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 |   My fourth blog. Amazing yet disconcerting. Don't worry; this'll go away in a year or so. |
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First there was "I'm Studying You"  ...then there was "Who Do I Think I Am??" . Finally, we reached "Who do I still think I am??" .Until now. Welcome to the Buffalo in your soul...       A THREE-TIME CHAMPION OF THE "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" !   |
Good afternoon folks...happy Friday! Interesting prompts today...so let's get right into 'em.  "Let's talk~ How do you start conversations with strangers? What topics do you avoid? Is it easier with one gender or another?"I'm not so sure I'm outgoing enough to approach random people and kick up a conversation with 'em. Especially if I'm out roaming the world unaccompanied...you leave me alone, I'll leave you alone, and we go about our business without the need for intersection. I don't talk unless I absolutely have to. So to address the prompt properly and in regards to gender, it's not any easier or harder to talk to people I don't know. As long as you don't look like you'll drag me off into a dark alley if I'm lost and need directions, I'll approach you. In mixed company...sorry; no surprises here. I generally try to avoid things like religion and politics, but I'm not sure if it's because I don't wanna come off sounding like an a-hole and offending someone with an opposing viewpoint, or if it's because I don't want to be paid lip service from whatever side you're on. It's generally easier to stay neutral and keep the peace so everyone can enjoy themselves without the burden of heavy topics. I'd rather be quiet and let someone think I'm stupid than open my mouth and prove them right (and I know that's a paraphrase of a quote from some great barstool philosopher or dignitary, but I'm too lazy to research it any further). BCF PROMPT: "Let's talk about the psychology of fright. What do so many people enjoy about being terrified? Discuss the physical and emotional needs that are filled through this experience." In my opinion fright, like so many other palpable feelings, is based on escapism. Romance novels, historical fiction, scary movies, etc. ...they take us out of our comfort zone and reality for a little while and allow us to explore something different that maybe we don't always get to in our day-to-day existence. And there's nothing wrong with that. Personally, I'm jumpy enough sometimes without the need to have the living shit scared outta me. I can do without that feeling. That's not to say I'm some kinda pansy who gets creeped out by spiders or shadows in the dark; far from it, actually. I'm probably too grounded in reality most of the time, to a fault (though surely that's debatable to some). A Stephen King novel to me is no more frightening than the front page of a newspaper. But some people need to feel that rush. Nothing wrong with that, because like I said, it's a form of escape. It's a lesser sense, if touch, taste, smell, sight and sound are major. Fright fulfills that as much as joy, despair, educational enrichment and desperation. As human beings, we're some of the neediest creatures on the planet...fright is just one of the many ways we choose to satisfy ourselves. MUSICAL BREAK!! ** Image ID #2010042 Unavailable ** So I had this friend in junior high who really liked this girl...I wasn't attracted to her, but she was a cheerleader and being dorks, she was pretty far above our social status. But he was convinced he'd have a shot at her if he had a way to separate himself from the pack (and her from her hotshot, stacked, mega whatever boyfriend who was older and, well, whatever). So I suggested we write her a song. This was back in '88 or '89, and we were shit kids with minimal resources. I had a few ideas, so I scribbled some lyrics down one late night and the next day, we set out kickin' it on the garage sale tip. We came across an old copy of Billy Ocean's "Caribbean Queen" on 45 (the b-side was the instrumental version), and armed with my dual-cassette boom box and some tapes from my collection, we headed into his garage. I outlined him some thoughts, showed him my lyrics, and off we went. It was a cheesy song where I sang this corny verse about romance over the Billy Ocean instrumental slowed down to 33rpm. We cut in a break from an LL Cool J song before I popped some love raps over (if I'm not mistaken) "The Humpty Dance" by Digital Underground...rockin' rewind-pause over the boom box a little and struggling to record it in as few takes as possible, because we were dorks, not sound engineers...and that kind of recording process isn't recommended, especially now in the days of well, every other way to do it. I know I had a copy of the end process for a little while, and I remember not very long after that that it was embarrassing. But I wish I still owned it, because there was some mad production skills, and even a few years later in high school, there was some teenage booty-shakin' goin' on to my jam. Girls were like, "I can't believe it was you that created that song for her! It was so sweet, and so awesome! <or whatever the girls said back then>". And I played it off, because I didn't do it for a girl, but for a friend. So what if I conceived and wrote and rapped and co-created it. He fronted the quarter (seriously...