Day 7

Aug. 17th, 2010 02:26 am
rigger: (Default)
Day 01. Your favorite song - Peg, Steely Dan
Day 02. Your least favorite song - Takin' Care of Business, Bachman Turner Overdrive
Day 03. A song that makes you happy - Donkey Rhubarb, Aphex Twin
Day 04. A song that makes you sad - This Woman's Work, Kate Bush
Day 05. A song that reminds you of someone - Flakes, Frank Zappa
Day 06. A song that reminds you of somewhere - City of the Angels, Wang Chung
Day 07. A song that reminds you of a certain event - Stick Your Neck Out, Dot 3
Day 08. A song that you know all the words to
Day 09. A song that you can dance to
Day 10. A song that makes you fall asleep
Day 11. A song from your favorite band
Day 12. A song from a band you hate
Day 13. A song that is a guilty pleasure
Day 14. A song that no one would expect you to love
Day 15. A song that describes you
Day 16. A song that you used to love but now hate
Day 17. A song that you hear often on the radio
Day 18. A song that you wish you heard on the radio
Day 19. A song from your favorite album
Day 20. A song that you listen to when you’re angry
Day 21. A song that you listen to when you’re happy
Day 22. A song that you listen to when you’re sad
Day 23. A song that you want to play at your wedding
Day 24. A song that you want to play at your funeral
Day 25. A song that makes you laugh
Day 26. A song that you can play on an instrument
Day 27. A song that you wish you could play
Day 28. A song that makes you feel guilty
Day 29. A song from your childhood
Day 30. Your favorite song at this time last year

Oooo, really opening up here.

Everyone my age who grew up in San José claims they were there when The Laundry Works closed, but really, I was there. In fact, we were the first ones there; Jeff and I showed up several hours early, the first and third nights, and chatted with the waiters because we weren't old enough for the bar. We had no idea, but The Laundry Works had become a Thing, and we were bearing witness to an Event.

Jeff and I had a band, but we were too young, too inexperienced, and too crap to even seriously audition at The Laundry Works. By the time we got our musical shit together, the scene was over, and we had other problems. And we hated the Cactus Club, which was about the only place left to play.

We joined a fledgling band with no name, and auditioned for Muzzie's, which turned out to be a complete waste of time. Anyone could play Muzzie's. Seriously, they had a hobo open-mic night. They just wanted to see if we'd show up.

When he asked, we told the booker that our band was called Evil Dead Part 2, because we were retarded and thought that was funny. Then we drank two pitchers of beer, changed our minds, and waved the booker back over to our table.

"We just voted on a new band name," we told him, snickering behind our hands.

He glared at us, lifted his clipboard, and scribbled out our old, now stupid, name. Then he looked at us sadly.

"We changed it to Zombie Butt Fucks," we said. Alcohol makes us pretty.

"I'm not going to say that," he said. "How about ZBF?"

"ZBF! Yes! Perfect!" we cried. "Another pitcher please!"

Several, several beers later, we told him that we'd changed the band name again— this time, to The Trouser Pilots— but he announced us as ZBF anyway. And suddenly we were on.

Do I need to tell you how hard we sucked? Do I need to tell you how embarrassing this whole episode was? Every musician is his own worst critic, but holy shit, we sucked on it. Even if you measured us with The Shitty South Bay Band yardstick, we sucked. I should have stopped playing, held my bass out for the audience to see, screamed "What is this? Get it off me!" in horror, thrown it down, and run from the stage crying, just so we could claim it was performance art. We were outplayed by a band called The Skidmarks that night. The Skidmarks, dude.

The next day Chris, our guitarist, quit. Then he started playing horns for Dot 3, who we liked a lot, so we couldn't fault him. Dot 3 was rad. We loved Oingo Boingo and Red Hot Chili Peppers, so we liked Dot 3, even though their bassist looked like a fuzzy smurf.

This is the closest I ever got to being a rock star. Oh, and fuck I'm old.



