%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |   My fourth blog. Amazing yet disconcerting. Don't worry; this'll go away in a year or so. |
|
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" !   |
** Image ID #2009874 Unavailable ** This is it! The last song! Technically, Day Fifteen. Nine freakin' entries in one afternoon/evening. My eyeballs are so spent right now. I've learned my lesson...do things in a timely, orderly fashion.  I don't even know what I can really say about a song that has its own Wikipedia entry , other than I'll bet many of you didn't know I'm a Dino fan. With that in mind, tl;dr: It was written by a couple dudes who aren't important, because history isn't kind to the people who just write songs for others and that's it. Frank Sinatra (among others) couldn't make it famous (but you know he damn well tried, until he gave it to his boy Dean Martin like "Sloppy seconds, motherfucker!"). Martin straight up killed it yo, and the song kept alive his lengthy streak of singing songs with a drink and a smoke in one hand. Truly, everyone really has loved somebody at sometime.There it is, you guys! All fifteen songs for the "Resurrection Jukebox" . My sincerest apologies to lizco252 for dumping two-thirds of my entries off on one night...Trick Or Treat! Now, with all due respect, peace, and GOODNIGHT NOW!!If you don't know what the lyrics are, you will never really know true love whatsoever. |
** Image ID #2009874 Unavailable ** Ok, here's one all y'all true music nerds are gonna make me feel embarrassed about, like I should've known this or somethin'...I never really listened to The Band (and I know..."What band?" Fuck you...I got jokes, but it's too late for jokes and I've only got one more of these to write, so I may get to bed before the whole "turn your clocks back an hour" thing that happens tonight. So you know, The Band. That's the name of the band, The fucking Band.). I'd heard of them, and every god damn local band in every dive bar across the US and Canada has been inspired by them (here, they're really called The Band ), but me? Nope. Took me hearing one song on a stupid ass Facebook game to cop their Greatest Hits off iTunes last winter. Last winter!! What can I say? I'm always a late adopter of cool shit. And it's funny...I think I've mentioned at some point to both skeason  and Lyn's a sly fox  this week something about the Grateful Dead. I was gonna add them to my playlist for this, because I'd read that Black Flag did a cover of "Truckin'"...but I'll be damned that no one has put that shit up on YouTube. There's 8.32 billion useless Justin Bieber songs crashing into one another on the internet, and not one fucking legendary, meaningful 80's punk band covering hippy jam band music?! If there were ever one good reason to call the triple-dubya a failure, there it is.But as I was scrolling through my iTunes library this afternoon, mining it for ideas, I came across The Band (that band), and I thought to myself "Someone's had to have covered 'The Weight'". Luckily, my ability to look things up without anyone else's help really wasn't broken (a legit thought after being foiled on the Grateful Dead/Black Flag thing), and after a few clicks I was able to put together a Dead/Band (wow, that's kinda fun to type) connection. So yeah, like most kids I had a Grateful Dead's Greatest Hits cd out of curiosity at some point...but I'm not one of them Deadhead types (although, good for them). I have a couple of their studio albums now because they were my uncle's, and I got his cds when he passed two years ago. They're alright to listen to for a couple of songs, but if I had to listen to one of their records straight through, I might try to pull my ear canals out through my ass. And speaking of dead people, like, half the prominent members of The Band (not the Grateful Dead, but The Band) are no longer with us...and Jerry Garcia joined them a few years ago. Me? I gave up a fun evening of Songpop just so I could type all this out.  |
** Image ID #2009874 Unavailable ** When did I turn into such an indecisive prick? It's 10 to midnight, last night of the "Resurrection Jukebox" , and I'm deviating again from my originally intended choice for this slot. Why why why?? I'll tell you why:  I've got a fever... So much for The Low Anthem's cover of Wilco's "A Shot In The Arm"...I don't listen to The Low Anthem anyway, and once I really looked at the setlist for that ridiculous 2013 Wilco concert of 27 cover songs , I didn't really have a choice. A change clearly needed to be made. But instead of pussin' out and using the one-minute clip that's available on YouTube from that crazy gig, I found an older one...so that's what I'm using, with good reason. I saw Wilco on this 2005 concert tour...they played on the front lawn of Buffalo's Albright Knox Art Gallery . They showed up with My Morning Jacket and lord I don't remember who else, but a guy I used to work with went on early in the afternoon with the local band he was playing in, which was really cool. I couldn't get into MMJ that night. I didn't see what the big deal about them was, but I was unimpressed. Plus, it was pretty hot out, and I think by that point the crazy ex-girlfriend and I had drank up all the beer money we brought in, and I wasn't walking back to the car to get more just because she couldn't wear clothes with pockets. I do believe, however, had they busted out "Don't Fear The Reaper" by Blue Oyster Cult, I may have purchased their entire catalog the next time I felt like blowing a paycheck at Record Theatre (and don't tell me you haven't done that at least once in an indie record shop). So Happy Halloween (  again )...here's Wilco and My Morning Jacket doing up Blue Oyster Cult."Seasons don't fear the reaper... nor do the wind, the sun or the rain. We can be like they are." Lyrics. So, we know that Wilco fired Jay Bennett because he was kinda an asshole (documented nicely in the movie I Am Trying To Break Your Heart ), and he later died I think from an OD. I dunno about anyone dying from My Morning Jacket, and I'm not interested. And Blue Oyster Cult? It's too late and I'm too lazy, but I sure someone's gotta be dead there, right? The original song is, like, just as old as me, so the band members have to be in their 60's or 70's by now, and with the amount of drugs one must use to write a song called "Seven Screaming Dizbusters" (seriously, I know it's way past my bedtime and all, but there's no way I could make that up), surely someone had to have caught the liver or pancreatic cancer or somethin' by now. |
** Image ID #2009874 Unavailable ** I not gonna lie (c'mon now, when do I?)