$0.25) at the garage sale for that Billy Ocean 45rpm record, and it was his love interest. My boom box, my cassettes, my voice and words, and his turntable, speakers and garage. Even Stevens. I might've had some amateur keyboard involved, but that's cancelled out by us not needing its drum machine beats and him having zero chance of dating her. Ever. Ev-urrrr. And why am I telling you this? Because of all the lyrics to that one and only song I wrote and co-produced, on the notepad my now-deceased graphic designer aunt made for me with my childhood nickname and a Superman logo on it (no offense, but I'll still never understand that), this is all I can remember: "'Girl you know it's true' ain't the name of my rhyme, but girl you know it's true that you could be mine." And where did I jack those lines from? Milli fucking Vanilli. Because, yep...I was sucked into the Milli Vanilli craze. I'm not ashamed to admit it. Catchy, dancy, and I was young enough to not know better. It was mom-friendly (until I tried dancing to it and over-playing it). And on Mondays in 8th grade, my brother and I would spend the night at our grandmother's house...where her bedroom was the opposite end of the house from the bathroom, so I could take a shower late at night and belt out Milli Vanilli tunes blasting on my boom box without disturbing anyone and shave with the disposable razors I stole from my mom, thinking no one was the wiser. And when "Blame It On The Rain" came on while I was still in the shower? That was the fucking apex of the experience! We grew up in an apartment with just a stationary tub, so it was baths every night...but gramma's house had the big bathroom with a shower that had a detachable nozzle, so I could sing along into that shit! And that song was the jam well before anyone ever thought they might not sound like a failure saying "<insert middling pop song here> is my jam!!". But then the whole "Milli Vanilli are frauds" thing happened, and while I don't think anyone has ever bothered to discern which one was Milli and which one was Vanilli, that didn't stop them from trying, failing, trying, failing, and trying again, until one of them (Rob Pilatus) died the typical 80's/90's star-gone-wrong death from the booze/pills OD. So, in short, I wrote a song once. For a girl that I wasn't interested in. Based off a song from a band I used to sing to in the shower. Don't be cool, kids...or else. "You let her walk away...now it just don't feel the same. Gotta blame it on something." Lyrics and interpretations. THE DAILY BOX SCORE:  The best way to communicate with a stranger? Leave 'em a hilarious note.  And then there's this week's "funny photos" , some of which have a bit of a Halloween-ish theme to them.Ok, well, I think I've said enough for today...mom's got a turkey in the oven and I've got an appetite goin', so I better start thinkin' about doin' somethin' else with the rest of the afternoon. Peace, whatever you do, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
 "They say you can't go home again. (After being gone for years from a home you grew up in.) Do you agree with this statement?" Greetings from sunny Western New York, y'all! This prompt almost isn't fair today, since I'm visiting home for the next few days  . And what's the first thing I did, before even stopping by my mom's to drop off my bags and say hi? Got some chicken wings, of course. And it appears my brother and I may be going out for wings again tonight, because it's WNY, and you can't quite get wings anywhere else that are as good as the ones you can get here. I've tried. Many who have left the area have tried. It's just not meant to be...sorry, rest of the world.Many people leave their hometowns, for a variety of reasons. Some can come back and it's like they never left. Others can't come home, because they'd rather not look back. I say do whatever works for you. It's not my job as an adult to say whether you should or shouldn't go back home. They're your reasons, and I respect that. MUSICAL BREAK!! ** Image ID #2010042 Unavailable ** Most of you know who the Red Hot Chili Peppers are, and you might know they went through a bunch of lineups before becoming mega-famous. Who knows if they'd have been the same band they are now had they not lost one of their first guitarists, Hillel Slovak, to a heroin overdose after their second and third albums? It's really hard to say, since their breakthrough song "Under The Bridge" was about the struggle to overcome addiction...Slovak was long deceased by that point, but you don't find yourself very far removed from the scene without losing a few people along the way. I went with "Me And My Friends" because it's a fun tribute to some of the people you've had the best times with through early adulthood, and there often isn't a better way to document that than by putting them down in a song. THE DAILY BOX SCORE:  Figures...my phone, even though it's a local 716 number, doesn't work right when I come back home. I missed two calls (numbers I don't know, so it doesn't seem like they're that important), but I can't check my voice mails and have no clue if my text messaging works. And the only reason I'm kinda concerned about this is because of where my mom lives...right practically on the border of two counties, and for the longest time (back when "roaming" was still a problem) certain providers had a signal in one county, but not the other. Coupling that with the problem I'm having when I'm at school and my phone only works in about 50% of the building (which is totally not in a vicinity supported fully by my area code), I guess it's time to start looking at switching service again. And that means a new number. And a new phone. And that feels almost like more of a pain in the ass than having a phone not work in some places. Decisions, decisions. Hockey's back! First game of the Sabres season! Whoo hoo! They're a young team that's expected to suck even more than they did last year...but somehow the future seems more optimistic this year as opposed to last year. We'll see. At least for a few weeks though, yay hockey!!Well, guess I better fold my laundry and figure out the plans for the evening...where to get wings, where to watch hockey, all that kinda "I'm home!" stuff. Peace, like my heart needs to beat, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! Have fun gettin' that outta your head the rest of the night.  |
