pressure release

republitards

2006-11-08T19:53:00.000-06:00

SUCK IT.

enjoy your forced retirement Rummy. Hell awaits.

bye bye fuckers.

beat // pointless // tired

2006-10-13T23:14:00.000-05:00

I don't post much anymore. it's because I don't write anymore. it's because I'm too wiped from writing and running and working all day. it drains me and kills off my desire to play with words any longer than I do all day anyways.

The job that I got in July is excellent. It's easily the best job I've ever had and it suits my style and my interests. In about three months I've completed two large scale projects that I'm proud of. I'm doing pretty much exactly what I've wanted to do since around 1996.

But, I'm beat.

beck // the information

2006-09-23T18:40:00.000-05:00

1. elevator music
2. i think i'm in love
3. cell phone's dead
4. strange apparition
5. soldier jane
6. nausea
7. new round
8. dark star
9. we dance alone
10. no complaints
11. 1000 BPM
12. motorcade
13. the information
14. movie theme
15. horrible fanfare landslide exoskeleton

link

a very very weird june 23rd

2006-06-27T10:28:00.000-05:00

I'd been waiting for two weeks for a phone call from my new job's HR woman to tell me that I'd been signed off on the budget for my salary, and that I was officially hired on. I had to wait for that OK in order to issue my two week notice at my terrible current job of three years.

I work for a horrible anal prick of a micromanager named Steve. Steve is one of those people that may not intend to come off as an asshole, but does so naturally. You'll listen to him say something to you work related, or even offer up a personal opinion about a matter and you'll think to yourself "this guy is kind of an asshole." A year of day in, day out with this guy and you definitely think "this guy is a total asshole."

Steve was hired on a year ago to head a staff of three full-time writers, and one part-timer. Within a year, Nancy, a five year writer with over 20 years writing experience was the first to go (her parting advice to me was "don't let him make you think that you're not a good writer"), followed by Lauren, who had graduated from journalism school two years ago (and suddenly doesn't want to write anymore?) and now me. The part-timer, Leslie, got a book deal and is holding on to the job for the salary and insurance. Even she told me about two weeks ago that she had called a meeting with Steve to tell him that she wasn't jiving with his micromanagement style and that she thought that communication in the department was "next to zero."

Good work Steve!!

So, Steve asks me if I want to go to lunch. I automatically question "the fuck is this all about?" and say "yes." we go to the Billy Goat and Steve (in cool guy mode) spends six bucks on my lunch. I listen to him talk about himself for 45 minutes.

We go back to work and I get the call officially offering me the job. So, I asked Steve if he could speak with me in the conference room, and 20 minutes after he bought me lunch I quit on him... leaving him with just the part time writer (who's taking a lot of time off right now to go on her book tour).

Steve spent most of the time complaining that he didn't think that he'd still be there in a year, but with a new adopted son, a new house, a condo that hasn't sold yet and a home equity line, he didn't think that he could afford to go anywhere for awhile. That's bad. Worse than that: everybody at work knows that all of the writers have quit working under Steve. It's all up to Steve now.

Good work Steve!!

On my bike ride home I pedaled up to the intersection of Kedzie and Eastwood. Traffic was backed up due to the Brown line train passing at the Kedzie stop (it's ground level), so I biked slowly through the stopped traffic and saw nothing coming in the other direction. A second later I was nailed by a car speeding up to 20 mph and was thrown onto the hood, against the windshield and then down to the pavement.

I heard screams. I got up and looked over my body for cuts, blood or pain. other than a very minor scrape on my forearm below my right elbow, I was clean. I looked at the car and saw two 26 year old female Chicago Police officers getting out of their car to see if I was OK.

I WAS HIT BY A POLICE CAR!!

I said "I can't believe that I was hit by a police car." I looked at my bike and saw a contorted, fucked up front wheel. The cops said "are you OK? we've got to go and respond to a call." I said "you just hit me with your car and fucked up my bike, call some other cops."

Within in 3 minutes, a squad car with two 30-something male cops pulled up and shook their heads in disgust at the incident. something tells me that my two female cops are going to pulling traffic duty and other shit work on top of taking woman driver jokes and hassling for the next month or two.