...I am not the world's foremost Creedence Clearwater Revival authority. Don't get me wrong; I like most of the songs I've heard by them. I think they're pretty neat-o for what they are and what they did, but I think I speak for the majority of people who have ever owned any CCR recordings when I say "I've only ever owned their greatest hits cd". Like, do they even have any other albums? 'Cuz that's the only one I ever have seen, anywhere. Not that I go lookin' or anything, but if I happen upon someone's cd or record collection, and I notice they have some CCR, it's always fuckin' Chronicle, Vol. 1. And not Vol. 2 or Vol. 3 (which is bullshit because I don't think there's even such a thing as the 2nd or 3rd volumes, so don't title your shit Volume 1 because that implies more volumes are coming...you lying fucking liars  ).And I still have the very first copy of that Volume One chicanery I ever owned, and it still plays, and lemme tell you why that's a big deal. It's a disc an old coworker burned for me back...1998 I think? On a first-generation cd burner. The guy was tellin' me about this thing, and he was ecstatic about it as one should've been at the time. He was like "Dude, I have all these cds, so you tell me what you want and I'll burn 'em for you!", and he dragged out "burn" like some kind of tweaked-out surfer bruh (which he was certainly not, but he totally had that right because he now owned the coolest piece of home electronics in all the land). He came into work one day, and I think neither of us took the other seriously when he offered, but he threw a stapled pack of paper in my surprised direction that, no shit, contained every cd he owned, and told me to circle what I wanted or whatever, so I went to town on his big-ass typed out list. I gave it back to him a few days later, and he was like "Ok, cool, I'll get on this soon. Gimme a few weeks...", because back in the old days burning music took actual, measurable time. It was kinda insane...you kids'll never know the struggle. I've seen Starbucks coffee shops go up faster in the time it took to burn a cd in 1998. We also had to agree on some kind of payment, because blank disks (we also spelled "disc" with a "k" in Old America) were like $2 apiece. Also, a pack of Marlboros could be had for $2, and I know this because that's the year I started funding my own nicotine purchases rather than constantly bumming them off of friends and coworkers. Nowadays, a pack of smokes is like $10 in some places, as is like an entire 100-ct. spindle of blank cds. And I've conveniently forgotten the point I was trying to make. But all I know is I still have some of those very same cds. Anyway, ya know what song isn't on CCR's Chronicle? (See how easy it was just to call it that, without the hokey "Vol. 1" next to it?) The most underrated song, I'm sure, in their entire catalog..."Effigy". Six god damn minutes of pure, slow-burnin' hellfire. The devil himself's ecstasy on wax. I demand that John Fogerty stop being some kind of one-flannel-shirt-ownin', own-band-hatin' baggadouche and tell me why he thought this decision was ok? Because clearly he did not have CCR's best interests in mind. But what I do have in its place is the next best thing...the No Alternative compilation album , which might be the first great collection of my generation's preferred method of teen angst. There isn't a single shitty track on that cd, for my money. And on it is Uncle Tupelo's version of "Effigy"...also six minutes of slightly less CCR-ish hellfire. Maybe it's a little more smokier, and possibly more of a generic commodity at its peak, but still a little eerie and unbecoming nonetheless. Like an effigy should be. Uncle Tupelo was at the forefront of some kind of movement called "Alt-Country", and because that label had been thrown around a lot in reference to them, I stayed away from getting further into them than "Effigy". But their members' creative pedigrees collectively after they broke up is ridiculous: Jay Farrar went on to form Son Volt and had some success there, and also teamed up with Ben Gibbard from Death Cab For Cutie to create an entire album based on Jack Kerouac's Big Sur (One Fast Move Or I'm Gone ; Jeff Tweedy and the rest of Uncle Tupelo formed a little group named Wilco, and they're famous. And ya know what I learned today? Tom Fogerty (John's brother and ex-bandmate) died of AIDS-related complications in 1990 (coincidentally, No Alternative was a cd sold to benefit AIDS research, which I did know). And even if he wasn't dead, I doubt CCR would reunite, because John's pretty much a selfish a-hole in my opinion who wrecked the band, probably for not putting "Effigy" on their stupidly-named bullshit Greatest Hits collection. Meanwhile, Uncle Tupelo will also not be reuniting anytime soon, because Tweedy's too cool now for Farrar...Son Volt may have struck first with their minimal commercial success, but Wilco has sold billions of albums since, still remains a viable touring act, and is so badass that they once performed