Thursday, March 31, 2005

alex chilton

If you know the words, sing along:


Alex Chilton - The Replacements


If he was from Venus, would he feed us with a spoon?
If he was from Mars, wouldn't that be cool?
Standing right on campus, would he stamp us in a file?
Hangin' down in Memphis all the while.

Children by the million sing for Alex Chilton when he comes 'round
They sing "I'm in love. What's that song?
I'm in love with that song."

Cerebral rape and pillage in a village of his choice.
Invisible man who can sing in a visible voice.
Feeling like a hundred bucks, exchanging good lucks face to face.
Checkin' his stash by the trash at St. Mark's place.

Children by the million sing for Alex Chilton when he comes 'round
They sing "I'm in love. What's that song?
I'm in love with that song."

I never travel far, without a little Big Star

Runnin' 'round the house, Mickey Mouse and the Tarot cards.
Falling asleep with a flop pop video on.
If he was from Venus, would he meet us on the moon?
If he died in Memphis, then that'd be cool, babe.

Children by the million sing for Alex Chilton when he comes 'round
They sing "I'm in love. What's that song?
I'm in love with that song."


It really only works if you know who Alex Chilton is.

If you don't, for God's sake, Google him and then make the trip to Amazon for some Big Star records.


Wednesday, March 30, 2005


(Note: I was going to post this yesterday, but Blogger freaked out on me.)

You ever hear someone talk, or see something they write, and then you see a picture of them much later on, and realize they look nothing like what they sound like to you, the picture you had in your head?

Happens to me all the time.

But you know what's weird?

When they describe how they want to look, it almost exactly coincides with the description I had in my head.

I guess it's just more proof that the real "you" has more to do with how you think and how you act than how you look.

I have this weird ability to read people. I can decipher almost every important detail about you from a five-minute exchange. It serves me well for the most part, but sometimes it backfires, like all of my endeavors.

I can tell when something's "not right" with somebody, and generally avoid the prickly subject.

Then, there's times when I stumble around the elephant in the room so much it only draws attention to it.

I seem to do that a lot, at least this week.

Serves me right for going on intuition rather than fact.

Logic prevails over the abyss, but only when logic is conscious of the fact that it is still part of the chaos.

Monday, March 28, 2005

exceeding randomness

I updated my linklist, and put a link ot my Launch station.

Fair warning, Tone Loc and Gram Parsons get equal airtime.

I also linked to my Xanga account, but, again, don't expect any updates to it. However, you should probably subscribe just in case.

I'm tired, so you don't get a full update. Don't worry, be happy with what you get.

What you do get is a random entry from Fact Index, which is the best encyclopedia since the Uncyclopedia.



Bazooka was first the name of a musical instrument, and later also that of an anti-tank weapon and a brand of chewing gum.

The bazooka is a folk musical instrument, a rather primitive version of a trombone, usually with a lower but less wide range. From the mouthpiece the air chamber goes into wide lengths of pipe of sizes so that the wider diameter pipe can slide around the narrower one, lengthening or shortening the instrument to change the pitch. The bazooka was popularized in the 1930s by radio comedian Bob Burns, who may have invented the instrument some 20 years earlier. The bazooka was also played by jazz musician Noone Johnson.

The bazooka has sometimes been confused with a different novelty instrument, the kazoo; kazoos have sometimes been referred to as "bazookas", especially in British English.

The bazooka weapon was one of the first anti-tank weapons based on the HEAT shell to enter service, used by the United States Armed Forces in World War II. It was nicknamed a "bazooka" from a vague resemblance to the musical instrument. It was highly effective, so much so that the Germans copied it outright to produce their own version known as the Panzerschreck. The bazooka could be found in all theatres of war during World War II, and was used until the Korean War when it was then replaced by newer weapons such as the LAW in time for the Vietnam War.

Prior to the war the US Army had developed a shaped-charge hand grenade for anti-tank use that was effective at defeating up to 100mm of armor, by far the best such weapon in the world at the time. However it remained very difficult to use, requiring it to be placed directly on the tank, and for this reason it was largely ignored.

Things changed when Colonel Skinner suggested placing the grenade on the front of his experimental rocket launcher, which was a weapon looking for a role. This proved to be a good match, and by late 1942 the Rocket Launcher, M1A1 was introduced. This consisted of a long (4ft) tube with a simple wooden stock and sights, into which the 60mm rocket grenades were inserted at the rear. A small battery provided a charge to ignite the rocket when the trigger was pulled. The main drawback to the weapon was the large backblast and smoke trail which gave away the position of the shooter.