I took a statement, which everyone was cool with, and then I took a disposable camera from my bag and took pictures of the bike and the spot that the squad that hit me was parked: alongside the curb... they weren't even in the lane of traffic. That's one of the problems with cops in this city--and I'd imagine everywhere--they're above the law, so they don't bother to follow standard rules of the road. That's why you see them driving on sidewalks, gunning down alleyways, and driving like steve wonder behind the wheel (ray charles riding shotgun).

I was released with the police report... which I'm following up on. I'm not hurt, so I'm not looking to sue anybody. I took my bike to the store I bought it at to fix it back up. they asked me if the cops even bothered to stop... apparently they sometimes don't (isn't that called "hit and run"?). All said and done... new wheel, and the fork is slightly bent... so new fork, plus labor: $240. which I'll now push to get the Chicago Police to pay for. I think that $240 is probably a small amount to pay considering they get sued for shit way sketchier than this incident.

moral of the story: cops, cabbies, grandpa and the blind can't drive.

oh yeah, and I can't be killed. I'm unbreakable.

pearl jam // chicago // 5-17-06

2006-06-20T16:11:00.000-05:00

I saw pearl jam for the 7th time on May 17th. I got fan club tickets (I'm 32 years old and a member of a rock band fan club) and took Intense Rick. We had great seats... 4th row, section 122... basically eye level with the band.

The dude next to me was a super fan. He asked me what my fan club number was. I said "I have no idea." There was an awkward pause while we both tried to come up with something else to say. Later he somehow bought 8 beers with $15 and gave me one. Even later his friend had to drag his drunk ass the the men's room because he was so fucked up.

Most people I know rip on pearl jam. They always tell me that they suck and that Eddie Vedder annoys them. I can kind of see it, but I think that pearl jam's fans are way more annoying, and I've consistantly dug their music. I could give a fuck if it doesn't sell. Everytime I've seen them live or listened to a live show or watched a live DVD, I'm reminded why I like them: because they are a solid rock band that writes solid rock songs.

AND I'm pleased that the new album is good. It justifies why I still pay attention... and it justifies why the band can still sell out the United Center and isn't stuck playing a free show at the lame ass Cubby Bear bar, like Soul Asylum has to

Coming Soon...
Friday June 30th
93XRT / Careerbuilder pres.
Free Concert with
Soul Asylum

LAME!

Instead, you get an outstanding rock show like this one:
pearl jam // chicago // 5-17-06

Malaysian "Pearl Jam" review

2006-06-15T11:00:00.000-05:00

Broken engrish is funny.

Read this review by IZZY SHAH:

PEARL JAM have stopped bothering to promote their records for a long time now, so why then is the new self-titled eighth album by Seattle’s grunge uncles their highest charter in years?

What’s for sure is that it’s a significant lowering of fences on the band’s part, with singles, videos, magazine cover interviews and photo ops being granted in what seems like an eternity (it’s been 12 years since all of the above happened ... an ice age in music industry time).

Some major music rags are even saying it’s their best in 10 years. I’m not sure about that, but this new Pearl Jam does sound spunkier, younger and more purposeful. The graceful transition to its current affirmative-action-rock phase sees the band rediscover the fire that once set it apart.

Short punk-like bursts and two-minute rock blasts are Vedder’s modus operandi this time. He emphatically spews out raging keynote addresses on class hierarchy, race and the minority welfare struggle (Unemployable), corruption and surveillance paranoia (Inside Job) and US soldier-drafting policy (Army Reserve). The blond-streaked singer even manages a moment of tribute to his favourite pastime, whistling the wonders of surfing as meditation (Big Wave).

And these three-minute songs are short for a reason ... cutting in sharply, making their point and moving on, rather than chewing forever on hollow hooks and compromised radio-friendliness.

Elsewhere, songwriting contributions by the band’s two guitarists are both weird and wistful ... from McCready’s piquant Marker in the Sand to Gossard’s contemplative campfire tune Wasted Reprise.

Vedder, still an alpha after two decades of betas, imitators and washouts, sounds as true as ever, barking leftist sentiments like a hungry wolverine throughout Pearl Jam. With Vedder, a hardened liberal, it’s not so much checking and balancing as it is an all-out aural war on the Bush administration, as the snarling guitars of Life Wasted attest.

