Fools Goaled

you digital rubes, pt. 2

2009-06-15T00:21:00.016-04:00

solid power pop isn't dead.
and it's coming (cheap) to your town next month.

really.

I just got back from my virgin voyage to athens, georgia, to see old war pals the kyle sowashes perform at michael stipe's club, the go bar. powerful drinks/sound/patio for such a dinky venue, and the sowashes delivered a rare pavement song that pays tribute to r.e.m. (wrap your medulla around that one!)

this essay was just gonna be about how phenomenally awesome bizarro wuxtry is. the slightly schizophrenic comic/toy shop hums with the yellowed plastic of your action figure childhood, boasting original dolls from planet of the apes, eightball comics statuettes, and classically rad smut. it's a veritable shangri-la of all of your full-page-sea-monkey-ad fantasies. sic: when they moved, my parents had somehow lost my copy of the rare madman comics #5, ("boasting" a fanboy letter from a 16-yr-old me), and upon mention the bizarro wuxtry guys pulled out three copies with boisterous aplomb. how cool is this place? the business card they gave me was cut from a cardboard pancake mix box and multicolor silkscreened/stamped by hand. please tell me what other fucking comic book shop in the world does this.

revisiting my sexless puberty was nice, but I had to stumble down to wuxtry records (located immediately below its sister kitschenette) to fondle their stacked vinyl selection. when you live in an art school town as retardedly devoid of a music scene or record shops as savannah is, wuxtry starts to make you tick with frenetic joy. one of my "put-back" records was an import from the early 80's sung by neil from the young ones. jeebus.

I nabbed the optimist's club, an album that landed locals casper and the cookies an opening slot on the apples in stereo's 2007 tour. the lead guy jason nesmith used to play in of montreal, eat noodles with that recluse from neutral milk hotel, and blah blah blah you athens jerks make me puke with your wealth of talent.

all name-dropping elephant sixery aside, this album's the goods. beach boys references get tossed around too much these days, but the optimist's club shimmers like brian wilson took an ak-47 to the capitol records building during a heat wave and rerecorded wild honey with the wrecking crew as his hostages. it's a soundtrack to cleaning your house and enjoying it. it's a soundtrack to living room life. it's a soundtrack to...a soundtrack: written, eschewed, and vomited into an echo chamber that radiates rainbow bile swimming from your ears to the dreamy part of your brain. "things to do before we die" lulls you like slowly passing out on a grandmother's davenport adrift in a tub of warm marshmallow creme. "sid from central park" certifies the balls that swing below the wistfully flourishing heart of "neo dada heyday".

the reason you guys are digital rubes this time around is cuz the download/cd version of this album comes with neither the bonus track "stratosphere", nor the silk-screened cover (under 500 made and numbered), nor an ebuillant blue bowling ball marble-burst pattern. so when you go see casper and the cookies at one of these fine live shows (edited for where you, my mongoloid friends, reside), be sure to stop at the merch table to pick the vinyl up. did I mention that these guys got notorious because of their live show antics, in a town where wonderful shows are a dime a dozen? (see 4:45 below: strapping lead guitar to member of audience)

july 16 - columbus, oh - circus

july 17 - youngstown, oh - cedar's lounge

july 20 - boston, ma - middle east

july 22 - brooklyn, ny - bruar falls

aug 6 - des moines, ia - vaudeville mews

aug 7 - minneapolis, mn - nomad world pub

aug 11 - iowa city, ia - the mill

aug 14 - chicago, il - beat kitchen

...casper and the cookies will (of course) not be stopping in savannah.

(um, this review is kinda jank because the band is actually touring to promote a newer album, modern silence, which I don't know shit about. hey, I only get out of the house so often.)

mu-v's, pt. II (guest columnist)

2009-05-30T17:12:00.004-04:00

terminator: salvation
by matthew wilke

they should've stabbed john connor in the dick, and then make him get a dick transplant from that one teenage kid at the end. then when kyle reese has to go back in time he has to fuck his own mother. it's this complete oedipal fucking travesty and that's the movie I'd like to see.

