Sunday, October 31, 2004

Super Sunday 10.31.04

Happy Halloween.

As you may know, it is said that the Washington Redskins' final home game before a presidential election determines whether the incumbent or the challenger in the election will win. If the 'Skins lose, the challenger gets in.

Score: Green Bay Packers 28, Washington Redskins 14. Holla!

Friday, October 29, 2004

home for the haunting. 10.29.04

i think i may stay home on halloween. eben has me convinced. just too much trouble; like him, i have been busy all week; and i am having a hard time getting excited about the parties this year. i'd love to see g-ball and ray-ray is supposed to come on up to party, too. and i still can't get excited.

my costume lays in a fanciful arrangement in my imagination. plus the prospect of walking home saturday night/ sunday morning with a costume in my neighborhood? there might be an early tricker out, it is a neighborhood filled with kids and teenagers, after all.

but if i go out, i'd like to thank gully for the halloween costume link. seriously, those costumes are funny as hell. i may dress up as the littlest prisoner at abu ghraib.

p.s.the end of this week's smallville, with the prison riot that consisted of hardcore prisoners chucking toilet paper and old men being beaten by riot cops, all to jimmy eat world's pain? i think they should have dropped the pretense and just had them all fondle each other in the bathhouse. same effect.
it's true of all of us. 10.29.04

i was very upset with myself, my laziness, my lack of energy, my failure to get much done (besides commune with kiri the red-a-homie and her baseball-loving roommate katie) when i came home. i was listening to mixes i had made and even getting upset over those. this song could have gone there. that was the wrong minus the bear song to use for so and so person.

i could have kicked me. but i flip on the television and note that there's the daily show (bad for the spirits in this political season-- too much pandering and shadiness on both sides); and there is an HBO special documenting a photobook of porn stars, clothed and as if by magic, unclothed in similar positions. it's a cross-section of young and old, mainstream stars and male-male stars, superstars, implants and natural. and it was interesting, interspersed with commentary from a guy from the village voice, one from page six of the ny post, and john waters.

all of this was to talk about how porn has become normalized but is still on the edge of things-- these people are shut out of mainstream movies but the women use porn to travel as featured performers. best line, from john waters: porn beautiful is below new york beautiful and then below LA beautiful.

how i rationalize porn and christianity? not quite sure yet, and that's a complete other blog. but there's a thought process-- if i am not coveting, if i don't watch so much that it affects the rest of my life (like marge does) and what i watch doesn't change my actions or moral fiber, then what's wrong with it?

but even better-- army of darkness on the sci-fi channel. watching a man fight himself on a cheap blue screen and other cheap effects... always good for the mood.

Thursday, October 28, 2004

say, what happened in the athletic contest last night? 10.28.04

you know, last night red sox victory was about as exciting as watching the braves in '99 or the padres in '98 go meekly into the cool october night. which is good; i don't want any members of the nation to spend time in the hospital before they tear out boston brick by brick, cobblestone by cobblestone.

speaking of which, i missed the f**king eclipse! half asleep and procrastinating with law and order.

anyway, how were the celebrations? remember, kids, the face boston puts on is also reflects on a certain state senator, so play nice! or go wreck texas. eugene, i have never seen so many exclamation points. ever.

and on the flagrant side, check this post from today's soxaholix, with the line:

"It's like that moment when a woman bends down and unbuttons and unzips a man's pants; there is such a feeling of providence somehow."

that about sums it up.

Wednesday, October 27, 2004

four more years! 10.27.04

but what will john kerry be able to do anyway? with a partisan, frothing, activist republican congress, and an activist supreme court against him, kerry will have an uphill battle in any policy he'd like to implement. the health care ideas? that won't happen. rolling back tax breaks? curtailing corporate welfare and abuses? ensuring some form of social security?

will any of it fly? perhaps we need four more years of misery and a moron presidency to remind us that bush and his conservative allies are out to hoard cash and have no understanding that people die when you go to war, and that war changes very little. just the faces, just the names. anyway, cheney won't run in 2008, bush won't be able to, so it can only get better.

then i think about president ashcroft. running against the vilified senator hilary clinton.

i'll vote for kerry.

an aside: i like the "activist judges" phrase the republicans levy against democratic candidates, stating that they would install judges with progressive ideas. you know, like interpreting the law to answer questions we haven't yet come to.
it's going to happen 10.27.04

yes, red sox fans, i said it.

it may not happen tonight. but it might. no matter how much ny papers try to spread their spite (see today's daily news). i mean-- there's even a lunar eclipse tonight! it's gotta happen.

