Friday, December 30, 2005

Tupac and Rivers were tight, yo. Fo' rizzle.

If you visit this terrible website with any sort of regularity, you'll know that I don't care about much in life, except for probably drugs, sex, and music. Well, probably just one of those three.

I was subjected to something called "Scratch and Sniff" today. No, it's not the lovable stickers of the days of old, it's a name for the mash-up segment on a radio station here in this terrible city.

The radio station dubs itself as the "New Rock Revolution." Hence, rather than play relevant new rock (like Bloc Party, Sleater-Kinney, Death Cab, Broken Social Scene, or Autolux), they'd rather play Metallica's "Sad But True." Wait, how about instead of James Hetfield screaming like a moron, we'll have Kanye West sing his "Gold Digga" song instead? Oh, better yet let's play some idiotic Queens of the Stone Age song (I don't know the name of the one, but it's the most annoying one they have), and let's totally disgrace the memory of Notorious B.I.G. by playing the lyrics for "Hypnotize" over it!

My personal favorite was the mash-up of Tupac Shakur and Weezer. Seriously. Tupac Shakur. Rivers Cuomo. Basically, they're the same guy. Same background, same message in their music.

Whoever sat down and decided that it was probably a good idea to combine "California Love" with "Beverly Hills" is the biggest failure at life in the history of human domination of this planet. I pretty much want to find the guy (or gal) who did this and strangle them to death with "my two hands." (Sorry, that's an Incident at Loch Ness reference. Just see it, stop complaining to me.)

Worse yet, they devote like 2 hours to this atrocity.

When I actually sit down and think about that, it pretty much makes me want to jump into an enclosure full of tigers just so that they can toy with me for a while before they devour me while I'm still breathing. It's either that or I could go to a secluded island where a madman decides to hunt me because he has determined that Man is the most dangerous game.

Both of those options are more attractive than having to ever be aware of the fact that this radio station plays those songs.

Saturday, December 24, 2005

You know that sludge at the bottom of your Turkish coffee? Yeah, this is it.

It's that time of the year again, the time when everyone becomes an expert on everything and lets everyone else know how important their opinions are. However, most people will try to convince their peers as to what the best songs of 2005 are. Personally, I think that's a little tired, and a little too easy. You know what you like, it's easy to come up with a list of things that you think are cool.

Since I always have to be different (read: better) than everyone else, I've compiled a list of the 10 worst songs of 2005. As I may or may not have mentioned before, my car has only a radio; no tape player, no cd player, no media player of any kind. The result? I usually end up going nuts because the music on the radio is so freakin' terrible that I can barely exist.

This is my way of getting back at every radio station which has ever played any one of these tracks. It's pretty crappy revenge, I know, but come on, what else am I going to do? Call and tell the stations that they suck? Actually, that's not a bad idea...

10. Do You Want To - Franz Ferdinand
This song makes the list just because I'm sick of Franz Ferdinand ripping off every band they've ever heard. Basically, FF is a conglomeration of all the crappy (and none of the good) aspects of 80s new wave music. The melody in the "make somebody love me" is so reminiscent of that Jefferson Airplane song that I finally had to call them out on it. Be thankful Franzy, you're only number 10. That's not that bad.

9. I'm Not Okay (I Promise) - My Chemical Romance
I cannot think of a good reason as to why anyone would willingly listen to this song, unless their loved ones were being tortured and the only way to save them would be to listen to this Green Day cover band. That one part where the guy talks for about half a second pretty much makes me want to shove screwdrivers through my ears so that I never have to hear how terrible this song is ever again.

8. Doesn't Remind Me - Audioslave
Chris Cornell cannot sing. He can't. I'm not saying that in a "he can't sing opera" kind of way, or that "he has a good rock voice, like in a cool 'Trent Reznor can't sing'" kind of way, I'm saying he can't sing. He can't. He shouldn't, at any rate. Whoever lets him sing is just as guilty for aiding and abetting Chris Cornell in his quest to make my life miserable. I'm just about ready to kill myself because I'm so upset that this song exists.

7. Fix You - Coldplay
Coldplay just sucks. I'd apologize for that comment, but I don't think I have to. They're always nipping at the heels of Radiohead, and sucking miserably at copying them. I wish they'd just quit, but then I'd have less things to get angry about.

6. Candy Shop - 50 Cent
I'm not entirely sure if there's any discernable beat/melody to this song. Everytime I hear it, I get really discombobulated and annoyed. Fiddy has worn out his welcome in the music scene, says I.

5. All I Want For Christmas Is You - Mariah Carey
This song makes the list because I recently had to drive about 20 hours in the past 4 days, and nearly every station was playing Christmas music, and each one of those was playing this song on repeat. No lie. It's so ingrained in my skull that I'm going to use that new power drill I got for Giftmas to eradicate it from my brain.

4. Wake Me Up When September Ends - Green Day
This is the most annoying song Green Day has ever released, and that's saying a lot, because Green Day knows how to release annoying songs. If you like this song, it's probably because you're a failure at life, and you're a masochist.

3. Best Of You - Foo Fighters
This is off the album "In Your Honor," and I'm sick of Dave Grohl still trying to milk the fact that every song and every album he releases is an homage to Kurt Cobain. Move the fuck on, my friend (read: enemy). You have drumming skills, please use them and release something worth listening to. I would prefer it if you don't sing though, because the opening lines of this song pretty much sound like someone is hitting a baby with a cat.

2. Photograph - Nickelback
Opening lines, opening lines! Wherefore dost thou suck so? Whenever I hear this abomination, I am pretty much embarrassed for Chad Kroeger. Seriously, why did his producer tell him that it actually sounded good to start off the song with his horrible voice? I should find that human and destroy him.

