take a suck o' this

As I was sitting in my jazz class today listening to some girl behind me sing lyrics to some crappy neo-swing song, it dawned on me; besides sand stuck in my butt-crack, nothing seems to annoy me more than hearing a girl sing lyrics which were originally performed by a man. If you are short on time, you could get the gist of this argument by calling to mind Britney Spears’s remake of “My Prerogative.” I mean, Britney couldn’t get it right, and she’s famous for singing. I could just be being sexist, but I can’t help but feel like a monotonous Billie Holiday, singing with the effort one would exert will recording a book on tape does the lyrics
“I wanna see it painted, painted black
Black as night, black as coal
I wanna see the sun blotted out from the sky
I wanna see it painted, painted, painted, painted black
Yeah!”
any justice.
Further, I realized (and I wasn’t stoned) that techno is a white man’s counter product to hip-hop. Think about it, hip-hop revolves around heavy base lines, so does techno. Hip-hop tirelessly samples from other genres of music, as does techno. This may be a generalization, but people engulfed in the hip-hip community do drugs, as do raver’s. And as for the ultimate smack-in-the-face, the white people who first made techno said to the black man, “If you’re going to take over all the sports that we started first and show us up by running faster than we do, then we’re gonna copy you’re music, except we’re gonna make our beats faster than yours. So why don’t you put that in your pipe and smoke it.” I don’t know, that’s just one man’s opinion.
In closing, I just want to know why in the blue fuck has John Deer© apparel become a “cool thing”. And I don’t want to hear “because of Ashton Kutcher”, cuz that is bullshit.
-Ben

Comedy Gold

April 27, 2005
9:08 P.M.
Answering Machine: "One...new...message...from...David...Acklin"
And I quote:
"Hey, it's me. Hope you're having a great evening, just wanted to call and say 'hi'" (cough, cough) "Still got that cough...oh" (cough, cough, cough)"...might be this joint." (pause for longer bout of intermittent coughing) "Oh shit! Well, anyhow, watching the Diamondbacks, trying to smoke this thing at the same time..." (more coughing) "...Oh FUCK!? Anyhow, I hope you're having a great night. Just wanted you to know how much I appreciate all the help you're providing at the office, keeping up with all the work..." (more coughing) "...shit, last time I try and multitask. This is some good dope. Anyway, want you to know I love ya." (couple more coughs interspersed with subtle, yet audible, sound of Dad taking another drag) "Well, ah, I'm getting pretty fucked up, I'll see ya at the office tomorrow..." (clearly holding his breath and speaking at the same time until alas he can hold it in no longer, more coughing, hangs up phone).
-Aden

Whither Thy Houston?

We've reached critical mass here in Space City, USA. T-minus 4 days until Serazio and Ramey blast off into the abyss that is...anywhere outside of the Oil Capital of the U.S. What will happen to our fearless heroes who remain? Will Malisow, seeing the departure of Houston's gayest male, finally spiral out of control into mass-gayness and become the "Head Dude" at the Meat Rack? Will Null drink himself sober, renouncing all sin and become an evangelical preacher? Will Katherine marry Aden? Will Jeremy meet a girl with an equally stunning mustache? Tune in and watch to see what happens to our eclectic cast of characters as the world is turned on its head!

Pope Score Card

All,

It's become obvious from your collective silence that, perhaps, the relative greatness of David Bowie and any tangential discussion on the matter is a bit too dodgey for this site. So, I figured we could talk about something more light and playful, like the Pope and the future of Catholicism.

Ok, my devotion to Catholicism doesn't exactly rival Mikey's, or Ramey's, or even the unflinching dedication of Johnny Wazsczak (fucking Polish names). However, Ratzinger was vehemently opposed to "liberation theology" (re: El Salvador, Nicaragua circa: Reagan years) which, for anyone who's watched "Salvador" (James Woods, Jim Belushi) or "Under Fire", realizes that stance isn't exactly a feather in the cap. Then, thanks to the fact finders at the BBC, he decides to publicly deny communion to any pro-choice politicians. I'm sorry folks, the hypocrisy is a bit staggering on this front. Yes, he hates faggots too, but that's boiler plate material for the head of the R.C.C. But renouncing the socio-political role of the church in Central America, particularly in the 1980's, and then weighing in on the 2004 elections here in the States is pretty chickenshit in my playbook.

