like "I told you not to hang out with her. She's more of a mess than you."

Speaking of messes, I need to go on record and say that I miss the girl who took me wine tasting, put on porn with her friend there afterwards, told me she was crazy then suggested that we get naked, then napped, then took me out with her friends to a bar where she subtly tore her panties off and handed them to me and then made me sleep on her couch after I sang "I Want You To Want Me" with the cover band that was playing the bar. That all happened in a 24 hour period. I could've married that one. That was a catch. I think I'm into girls that will kill me while I sleep. I should get that checked out.

Anyway, that's Dave Knudson's pedal board. Four Line 6 delay modelers? Are you crazy? One more and he would have a time machine on his hands. Also, love the Whammy pedal in there. That is music gadget pron in that picture.

I've got a picture of me riding a Segway that I'm not going to post because I like to keep it a little anonymous and don't need to be putting too much of my face on the InterTubes. I will say, however, that it was like fucking a fat girl. It was hella fun, but you don't want your friends to find out about it. Oh, I also got chlamydia from it.

I'm just going to end this by saying a) microwave popcorn will give you cancer b) you shouldn't be eating fucking microwave popcorn at 10:30 in the morning, if at all c) it smells like urine. Feel free to use c) as a first or last line in a haiku.

Wait, here it is:

Microwave popcorn
It will likely cause cancer
It smells like urine

Hughvoltage is full service. I'll even write the haikus for you.

Note: Somebody found the blog by searching the words "Beef Penis." I might be going out on a limb, but what a good band name that would be. I would also like to add that a scotch drunk hangover makes you feel like you are invisible at work the next day. It's really weird, but kinda awesome.

To Catch A Predator...And Kill It

I totally got sucked in by American Gladiators. I like to think that I'm impervious to filth outside of pornography, however, this got me.

It's not the competition. The events are lame at best. The "Gauntlet" is like a game that you would play at Gymboree after hours with a bunch of roided out freaks whacking you with pillows. There is the "Pyramid" which is another game that you would play at an abandoned gymnasium. I think we actually played a game similar to it on carpet pad in a warehouse when we were kids. "Assault" is tight, though. Please take note of the subtle Nerf logos and how the announcer really stresses that they are being shot at with projectiles traveling over 100 miles per hour. Dude, they are fucking tennis balls and you make it sound like Dr. Evil saying "One Meel-yun Dollars." I'm still not sold on the "Eliminator" being as hard as it is, but I guess it could be after fatigue set in. The fire on the water is fucking lame, though. There are also wrestling, rock climbing, ring swinging, playground bridge running and stick whacking events.

It could be the gladiators. On the dude side there are definitely personalities that are emphasized in their outfits. There is the Hawaiian guy, the guy who looks like a roided out guy-who-plays-violin-in-Dave-Matthews-Band guy, Jay Mohr on performance enhancers, etc...Then, there is Wolf. I'm pretty sure Wolf used to play bass in Blue Murder after John Sykes left Whitesnake. Blue Murder was a super group and that's all you need to know.

On the girl's side of gladiating, what I call "Ladyators." There are the hardest asses you have ever seen on women. Well, all of them except for Helga. I think Helga thought she was in line for the Biggest Loser and accidentally got on this show. Then there is my Muscle&Fitness crush on well, Crush? She could tone her thighs a bit, but that may just be the picture. Huge fan of her. The only thing is that when any of these women talk they sound like dudes. You kind of want to just be all "Honey. It's okay. Just talk in your inside voice." Some of the Ladyators are better than the others, too, but it's interesting how they rotate them in and out. This week were the B-team definitely. Venom is B-team Joust for sure and Fury is B-team pyramid. Might I add that Crush is still undefeated in Joust? The gladiator version, not the Atari version, sadly.

Also, there is no way that there is a writer's strike going on right now because whoever wrote for Saved by the Bell back in the day must be writing the clever quips and puns that the contestants are using on this show. It is horrible. The stuff they have white trash saying is just demeaning. For instance, a bull rider will be like "I'm going to clean you up like I do to the tables at Shawny's (sp?) every Thursday morning."

So, anyway, perhaps this is an admission of guilt or a confession. Perhaps, I am rubbernecking the devolution of class and taste on the idiot box. I could be watching Nova or reading or making myself a better person, yet I'm watching this crap.

It also inspired me to workout more and train to be a contestant on American Gladiators. I would show everyone what I was made of. High school classmates, co-workers, ex-girlfriends...I would don the contender spandex and let the world see my "Missile-Toe." That's a male camel toe. I doubled my protein intake and spent a day and a half at the Vitamin Shoppe picking out my supplements carefully and dealt with the idea of mood swings, man breasts, and erratic sleeping behaviors.

I had my list ready to purchase at home and then I turned the channel in between commercials when I was just using the TV for white noise and Predator 2 was on. I'm afraid I had an epiphany. Fuck, American Gladiating. The show would be cancelled in at least two seasons, however, there is a looming threat that would never be cancelled for my lifetime. No, not global warming, nuclear Armageddon, bird flu, the second coming of Christ or the complete loss of value in the American dollar followed by the financial collapse of the American economy. The looming threat is a Predator attack. The odds are minuscule, but if it did happen, I want to be that guy. I want a phone call to happen where a guy is like this.