In 1944 the M1A1 model was supplemented by the improved M9 and then the M9A1 which could be broken into two halves for easier carrying. A larger 3.5lb warhead was under development, but didn't reach service until after the war had ended. By the time of the Korean War an even larger M20 with a 2lb 3.5" warhead was starting to enter service, which could penetrate well over 200mm of armor and had an extended range of about 150m.

During World War II, The Topps Company marketed a brand of bubblegum under the name Bazooka. The gum was packaged in a patriotic red, white, and blue color scheme, although Topps claims that it took the name from the instrument, not the weapon. Beginning in 1953, Topps changed the packaging to include small comic strips with the gum, featuring the character "Bazooka Joe".


Enjoy. Have fun today.

Sunday, March 27, 2005

two princes

Two things:

1. I put up a Craigslist posting which adverised the site, so if there's a huge influx in visitors, you know why.

2. Tracy Smothers has a website. Go to to enjoy the Southern Comfort stylings of possibly the greatest redneck wrestler ever. And that covers a lot of ground.

Also, congratulations are in order to Twiggy and Heath, among others, who got into UGA.

Twiggs worked extremely hard to get accepted (I know, I saw her struggle with the essays in particular and the stress of the application process in general).

Heath wasn't all that worried, or at least he didn't show it. Hopefully his week turns around after this.

And in closing, I can't promise alcohol at the party, mainly becasue I'm broke and underage. However, BYOB rules are in effect, and if you bring it, you can drink it. Just be discreet if you're not yet 00010101.

Binary. God, I am a geek.

Speaking of God, today is the one holiday that most Christians don't go overboard in celebrating, and it's the one they really should.

Please celebrate if you're a Christian, and I don't mean eggs and baskets. Think about what the REAL story is. Greatest story ever told, and all that.

Don't do it for me. Do it for Him.

Friday, March 25, 2005

easy as 1-2-3

A - Age: 18
B - Band Listening To Right Now: Black Sabbath
C - Crush: None at the moment
D - Dad's Name: Steve
E - Easiest Person To Talk To: King Ad-Rock, maybe Ferrellcito
F - Favorite Band At The Moment: Fountains of Wayne
G - Gummy Bears Or Gummy Worms: Da Bears
H - Hometown: Statham, GA
I - Instruments: mandolin, guitar, drums, keyboards, I can go on...
J - Japanese Animation: The Centurions
K - Kids: None I claim
L - Longest Car Ride Ever: Tybee Island
M - Mom's Name: Lynn
N - Number Of Siblings: Zero
O - One Wish: Satisfaction
P - Phobias: Failure. Success.
Q - Favorite Quote (of the moment): "Please don't let me be misunderstood"
R - Reason To Smile: The existence of women
S - Song You Sang Last: "Karma Chameleon" - Culture Club
T - Time You Wake Up: Weekdays - 6:30 AM. Weekends - 10:00 AM
U - Unknown Fact About Me: Always wanted to be a dancer in Vegas
V - Vegetable You Hate: Are mushrooms vegetables? No? Lettuce, then.
W - Worst Habit(s): Procrastination. Sloth. Pai Gow Poker.
X - X-Rays You've Had: Teeth, right hand, chest, head.
Y - Yummy Food: Too sick to think of food.
Z - Zodiac Sign: Capricorn.

There you have it. MEME~!

garden party

Sorry for the lack of updates yesterday. But I make up for it with a doubleshot of information today.

Guess what I learned last night?

I'm allergic to mushrooms. Not the fun ones that begin with "psilo-", but the normal ones with names like "shiitake".

At the Regional STAR Student thing last night, they served roast beef with a mushroom sauce. Somehow, I'd gone eighteen years without eating a mushroom, mainly because my dad is violently allergic to them.

We always assumed I was allergic, but we never chanced it until last night. It was the only thing on the menu, so I had to eat it.

I had eaten maybe 2 ounces when I realized something wasn't right in the old digestive tract, so I stopped eating. Good idea on my part.

I woke up this morning ready to blow.

Chunks, that is.

I sleepwalked through a shower, then almost threw-up as soon as I got out.

Did I mention that my throat was so swollen I could barely breathe?

I crawled back into bed, trying not to throw up again. There's my day in a nutshell.

So anyways, how was your day?

I got some interesting news today. Seems that my grandparents want me to have a graduation party, which they will pay for. I'm not exactly a big partier, so it took some thinking on my part to decide on a plan.

Here goes: Two or three weeks after graduation, we all meet up at Fort Yargo and waste the better part of a day while eating the requisite hamburgers and hotdogs, plus some fried chicken (homemade, of course. My grandmother is Iron Chef Soul Food) and other picnic stuff.

I'm thinking June 4th would be a good day, since it's far enough away from graduation that everybody can get back from Cancun or Florida or Alcatraz or whatever, plus it's a Saturday and maybe no one will have anything else going on.

