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The Sadistic Goldfish
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The Abominari Bathroom Reader
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Comrades!
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Death Log
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Limbo.
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I work in the morning, what is this madness [03:49|01.31.2005|#1199]
Should I do Coachella this year? Hmmm....

Coldplay
Bauhaus
Weezer
Cocteau Twins
The Chemical Brothers
Wilco
Keane
Snow Patrol
Rilo Kiley
Cafe Tacuba
Doves
Sage Francis
Armin Van Buuren
The Raveonettes
Bloc Party
Mercury Rev
Fantomas
Hernan Cattaneo
Zap Mama
DJ Peretz
The Secret Machines
Jamie Cullum
M83
Ambulance LTD
Four Tet
MF Doom
Josh Wink
Amp Fiddler
Tiga
The Kills
Donavon Frankenreiter
Spoon
Boom Bip
Katie Melua
DJ Marky
Immortal Technique
Jean Grae
Razorlight
Swayzak
Radio 4
Buck 65
Eisley
The Sexy Magazines
k-os

Nine Inch Nails
New Order
Bright Eyes
Gang of Four
Prodigy
Black Star
The Faint
Roni Size
The Arcade Fire
Roots Manuva
DJ Krush
Thrice
Junkie XL
M.I.A.
British Sea Power
The Dresden Dolls
Miss Kittin
The Fiery Furnaces
Aesop Rock
The Perceptionists
Jem
Autolux
Sixtoo
Tegan and Sara
Stereophonics
The Bravery
Matthew Bear
Diplo
Subtle
Beans
Shout Out Louds
The Futureheads
Sloan
Kasabian
The Blood Brothers
Matmos
Wolf Eyes
Gram Rabbit
Smokestacks
Zion I

http://www.coachella.com/

Granted, I don't like most of the acts listed (Thrice? Coldplay? NO THANKS), buuuuut..... Yeah, why not?

Hotel room: BOOKED ; Spots open for Roomies: 3
Abomicide27

Everyone loses to Richard Hatch again. [03:30|01.31.2005|#1198]
Alright, little fella, get goin' on. All right, keep goin'. Make daddy proud. You smell that prize, don't you? Don't you want that prize? You're better than all these others, you know: you're a winner, you know. I can see it in your eye. You've got the beginnings of a champ in you. Come on, you can do it. Not much further now. Keep that lead, Champ. Can I call you Champ? Great work, Champ. Not long now, Champ. You and I, we're going to go home with the gold on this one, Champ. Mind if I call you Warhead? You're gonna be the greatest of them all, Champ---I mean, "Warhead"! You're gonna blow this world right open. All right, we're almost there! WE.... NOO! OH GOD, CHAMP, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? STOP, NO, GO GO THE --- GO THE OTHER WAY! WHY DID YOU TURN AROUND?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU FUCKING INCOMPETENT SHIT, ARE YOU FUCKING RETARDED? DADDY WANTS A NEW PORSCHE!! DON'T YOU WANT TO TAKE THE PRIZE, GO HOME WITH THE GOLD, CAPTURE THE FLAG, PENETRAT----WHAT THE FUCK?!? NOOOO!! NOOOOOOO!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING, EATING A FUCKING SANDWICH!? ARE YOU FUCKING JERKING OFF IN THERE?!! WHY CAN'T YOU FOLLOW YOUR SIMPLE INSTRUCTIONS?! WHY?? WHY???YOU HAVE ONLY ONE PURPOSE IN LIFE AND YOU JUST FUCKING BLEW IT, BUDDY. GOD DAMN IT, YOU LITTLE SHITHEAD! FUCK! FUCK! FUUUUUUUCCCCKKKKK!!!

*Ding* ("And we have a winnah!")

FUUUUUUUUUCCCKKK!!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS!!!! HOW THE FUCK DID THAT GUY WIN? WHAT'S SO GREAT ABOUT HIS SHIT?!! GOD DAMN IT! THIS IS RIGGED!! THIS IS RIGGED!! YOU ASSHOLES CHEATED ME!!! YOU NAZIS!!! YOU FUCKING NAZIS!!!
Abomicide6

Returning to the scene of the crime [05:51|01.30.2005|#1197]
What is THE best scotch available? I've been 21 for a few weeks and haven't taken advantage of it, and scotch is one I enjoy and one that works well with the image of the lost recluse living in the mountains, talking to bears, eating squirrel meat, playing Uno with numero uno. "The serious drinker who is not Ray Bradbury."