"Well, Hal, you know that thing in the Predator movies?"

"You mean the Alien Vs. Predator movies?"

"No, Hal. The good movies. Remember the one with Apollo Creed and the Terminator?"

"Oh, yeah. Those were great."

"Well, turns out that they exist and there is one in Bakersfield."

"Fuck, dude. Has anyone done anything about it?"

"No. No one really knows what to do, but my boss asked me to call you to see if you had HughVoltage's number. Apparently, he's been training for just this situation. He even put American Gladiating on the back burner for it."

"Oh. Thank god. He really is a forward thinker. Again, I wish we all could be a little more like HughVoltage."

"It's all right to dream, dude. It's all right to."

So, that's kind of what I had in mind for my training preparation. I'm still upping my protein intake and eating nothing, but chicken, rice and egg yolks, but the focus of my training will be inspired by the first two Predator movies. I should probably change my voicemail to let people know and update my FaceBook.

Fuck You Redneck Trash

I apologize for posting so much today, but this fucking idiot needs to be saluted. Someone should burn this fucking place down, but then the domestic, idiotic terrorists that we call fellow citizens would win. Fuck this guy. Definitely watches Wheel instead of Jeopardy.

Casa D'ice signs.

American Psycho...

...as romantic comedy via collegehumor.com

This is so awesome. You kinda gotta know the movie, though.

American Psycho as a romantic comedy.

Hakuna Dentata means "No Worries"

I came across this awhile back and called bullshit on it. It's a movie called "Teeth." Whatevs, right? Maybe a pair of those plastic gag teeth attacking people. Perhaps a movie about John Elway's mouth. Or, perhaps a biopic about an Osmond. Nope.

Teeth is a movie about a girl with teeth in her vagina. Apparently, it is based on a myth called Vagina Dentata, which is latin for "toothed vagina." I'm getting the impression that it kinda works like The Incredible Hulk where when she gets mad her vagina attacks people. In the trailer it attacks her gynecologist. Can you imagine her saying, in a Bruce Banner fashion, "You won't like my vagina when I'm angry."

Plus, could the term "Menstrually Retarded" be used at all? I'm not married anymore and very single (Hey Ladies! Get funky) and have to admit that being unaffected by that thing is pretty awesome. I used to have to track my ex-wife's cycle in my Palm Pilot and would recommend doing this for all males currently in some type of relationship. Plus, growing up with three sisters, it was imperative to be able to identify when it's time for you and your stepdad to go golfing or catch a movie. Regardless, just get out of the fuckin' house because the call is coming from inside the house. Knowing is half the battle.

Here's the trailer. Please god put that sound from Hand That Rocks the Cradle in that opening scene somewhere. I was mentally scarred by the sound that is made when Rebecca Demornay goes to the gynecologist in that movie. It sounds like someone eating tapioca with their mouth open. God, that's gross.

Silversun Pickups - Pikul

The conversation started like this: "Dude, you gave that chick a ride home? Are you fuckin' crazy?"

It was in reference to a weird night out that within 36 hours tied directly to another weird day out, but the poor asshole in the middle had no idea what was going on.

I think it was like two weeks ago and it was a Friday or Saturday. I had sat at home and played some Half-Life 2 on Xbox and needed some type of social interaction so I went to the bar. It's what I do. I used to feel bad about it, but lately I've been thinking and I'm really accountable to no one. Not even a fuckin' plant or my mom. I can theoretically do whatever the fuck I want. If I wanted to put on a robe and lay on the floor and just put a scoop of chocolate ice cream on my chest and watch it melt...I could do it.

Anyway, I bumped into, or rather he bumped into me, the guy who plays trumpet in my passive aggressive band. Seriously, the music is painful to listen to and even more painful to play. Anyway, he was with his little sister and her friend and I'm gross so I sat and talked with them over a couple of pitchers. I went to the bar to buy the second pitcher and an extremely hot, probably 22 to 24 year old walked up to me and said "Hey. You're that guy, aren't you?" I just replied "Probably." I told her that I would come back and hang out with her when I was done with my friends.

About a half hour later I sat next to her at the bar. Conversation started normal. Man, she must have been on E or something because she got all close talkey and said "I want to kiss you, but you smoke." I said "Then don't kiss me." I'm seriously not a huge fan of PDAs at all.

She went for it anyway and I'm a sucker for super hot chicks. Yeah, my bad. The night plays out like that and I end up giving her a ride home. She got so wasted that she could barely tell me where she lived and had hiccups. I pulled over at a 7-11 and got her some water while three cop cars and six cops were in the parking lot. I believe the term is "Brazen." So, I get closer to figuring out where she lives and realize that there is no way that a girl that young owns a house in the neighborhood that I'm in. That means that I'm giving a chick a ride to her parent's house. This is the point that you just hope that she's 18, at least.