1. Sugar, We're Going Down - Fall Out Boy
You had to expect this. What other song could possibly outdo this one in complete suckiness? When I was taking votes for this list, this won by a landslide, nearly 50,000 votes. Downright ridiculous, right? If this band ever releases another album, I'm probably going to have to drop a nuclear bomb on their recording studio.

Well, there you have it. If you're looking for a top 10, just search around the web, everyone has one and they're probably right, unless any one of these songs is included on their list.

Sunday, December 18, 2005

Gunning for a degree in Beerology.

So it's been a while...again. It's not that things haven't been happening, it's that I'm way too lazy to do anything [read: blog] about them. However, the past couple of days have been amazing, and now that I'm really bored, I guess I'll tell you about them.

On Thursday, about 8 of the graduate students (including yours truly) decided it would be an amazing idea to play tackle football in the snow. Normally, this would be a good idea, but there are two things that make it, in this instance, a scheme that ought to be left on the scrap heap:

1. It was very cold, and as such, the snow was harder than concrete, and
2. I suck at not fumbling.

So, after getting our asses kicked all over the place, I ended up going home and taking it rather easy that night, because I had something to do the next morning. Something very important. The defining moment of my life, you could say. Something so crucial to my life on this has-been planet orbited by a cold and distant sun that to not perform it would surely result in my death.

I had to drive [read: ride] 2+ hours to go to a beer shop.

The Someday Bum and I went to the most amazing beer shop (it was actually a grocery, but fuck that, nobody would ever go there for just groceries). We were having a beer exchange party (like a Christmas cookie exchange party, but better, and with beer), and he and I wanted to have the most amazing selection out of all the people there. Together, he and I spent about 250 U.S. Treasury notes on the oldest drink known to man. Now, my refridgerator is full of nothing but delectable suds, and every time I glance inside, my heart explodes. It's so totally out of control, you really have no idea.

Since I don't have an eon and a half to tell you about every beer I have, I'll just tell you about one. It's called Samichlaus, and it's probably one of the best beers in the entire world. It's brewed only once a year (on December 6th) and you have to let it age for at least one year. I hear that this beer is best in its forty-third year. How insane is that?

Now, you'd think that since I have all this delicious beer, I'd be heading right over to the party, right?

Wrong.

I decided to relax for a bit after getting back from Iowa City, and I took a shower at 5:30pm. An instant after getting out, I get a phone call from a friend asking me if I still wanted to go to dinner, and that reservations were made for 6pm. I totally went from 0 to sexy in about 4.3 seconds and showed up at the restaurant where it was extremely packed and we got terrible service from some idiot that used to be one of my students. While at dinner, I was reminded that a professor here was having a party to which I was invited, and that I should probably go. I was also reminded of a party that a friend was having that night.

Oh man. After dinner, I party-hopped like a crazy bastard, having one drink everywhere I went, until I arrived at the beer exchange party (about an hour late), and basically made a fool out of myself. It was a lot of fun, and I strongly suggest everyone tries it.

The next day, I was hurting really bad due to lack of sleep and abundance of alcohol intake, so I basically sat around and cleaned the apartment. Very exciting, no?

Well, enough of that garbage. I've added a link to a blog called "Chez Logique," which I think is about French desserts like Creme Brulee with logic frosting or something. I don't know, just go read it, I'm sure it's brilliant.

Friday, December 02, 2005

The only property of "dying" is that we are about to be it.

Last night, after proctoring the exam for my class (which totally took like 30 minutes longer than it should have because I'm such a nice teacher), I decided to head over to a friend's place to partake in some more Betrayal.

At the House on the Hill, that is.

It was totally rockin'. My character ended up going insane and thinking he was Julius Caesar, and that all of the other explorers were totally Brutus, Cassius, and the rest of those murderous trolls who stabbed the greatest ruler of all time. It's just as well though, because had that never actually occurred, then Marc Antony wouldn't have been all friendly with Cleo, and she probably wouldn't have killed herself with an asp, and then there wouldn't be an awesome crossword clue that's 3 letters long that will show up in at least 1 of the 3 major crossword puzzles every day. It's amazing how things work, right?

After that, someone totally resurrected Frankenstien's monster, and my character this time (a 9 year old girl by the name of Missy Dubourde) was torn limb from limb. I'm so not even kidding, it was amazing. Then the surviving explorers lured him to the chasm and pushed him off the bridge. It's not a joke when I affirm my desire to play this game professionally. It will happen one day, I swear it.

Anyway, we had to partake in the dodgeball tournament as well, but our game didn't start until 11pm. Since it's about absolute zero outside right now, the car we decided to take was frostier than the snowman who sports that adjective as his moniker. Due to this fact, we were basically driving down a heavily trafficked road in what basically amounted to a coffin, for two reasons.

1. We couldn't see outside the windows, so anything that didn't have headlights (such as a human being) would be instantly killed if said object had crossed our path, and
2. we were probably going to die by causing a 3-car pileup.

So it was a fitting metaphor for the vehicle. We didn't actually die though, so I guess that's kind of cool.

I was a total superstar at the dodgeball matches, catching balls and also knocking opponents out, and basically just being an amazing athlete. We still didn't win though, and that's probably due to the fact that the referees have an inability to let me know whether I'm out or not. It's a little depressing.

I went home and cleaned and dyed my hair and prepared myself for today, where I'm going to have to drink 1000 beers about an hour or so from now. Basically, that just means I hydrated myself like crazy, because the only property of dehydration is that I am it incarnate. It sucks, no lie.

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