Dense, always grasping at truth, and bordering on anarchy, Pearl Jam’s current repertoire should have been the score for the recent V for Vendetta.

But what this album (like all others before it) showcases most is that they are a band of songwriters, their own little democracy.

Even at its most adventurous (as on mid-1990s releases Vitalogy and No Code) Pearl Jam’s AOR has always been commoner fare in the feudal hierarchy of listener appreciation, but if there is anything to be admired about this angriest of outings, it’s the sheer lionhearted, warrior-like will that they’ve always had in abundance.

"Seattle’s grunge uncles"... "Short punk-like bursts and two-minute rock blasts are Vedder’s modus operandi this time"... "Vedder, still an alpha after two decades of betas, imitators and washouts, sounds as true as ever, barking leftist sentiments like a hungry wolverine throughout Pearl Jam." (my favorite).

I wish I could write this good... and engrish is my native tongue.

stupid shit said in an office

2006-06-12T10:52:00.000-05:00

"Wanna “circle the wagons right now??"

"…well… the earth’s crust is still cooling on that… you know?"

"That’s not really my ‘bailiwick’"

"put that in your pipe and smoke it when you need it."

"noodle it up"

"hump it up"

"Kersplooshie"

"One man gathers what another man spills"

"I'll smoke it up a little bit on our side"

"We’ll throw some butter his way…"

"That’s got some rhythm to it!" (In reference to a good idea.)

"So can you ‘bird-dog’ it??" (A.k.a. Can you check that out?)

"This presentation needs to be buttoned up…."

"This is no dog and pony show”"

"The last kick of the cat will be when we get the 'T.I.F's......"

"The satellites are still spinning on that one…."

"That’s back when sheep were sheep."

"What you need now is someone good looking, like me, to go in there and really sell 'em."

"We’re trying not to grow moss over here…"

"Well, we can’t be pigs, but if we just nibble on the edge a little…"

"I just thought I’d make a call and get ‘hand grenades and horseshoes’…"

"I'll take voicemail for $200" [in response to a secretary]

"I had to get clearance from the tower" [permission from wife]

[Email from me to Kari] I was talking to this one girl on the phone yesterday that was a building rep that was going to show us some space and she sounded cute on the phone.

So I just asked Eric if she has in fact cute. He said, "Ahhhh naaaa, well…. she had hoo-hoo's ‘out to here’, but she had no "willow" to her." I straight faced said, "I have no idea what you mean... "willow"?!?" Eric reply's "Yeah, me neither. But you know (then he started waving his arms around like a willow tree in a strong breeze) and says, "you know.... I like the long skinny types."

"Let’s give Morgan a call and see if he can look through the tea leaves."

"Ohhhhh… I see. So that’s a top secret squirrel?"

"Just put in a call over there and see if you can nibble your way up the food chain."

"Alright, let’s do some cowboy math here…"

"See if you can run the gauntlet here for us…"

"That’s just something to keep up there in the gray matter up there…"

cheap ass, self-serving celebrities

2006-06-09T13:42:00.000-05:00

I hate celebrities. They're handed the world on a platter and don't seem to appreciate any of it. Not only are they comp'd everything, they've got lots and lots more money than you or your parents or grandparents or family legacy combined. And for what? Nobody can convince me that being an actor is either hard work, or even a real job.

I've found an excellent website that films these cheap ass, self-serving celebrities acting like fuckwads with the homeless in public.

Check it out HERE.

George Lopez isn't really a celebrity.

pearl jam

2006-05-01T22:31:00.000-05:00

streaming here (for now).

severed hand

2006-04-19T10:17:00.000-05:00

severed hand mp3

fight club

2006-04-11T12:31:00.000-05:00

a whole lotta good fight videos here.

WHAT I DON'T SELL, I BURN

2006-04-03T15:00:00.000-05:00

I'm moving out of my place and in with JS. She has a small one bedroom condo.

My landlord has increased my rent to $860 and has some new bullshit deal where they're charging for heat also... $42 a month extra for my unit. That's $900 dude. They're also renovating the place, so my sister isn't going to take it. It would be her living amongst plaster and dust for six weeks (plus $900 a month base), so she said "no".