 "Hope Always. Write Anyway. What do you think?" What up folks? Just me, sittin' here, puttin' off that last-minute packin' before I head back to Buffalo for a few days. I think the worst part of going anywhere isn't the return; it's this part here...waitin' before you can actually leave. So with that in mind I'll attempt to do what I probably do best: kill some time and bang out another blog entry."Hope always; write anyway." I like that. Sounds good, like it should be on a bumper sticker or Bedazzled on a denim jacket or somethin'. It reminds me of a line in a rather dark song by my favorite Canadian rapper (and ex-New York Yankees prospect) Buck 65; "I go under the blouse, and grope for the breast...I call this one hope, and hope for the best." It tells me we're always gonna have adventures no matter what, good and/or bad regardless of what we hope for, but it's important to write about them anyway.See, how much of anything really turns out like it was initially envisioned? Would your favorite book be dead in the water if the main character chose the left door instead of making a sandwich? How many movies would be over in five minutes if the star did the sensible thing rather than something totally unforeseeable that ends up becoming the exact premise of the story? There's always an ending to every situation that hasn't been written yet. The only requirement is that it starts with a hope of some sort, even if that hope is the outlook seems kinda hopeless. I think this is a fascinating prompt, Princess Megan Rose 22 Years  . Thanks for that.BCF PROMPT: "What would your weapon of choice be in a zombie apocalypse?" Thanks for wakin' up and gettin' that prompt out in a timely manner, Charlie ~  .   I don't believe in the whole "zombie" thing, but I'll tell you what my weapon would be. It's simple really; guaranteed to stop this nonsense before it even starts. I'd make sure every mortician had enough sense to tie the shoelaces of the dead together before they're buried. Boom! Problem solved. It's hard to be a zombie with your rotting flesh and whatnot when you're also trippin' all over your dead-ass self. See? What'd I say about making the right choice within the first five minutes? Got that prompt outta the way with the quickness. MUSICAL BREAK!! ** Image ID #2010042 Unavailable ** Today in the "Resurrection Jukebox" , let's go with a great band from Minnesota (lotta great music comin' outta there), The Replacements. They were somethin'...sloppy, irreverent, and almost super-famous until they imploded, because that's what a lot of bands do when they start out young and booze and do drugs and play music as an afterthought. And sure, they finally reunited recently to start touring again, but without founding member Bob Stinson, who left the band and died in 1995 after battling drug and alcohol issues.If you were to ask me to make a biographically-themed cd, the tracklist might vary based on the day but almost certainly this song would appear on every incarnation of it. Seems like no matter what we've got, we're rarely happy with it. We can't just be content...is there anything more? Should there be something more? What could I have done better? Actions and reactions sometimes tend to pose more questions than the answers they provide. Life can be maddening enough without overthinking it that way, but too often that's where I end up. I guess it's better than the alternative of not thinking at all. THE DAILY BOX SCORE:  Like many of you, I'm on Twitter (@fivesixer...following me doesn't cost you a thing or hurt you that much ). I don't use it very often, although now that it's football season I'll be on it a little more regularly, throwing out bitter and twisted attempts at humor (some of which, as an example, you can see here: "Twitter and Facebook Screen Shots" ). But like all things internet, some people just shouldn't be allowed to use it by themselves...take these 19 instances of people who shouldn't be allowed to tweet anymore . Makes me a little sad that we have all this great technology now in the world and yet some people are still so, so dumb.Alright, well, my brother just text'd me a few minutes ago to tell me he's on his way, so I guess that means I better jump in the shower and really do that packin' thing. Next time we see each other here, it'll be from the hometown. Peace, anything goes, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
Party people, welcome to "Still Figurin' Out Who I Think I Am" , where uninformed, uninvited, and uncultured opinions are welcome and prevalent at times! Hope you people are having a fantastic day so far...I know I am, but that's because of my reasons, so let's get over ourselves and see what today brings... "Ebola. Thoughts?"Like I said in my business class last night (regarding most corporations' "sick time" policies and how they treat them), "Don't get sick." Same with Ebola...don't get it. Politically, the left says "we've got it under control", while the right says "hide yo wife, hide yo kids, hide yo husbins, they ebola-in' errr-body!". C'mon man, can't we get a god damned scientist up in Congress for once who understands the dangers of the planet (who isn't already related to politics through banking, or being a lawyer, or the scent of big money pocketeering)? Fuckin' A...I don't want some kiss-ass lawyer tellin' me it's ok to shoot guns at other nut-jobs, and I don't want some white-collar bank baron tellin' me it's ok to rape women in their god's name while they milk 401k's for all they're worth. Ain't a damn scientist in what we know as "Congress" right now. And I'm not endorsing anyone here, or saying I know any better, but for real...the quote-unquote bankers, lawyers, and economists we have up in the cushy seats in one of the worst places to live in the US don't and won't have an answer for Ebola. Politicians will tell you to spit-shine your crusty ol' hole-ridden Adidas Shell-toes. They'll say "Get a tarp" when it comes to hurricanes. And they'll offer the poor only the cheapest, nutritionless food opportunities to the poor. Flu shots? Yeah, they're free, if you have an insurance that'll pay for it, which you most likely pay for in the long run, and even then there's no guarantees that the vaccines purchased at a large volume and distributed to the drug store pharmacies offering it will actually work. If they get the strain wrong, then we hear the words of corporation- and media-induced fright, "Flu Epidemic". And you think that because you got a shot and still got sick the Governor's gonna come and wipe your nose because he promised enabled you to have a shot to prevent a certain illness, and you took it, but you still got sick? No. he's somewhere else on Big Pharma's corporate jet, trying to spread the sickness share. Pig Big Pharma owns the US because there's money in keeping people sick. It's a better business decision than keeping people healthy, cognizant, and