It's October 29th and I haven't heard Dead Man's Party ONCE this month.
Come on people. Get with the program! Everybody's coming, BUT- leave your body at the door.
This Halloween, I want to feel like I was struck by lightning walking down the street; I want a chauffeur to come to my door and say there's room for MAYBE just one more.
Come on, people. Don't run away, it's only me. Jeff! You're reading my blog (and if you know what's good for you, you're SUBSCRIBING)!
Help me make this Halloween as rockin' as every other Halloween in history and start spinning Dead Man's Party. NOW. FUCKING NOW I TELL YOU.
Is there a better song to play on Halloween? I dare you.
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Friday, October 27, 2006
NPR – 2 Serious 4 U
In talking about the incoming president of Gallaudet, the National Deaf University:
"Students complain that she is cold, has pushed out established faculty, and she doesn..t listen."
No shit.
"Students complain that she is cold, has pushed out established faculty, and she doesn..t listen."
No shit.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Basement or Bonus Room
Growing up in Los Angeles, in a magnificent expanse of concrete, plastic, and steel, living in a particularly wealthy area, I never really experienced the magic of going over to a friend's basement or alternatively, an attic. My grandmother had a storage area we referred to as an attic, because of it's attic-like shape, but you didn't have to climb a special staircase to get there. I've never known of anyone having a basement either, although I suppose it's possible this resulted in me having only played Dungeons and Dragons once, in someone..s cold garage(and never being asked back(frowny face?)).
Instead, most of my friends had what was often referred to as a "bonus room." The Bonus Room came in two forms, an enormous family room on the second floor(usually containing a bar that was never used because we were always sneaking liquor out of the downstairs bar), or an extra bedroom that was generally extremely large for a second bedroom, thusly becoming "The Bonus Room."
I would love to hypothesize as to the differences in growing up without a basement versus with one, but again, because I never knew anyone that had a basement I can't think of anyone that exceptionally affected either way. Besides, the bonus room was really for kids, almost 100%. My memories don't recall any bonus room that wasn't dominated by a Sega Genesis, a box of GI Joes or My Little Ponies, or six tubs of Lincoln Logs. It was only when we got older that I started seeing grownups partake in the antics of the Bonus Room.
Keep in mind, I never had a Bonus Room, though many of my friends did. At our house we had a living room, a family room, and a den. However, my memory is a bit fuzzy, there was a recent argument about the validity of said Den. It could be an extension of the family room or an office. I claim that it is a den because that..s where my Dad still spends a lot of his time, at his desk or at his keyboard practicing- it..s really my Dad's room/office, which to me is a den.
I suppose I would like a basement someday to experience that feeling of going underground to hang out and listen to records and play Magic: The Gathering. But I'd just as much enjoy a Bonus Room, Library, Study, Den, or BackHouse.
Instead, most of my friends had what was often referred to as a "bonus room." The Bonus Room came in two forms, an enormous family room on the second floor(usually containing a bar that was never used because we were always sneaking liquor out of the downstairs bar), or an extra bedroom that was generally extremely large for a second bedroom, thusly becoming "The Bonus Room."
I would love to hypothesize as to the differences in growing up without a basement versus with one, but again, because I never knew anyone that had a basement I can't think of anyone that exceptionally affected either way. Besides, the bonus room was really for kids, almost 100%. My memories don't recall any bonus room that wasn't dominated by a Sega Genesis, a box of GI Joes or My Little Ponies, or six tubs of Lincoln Logs. It was only when we got older that I started seeing grownups partake in the antics of the Bonus Room.
Keep in mind, I never had a Bonus Room, though many of my friends did. At our house we had a living room, a family room, and a den. However, my memory is a bit fuzzy, there was a recent argument about the validity of said Den. It could be an extension of the family room or an office. I claim that it is a den because that..s where my Dad still spends a lot of his time, at his desk or at his keyboard practicing- it..s really my Dad's room/office, which to me is a den.
I suppose I would like a basement someday to experience that feeling of going underground to hang out and listen to records and play Magic: The Gathering. But I'd just as much enjoy a Bonus Room, Library, Study, Den, or BackHouse.
Monday, October 23, 2006
100
What a milestone! I've reached my one hundredth blog post today! Huzzah! Huzzah! Huzzah!
Here are some stats for your number crunchers to enjoy:
Posts: 100!
Comments: 154
Views: 3807
Kudos: 57
Subscribers: 18! (more more more!)
Here are my three favorite blogs:
Tha Economist
ToonTown is a Bad Idea(w/ SuperStar Limo pics)
Explosions!
If anyone else has recollections, memories, or thoughts post them below on this momentous occasion!
Here's to another one hundred MySpace blog posts! Huzzah!