Email me if you're interested. Anyone within the sound of my voice (online, that is,) is invited. If need be, I'll give you my phone number to get in touch with me about the party and/or do a drunken dial.

The date is very flexible, if a majority of people I want to be there can't make it.

Yes, some family will be there, but most will stay maybe 15-30 minutes and then leave. The cool ones will stick around.

Most importantly, if you're a guy, you gotta bring a girl. Or at least attempt to get a girl to come with you. Joey gets an exemption.

I kid, I kid. Mostly.

RSVP or whatever. Sorry, but I doubt anybody in the IWC (internet wrestling community) will come down here to poor podunk Barrow County. Yes, that can be interpreted as a challenge. I dare you to come down here and see what a truly pathetic geek I am.

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

radar love

You know how I said I wasn't going to update any more today?

Don't you know me well enough to know that I'm a liar?

Apparently, you know me better than you think. Nobody's scored less than passing on the "Do You Know Your Friend" test.

Granted, at the time I'm writing this, only two people have taken the quiz.

Pagey is the early leader with a whopping 80% correct. There will be a prize for people who score 100% on their first try.

Ask Kate, my prizes are great. And semi-legal!

The entire graduating class has been stricken with a vindictive case of senioritis. No one has any energy left for those silly "assignments".

Case in point, I should be writing a report on the Romantic period of literature right now, but I'm so bored with the entire concept of school at this point that I don't have the energy.

Yet I have the energy to write this. Strange.

Right now, I'm listening to one of my dad's old 70's hit compilations. The last songs played, in order:
  1. "Bennie and the Jets" by Elton John
  2. "Long Cool Woman (in a Black Dress)" by the Hollies
  3. "Radar Love (Extended Version)" by Golden Earring
  4. "Baby Please Don't Go" by the Amboy Dukes

Yes, voluntarily. I happen to like most of those.

Of course, I like nearly all kinds of music. From polka to power-pop to merengue to mazurkas, I'll listen to it.

I really need to get a treatment written, for a book or screenplay or something.

Here's my idea: A day in the life of a dingy bar. The central plot point is a murder gone wrong (my absolute favorite plot convention of all). The characters drive the entire thing, and it's non-linear. All of the action takes place inside the bar, save for a couple flashbacks. The main character is a normal guy, an accountant or some such white-collar menial job, who gets caught in a shitty situation. The story takes place in a single day, mostly in the span of eighty or ninety minutes.

It's not a mystery, as the villain will be revealed quite early. It's more of a character portrait, one of those "how does the ordinary man react to extraordinary circumstances" deals.

Anyway, I'm rambling. Comments welcomed, flames mostly ignored. Later, everybody.

general laziness

Thanks to CageyPagey, I dont have to actually write an update today! Oh Joy!

Take my Quiz on!

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

ultra mega mass homicide

I did a huge update on the links list on the side bar. Everybody enjoy.

I'm debating whether to do the new hip thing, which is to get a account. Currently, I spend too much time on this to worry about it, but I can see the appeal of it. If I do it, it'll be a token thing where I just link to here, like my Xanga account.

Although, my Xanga account is really more valuable for just annoying other people in the Winder Cult blogring under assumed usernames.

That reminds me, I need to talk to Helen again. She seems nice. A little overbearing, but nice.

I'm right now going through Launch and rating as many things as humanly possible, in an attempt to achieve the highest user rating possible. I've already got something like 2,800 ratings, and I need to hit 5,000 to get the next rating. I figured out the easiest way to do this is to find artists with a ton of albums, like The Beatles, and rating every single one of the albums one star. If they get played, I'll change the rating accordingly, but whatever.

Man, graduation testing is the absolute best. I get to spend over two hours in my first period, where I'm so ahead it's not funny. I'm literally half a quarter ahead. I could be done in two weeks if I wanted to be, but that's no fun. Instead, I'm just working an average of three out of five days, and not very hard then.

Want to know a scary thought? I applied for a job at the Statham Public Library. If I get hired, I'll be management starting out, and I'll get to set my own hours.

The best part of the job? Story time in the summer. I get to read to a bunch of kids out of a children's book, and act out all the little voices.

In the words of Banky, "I think I want kids of my own one day. They're fun."

However, in the interest of keeping my job, I won't be showing them "...And then Black Beauty couldn't take it any longer, and he finally did some of his own mounting."

And on that note, we exit. Who doesn't love a little bit of beastiality in the morning?

Monday, March 21, 2005

hit the music

I have an obsession.

I love theme music.

It's one of my favorite parts of getting a new tape of an indy fed. I get to hear what kind of weird music the guys come out to.