aware. "Let's fill 'em with pills and chemical solutions and fancy ray-guns and tell 'em it's the truth, so we can get that insurance money!" Fuck that. They don't care about the depreciating quality of life, the total loss patients feel, nothing. Why do people say "Fill me up with radiation, so I'm so sick that I can't enjoy my grandkids"? Isn't that the point of grandparents? To enjoy that? Fuck. Maybe I'm so wrong, but hear me out. I'm not convinced that Democrats know what to do about Ebola, and Republicans aren't sure either, so their first goal is to attack the Dems. And the Repubs say "Secure The Border!!" like it's the fucking cure. And it's not; especially if we're sending trained physicians out there where it's happening to help solve the problem. Is letting an afflicted Ebola sufferer into the US ok? Yes and no. Are the docs here more trained to deal with it? And don't doctors and Pharmacists take the Hippocratic Oath ? Personally, I don't know but shouldn't our doctors and scientists have the abilities to treat strains of viruses without blowing out a "blanket cure" before it becomes an epidemic, before it becomes too late? Is Africa our farm team, in baseball parlance? Are we reintroducing these sicknesses into the world so we can find a way to treat them, and then bringing them into America first with "the fear", and after a few people die, Big Pharm can swoop in with another "well, you're not gonna get it, but you might unless you take our shot" excuse scam to please big businesses?I'm getting way off track...basically, Ebola sucks, and we as a society won't care until it really hits home and we have to start raising money "for a cause" by wearing and putting ribbons on our cars to support some needy family who lost a kid to Ebola because that's who we are now as a nation. And we don't have to be so fucking sad and dependent. We're the smartest god damn country in the world...figure this shit out before retail empires have to get involved and slutty teenagers have to start wearing t-shirts for no reason other than they say "Free Ebola" or some other dumb shit on 'em. BCF PROMPT: "Tell us about your ideal hayride. What would you bring? Who would be there?" My ideal hayride? No! Don't bullshit me! Why are these considered fun? Let's sit on bales of hay that horses, cows, sheep,or whatever have shit on, and let some jackoff try to "scare" us in the process? Realistically, I could shit myself and then wake up the next morning wondering what happened before I needed to ride on an animal toting a bunch of people through a forest through of people caked in illy-advised makeup grabbing at my legs in an effort to scare the shit outta me. Same with the corporate "haunted houses" you see popping up in deserted strip malls. Ain't died when I was working there; ain't gonna die in the park with a forest where I played baseball, football, and basketball in either...like the local news wouldn't be all over that! "Man dies on the hiking trails of Losson Park...story at 11.". Naw man. Bike paths of Amherst? That's another story, and there have been books written about that. But word, I don't have the time nor patience to get all up in nature. Well, yeah, I have, but we can save that for later. Alright Lyn's a sly fox  , an ideal hayride might take us through some scary-but-not-so-scary parts. Like, we know it's gonna be scary but "we're not gonna die" stuff. I'll be amused, and I won't be bored. I'll just grab my rider close next to me, and if she's not scared I'll wipe off my attempts at distracting her from her enjoyment, hope she's enjoying the actors playing the forest creepers, and pray she's batshit crazy enough to accept me that hayrides aren't my thing, but me-and-you stuff is. And I don't really have a "thing" except "leave me alone when I write" and "let's sleep in on Sundays before I shop for an amazing football Sunday feast where we can watch football and drink beer that I will help prepare and clean up after". I've been there. I've done that. Shake me from my hoity-toity mountain bottom. Make me more than making delectable alternative nacho treat morsels for your friends and collapsing into fantasy football insanity on my alone time! I'm not your team; WE are your team! Oh...I'mma shut up now. Nobody cares if it's a Tuesday. Sorry not sorry for that rant...that last paragraph was where I left off to take a nap and I guess I assumed this was all over with. So I guess the answer to this prompt is Hay Rides on my own: NO; Hay Rides with a pretty lady who lets me do stuff because I go on Hay Rides: YES. MUSICAL BREAK!! ** Image ID #2010042 Unavailable ** It's getting harder than I thought it'd be to pick out some dead artists for the "Resurrection Jukebox" . But that's partly my own fault because I don't wanna repeat artists and bands and...10 more days of this?! Then I'll let everyone else have the easy picks and then cherry-pick some faves at the end, if I get that hard-up for names. Today I'm ridin' with Bobby Womack, who died earlier this year, but not for reasons you'd think. Sure, he was some classic R&B croonin' funk jive cat back in the 70's, but I didn't get turned on to the strength in his wail until a few years ago when he was a side player along Mos Def on Gorillaz' Plastic Beach album. Classic car chase (fat cop: no donut), Bruce Willis playing a stereotypical gun-happy vigilante (eye candy), and computer-animated freaks winning in the end...that's "Stylo". This ain't 110th Street. "If it's love is electric; it'll be flowing on the streets. Night after night. just to get through the week. Sometimes it's hard right now." Lyrics. THE DAILY BOX SCORE:  Been tryin' to get back into eatin' healthy again (hence the shards of lettuce in my fridge), but I followed through on some recommendations/local cravings and finally grabbed some food from a Greek place, Pita Gourmet. Of course, I ordered possibly the least-healthiest menu option, a gyro. I had a gyro once at the Erie County Fair, and like all fair food, it was amazing. This? Not so much. Loaded with lettuce which wasn't draped in enough Tzatsiki, and the pita itself wasn't sustainable. Plus, while I'm all for charred meats, if they're in my gyro I'd prefer them to be not