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Even I Don't Believe Me
While I quite possibly may be one of the greatest minds in the last three decades, alongside praised geniuses like, Walter Gilbert and Frederick Sanger, Russel A. Hulse, and Kurt Cobain; even though my powerful mind encapsulates the struggles of the greater commonwealth and everyday man, a net of intelligentsia in one consciousness with a five o clock shadow; but if there is one thing that hinders me from unraveling the very threads holding reality together and discovering the singular unifying theory to all the world, it's that I can't argue worth a god damn.
Even I'm never convinced by myself! My thoughts move faster than light, synapses firing in split-split seconds, calculating logic before logic processes it's own existence, and yet, I can't convince my producer that the title of their movie is somewhat awkward and confusing and possibly going to turn off potential audience members. I have six quadrillion items to prove this is the case, but can't articulate a single one into a comprehensive sentence.
What normally happens is a derivative of the following:
Step 1.) An opposing viewpoint to my own is presented; I conceive that this idea is a poor one and formulate the answer in a trillisecond.
Step 2.) I stutter.
Step 3.) Opposing viewpoint wins as I am left repeating something along the lines of, "seriously, it's a bad idea." While the opposing viewpoint presenter exclaims (in smug victory), "But you haven't convinced me!"
That's just it, I'm not a convincer. I'm more of a "you're-about-to-make-a-serious-mistake-that-I-can-foresee-and-you-should-listen-to-me-based-solely-on-me-being-genius-incarnate." Yet somehow that never really convinces anyone.
The lazy a-hole in my wants to blame the people I argue with are just a bunch of tight-assed, close-minded toolio's, crusing down the road to south obtuse central, in their brand new Cadillac Intolerance.
If there was a class I could take, I would love to become better at arguing, but I'm not sure I have the patience for four or sixs weeks of homework about debating when, in a perfect, Matrix-like world, I could just download the information to my brain. Although I guess if that were the case, we would be able to zap our ironclad opinions into each others brains and I wouldn't be writing this blog.
Also, I wouldn't be writing this blog- I would be thinking it into existence.
Also, I would be a slave to a robot society.
Jesus, this blog sucks.
Even I'm never convinced by myself! My thoughts move faster than light, synapses firing in split-split seconds, calculating logic before logic processes it's own existence, and yet, I can't convince my producer that the title of their movie is somewhat awkward and confusing and possibly going to turn off potential audience members. I have six quadrillion items to prove this is the case, but can't articulate a single one into a comprehensive sentence.
What normally happens is a derivative of the following:
Step 1.) An opposing viewpoint to my own is presented; I conceive that this idea is a poor one and formulate the answer in a trillisecond.
Step 2.) I stutter.
Step 3.) Opposing viewpoint wins as I am left repeating something along the lines of, "seriously, it's a bad idea." While the opposing viewpoint presenter exclaims (in smug victory), "But you haven't convinced me!"
That's just it, I'm not a convincer. I'm more of a "you're-about-to-make-a-serious-mistake-that-I-can-foresee-and-you-should-listen-to-me-based-solely-on-me-being-genius-incarnate." Yet somehow that never really convinces anyone.
The lazy a-hole in my wants to blame the people I argue with are just a bunch of tight-assed, close-minded toolio's, crusing down the road to south obtuse central, in their brand new Cadillac Intolerance.
If there was a class I could take, I would love to become better at arguing, but I'm not sure I have the patience for four or sixs weeks of homework about debating when, in a perfect, Matrix-like world, I could just download the information to my brain. Although I guess if that were the case, we would be able to zap our ironclad opinions into each others brains and I wouldn't be writing this blog.
Also, I wouldn't be writing this blog- I would be thinking it into existence.
Also, I would be a slave to a robot society.
Jesus, this blog sucks.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
J1ff-3 LooB3
I just plowed through my first big budge commercial shoot. It was not as horrifying as I was fearing it was and the entire crew was douche-free(a bizarre rarity), not to mention we wrapped 3 hours early.
Here's a great line- "What were we talking about?" " Jeremy was telling his Hi-LARIOUS stories about escaping Katrina."
Crossing fingers, I'll be off work next week and get some serious shit done. I'd take three months off if I could, travel around and visit all my friends, but I've got to feed the monkey.
Me. I'm the monkey. Monkey needs food.
And shower and sleep, and tomorrow some laundry.
Here's a great line- "What were we talking about?" " Jeremy was telling his Hi-LARIOUS stories about escaping Katrina."
Crossing fingers, I'll be off work next week and get some serious shit done. I'd take three months off if I could, travel around and visit all my friends, but I've got to feed the monkey.
Me. I'm the monkey. Monkey needs food.
And shower and sleep, and tomorrow some laundry.