I'll never be much of a social drinker because BEER tastes like SLOSHED ASS FOAM. People tell me "Oh, NEW CASTLE is where it's at!" And I have to tell them that I've had New Castle, and can't really remember how it tastes, but it was involved in one of the three times alcohol has ever made me vomit: the first night I ever drank the alcohol, New Castle + Smirnoff Ice (ew) + Jack Daniels Whiskey = a mess on Shellee's porch.
Abomicide20

The Desert [04:26|01.30.2005|#1196]
music | Turkish folk songs & instrumental music

So I have these daytime hallucinations sometimes and I tease myself by pretending I just caught a fleeting glimpse of an uncollapsed probability wave. I repond to myself by proclaiming, aloud, that I saw nothing at all, and then immediately deciding this is an unhealthy attitude; how will I ever see these things if I don't believe I do, any negative attitude could stifle progress. And then I declare that, in the future, I will not deny these things I see which are probably just little microscopic crawlies on my eyelids catching the light.

Except that one time I saw a dog in projection booth. That was interesting.

At least I'm not standing around the French countryside in my dainty skinny girl battered wife outfits saying, "If I get to that road before there is oxygen touching that road, then my emo boyfriend will be dead! OH NO!" No, no; probability waves are much nerdier.

This reminds me of a bit that Patton Oswalt does about how women like Sex In The City, but they always qualify it by saying how stupid it is, they know, they know it's all bullshit, but in actuality they secretly wish their lives were like that, that they could be these rapidly aging women in the city fucking young studly acrobats. And Patton goes on saying that he doesn't walk out of the movies going, "WOW, I WISH ZOMBIES WERE REAL" deep down inside. No, he says, "It would be NICE if zombies were real" and then tangents from there. But he doesn't WISH that they were real, because he's a reasonable guy, and expending the energy requird to cover that extra ground in the WISH arena just isn't worth the heartbreak when suddenly, "Oh, no, the zombies aren't real. Damn. Oh, no, we're actually just rapidly aging women in the city whose ovaries are about two steps from the ends of their lives and despite all of our expensive attempts to lure in temporary bedroom partners who feel no emotional attachment to us whatsoever, the best we've been able to do is that Stuttering John guy from the Howard Stern show. Damn, what a bucket of suck this is."

Every time I see Garden State or Closer on anyone's "Best Films of 2004" list, it just occurs to me that these people are probably parallel to the sad Sex In The City devotees. The girls usually just go butt-fucking nuts when thrust before a film that swings a heavy "emotional" bat, and the guys all really want to just suddenly have this cute, eccentric, intelligent, but also vaguely hollow and two-dimensional instant girlfriend character to drop into their laps. And the clincher is that she even listens to SHINS, as the film very overtly points out. "What are you listening to?" "OH MY GOD THE SHINS THEY'RE LIKE THE BEST BAND EVER THE SHINS THE SHINS THE SHINS BUY THEIR ALBUMS THEY RULE HAVE YOU HEARD THEM THE SHINS I LOVE THE SHINS IF YOU DON'T LIKE THE SHINS YOU CAN'T GET INTO MY PANTS!" She hands over the headphones and he listens and of course the music just fits like a spring rain for the emotional landscape that has been established for that particular moment, and the audience goes, "whoah," and then throngs of male saps actually go out and buy and like The Shins. (We're just going to ignore that I, too, enjoy The Shins, but, OMG, I was totally into them before the movie (Pfft, yeah right).) I always wondered what the old people who saw the film thought about at that scene. Did they think this was beautiful music like all the indie rock teenagers and trendy girls pretending to be indie rock teenagers did, or did they think it was cheap and worthless like everything else that "kids" listen to, or what? What went through their minds?

And girls just like Closer because they have an addiction to retarded melodrama and they're all secretly emotional masochists who want to be thrust into a situation where they're justified in feeling, like, totally damaged. I know, okay, because I've researched this extensively.

House of Flying Daggers was like that too. Just, "oh pretty" and boys in the audience gasping and weeping, "Wow, I wish..." Which is why Hero was a better movie, even if the message comes across about as subtle as goatse.cx.