Tuesday, October 26, 2004

baseball tonight 10.26.04

late evening tired my back hurts.


i was swimming, thinking of how major league baseball is looking for names for the new washington dc ballclub (who were the old expos. they don't want to carry the name since the team was named for expo '76). according to ball wonk, they are considering appropriating the name of the classic negro league team, the grays, perhaps. here are my suggestions:

++the washington cattle call-- imagine a logo with a woman draped across a steer. not such a good idea? how about:
++the washington coon skinners -- a logo with a man with a racoon slung over a shoulder and a baseball bat in the other hand (what, you thought i'd go somewhere else with that one?); or:
++the washington armor chinks -- perhaps a logo with balls spraying at a medeival helmet (maybe the mascot could have his helmet half off-- and look! it's saddam hussein!); or:
++the washington gay congressional shower head -- 'nuff said.

p.s. if you're bored, slap bush! courtesy of val from stl.
remedy 10.26.04

sorry. yesterday's was too long.

i just had a little bit of buckley's cough syrup. maybe you have heard the spartan commercials; my mother loves this stuff. or maybe it's my canadian uncle (apparently it's made in mississagua, where my uncle lives). my word it tastes like musty feet with a minty aftertaste.

but they're right, it works pretty well.

Monday, October 25, 2004

Cracking the Seal and Other [--unfocused--] Stories 10.25.04

1. Misanthrope Anna guided me in what is part of my resolution for the year (not the calendar year, it's started at an arbitrary point)-- to actually eat Japanese food. Thing is, I had tried Japanese food three times in my life-- once in high school with Paula (the HS kids will remember her-- silent, Finnish, kind of crazed, had a thing for black men with jail time under their belts) and her family. Where I promptly got sick. I attributed it to being a little tired and the possibility of shellfish in my meal;

Once in college with Arroz the Rice-a-Homie's family, and I attributed not liking the food to the fact that we were in St. Louis, where everyone crows about the food... a little too much for the overall quality.

And I forget the third time.

But Anna-Lu will remember that I avoided Japanese food at all costs; really, I would have been willing to try it if my possible "I don't like it" response would not have been met with "you don't know what you're talking about," as it had in the past with other people. After all, I am me, I know what I like.

I broke the seal a little with Starla/ New Top/ and Pixel, I think, walking in on the end of their dinner; and once with the Rice-a-Homie and his l'il chippie, Dizzy Riz, when J-Rich and Val were trying to tear down the town a few months ago.

On Friday Misanthrope Anna dragged me kicking and screaming-- okay. It was entirely willingly. We went to that place whose name I forget, north side of St. Marks, super packed all the time. All I have to say-- it was hella hella good.

No, really. That's the end of the story.

2. Saturday I woke at the crack of dawn. That might be the first time I'd seen the dawn all year, except when coming home on the 4.18 Long Beach train after a night of excessive drinking and unsuccessful skirt chasing. It was dark. I was tired. I sat in bed and listened to the radio until I realize that time passes when you sit in bed.

I had promised G-Ball that I'd come to midtown and help with some school painting-- her company was participating in a NY Cares project and she was running the site. I like painting and afterwards, I could walk around the city and tell people I did something more productive than watching college football. It was fun. You should do it next year. You too can Jackson Pollock your pants and leave flecks of paint on your face, scrub your kicks with turpentine, and remember why you liked that little G-Ball so much.

But then it's 1 pm and I have nothing to do; Cappy and A-alike are not home; I can't sit in a bar alone. It's too late to catch the first movie of the day and the second gets out late afternoon. I'm not going to the many strip clubs and porn stores in the area, I just ate lunch, it's too cold to walk a promenade, and my bag weighs 20 pounds.

3. So I call Mr. Raycroft.

Who is doing his own good deed, delivering a found Blackberry to its owner at the Rockefeller Center Dean & DeLuca. She turns out to be a small sweet woman who loves his Bush/ Cheney pin. Just joking. It was a Kerry/ Edwards pin, and I bought one in the basement of Rockefeller Center, after we walked through the Democracy / voting exhibit in the area-- it's pretty cool.

On that pin-- obviously made by Republicans, the front fell from its pin twice. So if you see said front-- in blue, a stronger America-- in the hookah place on Houston, it's yours.

