Friday, January 30

The Friday Hot Sheet

When you build certain things up in your mind, they tend to gain a sense of atmosphere around them. People build expectations around these kinds of things that seem to elevate events from their regular beginnings into the stage for extraordinary moments to come.

The Super Bowl is one of these. While it's played host to several great games over the years, the enormity and spectacle of the event itself, it's unofficial "national holiday" status as an event people share with their friends and families tends to overshadow the fact that the majority of the games are one-sided blowouts that lack the tension and excitement of the playoff games that led up to it.
Of course if Super Bowl Sunday were only about the game the audience
for this event wouldn't be nearly the size it's grown to over the years.
So when Friday came around (and went) and there wasn't time to get the Hot Sheet done -- especially on the heels of missing it for a few Fridays in a row, I felt really bad about it. I don't know how people feel about reading it, but I really like writing it. It's become a weird time-management issue for me as Fridays have become much busier at work than they used to be, but I desperately wanted to get back on the horse with it.

But the odd thing is that I've kinda built it up in my mind. I want it to be good, especially this one. I'm sure both teams playing Sunday night have similar hopes for themselves. One of them will get their wish, but one of them won't.

Here's hoping this is like the '98-'99 World Champion Broncos teams, and not so much the ones who lost it in 1986, 1987, and 1989.

So before the game kicks off and I'm completely immersed in the biggest game of the year -- here are this weeks risers and fallers, and the buzz as it looks from here.
The Super BowlDespite the fact that we're all gonna watch it anyways -- can you remember another Superbowl that was less hyped than this one? Sure the fans of the Steelers and the Cardinals are rightfully pumped up, but the game itself has the potential to be a huge blowout, and it feels like the people surrounding the marketing if the thing are kinda wary of what that might mean. I feel like outside of ESPN I haven't seen all that much pre-hype for commercials, tie-in contests, or party coverage at all. It's kinda weird to think that for such an important game, literally the last real football game of the year, there's been almost a concerted effort to undersell the game. Maybe it's because outside of their respective fanbases, there's not much to be interested in with these teams. I'm favoring Arizona because of former FSU'er Anquan Boldin and the fact that the franchise has never won the big game, but I feel like the Steelers have the better chance to run away with it. But beyond that I'm not sure what to expect from the broadcast, other than the fact that I have to sit through a halftime show by Bruce Springsteen -- something I am definitely not looking forward to.
The Pink Panther 2The story goes that Bill Murray once made a deal with Columbia Pictures in which they would agree to greenlight his movie version of W. Somerset Maugham's dramatic 1944 novel The Razor's Edge if he would agree to star in a little movie they were working on called Ghostbusters. People weren't ready to accept Murray as a serious dramatic actor just yet, so The Razor's Edge (which is a very sweet little movie) tanked. Ghostbusters faired slightly better -- partially because of Bill Murray's performance. He may not have wanted to do that picture, but when the director called "action" he brought it 100% I desperately want to believe that there is a similar deal in place that brought Steve Martin back for this sequel to the 2006 remake of the Blake Edwards/Peter Sellers classic -- but if there is one I can't find any information about it. You never really know with celebrities, but I can't imagine Steve needs the money -- but it calls into question this whole idea of what drives artists these days. Recently there was a lot of buzz on the web regarding an article comedian David Cross wrote on his website defending his choice to co-star in Alvin and the Chipmunks several years back. Cross, who has a decidedly anti-Disney lean in his comedy act -- defended the gig by saying "work is work," and made sure to point out that he hadn't reached a level of success yet where he could turn down high-paying gigs (an argument I assume he'll use again when the Alvin and the Chipmunks sequel comes out sometime next year). I can understand that argument. I can see taking part in corporate work to fund your artistic endeavors (when you think about it, that's what I'm doing these days too) -- but this isn't David Cross we're talking about here. It's Steve friggin' Martin. Every time the trailer comes on I just shake my head in disbelief.
AppaloosaI love westerns. It's a tough love, because the majority of the ones that Hollywood has been putting out lately are flat-out stupid, but when they're done right -- it's a genre that I can't get enough of. I know not everyone else out there feels that way, so despite the fact that I've come to the realization that it's a pretty good film (despite it's flaws) -- I can't really recommend Appaloosa to anyone who doesn't already sorta like cowboy films. The film itself has a very compelling story, and the action scenes play perfectly with the tone of the story. But there's a major flaw that just sorta kills everything else the film has going for it -- and that would be the fact that the plot hinges on the idea that nearly every man in the movie is supposed to fall instantly, deeply, and passionatley in love with Rene Zellwegger, a concept that simply makes no sense at all. Now for those of you who might have been considering putting the movie on your NetFlix list that have now yanked it off at the mere mention of Zellwegger's name, first let me say that I understand -- but if you're a fan of cowboy movies I urge you to reconsider. It's one of those movies that drove me a little nuts when I was watching it, but then like an hour after it ended I couldn't stop thinking about it. It's not the greatest movie ever made, but it's a really good modern character study featuring two really great actors (Ed Harris and Viggo Mortenson) at the top of their game.
The Friday the 13th remakeIn a somewhat similar story to Bill Murray wanting to do The Razor's Edge and Steve Martin possibly wanting to pay tribute to Peter Sellers with The Pink Panther -- I was reluctant but understanding when overrated director Rob Zombie wanted to remake John Carpenter's Halloween. But now there's word that he's working on a sequel, which means it was really about the money all along. I bring this up because it's exactly the way I feel whenever I see an ad for this reboot of this classic horror series. The effects of the recent Hollywood writer's strike are starting to make their way to the cineplex -- with remakes like My Bloody Valentine (although I still kinda want to see the 3D), Last House on the Left, and this vastly unneeded bloodier reboot of a series that was already way past it's prime with bloodier and bloodier sequels. I'm sure it will be fun in it's own way -- but there's a difference between discovering a great new musical group with a unique and exciting sound and seeing a cover band do the same thing over and over and over. FAIL Hollywood FAIL.
Watching the
Super Bowl      
Is what I'm gonna go do now -- see you next week.