Runner-Up: All Dead, Frontier Fuckin' Wives, for the same exact Laundry Works reason. (I was friends with Scott Long, but intimidated by the rest of the band, who I thought hated me. This is obviously not name-dropping, because you just said, "Scott who?")

Day 6

Aug. 16th, 2010 02:30 am
rigger: (Default)
Day 01. Your favorite song - Peg, Steely Dan
Day 02. Your least favorite song - Takin' Care of Business, Bachman Turner Overdrive
Day 03. A song that makes you happy - Donkey Rhubarb, Aphex Twin
Day 04. A song that makes you sad - This Woman's Work, Kate Bush
Day 05. A song that reminds you of someone - Flakes, Frank Zappa
Day 06. A song that reminds you of somewhere - City of the Angels, Wang Chung
Day 07. A song that reminds you of a certain event
Day 08. A song that you know all the words to
Day 09. A song that you can dance to
Day 10. A song that makes you fall asleep
Day 11. A song from your favorite band
Day 12. A song from a band you hate
Day 13. A song that is a guilty pleasure
Day 14. A song that no one would expect you to love
Day 15. A song that describes you
Day 16. A song that you used to love but now hate
Day 17. A song that you hear often on the radio
Day 18. A song that you wish you heard on the radio
Day 19. A song from your favorite album
Day 20. A song that you listen to when you’re angry
Day 21. A song that you listen to when you’re happy
Day 22. A song that you listen to when you’re sad
Day 23. A song that you want to play at your wedding
Day 24. A song that you want to play at your funeral
Day 25. A song that makes you laugh
Day 26. A song that you can play on an instrument
Day 27. A song that you wish you could play
Day 28. A song that makes you feel guilty
Day 29. A song from your childhood
Day 30. Your favorite song at this time last year

My high school friends and I, we crashed parties. We weren't bad kids; we just needed distraction. To a teenager, south San José is a dumb, sleepy suburb, and after 9pm, there weren't nothin' to do. So we crashed parties. Mainly we crossed the highway into Monte Sereno and Los Gatos, where the rich kids lived and were ignored by their parents. I drank a lot in high school.

After a party in Saratoga got broken up by police, Andrew and I found ourselves in the cramped back seats of a Porsche with two wealthy, alienated, Less Than Zero type guys from Los Gatos up in front. We had never met them, had no idea who they were. I never got their names. It didn't come up.

They got us really stoned, parked away from the street lamps, by the pallets and dumpsters behind the Alpha Beta grocery on Harwood. Really, really stoned. Like, cripple stoned. I was completely non-functional. It wasn't After School Special awkward or anything like that; we put up no resistance, took the bong gladly, knew what hopeless clichés we were. Somehow, though, what should have made us giggling comrades, instead pushed us further apart, into our dark leather corners of the car. We weren't the laughing kind of stoned. We were the staring, empty-inside kind. The driver started up the engine and drove us up the hill, into the mountains, fast.

No one talked. It wouldn't have been right. Each of us was alone with what he had going on. School was ending. Friendships were dissolving. Our families were coming apart. Andrew's older brother had long ago run off and vanished. One of mine had already died. A few months ago, Andrew's father drunkenly announced his layoff and left for Mexico. By May, my parents would lose our house in bankruptcy and tell me that I was on my own. In two more months, Andrew was going to gash the hell out of his wrists and arms with an X-Acto knife, soaking the hall bathroom of his mother's house with, as she put it, "All that blood. All that goddamn blood."

Instead of talking, we listened to the soundtrack to To Live And Die In L.A. at tooth-rattling volume, and watched the ghost-white trees blur past us. It's admittedly a dated soundtrack to a film that has not aged well, no, not at all. But it was ideal for that night drive through the Los Gatos mountains, because it was the perfect, sharp-angled embodiment of the smoked glass and coke mirror 80s, and that decade's strangely detached, self-annihilating intensity.

I don't mean to be overly dramatic. We were semi-affluent, destructive white kids, stoned and speeding through Los Gatos backroads. Andrew survived, although we grew apart after that. But kids feel shit more desperately. They're also afraid that they'll live forever. It accounts for a lot.