stacked atop each other in my little hand-held meat missile aimed for my gullet. Bonus non-plus: Usually hardcore Greek places shave the meat off the lamb from a rotating, roasting skewer of some sort...and while this place had no shortage of the standard pretty counterhelp, there was no rotating meat of any sort to be found. Very disappointing. I even skipped breakfast for it...and I forgot to ask for Feta on it as well. And if you're curious about Ebola, here's a handy flowchart just to make sure you're not afflicted. With all the negativity surrounding the world today, don't we need some positive messages? Here's some Ron Swanson motivational posters for your room, office, cubicle, or pantry party panties place where you hang out the most. Looks like I'm headin' to Buffalo tomorrow instead of Friday...change of tentative plans. Get that nugget of info, cancel what I have goin' on, and then get the "That's ok?" message from my mom. Yeah, that's ok, now...it damn well better be! Just playin' mom ('cuz I know she reads this). I know it's not easy and all for me being so far away and hard to get to and an inconvenience at times and after Thanksgiving or Christmas it might not be 'til the spring before we meet up again, so I'll...just shut up now, and thanks for lettin' me crash on your couch, watch ESPN 'til I fall asleep, and eat some damn appreciated, rib-stickin', home-cooked goodness.Well, I think I set out to do all that I accomplished today (including the rescheduling of the next two days' worth of shit stuff)...on to the rest of my evening, and yours too for that matter. Peace, always searching, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
** Image ID #2010042 Unavailable ** What's goin' on you guys? Another Monday almost in the books...the start of a busy week that for me ends with bein' on "Fall Break" starting tomorrow night after Science class, so yeah I just wanna make it through the rest of today and tomorrow in one piece. I'm goin' NP (no prompts) today because I literally don't wanna be up all night tonight (by choice at least), which could be what I'm lookin' at were I to actually consider a full-length entry (and that's what I get for not using my time wisely this afternoon...stupid homework ). So here's my pick tonight for "Resurrection Jukebox" ..."The Slider" by T.Rex.You might be more familiar with "Bang A Gong" (which was covered by 80's supergroup Power Station), but ever since an ex-coworker buddy of mine really got me into T.Rex, my favorite song has been "The Slider". It's one of the few songs I can be in almost any kind of mood and no matter what, it makes me feel better. The hook, the instruments that kick in, and the steady (not too slow, not too fast) beat all combine in such a way that makes you almost want to think that it's possible to defy gravity and slide upward...which, well, let's not get into the actual lyrical references to cocaine that are all over this song. Sometimes you just want to enjoy a song for what it is on the surface, and not what it's doin' to the singer's nostrils. Most of the primary members of T.Rex's heyday are dead, with singer Marc Bolan being the first to go while the band was still enjoying relative success and a brief resurgence in popularity. Bolan and T.Rex have played with some legendary figures in the British music scene, and to this day are still influential. THE DAILY BOX SCORE:  Maybe some of you have already seen this on your WDC Newsfeed, but in case you haven't check out "Thank You, SM & SMs!" ...it was a really cool thing to be a part of last fall (I have about a 3.5-second cameo somewhere toward the end ). Just thought I'd share the whole clip again. How about another round of pictures that don't make any sense at first ? Some of these you kinda gotta take a good look at before you realize they're not as improbable (or perverted) as they first appear. And then there's this slideshow of seven children's books reimagined for adults , only I don't believe they're for all adults if ya know what I'm sayin' ...think "overgrown man-childs", like me for example.And that's all yer gettin' outta me tonight, I swear! Well, ok, I'll probably read a few of my fellow Soundtrackers' entries tonight, and maybe make some comments, and then screw around on Facebook while having the MNF game on, but then that's all yer gettin' outta me tonight! Peace, like a ball of love, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
** Image ID #2010042 Unavailable ** 'Sup everyone? No prompts today, so luckily I can keep this short because my head's killin' me...woke up after a bizarre dream at about 3:15am and kinda drifted back into a toss-and-turn war with my sheets that ended up with me being half-asleep at best, but enough to go back and finish the dream under odder circumstances. It's way too long and complex and detailed for me to get into now, because the last thing I feel like doin' is bangin' my fingers across this keyboard in a sensible manner. Plus, I just finished watching a most ridiculous football game that I absolutely don't believe happened...my Buffalo Bills were dominated throughout a pathetic first half of play, and then they kinda chipped away (with some help from the Lions' completely incompetent kicker), and the offense rallied while the defense stiffened...pulling out a last-second win on a 58-yard field goal. I nearly switched games around halftime, to avoid the potential embarrassment of watching my team's life and soul suck out my very own life and soul, but I stuck with it (even after firing off a tweet of an actual dumpster fire) and was rewarded for still Bill-ieving in my team. And I'm glad I looked over the "Invalid Item" , because I had a few songs and artists in mind before I started this entry but it turned out they were already chosen. Had that not been the case, not only would I not have remembered this song for today, but maybe someone else in the group would have used it later on this week (or any of the others in their catalog). Kinda fitting for me all the way around...here's The Ramones with "I Believe In Miracles".THE DAILY BOX SCORE:  Because Bill Murray's wisdom should never not be shared. And this...I can't relate to, but it's hilarious , even if you've