an entire 27-song live set consisting only of covers at their own concert festival. Jeff Tweedy doesn't need you, Jay Farrar (and whoever else may have been in Uncle Tupelo but has since been fired from Wilco)!"Last night I saw the fire spreading to the palace door... silent majority weren't keeping quiet anymore." Lyrics. |
** Image ID #2009874 Unavailable ** Ok, well, I set a goal when I signed up for the "Resurrection Jukebox" , which looks exactly like the requirements for it. Then I amended that goal earlier today when I decided that I no longer felt like just giving up on it. I have resigned myself to the fact that this may not be the most interesting part of the playlist (and I have no idea how I'm even coping with that realization right now  ). I haven't allowed myself to wonder what these entries might look like had I decided to write one of them a day, or maybe two every other day, like what makes sense for most normal people to do in activities like this. I'm grateful that I'm not the only one who waited until the last minute, but this is a ridiculous last-minute low even by my own procrasinatorial standards. I've over the halfway mark though. Thank your good lord of choice I have zero social life and no aspirations anymore for one anytime soon. Of course, perhaps if I did have one I may have planned this all out a little more appropriately.  And I seriously don't have a good story for this song other than you'd probably be surprised that I dig The Hollies and only know of Cilla Black because I'm sorta addicted to that stupid Songpop game on Facebook. But someday, one of you might fall in love me with enough to the point you'll compel me to sing this at you. Not to you, because that's what normal people do and I don't like doing normal people things. And I'll oblige, because this is one of the sweetest, emotionally beautiful songs ever written...although Cilla's version is more upbeat and soulful as opposed to the more sensual Hollies offering. Bodycount (not the Ice-T metal band, but the dead people): Nearly half of Manchester has been in The Hollies at some point, so there's bound to be a headstone or two marking a grave with the inscription "This Is What Happens When There Is No Longer Air To Breathe". And Cilla died back in August of 2015 after a fall...no more air for her either. |
** Image ID #2009874 Unavailable ** Ok...so far all I've learned about trying to write shorter entries is that the problem I have with writing any kind of blog entry is most often my personal attention span. I posted my last entry an hour and fifteen minutes ago...I went downstairs to check for mail (two minutes, three tops), came up, opened Facebook, had one notification and a message from my mom, and boom! It may as well be 2028 now, and instead of looking up Greyhound fares for my next trip back home during Thanksgiving I should be wondering where all the flying cars from The Jetsons are. I've also realized that unless I make these things about five sentences long, they won't all be done by the end of tonight...and I'm giving up Game Four of the World Series (#LGM) to accomplish this, because trying to concentrate on writing while listening to anything else means for me nothing gets done. So anyway, this song..."I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself". I don't have a really funny personal anecdote for it, so this'll have to do instead. It was originally written by Burt Bacharach and Hal David , and has been covered by a gang of recognizable artists (including Dusty Springfield and Dionne Warwick)...although I believe the first time I heard it was on The White Stripes' Elephant. And while I know I've had to have heard plenty of Bacharach compositions all throughout my life, my original impression of him will always be from the movie Austin Powers . And now that I'm thinking about it, I guess I do kinda sorta have a story. My aunt and uncle, years ago, purchased a second home kinda out in the middle of nowhere...a little vacation cottage thing with some land. Nothing big...they'd go up there on the weekends during the summer with their dogs just to get away from the city for awhile. Us brilliant kids called it "The Green House" because, well, it was a green house. And, like the brilliant kids we were, my sister and I had access to it on occasion. It wasn't close enough that we could just run up there whenever we wanted, but still enough to make a weekend out of it. So we'd get a bunch of friends and a ton of booze and get stupid and have fun. Since The Green House was out in the sticks and no one was there all that much during the year, my aunt and uncle didn't get cable or satellite tv service or anything. There was a video store up the road I think, so we'd rent some movies for entertainment when drinking games weren't doing it for us anymore. And Austin Powers was a popular repeat-viewing option at the time. Apparently everyone passed out during it one late Saturday evening- everyone, with the exception of my buddy Verno, who could easily outdrink everyone else. And when you're 25-ish and can outdrink everyone else, you don't always realize what it is you're doing when you're so hammered yet also the last one awake. The old adage always goes "Don't be the first one to pass out at the party."