Runner-Up: Marrakesh, Morris Pert, which reminds me of Interstate 5 at sunrise.

Day 5

Aug. 14th, 2010 04:35 pm
rigger: (Default)
Day 01. Your favorite song - Peg, Steely Dan
Day 02. Your least favorite song - Takin' Care of Business, Bachman Turner Overdrive
Day 03. A song that makes you happy - Donkey Rhubarb, Aphex Twin
Day 04. A song that makes you sad - This Woman's Work, Kate Bush
Day 05. A song that reminds you of someone - Flakes, Frank Zappa
Day 06. A song that reminds you of somewhere
Day 07. A song that reminds you of a certain event
Day 08. A song that you know all the words to
Day 09. A song that you can dance to
Day 10. A song that makes you fall asleep
Day 11. A song from your favorite band
Day 12. A song from a band you hate
Day 13. A song that is a guilty pleasure
Day 14. A song that no one would expect you to love
Day 15. A song that describes you
Day 16. A song that you used to love but now hate
Day 17. A song that you hear often on the radio
Day 18. A song that you wish you heard on the radio
Day 19. A song from your favorite album
Day 20. A song that you listen to when you’re angry
Day 21. A song that you listen to when you’re happy
Day 22. A song that you listen to when you’re sad
Day 23. A song that you want to play at your wedding
Day 24. A song that you want to play at your funeral
Day 25. A song that makes you laugh
Day 26. A song that you can play on an instrument
Day 27. A song that you wish you could play
Day 28. A song that makes you feel guilty
Day 29. A song from your childhood
Day 30. Your favorite song at this time last year


He sort of glomped onto me in the seventh grade. I had isolated myself from all my regular friends by going to a different junior high school, so I thought, "Fuck it, yeah, I'll be your friend. What's your name? Bill? Hi."

Bill filled my days with high weirdness. And he introduced me to bagels.

"What's a bagel?" I said.

He looked at me, surprised. "You've never had a bagel?"

"Never heard of 'em."

He shook his head. "Man, you're killing me." So I had my first bagel. Split and fried, face down in butter, and then smeared with cream cheese. I loved it.

That's nice. I should remember the nice things too.

He was my straightfaced Dr. Demento, introducing me to all sorts of music that I would not have otherwise heard at the time. Zappa, Brand X, prog bootlegs like Awed Man Out, weird Beatles outtakes. He'd show up at my door, bouncing with excitement. "Man, you've got to hear this Zappa song called Flakes. It's so true." Then he'd give me a tape. He was always recording music for me.

Also nice.

None of us knew what to do with Bill. His parents tried grounding him, yelling at him, rewarding good behavior and ignoring the bad, counselors, the whole lot. Nothing got through to him. He just did what he wanted, and what he wanted to do was usually idiotic and destructive.

I tried to help. My warnings became such a predictable refrain that he waved them off before I even opened my mouth.

"I know, I know," he said. "I shouldn't do this. I get it. But watch this." And then he always did something stupid, like hurl his mother's high-carbon steel knives at the linoleum floor, trying to get them to stick, like a circus knife-thrower. He gathered them up to do it again, over and over, until the slashed floor peeled up like birds' tongues.

"Oh shit," he said.

"You think so?" I said.

"Naw, I don't care about the floor. It's a rental. But the knives. Look at them. All the tips are bent. We have to fix them."

I moaned, and we went out to the garage workbench, where he tried to hammer the knife tips straight again. But high-carbon steel is brittle, and all the tips snapped off. Every one of them. So Bill wrapped the knives in an apron and buried them in the garbage can in the driveway. Problem solved! Except that his mother found the sudden disappearance of every knife in the house dismaying, especially in light of her son's standard erratic behavior.

It was things like this that made me feel positively grounded about myself. So I guess that's another nice thing.

One time, I went over to his house and found Leonard, their lodger, installing a lock on his back room door.

"Hey, where's Bill?" I said.

Leonard turned on me, sweating and furious. "You tell that little fucking thief," he growled, "to stay the fuck out of my shit." He rattled the doorknob to make sure the lock worked, stepped into his room, and slammed the door behind him.