Anyway, I get her home and touch nothing below the neck because I'm a boy scout at heart and relatively sober.

The next morning I woke up in a sweat because my subconscious had gone back and retrieved the reason I was "that guy." She actually had something behind that when she said it. During a bout of day drinking with soccer friends. She came up and hung out with us. About an hour into it, this old fucker and this lady walked into the same bar and started yelling at her while we were "protecting?" her. It was her dad and like a coworker or something. It was straight out of intervention and I hadn't really made a note of it. If her dad would have seen me drop her off that night, I'm pretty sure I would've been attacked.

I would just like to iterate here that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. A good intention is going to be the death of me, I assure you.

So, in 2005 Silversun Pickups put out an EP called Pikul and no one told me. I think it was Lazy Eye or Checkered Floor that first caught my attention when KEXP played it. Over the last couple of weeks, KEXP has played a couple of songs off Pikul and they were pretty tight so I actually bought the album from Amazon's non-DRM service. I encourage it. It works well and you can do whatever you want with the download.

So, the album is solid. The first song "Kissing Families" sounds like a rough draft from Carnavas. Future Foe Scenarios in particular. Nikki Monninger gets her swerve on all over this EP. God, since Darcy Wretsky and her replacement Ginger Reyes in Smashing Pumpkins, there is nothing hotter than a chick playing bass and singing in high heeled boots. Okay, one thing: A chick in a bikini and heels, but that's my own issue. Oh, also Erin Grey in Buck Rogers. That never gets old. So, yes, the first song on the EP is standard Silversun Pickups music. Great guitar tones and a chick singing backup. I care for it.

The second song is "Comeback Kid." I'm sold. These guys are great and I'm a little pissed that no one gave me this album in 2005. This hipster is aging. It just brings the point home that there are probably 25 bands out there that I would love, but I will never hear because the music business is fucked. The bass line in this song is awesome. It almost sounds Radioheadish for the first minute.

Next is "Booksmart Devil." Slower than the others, this song just kind of grooves like a Pixies song until that awesome fuzz guitar kicks in. These guys are most likely better than you.

Oh, sweet. A song called "The Fuzz." The intro's dope and a bass line that Spoon would be jealous of. I'd like to confirm that they are better than you and they have been since 2005. I feel guilty now for not knowing.

"Creation Lake" is the next song. Nikki sings the lead. Hot. She doesn't look super hot, but I've slept with a chick for having leather pants on, so who knows. That was a long time ago, might I add, and I was dating a chick that had Darth Vader's haircut.

"All The Go Betweens" has a totally Perfect Circle intro. The drums are tracked super raw. I like it.

And finally "Sci Fi Lullaby" closes the album. Mellow. Good way to wrap it up. Silversun Pickups use some cool effects effectively. You should own this EP. If not, go back to your Josh Groban DVD and call it a day.

I needed to append the post and add that Future Foe Scenarios is a fuckin' retardedly good song. Check the lyrics. They're fucking brilliant. This lyric stream is awesome "and there's no way to know/our future foe scenarios/that's when it turned on me/where bobby pins hold angel wings." I had never actually listened to the words because I was dissecting the arrangement the whole time. It's good stuff.

Voting Is Easy...

...to cheat at:

Link to Flickr photo via Digg.

FeuerStarter

Steven Feurstein works for TOAD (Quest software) and is one of the smartest dudes I have ever seen talk. Plus, he turns out to be super down-to-earth with a good sense of humor and comes across as generally good people all around. I saw him present on Testing Best Practices at Oracle OpenWorld and have been following his TOAD blog and his personal blog ever since.

Since I finished my primary ballot last night and voted Obama like I'm supposed to, but did think about writing in "Boneless Buffalo Chicken Wings" or "Ralph Wiggum," I've been thinking about how fucked up our voting process is. We can do an American Idol vote in 24 hours time, but we can't do a government election with a straight majority in one of the most technologically advanced and richest (the top 20% anyway) countries in the world. I can't even step out and blame our looking to an invisible man in the sky as the stumbling block on this one. It comes down to fear of truth. Without the ability to fuck with elections, power is taken away from the politicians and actually given back to the people (the majority). When the people actually start making decisions (yes, even the Midwest), the government as we know it will cease to exist. This means pharmaceuticals, big auto, MNCs, etc. will be unable to make policy changes the way they do now.

Scary, isn't it? Dystopian books and movies are starting to read and watch like memoirs.

Steven's FeurThoughts on voting is required reading. Coming from a tech guy it means a lot more than coming from Katie Couric reading off a cut and pasted press release.

Electronic Voting System DOs and DONTs.

Click image to go to Simpsons site for more information

Too Long Foo Thanks For Everything, Julie Newmar

I haven't been blogging. I wish I had a reason. No muse, perhaps, but a ton of dumb shit has happened to write about.