...but it's kinda messed up when you're the last one, because there's no one else to tell you when you're acting upon a bad idea. Verno's girlfriend at the time happened to wake up during one of the Fembot scenes ...and she found him sitting on the floor in front of the tv, half-dazed, totally oblivious to the other people in the room sleeping in chairs or on couches, and he was givin' himself a good ol' once-over. She was startled, because who wouldn't be when they catch someone jerkin' off, and she called his name a few times. He just looked at her blankly, and kept at it like "Whatever." I don't remember how the story, ummm...finished (I know...poor choice of words), because this happened gawd, like, over 15 years ago, and most of the original people present that night have since gone their separate ways. And that, my friends, is, I guess, the story of Verno not really knowing what else to do with himself. Oh crap...the dead people! Forgot about that. Ol' Burt's still kickin' it with the ladies, but Hal passed on a couple of years ago. And the White Stripes are pretty much never, ever, ever getting back together again. Poor Meg White. Everyone used to call her the talentless, ugly one, but then Jack White moved to Nashville and Elvis'd up his hair like some kind of hillbilly Grease cast-off. RIP, Jack White's cooler long hair...Meg, I'll take my coffee with two creams and two sugars, please, and stop giving me a flyer for your bands "No Cover Charge" night at the shitty dive bar you're playing at if you don't want to keep fishin' 'em outta the tip cup. |
** Image ID #2009874 Unavailable ** I'm almost embarrassed to say I once owned this before I really understood what it was, who it was, or its magnitude. For many years between my early 20's and mid 30's, there were two days out of the year on the local calendar a couple of us looked forward to: the spring and fall record shows at one of the local VFW halls. Remember, my early 20's were pretty much pre-internet, and what little internet was available certainly wasn't gonna provide me with even a sliver of the knowledge one gains today with five minutes and a high-speed connection. And what we'd look for at those record shows were all the bootlegs. For anywhere between $5 and $30 you could get a tape or a cd (buyer beware: it might work in your walkman or discman, and it might contain all the songs it says it does, and the person selling it might have showered in the last thirty days...no joke; the shows were held in a newly-built building, yet the stink in the air was palpable). We came across a Pearl Jam bootleg called The Five Musketeers, which was apparently the one every PJ fan had to own. It was cool because, if my memory serves me correctly, it had a few songs Eddie Vedder sang with The Doors, a few b-sides from their early singles ("Yellow Ledbetter"! Live! Only it sounded just like the released version, with applause overdubbed.), and some random shit no one knew what to make of (including a Bob Dylan cover, a Rolling Stones cover, and a super-shitty sounding Van Halen cover sung by Mike McCready). And this..."Hold Your Head Up", which I knew I'd heard before on the local Classic Rock radio station. It was originally put out by a group called Argent (consisting of members of The Zombies, The Kinks, and whose namesake went on to work with Andrew Lloyd freakin' Webber- Google him, for shits and giggles!), and as it turned out, what we were listening to was our first experience with Mother Love Bone .In the blank era of music between the hair bands of the 80's and the grunge explosion of the 90's, that's where you'd find Mother Love Bone. Literally half the glam of David Bowie and Poison, with the charm of Black Sabbath and darker Led Zeppelin cuts...they were poised to be the big thing comin' outta Seattle before big things came outta Seattle. But Andy Wood (the lead singer) OD'd on heroin, and instead we got Temple Of The Dog, Pearl Jam, and a slew of lesser-known acts. MLB's debut EP (Shine) and major-label album (Apple) eventually came out, but Nirvana had already been the game-changer and before anyone knew what was happening supermodels were sashaying down catwalks in flannel and MTV was proclaiming Seattle as the capital city of all the musics. And there we were, once we got our hands on Apple, digging out and dusting off that copy of The Five Musketeers, wondering if- holy fuck, it's gotta be- the same guy from Mother Love Bone. Sho' 'nuff, it was. So, dead singer there, and I'm pretty sure Argent songs only show up in occasional Adam Sandler movies that are advertised as comedies but were never, ever funny, and were also possibly a little racist. "And if it's bad...don't let it get you down, you can take it. Hold your head up <repeated 40 times>...hold your head high!" Lyrics. |
** Image ID #2009874 Unavailable ** Holy crap! Not even two songs in to my ridiculously ambitious idea of writing nine separate blog entries for the "Resurrection Jukebox" today, and already I've deviated from my plan (but hey, at least I decided to have a plan from the get-go, rather than trying to decide all willy-nilly what songs I'd wanna use while staring at a blank text entry box). I was gonna put "Thirty-Three" by the Smashing Pumpkins ( Happy Halloween!! ) as performed by The New Amsterdams up in here...but when I went to grab it off YouTube, it turns out they also covered SP's "Today" also. Jackpot!So here's the rundown...basically, the only original member of the Pumpkins left is singer Billy Corgan (who, coincidentally, is also the only person known to man who doesn't hate Billy Corgan). I'm pretty sure without looking it up that everyone else cut ties with him and is now back to working their first high school dropout jobs (pre-1995), or something. Except the touring keyboardist that died from a drug overdose that initially broke the band up once. He's probably the happiest of the lot, too. And The New Ams are an on-again/off-again side project fronted by Matt Pryor, the lead singer of The Get Up Kids. As far as I know, everyone associated with The New Ams is still alive, although their lineup has always been in a bit of a state of flux, and even though they've released a good number of albums I think they've all had different musicians. Fun Fact: Remember MySpace? Believe it or not, they put out a tribute cd to the Smashing Pumpkins (which is where The New Amsterdams' cover