for the time being

read this: http://thisplaceisdeadanyway.blogspot.com/2006/12/lethal-christmas-party-punch-before-40.html

Does anyone read this anymore?

For those of you who have been sick with worry, alas, I am still alive. I've holed myself up in the studio working for the last three months and have surfaced to find that much has changed (Let's all hope that Britney starts shelling out some cash for PANTIES).
Anyway I digress...I shall try to keep up with the updates next semester and muster up a decent post in the coming weeks. Perhaps a new leaf shall be turned for this h8ter.
Until then, um...wait.

What have you done for me lately?

I have struggled with cell phones for years...with few victories. I once had a cell phone that my father paid for; but with him holding that ancient phone over my head (that I could only use outdoors for three days a week) I went on to bigger and better things at the ripe age of 17. Thanks to Mom, I had the credit to get my own. Good 'ol AT&T. I bought it at a very ghetto place on St. Marks, who rather than actually canceling my old one, just set up the new account. So for a long time I got two bills. I filed many offical complaints and about 6 bills later they finally severed my account. They could not reimburse me for those bills, but they wouldn't charge me for the cancelation. Um...thanks.
After being notified that I was absorbed by Cingular (just as Bank of America absorbed my Fleet account), I recieved a VERY high bill. I yelled at them for about 15 mins until they finally agreed not to lower my bill, but give me 600ish extra minutes per month, no extra charge! (This is when my luck turned around.) In combination with unlimited nights and weekend, 12 months later I have more than 7000 rollover minutes. Hell yes.

Now for my current issue. Last week I went to inquire about replacing my phone at the Cingular store. They informed me that as of September 4th I will have had my phone for 18 months and that I would be eligible for an upgrade! Quite karmicly, about 6 days later my phone broke...in half. However, due to Labor Day, I might not be able to get it until Tuesday. (photo soon to be added below)

I think that one may have been a draw (well played, Cingular).

I'm finding myself ever aware of how much I need my cell phone. It's been completely unusable for about 7 hours and already I feel alone, helpless, and very very bored.
It made me think of the early Seinfeld episodes where Elaine, Jerry, and occationally kramer would be forced to use payphones. Now I am one of those people. Actually that's not true, I borrow a friend's...but still!

On the con side of things, as a result of cell phones most social groups no longer have "regular hangouts." There's nowhere in the city I can think of going to that has a remotely likely chance of me running into someone I want to see (the high traffic spots are risky to hang around, for fear of the exes and idiots). I'm not sure if that's comforting or depressing. (Are we becoming more isolated or more connected in this techinical age?)

Meanwhile, I have been informed of a new beer made from green tea, that had antioxidents.
Um, I'm sorry, did you little hipsters not realize that beer wasn't a health food? That is the natural state of alcohol, generally not health improving. How much of a wimp can you be? For christs sake, what's next? "All new improved cocaine with tea tree powder (to help sooth those irrtated sinuses)?"

I also just picked up my bike, that was shipped from Colorado. I'm pretty nervous about riding it in the city, but hope to get over that after a couple weeks of commuting. Because you know what? FUCK the fucking L train. I can't imagine I'm alone on this one...

Also: two New Party Clubs in October. I will be performing at at least one. More deatails to come on that.

Neurontin/Effexor XR/Trazadone/Klonopin/Celexa/Zyprexa/Depacote(sp?)/Atavan/Aderol Nation?

A conversation with JD today reminded me of my occasionally forgotten dream to turn my "life that is the work of bad fiction" into a cheesy memoir. My target audience, naturally, would be those between the ages of 14 and 19. It wouldn't be intentionally cheesy, but it seems that my kind of story is a common sort for these things.
The question is, at what age/point in life can you write a memoir? It's not like you can write a part 2 when things get more interesting. Or can you? And how full of myself am I for asking?
Does anyone care about this?

Alright, enough of this self indulgence...
Who's psyched about fucking Lou Reed performing Berlin!!! Holy shit, that album is pure genius. Somehow I have yet to see Lou Reed, and I mean "let's face it, (he)should be dead." But now...now I have my chance...for $65. Hm...

Um...what else, what...else... The truth is I don't have much to say at the moment. I'm just really, really bored at work. I'm sure some of you can relate. In fact I would imagine some of you are very bored...right...now. And you're thinking to yourself, "is this all this bitch has got? Cuz you gotta do better than that if you want to stay on my bored at work favorite blogs." Well I'm sorry to disappoint, but I...don't care.
L8r.

A look of space and total life; ready...or...not.

My faithful readers. The end of summer is slowly drawing near, and I'm starting to get mighty nostalgic. So many great shows, a southern road trip, hiatus in NH, a couple trips, yoga in the park, beautiful days, a new apartment...the list goes on.
But speaking of apartments, I'd like to offer you an official update. My roommate Ms. Gold had finally moved in a startling 6 weeks after our lease began. Although she's, um, not here for another couple days. I've been thrilled to find that my plants are lovin' the light here, and the location (yes, ye olde Bedforde Avenue) is tremendously convenient. There have been a couple unpleasant snags such as the evidence of mice and the prehistoric sized cockroach (see below), but all and all it's been great.



There's a creepy mystery space outside my bathroom window. There is no sky above the airshaft, it's just an empty hole in the building.