The little stint in the Hitler Youth and the Wehrmacht doesn't impress potential employers either. Keeping this in mind I'd like to look toward a high point in film making by pointing to a little ditty starring Gregory Peck called "Boys from Brazil". If you've ever caught the flick then I think we can all agree that the tenets of fascism now have some pretty deep roots in the Vatican. Wild eyed conspiracy theories aside I am with Serazio on this front: the churched missed the boat by not putting a South/Central American on the Papal Throne.

-Aden

Pope Prayer Card

I've been unemployed for over a month now, living of whatever money I've saved for the past two years. A week ago, I was offered a few days work at a printing company. They needed some extra help, and I figured it would do me good to get a few days hard labor in my belly. So I went in on Monday, not knowing if they wanted me to help out for a day, a week, or what.

So this company basically has a whole bunch of accounts throughout the city. Labels, pictures, special order cards- mass ordering stuff. Like 20,000 labels for blueberry jam or some shit. They print, cut, package, ship.

On Tuesday, the first full day I worked there (and for all I know the last), they had an order for a church, one of their big accounts. The church wanted, what I guess is a technical term because the order actually said this; Pope Prayer Cards. These are baseball size cards, with a picture of the pope on the front, and information about him on the back. Nothing as elaborate as lifetime statistics of blessings, just important dates and a quote.

Anyways. The church had called upon Print Management to print, cut, package and deliver the cards to numerous churches in the Seattle area. Or, to be more elaborate; a shit load of cards were to be sent out to a few hundred churches.

I explain all this to get to my point. All day long Tuesday, and about half of Wednesday, I was counting, stacking and packing Pope Prayer Cards. Completely unsupervised. I had a list of churches with amounts to send, labels with addresses to put on the boxes, and about 120,000 pictures of the Pope.

This situation struck me as a tad absurd. What the fuck was I doing in a random suberb of Seattle, in charge of the Pope? How did I get in this situation? Who am I to not take this very special opportunity to fuck with the church? I'm sure porn playing cards aren't hard to find in a city the size of Seattle. What harm could come from a little T & A in among the Pope?

Well, lots probably. The church would probably be a little upset, and might excomminicate the whole business, and I didn't want to get anyone fired. Starting in a new city by burning bridges didn't seem like the best approach.

So I didn't do anything, or course. I'm not an asshole or a crazy person. I just appreciate the absurdity of the situation, which is enough for me to live off of for a few weeks.

So take care out there wherever you kids happen to be. Let's keep the bizarre situations at a maximum output.

Love and love,

J

Opening a New Chapter

Well, it seems the Pope has passed away. It's obvious, to me at least, that Mike's departure from the Houston Press tipped the scales on the Pope's resolve to sustain his fading light of hope and life. Hope you're happy Serazio, the Pope's death is on your shoulders now. Good luck living that one down.
On another note, I've spent many restless nights searching for the proper answer to Cory's not-so-recent quandary concerning the relationship between his psychological health and the uselessness of his chosen occupation. Granted, it is much more difficult for our generation to step into adulthood, and all of its associated trappings, with as much ease and grace as our predecessors. People have done studies focusing on our generation's propensity to accrue negative debt on a massive scale. This debt is often viewed as that albatross which prevents us from purchasing a home, getting married, or having the resources necessary to raise a proper family free from the incestuous disfigurement of those lineages of, um, the lower caste.
Aside from cheap shots at the underprivileged the fact of the matter is that there are multitude of us who strove for a higher education, maintained exceptional credit, and retained gainful employment before, during, and after our time in a university setting. Yet for some inexplicable reason those of us in the aforementioned crowd are still unable to make that transition from adolescence to young adulthood. I can't comment objectively as to whether or not our maturity is somehow lacking, or if our generation is deliberately postponing the sedentary lifestyle of the married with children. Yet the fact remains that we are at an age where our generation is a bit disillusioned about the prospects of marriage, down-right upset about the quality of our employment opportunities (not so much fiscally, but the content and context of the occupations themselves), and wondering as Cory stated, what's wrong with wanting to see more nymphets prancing about in French Maid outfits? I'm eager to hear some more thoughts on this one.
Ok for now,
Aden