----------------------------------------------------

drag me to hell
by lee keeler

surprise/sleeper best film all damn summer.

sam raimi has been waiting to make this film since he was 14, and it shows. the guy has a zillion-dollar budget, and still makes you shit your pants with fear from camera angles and sound editing alone. the Indian fortune teller's face when he first reads the chicks palm is straight fucked-up...torturously, awesomely slow. people were hooting after the scene in the parking garage, and the momentum was like watching a car wreck from then on out.

a friend of mine told me he went to this stoned on opening night. after that he couldn't sleep until the sun went up, and kept rolling over in bed to look at his girlfriend's brightly colored shirts to keep him from thinking there was a fucking bavarian witch in the room.

I was gonna go tell everybody to go see Star Trek again while it's still in theaters. fuck that. get your ass to this movie, and bring some friends. it's not only a movie you'll be talking about in the parking lot, but you'll be looking over your shoulder in the car on the way home, that's for damn sure.

new dolby fuckers songs

2009-05-08T12:37:00.003-04:00

i had/have a band in columbus, the dolby fuckers.

we recorded a bunch of stuff last august for a new album this year.

here's some demos for those songs.

see you in september.

phil please book us a show in cleveland.

mu-v's (featuring guest columnists)

2009-04-14T18:42:00.009-04:00

updated: I am typing in red ink, which is universal e-speak that this article isn't stale
here's some film reviews, buttmunchers

x-men origins: wolverine (spoilers?)
by lee keeler

I got my hands on one of those early leak copies that fox was being all pissy about.

yeah, I know all of the other x-men movies suck, so how could you even start to think that this might possibly even be good? well, while the x-men movies mostly do munch rotten carpet, there are still some good patches in there. and I don't think it was too much of a stretch to expect them not to fuck up weapon x: it's a guy, in the snow, with a bunch of lazer-tag shit strapped to him, killing people and hanging out with wolves.

they fucked it up. how, I will never know. but I gotta say, for how terrible the movie is, the pre-rendered CGI print is strangely surrealistic, like some kind of ironic animatic Lichtenstein on crack.

here's the rundown:

-deadpool, who is one of two only good characters that rob liefeld managed to scrape together back when he was doing button-fly commercials, starts off really strong. ryan reynolds, who (along with sean william scott) rocks some "burt reynolds jr." cred in my book, captures the tone of the character right out the gate.

-logan goes on a "rampage" with sabretooth in a jungle village, until he gets sad that they're being bad guys who kill a lot. so he walks away.

-logan hooks up with a half-asian chick who I can't tell is supposed to be yoriko, the love of his life, or not. so, uh, she dies. he gets mad, and walks away.

-logan is weapon X for all of 2 minutes, completely disregarding and trashing barry windsor smith's quiet masterpiece for the waning marvel comics presents. logan then goes to a farm, has superman's origin with a harley, then gets sad and walks away.

-the blob has a scene, which is completely pointless to the story, in a boring, goofy-as-hell boxing match used for (pardon the pun) flabby exposition. completely fucking useless. some bush-league adam-west-batman shit right here. oh yeah, logan takes his information and walks away.

-we meet gambit, who dances and makes things explode. glamorous. it's like watching the musical cats, if michael bay adapted it to screen.

-deadpool comes back! wait...what? he's not...deadpool? they just use the name, calling him "weapon eleven", and he's got everybody's powers! complete dogshit concept, bottom-of-the-barrel skinimax villain threat. basically, they turn deadpool into mimic, an old kirby 60's villain that was so lame that even the shitty comics killed his ass fifty years ago, long before wolverine was even invented. except he looks like jason voorhees without the hockey mask.

-wolverine liberates all of the mutants on an island (didn't he do that in the worst x-men film that just came out a few years back?) and is indirectly the reason the x-men got started! a-durp! then he walks aways!