Raycroft and I then tried to find a Nanowrimo meeting in the Forest Hills Barnes and Noble-- no success-- went back to his place to play FIFA 2004; and then went into town to watch baseball with his work friends.

Here, I should have gone to have dinner with Cappy and A-alike or gone bowling with Nascar Anna/ Eben/ Silver/ and all those hockey kids. But finding a Red Sox bar was a little too exciting of a prospect. The Red Sox bar (the Hairy Monk) spilled over to Fitzgerald's across the street.

Where Raycroft, George, Rachel, and Alana (sp?) had a good old time. Even though Alana was not into baseball. And George is a fellow Met fan! As bad as I am! Rachel is pretty into the Red Sox for a Jersey kid. It was good times, and Brooklyn, please welcome Alana into your ranks. Meeting her was creepy, though, since one of my main characters in my Nanowrimo story is to be named Alana. But my character is from Minnesota, so there.

4. Down on Houston, where the overdressed hipsters blow, I found myself slipping behind a belly dancer to get to and from a bathroom. Cappy, A-alike and their friends Tu, Sharif, and some other guy, were enjoying the show and drinking some hot and bizarre tasting drinks with their hookah smoke. Remember the pin? This is where I last saw it.

And then we went to Max Fish which was... frightening. crowded, same as it ever was. I half expected to see Silver in the back playing pool and Jo-Go talking to Julie trying to get the nuts to say "how 'bout it, girl? I'll take you to California, if you know what I mean." I did of course see two WU'ers, a redheaded kid named Marni and a bony kid named Deb who I remember being really funny.

No, this set of tales has no end. I have work to do. Go work on your novel. How was bowling?

I will end with this-- I am eating a banana that leaves me intimidated.

Thursday, October 21, 2004

if wishes were dreams... 10.21.04

i hope steinbrenner doesn't go on a firing spree.

i wish there was a bar/ club that the sox knew they were welcome at where all the yankee haters and sox fans could buy them a beer, maybe shake papi and cro-mag's hands. and let derek lowe know that met fans are nicer, and our park is huuuuge, no worries about homers. and our infield is getting better.

on the phone with neverecho last night i got a scary coughing fit. this has got to stop, but the doc i saw said i was fine... three days ago. you know what? i need a hug. preferable from an impressionable woman for whom "hug" involves "nudity." marge, put the wig away.

Wednesday, October 20, 2004

no. way. 10.20.04

wow. that's all i have to say about the red sox. and those classless yankee fans showing their anger-- oh no, we're not winning? let's throw our cell phones and baseballs on the field! shouldn't have been out that late last night and my eyes are bleary but hey, i think it was worth it.

tonight, it's on.

Tuesday, October 19, 2004

on the great papi 10.19.04

like hethalouise, i still believe. i still believe. i still believe.

and i will more often read soxaholics. almost as good as bat-girl, who still loves her papi and anyone who lays the 2 x 4 to the yank-these.

if you haven't heard, the red sox have unbelievably walked a razorblade thin line, looked over the precipice, and remembered they do-not-give-a-f**k. down 3 games to 0 to the hated yank-these, they re-measured their sacks and played some actual baseball, despite the worst efforts of their starting pitching to do otherwise-- except for derek lowe, surprisingly.

the loud bomb in this resurgence (which this gentle writer hopes continues with mr. schilling pitching in the rain and muck, bite plate in his mouth when his new reebok shoe --ode to the shoe here-- doesn't stop the ankle pains) has been david ortiz, the genial and fun locker room also known as papi.

since an inquisitive mind can find anything online, i found a forum of twins fans talking about papi. he was the DH in the metrodome until they let him go; last year with the red sox, he played well and this year he isthe hard hitting 41 home run, 139 rbi plausible MVP candidate that co-powers the sox (where have you been manny ramirez?) what's funny about the twins is that they let him go in part for financial considerations and in part to let mienkiewicz and matt lecroy play.

i think i saw different games than they did; papi might have struck out a few more times than i would like. he got injured a few times. but damn, when he hit the ball? that thing starts bouncing. you've seen the man, he is the reincarnation of the man who ate mo vaughn. he cannot run, as evidenced by his stolen base (where he was safe) last night. but he hits doubles. that means he is killing the ball. smooth stroke, great power...

i could have told them he'd be the man.
cold and british tuesday 10.19.04

it's wet and damned chilly out hear. weather that reflects bad moods. so i am adding a couple of hot things for you to do:

1. check out tiny mix tapes, brought to you by my dear friend neverecho, who introduces me to everything that is cool. it's an automatic mx tape generator, online. make your own mix tapes! see others!!