of "Thirty-Three" came from, and I still have it somewhere, even though I will swear until the day I die I never really had a MySpace profile). I'm also pretty sure I didn't actually pay for it...it must've come included with a magazine, I'm thinking, because it didn't come in a jewel case. I didn't borrow it from anyone, and I didn't steal it, but I don't know how else I could've come across it. Whatever. Great tune, and I'm glad I found it. |
** Image ID #2009874 Unavailable ** What's up you guys? Here we are, Day 15 of the "Resurrection Jukebox" , and I've written six entries for it so far. I declared myself all but out participating and completing it this year, because I have a pretty good idea about how I work and how occasionally I'm prone to giving up. And then I came across Cinn  's newsfeed post this afternoon ("Note: I've added a new entry to my book, [Link To I...") and she started today even further behind than I've fallen...so ok, I can do this. I've never posted nine blog entries in one day before...but the plus side to that is that they'll all be a lot shorter, because I'm only talking about my Resurrection Jukebox picks. Hopefully, this'll go by quickly. So without further ado... Shame on you if you don't get this reference. I love Rage Against The Machine. I've probably embedded any one of their videos at least ten times...maybe 20 (which isn't a lot and is probably a low estimate, considering I've written almost 1,100 blog entries in my non-paying blogging career), and in each instance I've probably carried on longer than necessary about that one time my boy DMFM and I drove to Pittsburgh from Buffalo to see them live with the Wu-Tang Clan (seriously, an amazing concert), got lost on the way home, stopped in the middle of the night at an Eat'n Park (and had easily one of the best late-nite dining experiences ev-arrrhhh), blew out the brakes on my Chevy Beretta halfway home, and still managed to not die through all of it (which is important, because Dave had a dream the night before that ended up with us in an ambulance, freaking him the fuck out). And we stopped on the way to the Starlake Amphitheater at some shady small-time mechanic's garage to double-check our directions, where we were promptly greeted by a disgruntled man covered in a day's worth's work's dirt flashing a hook for a hand. I'm pretty sure Dave exclaimed "Zoinks!" and when he started running back toward the car, the sidewalk under him bunched up like a cheap rug and there was that noise that Shaggy and Scooby-Doo always make when they start running but can't get goin' fast enough. And those are just the major points of that particular day...which have nothing to do with this song. There are a few decent RATM covers floatin' around, mostly thanks to the b-sides of some of their early singles and the quasi-crappy covers album/contractual obligation they released before first breaking up, Renegades (and seriously, if this might be the one time I ever wish death on someone, I'm going big and saying the only reason I'd ever want Bob Dylan to die is so I can post the Rage cover of "Maggie's Farm" in a Soundtracker Challenge, because that song is a beast). The biggest problem I have with Renegades today, for the purpose of the Rez Juke, is that many of the artists represented in the songs I like most on that album are still alive (even if Rage itself has been pretty much defunct for like a decade, give or take). That's why I'm going with their version of the MC5's "Kick Out The Jams"...it's not a bad song, even though Zack de la Rocha pretty much fronts this like he's had too many beers on karaoke night and swears he knows the words by heart. It has heart, which any good interesting karaoke singer should possess. And I'm only posting this particular live cut because it's paired with one of my all-time favorite RATM blasts, "Bulls On Parade" (which was coincidentally the test cd I used whenever I had a new stereo or speakers put in that same Beretta...or any other car since Evil Empire came out, for that matter). |
  "Haunted Halloween - Almost everyone loves a haunted tale. Write about a haunted place, could be fact or fiction."'Sup y'all? Before I attempt today's prompts, I just gotta say...damn. I've been sick as hell for the last two weeks. I tried powering through it...it started with a simple sore throat, and before I knew it it was a full-blown chest cold of miserable proportions. And I used to never really get sick often; now, maybe once a year or so...but it's not even winter yet, so this is bullshit as far as I'm concerned. And it couldn't happen at a more inopportune time...I was recently prescribed another different antidepressant and had been weaning off my last one, so I wasn't sure if I was just having withdrawal symptoms, or interactions between the new one and other stuff I'm on, or what. On top of that, once I finally broke down and decided to go with the "yep, you're sick as fuck" self-diagnosis, I had to be careful about how to treat myself...I bought a bottle of cough syrup because I'm ridiculous with the hacking, and the pharmacist was all like "I know this is all gonna sound super scary, but you need to be careful about Serotonin Syndrome , even though it's rare and you could die". Basically, some of the meds I take will increase the Serotonin in my system, but cold and flu remedies will amplify that also...so on top of my sleep pattern getting all jacked up again because of everything, there's been that to worry about as well. Good times. I better not get sick again until at least 2017 now. I think the worst is over...I was a hot mess Wednesday night into Thursday, but today I feel better than I have since this whole thing started, so I must be turning the corner with it. Anyway, that's the personal update, and enough of me carrying on about that. I've got