There was a holiday party at the Top of the Mark gone awry. It ended at the Tonga Room at the Fairmont in San Francisco where the cover band played "All Night Long" when I walked in and then followed that with "As" by Stevie Wonder while I held coats and purses while sipping Ketel and sodas. The event ended the next morning with me taking BART from Berkeley in a suit and tie to CalTrain in Millbrae to my car to home for an hour and then back to the city for a tight coffee shop gig in the Richmond district and then back home to a soccer game and then to bed. The simplest things do tend to get a bit Homeresque at times. Swear that I had the best intentions, though.

Did some Christmas shopping and bought an Xbox 360 for myself. Bought some lightsabers for friends due to a ban on the shipment of nunchucks into California. You can have a gun in your house, but not nunchucks. That is so fuckin' wack. What are the chances that someone would die if they broke into my apartment and I beat the shit out of them with nunchucks versus with a gun? Regardless, it would look so funny to do it in my underwear. Anyway, I'm in the market for a nunchuck mule out of state. Or, maybe I'll just go buy a handgun. Go Republican legislation. The only reason they have banned nunchucks is because it's the Asian man's gun. On the other hand, a gun is just a white man's nunchuck. When will prejudice end in this state?

Okay, then. Did Dad Christmas which is the day before Christmas Eve with the Mi Familia side of my family. My grandfather got his buzz on and let us know that he was adopted and that we are most likely Italian. My cousin knocked up his girlfriend. I got some Armani cologne for the third year in the row even though I have never smelled of it once. My dad got me good stuff. He's really latched onto the Arsenal jersey thing and it suits me fine. Lastly, my sister's dog hates lightsabers.

Did Mom's side Christmas Eve at my sister's and spent a second day crashing on a couch. It was pretty much the same as Christmas I. I spent the next morning getting coffee and crossword puzzling until the rest of the house woke up. I think that might have been the night that my sister whipped our asses at Wii and then fell into the tree twice because she was wasted.

Christmas. Put more shit in my car then I have ever put in it and hauled my sister and her dog to my stepdad's house. My mom is trying to call it something else, but that's what it is. Recent developments have shown that I'm still pissed off at her for separating from my stepdad and I'm currently not accepting phone calls from her and she's figured it out. I am a 32 year old man child. Opened more gifts and ate more crap. At this point for Christmas number 3, I was done with it. It's enough with the marketing blitz, but then with the gastric decimation that goes on, it can get to be too much. Crashed on my stepdad's couch on Christmas night and left super early in the morning to nest at my apartment and sleep in my own bed.

I also got to see Van Halen, which was sick in there somewhere.

Other dumb shit: I watched the first hour of American Gladiators last night and laughed hysterically. It is the most brilliant satire of the American culture I have ever seen. It was like watching Idiocracy if it were a reality game show. If I was a stronger individual who did not enjoy laughing at the ignorance of others, I would be able to turn this off and go to a yoga class on the way to returning my unused paper bags to Trader Joe's. I won't lie. I watched it. So, I'm sitting there watching American Gladiators and an ad for Knight Rider comes on. Then, there is an ad with Mr. T in it on another station. The Bionic Woman started last season. I've watched Battlestar Galactica for three seasons now. If I take all of those shows and feed them into some sort of TV date calculating machine then it puts it at about 1983. Plus, having seen Van Halen last month, I can confidentally say that it's 1984. That's just naming things off the top of my head. Oh, Morrissey put out an album last year, too and is touring. The list could go on for a while.

Ladies and Gentleman, Mr. David Lynch

I heart him. He doesn't drink the Kool-Aid.

Biggest Inside Joke Ever

This movie is going to be remade by Ashton Kutcher in 3...2...1....

Pro tip: Try to avoid doing google searches on the word "hunk." You might also want to avoid searches on "tentacle." Trust me.

Fun Fact: If you google search "centaur penis" you may find this blog for some reason.

Wax On. Wax Off. (Or, There is no mercy in this dojo Mr. Lawrence)

I was getting my drinking out of the way for the week last night with a jagermesiter shooting schoolteacher. Due to a busy holiday seasonish week, I had to efficiently pack in a bunch of beers on Tuesday night. It was my first drinking session since my half a beer last Friday night. Drinking has totally lost its luster since I purchased and absolutely fell in love with an Xbox 360. Throw in a bigger TV that my sister's boyfriend gave me and it's been like Christmas at my apartment since last Saturday. There's no tree or anything, but there is cool shit to play with.

I'm like three gift cards and a case of wine short of finishing Christmas shopping. Things are going relatively well. Plus, my hair is really cooperating. That means a lot in this weather. It's really due to the Bumble & Bumble Sumowax, but I had to learn how to use it. Holy crap. I can't believe I just admitted to using that produck. It costs a fortune for very small amounts, but it lasts forever.

Oh, so the reason I was writing was because some chick that spoke no-English came into the bar while myself and the dudes were playing golf (I was whipping ass) and handed us this flyer for La Jolie Nail Spa. I studied marketing in college and I wouldn't call this a targeted campaign. Unless they are a rub & tug, it really didn't make sense to give it to a bunch of dudes. It's not really the mani pedi crowd. I am a reader, however, so I was reading it between strokes on the game and learned about hands and feet treatments. I found massage add-ons interesting and was disappointed that they didn't have "happy ending" listed. That would be funny.