2. you're writing a novel in a month. yes, you. uh huh. check out nanowrimo, the world's best non-contest. i did it two years ago and missed the 50,000 word target last year... but it's not as hard as you think it will be. and it doesn't have to be good; the idea is that you spit out lots of words and at least you have something to edit, versus the mealy-mouthed whining that goes on inside your head.

3. while we're at it, g-ball is running the fed reserve's nycares day. interested in painting a school early on saturday morning? i am, and gurney should be in on it too. public service makes you a good person, and less of a selfish alcoholic than you were.

Monday, October 18, 2004

backstage. underage. 10.18.04

it's a silent week, been working on school project work. my group doesn't annoy me as much. i've been coughing and a little tired.

but the most notable thing (besides samantha's party last week being really fun as far as dinner parties go) is that now that i am shaving, keeping the facial hair down, people routinely tell me i look 18. good lord. maybe i should grow the facial hair back, but i like being clean...

Saturday, October 09, 2004

germfree adolescents 10.9.04


last night we found ms. new top in the wilds of brooklyn; and went to moe's bar in fort greene. along the way, or really, downstairs from thoren's apartment, we found mike, hetha louise's soon-to-be boyfriend-for-life. we dragged him to moe's too. pixel was there, jamie was there, sixo was there, silver was there.

short tale:

when we got to thoren's place, we sat and watched the end of the debate. on the floor next to the television were cd's, and curious to find out more about this fella, i took a look--

and saw a cover that is familiar because i have tried to place it for years. the image of the dark skinned singer and her braces and punked out natty hair was just as i remembered it-- it was the x-ray spex, the green cover, the band and album name i could never remember. mostly because i thought the title was teenage adolescents, which i knew made no sense when i asked everyone i knew if they knew the tune.

listening to a song only once sometimes leaves and impression in my head, defined, sharp, but not sharp enough that i can recall what the song is so i could buy the album. i thought i had honed the skill well- watching 120 minutes every sunday night before pulling all nighters to finish monday's homework. picking up song titles on the radio. thinking up possible titles after hearing the chorus of an unnamed song.

the same thing happened when i saw pearl jam's alive video, before it became popular; i walked around school singing the song appropriately mushmouthed. cas-nice and regina had no idea what i was talking about.

the one and only time i heard the x-ray spex was on the floor of maya's apartment-- and not the tall maya descha and craig know, a small cute kid who hated being called maya the bee, like the cartoon. it was one of the first times, and perhaps the first time, i had gotten good and drunk. off of wine coolers. it was 1991 or so, hanging out with ellen and whoever else we were friends with back in the day. it was a foggy night and maya's apartment looked over the emptying streets at 77th and lexington, as i stumbled over words and hummed along to the song "germfree adolescents," yelling things into the other room.

being that the song itself is fairly mellow i never linked it with loud punk rock; ellen didn't know the five words of the song i knew, nor did abe, veronica, or any of the other kids i walked up to. i must have sounded like a dealer-- "hey, hey, man, listen to this-- you know this song man?"

i did forget about looking for the song but it's the kind of tune that finds its way into your head yearly-- simple, sweet, obviously sloppy but intentionally so-- so sloppy it feels genuine, sharp. i don't listen to much of the punk rock and late 70's imported british music. it's only these days that i'm going back to the clash (and the bay city rollers, but that has nothing to do with this conversation). but the not knowing felt like a little gap in knowledge; and i take my music identification seriously.

and 13 years later, it's on my laptop. hot.

Friday, October 08, 2004

phlegmatic 10.8.04

so i am coughing up a lung and all. but i am getting better. i went to book club last night with nicky marie and her friend sue (everyone else was sick. not that i know everyone else) and we swapped books. that's about all i have to say.

but you, dear readers, can give me your opinion on what makes crazy women crazy, and when crazy becomes too crazy. i am giving my opinion to nathan on the subject but it's always nice to have some other objective ideas...

that means you, michaels.

Thursday, October 07, 2004

out on the tiles 10.7.04

yeah, i been lazy. or busy. i think i have been busy. but i have been doing my homework between sneezing and coughing bouts (i might have to get that checked out at school, get some top medicines to kick this... possible flu?).

and writing a little. you will join me for the national novel writer's month, the best non-contest that i and other people have told you about. yes, even you, silver, even if you're not listening. sign up at the link above.