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Addiction: UPDATED!
A few weeks ago I blogged about my realization that I am addicted to coffee. I realized this because I went a day without coffee and got a huge, pulsing headache the next day around the time I would be throwing one back.
Yesterday, we had a team of doctors in the office talking to our documentary subject about his possible or un-possible addiction to marijuana. A sidebar came up about his (supposed) withdrawal while he was sober and how he didn't experience too many bad side effects of withdrawal. Dr. Gary Cohan explained simply the effects of caffeine addiction and marijuana addiction.
In so many words:
Tetrahydracannabinol(THC), the euphoric ingredient in marijuana, is fat soluble which is why it stays in your system for 12 weeks (most people think 30 days, but if you are a heavy pot user, small amounts will still be noticeable for at least double that). The THC being stored in your fat is why you don..t have any withdrawal effects- it leaves your system slowly over 12 weeks, where as caffeine, comes out all at once. The same goes for nicotine.
The fat soluble nature of THC is also the reason potheads can bake it into delicious cakes and cookies.
So it was nice to know that the withdrawal from my marijuana usage (due to this project) will be a nice and slow one, while my withdrawal from my job working on the marijuana documentary will include the splitting headache of looking for a new job on Monday.
Other things I am addicted to:
Guitar Hero
Spanky Wilson & The Quantic Soul Orchestra
Spray can wood stain - American Oak
Books of aerial photography of large American cities
Trader Joe's asian chicken salad
Drawn out set-ups to obvious and somewhat bad jokes
Terry Gilliam movies about time-traveling midgets and/or children
The Prospector
Yesterday, we had a team of doctors in the office talking to our documentary subject about his possible or un-possible addiction to marijuana. A sidebar came up about his (supposed) withdrawal while he was sober and how he didn't experience too many bad side effects of withdrawal. Dr. Gary Cohan explained simply the effects of caffeine addiction and marijuana addiction.
In so many words:
Tetrahydracannabinol(THC), the euphoric ingredient in marijuana, is fat soluble which is why it stays in your system for 12 weeks (most people think 30 days, but if you are a heavy pot user, small amounts will still be noticeable for at least double that). The THC being stored in your fat is why you don..t have any withdrawal effects- it leaves your system slowly over 12 weeks, where as caffeine, comes out all at once. The same goes for nicotine.
The fat soluble nature of THC is also the reason potheads can bake it into delicious cakes and cookies.
So it was nice to know that the withdrawal from my marijuana usage (due to this project) will be a nice and slow one, while my withdrawal from my job working on the marijuana documentary will include the splitting headache of looking for a new job on Monday.
Other things I am addicted to:
Guitar Hero
Spanky Wilson & The Quantic Soul Orchestra
Spray can wood stain - American Oak
Books of aerial photography of large American cities
Trader Joe's asian chicken salad
Drawn out set-ups to obvious and somewhat bad jokes
Terry Gilliam movies about time-traveling midgets and/or children
The Prospector
Saturday, October 7, 2006
Post-Contemporary Media Commentary
Q: Why is "The Running Man" such an awesome movie?
A: Because I'm drunk and I say so.
Viva El Reno Room!
A: Because I'm drunk and I say so.
Viva El Reno Room!
Friday, October 6, 2006
Anti-No-Weezer
Can we please stop not talking about Weezer?
What..s it going to take, America, to keep these scrappy hipsters at the forefront of the popular music debate? Weezer is an important aspect of our music culture, because they went from really good to retardedly bad in the time it takes to grow a Steven Seagal ponytail.
You know, that song "Hash Pipe" wasn't too bad. What about that video with the muppets that was so sweet and quaintly nostalgic, even though that "Happy Days" parody by Spike Jones was a lot better(meaning sweeter and more quaintly nostalgic).
But Weezer's pathetic decline deserves our attention MUCH more than we are giving them. Rivers Cuomo NEEDS us to talk about his shortcomings as a born again song writer. Otherwise he wouldn't have posted his Harvard thesis on his MySpace blog.
Why are you listening to the Killers? Who cares about your faggy emo whiney distorted sheep music? Who..s soul are you killing when you drop a dime on Evanessence?
I'll tell you whose soul you are killing- Nerd rockers everywhere that are being forced to NOT follow in Weezer's footsteps and are putting on eyeliner and writing about slutty girls rather than wearing sweaters and being emotionally distant unavailable lesbians you can..t forget about.
It's time to step up to the plate and pledge yourself to the Anti-Non-Weezer Faction. We..ll have Pinkerton listening parties and talk about how great Pinkerton is as a ..listen all the way through.. album, while we spurn such trite singles as ..Beverly Hills,.. laughable attempts at ..edge.. like ..We Are All On Drugs,.. and the bland safety dance of ..Island in the Sun...