Now, here is that part that I never knew about, but was curious about. It's the world of waxing. Both location and cost interested me and now I know both kinda. So, eyebrow, lip and chin are ten or fifteen bucks. Ummm. You can have your sideburns waxed for fifteen bucks, too. That creates an awful image in my head, but reminds me of my high school girlfriend. Oh, I mean fiancee. So dumb. She was hairy and had hair that looked like Darth Vader's helmet. She has two kids now. Good Job!

Hey, that's interesting. The boy in an engagement is called the fiance with one "e" and the girl is fiancee with two "e"s. I've been engaged twice and never knew that. I do, however, know that if the dude wears an engagement ring it's hecka gay.

Okay, so. I'm wondering what a "Brazilian-Take-it-all" is. It's $60 and if it's what I think it is, it is awesome. Next is half legs upper and half legs lower. Why would you only get the lower or upper done by themselves? That would be awesome. You're all getting on some chick and you put your hand on her awesome, smooth, hairless lower leg and you move your hand up and it's some atrocious hairy upper leg that feels like when you put your own hands down your pants to adjust your underwear during a work day because underwear is for work and formal events only.

Next is the underarms (armpits) for fifteen bucks. I'd recommend that. In fact, I'd pay for it on some jeans under the dress wearing hippies. There is also full arms and half arms. Again, it's perplexing to think about only getting half the arm done. Or, perhaps, even having half arms. Then, there is chest waxing for thirty five bucks. I'd imagine that is primarily for dudes because chicks with that weird hair on their areola can just pluck them. Yeah, I went there and yes, I've seen it.

Lastly, is the back wax. This is kind of a no brainer. When you hit thirty, you start to find hair in the weirdest places. When I had a girlfriend the few stray upper back, half back and shoulder hairs were sparse and manageable. She would enjoy yanking them out. As our relationship started dissolving she found enjoyment putting rubbing alcohol on all my soccer related burns. I think she liked the way I would scream and tear up when she did that. It is what it is. I think it helped sustain the relationship for a little while longer. Anyway, the main problem that sprouted up has been this weird lower back hair, my half back, if you will. I'm starting to understand spa terminology. The hair starts low and starts moving like ivy up your back. It's not a big deal yet, but you can tell that someday I'm going to have to quit doing yoga with a beard trimmer and either find a girlfriend or life partner or go get waxed. I'm scared that once I'm there I won't be able to stop and I'll just let them have it all. My whole body would look like nylons with no hair, but the idea of it is interesting.

The next hair area that I noticed after 30 was my ears. I found a random long hair sticking out of my ear. Not IN the ear, but there is a fuzz on the outside of my ear. I hate it. I can't even imagine if it was dark and coarse. I would become a recluse and if anyone saw me I would yell "Don't look at me! I'm a monster!"

You also get the long hairs coming out of your nostrils after 30. It's not a big deal, but that nose trimmer that you made fun of in the Sky Mall catalog soon becomes less funny and more necessary. I wonder if they could wax my nostrils. That would hurt and would definitely make you sneeze. Maybe it's like cat's whiskers and humans need their nose hair to find their way in the dark. So, I would get my nose hair waxed and then that night my house would get broken into and I would walk into the hallway in the dark and walk into a door knocking myself out because I didn't have any nose hair to find my way in the dark. That could definitely happen.

Here is a shout out for all the cat lovers. Here is a preview and click that link:

"When you can't own your own cat, Petz Catz 2 is the next best thing. Visit your lovable bundle of fur anytime and enjoy hours of fun with your furry friend. You'll never have to worry about cleaning the litter box or visiting the vet. With more than 40 different breeds to choose from, the only hard part is choosing which one."

Van Halen

I'm fortunate enough that a good friend grabbed me a Van Halen ticket for this Saturday. I've been looking forward to this since 1984. So, I don't even remember how I came across this little gem, but I remember when it came out. Pro tip: don't name your band after a Star Wars reference.

The song is brilliant, though. An homage to the DLR era of Van Halen and not the dark Empire Strikes Back years of Van Halen't. I saw DLR play at the Solano County Fair and it blew doors on anything that Van Hagar ever did. That's including the fucking Crystal Pepsi commercial. And all Diamond Dave had at his disposal was mic stand kung-fu, the bass player of White Lion (James Lomenzo), and apple juice in a whiskey bottle. I heart that man.

Nerf Herder - Van Halen



Oh fuck. I just found this from Oakland in 1981. This is why a time machine needs to be invented. This would be a stop on my time machine tour. This is sick.

This Next Blog Is The First Blog

Cheap Trick at Budokan: The Complete Concert is awesome. Robin Zander is at his peak and has in-between-song banter that isn't written by someone else and is used every night. Rick Nielsen is just tight. He is never over-the-top and is always playing to serve the song. As a whole, the two-cd set is pretty much a primer of how to move a crowd and play a perfect live show.

As for the consumer, it's not so great in the Winter time, but would be great to play while you clean your apartment with the heater turned up real high. This album is perfectly suited for drinking cheap beer while hanging out in someone's backyard in lawn chairs with your shirt off while being accosted by barbecue smoke. Perhaps, it is warranted of the term BBQ Music.