Good Luck Cardinals ( might need it).

[Listening to:  The Left Rights - "Whoosh Whoosh" ]

Thursday, January 29

Thursday Thunderdome: Come on Down!

You all know how this works; two things enter, one thing leaves.

Today we’re talking about the reality shows of the past, where regular people and B-listers alike put their reputations and dignities on the line in the name of entertainment.
Today we’re talking about Game Shows.
Game shows have been around almost as long as entertainment has been broadcast – starting most notably with "Truth or Consequences," which started out as a popular radio quiz show but made the transition to television in 1941, airing on the very first day of broadcasting for New York’s WNBT Channel 4.

A big part of what I think makes game shows so popular is that there are so many different was to enjoy them. You can play along at home. You can cheer for a given contestant to win, get swept up in their chase for success, or you can even armchair quarterback them as they make wrong moves and miscalculations.

The thing that turns so many people off to reality shows (especially the trashy ones) is that they sort of celebrate the less than savory parts of people’s supposedly “real” personalities. A lot of people find it hard to cheer for gold diggers, fame whores, or celeb milking whatever is left of their name recognition for screen time.

What makes game shows (especially the classic ones in the days before the boom of reality TV) different is that even though they were built on many of those same elements – people subjecting themselves to possible embarrassment on national TV, B-list celebrities using it as an extra grab for exposure, the lure of quick and easy cash hanging over the thing like a cheap carrot – the fact that everyone’s aware that it’s a game adds a sorta sense of respectability to the whole thing.

Game shows were places where regular people went to break out of their shells for a little while, have some fun, and maybe win some cash or prizes. Add to that the magical lure that the idea of being on TV holds for so many of us, and it’s a perfect storm.

We’re a weird society -- We love to see the little guys win, but theres nothing we adore more than a colossally embarrassing trainwreck (especially if it’s happening to someone else).

The games that are popular now, whether they are of the Deal or No Deal or Are You Smarter than a 5th Grader variety still bank on those possibilities, but because networks are so wary of driving away the family audiences that shows like that appeal to – they tend to sanitize the formats to the points where the kinds of embarrassments and/or victories that happen fit into one or two expected categories.
Which is why I tend to prefer the games of the past.

Most of the game shows we know now – Pyramid, Wheel of Fortune, Jeopardy, etc. are remakes of older games. And even those games are in a lot of ways just variations on the same kind of theme that "Truth or Consequences" (which itself was apparently based off another game called "forfeits" that people played at parties) exploited so well back in the 50’s.