If I ever get up there, I know I couldn't settle for just one theme. I'd have to have separate themes for separate occasions, you know?

For example:

standard theme: "Wild Thing" by Tone Loc

"serious" theme: "Children of the Grave" by Black Sabbath

"crazy" theme: undecided, but leaning towards "Bear Witness" by Dr. Octagon.

Honestly, it changes every day.

I also like "Distorto de Melodica" by Everclear as a good theme.

"Apostrophe" by Frank Zappa.

"Let's Go" by Trick Daddy w/ Lil Jon (which may be the best song EVER).

"Going the Distance" by Cake.

"Tubthumping" by Chumbawamba. (They made me buy their album, I should at least get some good use out of it.)

I've got a million of them.

Also, I'm gonna write for Essence. They pay twice what other mags of similar content pay.

I still need a psuedonym, though. Email me with suggestions.


Sunday, March 20, 2005

paperback writer

I was wrong. I now know where the real money in freelance writing is:

Bridal magazines.

These people pay TWO DOLLARS A WORD. For comparison, most places pay around 10 cents a word. Granted, the bridal mags only come out four times a year, but if you could work for all of them, you wouldn't have to have another job. $2000 a pop ain't bad money.

I finished my project for drama, which was to read a screenplay, make a poster, and do a three to five minute presentation. I picked an easy one: "Chasing Amy".

See, I love Kevin Smith movies. They have the one thing that is missing from most other movies in a similar vein: realistic dialogue. My friends talk like that. We have the snappy, back-and-forth banter that Dante and Randal have, or Banky and Holden have.

I could have done a monologue instead of a poster, but that would have required a lot of extra work. Granted, there are two kick-ass pieces in "Chasing Amy", namely Holden's speech to Alyssa in the car and Bob's Amy story, but I didn't want to have to memorize anything.

I can't decide whether to write a bunch of short stories or do one mid-sized novel for my first attempt at getting published. I'm better at writing shorts, but almost all of my ideas could be fleshed out to either novels or screenplays.

I've been reading a ton of screenplays lately, fished off of the internet. So far, my favorite scripts are "The Breakfast Club" and, of course, "Chasing Amy". I've got maybe three dozen sitting in My Documents right now, waiting to be read.

My only problem with writing screenplays is that I get way too attached to my characters, and I couldn't hand a script over to the director and let him have his perspective on it put up on the screen.

Maybe I should just stick to comic books. Although, it's hard enough to get a job writing novels or short stories. It's insanely hard getting your foot in the door at a decent comics company (DC or Marvel).

Or maybe I should just panhandle. I hear the benefits suck, but the hours are great.

Saturday, March 19, 2005

mystery tour

Hello there. Guess what?


Contest time again. Five songs, one common theme. I'll pick an obscure portion of the song, you go Google it.

To win, I need all five artists, all five titles, and the common theme.

Another lonely day, another lonely night
Here we go again out of touch and out of sight
This is the story of a boy meeting a girl
Lost and alone in a great brave world
Lonely downhearted feeling the pain
I never thought I could be this way
It doesn't matter what you say
It doesn't matter what you do

Saw you last night
Dance by the light of the moon
Stars in your eyes
Free from the life that you knew
Saw you last night
Stars in the sky
Smiled in my room

Summer turns me upside down
Summer summer summer
It's like a merry-go-round
I see you under the midnight
All shackles and bows

I'm a party babe, I don't want to change
I can love you as I am, please don't go away
I'm a party babe, you can love me back
Love me hate me I don't care, just believe in me

When I sleep
I slide into
Some heaven
But no one is there.

If nobody gets this one, I give up.

If I made it any easier, I'd just have to give you the prizes now.

And I promise fabulous prizes. Perhaps with more than negligible monetary value.

Get to Googlin'.


Everybody randomly send me stuff. Email me for my address. I assure you I will reciprocate.

I picked up two books today from the SciAm book club, the Writer's Handbook 2005 and a book on C++ that will most likely never be put to use. But, my membership requirement is done, so it's all good.

I realize now that, with a teacher's salary what it is, I'm going to need to pick up some money on the side, and there is only one possible solution:

Writing trashy romance novels.

Help me think of a pseudonym for the Harlequin and True Romance bylines. Email me your best suggestions.

But seriously, in the Writer's Handbook, there's a listing for the rates these magazines pay, and the money's really not too shabby. What's odd is that Penthouse (with a circulation of 641,100) pays more than Playboy (with a circulation of 3,213,200). You learn the weirdest things in books.

Also, Penthouse describes itself as for "the sophisticated male", while Playboy advertises for the "urban male".

Sadly, there are no listings for Hustler, Juggs, or Big'Uns.