-stryker commands mimic from a shitty keyboard in an action sequence that looks like something from mighty morphin power rangers. intense. then he gets hypnotized by a boring mutant chick we've never heard of before and walks away.

-by the end, the evidently rampant rewrites/reshoots stretch an already threadbare plot to the breaking point, and the "logic" of the "plot" landslides into retardation: why didn't professor X just use his brain powers earlier, to stop stryker? or even, like, five minutes earlier, and stop wolverine from getting shot in the head? wolverine gets his amnesia from getting shot in the head by an adamantium bullet? are you shitting me? what about all the times he got shot in the head over the hundreds of years before that? he remembered all those moments just fine, and those weren't life-shattering things like getting your chick killed and your skeleton deep-fried in adamantium. and if deadpool/mimic has all the badass mutant powers, what does he need giant swords in his arms for? and, I'm sorry, but when the swords are "hidden" in his arms, how does he bend his elbows? how far can stryker really walk, if they're on a tiny little island?

-woah not so fast, there's a teaser tag at the end! is it gonna be nick fury?....no? no. it's a quote from a shitty eagles song and then logan hanging out with a full-on asian chick. so is she...yoriko? no? okay. great. we'll I guess I'll just have to wait until the next time you suck.

seriously, I'm starting to think they just turned over the script to george w. bush to write the ending. think about it. the guy's bored now. I can just see that squirrelly little dink saying "what's more dangerous than one mutant?....howsabout one mutant, with all th' other mutants' pow'rs?"

at no point do we got see this guy just kill shit without mercy, which is part of the fun of wolverine. thus, the name. a wolverine is a creature without logic or care. otherwise you can just call the movie "mr. careful claws" or some shit like that. I do, however, appreciate the amount of exercise thematically imbued in the dramatic high points of the film; walking away is great cardio, and really good for the buns.

I'm sorry, but when I was a kid, wolverine's origin was more or less a mystery, and we liked it that way. we just knew he was a psycho that could heal that they put some metal shit into, and nobody fucked with him. there wasn't any of this booty "bone claws" theory, or how wolverine was connected to everybody's origins.

this film is shitty. like, ben affleck daredevil shitty. like eric bana hulk shitty. expect a remake in 15 years, when marvel has hopefully started to dry up with some of their money/ideas and finally turn the franchise over to somebody with a set of balls that'll make it as gritty as it should be.

funny or die.com has leaked the entire movie, which you can watch here:

Wolverine ENTIRE MOVIE Leaked Online - watch more funny videos

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wanted
by mike fardal

trite club.

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top gun
by kevin erhard

tony scott got ear-fucked by shoulder devils.

history of stuff, pt. 2

2009-04-09T00:40:00.005-04:00

1951: the kennedy brothers, in their struggle for moral purponduity, invent a term for dry-humping known as "cheezin".

"cheezin" was the first safe-sex initiative implemented for massachusetts schools in the fall of 1958, complete with instructional super 8 films depicting kids mashing their trousers together as jfk gave them the gubernatorial thumbs-up. the hit 45 b-side "reason for cheezin", by northeastern seaboard pop band the heavy moles, exploded onto the regional charts at #79, somewhat cementing the lexicon of the dry hump around that time. it is rumored the kennedy brothers invented "cheezin" merely as a way to tone down certain, ahh, secretarial indiscretions in the throbbing blue vein of extramarital happenstance.

sadly, the "cheezin" campaign dried-up when michigan representative gerald ford's "corduroy handjob" garnered an abrasive public reception in 1959.

utterly mustard-filled, shameless plug

2009-04-06T23:30:00.000-04:00

hey folks,

you know when you give a homeless guy a sandwich, then he glares at you, but you still feel good, knowing that he'll eat it? or at least, take the effort to go exchange it for crack? it's time to get that feeling. yes, this is an advertisement.

graduation is creeping up on me, and I am currently taking a Professional Development class, which is teaching me a bunch about submitting my short film scripts to international film competitions.

that said: anybody feel like tossing me some cash so I can submit some scripts to festivals (in hopes of winning accolades/cash prizes)?