Mistakes Were And Will Continue To Be Made...

So, this weekend while out in public doing research on people in general, I overheard this conversation between a bunch of women. When I say reasearch, by the way, I mean buying coffee, buying new pants and trying to ignore loudtalkers.

"Well, my boyfriend hasn't really been over to my apartment yet because I don't really like it."

Her friend replys, "My boyfriend hasn't even met my cats yet and we've been together for five months."

So, after taking in this new data and feeding it into my calculations of self-worth I realized that it's not so bad being single because it could be worse. For instance, I could have a girlfriend that has not met my cats if I had any. Q: The only thing weirder than cat ladys, by the way? A: Cat men.

Sorry, Pappy. You know better than to take things in the blog personally.

I'm officially writing down "Cat Ladys" on my dealbreakers list. It's not real high on the list because exceptions could be made and cats could be lost. Oh my shit. What if you hooked up with a girl and then things went really well and you both liked each other and you moved in totgether, but she had a cat?

So, in the process of moving her into your place or moving into a way better place, you "accidentally" lose her cat so that you can pursue a much more fruitious (that's right, bitch. fruitious) life down the road. If this happened and you managed to salvage the relationship between you and her after severing the substitutious relationship that was fostered between your girlfriend and her cat, you would get to say "Mistakes were made, but we are going to learn from this and move forward."

"Mistakes were made" is hands-down my favorite phrase right now. I'm using it at work a lot to amuse myself unbeknownst to anyone else. It's like the three months that I used "How we roll" in a business situation and managed to inject it into our workplace vernacular. My boss actually used it in a meeting one time and I had to leave the meeting to go use the restroom and laugh my ass off.

So, it being the holiday season and me being relatively vain. I've come up with the ultimate gift for mother. It's a wallbanger of myself vacuuming or cooking. If you watch sports you have probably seen the commercials for fatheads. Fatheads are for NASCAR, Star Wars, Football, baseball, Hannah "Who the fuck is Hannah..." Montana, etc. Wallbangers are the English version of them that they play on Fox Soccer Channel.

So, anyway, they are giant posters for your wall if you live in the MidWest or are under 14. I really don't see any other place for these. You can, however, get a wallbanger made custom now. So, you can get them of yourself playing sports like team ttf, the queen, becca, or kevin 11 24/7.

So, cool. Those guys are participating in some form of recreational activity. Kevin has some dope sandals on and Becca is doing the robot superaggressively, I think. I can see the merit in getting these made for yourself if you truly think of yourself as awesome.

There is a dark underbelly to this product, though. There are the people that get wallbangers of their cats. For instance, meet Trouble. Trouble fills that hole of loneliness and despair that his owner feels late at night while she watches seasons of Sex and the City and thinks about how she is never going to meet a guy like McDreamy from Grey's Anatomy. Then, we have Gizmo. Gizmo was pulled from a fight with a raccoon at 3:00 A.M by his owner and inadvertently caused the owner to have to get a rabies shot. Immediately following that altercation, the owner had to pay $1200 for emergency cat pancreatic surgery. Yeah, cat people. You made the list.

Holy crap. I just saw a wallbanger in the gallery of someone's truck. Cat people, I'm taking it back and you guys are getting moved up a peg to make room for car people. My apologies.

Please check out the wallbanger gallery.

This is a late entry, but OMG, this is the best one hands down. The kid's name is Beetle and he has a shirt on that says American Cornhole. That sounds like a Kid Rock album. I thnk he is throwing bean bags. This kid just made my day.

TMI (Totally Maladjusted Individual)

I haven't been blogging, duh. I've been regrouping. To be completely honest, I was losing my way a bit...for like the hundredth time. It was still better than last year at this time, which was better than the previous year, etc.. So, here's what's been going down.

I went to the Big Game last weekend and never made it past the tailgate phase due to weather and the Civil War. I wanted to catch the end of the Oregon game and I was also contemplating setting a trash can on fire (Hobo Heater) at the tailgate. So, my hetero companion and I ended up at our bar that we go to after soccer games. It was warm, there was beer, and the games were on. It was pretty nice. I was supposed to go to my company holiday party at 7:30 that night and was persuaded out of it by about 7 people. I felt loved. Then I felt loaded. We got home pretty early and I tucked my hetero companion into couch. Technically, he passed out and I threw a blanket on him as I went to bed. Would that be called chivalry? Is there gay chivalry?

Anyway, Sunday blew donkey balls and I spent most of it on the couch catching up on soccer games from the day before and getting a little bit of work done. Jesus, my day makes church kind of look exciting. At least you get to get dressed up at church and interact with people. I realized at the end of the day on Sunday as I went to bed that I had not said a word all day. That's creepy. I hadn't even made a sound. Not even a grunt of pain as I wracked my toe against the corner of the coffee table.