So, I'll be taking my $800 security deposit back and putting shit in storage for $50 a month. Not so bad.

I can't wait for it to warm up to a more consistant level because when it does I'm having a yard sale and selling off half of my shit. I may even have a lemonade stand.

I'm going to strategically place signs near the L stops at montrose and at damen and then up in Lincoln Square that reads "WHAT I DON'T SELL, I BURN"

Up for sale/to burn:
1. 20" TV from the 1980's. Includes a Darth Maul sticker.

2. A VHS VCR from about 1986.

3. A sleeper couch the weighs in at around 115 lbs.

4. A computer desk that I bought at a yard sale 2 years ago.

5. A grocery bag full of PLAYBOYS (I might be too embarrassed to actually try to sell those... I may just write "playboys" on a bag and leave them outside... last time I did that the bag was gone in under an hour).

6. Queen-sized mattress and box spring (never mind the dried blood stains)... who the fuck buys a used mattress anyways? This one will be a good start for the alleyway bonfire. I hope nobody buys it. Perhaps I'll drown a tree rat or two in kerosene to spark the flames.

7. A microwave oven with a sticker that says "New Order: Republic. Summer of '93. 93XRT." This oven has followed me around for 13 years and over 10 residences. I hope that the sticker doesn't give away its age... that sort of thing tends to automatically lower sales prices.

8. About 6 winter coats.

9. Lots and lots of clothes from the '90's (grunge still rocks!!)

I'll have a wednesday night blow out at some point in may that you'll have to attend. I have to party there one last time before I pay some immigrants $100 to clean the place.

evolution

2006-03-31T13:24:00.000-06:00

do the evolution

spike lee's new joint

2006-03-27T14:41:00.000-06:00

My sister sent me an e-mail this morning asking if I wanted to see the new Spike Lee film "The Inside Man." This is what I have to say about Spike Lee:

Spike Lee's "joints" are always boring. This new movie is supposed to be boring also... it's like getting solid 2.5 stars across the board. It's only notable because spike isn't hammering "RACISM!!" and "INJUSTICE!!" over your head for 3.5 hours (spike lee's movies are always a minimum of one hour too long).

look here: http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000490/#director

I saw SHE HATE ME. I couldn't believe how stupid it was. There was "RACISM!!" and "INJUSTICE!!" in it.

I saw HE GOT GAME. I couldn't believe that it had to be 4 hours long. There was "RACISM!!" and "INJUSTICE!!" in it.

Spike Lee actually gets more attention when he makes a movie that's main focus is not "RACISM!!" and "INJUSTICE!!" ... rather regulating "RACISM!!" and "INJUSTICE!!" to his third or fouth subplot.

My favorite Spike Lee joke (by Howard Stern): "MALCOLM X should have been called MALCOLM Z-Z-Z-Z."

I can't be bothered with Spike Lee and his bullshit. He's a wealthy black man who sits courtside at Knicks games at the Garden, bitches every year about how he doesn't get Academy Award nominations because he's black, and cashes in on "exposing" racism in America.

If he was all that interested in helping black people, he'd do it like Bill Cosby does it: sitting in his mansion criticizing poor blacks in America who have to go to under-subsidized shit public schools -- and have no money -- for not "respecting themselves" by not going to college.

so, "no. I don't want to see the new Spike Lee joint."

gone

2006-03-08T14:15:00.000-06:00

Gone (Written by Ed Vedder)

No more upset mornings
No more trying evenings
It's the American Dream I am disbelieving.
When the gas in my tank feels like money in the bank
I’m gonna blow it all this time, take me one last ride.
The lights of the city, they only look good when I’m speeding
I wanna leave em all behind me because this time I’m gone
Gone, going for it all this time, gone.
In the far off distance
As my taillights fade
No one to witness but they will someday
Feel like a question is forming
And the answers
I will be what I could be
Once I get out of this town.
The lights of this city
They’ve lost all of their feeling
I wanna leave em all behind me because this time I’m gone
Gone, going for it all, this time I’m gone
Nothing is everything
I’ll have it all
If nothing is everything then I will have it all.
I’m gone.

pearl jam - gone.mp3

monkey wrench radio transcript

fly amongst the stars, fallen reeves

2006-03-07T11:36:00.000-06:00

nice photo... the one with reeve as lex luthor sitting in his world dominator chair, and his wife above him.... they keep that room at a cool 55 degrees.