(looking down)


(looking up)


Eerie isn't it? Very Silence of the Lambs.

Hey, does anyone know a killer brunch place near Bedford Avenue? It must be relatively cheap (under 15 for bfast coffee and tip), lots of food, and good. Lemme know about that...




Mark your calenders, the end of summer wrap-up is coming soon!

"I'm gonna go onstage, I'm gonna vomit, then light it on fire, and then I'm gonna eat it."

It is very rare that I pay $200ish to see a band at a big festival, and am so blown away by the the ferocity of the performance that I shell out another $35 to see them again a mere two months later. I guess technically there's just one that fits those specific qualifications, and that band is Sonic Youth.
With their help, I experienced a second rock'n'roll fantasy weekend. Yeah yeah Yeahs, Beirut, Deerhoof, Apollo sunshine, Sonic Youth, and a killer jazz band whose named still remains a mystery. I'm gonna skip the play-by-play breakdown (you can get your kicks from Max), but all involved pretty much blew my mind. AND to top that, yesterday we went to the beach!

But moving on, I feel there a few urgent issues I must address:
First I would like to make a statement to a certain group of men who are trapsing around New York wearing these little vintage runing shorts. What makes you think that those things look cool? Unless you're playing high school basketball in the 1970s you have NO BUSINESS wearing them. No one wants to see your white, spindly, hairy legs in their full glory within bright orange "practically hotpants," and more importantly I don't. Plus a lot of these tools aren't sporting what's necessary to insure full coverage of the uh, bathing suit area. "They're out; and there's nothing between them and us but a thin layer of cheap nylon."

Secondly I would like to add a second reason why I h8t the alias "The Man in the Brown Hat." Does anyone remember Reservoir Dogs? (I choose to assume that no one who reads this blog hasn't seen it.) There's this scene where Tarantino expressed discomfort with his code name "Mr. Brown." The reason, of course, is that calling him "Mr Brown" is basically calling him "Mr. Shit." Now then, why would you want to be The Man in the Shit Hat?
Hm?
Score:
MBH- 0
SH8H- 1

PS: I promise I'm going to post more soon. Really this time...

There are haters, you know.

It has come to my attention that there is a certain column in the Onion called "The Hater" written by Amelie Gillette, it is exactly what it seems in that it is a column detailing her hatred of this and that, pop culture, etc. I would like to take this opportunity to say that as far as I can tell from the archives (though I saw her column in the print version), my blog was born months before her column. Now, is it a little paranoid to think that she lifted her name from my very own blog, despite the fact that "hater" is a fairly common term used by many writers and hipsters alike? Probably, but my reason for writing this is not because I mean to accuse her of stealing my ideas for her own column (cough, yeti, cough cough), but because I am anticipating someone asking me if I got the idea for my blog based on her column, and then wanting to punch said person in the face.

That being said, there are a few unsettling similarities. First, the "intro to the column" column. She begins by detailing why she writes the column, making her confidence in her opinion known/making her superiority clear. She then lists things one might come to expect from "The Hater" in the future. Does this sound familiar yet? I'm just saying...

Also, what's up with her "Fuck snakes on a plane" thing? SamLJ can do no wrong in my eyes, and as far as I'm concerned, basically shits gold. Besides, what would possess you to diss a badass like SLJ anyway? You know, sometimes it's not about the quality of the film, but the spirit of the project. No? Well, I would be careful who you talk to about that... For the record, I would watch a movie just to see SLJ say "motherfucker every five seconds." ALSO, there are numbers on those scrabble letters on her column header, and what do the numbers on the h's add up to? 8!!!!!
Additionally, I DO get paid largish sums of money to watch things like "So you think you can dance." And I'm not ashamed...exactly. As Fists often says "You are not able to say things like 'you couldn't pay me to watch Extreme Makeover: Home Edition', because you are!"
All kidding aside, I like this little column. I respect the spirit of so no hard feelings AG, I'm just looking out for my best interest. (All I want is what's coming to me, all i want is my fair share! Just send 10s and 20s...)
So, there's that.
Also it has come to my attention that Rebecca Schumann of "Nothing to see here" in the The L Magazine used to work at my job up until a month ago, AND that one of my favorite people at work knows her. Those who know about me and my undying support of the L magazine can imagine my excitement.
***
And now....about this new Sufjan album. I love Sufjan, you all know that...but I have very mixed feelings about this. I wouldn't say that I don't like it, and it may still grow on me, but at this point it sounds like what it says; which is to say that these songs didn't make the cut, but they played a few here and there on the tour. There are a few that I really like; in the case of sufjan I've always loved his albums from the start, and there was never a question. but this? I feel I'm already giving a huge benefit of the doubt, actually trying very hard to like it because I crave more (MORE!!!!). The jury's still out. More up[dates to come. Sorry SS, but don't fret. I'm still coming to your show and I still love you, even though you don't love me (yet).

One more quick note: I am writing this from a Williamsburg coffee shop/wireless internet oasis. There are eight people on their laptop including myself. Three Mac iBook G4s, four Mac Powerbook G4s, and one lonely Dell. Oh Dell, so young to be out to pasture...it warms my heart. Oh, shit, two lonely Dells. Well Dell, I see you've fooled me again. What are you, fucking Skeletor? (Delletor?)