I have to perfect my form:


Dear Penthouse Forum,

You'll never believe this. I was stranded roadside in the desert when all of a sudden a tour bus filled with young nubile college gymnasts picked me up. Luckily, in my job as whipped cream deliveryman, my truck was stocked with all the necessary supplies for the wildest three days of my life...


Nah. Too realistic.

Later, everybody. Leave comments or tags, or I stop updating every day.

Friday, March 18, 2005

breaking my back

just to know your name.

Listen to the remix, not the original. It's so much better.

It's rare that a remix is better than the original, at least in the rock world. Rap is a completely different animal.

There are only a few remixes that I like better than the original: the above mentioned one, the Cure's [closet remix] of "Close To You", and a couple more on "Galore" that take the beat and add a little something to it that alters it to make it more danceable.

Generally, I don't like wholesale remixes, like the Killers one or pretty much any Paul Van Dyk mix. I like to hear the song that it's supposed to be, if that makes any sense.

Personally, if I make a mix or a mash, I'll take the song I want to mix to start with, then add one instrument, be it a bassline or a drum beat, from the "donor" song, then adjust the tempo, and repeat till I have no more than three instruments from the donor and all of the instrumentation from the original.

I don't subtract, I add.

Then again, minimalist mixes can be good, too. If you stripped Sabath down to a bassline and a drumbeat, it would still sound good.

As long as you added more tambourine.

Enough for now, more later.

Thursday, March 17, 2005

while my DJ revolves it

Man, Vanilla Ice is the great lost rapper of the 90's...

Aw, even I can't keep a straight face with that one. Ice sucked, save for a knack for good samples.

Anything Ice did, the Beasties did before with a sense of humor. Plus, MixMaster Mike made better beats overall.

"Slice like a ninja, cut like a razorblade." That's poetry right there.

What's weird is that if you printed it up in a folio edition, you could probably get at least one college to put it in the curriculum as part of their "Radical American Poets of the Late 20th Century" course.

I firmly believe that most poetry of the past 100 years is an elaborate joke. I know I couldn't write "The Red Wheelbarrow" without a smirk on my face.

We spent three days analyzing that stupid three-stanza poem. Why?

Shirts are available, just let me get them printed off and packaged. Email me for prices and other inquiries. Ideas can be submitted to the usual place.

More shirt ideas:

Picture: Rhino

Underneath: "Grrr..."

It's esoteric. Maybe you wouldn't understand.

Picture: A man kicking a donkey

Underneath: "Don't Kick My Ass"

I'm stretching now. More later.

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

tebucky jones

I wish I had a name half as cool as Tebucky Jones,

But no, I have to be named for my dad, who in turn was named for a semi-obscure American composer.

I swear, I'm naming my kids Dave or Jim. No hyphens, apostrophes or other such bullshit. Just Dave or Jim. Maybe Bob. Perhaps John. Possibly Alan.

My xanga is all set up, so visit me there.

Expect absolutely no new content there.

At all.

I was thinking of having T-shirts made up through, but I won't do it if there's not enough demand. If anybody really wants one, I can get Rhino to do it, or I can do it myself.

I've got a couple of designs in mind:

The first is obvious, just the logo of the site on the front, and on the back the slogan "Represent, bitches."

The second is a picture of Mascarita Sagrada, the de-facto mascot of the site, and underneath it would say either "midget pimp" or "short guys get all the chicks".

The third is a pic of a pair of Lucha masks, and underneath it says in an old-school tattoo banner, "lucha libre por siempre".

The fourth is a picture of my face with the words "chick magnet" underneath.

The fifth is a picture of Joey with, written underneath, "fan of yodeling".

I've got a million of them, but they won't get made if there's no demand. Place your orders now! Supplies are limited!

Seriously, if you want an official Suplexmasta shirt, speak now. I may never be this motivated again.

Tuesday, March 15, 2005

standing quiet in the rain

A picture is somehow truer than real vision.

Photographs capture a moment in time, or more to the point, the space between moments.

The space between...

Sounds like a bad album title.

Anyway, a picture will stop time at that one particular instant, freeze it, and capture it forever.

But that's not how it's meant to be.

We're supposed to live in the moment, not in the spaces between them.

Humans are designed to focus on the big picture. We're not good at thousands of details; our feeble minds fall apart when confronted with such. We can't comprehend something just being in existence for one split-second. We depend on the constant input of a stream to make our decisions. We can see a million things happen at once and grasp it, but we can't isolate it and analyze it from an outsider's point of view.

Take a rose. It's constantly growing, whether it's alive or dead. It's either enlarging from it's life or shrinking from decay at all times. When we see a picture of a rose, it freaks us out for a second. It knocks us off course.

It should be moving. Imperceptibly, to the conscious mind, but it's there.