Anyway, here are some films I really liked in 2004:

Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter...And Spring
The Incredibles
Shaun of the Dead
Spartan
Fog of War
Coffee and Cigarettes
Maria Full Of Grace
Intimate Strangers
The Door in the Floor
Touching the Void
Collateral
Sideways
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban
Harold & Kumar Go To White Castle
The Aviator

And some really, really terrible films I suffered through for the good of mankind:
Alien vs. Predator
Connie & Carla
A Very Long Engagement

And two major disappointments:
Ray
I, Robot

In the Iraq elections I voted for the brown guy. Who did you vote for? I gave strong consideration to the neapolitan guy, and the orange guy definitely had some high pros, but it was the brown guy that really delivered.

Abomicide20

BLANKA SHOCK POWER [04:07|01.29.2005|#1195]
mood | degenerative brain disease

It's a flailing-about-in-the-dark situation, but there are more specific reasons for my new resolution to start moving forward than in the past. At the end of my journey I may find I've long since died, but the toil will be worth it, just to get that far.

These entries feel like high school bitching about journalism class again. "Ew." Back when it was cool to be vague and wishy-washy.

Abomicide4

Shunning the excess of elementary school recess [03:40|01.29.2005|#1194]
mood | quixotic
music | L -- Holy Letters

When I was hired at In & Out, and this was maybe sixty-three years and four months ago (give or take), the big boss figure was a quiet hispanic man named Rudy, who was very nice and direct.  The employees would tell me stories about his demonic one-eyed glare in moments if discontent or, um, drive-thru upheaval, but he was a fair and benevolent ruler.  If, for example, he were your uncle at a family barbeque (a funeral, probably), Rudy would have been someone whose table was more at ease than, say, your Aunt Susan's, because she's married to a carpenter with a bad mullet and a predilection for gambling away savings on football scores, or your father's, where the ashes of grandma were set as a centerpiece.  Rudy distanced himself from the melodrama, kept a cool head.  ("Shit, Ryan, is this post going to just ramble on until you come to the point where you say, 'I have a cool boss,' and we throw stones at you?"  Shut up, no.)

Two days after I was hired, Rudy went on to Bigger and Better In & Out Burgers, and was replaced by Tony, a fierce little man who looked like the meatball that crunched your daddy and singlehandedly led the Italian fascists to victory in World War II Episode II: The Hamburger Cook Scenario.  I didn't like Tony---I don't know why, but it may have something to do with my basic speed setting being turned to "sloth +1".  He wasn't too fond of that; of course, I wasn't too fond of playing with the potato-peeling machine or throwing out the foamy mulch of all the skins, so our time together, In & Out and I, was brief.  Five months taught me the food industry wasn't my place.

Last week I was laughed at by a boy walking around Main Street who looked almost exactly like Lampwick, the boy who befriends Pinocchio for a short while before turning into an ass and being swept up by space aliens in large cardboard boxes left over by the defunct Gateway Computers stores, while he was mid-way through his transformation.  I was carrying $1000 in quarters at the time.

My first boss with Century Theatres was Kris Graves, who died in an accident at a plastics factory and was born again in the form of a talking walnut. He works in Camarillo.

Alright, ignore the above. That's enough forcing myself to be verbose.  My current boss is awesome.  With none of my previous bosses could I talk about pirate travels in seas of grape juice (I was on a tangent in a conversation about black people) or the logistics of owning a God of Thunder, or laugh about zombie incest and zombie apocalypse and zombie fashion and zombie free-jazz, or get away with being completely honest about how I feel about the quirks of certain individuals on staff who have certain quirks worth talking about (without falling into, as it goes, "talking shit" (usually (maybe))) (ie. "Person X is the sort who would fuck nine year old girls if he knew nobody was looking, and indeed that nobody would ever be looking, and that he could toss them into a lake or tar pit afterward. I don't trust Person X.")

The only mental exercise I receive these days is music.  I'm lazy, and it's time to go back to school, because the way I see it is this:

Mr. Ryan Christopher Romo, you have two years go get awesome.  At the end of these two years, your performance will be strictly evaluated, and an extension or failing mark will then be administered by a qualified official.  My teensy attention span can be overcome.  All these terrible learned behaviours can be unlearned.  I'm 21 now, and if by roughly this time in two years I haven't started to get awesome again, blah blah blah blah blah blah blah, blah blah blah, blah. blah. blah.