What makes so many of those games work is that they aren’t simply tests of knowledge, speed, or skill. They’re tests of the contestants wits. Sure you know what the answer to a given question might be –- but how good are you at predicting what other people thought when asked the same question?

--stick around to the end, it’s worth it.
How much do you trust the other person to be as right (or in many cases, as wrong) as you?

Game shows of the late 60’s and early 70’s seemed to perfect this formula – mixing the more socially liberated attitudes of the day with the growing fascination people were having with the cult of celebrity to create a series of games where regular people were paired with B-list celebrities and asked to match each others answers, or give clues to get other people to see what word you were thinking of.

It also doesn’t hurt that in many cases that the celebrities were allowed to smoke on the set and were probably having a couple of drinks along the way – adding more than a little fuel to the possible fire along the way.

If these ideas sound familiar, it’s because these are the same kinds of games people play at parties with each other. Social games where your ability to read people is just as (if not more) important than what you can learn from books.
A quality that’s probably just in true in real life as it is on TV.
But just like so many of us know from our real lives – getting someone else to see your point of view, or understand what you’re saying, or think the same thing as you are at the moment isn’t as easy as it looks.

And for whatever reason – when things go wrong on a game show, they go REALLY wrong – which is what makes the unexpected victories that much sweeter, but also makes the watching of these possible trainwrecks seem so addictive.

So the question before you is this: Of the two clips below -- Which one of these classic game show moments do you like the best, and why?

The Newlywed Game

Super Password
Here are the rules: First, you can only pick one. If you love them both, you have to pick the one that you liked the most.
But here's the twist.
In order for your vote to be counted, you must also tell me the name of your favorite game show, and why you like it so much (a link to a YouTube clip of it would also be nice, but certainly isn't a requirement). Be warned though, if you’re anything like me – it’s easy to get sucked into watching tons of these videos, because if there’s one thing this world will never run out of --
It’s people making complete fools of themselves on TV .

[Listening To:  Sevendust"Separate" ]

Wednesday, January 28

Slip Slide Melting

I used to harbor this sorta secret plan. I would assemble and lead a band of top-notch musicians that would play locally with a good reputation (and a perhaps little buzz). We'd play a wide variety of styles and songs that would not only make for a challenge to play live, but would also be fun to listen and dance to and not just hours and hours of guitar solos -- although there would certainly be some of that too ;)

But the most important part of the plan was this -- every Halloween we would get up on stage and play every song off the soundtrack to "The Crow" in order as they appear on the album.
And nothing else.
At the time I was hatching and promoting this plan to a select circle of friends and drunken roommates, The Crow soundtrack was an album that almost everyone I knew owned. It was also the time when "The Crow" was still considered a decent movie -- and not just the progenitor of an increasingly horrible number of sequels and outfits at Hot Topic.

The album itself was sort of an anomaly, this odd mix of heavy metal and shoegazing indie rock that for whatever reason sort of worked as a whole, despite being ridiculously top heavy on it's first side with groups like Pantera, Rage Against the Machine, My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult, Henry Rollins, and the Cure only to match that with a B side made up mostly of ballads and indie rock songs. What's more, most of the songs on the album were covers of songs by other bands.
Meaning that the show would be a band doing a tribute show to an album of bands paying tribute
to other bands -- a move so simultaneously clever and pretentious that it simply had to be brilliant.
I was all sorts of gung-ho about the "Halloween Crow Show" idea when I first thought of it -- but it didn't keep me from realizing the fact that there were numerous obstacles in the way of its success. First and foremost -- to pull it off effectively, the band would need a singer who could shift quickly and effectively from the soulful caterwauling of Robert Smith to the growling rage of Phil Anselmo, which is to say nothing of the fact that several of the songs on the disc are sung by women.

Beyond this somewhat enormous technical problem, I was always wary that the second half of the concert would be filled with slightly wussier content than the first part -- a problem I used to dismiss by reminding myself that the songs at the end of "The Rocky Horror Picture Show" were infinitely less fun than anything the first half hour had to offer.

Plus, my imaginary superband would only be making this possible thematic mistake once a year, so if anyone gave us crap about it we'd tell them that they were simply too lame to get the artistic statement we were making -- at which point I'd smash my guitar over their head Paul Simonon-style or Gristina would pee on them.