People are the same. I can look at a picture of a person, and it rings false to me. Something's not right.

It's not the lighting or the focus. It's not the shutter speed or the exposure time.

It's not moving.

It's too real. It's stopped, and things in the real world don't stop. They may look like it for a moment, but truly, they're active.

Pictures freeze time like a pause button gone mad. Did you ever notice that when you watch a movie and have to pause it, the picture doesn't look right? The illusion of motion that makes a movie relies on the spaces between. If you make them small enough (say, one-thirtieth of a second), you don't realize it. If you expand them, with a pause button like a camera, it doesn't look right. Something doesn't click.



Like so many flashbulbs in a frenzy of light, isolating the spectre from the ether, confining the image to the film like a trapped demon in a reliquary.

Pictures are too real. They tell too much for too little.

Pictures lie.


Marty Jannetty.

Marty F'n Jannetty.

AND Jake the Snake.

Who's next? Rick Martel?

Actually, that would be good. I'd watch.

(It makes me proud to be from Georgia that the crowd popped like mad for Jake. Plus, they started chanting "DDT". Fantastic.)

Maybe they should bring back the Heavenly Bodies?

Tommy Motherfucking Rich?

Monday, March 14, 2005

brief interlude

There. I'm back. Bennie Ben had to use Perry's comp, so I wrapped that last one up.

Anyway, here's the entire lyrics to "Mmmbop". Enjoy.


You have so many relationships in this life,
But only one or two will last.
You go through all the pain and strife,
Then you turn your back and they're gone so fast.

Oh yeah. They're gone so fast.

Oh, so hold on to the ones who really care,
In the end they'll be the only ones there.
When you get old and start losing your hair,
Can you tell me who will still care?
Can you tell me who will still care? Oh care.

MMMBop, ba duba dop ba do bop,
Ba duba dop ba do bop,
Ba duba dop ba do. Oh yeah,
MMMBop ba duba dop ba do bop,
Ba duba dop ba do bop,
Ba duba dop ba do

Oh yeah, in an MMMBop they're gone. Yeah.

Plant a seed, plant a flower,
Plant a rose, you can plant any one of those
Keep planting to find out which one grows.
It's a secret no one knows.
It's a secret no one knows.
Oh, no one knows.

MMMBop, ba duba dop ba do bop,
Ba duba dop ba do bop,
Ba duba dop ba do. Oh yeah,
MMMBop ba duba dop ba do bop,
Ba duba dop ba do bop,
Ba duba dop ba do

MMMBop, ba duba dop ba do bop,
Ba duba dop ba do bop,
Ba duba dop ba do. Oh yeah,
MMMBop ba duba dop ba do bop,
Ba duba dop ba do bop,
Ba duba dop ba do


Dammit, that's freakin' beautiful.

I think I might cry.

By the way, Taylor Hanson is 22 today.

I feel old.

The girl in Hanson is old enough to rent a car. Damn.

Later, compadres.

where's the love

Listening to the radio this morning, I realized that Hanson is the great lost band of the 90's.

Try to deny the power of "Mmmbop". Try. I dare you.

Maybe it's the Dust Brothers production, since they could make Joey into a pop sensation, but the song is the most infectious thing since Ebola.

In my continuing saga of trying to post more frequently, I did not get to watch the TNA PPV, but I did see the pre-show.

The Kid Kash-Lance Hoyt/Cassidy O'Reilly-Jerrelle Clark match was absolutely fantastic.

More later.

Sunday, March 13, 2005

living after midnight

I've officially been bugged for more content, so send me stuff to try out, review, listen to, watch, or whatever. Email me for my home address, or, if its a website, send it to me there.

Anything larger than a meg needs to be saved on a CD or floppy and mailed to me. Stupid dial-up.

I'm now in the directory for Georgia ministers on the ULC website. I will do weddings (already had a serious offer to do one), funerals, baptisms, confessions (already accepted two), and even bar mitzvahs. Luckily, I know enough Hebrew to fake my way through the ceremony.

The only religious rite I'm not legally allowed to perform is a circumcision, as you need a separate license to perform surgery like that. Personally, I'm thankful that I can't do circumcisions, because that's a lot of pressure. Suppose I slip and make the kid a eunuch?

I'm thisclose to inquiring about getting my own cable access show. I've got a crew lined up consisting of me, Joey, and the ever-lovin' blue-eyed Pitts. We'll do the classic televangelism show, complete with me doing my best Benny Hinn impression.

Or is that Benny Hill? Whichever's funnier.

I think we could raise some serious money, what with the religious climate of Winder being as it is. There's a lot of disillusioned people with money to spend and faith to spare. I could really do some good with a ministry like that.