You'll either be seeing more or less of me in the future.  I don't know.  You probably won't notice.

Insert gothic poetry here.  Insert Morrissey lyrics.

Oh, and by the way:



A grown man at some point realized, "You know, a life-size anime doll with gigantic anime tits would be SO FUCKING COOL!" And there was a market for it, a group of adults who agree that it's a "REALLY FUCKING COOL IDEA!", and a company that decided this was a worthwhile money-making venture, in addition to dolls who look like... well, not regular women, but at least a familiar humanoid figure.

Thanks to [info]clintiskeen for this one.  Again.
Abomicide10

Masters and Commanders [00:20|01.19.2005|#1193]
I thought you'd find this interesting, in case you haven't seen it before. Pay very close attention.

http://www.prussianblue.net


After you've finished, go here: http://www.livejournal.com/users/clintiskeen/137968.html

This is mainly directed toward the [info]musical_mangle folks.
Abomicide20

Two shot [23:33|01.18.2005|#1192]
In other news, I saw In Good Company last night. It was just mediocre, but I wasn't expecting any more from a Dennis Quaid movie. All the actors just looked really bored, and so was I. By the end of the film, my body was slumped so deeply in my seat that I was sitting next to the old people two rows up. Selma Blair was in the film, looking bored, but she got off lucky: right at the beginning she divorces a bored-looking Topher Grace and goes home with a movie paycheck. Which makes more sense because at home she's married to Ahmet Zappa, not Topher Grace (name of your great-great grandmother, by the way, in case you haven't noticed).

This doesn't mean I'm not totally crushing on Scarlett Johansson. It just means that next time I see her on the big screen I have to say "tssk, tssk" and make that "for shame!" motion with my fingers that looks like I'm trying to start a fire with two sticks.
Abomicide3

One shot [22:21|01.18.2005|#1191]
A Very Long Engagement was fucking retarded.

It was like playing "Guess which number between one and twenty!" with a drug-addled five year old.

One who wasn't even thinking of any particular number, who instead passed a few miscarried ideas about lunchmeat.

OKAY IT WORKS LIKE THIS

AMELIE GOES "Oh my boy in the war, you MUST still be alive out there somewhere because I would KNOW because you touched my boobies after we had sex and said emo boy things!" EVEN WHEN EVERYONE SAYS "No, he's fucking dead." SO SHE GOES ON AN INVESTIGATION QUEST AND GAINS EXPERIENCE POINTS FOR BEING STRONG AND BRAVE AND, AT MOMENTS, WEEPY. SHE DOES NOT FIGHT DRAGONS OR WIZARDS OR SPACE POLICE, BUT THE MOVIE INCLUDES SOME FINAL FANTASY MINI-GAMES WHERE AMELIE PLAYS WITH HERSELF BY SAYING "If I haven't died by the time the wind blows north in, um, Antarctica, MY ROMANCE-GUY is still alive!" THEN SHE GOES, "I'm still alive! He must be alive!" SHE EARNS EXP BUT NOT GP SO SHE CAN'T GO BUY SWORDS AND FIGHT DRAGONS (APPARENTLY FRANCS ARE NOT ACCEPTABLE CURRENCY IN MAGIC WEAPONS STORES), AND SHE JUST WANDERS AROUND BEING STRONG AND BRAVE AND, AT MOMENTS, WEEPY, AS THE PLOT GOES THROUGH TWISTS AND TURNS. "There were two guys and like, no, there was ONE! But then I saw your honey dead, only I DIDN'T ACTUALLY SEE HIM DIE, but here's the address to his grave, but he wasn't wearing the red mitten when we buried him so he obviously WASN'T BAKING BREAD but maybe a nurse stole it from him!" ((AMELIE MAKES A FACE AND IS STRONG AND BRAVE AND, AT MOMENTS, WEEPY IN REPLY.))

THEN THE PRIVATE INVESTIGATOR SHE HIRED AT THE BEGINNING OF THE MOVIE COMES BACK AND SAYS:

"I HAVE FOUND HIM. HE IS ALIVE! BUT HE HAS [don't laugh] AMNESIA!!!!"