Okay, then.

Another time, Bill beat another boy unconscious. Walking home from school, Bill just leapt on him, arms flailing, screaming obscenities, until the kid fell face down into some bushes and didn't get up. As we walked away, I kept looking back over my shoulder. A crowd of children formed around the boy. He still wasn't moving.

"Why the hell did you do that?" I hissed.

"Because I hate him."

"Who was it?"

"I don't know," Bill said calmly. "Hey, want an ice cream sandwich? All we have left are vanilla."

Bill was epileptic. I didn't know if it genuinely affected his behavior, or if he just counted on it to excuse the things that he did. I do know that he used it to manipulate his mother's guilt, since he knew that she had taken drugs during her pregnancy and blamed herself for his illness. After he knocked out that kid, though, everything changed. Bill had to go. His mother couldn't deal with him anymore, so she sent him to Missoula to live with his father, where Bill might lead a more structured life. I didn't see him again until after high school, when he joined the National Guard and came down to stay with his mother before being deployed. He showed up at my deli job and waited around until I clocked out for lunch.

"Hey, man. I got you a game," he said, handing me a sleeve with a floppy disk in it. "I heard you like computers. I don't know anything about them. Here."

I took the disk, knowing that it was shoplifted. The game would eventually become a favorite in a few years, when I finally purchased my first computer, but anyway, it was a nice gesture. We talked a while, catching up. I asked him to tell me about the National Guard while I ate my sandwich.

"Man, I don't know. I just joined because I couldn't take Missoula anymore. Don't want to live there. I want to stay in California, so I'm ignoring my orders."

"You got deployed?" I asked.

"Yeah, but I'm ignoring it."

"So... you're AWOL," I said.

"Yeah, pretty much."

I marveled at this. "What are you doing, Bill?"

"Mom says if I'm not doing the Guard thing, then I should get a job. But fuck that," he said.

"So... what... are... you... doing?" I said. I couldn't believe that he'd joined the National Guard just to get a ride back to California. I couldn't believe that he'd gone AWOL. I couldn't believe that I had changed so much, and that he hadn't changed at all. He was the exact same Bill from junior high, still doing whatever he wanted, not caring where his idiot stunts were getting him, and how they affected everyone else.

"I don't know. Most days I just get on the bus first thing and ride it all day. I don't even transfer. I just stay on the same bus and ride it, back and forth, from one end of the route to the other. Then I come home when my mom's asleep."

I stared at him, with my mouth full of half-chewed sandwich.

"Sometimes I bring a book," he said.

I recently found Bill on Facebook. He married, had kids, and divorced. I hope he's doing okay, but I'm not going to ask him.



Runner-Up: Eardrum Buzz, Wire

Day 4

Aug. 13th, 2010 01:54 am
rigger: (Default)
Day 01. Your favorite song - Peg, Steely Dan
Day 02. Your least favorite song - Takin' Care of Business, Bachman Turner Overdrive
Day 03. A song that makes you happy - Donkey Rhubarb, Aphex Twin
Day 04. A song that makes you sad - This Woman's Work, Kate Bush
Day 05. A song that reminds you of someone
Day 06. A song that reminds you of somewhere
Day 07. A song that reminds you of a certain event
Day 08. A song that you know all the words to
Day 09. A song that you can dance to
Day 10. A song that makes you fall asleep
Day 11. A song from your favorite band
Day 12. A song from a band you hate
Day 13. A song that is a guilty pleasure
Day 14. A song that no one would expect you to love
Day 15. A song that describes you
Day 16. A song that you used to love but now hate
Day 17. A song that you hear often on the radio
Day 18. A song that you wish you heard on the radio
Day 19. A song from your favorite album
Day 20. A song that you listen to when you’re angry
Day 21. A song that you listen to when you’re happy
Day 22. A song that you listen to when you’re sad
Day 23. A song that you want to play at your wedding
Day 24. A song that you want to play at your funeral
Day 25. A song that makes you laugh
Day 26. A song that you can play on an instrument
Day 27. A song that you wish you could play
Day 28. A song that makes you feel guilty
Day 29. A song from your childhood
Day 30. Your favorite song at this time last year


This one was tough. Songs don't really make me sad.