three prompts to whine for and about, so I should probably get started...two of the three include my favorite form of non-blogging, some variation of "Write a poem or story...". Ugh. I'll say this again for the thousandth time: If I wanted to write a poem or a short story (or a novel for that matter, because my blog entries are probably just as long as short fiction chapter I guess), I would write a poem or a short story. I don't know why this prompt concept bothers me so much, or why I compartmentalize them the way I do, but my blog = my rules and the author has spoken. Cool...so now we've figured out between the rest of the week's prompts and today's that I'm not in the percentage counted as "Almost everyone...". Glad we could clear that up before I start tearing apart some place I've never been to while spouting truths, half-truths, and outright lies . Now, I've done a decent amount of travelling I suppose...average, I think. I'm by no means some kinda brotha who jets out somewhere on a whim, but I've seen some places. And I'm certainly not all touristy once I get to wherever it is I'm goin'...yeah, there are some cities where you have to visit certain attractions or eat at certain restaurants, but I'm not gonna hop on a plane or a bus like I'm about to run down the aisle on The Price Is Right because I need to let everyone who sees me know I'm 'bout dat Eat'n Park life once I hit Pennsylvania, or whatever. Anyway, I don't know if I'll ever get over there, but one place I'd like to visit because it may or may not be haunted is London, England. I know there are lots of WDCers there, and it's always been a fascinating place to me for reasons I don't even know if I necessarily know or can explain...but it's clearly inhabitable, so it can't be all bad (full disclosure: I'm not one of those ghost chasers, or whatever those people are called...you know you're friends with at least one of 'em, those people who feel like they need to visit every haunted landmark they've ever heard of because it's cool or spooky or whatever. Weirdos. ). I'm not sure why I think London might be haunted; maybe it has something to do with television. Follow me on this, because I might not make much sense. See, my earliest recollection of London might come from old London Fog commercials. Fog is gloomy, London must be foggy since a company is named for it or something, and I've seen enough episodes of Scooby-Doo to know that all the creepy monsters and villains operate under heavily fogged atmospheric conditions. Therefore, my childlike associative mind has deduced that London is probably haunted. But let's look further at this, because I don't feel complete unless I've over-analyzed something to the point of ridiculousness. Since I mentioned television as being a reason London might be haunted, have you ever actually watched tv shows that are based in or around the area? I don't mean a random episode while you were channel surfing that afternoon you stayed home sick from work and didn't realize you were watching BBC programs on PBS...I'm talkin' about watching enough to know characters and get caught up in plots and shit. I'm certainly no expert on this subject, but what is it about the lighting used on the sets of these shows that trump up the gloom factor by at least 50%? Even in outdoor shots on shows like Monty Python's Flying Circus, when it's damn near obvious the sun is supposed to be out, the skies still look overcast. Does British television live in a state of perpetual cloudiness? Indoor scenes on sitcoms, no matter what time of day they're implying, all look like they're shot during the pitch blackness of a nuclear holocaust. It's...unsettling, almost. Again, my childlike associative mind thinks if your entertainment isn't providing me visually with laughter and ease of mind, then you're trying to scare the bejeebus outta me. And I don't like it when television plays games with my emotions like that. Ok, so all that being taken into consideration, I believe that while London is certainly an extraordinary place, within it resides probably some kind of mystical creepology designed to freak out people who go to places specifically looking to be freaked out (again, weirdos). Does that mean it's truly haunted? I dunno, man...I'm not a scientist or whatever kinda person makes study with perceptions of ghosts and apparitions and shit. But I'll tell you this...if you and I somehow wind up vacationing together in the UK, and you really wanna be spooked, I'll make sure to rattle shit when you're not lookin', and knock on walls while you're sleepin', and steal your chips when you turn your head. If that's what it's all about for you, I wanna make sure you're gettin' your money's worth.   "Are you easily tricked? Do you fall for things? An example would be fun if you have one."I...I would like to think I am not easily tricked. I was a gullible little kid at times in my younger days; perhaps no more gullible than most, because I think that's something most kids go through. But now, as a child trapped in adulthood, I'm definitely more skeptical than maybe is healthy for many. I'm not sayin' I don't believe anything, but I'll need to see something at least a couple times and from trusted sources before I'll commit to its validity. Like all this "fake news" people have been talking about every once in awhile, and how they can't stand it. Look, I get it. It can be frustrating. But you need to consider how you're coming across all this tabloid-esque journalism in the first place. A lot of people get their news from social media, confusing their Facebook newsfeed for actual news. You might follow your local tv stations for news and weather updates, but they're not the ones dropping the latest celebrity death hoaxes or questionable cancer remedies made of burnt tires and eyes of newt on you. The