I know you guys are probably hurting right now, and I owe you all of diddly squat, but for the first time in about five years, I don't feel bad hitting up my friends and family for cash. because this is an investment for the future, for my career.

in that sense, you are all big-shot movie producers! (which sadly, means you can tell me when to jump, and how high.)

anyway, to contribute to the "give lee money so he can shamelessly send his scripts to international festival competitions so he can build his resume (and hopefully recoup your $ for you)" fund, please go to paypal and send your bucks (no matter how meager!) to "keeler337@hotmail.com".

thank you for your continuing support,
lee andrew

stuff you don't (and rightfully shouldn't) think about, pt. 4

2009-03-27T09:01:00.007-04:00

who gives a shit 'who watches the watchmen'
I wantsta know
who takes all the best springs and cogs from the watchmen
and makes a better watch

this one's pretty nerdy. suck it. I got two hours of sleep and am running on peanut butter and honey.

been reading an article in this month's issue of creative screenwriting about all the bullshit watchmen film writers david hayter, alex tse, and zack snyderwent through to finally get the "right" draft of the script. I don't have major beef with what they turned out, and I dig what they did with the black freighter/under the hood ancillary dvd, but to validate this draft as the "right" script is kinda like saying tim burton acheived the ultimate vision of batman back in '89; both are downright good, but neither are the definitive transmutations of the property.

speaking of batman, this article finally locked a last puzzle piece in place for me in terms of mapping out the influences that the nolan bros. and david goyer drew from to write the dark knight. we already know (and they readily admit) that they copped jeph loeb's the long halloween, alan moore's the killing joke, and frank miller's batman: year one and return of the dark knight. but something always buzzed in the back of my brain about this interpretation of the joker...he's just too smart. sure, the joker in the comic routinely pulls off elaborate stunts, but the whole getting-arrested-on-purpose thing? and the bombs on the boats? watchmen. that shit is adrian veidt from watchmen. when you really break it down, veidt is a long-form terrorist that shows people their true fiber, a master planner that the audience is fascinated to learn the machinations of. the comic book joker is kind of cool, but he isn't a genius. and warner brothers owns the comic rights to watchmen. so in a roundabout sense, with their in-house cherry-picking, the dark knight screenwriters sorta outwatchmen'd watchmen.

this theory might hold as much vinegar (sic: douchiness) as that issue of valor that craighead used to keep in his bathroom, but it makes perfect sense to me. somebody needs a nap. to detract form any assertion of this blog entry as a product of feminine hygiene, here's a video kevin merryman showed me.

Damn You, Batman from Those Aren't Muskets! on Vimeo.

underloved badassery, pt. 2

2009-03-06T06:57:00.007-05:00

michael ironside.

he's that uncle that will trounce your shit if you look at him sideways. forget that his name sounds like a civil war general that gained immortality by subsisting on a diet of steel wool and gun powder, the timbre of his voice alone will karate stomp your banus. the jack nicholson of syndication, few actors have strolled through the hollywood minefield and come out with a career ranging from free willie to scanners. his official coronation into the underloved badass hall of fame drops on may 21st with the new terminator movie. jester's dead, ah-hah!

update: cap'n badass in terminator 4

stuff you don't (and rightfully shouldn't) think about, pt. 3

2009-02-09T12:55:00.002-05:00

worst river phoenix impersonation 2007+

plz take yr craft so srsly
it's a craft! like arts and crafts.
I seriously don't give a damn that he was speed racer.
this man has no dick.

world's best deadly waterslides, pt. 2

2008-12-21T02:01:00.002-05:00

you digital rubes, pt. 1

2008-12-08T22:34:00.006-05:00

this segment of fool's goaled is gonna be devoted to shit you can't overcompress into an ipod or smoosh into a youtube link - specifically, analog media that hasn't been transferred into the matrix yet.