There are songs that make me weep, but that can be for many reasons. A turn of phrase is sometimes enough, like the end of Iron & Wine's Passing Afternoon. I had to stop trying to play it on the guitar because I can't choke out:

a baby sleeps in all our bones
so scared to be alone


Jon Brion's Meaningless does it too, though I don't know why. It's not sad. It's not emotionally laden at all. It just sets me off for some reason:

Liberty raised her hand to us
as if to say,
"It's okay. Live today. Live today."


There are songs of yearning, and songs that catch my breath in my throat (Runs In The Family). But none make me "sad". There might be something wrong with me. The closest I could find was this song of regret.

Yes, it's a blatantly manipulative John Hughes clip. But I believe that this scene better serves the song than Bush's own video, which is similar, but... meh. At least, my emotionally supercharged 20 year old self* thought so.



Runner-Up: Still Fighting It, Ben Folds



*And you can thank me now for not recalling back to my seven year old self and embedding Wildfire.

Day 3

Aug. 12th, 2010 03:17 am
rigger: (Default)
Day 01. Your favorite song - Peg, Steely Dan
Day 02. Your least favorite song - Takin' Care of Business, Bachman Turner Overdrive
Day 03. A song that makes you happy - Donkey Rhubarb, Aphex Twin
Day 04. A song that makes you sad
Day 05. A song that reminds you of someone
Day 06. A song that reminds you of somewhere
Day 07. A song that reminds you of a certain event
Day 08. A song that you know all the words to
Day 09. A song that you can dance to
Day 10. A song that makes you fall asleep
Day 11. A song from your favorite band
Day 12. A song from a band you hate
Day 13. A song that is a guilty pleasure
Day 14. A song that no one would expect you to love
Day 15. A song that describes you
Day 16. A song that you used to love but now hate
Day 17. A song that you hear often on the radio
Day 18. A song that you wish you heard on the radio
Day 19. A song from your favorite album
Day 20. A song that you listen to when you’re angry
Day 21. A song that you listen to when you’re happy
Day 22. A song that you listen to when you’re sad
Day 23. A song that you want to play at your wedding
Day 24. A song that you want to play at your funeral
Day 25. A song that makes you laugh
Day 26. A song that you can play on an instrument
Day 27. A song that you wish you could play
Day 28. A song that makes you feel guilty
Day 29. A song from your childhood
Day 30. Your favorite song at this time last year


John loves this song. We do a little dance to it. He points his fingers in the air, and kind of rocks side to side with a wide grin on his face, like the happy corndog he is. It makes me want to hug his head.

And that's all I got. I have less to say about the things I like than the things I do not. I want to believe that it's part of my "charm".



Runner-Up: Ocean Man, Ween

Day 2

Aug. 11th, 2010 03:55 am
rigger: (Default)
Day 01. Your favorite song - Peg, Steely Dan
Day 02. Your least favorite song - Takin' Care of Business, Bachman Turner Overdrive
Day 03. A song that makes you happy
Day 04. A song that makes you sad
Day 05. A song that reminds you of someone
Day 06. A song that reminds you of somewhere
Day 07. A song that reminds you of a certain event
Day 08. A song that you know all the words to
Day 09. A song that you can dance to
Day 10. A song that makes you fall asleep
Day 11. A song from your favorite band
Day 12. A song from a band you hate
Day 13. A song that is a guilty pleasure
Day 14. A song that no one would expect you to love
Day 15. A song that describes you
Day 16. A song that you used to love but now hate
Day 17. A song that you hear often on the radio
Day 18. A song that you wish you heard on the radio
Day 19. A song from your favorite album
Day 20. A song that you listen to when you’re angry
Day 21. A song that you listen to when you’re happy
Day 22. A song that you listen to when you’re sad
Day 23. A song that you want to play at your wedding
Day 24. A song that you want to play at your funeral
Day 25. A song that makes you laugh
Day 26. A song that you can play on an instrument
Day 27. A song that you wish you could play
Day 28. A song that makes you feel guilty
Day 29. A song from your childhood
Day 30. Your favorite song at this time last year

My problems with Takin' Care of Business are manifold, but they all stem from its brainlessness.