32

2006-03-06T12:28:00.000-06:00

I woke up this year in my hot girlfriend JS’ bed to her dog wearing a Happy Birthday hat and a toffee and walnut coated rum cake coming out of the oven. I ate 3 slices with a cup of coffee. JS then gave me a tent, which was great because I had been talking about buying one this spring, and she had been listening.

I rode pista 9 miles in the 40 degree fog to the loop to work. I cut through two projects and was out the door by 12:30—the ideal work day: in long enough to be productive, out soon enough to keep from getting pissed off about something or someone.

I ate sushi with my sister and my friend Dan and then I went to the gym to get in a 30 minute work out. I then biked to Wicker Park to meet up with JS for a while. We looked online… she bought me the expensive tent. I was pleased.

I biked to Big Hair and got my haircut. The girl cutting hair told me that she was trying out for the Windy City Rollers and needed a name. She said some other girls had names like “Courtney Shove” and “Shirley Temple of Doom.” The only name I could come up with was “Donnareah.”

I biked home and started to clean the place up. I then biked to JS’ to take the dog out. He was happy to see me and then bummed when I was leaving him to go to the grocery store. I swung back and picked him up after buying groceries and went to my place to clean up some more and get ready for JS to take me to dinner.

I called my sister to come over early in case anyone got there before 9 p.m. JS and I ate an excellent Italian dinner at the joint across the street from my crib, and walked home at 9 p.m. when the kids started to show. My last guest left at 1:30 a.m.

It was a good 32.

worldwide suicide

2006-02-27T12:14:00.000-06:00

only 15 seconds?!?

pearl jam - worldwide suicide.mp3 (15 second clip)

full track

iron mike

2006-02-22T15:29:00.000-06:00

You can't touch me, you're not man enough! I'll eat your asshole alive you bitch! Not anybody in here can fuck with me! This is the ultimate, man! Fuck you, you ho! Say that to my face and I'll fuck your ass in front of everybody! You bitch, come on! You bitch! You're a scared coward, you ain't man enough to fuck with me! You can't last two minutes in my world, bitch! Look at you, you're scared now, you ho... scared like a little white pussy! Scared of the real man! I'll fuck you 'till you love me, faggot!

The government should step in and put that rabid dog to sleep.

meatpacking millionaires

2006-02-22T15:24:00.000-06:00

I like it when regular people become super millionaires. I've got my own ideas about how I'll handle sudden sick wealth.

Eight workers at a meatpacking plant in Lincoln NE just won the largest lottery in U.S. history--$365 million.

The seven men and one woman bought the winning Powerball ticket at a convenience store near the ConAgra ham processing plant where they worked. At least three of the winners are immigrants — two from Vietnam and one from the Congo.

“This is great country!” said Quang Dao, 56, who came to the United States in 1988. He still has family in Vietnam and said he plans to help them financially with his winnings.

The Nebraska workers had the option of taking the money in one lump sum or 30 annual installments. They chose the lump sum and will get $15.5 million each after taxes.

Three of the group quit their jobs when they hit the jackpot.

“I’ve been retired for about four days now,” said Eric Zornes, 40.

fucking cool.

awwwstrich

2006-02-14T15:11:00.000-06:00

ugly ass bird

one-legged yoko!!

2006-01-25T12:06:00.000-06:00

Heather made Paul McCartney stop smoking weed

Heather Mills refused to marry Sir Paul McCartney unless he stopped smoking cannabis. The 37-year-old blonde said the former Beatle used the drug "as regularly as others drink cups of tea" but she gave him an ultimatum to ditch the drug or stay single.

She told Britain's Daily Mail newspaper: "Him and (his first wife) Linda smoked it every day for the whole of their lives together.

"But I would not get married to him if he was taking drugs. I hate it." Heather insists she introduced the ban for the sake of their daughter, two-year-old Beatrice. She added: "I could not have him lying to our child about not taking drugs and then going off for a sneaky puff.