Monday came. Tuesday came and I had a doctor's appointment. It was a dermatologist for a seasonal affected scalp irritation. That's right ladies; he's single. I've sat on this blog entry for two days now and decided that the main rule of this blog is unabridged honesty as long as it is entertaining and artistic exclusion to protect those acquaintances of mine that don't need to be dragged through my mud. So, this is embarrassing, but it's part of the deal. Let the chips fall where they may when it's about me.

So, I'm at the dermatologist and he checks out the scalp and gives me some shampoo. He then asks if there is anything else and I tell him that I should probably get my yearly STD test with it being Christmas time and everything. I think my last one was right around Thanksgiving so it was time. It had been an interesting year. Plus, due to recent events I was considering the peace of mind that a clean slate would be.

So, next thing I know, a man has my penis in his hand. It was kind of funny as I stood up while he put on his gloves and I said "What do I do?"

He looked back at me and just said "Drop 'em."

Now, to a relatively young heterosexual male, lab coat or not, getting a professional HJ from a man is uncomfortable. It gets even more uncomfortable when he asks you if you participate in Receptive Anal Sexual Activity. I'll spare the reader a wikipedia link there.

I looked back and said "Well, you know I experimented in college...No, dude."

So, we finished the hands-on exam and I got to go give blood and urine. See? This is the part where I am awesome. I knew I would have to give urine so I didn't use the restroom when I got to the office. This solves two problems. No pee dribbles on your undergarments and you have pee to put in the bottle. This dude is smart and seasoned. Plus, I couldn't even imagine this happening, but a spontaneous eighth grade chalkboard erection would make all parties uncomfortable during an exam and having a full tank helps this out.

Before I get to blood and urine, I would just like to point out that I'm disgusting and twisted for even writing about this, but it's happened to everyone. I swear.

So, I sign the HIV consent form saying that if they blow it I won't blame them. It's a scary form to sign for sure. I went into the lab and let the extern (I'm not sure what this means) tap a vein. I'm very vascular and she brought over three other phlebotomists to help her choose which one to poke. I guess I have the veins that phlebotomists like. She handed me a little squeezeball and then jabbed me. She did something wrong because nothing was coming out. My first thought was that this was the part where everyone finds out that I had actually been dead and no longer had blood, but I could feel it pulling. It fucking hurt bad. The oldest one came over and tweaked it a bit and the pressure let off and I gave them some blood.

The last part is the best. She handed me a biohazard bag and the bottle. She made a small mark with a Sharpie to set my goal and went and did my business. As I walked back from the bathroom, I was very nonchalant with my bag of biohazard urine and made my way down the hall without anyone noticing that I had a fist full of piss...until I bumped into the hot doctor lady.

Seriously, she was super hot like the doctors on House or any of those other doctor shows on TV. There should be a word for when you see a hot doctor, nurse, or stewardess. I used the word stewardess because there are no hot flight attendants on domestically run airlines because the ugly ones complained.

When this happened I felt like I was holding a five gallon trash can of pee with both hands. It wasn't a full-on collision worthy of a "Pardon me," but instead was a light graze enough to gain attention from the grazee, however, it was still obvious that I had been peeing in a bottle that gets put in a bag with biohazard written on it.

So, obviously after having my penis in a dude's hand, signing an HIV consent form, giving blood and peeing in a cup, I'm not really super in the mood or throwing game at all, but she was hot. It was still okay to say something charming and smart. NOPE! There is no line nor game when you have pee in your hand. I merely skulked back to the lab and dropped off my specimen and got the hell out of there feeling flush and about six years old.

Hoping for a clean slate on Friday and then pursuing a life of celibacy if only to avoid ever having to do that again. I'll throw down, don't get me wrong, but perhaps something that is more traditional in regards to timelines. Maybe let it be more special (specialer?) than getting a pizza or winning a soccer game. Jesus, what is happening to me? Also, if I see someone on Halloween dressed up as me at my annual STD exam, I'm going to get superpissed. Actually, I don't get superpissed. I will be unnerved.

So, there you go. Besides that, everything has been awesome. I can't believe I'm posting this. Whatevs. I made the bed. I'll sleep in it. I'll even wash the sheets of the bed I made.

Update: Clean Slate achieved. 5:56 GMT.

The Mix Tape: Alive and Well

Hmmm. I'm at work three hours late, two bucks short, lightly hungover, and I have an Interview Committee meeting in an hour. If I retrace my steps, this is what happened.

After work I went and bought some shaving lotion by Murad. At thirty bones a pop, I'm referring to it as a shaving treatment and referring to myself as a Metro...you know what? Scratch Metro, I'm calling myself a homo for that purchase. Swear to god, though, it's a nice shave.

After that I actually went to the grocery store and I hadn't eaten all day. This is as close as I ever come to being stoned. I bought a bunch of broccoli and some bread and cheese for grilled cheeses when it rains, but managed to buy some stoner fare: Honey BBQ twists by Frito's, a DiGiorno pizza and some Hot Wings. I didn't remember purchasing them until I put them on the conveyor for the clerk with my twenty Yoplaits. I'm seriously so gay for Yoplait.