Musically, it's Bullwinkle. No thought went into it. I do not mean to suggest that simple or effortless do not have their places in music, but brainless— even in Ye Olde Goode Tyme Rocking and Rollinge— does not. There are no musical ideas here. George Thorogood had musical ideas. Bob Segar had musical ideas. Fucking BTO had musical ideas, they just didn't include any of them here. This is wank.

I just googled BTO to learn that they have yet to commit suicide, which any thinking musician would have done after decades of playing Takin' Care of Business. I see that they are Canadian. Mullet probability is high.

I used to play bass in a country and western bar band. There. I said it. It was a dark time in my life. I didn't even need the money. I just thought that, having learned to play an instrument, I should perform. I was wrong. I know that now.

Our musician turn-over was high. Members, in their various stages of meth-addlement, often decided to "write" their own material, which was always a breezy delight. The process gave clear insight into what goes into Lowest Common Denominator rock.

Drummer: Should I count along in a One! Two! Three! Four! fashion as I click my drumsticks together before the song starts? Or shall I click them senza voce?

Everyone: Oh, definitely count along. Definitely. That is very rock and roll. We have heard that many, many times before on various rock and roll recordings, and we want to be a part of that.

Guitarist: I could kind of maybe noodle around on the strings while he does that. Make it sound like I'm warming up. Like we just picked up our instruments, and sort of— here we go!— right?

Everyone: Oh, yes! We should all do this thing. We will sound like we are warming up, and then break into song. We have also heard this on many recordings, and it is good. It is a candid glimpse into our Rock and Roll band lifestyle. It is without artifice.

Drummer: I have a large triangle.

Singer: Then you must employ it! Ring the triangle stridently at the beginning of the song!

Drummer: And while I ring it, you will cry, "Come and git it! ROCK AND ROOOOOOOOLL!" in a gravelly rocking and/or rolling voice.

Guitarist: This will replace the countdown?

Singer: No! We shall do both.

Bassist: I am going to kill myself.

Drummer: So. The guitarist and bassist commence noodling, to give the impression that the listener has caught us in a moment of unsupervised band spontaneity, and then I ring the triangle. The singer whoops, "Come and git it, ROCK AND ROOOOOOOLL," and then I click and count off the song.

Guitarist: We should go "Whooooo!"

Singer: Yes! I have always wanted to go "Whoooooo!" When the drummer starts counting, one of us should laugh a hearty rock— and yet somehow, at the same time, roll— kind of laugh, and then just after the fourth click, we all go "Whooooo!" Are we agreed?

Drummer: We are, but our bassist appears to have expired.

Guitarist: This is merely inconvenient, as bassists are easily replaced.

This is the mentality that goes into songs like Takin' Care of Business, and why they are so unforgivable. No cliché is too threadworn, no bombastic gesture too overripe. No trope's edge is ever blunted through repeated use. Derivative? Fuck it. If they've heard it work on an album before, it goes in. It's the egalitarian, feel-good, Brett Ratneresque approach to committee songwriting.

And the lyrics. This song is airtight proof that no one ever listens to lyrics. If BTO's fans ever paid attention to the lyrics to this song, they'd rush the stage with broom handles and cut-off lengths of hose. Takin' Care of Business FUCKING MOCKS THE AUDIENCE. It rubs the listener's face in the fact that he or she must work for a living, while the performer's life is one of beer, sun, and leisure. Take that, assholes! With your jobs, commutes, and alarm clocks!

they get up every morning from their alarm clock's warning
take the eight fifteen into the city
there's a whistle up above and people pushing, people shoving
and the girls who try to look pretty
and if your train's on time you can get to work by nine
and start your slaving job to get your pay
if you ever get annoyed, look at me I'm self-employed
I love to work at nothing all day

and I've been taking care of business, every day
taking care of business, every way
I've been taking care of business, it's all mine
taking care of business, and working overtime
workout!