The point of all this reminiscing is twofold. First of all -- The Crow soundtrack was one of the last few albums I can recall that had a certain flow that made it work cover to cover, a trick that was rare even in the heyday of cassettes and CD's, and has been rendered almost utterly inconsequential in the modern era by the popularity of iPods and mp3 players that favor random songs from your library mixed or shuffled together over going from the beginning of a given album all the way to the end.

Point of fact is that over the years I've come to realize that I really don't like a lot of the songs on The Crow Soundtrack. But I always loved the way they all worked together to create a whole. It's something you notice with soundtrack albums more easily, because they're more likely to be a mix of different artists where the flow from song to song becomes more important. But back in the day of cassettes and CD's I secretly hoped every new disc I bought would be one of those ones I could just cycle cover to cover -- unintentional concept albums onto themselves, so to speak.
I kinda miss that.
But more importantly, in pseudo-preparation for this epic concert event that never actually happened -- I embarked on a process of first learning the guitar parts for every song on the album, and then "rehearsing the show" by playing along with all 14 songs on the CD back to back to back. No stopping, no apologizing for mistakes, no fear.
I wasn't in a band, but I practiced as if I were.
It's one of the funny things about guitar playing -- you need to practice. You need to keep your fingers and musical senses limber, especially if you're planning on playing in an improvisational setting like a jam session or a jazz gig. But there's "practice" and then there's practice.

Once upon a time I used to run scales every day. Trying to build up speed, trying to get the ideas into my fingers so I'd never be stuck for one in the middle of a song. To me it wasn't boring because there was a goal in sight. It's sorta like when you see a guy at the basketball court every day that can almost dunk, and just stakes out a net for his own and just runs up at it again and again and again until he finally clears that rim. And even then he keeps doing it – because it's about getting the motion natural, then it's about doing it with your left hand, and so on.

But then a funny thing happened. I started going to jam sessions with other people only to find that I didn't really know that many songs. Sure I could come up with a solo easier than the other guys in the room, but it wasn't really much help to me when other people were calling the tunes and I had to spend half the jam trying to get the chords down.
You can't learn to swim by reading a book.
It's funny, because the reason I used to hate piano lessons was that (with my teacher at least) it was always drills and techniques. Rulers sitting on the tops of my hands to ensure that my wrists didn't jump. It wasn't music -- it was some sort of bizarre hand calisthenics course that my parents subjected me to once a week. I was too young to understand that building that vocabulary and those skills would make me a better musician in the end, but I was old enough to know that it wasn't satisfying on any sort of creative level at all.

I used to get like that about jobs too. I'd end up working in these customer service call center or corporate report specialist gigs that were just soul-sucking hours of nothing. Days without end where I would push paper that was pushed to me for hours and wonder what it was all for.

I still get that way sometimes, but I've reached an age and a debt level where the skills I've built in the arena I work in now -- while rarely fulfilling to me personally -- end up in their own way serving a larger purpose that I do see value in.
Or to put it another way – My responsibilities largely dictate my direction now.
The kids call it "Adulthood." It sounds lame, but you’re allowed to have booze – so it all kinda evens out in the end.

The problem is that it would probably work out a lot better if I could find a way to mentally commit to it. This is gonna probably come off sounding really cloying and Boomer-ish -- but I used to think that there was a switch that would go off at a certain point in my life where the things that seemed utterly uncool when I was younger would feel like the right thing to do. Getting married, being a dad, accepting the way that the things you wanted to do when you were young didn’t work out exactly the way you hoped they would..
Being a father is the most important adventure in my life. There’s no doubt about that at all.
But it’s like the equation doesn’t always balance when I see the guitar in the corner. I know there are plenty of musicians with families – that’s not what I’m talking about. What I’m talking about is that the original goal was about the instrument. The picture didn’t include a wife or a child.
That was going to come later (if at all) -- possibly as a result of the guitar, or the places it took me.
That probably reads like I’m blaming my ex and by extension my son with the lack of success in this particular enterprise. But that’s not it at all. I made the decisions that put me in those places. I had my reasons for feeling those were the right things to do at the time.

What I’m saying is -– when you examine it under the microscope of hindsight, a different hypothesis starts to develop:
Maybe I’m not as devoted to my music as I’ve always believed I was.
There’s this show on TV right now called "The Tool Academy." The premise is that a bunch of douchebag guys have been tricked by their fed-up girlfriends into this sort of "relationship boot camp" where their philandering, juvenile, a-hole ways are called to the mat and if they don’t choose to abandon their Tool-osity, their girlfriends will leave them. The guy who reforms himself best will not only save his endangered relationship -- but walk away with a huge cash prize, yada yada yada.