AND SO AMELIE GOES TO HIM AND HE DOESN'T REMEMBER HER AND SHE STARES AT HIM AND IS STRONG AND BRAVE AND, AT MOMENTS, WEEPY. AND THE GIRLS IN THE AUDIENCE ARE NOT STRONG NOR BRAVE BUT THEY ARE DEFINITELY WEEPY.

Jodie Foster has a nice missionary-position sex scene. If you hadn't already realized, "Hey, that's Jodie Foster!" you'll probably figure it out by the legs in the sex scene. They're definitely Jodie Foster's legs. And if you don't know what Jodie Foster's legs look like, you clearly haven't seen Taxi Driver.

This film peaked before the first scene began. Really. Really. The opening credits take the cake. There's this hazy nightmarish background and Angelo Badalamenti doing what he does best: creepy-fantastic atmospheric themes. It feels for a moment like we're about to watch a French film ode to David Lynch (like, Angelo, dude), but then that fades and the movie comes in and we get to see what AMELIE would have been like without porn shops and photo booths and television and interesting women. The men are badass mustachioed war-hardened men (but still sensitive, but that sensitivity is kept reasonably in check (unlike our very, um, modern times (ie. these men would most likely say "I'm fucking you hard, Wife." whereas modern man is most likely to say "I'm not really in the mood. Let's just cuddle.")), but the women are still pussies. The "your mother wears army boots!" still cuts like a knife in A Very, Very LONG French Hollywood Tearjerker With AMELIE In It.

Imagine we flipped the perspective of The Odyssey around, so now wifey is trying to find hubby. But without the fun mythology. So instead it's just some chick running around hearing, "Sorry, but the Princess Husband is in another castle!" Then Odysseus is found and he's just sitting on a raft someplace jerking off.

NOT JUST JERKING OFF, BUT HE EVEN HAS AMNESIA!!!!

What the fuck.
Abomicide25

If only William Fried had been my advisor. [02:18|01.17.2005|#1190]
http://www.usatoday.com/news/nation/2005-01-14-stripping_x.htm

Speaker tells students that stripping is a career choice

SAN FRANCISCO (AP) — School officials in Palo Alto are reconsidering their use of a popular speaker for an annual career day after he advised middle school students that they could earn a good living as strip dancers.

William Fried told eighth-graders at Jane Lathrop Stanford Middle School that stripping and exotic dancing could be lucrative career moves for girls, offering as much as $250,000 or more per year, depending on their bust size.

"It's sick, but it's true," Fried, president of Foster City's Precision Selling, a management consulting firm, told The Associated Press. "The truth of the matter is you can earn a tremendous amount of money as an exotic dancer, if that's your desire."

The school has asked Fried to give his 55-minute presentation, "The Secret of a Happy Life," for the past three years.

Read on! )
Abomicide13

Mozart Pt. II [16:51|01.13.2005|#1189]
music | Funeral Mist -- Salvation

Why are fat people so bitter?

Abomicide38

Flamebait [02:04|01.13.2005|#1188]
music | Sun Ra -- Angels & Demons at Play / The Nubians of Plutonia

For dinner my mom and I ate at the nice seafood and steak restaurant down just off the promenade by the pier, across from the Holiday Inn, adjacent with the parking garage, under the sky, above the ground, inside the...

The food was great, but there's a type of fish I ordered that didn't take well to the dull edge of my fork, necessitating a KNIFE. So I was cutting the fish and my KNIFE dipped and dashed through the rice heap on my plate; the bits of rice that did go airborne cleared the plate, the table, but not the restaurant floor. So I was there with this ugly pile of rice beside me on the ground, like I'm a five year old boy who can't control his food (sorry, I left my remote at home), who probably stacks dairy creamers and catapults spoons into glasses with forks and, at buffets, dips the brown sugar spoon in the cool whip tub.

Whatever, I can handle that. Except: the waitresses in this restaurant are A+ FINE HOTTIES, so I'm embarrassed by the mess I've made, but not so embarrassed as I might be if I actually bent over to sweep and clear with my hands or napkin. Acknowledging the situation would be like admitting defeat when I'm content to blush belligerently in a silent war against the fallen rice grains.

A+ FINE HOTTIES. If only their sweet Ts and sweeter As were on the menu...; I plan to return to that spot for fine dining soon.

KNIFE.