As an aside, Rhino's convinced I'm going to hell for this one. I think as long as I'm not trying to hurt anyone, I'm okay. And if someone donates money to me, I'd feel too bad to keep any of it. The money would arrive in unmarked envelopes to a variety of local and national charities.

Minus shipping and handling, of course.

I kid, I kid. I kid because I love.

I've almost converted all of my CDs to my hard drive. Takes up a little more than 5 GB, which isn't bad considering I've got something like 150 CD's in my personal collection.

I also realized how many novelty records I buy. I've got four separate Simpsons soundtracks.

Three groups are tied for most albums I own, Everclear, Barenaked Ladies, and the Beatles.

When you go through all your CD's you come across songs you didn't remember you liked. I present to you Black Sabbath's "Children of the Grave", which will be my "smashing machine" theme music if I ever bite the bullet and get trained as a wrassler.

Joey's theme music? "The Other Side of Midnight" by Uriah Heep.

And Rhino?

"Tubthumping" by Chumbawamba.

Yeah, I'm embarrassed by that one too. I actually bought that one unironically. We all make mistakes when we're young.

Well, I've admitted the worst album in my collection. Any volunteers want to name their worst purchase? Leave a tag or a comment.

Adios, muchachos.

Saturday, March 12, 2005

you're it

I installed the TagBoard on the sidebar. If you can't see it, put the scotch down and get help. It's right next to this, for crying out loud. I'll work on the code so it's not as obtrusive.

Also, a lot of people in Winder have Xanga blogs.

And they suck out loud.

That's right, I said it.

I'm not talking about KR or JS, although JS's background pic and music have got to go. I'm talking about other people somehow linked off of various sites. Not to mention any screennames, but garedneck016 comes to mind, no matter how much I like him personally. Hprice87 is also bad. Somebody sign these people up for HTML design classes. And Xanga sucks as far as customization. Blogger's not the greatest, but it's miles ahead of Xanga.

Also, There is a new fed starting up in McDonough, and I want to be a part of it so bad. I'd be a great gopher. Deep South Wrestling, run by Jody Hamilton. Be there or be square.

And I look to the side and see I already have a TB anonymous user. Creepy, yet erotic.

More later, possibly.

Wednesday, March 09, 2005

soul man

I now wish to be addressed as Reverend Steve.

I am now an ordained minister of the Universal Life Church of Modesto, California.

My religious preference seems to be, according to's Belief-O-Matic,

1. Orthodox Quaker (100%)
2. Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestants (93%)
3. Mainline to Conservative Christian/Protestant (88%)
4. Eastern Orthodox (84%)
5. Roman Catholic (84%)
6. Seventh Day Adventist (79%)
7. Liberal Quakers (77%)
8. Unitarian Universalism (63%)
9. Hinduism (62%)
10. Islam (61%)
11. Orthodox Judaism (61%)
12. Bahá'í Faith (56%)
13. Reform Judaism (53%)
14. Mahayana Buddhism (51%)
15. Sikhism (50%)
16. Theravada Buddhism (50%)
17. Jainism (43%)
18. Neo-Pagan (41%)
19. Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons) (41%)
20. Jehovah's Witness (41%)
21. New Age (40%)
22. New Thought (35%)
23. Scientology (33%)
24. Secular Humanism (33%)
25. Christian Science (Church of Christ, Scientist) (28%)
26. Taoism (26%)
27. Nontheist (24%)

Who knew that Richard Nixon and I had something in common, besides the nickname "Tricky Dick"?

What's weird is I was raised Baptist, but I really don't agree with a lot of the dogma they put on you. I'm not a big fan of dogma in any form, though.

I actually do sympathize with the ULC's point of view: your religion is your business, and try to do what's right.

That's it. Simple, right?

Saturday, March 05, 2005


Here is all the handicapped pro-wrestling goodness you need.

Click and prepare to go to hell.

(Warning, long load time for 56k users.)

Thursday, March 03, 2005

stop-gap measures

Song day. Hold you applause.


Neil Young/Pixies - "Winterlong"

I waited for you, Winterlong
You seem to be where I belong.
It's all illusion anyway.

If things should ever turn out wrong
And all the love we have is gone,
It won't be easy on that day.

Waiting to follow
Through the dreamlight of your way
Is not so easy for me now.

Half the time has passed away
Things we thought of yesterday
Come back now, come back now.

Waiting to follow
Through the dreamlight of your way
Is not so easy for me now.

Half the time has passed away
Things we thought of yesterday
Come back now, come back now.

I waited for you Winterlong
You seem to be where I belong.