On the surface, it’s a brilliant TV idea. Jerk boyfriends get called out and busted, trained and manicured -- then come out on the other side of the Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory as well-mannered, faithful gentlemen you can take home to mother.
Essentially it's porn for co-dependent women.
But doesn't the premise that your jerkwad boyfriend with the tribal tattoos and the Gucci sunglasses is in reality nothing more than some Tootsie Pop that you can simply melt away to reveal the Hugh Grant underneath sort of blissfully ignore the fact that some people are just assholes?

Regardless, the show powers on with all these popped-collar muscleheads who spend half the episodes talking about how they can get any woman they want at any time and their girl can’t do anything about it, followed by scenes where they tell those same women that they desperately want to change, and that they’re sorry.
Bwow chikka wow wow.
It works on a certain trashy level as throwaway entertainment, but as an actual show it’s impossible to believe -– because if these guys were actually the tools they claim to be, wouldn’t it make more sense that the moment the trap was sprung and it became clear their girlfriends were on to their cheating player ways that the Tools in question would simply bail, go back to Jersey, and move on to the next chick who will believe their rap?
Clearly these guys aren’t really tools at all.
More likely they're actors simply wearing the appearance of douchebaggery in order to make the inevitable transitions at the end seem more believable.

Not that every man can’t be a tool in his own way (I’ve certainly done time in that pen), but that if these particular dudes were really committed to being the kind of guy who uses women like Kleenex -- then getting busted and moving on to the next one should just sort of be part of the drill, right?
The fact that none of them plays drums also seems highly suspicious.
I’m not saying once a tool, always a tool –- but what I am saying is that if you’re at the apex of your potential tool-itude (guitar-itude, being able to dunk a basketball-itude), at a time in your life when it serves you the best -- then what’s your motivation to not be that way? Wouldn’t the stable one-woman stay at home and watch Grey’s Anatomy type relationship for the confirmed party boy be the equivalent of the corporate desk job for the rocker?

In a larger sense it seems like that's the idea that the show is banking on. This suggestion that we all wear costumes and masks of a sort in our youth that should eventually be discarded in the name of maturity or whatever -- implying that those of us who for whatever reason wish to hold on to them well past their expiration dates are somehow flawed for not letting go.

To my way of thinking, the ideal state involves some sort of balance. That the album of your life flows as a whole -- good songs and bad, instead of just featuring a few favorite hits and a bunch of throwaways. That I could be a dad who has a job but I play in a band that gigs around town a few nights a week and maybe travels on weekends. Every now and then I get some writing published that lets me take time off to work on that novel I keep saying I’m gonna write, but I’m always there to see him play little league.
Not a lot of free time in there, to be sure -- but plenty of possibilities for personal fulfillment.
But when that balance doesn’t exist –- when you feel like you’re put in a place where you have to favor one thing over the other it can become really frustrating. I remember being in college just staring out the windows of some classes wondering when I could actually get out and live life for real, a feeling that sometimes still hits me while I’m at work.
You never want to feel like you’re chasing your tail.
The weird thing is that if you’re sitting on the outside looking in at the kid in his bedroom running scales on his guitar for hours on end or the guy at the park trying to dunk over and over -– it can sorta look like that. It’s the same thing over and over and over. What’s the difference between filing inventory reports 5 days a week and playing B minor pentatonic 100 times in a row all over the fretboard?
I know for a fact that it is different. It’s just that I can’t really explain why.
The result is that sometimes I find myself in a place where despite the fact that filing the inventory reports results in a bi-weekly monetary reward that keeps a roof over my head and maintains a steady supply of Capri Suns for my little boy to sip on while he’s playing Star Wars Lego II, I don’t feel the pride in it the way I would if say – I were a working writer or musician.
I like the job -- but in a lot of ways, it’s just a job, you know?
Think about that pilot that successfully ditched that jet in the Hudson River, saving all the passengers with his quick thinking and skill. A former fighter pilot who’s been flying planes for like 40 years. You think that guy’s at 35,000 feet on his way to Charlotte right now thinking, "Man I wish I was a rock star?"
Of course not. He already is.