I went home and ate dinner and planned on staying in for the night until I found my muse. I remembered a bartender telling me to put up or shut up when I called the jukebox stale. I jumped on my computer and made two of the most elitist indie hipster mix CDs for the jukebox. So, I ran them down to the bar and planned on maybe having a beer and going home. That didn't happen.

I got there a little after 9:30 and the CDs were in the jukebox and playing in their entirety by 9:45. I'm vain and love my music, so it was like hanging out with a beer and my iPod. That's a nice time. So, I had to sit there and listen to the CDs and see how the crowd reacted. Love me daddy issues like that of a stripper. Oh, I also met two girls who have got to be strippers. GOT TO BE.

When you make a mixtape you have these delusions that it can change someone's life. Like someone is going to hear that lyric in "Exodus Damage" by John Vanderslice and their life will change. Mine did a little bit, but I can't expect the same from others. Here is the set of lyrics that I found ultracompelling when I first heard the song. I seriously almost teared up:

"so the second plane hit at 9:02
I saw it live on a hotel tv, talking on my cell with you
you said this would happen, and just like that, it did
wrong about the feeling, wrong about the sound
but right to say we would stand down

an hour went by without a fighter in the sky
you said there’s a reason why
so tell me now, I must confess
I’m not sick enough to guess

dance dance revolution
all we’re gonna get
unless it falls apart
so I say: go go go
let it fall down
I’m ready for the end

so you hope that one person
could solve everything
and for me, that’s you
sometimes that dream
is a sad delusion
but sometimes it’s true"

Seriously. That is good writing. Regardless, Antonio's Nut House has one of my favorite jukeboxes in the Bay Area now. I realize it is super phonicly narcissistic, but it is what it is.

Here's the playlist of one of 'em:

1. Fuck the Valley Fudge - Grandaddy
2. Ram It Home - We Are Scientists (B-side)
3. My Lunatic Friends - Deathray
4. Song to Say Goodbye - Placebo
5. Can You See Anything? - Veto
6. One - Sunny Day Real Estate
7. When the Sun Goes Down - Arctic Monkeys (Live)
8. Don't Go Down - Elliot Smith
9. Sleep on Needles - Sondre Lerche
10. My Ghettoblaster - Brant Bjork
11. The Bends - Radiohead
12. The Slow Descent into Alcoholism - New Pornographers
13. Meds - Placebo
14. Shake the Sheets - Ted Leo and the Pharmacists
15. Whatever Happened to Corey Haim - The Thrills
16. Velvet Snow - Kings of Leon
17. Photograph - Jason Falkner
18. Beautiful - Clem Snide (Christina Aguilera cover)
19. Son's Gonna Rise - Citizen Cope
20. You Are a Knife - Veto
21. Cigarette Smoker Fiona - Arctic Monkeys

Okay, here's the second:

1. Use It - New Pornographers
2. La Costa Brava - Ted Leo and the Pharmacists
3. Store Bought Bones - The Raconteurs
4. Fortress - Pinback
5. Finer Feelings - Spoon
6. Get Me Naked 2 Electric Boogaloo - Minus the Bear
7. Can't Lose - We Are Scientists
8. Well Thought Out Twinkles - Silversun Pickups
9. Dr. L'Ling - Minus the Bear
10. Reckoner - Radiohead
11. Big Dipper - Built to Spill
12. Sender - Pinback
13. Exodus Damage - John Vanderslice
14. Freeze the Saints - Stephen Malkmus
15. Apology Song - The Decemberists
16. The Pioneers - Tunng
17. A Call to Apathy - The Shins

I did hear good things about it, too. So, I hung out too late. Sent one semi-bitter/ill-advised e-mail at three in the morning. What happened was this. I was dreaming in an English accent again. Seriously, you do not want this to happen to you. It's miserable. I don't know how the English do it. So, I was up at three in the morning and couldn't sleep and a little out of it and I checked my work e-mail. It was 9:00 AM GMT, so I was technically working. When you are sleepy and lucid, your mind fucks with you. It's like living out your subconscious. That is a world that no one wants to be in. Could you imagine a world without emotional fences and boundaries and half-truths and lies for the benefits of others? I'll say it over and over. It is what it is.

So, 19 minutes until this meeting of reviewing 25 resumes and coming up with five imperative questions to ask candidates. I've got one that goes "If Eddie Munster's dad was a Frankenstein and his mom was a vampire; how was he a werewolf?" The second question I have is just to challenge prospective candidates to a footrace. Technically, asking someone to race counts as a question. Third question is "Quien es mas macho? Senor Burt Reynolds o Senor Tom Selleck?" Fourth question is "Do these pants make my ass look fat?" Fifth question is "What do you think was in the case in Pulp Fiction?

Shit. Done and done. Work is so easy. If you are reading this, I hope you are having a wonderful Friday or weekend. I care about you all deeply.

Update: I just went into the break room at work to grab a Diet Hansen's (so good and plastic tasting like a nice scotch) and I think someone at work has figured out how to microwave farts. Swear to god. It's either that or they are microwaving a dirty diaper and muddy, sweaty tube sock.