had small children take misbehaving to a whole new level.And that's if for me tonight...I'm gonna wind down, get my crap together for tomorrow, and zone out watching hopefully better football the rest of the evening 'cuz I think my thinker's broken. Peace, I believe in a better world, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| BCF PROMPT: "Talk about a song, book, or movie that you didn't like at first, but love now." Good morning y'all! Lots to talk about today, so let's jump right in. Are you familiar with the Violent Femmes? I'm not, mainly because I can't stand the singer's voice. It's too annoying for my liking. But it seemed like every woman growing up in the mid-'90's had an affectation for "Blister In The Sun" like it was some sort of rite of passage into adulthood. It's very mildly irritating, this song. Is it punk? Is it folk-rock? What is it? Does it even know what it wants to be?But I'll tell you what...put a few beers in me and I'll dance to it like it's the only song I know. And "dancing" is a term loosely used because in my vocabulary whatever it is I do isn't in the standard definition...it's kind of a pseudo-mosh, which I suppose is fitting for a pseudo-punk song. Like, "I'm just gonna jump up and down spasticly and if I bump into you it's ok, because Violent Femmes, or something...just don't screwface me or spill my drink." Because after a some drinks, this is the best song ev-arrrrh. And that so wasn't the lead-in for today's entry that I was hoping for. BLOG CITY PROMPT:  "What smells do you connect with autumn? Write a story, a poem or blog to your heart's content about what fall aroma tickles your fancy."I have to admit that I don't smell very well. Like, sniffing; not me personally. It generally means if something doesn't smell right, I'm usually the last to pick up on it (if I do at all). And isn't it customary for most people to only point out the rankest smells? Nobody says "Hey, this place smells great!", but everyone and their brother will more than earnestly point out when something smells like shit. Reason #456 why I hate society. But today, I cracked open my window and noticed it'd rained overnight. In fact, it's still drizzling now. And I'm not a fan of rain, to say the least, but I guess today would be a typical fall day in Central NY. Trees are shedding leaves, girls are already wearing scarves, and the farmer's markets are selling apple cider. Must be October! Dead leaves soaked in rain...if there were a cologne scented like that, that's October to me. That's the official end of summer. Like before we know it, snow will fall and cover that up and I should probably consider hibernating because snow to me is like Kryptonite to Superman. But let's just assume that I'll tough it out for another year, and enjoy today for what it is (even though I'll need to leave the house at some point for some groceries, and no kind of umbrella will make that walk any better). MUSICAL BREAK!! ** Image ID #2010042 Unavailable ** Oh, the moment I've been waiting for! Jay Bennett was a member of Wilco while they were recording their (in my opinion) greatest album, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. He was fired during the recording process, and died few years later from an accidental drug overdose. I Am Trying To Break Your Heart is one of my very favorite movies, and it documents the trials and tribulations of being in a band, recording music, and getting dropped from your record label only to be resigned in the aftermath. Another great underdog story, if you will...and to me, Wilco hasn't topped YHF yet (but A Ghost Is Born and Sky Blue Sky come close).Anyway, Jay Bennett was the behind-the-scenes mastermind for YHF; a multi-instrumentalist with production acumen with a slightly unaware sense of what a good song should sound like (as witnessed by the video below). "I Am Trying To Break Your Heart" is maybe one of the top 5 Wilco songs, in my opinion ("Kingpin" and "I'm The Man Who Loves You" are up there as well). This version doesn't do justice to the album's slice, and that's Jay Bennett's fault...but it's still a great tune, with poetic Jeff Tweedy lyrics. I'm a sucker for great opening lines on the first tracks of many albums, and this (again, my opinion) should be considered among the best. I can't get tired of hearing this song. THE DAILY BOX SCORE:  Because we're all creepers to some extent: 25 Incredibly Creepy Things Everyone Does . And if this isn't the best headline you've ever seen, I don't know what's wrong with your sense of humor: A Pig In Australia Steals 18 Beers From Campers, Gets Drunk, Fights Cow, Passes Out . Then I had a text conversation with the incredible lizco252 last night, because I professed a love for her. And I'm really not good at that sort of thing. But I'll have some money to play around with next week (providing the college grant money gets transferred into my bank account), and I'm thinking Colorado has to be brilliant this time of year. Or Beth is. Something like that.  C'mon...I don't just crush on anyone, people! When have you seen me be so open?And now that I'm done with another entry, I'm watching the window to see if the rain'll slow down enough for me to consider walking in it on a day where I really don't have to leave the house. We'll see what happens. Peace, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't easy, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| BCF PROMPT: "People sure have a lot of opinions about washcloths, towels and sheets: whether to use them, how often to change them, when to replace them, how nice they should be, and on and on. What do you think? Let's talk." Let's talk, blog fam! Please...because my situation is probably unique to me out of all you upper-class cats while I struggle in low-income housing as a broke-ass college student. Sometimes we don't get to make the rules. We're obtuse, we're broken, we're forced. Y'all can discredit that every day of the week, but it happens. If you act like it doesn't, I should have full authority to kick you where your junk isn't. Fucking poor people exist everywhere you cover your eyes, and that's a fact. And now I gotta make good on uber-personal info? C'mon man...some elements of my