[Listening To:  Robert Palmer"Looking for Clues" ]

Tuesday, January 27

Zsa Zsa NoMore

How Many 90 Year Olds Could You Take in a Fight?

[Listening To: Guthrie Govan"Ner Ner" ]

Monday, January 26

When Are They Going to Get to the Fireworks Factory!?

It's one thing to feel like you have nothing interesting to write about at all, but it's quite another to get bogged down in the implications that have surfaced amidst page after page after page of rambling, incoherent musings about why you aren't inspired to write lately and feel generally like you'll always be the guy with the blog and the guitar in the corner and never the guy with the byline on the novel or the concert hall filled with people dying to hear you play.
Possibly related -- I've been spending inordinate amounts of time trying
(unsuccessfully) to learn how to play this song and it's driving me nuts.
[Listening To: Mnemic"Liquid" ]

Wednesday, January 7


created at
[Listening To: The Knux"Bang Bang" ]

Tuesday, January 6

2008: The Fitness Year in Review

Reposted from Challenge of the Pudgy Titans
It's all about point of view. In terms of being fat, staying fat, and getting fatter -- 2008 fucking rocked. The starts, the stops, the restarts, the frustration, the anger, the malaise.. few stones were left unturned without later being eaten while simultaneously not being raised above my head repetitively in an effort to tone muscle or burn any amount of fat.
That being said, I did get in the ring with my weight
and did my best to fight it off during the past 12 months.
..It's just that I lost horribly at it and ended up about 10-15 pounds heavier than when I first joined The Challenge of the Pudgy Titans several years back.

Here's the thing -- much like those "weight loss plateaus" that I've heard so much about but not really had much chance to experience -- I think there are equal and opposite levels of "weight gain plateaus."

For example, there was a a long period where I was utterly unhappy with the way I couldn't really escape the 240's. Considering that I haven't seen anything close to 240 for a few years now makes this seem funny to me, but I clearly remember complaining about it.

At one point a few years later after training for few a few River Runs and I got into a 228 kind of groove where I was purchasing "Large" sized shirts instead of XL's, and occasionally having to look for smaller pants size -- but then after a series of personal and physical roller coasters, I've found myself living in the 260's, with occasional nods towards even higher numbers.

That being said, I'm on to 2009 with a new resolve and yet another new push, and what at one point was 265 has now been slinking back down towards the 250's, where I believe my real plateau at this point in time actually is.

I still eat badly, but I'm working on it. The new gimmick that I'm trying is adding/substituting turkey in places where beef and chicken previously ruled, and drinking more water during the day. I'm also back in the gym on a semi-regular (read: 3 times since the start of the new year so far) basis. If that weren't enough I'm also trying a new thermogenics regimen and researching certain supplements in the hope that they might help things along.

The interesting side effects to all this thus far is that I seem to be alternating between being pissed off for no apparent reason and ridiculously drowsy at inopportune times, which is to say nothing about how hungry I am late at night -- which is usually a prime snack hour for me that I've been resisting, which probably has more than a little to do with how pissed off I am in the mornings when all I have to look forward to each day is emptying my 1.5L bottle of Zephyrhills.
It's not all doom and gloom, I have lost about 5 pounds since
the holiday binge season, but I know myself well enough to know
that I can get that back pretty damn easily if I put my mind to it.
And so it goes -- beating myself up as I charge into the new year feeling tired and pissed off and slightly lighter than I was a week or two ago. My gym membership finally ends sometime this year, which is OK because I now have free access to the gym at work and I could really use the extra scratch every month.

I do look back at regularly posting on the fitness blog as a positive, even though there were times when posting was more depressing than anything. So I'm gonna keep up with that -- but I do wish there was a way to use it more proactively.

For example, I recently got a "these are yours I don't want them in my house anymore" care package from my ex-wife that included several pictures of a markedly thinner me that made me feel like crap, which might provide a useful compare/contrast tool.

Here's what I do know. Any change that is going to happen will take a few months to kick in. Thus far it's also become clear that my frustration level with my weight loss peaks every few months regardless of my progress.
Basically, it's a race.
Tune in next month to see who's winning!

[Listening To:  Josie Cotton"Johnnie, Are You Queer?" ]

Monday, January 5

Why It Doesn't Work: Racism

Because spelling counts, asshole.

[Listening To:  Black Light Burns"The Mark" ]

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