problem with getting your news mainly from Facebook and Twitter is the general shadiness of the internet itself. You might've liked or fanned or followed something six years ago, and without you even knowing it that site might've been some kind of satire all along...or maybe it has morphed due to a change in ownership's hands into some kind of bonkers internet form of the garbage tabloid rags sold at supermarket checkouts (Man Discovers Wife Is An Alien! President Clinton Will Die In Two Weeks! Lose 36lbs In A Month Eating Only Skittles!). It get aggravating at times, because oh my god I have to think and wonder if these stories are true or not. And what can be just as aggravating at times are seemingly intelligent people falling for these rouses. Like I always say...common sense isn't very common anymore. If all you see is a headline, but fail to connect it to the source, you're gonna look like an idiot when you share that article about Betty White dyeing . Besides, all the really important news will be covered by every legit news outlet imaginable. And everyone on Facebook has at least three friends who think they must be some people's only source of news, and will share every god damn article of various importance just in case you didn't see or hear about it anywhere else. I don't understand that...Johnny CNN isn't doing anyone any favors by clogging up the newsfeed with the same ol' same ol', gettin' all up in the way of potentially necessary memes I may need to see. Gawd. Some people's kids, and their social networks, I swear. And they never taught us a class on how to put up with all of it when I went to school. But that's all besides the point. Not sure if what you've seen on your favorite internet poison news source is legit, or if it's just a rumor disguised as a means of generating ad revenue? Do your own fact-checking. Hit up Snopes and then draw your conclusions. Or, for the love of all that is good and pure, just stop fucking believing everything you see, read, and hear until you can verify its certainty with your own five senses, if you can't use your god damn brain to decide right from wrong and need all of humanity spelled out for you in the rightest of fashions because why would someone post a lie on the internet if people read that stuff?? So no, I don't get easily tricked. And if I ever did, you probably wouldn't know it...because I don't wanna look like that Chicken Little, sky's fallin' ass by opening my mouth and letting all the dumb fall out.   "Hello my Pretty Pretend Witches and Warlocks....if you could cast one spell, just one, would you use it for something good for everyone or would you use it just yourself on this Hallow's eve affectionately called Mischief Night? Write a poem or a story with a mischievous twist."I don't really feel like coming up with an actual poem or story or whatever, but I will share with you something sorta mischievous from around 4am-ish this morning (or the time I woke up and couldn't fall back asleep so I thought that visiting the internet would be a good idea, given all the many pills I've ingested over the last few days ).One thing you must know about me, and it has been written in one of these similar spaces before, is that I love Chicken McNuggets from McDonald's. Save all your happy hippy horseshit about how bad fast food is, and how terrible a corporation like McDonald's is, and it's probably not real chicken, and oh the humanity and all that; I really don't care. I don't get to eat it often, and my hunger and nutrition (or lack thereof) is more important at any given time than a chicken's body part's feelings (and no, I'm not a total monster, because I do have some compassion and hate to see animals suffering, but I'm not gonna alter my cravings so one chicken/cow/pig/etc. can live another day and give up its tasty morsels to someone else...fuck that). So in the haze of my sleep sedatives and cough drops, I came across a USA Today article about a supplier of McDonald's chicken pleading guilty to animal cruelty charges. Yes, this is sad and unfortunate...but is it really surprising? If this shocks you, please, I'll hold up the rock you crawled out from under so you can go back there and pretend we're still in medieval times (where I'm sure they did much worse things to animals...and humans, as well, and under some sort of guise of legality too). Anyway, because I sometimes think I'm hilarious when I'm under the influence of properly taken yet improperly functioning prescription medications, I chose to exercise my creativity on the original Facebook post's comment section for the article itself.  #truth Look, it's been a long time since I've seen an actual living chicken up close and in person. And I'm not naive enough to think that maybe there really isn't some beak or cluck in the McNuggets (or chickie nuggies, as I like to call them sometimes when I'm feeling playful and refuse to grow up). But let's just say for the sake of estimation purposes that it takes the meat of approximately one chicken to get a 10-piece order (I'm sure I could probably Google the exact average, but in the order of time and laziness, it's just not prudent enough for my concerns at the moment). And I know McD's sells them in a variety of orders, but let's just round up and down to use 10pc as our reference point. Then, let's assume each McDonald's sells, on average, 100 orders a day, over good lord I don't even know how many McDonald's there are...5000? 