Independence Day

So today I cleaned out my desk and prepared to leave the first job I've had out of college. Feelings are funny. You expect to feel one thing when something big happens and then when you get there, you're not sure if you're feeling that yet. I had expected today to a mix of excitement, relief, sadness, and wistfulness. Instead, I've found myself laughing for much of the day, which, at this job, in this place, I've found myself doing for most of the two years that I've been here. I think my one big fear is that I'll come to a place when I don't have great friends around to laugh with. I mean, even moving around a lot since high school, I've always been able to find laughter. Not because I'm particularly funny -- I don't really think I am even. But because God has put these funny, wonderful people on my highway. And I've been put on theirs. And all I can offer them is optimism and a sense of humor in exchange for the wonderfully funny things they offer me.

Two years ago, I came to Houston and it was just a name on a map, a name with a bad reputation perhaps. Now, as I leave, I think it's one of the happiest places I've ever lived. I started at this newspaper and I was scared senseless. I didn't eat well my first few weeks, because of the nerves alone. I cried my first night after work. I was terrified of doing what you do in journalism. I was terrified of making a bad mistake in front of 110,000 people. Now I'm not so terrified. And I laugh a lot.

I love this town. I've loved this job. I love this newspaper. If my heart was divided up, a big part of it would be filed under "Houston Press."

As I cleaned up and tossed out the old papers lying around this cube, the old trinkets from leftover stories, I came across an old Nick Hornby column in the Times. "Youth is a quality not unlike health: it's found in greater abundance among the young, but we all need access to it. I'm not talking about the accouterments of youth: the unlined faces, the washboard stomachs, the hair. The young are welcome to all that -- what would we do with it anyway? I'm talking about the energy, the wistful yearning, the inexplicable exhilaration, the sporadic sense of invincibility, the hope that stings like chlorine. When I was younger, rock music articulated these feelings, and now that I'm older it stimulates them, but either way, rock 'n' roll was and remains necessary because: who doesn't need exhilaration and a sense of invincibility, even if it's only now and again?"

I liked how he put that about youth, because a lot of us who read and write this blog are beginning to find ourselves at an age where that inexplicable exhilaration is slipping away and in its place, a calmness. There are advantages to both and even if there weren't, it's the natural course of things.

I'm not sure what it's going to feel like to walk out the door one last time. I could guess, but I'll really just have to do it and then know. Hopefully they'll be laughter on the other side. But, God, I'm going to miss this place.

the mustache guide

Hello.

Now, as many of you know, Jeremy recently killed his mustache. This is sad news, though apparently he's now working towards a "Seattle mustache." Better than no mustache, but I still think it sounds flaccid.

Anyway, as a champion of mustaches worldwide, I present the mustache guide for all men who have a mustache or may someday have a mustache. Please refer to the links below as you develop your facial hair, as there is certainly a difference between good mustache and bad mustache. I have offered brief commentary after each photo.

1.)Selleck

Perhaps the prototype for all other mustaches. Yes, it's probably easier for an older man to achieve this degree of density, but note that this mustache seems particularly masculine, thanks to its fullness. It also complements the eyebrows well. Being Tom Selleck is also a good start.

2.)Oates



Here, Oates is working very well with his hair. Note that his mustache is a little more groomed than Selleck's; this fits his image as an edgy, trendy, quasi-homosexual rocker. It had the same effect on Malisow, minus the "quasi"

3.) Gable

Yes, it worked for Vivian Leigh, but this is a little too dated. It now looks too effeminate. If you're gonna grow a stache, grow it all the way.

4.)Good God

but don't take it too far. this is atrocious

5.) Aw, yeah

Now, if your growth tends to be a little sparse (Mike), this is a good way to go. Note that the mustache and goatee are small, but since they're collaborating, the overall result is quite good. It looks natural. Now, for a goatee gone wrong...

6.) Please no

no no no no no. never ever ever do this. if you want to hook up with a chick, I mean.

thanks for your time, and happy growing!

JR