today we look to chess records, who just royally fucked-up their big shot at a biopic (cadillac records) by portraying etta james with beyonce, a woman who is neither puggish nor talented enough to fill james' cankled shoes. I'm not gonna see it, unless I'm on some kind of overseas flight that is showing the next jennifer aniston hunk of shit. then maybe. oh yeah, digital rubes. today you digital rubes get to learn about mitty collier, whom I'm positive wasn't even mentioned in that sad bastard of a movie.

mitty cut shades of a genius, her first LP for Chess, in 1963 at the age of 23. the song "I had a talk with my man last night" was the breakout single of the 12 tracks, a video of which can be seen here (asterisk piano not listed in liner notes). collier's voice uncurls like smoke from a back room at a party where all the real fun is being had - hovering over strings that would be otherwise corny if not cured by her mentholated croon. songs like "I gotta get away from it all" and "together" resonate like poppier nina simone, poured from a true hurt, a gutbucket of honeyed growls that could clock diana ross right in the supremes.

from what I can tell, this album is a cover of ray charles...covers. and originals. it's confusing. they don't really say. but from what I googled, it looks like ray charles had most of these songs in his canon, so this is technically a cover album, with a few of her originals thrown in. found this dusty gem for four bucks at a corner thrift in savannah a month before it got shuttered. you can buy an overpriced vinyl 180 gm. reprint here, or you can grab her greatest hits if you absolutely gotta have yer mitty digital.

to be played by rihanna in "cadillac records 2: who gives a shit"

further nerd research finds hot (yet troubled) chicks are into:

2008-12-08T21:54:00.002-05:00

sushi.

what's that? you can't make rent? too fucking bad. sure, it's a good date once in a while, but think about all the crazy mother fuckers you know that adore this shit. might as well have a drug habit...it's more fun and you get to travel. sushi is the spencer gifts of fine dining - I'm entertained for a minute, then I want to know where the fuck all my dough went. if you're about to eat sushi for the third time this week, just ball up your money in your fist and punch yourself over and over in the tongue, fattie. now you might not get evicted or have to beg your parents to bail you out. again.

knows full fucking well that
both rice and fish are cheap
when served separately

funuggets! pt. 2

2008-12-08T21:12:00.004-05:00

I don't feel like typing out a bunch of different entries for this stuff (surprise), so today's funuggets are a bunch of random cornucopious shit:
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frank sinatra used to refer to his dick as his "bird".

according to the award-winning essay "frank sinatra has a cold" by gay talese, he tells a fellow actress throwing something to him on set to "watch out for my bird", and later winks to the writer that he should get his "bird" taken care of. I'm not a greaseball, nor do I go apeshit over sinatra - I like some of his stuff, but I just wonder how he sold this to ava gardner. I passed the ava gardner museum on I-95 on the way to chapel hill this weekend, and saw a bird lighting on the edge of the roof.
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metaphysical b(log)

1. eat huge meal
2. when it's time to shit it out, get on the scale
3. rock a deuce and think about anything you've said since that meal that either doesn't change anybody's life for the better or was just an outright lie
4. when it's all said and done, baby wipes or what have you, stand back on the scale
5. math out the difference, and that's how full of shit you've been
6. write on the internet like you know shit

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karaoke eating competition

do I really have to explain this one? stuff as many hotdogs in your mouth as you can before you get to the "here comes a bikini whale" part in rock lobster. could actually work in conjunction with the metaphysical blog, if you coordinate it right.

stuff you don't (and rightfully shouldn't) think about, pt. 2

2008-11-27T04:50:00.007-05:00

top 3 xmas movies that have nothing to do with xmas and still rock my shit

it coulda been new year's, fucking arbor day, whatever. peripheral goodwill to all notwithstanding, most of these movies (especially number one) will not end up on the top holiday film lists about to yawn through the media filler in the next month. these end-of-the-year lists are just holidays for writer jerks from cohesive, proto-narrative rambles, so hey, here's mine.