"50 per cent of people can smoke joints their entire life and be fine. But the other 50 per cent, if there's a history of depression in their family or in their genes, then they cannot smoke marijuana."

The stunning blonde, who lost one of her legs in a motorcycle crash, also revealed she's always been clean and sober throughout her life.

teen today article

You'd have to be high to fuck a bitch with one leg.

restoring the rule of law

2006-01-23T16:12:00.000-06:00

read

realization

2006-01-23T11:58:00.000-06:00

"Today a young man on acid realized that all matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration, that we are all one consciousness experiencing itself subjectively, there is no such thing as death, life is only a dream, and we are the imagination of ourselves. Here's Tom with the weather."

-Bill Hicks

weak rundown about being rundown all weekend

2006-01-16T15:04:00.000-06:00

Last week I worked really hard at work all week. So fucking hard, that today--Martin Luther King Day--I hardly have anything to do (which explains the creation of the post you're reading).

On Friday night I dined at a Turkish restaurant on the north side called A La Turka. A La Turka is the shit. I went with my hot girlfriend. We smoked some bud in the car and then searched the front seat for change for the meter for 6 minutes.

Inside we were seated at a table near the back. Our waitress was super stupid. I was admiring the ugly poster of two fisherman in the sunset, and the cheap frame in particular. She came over and dropped some BS story about how the poster was a picture from her homeland, the boundary waters between the middle east and europe and how badly she missed it, etc. etc. etc.

Yeah right, try the boundary waters between minnesota and canada... I could almost make out the Old Milwaukee logo cut out of the corner in the frame.

I drank Turkish beer (it tasted like Michelob) and sipped Turkish red wine (it tasted like sand) and sample some of my hot girlfriend's chicken kabob. It was excellent. I had made the mistake of eating two deep dish slices of pizza after work, and wasn't hungry.

I had to piss, so I waited in line in the back. I got a chance to look at all of the autographed pictures. The collection was bizarre: nearly every senior official of the Turkish government with the owner ("Josh"), and then pictures of Josh with the killer Don King and the head bouncer of the Jerry Springer Show, Steve.

About 9 o'clock A La Turka raffled off some $15 gift certificates and then the belly dancers came out. One was fat and Turkish, one was dumpy and white trash, and one was a stripper with huge fake tits, no body fat and a spastic tweaked cocaine shake. They danced to Turkish techno for about a half hour.

After dinner we walked over to the Lincoln Tap Room and drank two beers before calling it a night at 11:30 because we are pussy adults who are tired from working at our adult jobs where we have to take shit from baby boomers all week long. Baby boomers should chill the fuck out.

--

Saturday night I had my friends over to the apartment for some beers before the Peanut Butter Wolf show at the Abbey. I told 3 of them to bring over a CD boom box without telling them why. Pat's 1991 era CD boom box had "weight room" written all over it, with stickers dating back to 1991. After I got everyone good and hi, we turned on The Flaming Lips: Zaireeka... the release that has 4 CDs that you play at the same time... it's a musical journey.

Later we drove over to the Abbey to catch the show. Unfortunately hip hop has never really taken off in Chicago. I think that Chicago is too conservative and too midwest. Peanut Butter Wolf's set sounded fucking excellent, but in the meantime, fat girls got on stage, someone kept spilling beer on the soundboard guy, and improbably a plate glass window was broken. beats me.

I ended the night very drunk on beer and whisky.

--

I finally got up about 1:30 p.m. on Sunday and drank a glass of iced tea. Iced tea always cures my hangover. My hot girlfriend juiced me some carrots and apples... damn that sweet shit is good.

Later we went over to my friend Todd's place to watch Carolina take the Bears out of the season. I'm from Wisconsin, so I couldn't care less if the Bear ever win another game again, in fact there's something sweet about watching them wreck... In all honesty I just don't ever want to hear about the '85 Bears again. Stop talking about them, it's pathetic. It was (now) 20+ years ago, and Jim McMahon was eventually a 3rd sting QB on the Packers.

After that we caught the 3rd period of the Blackhawks game with the free 13th row off the ice tickets that Todd got from work.

Later, I crashed.