With the $20 Sam Goody / Suncoast Video gift card I received this Christmas from Vanessa (coworker) I picked up Collateral. Why the hell are Sam Goody and Suncoast still in business? Who the fuck saunters to the counter and drops $26.99 for the new U2 album? The prices are at least $2 MORE on every single item there than on the Sam Goody's website. Is anyone really still afraid of ordering anything on the internet?

So I watched Spy Kids tonight.

Over the past week, I've had four people (only one in internetland) raise red flags when I ventured to promote the idea that Mozart sucks balls. His is a sacred cow long past due for slaughter. All flies and sour milk. I don't care about his prominence in the public eye, his effect on popular music over the past two hundred years, or how weepy and empowered anyone feels after seeing the Hollywood version of our dear, dear Amadeus. (I like the movie mostly because the special edition DVD cut his wife's boobies back into the film and Salieri is awesome if you imagine him secretly doubling as his Scarface character.)

His music is boring.

I don't care about music theory: people who play the theory card are usually shitheads. I don't care about playing Mozart for babies. I couldn't care less that a white guy in a Sears lab coat wearing latent insecurities about his own mental capacity declared that the structure of Mozart's music has this or that physiological effect on some people that promotes exactly the sort of ordered, symmetrical blandness that keeps middle-class America about as compelling as a Kevin Spacey movie. The people who stain their shorts about Mozart's composing and performing at such a young age are a symptom of our affliction.

Mozart wrote boring music. And I'm long past the point where I thought, "Well, you know, his REQUIEM MASS was pretty cool, I guess. Mostly." It isn't fantastic, it only dawdles and piddles about less than any of his other works. He has good pieces, but with so much written he was bound to hit something eventually.

He "is, for me, equivalent to watching a movie with only 'good guys' in it, or eating cottage cheese." (to mangle the words of the big Z a bit) Of course, what do I know? I'm a Webern fan, and I actually sat through all of For Philip Guston. Listening to Mozart doesn't make you a bad person, it just makes me leave the room, which is what you probably wanted anyhow.

To turn back to AWESOME, my mom got me the Black Sabbath box for my birthday. And some sweatpants.

Saw The Aviator yesterday. Still thinking about it.

Abomicide32

Cap'n Crunch [00:47|01.12.2005|#1187]
mood | probably boredom rising!
music | AMM

Happy Birthday, Abominari. You are 21 today.

Everyone, wish Abominari a happy birthday. May he be endowed with wond'rous gifts and may his city flush with another two weeks of heavy rain!

Abomicide37

I wouldn't live here if I couldn't tolerate the idiots, schmucks and assholes. [20:45|01.10.2005|#1186]
I wouldn't move to Florida if I couldn't accept hurricanes. I wouldn't stay in California if I didn't accept earthquakes. I wouldn't move to New York if I couldn't take the nasty weather.

I wouldn't buy a house in a valley if I wasn't prepared to accept flooding and road closures. I wouldn't build my house on the side of a fucking hill if I were prepared to complain when rain washed out the hillside and most of my home with it. I wouldn't live on Earth if I was gonna whine anytime nature stopped in for a good deep dicking.

When this shit happens, just clean up the rubble and keep going.

I hope this rain lasts until next Christmas.
Abomicide11

Merry Christmas Tomorrow [15:24|12.24.2004|#1185]


take the "what's your dark secret?" quiz
| courtesy of mewing.net. where darkness and secrecy abound.


I would, too.

You know, if my wife and I (we're talking the fantastical future mate, here) were to give birth to a child with Treacher Collins syndrome, I'd probably sell it to Saturday Night Live or the Trinity Broadcasting Network or something. Money is short, you know.
Abomicide6

63 [02:27|12.21.2004|#1184]
Happy Birthday, Frank Zappa.
Abomicide6

Tales from the Crypt [04:08|12.18.2004|#1183]
http://www.kansascity.com/mld/kansascity/news/special_packages/election2004/10434614.htm?1c

My dad took me and my brother to the Crystal Cathedral one year, long ago, to see "The Miracle of Christmas". Along with us came a woman named Rachel, a nice ugly old boring red-head who worked at a church here in Ventura---the church my dad dragged us to every Sunday.