3.) die hard

yeah, yeah - a gimme, I know. but this is basically an excuse to type about what a beautiful bastard alan rickman is. the man has cavorted freely between a variety of roles with gleeful aplomb, from trekkie spoofery to the dark mullet-head of locksley. in die hard, his snide, nasally monologues remind us, as americans, that we all secretly hate the british. not really. kind of. red coat bastards. wait, what?

the dude from family matters also made this film the shit, so naturally, he was excluded from all sequels and has no career.

2.) gremlins

phoebe cates. one of the two coreys. the hero has a jew-fro (like me). phoebe cates. say her name in worship out loud, next to your computer. real quiet, nobody's looking...see? you're either happier and/or at half-mast, so good for you. check the youtube clip for a pre-pixar melange of cuddly-cum-irony: baby demons pacified by the rascals of yore, self-referentially (and metatheatrically, if you were old enough to catch it the first time around) hallmarking the devolution of cute in family entertainment. it's still hotly debated as to whether director joe dante meant the entire film as one giant sarcastic stab at 50's cinema. I remember this one random night studio 35 screened gremlins for free...one of my fondest memories there, right up with seeing wrath of khan with daymon dodson.

1.) brazil

cursed in pre-production, cursed in post-production, connected to the day river phoenix died, and still the unsung king of christmas films in cinematic history. pre-supposing the all-connectedness of globalist thought, fashionable terrorism, and death by plastic surgery (kanye's mom, r.i.p.) - brazil is a monumental tonic to the drone of squeaky-clean holiday fodder, a pipe bomb dropped smack in the middle of bedford falls. you might think that one movie about johnny depp doing drugs in vegas is real cool, but this is terry gilliam's greatest film, period. it hasn't wallpapered any dorms, and sure as hell won't be run in marathons on tbs any time soon.

...now that I've typed this out, it makes me wonder how each film would've turned had they taken place during different holidays. like, a fourth of july motif would fit the 'splosions in each film perfectly, no?

classics of thespian poetry, pt. 1

2008-11-07T12:31:00.005-05:00

our thespian poet for this installment is master scribe juliette lewis. grab your favorite snifter of brandy, curl up with your feet in front of a fire, and let your mind drink in her command of grammatical wonderment.....

oh hey joe i'm so sorry for you now
cause you'll never live me down
i'm the girl in the licks juliette juliette say my name bitch

you got that gentlemen's swagger
and
a mind full of daggers,
leave me alone
that 13-inch boot don't make you
a man

everything you are is everything you want
everything you want is everything you need
and
everything you need is everything you try and take from me
everything don't mean a thing

i'm sick and tired of your duplicity
and
everything you change in me, change in me

vokeebulary, pt. 2

2008-11-07T11:56:00.007-05:00

\rooster-booster (n.) - any friend who not only advocates the fair distribution of booty on your behalf, but will retreat at the appropriate hour as to secure said measure of booty in kind. hairpin timing is everything, and a qualified, generous rooster-booster is aware of this. heretofore boosting of rooster can pose as abstract recompense of debts both monetary and madden-oriented; the clearance of such responsibilities therein measured by the rooster in determination of his success. if ye be not a blocker of cock, ye be a booster of rooster.

underloved badassery, pt. 1

2008-10-24T13:11:00.006-04:00

tom skerritt.

dude was in mash, harold and maude, alien, top gun, up in smoke, dead zone and space camp. this guy is your dad in b-movie form. dedicated democrat from the motor city. if ever a norman rockwell portrait came to life and kicked people's asses, it would look like tom skerritt. the poor man's tom selleck-come-clint eastwood? perhaps. but the dude's scabs are made out of denim, his blood is fucking barbecue sauce. this guy is the kris kristofferson of film. (wait...kris kristofferson is the kris kristofferson of film. shit.)

funuggets!