life need to be left alone! You wanna know when I shower, change my sheets, and smash my face with wet cotton? Are you for real? This literally is none of your business. Unless you're lizco252, who I'd drag my balls to Colorado for before I told y'all pricks that I live in a building above a bar that changes my sheets weekly and empties my trash...oh fucking oh...I think I just said too much. "I was thinking today about this. How do we strike a balance between self exposure and discretion with our writing. I am sure each of us has a comfort zone, but how? Will what we publish hurt someone? Will it embarrass us in years to come? Am I the only one who thinks about this when I write?"Says the woman who just undressed us metaphorically about our bed sheets (no worries Lyn's a sly fox , I still have mad love for you).I don't have a balance, per se. Everything I write is a description or a microcosm of my life at the time. We happen, so it happens. If people around me get naked, I'll be prone to getting naked as well...and perhaps I'll write about them later on. If not, no big deal. I don't know where I'll end up, so I don't know where my writings will end up. I used to know, but those people are so far gone from my life and there's no point anymore in talking about it. But I'm not ashamed. You have access to my WDC portfolio. I just cleaned it out the other day, so get your a-hole on! MUSICAL BREAK!! Eazy-E is dead. He died of AIDS. Plain and simple; no confusion there. But I can't escape the fact that I grew up on hip-hop and gangsta rap. Loved it. Cheesed out on it. Wasn't my life but I wore a baseball cap sideways because I kinda wanted it that way. And "8-Ball" is and was my jam. THE DAILY BOX SCORE: Yesterday was #NationalPoetryDay...and I don't know who's return I'm anticipating more; Brother Nature  or Julie D - PUBLISHED! .I should maybe take a nap now, 'cuz these Triscuits aren't cuttin' it as far as snacktime goes. Peace, I don't drink brass monkey, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| BCF PROMPT: "Have you ever accidentally made a terrible first impression on someone? What do you think makes for a good first impression?" Good evening, fancy readers! I'll get the obligitories out of the way soon enough so I can provide myself ample space to get all unconventional on ya with my "Resurrection Jukebox" pick.Have I ever made a terrible first impression? Sure! You don't look like me and not piss people off unintentionally. In fact, my whole modus operandi is to weed people out based on first impressions. You think my gigantic beard is for fun? No, brothers and sisters...it's to determine who's down with me for the long haul. If you can get past how I look, you've got a ticket to ride shotgun with me wherever I go. Whether you like it or not. That's not to say I don't pick people wisely...I'm pretty choosy, actually; to a fault even. I'd rather fly solo than associate my good (albeit weird) name with douchebags and felons. But I think that's standard for most people, even if it takes a little bit of livin' and learnin' to figure that out. The curious part of this prompt is this: if I made a bad first impression on anyone, what reason would I have to share it? Like, was it a shitty job interview? Did a first date with a super hot chick go haywire? Was I having a bad day when I ran into someone else having an equally bad day? AAAARRRGGGHHHH!! That's not me, I swear! Look man, most of y'all know me as teddy bear who gets bent up over stupid shit I'll be over three days later. That whole "chose your battles" concept is something I'm still learning, even at 39. You'd think I'd know this stuff by now, but life likes to smack you down occasionally and deliver opportunities where you have to struggle to fit in. First impressions? I'm all for the first 36 impressions. Sometimes it's your day, and just as often enough, it isn't. Why hold that against someone?  "Do you believe in angels?"No. Straight up; no. Why should I? I'm not gonna open some supernatural door for the righteous powers of good when evil can just as well walk through it! That's silly! I mean, c'mon, aren't they all on the same plane, or something? Hold up; lemme back my fat ass up a second. Angels exist; I've even seen some sleep . Angels though? In real life? Sure they're out there, and I've blinded myself to their existences. The do-gooders do good without question, the recipients aren't always aware, and I'm stuck in between. Fuckin' angels...doin' me right when wrong is all I seem to accomplish. Riddle me that, my friends. MUSICAL BREAK!! I wasted way too much time today on confronting my love for Ol' Dirty Bastard . Is this his best output? No. But it's the most palatable. And I still wear my "Wu-Tang Forever" t-shirt proudly.THE DAILY BOX SCORE: I'm tired...need me more sleepy. If I can get it. And on that note, I'm shutting this down. Peace, I'm a dirty dancer, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
| 30DBC PROMPT: October is an unofficial month. What's up y'all? It's been a minute since I updated this thing, hasn't it? It becomes easier once you skip a day to skip another, and another...but I still love you, so it's all good. Besides, I've been busy with school, and since Lyn's a sly fox and I are judging September's round of the "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" , I figured it'd be best if I didn't take the shine away from the talented crop of entries. Speaking of the 30DBC, in case you missed it, here's the lowdown on how September's gonna play out: "Regarding October (and September)..." . I haven't forgotten about you! I've managed to catch a few entries here and there between classes, if you were so lucky enough to show up in my newsfeed...but I admit I've been lax in my ability to keep things straight and orderly in regards to the scoring aspect. That'll change next week, when school's on "fall break" and I won't need an alarm to tell me it's time to wake up. Them days are the best. That said, I'm not sure how October's gonna work...will chaos ensue? I haven't looked yet at the 30DBC forum to see what's happening, but I've already seen a few people on board for this month, so I guess we've gotta do somethin', right? I was too wrapped up in September to even think about October ...guess we've got a good thing goin'.BCF PROMPT: "What is your favorite thing about October? Write a story or poem. Be creative and have fun."  