• Jesse, I’m going to need you to give some of those fat stacks to me. (Also, I miss you, Breaking Bad!)

    I’ve been on a new music tear lately. “New” in that phrase having two meanings because some of the music I’ve been listening to and, in many cases, committed to actually acquiring is really new while some of the music is only new to me.

    But this foray into new music has made me take stock of some of my obsessions of old. And made me focus on what I’ve lost thanks to the technology “upgrades” I’ve lived through. Look, I’m a giant fan of all things tech, but it makes me physically ill to think of all my vinyl I sold years ago to Plan 9 to “upgrade” to newer technologies. And now I gotta hear all this shit about how you can’t listen to anything but vinyl if you give a tiny rat’s ass about sound quality. Well thank you, Cap’n. Throwback. I guess I’ll just go out and drop some fat stacks to REBUY all that quality music I sold because I’m a giant dumbass. There are countless albums that haunt me because I didn’t make nearly enough of a profit to justify selling them. One of the very very many that comes to mind is the limited edition copy of Bring on the Night that I played until I thought I’d wear the poor album out. “I Burn for You” is still one of those songs that will always make me stop whatever I’m doing and just fully jump right in. Oops, there I go again with The Police obsession. I’ve talked about that before, right? If not, that’s a post I should write soon. But sure, I get it. You didn’t have the obsession that I did with The Police and Sting. I lost the Sting love for a while there. He became such a giant prick with the who’s-more-awesome-than-I, and the constant spouting about tantric sex which made all of us just want to say, “Woohoo, for you, I guess, Mr. I’m-so-sure-my-sex-life-is-better-than-yours, but maybe you could grab a giant clue and recognize that there are a lot of us that are feeling pretty damn happy ourselves yet don’t feel that we need to crow about things to prove it. So, shut it, you. But my love of Sting has returned (dude’s got mad skillz, yo) since he’s stifled the uptight prick bit he’s been sporting for far too long.

    January 30, 2015 • Music • Views: 17

  • Brain, why are we always at odds??? Focus. Please!

    So, I’m working busily a couple of days ago. Busily working. Busy busy busy. Productive as all get out. And I hear someone walking by saying, “When a problem comes along…” And my brain got very very excited and immediately supplied me with “…you must whip it” and insisted that my mouth produce it. So I ran with it. Come on, it’s Devo. And the two of us (plus my brain shouting in my poor, sad head) ran with a couple of the lines of the song, and the normal person returned to his day. I, however, saddled with a brain that poses jauntily beside the word neurotic in the dictionary, spent a few minutes running through the song in its entirety in my head complete with the video visual from back in the day. Which was fun. And nostalgic. Until my brain thought I was on board for three more rounds of this. Which. NO! So, I struggled mightily to return to a place of productivity.

    And then, just as I thought I was getting it back together, my brain went to the place of crazy. The inner dialogue that I was stuck listening to [held hostage listening to, I should say] as I tapped my foot impatiently trying to get back to work, I mean, SERIOUSLY, BRAIN!!! went something like this:

    Weren’t those adorable idiots wearing SLEEVELESS black turtles with Lego-licious, round towers on their heads? Those dudes sure brought the crazy. Wait, Whip It. Wasn’t there another song called Whip It? That’s not possible, right? How did that go? 

    Wanna see you whip it (not right, btw — just looked that up),
    Sure could treat you right
    Give me just a minute
    Of your time tonight

    Oh you sweet, stupid fool! That’s Let It Whip by the Dazz Band. Wait, which one was in Pitch Perfect? Oh right, Let It Whip. Glad I remembered that. Hilarious. Love those Trebles.

    And then, people, my mind went on a tangent so bizarre that I can’t begin to remember where it began or ended because every weird step of that trail was totally unrelated to the piece that preceded and the piece that followed. The trail, she is cold. My brain, she is hopeless.

    January 23, 2015 • I have issues • Views: 37

  • Public bathroom stalls are in need of a design upgrade. Let’s make them bigger. Who’s with me?

    Look, I get that you can’t have stall doors open outward in public bathrooms. At least most of them need to open inward so people don’t get cold-cocked left and right when all they’re trying to do is attend to an errand. You have a bunch of stall doors opening out instead of in, and there’s a bunch of bodies laying there on the tile (EW!!!!) watching little blue birdies twirling ’round their noggin while they try to return their head contents to an unscrambled state. You get your next rush of incoming all stumbling over the inert forms lying here and there. It’s complete madness. I get it. But don’t you think the designers could maybe add an extra foot (or even two), so I don’t have to seriously consider stepping up onto the toilet seat in order to swing the door inward and exit the stall? I’m a germophobe, so I’m already dealing with this  specialty center of germ and bacteria origination and cultivation. In addition to that hurdle, I’m battling a small case of claustrophobia just trying to figure out how to navigate out of the stall. It’s not good is what I’m saying.

    January 19, 2015 • Health, I have issues • Views: 47

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