2008-10-18T13:29:00.004-04:00

alright, that last one was pretty rhetorical, even for hall of famer/guest blogger george brett. so here's today's funugget. this one's pretty easy. funuggets are not for children. they have fun all the time. so funuggets are just for adults that have to blame themselves if they're stupid enough to perform the funugget.

gummy bear rancor pit

pretty much just what it sounds like. first you take some gummy bears. they're cheap. then you play with them on the edge of your kitchen sink. then you flick that lightswitch by the sink that doesn't turn on a light, and you throw those fuckers to their doom. me, I'm not fond of the pineapple bears; they irk me. like those bastards at haribo and black forest didn't have the mental capacity to conceive of grape gummies.

george brett sez, pt. 1

2008-10-18T12:16:00.009-04:00

hey, it's me george brett. I just wanna remind you guys to get off your whiny asses because halloween is mardi gras for the midwest. or as close as they get. so get ready for sluttery. get ready for binge drinking, I mean shit like apple pucker and fire-hot or red-hot or water-fire or whatever they call that cinammon shit these days. me and tony gwinn only drink that shit when the halloween sluts are about. if you don't have a pair of vomit-encrusted angel wings in your apartment by the morning of november 1st, you're a sad little bitch. so get a costume. fuck that. get a mask and just wear something nice. I used to have this monkey mask with a big hole cut in the mouth so I could drink beer through it. I was the beer monkey for like, three years. nobody remembers, nobody cares. sidewalk life between the bars is a big fellini movie remade by howard stern. try to enjoy it.

world's best deadly waterslides, pt. 1

2008-10-11T14:43:00.002-04:00

nerd research finds hot (yet troubled) chicks are into:

2008-09-26T23:16:00.012-04:00

the misfits.
like, a shitload. baffles the fucking mind. good songs, no doubt about it, fuckin-a great songs, but good luck getting a cute girl worth a shit that worked up over the dictators. it happens.

100% cotton, sure to not send mixed signals in mosh pit

history of stuff, pt. 1

2008-09-21T00:17:00.002-04:00

over 4,143 blowjobs take place around the world every single night. that's incredible! but did you know that blowjobs were once known as "spitties"?

the term was coined by the infamous kilatumsah, north dakota harlot nan "the pan" abbott way back in 1872! apparently nan was inspired by how much her patrons were using the stoons in her saloon/brothel, so much so that she started to keep a stoon up in her "personal" quarters next to her bed. only she didn't spit tobacco juice into it, if you catch my drift. nan's idea caught fire like a bad flare up of the herp, and soon whorehouses everywhere were offering "spitties" from bismarck to baton rouge.

"Say, honey, how much for a spitty?"

vokeebulary, pt. 1

2008-09-14T13:48:00.007-04:00

\tombstone (v.) - to adamantly stand behind your girlfriend/wifey at rock show as if somebody's gonna come and take her away. see also "never-ending hug from behind".

c'mon now, you're in public. take your fucking hands out of her front pockets and let the booty breathe. I know you guys are in love, that's great. I know cusack did it at the end of high fidelity. but just hug her and move it back an inch or hold hands or something.

nothing is worse than fighting for a spot in a crowd, and then getting stuck next to some baboon ogling his lady friend like a pile of bananas. the worst tombstoning is when they start grinding and getting in on some over-the-shoulder frenching. no forgiveness.

a sage contemporary pop solo artist once said "if you love someone, set them free". this also could have been public recourse to his previous stalker mantra of watching "every breath" somebody takes, but hey.

Stuff You Don't (and rightfully shouldn't) Think About, Pt. 1

2008-09-13T00:49:00.007-04:00

watched total recall before I went out to the bar last night. fucking michael ironside. fucking ronny cox. fucking dude-with-buggy-glasses guy. this is my generation's north by northwest. which is scary.

as I sifted through some yellow beer it occurred to me that the premise is basically the same as eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, but if you say that to half of portland, you'd probably get some granola thrown at you. seriously. both movies are about erasing/implanting shit in your brain, and living through it. now if we can just get elijah wood to say "you ever fuck a mutant?"

and it bugs me that the inherent industrial plight (fighting for fresh air in the future) is the same as spaceballs and an inconvenient truth.

now get your ass to mars.