Fountains of Wayne - "Troubled Times"

When you think you've found something worth holding onto
Were you reaching for attention, hoping she would notice you
Collecting bottles and thrown-away cans
Like she was returnable
One day would refill your hands
How she loved you, all you imagined
Fit so well into your plans
Maybe one day soon
It'll all come out
How you dream about each other sometimes
With a memory of
How you once gave up
But you made it through the troubled times

Pining away every hour in your room
Rolling with the motion, waiting til it's opportune
Sitting there watching time fly past you
Why do tomorrow
What you could never do
How she loved you
All you imagined
All the shit you put her through

Maybe one day soon
It'll all come out
How you dream about each other sometimes
With a memory of
How you once gave up
But you made it through the troubled times

And it takes a lot of nerve to ask how she is doing
Start with a weak foundation, you will end in ruins
The way the days and hours pass you'll never understand
Falling like rain through your hands

Maybe one day soon
It'll all come out
How you dream about each other sometimes
With a memory of
How you once gave up
But you made it through the troubled times


The Cure - "Boys Don't Cry"

I would say I'm sorry
If I thought that it would change your mind
But I know that this time
I've said too much
Been too unkind

I try to laugh about it
Cover it all up with lies
I try and
Laugh about it
Hiding the tears in my eyes
'cause boys don't cry
Boys don't cry

I would break down at your feet
And beg forgiveness
Plead with you
But I know that
It's too late
And now there's nothing I can do

So I try to laugh about it
Cover it all up with lies
I try to
laugh about it
Hiding the tears in my eyes
'cause boys don't cry

I would tell you
That I loved you
If I thought that you would stay
But I know that it's no use
That you've already
Gone away

Misjudged your limits
Pushed you too far
Took you for granted
I thought that you needed me more

Now I would do most anything
To get you back by my side
But I just
Keep on laughing
Hiding the tears in my eyes
'cause boys don't cry
Boys don't cry
Boys don't cry


Gram Parsons - "Still Feeling Blue"

Time can pass and time can heal
But it don't ever pass the way I feel
You went away a long time ago
And why you left I never knew
The lonely days and lonely nights
Guess the world knows I ain't feelin' right
And when you're gone the hours pass so slow
And now I'm still feeling blue

And baby
Since you've walked out of my life
I never felt so low
Can't help but wonder why you had to go

There are many girls but I can't say
They come and go but still I feel this way
And ever since the day you said goodbye
No one treats me like you used to do

I hope you're out and happy now
Doing up the town cause you know how
Every time I hear your name I want to die
And now I'm still feeling blue

All right

And baby
Since you've walked out of my life
I never felt so low
Can't help but wonder why you had to go

I hope you're out and happy now
Doing up the town cause you know how
Every time I hear your name I want to die
And now I'm still feeling blue
And now I'm still feeling blue


Tone Loc - "Wild Thing"

Let's do it

Workin' all week 9 to 5 for my money
So when the weekend comes I go get live with the honey
Rollin' down the street I saw this girl and she was pumpin'
I winked my eye she got into the ride went to a club was jumpin'
Introduce myself as Loc she said "You're a liar"
I said "I got it goin' on baby doll and I'm on fire"
Took her to the hotel she said "You're the king"
I said "Be my queen if you know what I mean and let us do the wild thing

Wild thing
Wild thing

Shoppin' at the mall looking for some gear to buy
I saw this girl she cool rocked my world and I had to adjust my fly
She looked at me and smiled and said "You have plans for the night"
I said "Hopefully if things go well I'll be with you tonight"
So we journeyed to her house one thing led to an other
I keyed the door we cold hit the floor looked up and it was her mother
I didn't know what to say I was hanging by a string
She said "Hey you two I was once like you and I liked to do the wild thing"

Wild thing
She loved to do the wild thing
Wild thing
Please baby baby please

Posse in effect hangin' out is always hype
And when me and the crew leave the shindig I want a girl who's just my type
Saw this luscious little frame I ain't lyin' fellas she was fine
The sweet young miss go gave me a kiss and I knew that she was mine
Took her to the limousine still parked outside
I tipped the chauffeur when it was over and I gave her my own ride
Couldn't get her off my jack she was like static cling
But that's what happens when body start slappin' from doin' the wild thing

Wild thing
She wanna do the wild thing
Please baby baby please

Wild thing

Doin' a little show at the local discotheque
This fine young chick was on my jack so I say what the heck
She want to come on stage and do her little dance
So I said chill for now but maybe later you'll get your chance
So when the show was finished I took her around the way
And what do you know she was good to go without a word to say
We was all alone and she said "Tone let me tell you one thing
I need $50 to make you holler I get paid to do the wild thing"

Say what
Yo love you must be kidding
You're walkin' babe
Just break out of here
Hasta la vista baby

Wild thing


There it is. Enjoy, loyal readers.


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