7000? Anyway, that's a metric fuckton of math I'm not even tryna get into, but that's a whole lotta daily chickens meeting an untimely death for the greater good. Surely they can't all be happy chickens under those conditions. A prison's death row population isn't the peachiest place on Earth either, but at least the fowl are fulfilling a purpose. Normally I fall on the side against the giant evil corporation...but in this instance, instead of decrying the for-profit food service industry as the inhumane animal killers they are, let's give thanks and praise to the fearless chickens that go on to do greater things with their time on this planet once Farmer Joe cuts off its head . And if I believed in the power of witches and warlocks and all that, I'd get 'em to cast me a spell that presented me with at least one 10pc a week, with extra Hot Mustard dipping sauce tubs (have they brought that flavor back yet? that's how long it's been for me I think), and they'd taste as great as always, but the chickens sacrificed would feel no pain. That way, I wouldn't feel guilty about eating them. Not that I ever did feel guilty in the first place for feeding myself, but in the event I ever have a change of heart (unlikely), it'd be good to know that black magic can ease the sins of mortal humans. ** Image ID #2010042 Unavailable ** I'd honestly never really listened to 7 Year Bitch before; not until a trip to the Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame in Cleveland maybe five years ago. 7YB was a Seattle band during the whole grunge era, but I don't remember them. Some display on the 90's at the Hall Of Fame though was playing a clip of them, so I watched it a few times and I liked how they sounded. When I got home, I bought their three albums from iTunes (mainly because I couldn't remember the lyrics to the one song I heard, and an entire catalog for three albums? Jackpot!). Money well spent. I was originally gonna use the song "M.I.A." off the ¡Viva Zapata! album- both were inspired by the rape and murder of Mia Zapata, the lead singer of The Gits (the group 7YB opened for as their first concert)- but I couldn't find a good cover of it. However, on the same album, 7YB performed a cover of The Jim Carroll Band's "It's Too Late" (and holy movie/tv star nirvana in that clip!). And the dead people...Jim Carroll died in 2009 of a heart attack, and 7 Year Bitch guitarist Stefanie Sargent passed away in 1992 from the very rock-n-roll-ish choking on her own puke after a night of drinking and using heroin.   Like I said up in the first segment today, I know there are some people from different parts of Europe that read this once in awhile. Give yourselves a shout-out...where are you from?  Personally, I'm not crazy about science...but I'm a sucker for random knowledge, and I'll generally read almost anything that includes phrases like "you didn't know you needed to hear" .  Did you guys hear?? ~Minja~  has threatened promised offered to marry all of us for donating an auction package to her "Invalid Item" . Pro Tip: If you ever want to ensure my participation in and/or a donation to your project, be Minja. And if you can't be Minja, offer me your hand in marriage. And seriously, as soon as I finish this up I'm actually gonna put together something to offer for this, because it seems like everyone's either participating in NaNoWriMo or sponsoring someone in it, and I'm...not. If I sponsored everyone I really wanted to sponsor, I'd have no GPs left for anything else, and it wouldn't seem fair if I only sponsored certain people and not others...so yay! Win-win situation here. Best I can do...but what's that say about the WDC community in general when it feels like the majority of everyone is either involved directly in one particular event, or is supporting a participant? It's almost like when Gaby ~ Keeper Of The Realm  runs her Game Of Thrones mega-activity. You can't hide from it; it's everywhere! Anyway, go to Minja's auction and spread the love around...maybe if you're lucky you'll get hitched too score yourself a sweet prize pack. And finally, Wednesday was another edition of the Republicans gathering in a public forum to debate issues mostly older, rich white dudes (plus an old rich lady, a black dude with flecks of white in his hair, and some folks I wouldn't put in charge of a girl scout bake sale, let alone a country) pretend to know what they're talking about until it becomes okay to openly start snipin' at each other. Under the best of circumstances nothing is ever settled in these debates, and having 15 of these people in one sitting definitely isn't ideal, but the GOP seems to think this is the best way to lose an election in 2016, so who am I to say anything (hint: I'mma say it anyway)? And with that comes another series of tweets collected from folks funnier than most of us during the event. All you really need to know about the Republican party can usually be learned from something like this, and as long as there are still people around to mock politicians, then I'd say the country is heading in the right direction regardless of who sits in the White House. And what was I doing during the debate? Watching baseball  . One day I'll actually pay real-time attention to one of these shitshows, just to see if they're worth the anti-hype...not that my viewing will make any difference, but it might be fun to live tweet one sometime. Alright y'all...time to get outta here while it's still kinda sorta daylight out. Not that I'm goin' anywhere...it's more of an expression and all. Besides, Game Three of the World Series starts in less than two hours, so I should probably attend to everything else I feel like doing today just for the purpose of not doing anything but falling asleep in front of a baseball game tonight. And for the record, the last time the Mets won the World Series back in '86, they were also down two games to none and had lost Game Two by six runs (just like Wednesday). Given that, I like the odds (and #LGM). Hope you all have great rest of your Friday! Peace, find somebody to love, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! |
 Log in to Leave Feedback |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
Thank you!