She's only legit if her iPhone screen is cracked. I guess I never thought about October that way; what do I like about it? It's a month. What's to like about a month? Sure, there's the whole "changing leaves" thing, but if you're on the other side of the world you're not privy to that this time of year. Football's in full swing, baseball will see the winner of the World Series, and hockey's about to start...but if you don't like sports that means nothing to you. What we've seen in recent years though is the "holiday-ification" of everything. Products going to market are geared to take advantage of seasons. Look at your local stores...doesn't there seem to be a theme in certain aisles, and even some specific products? It used to be that Christmas was the one time of year where everything was decked out in red, green and gold; money was no object because hey, gift giving and all. All other holidays were relegated to Charlie Brown specials on TV. But now, in the age where everyone gets a trophy for participating, there's a damn near public outcry if your religious observance isn't acknowledged by the grocery store. Halloween is a good example. When I was a kid, you'd go to a store and select your plastic costume with an ill-fitting mask that you could barely see through that made your face sweat like you never knew sweat could sweat. In fact, all through growing up and playing sports, I've never experienced a similar type of sweat that only a face could sweat under those masks. If I didn't know any better, I'd say those costumes were designed by someone who hated children. But now, instead of costumes, retailers are all about the candy. Wanna buy Reese's peanut butter cups? Sure...but you have to buy the special "treat" bags if you want the best deal (and don't get me started on Reese's seasonal offerings, where there's a significantly higher peanut butter to chocolate ratio). Pumpkins and bats and witches and ghosts on everything. Fuck that...I want my goods to come without an emblem signifying when I purchased it. And then there's the whole "pumpkin spice" craze. Are you kiddin' me? Now damn near everything comes "pumpkin flavored". I'm calling bullshit on that. You know what a pumpkin looks like. It's a gourd; the same vegetable family as squash. In other words, it's gross. It has no discernible flavor. Why do we have pumpkin pies and not squash pies? Simple. Ain't no good way to doctor up a squash, no matter how much cinnamon, nutmeg, and brown sugar ya got. Yet this is acceptable for pumpkins? I don't get it, even though I love a good pumpkin pie (albeit with a heavy dose of Redi-whip). Who decided this needed to be a universal autumn thing? Now you can get "pumpkin"-flavored whatevers every time you to turn around in a store, and that's not a good thing...in fact, it's misleading. Nobody bites into a pumpkin like they would an apple. Why am I led to believe that anything pumpkin-esque should be appetizing? It's not the pumpkin I'm tasting; it's the spice(s). A concoction. A sham. Perpetuated, no doubt, by some silly, stupid white girl in yoga pants who loves this time of year because she can identify it with and justify her trips to Starbucks. And as contradictory as it sounds, it's the girl in yoga pants (the new-age "sweatpants") that I love the most about this time of year. The thought that she's casual and confident enough in herself to not care that a creepy ogler like me would check out her ass in the yoga pants she doesn't do yoga in. Everybody wins; where's my trophy? MUSICAL BREAK!! ** Image ID #2010042 Unavailable ** How skewed would the modern music industry be if Andrew Wood hadn't OD'd on heroin? This is the bridge between the glammy shit-pop "hard rock" of the 80's and the grunge outbreak in the 90's. If Mother Love Bone was the "next great thing", there might not have been a Nirvana, Soundgarden, Pearl Jam, etc. We'd be stuck watching Poison and Motley Crue...oh wait...we kinda still are. But this was next-level game before its time; all the 80's glam with post-rock musicianship. And I freaking love this, so don't judge me because it fits me, or whatever (find another reason to judge me). "This is my kinda love; it's the kind that moves on. It's the kind that leaves me alone." Lyrics and interpretations. THE DAILY BOX SCORE:  "If you could be anyone or anything this Halloween, who or what would you want to be? Why?"I don't "do" Halloween, because I've got better things to do than play pretend or scrounge for candy. It's just another fucking day to me, and it has nothing to do with me overdosing on candy as a child. And I'll probably be too wrapped up in real life stuff this year to give a shit about another 10/31. That's not to say that I don't care about Halloween...priorities, my man. When I'm down for something, I go all-in. It might take me awhile to convince myself to get into a "costume" of sorts, but once that happens, I get all boo-yah about it. I'm either zero percent, or overboard. 2009's corporate rock whore, and yes, that's my real hair. While it'd be cool to be someone else's Halloween date, I have no patience now for other people and I don't wish to learn any. Unless your ass outperforms yoga pants. Then we can maybe talk. So I did the group-share thing and opened up "Black Monday Moon" for perusal...and it basically got slammed. Some points were good and unintentional (conjunctions), and poetry nerds fucking collapsed everything I fucking care about when I decide to write anything. Smart people can kiss my ass. I am now a partaker in Elle - on hiatus  's Snail Mail group, and I can't wait to infect my scribblings concealed as words on someone! And who doesn't like mail that isn't bills, statements, or garbage? Because also I'm done with writing now and I'm bored. Click this if you hate people as much as I do. And just like that, I smashed up another blog entry. Shoulda been doin' that all along. Peace, not a pretty sight, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
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