At one point in "The Miracle of Christmas", which had production values through the fucking roof, there's a procession of camels. Around this time my brother and I (and my dad) noticed a certain familiar foul odor of stale back-end air leakage, and around this time Rachel went to use the ladies room. My brother took advantage of her absence by leaning over my dad to me and saying, "RACHEL FARTED!" The three of us laughed. She came back, we watched the rest of the play and went home, where we beat the "Rachel farted!" joke to death; for a few months, in fact, we regularly beat that "Rachel farted!" joke to death, though my dad repeatedly claimed that it was just one of the camels.

My dad didn't find it as funny as we did for more than a few days, but I think he was embarrassed about the whole thing because we didn't see much of Rachel after that.

And that's what I think about every time the subject of the Crystal Cathedral comes up.

Just a little inanity to start your day.
Abomicide10

FANDANGO [21:44|12.14.2004|#1182]
music | Yabby You -- Dub it to the Top

By a fluke in the fabric of Creation, shoddy stitchwork near some of the patchwork crescent islands and dub-soaked nocturnal jungle parties, I have found myself owning three copies of Biosphere's Substrata / Man With A Movie Camera. This album is fantastic to the highest power multiplied by uhnth, but listening to the other two won't sound any different than the one. One is enough, two is two few, three is too fucking many.

Merry Christmas?

Maybe one of the two copies can become one of those hobo-chang-ba discs that gets passed from person by way of a strategically-applied note and careful placement in places where people are almost guaranteed to pick it up and wonder.... "Dear sir or madam, you have happened upon this disc not by chance, but by fate, and you are suggested to pick it up, take it home, and give it a whirl. If you should enjoy it, I say please, please, tempt yourself with the same long and arduous journey into the world of music many have taken and are now taking even without pants on, and take it upon yourself to seek good music. We have filesharing, via the internet. We have mailorder from all around the world, via the internet. We have independent record stores and for those with some extra change the instruments themselves are available from music stores and probably garages. If you love this disc, or if you hate this disc, do whatever you like on the follow-up, but please be kind enough to carefully pass this on to someone else who may enjoy it."

At the very least, I can pass it around the few people I know in Ventura whose taste in music is less than awesome but firmly on the bulls-eye of "promising". Sean might like it, maybe.

This reminds me that I still need to buy a new copy of Selected Ambient Works Volume II since Kat took mine a few years ago.

EDIT #2: You know, I'm really happy to see that Matt Waldron (the man behind the music of irr.app.(ext.)) has been getting a bit more attention lately in the circles where people are interested in paying attention to this sort of thing. I've always been a big fan of his stuff (ALWAYS, LIEK EVEN B_FORE I WAS BOURNE), and you'd be surprised how fantastic Dust Pincher Appliances sounds at night on a train to Oakland----but I'll always favor Ozeanische Gefühle. Probably. It would kick hot ass if I could get ahold of the CDR releases, but whatever. Highly recommended to everyone, even if four of you, tops, aside from the Mangleodactyls, would ever like Waldron's music.

Abomicide19

I would've been meaner [17:13|12.01.2004|#1180]
I only just found this.

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=abominari
Abomicide33

The doors have closed on Ol' Dirty Chinese Restaurant [04:49|11.14.2004|#1177]


Ol' Dirty Bastard: 1968-2004
He would have been 36 on Monday. In his 35 years, ODB (aka Big Baby Jesus, aka Dirt McGirt, aka Osirus, aka Old Dirty Bastard, aka Ol' Dirty Chinese Restaurant, aka Dirt Dogg, aka Cyrus, aka Unique Ason; real name Russell Tyrone Jones) reportedly fathered as many as 13 children.


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There's No Lust In Jazz [20:01|11.05.2004|#1174]
Ryan was killed this afternoon when his Amtrak train de-railed just outside of Salinas, so here's a picture of Monica Bellucci:

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The Day Before Tomorrow [00:57|11.04.2004|#1173]
The first of the performances by Norwegian artists I've come to San Francisco to see was this evening. The performers were both veterans of Norway's Rune Grammofon label : Arve Henriksen and Maja Ratkje.

Pocketed for penicillin. )
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A Meme Stolen from Brian, as these Meme Things Go; action-packed response [14:36|09.24.2004|#1158]
1. Think of a word you would use to describe me.
2. Go to Google Image Search and search for that word.
3. Select the picture you see as most fitting, and post it as a reply.

AND!

Recommend to me:
One Book,
One Film,
One Comic Book (optional, if you don't like them), and
One CD.
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