there's work easy as fishing, you can be a musician
if you could make sounds loud or mellow
get a second hand guitar, chances are you go far
if you get in with the right bunch of fellows
people see you having fun just a-lying in the sun
tell them that you like it this way
it's the work that we avoid and we're all self-employed
we love to work at nothing all day

and we've been taking care of business, every day
taking care of business, every way
we've been taking care of business, it's all mine
taking care of business, and working overtime
funkay!

Woo! Alright! Ow! Yeah!

Take good care of my business when I'm away every day, woo!

(Ha ha! Ya!)


Etc.

Mostly I hate what the song has to say about us. Takin' Care of Business should never have been the hit that it was. It certainly didn't deserve to be a part of our cultural consciousness. It's shorthand now, for both work and ease. Editing a spot for floor cleaner and you need a tune that implies grease-cutting efficiency? BTO's Takin' Care of Business. Need soundtrack as you piece together the camcorder footage of your frat brothers vomiting with their arms around each others' shoulders? BTO, again. Want a song that'll grab the judges' attention while your toddler flirts and preens onstage in fishnet stockings for the Our Little Miss* Pageant? Takin' Care of Business fills that need handily.

That, and it's so fucking over, you know? Hasn't anyone checked the expiration date on this song?



Runner-Up: Kokomo, Beach Boys



*Actual.
rigger: (Default)
I've ignored Live Journal for months because I've been working on an essay that has somehow transmogrified into a book. A book I hate. So I'm doing this because, God, I need a distraction right now.

Day 01. Your favorite song - Peg, Steely Dan
Day 02. Your least favorite song
Day 03. A song that makes you happy
Day 04. A song that makes you sad
Day 05. A song that reminds you of someone
Day 06. A song that reminds you of somewhere
Day 07. A song that reminds you of a certain event
Day 08. A song that you know all the words to
Day 09. A song that you can dance to
Day 10. A song that makes you fall asleep
Day 11. A song from your favorite band
Day 12. A song from a band you hate
Day 13. A song that is a guilty pleasure
Day 14. A song that no one would expect you to love
Day 15. A song that describes you
Day 16. A song that you used to love but now hate
Day 17. A song that you hear often on the radio
Day 18. A song that you wish you heard on the radio
Day 19. A song from your favorite album
Day 20. A song that you listen to when you’re angry
Day 21. A song that you listen to when you’re happy
Day 22. A song that you listen to when you’re sad
Day 23. A song that you want to play at your wedding
Day 24. A song that you want to play at your funeral
Day 25. A song that makes you laugh
Day 26. A song that you can play on an instrument
Day 27. A song that you wish you could play
Day 28. A song that makes you feel guilty
Day 29. A song from your childhood
Day 30. Your favorite song at this time last year


Because it's FUCKING UNASSAILABLE GENIUS.



Runner Up: Autobahn, Kraftwerk

rigger: (Default)
Okay, now I'm comment whoring. We were taking photos for Ed's birthday, and I liked how this one came out. A rarity.

rigger: (Default)
I apologize for the late notice, but I just got word about half an hour ago that sour cherries are available for picking at the Bacchini family farm, starting this Friday. That means we're heading out there this Saturday morning. Anyone is welcome to come along.

To get us through the lines and into the orchard faster, please print and fill out this form, and have it ready when we get to the farm:

http://brentwoodfruit.com/Release04wtips.pdf

We will meet up at our house, may or may not have breakfast before we drive out (depending on interest,) and then carpool to Bacchini's Fruit Tree. Bring boxes or bags or something to haul your fruit home. Oh, and wear sunscreen.

From what I have read, Bacchini's is a madhouse this weekend, since they're the only sour cherry farm in the bay area. They also have sweet cherries, white cherries, olallaberries, and loquats, but I sneer with contempt at those lesser fruit.

Gleek

May. 7th, 2010 04:39 pm
rigger: (Default)
No.