Rise up, people and fight back against the tyranny of the real menace to America .. Anti-Weezer sentiments. Bring back the dejected, bespecaled, shaggy haired, nerd-charmers, that we fell in love with during the salad days of the 90s.
You may begin the resurgence of Weezer propaganda below where, following the conclusion of this blog, we will have a pointed discussion in the "comments" section.
Also, if you have yet to subscribe to this blog, now is the best time to jump on the CrockBlog Bandwagon! Join us before the end of the year and a special prize will be yours!
What..s it going to take, America, to keep these scrappy hipsters at the forefront of the popular music debate? Weezer is an important aspect of our music culture, because they went from really good to retardedly bad in the time it takes to grow a Steven Seagal ponytail.
You know, that song "Hash Pipe" wasn't too bad. What about that video with the muppets that was so sweet and quaintly nostalgic, even though that "Happy Days" parody by Spike Jones was a lot better(meaning sweeter and more quaintly nostalgic).
But Weezer's pathetic decline deserves our attention MUCH more than we are giving them. Rivers Cuomo NEEDS us to talk about his shortcomings as a born again song writer. Otherwise he wouldn't have posted his Harvard thesis on his MySpace blog.
Why are you listening to the Killers? Who cares about your faggy emo whiney distorted sheep music? Who..s soul are you killing when you drop a dime on Evanessence?
I'll tell you whose soul you are killing- Nerd rockers everywhere that are being forced to NOT follow in Weezer's footsteps and are putting on eyeliner and writing about slutty girls rather than wearing sweaters and being emotionally distant unavailable lesbians you can..t forget about.
It's time to step up to the plate and pledge yourself to the Anti-Non-Weezer Faction. We..ll have Pinkerton listening parties and talk about how great Pinkerton is as a ..listen all the way through.. album, while we spurn such trite singles as ..Beverly Hills,.. laughable attempts at ..edge.. like ..We Are All On Drugs,.. and the bland safety dance of ..Island in the Sun...
Rise up, people and fight back against the tyranny of the real menace to America .. Anti-Weezer sentiments. Bring back the dejected, bespecaled, shaggy haired, nerd-charmers, that we fell in love with during the salad days of the 90s.
You may begin the resurgence of Weezer propaganda below where, following the conclusion of this blog, we will have a pointed discussion in the "comments" section.
Also, if you have yet to subscribe to this blog, now is the best time to jump on the CrockBlog Bandwagon! Join us before the end of the year and a special prize will be yours!
Wednesday, October 4, 2006
Back in Action!
My computer, whom I've finally christened "HammerTop,*" is back in action and I'm happily rolling along with my life.
Last night was the last day of principal photography for this documentary I've been working on and it couldn't have gone out in more style, less clothing.
We threw a huge party with the Suicide Girls and I got to kill two lifetime achievement birds with one Class I narcotic stone: hanging out with the Suicide Girls and seeing them wearing t-shirts I designed.**
Considering the subject matter of the documentary, there couldn't have possibly been a better day after Yom Kippur than anyone could have dreamed. Smokes, drinks, tats, and tits; TAKE THAT, DAY OF ATONEMENT!
I'm still working these crumby hours for another week or so, but I'll be back to the land of the living soon and we..ll go rock the Prospector. FOR REAL. And of course, I'll try and keep up this place more often than not.
* See previous post.
** No. I didn't have my camera with me, and while I kick myself until eternity, I will note that there were three cameras covering the entire event so I'll post a picture one day, not to mention some fucking righteous video. The second reason there aren't any pictures is supposedly the t-shirts are going to be an integral part of the marketing of this documentary and we have to keep it very quiet until the film is complete.
Last night was the last day of principal photography for this documentary I've been working on and it couldn't have gone out in more style, less clothing.
We threw a huge party with the Suicide Girls and I got to kill two lifetime achievement birds with one Class I narcotic stone: hanging out with the Suicide Girls and seeing them wearing t-shirts I designed.**
Considering the subject matter of the documentary, there couldn't have possibly been a better day after Yom Kippur than anyone could have dreamed. Smokes, drinks, tats, and tits; TAKE THAT, DAY OF ATONEMENT!
I'm still working these crumby hours for another week or so, but I'll be back to the land of the living soon and we..ll go rock the Prospector. FOR REAL. And of course, I'll try and keep up this place more often than not.
* See previous post.
** No. I didn't have my camera with me, and while I kick myself until eternity, I will note that there were three cameras covering the entire event so I'll post a picture one day, not to mention some fucking righteous video. The second reason there aren't any pictures is supposedly the t-shirts are going to be an integral part of the marketing of this documentary and we have to keep it very quiet until the film is complete.
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