NO.

We need to nip this in the bud right now.

A "Gleek" is NOT a fan of that retarded Fox musical show. A gleek is the stream of saliva that squirts out of your mouth when you yawn. Apparently fourteen year old boys can do it at will, and that's a gleek too.

The word has been around for decades. It's not yours. Go away. Market your shit elsehow.

And hire writers. Yours suck.

rigger: (Default)
Oh shit, before I forget, it's my coming out anniversary. Twelve years today. Smartest, bestest thing I ever did.

Also, two days ago was our seven year anniversary, John and me. Ours was a rocky, improbable, near-miss of a start, but after four months John initiated one of those honest, allow yourself to be vulnerable talks (on the bridge! Coming home from IBR!) which forced me to admit that I was all in.

So far so good.

Hoarders

Feb. 16th, 2010 01:37 am
rigger: (Default)
Drink:

clothing with sales tag still on it
out of date calendar
surprise furniture
surprise appliance
auxiliary backup kitchen
auxiliary backup kitchen in hallway (3 drinks)
Social Services gets involved
children removed from premises (3 drinks)
adult removed from premises (chug)
Christmas tree
Hard Rock Cafe mug/glass/anything
junk stored in oven
rotten food
a turd (3 drinks)
overflowing ash tray
overflowing litter box (3 drinks)
vermin
mattress infestation
mold
water damage
fire damage (3 drinks)
hoarder blames another family member
family member accepts blame (chug)
per pet owned
per cat owned (2 drinks)
per ceramic cat owned (3 drinks)
per pet euthanized (chug)
per "collection"
per stuffed animal "collection" (2 drinks)
per spooky doll "collection" (3 drinks)
per tattoo
per missing tooth
per missing finger (3 drinks)
middle aged woman
fat, middle aged woman (2 drinks)
diabetic, fat, middle aged woman (3 drinks)
someone sleeps on a pile of laundry
someone sleeps on a pile of trash
someone sleeps in an easy chair
someone sleeps in a tent (3 drinks)
someone sleeps lashed to a toilet (chug)
digging through trash
digging through already sorted bag of trash (2 drinks)
digging through trash in dumpster (3 drinks)
they find something that halts all progress
they find something that triggers meltdown (2 drinks)
they find something broken that triggers meltdown (3 drinks)
they find long lost toy
they find long lost glasses
they find long lost wallet
they find long lost keys
they find long lost registration
they find long lost money
they find long lost dentures (2 drinks)
they find long lost firearms (3 drinks)
they find long lost pet skeleton stuck to the carpet (smack yourself up with heroin)

Arrival

Feb. 4th, 2010 03:24 pm
rigger: (Default)
While watching this video of rugby lads bonding, all I could think of was Mr. Show's Wycked Scepter. Enjoy.
rigger: (Default)
[Error: unknown template video]

New Game

Dec. 31st, 2009 08:03 pm
rigger: (Default)
January fast approaches. Which of course means IBR. Which can only mean that it's time to play "Naked Penis 1-2-3!"

Say you're at a bear event, or rest area, or a B&B in Palm Springs. The moment you see an exposed penis, you must yell "Naked Penis 1-2-3!" as loud and as fast as you can. If you manage to finish saying it before [livejournal.com profile] blakes_7 glomps his mouth on the exposed penis, you win!

What you win is of course entirely up to conjecture, since no one has ever done it.

Proof

Dec. 17th, 2009 01:44 am
rigger: (Default)
[Error: unknown template video]

Visit

Dec. 11th, 2009 12:11 am
rigger: (Default)
[livejournal.com profile] darke and [livejournal.com profile] chibi_masshuu have arrived, and we spent a very nice evening talking shit about you.

Bear

Dec. 4th, 2009 03:46 pm
rigger: (Default)
Dear Bear Magazine,

Please cancel my subscription. You're just no fun anymore.

At least that's how the letter would go if I had a subscription. Honestly, who subscribes to porn magazines? Have you met the internet?
Page generated Sep. 25th, 2017 10:12 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios