Trying to Wear Me Down

Fountains of Wayne "Hey Julie" Listen | Buy

Hey Julie
Look what they're doing to me
Trying to trip me up
Trying to wear me down
Julie, I swear, it's so hard to bear it
And I'd never make it through without you around
No I'd never make it through without you around

Hours on the phone making pointless calls
I got a desk full of paper
That means nothing at all
Sometimes I catch myself staring into space
Counting down the hours
'Til I get to see your face

Hey Julie
Look what they're doing to me
Trying to trip me up
Trying to wear me down
Julie, I swear, it's so hard to bear it
And I'd never make it through without you around
No I'd never make it through without you around

How did it come to be
That you and I must be
Far away from each other every day?
Why must I spend my time
Filling up my mind
With facts and figures that never add up anyway?
They never add up anyway

Working all day for a mean little guy
With a bad toupee and a soup-stained tie
He's got me running 'round the office
Like a gerbil on a wheel
He can tell me what to do
But he can't tell me what to feel

Hey Julie
Look what they're doing to me
Trying to trip me up
Trying to wear me down
Julie, I swear, it's so hard to bear it
And I'd never make it through without you around
No I'd never make it through without you around
No I'd never make it through without you around

Purple States

Lookit me, stealing an idea from RandomBen. This is going to be the next non-fiction book I read:

First chapter | Buy

And here's more - a longer excerpt from the book's final chapter, and a Q&A with author Thomas Frank.

There is a link on the Alternet site to a photogallery project called Sorry Everybody, which gives those who tried to stop George Bush a chance to show the rest of the world that they apologize on behalf of America for the 52% who weren't thinking very clearly.

Titleist

You know how I was thinking about calling my novel It's Just a Fleshwound, Lambchop? Well I think I might call it Somewhere Between Nowhere and Goodbye, instead.

One of the two.

If I ever actually finish it.

I Want to See My Family

New Order "Love Vigilantes" Download mp3 | Purchase

I want to see my family
My wife and child waiting for me
I’ve got to go home
I’ve been so alone, you see

You just can’t believe
The joy I did receive
When I finally got my leave
And I was going home
Oh I flew through the sky
My convictions could not lie
For my country I would die
And I will see it soon

I want to see my family
My wife and child waiting for me
I’ve got to go home
I’ve been so alone, you see

When I walked through the door
My wife she lay upon the floor
And with tears her eyes were sore
I did not know why
Then I looked into her hand
And I saw the telegram
That said that I was a brave, brave man
But that I was dead

I want to see my family
My wife and child waiting for me
I’ve got to go home
I’ve been so alone, you see

Fingered

I'm watching The Killing Fields, again, for the four-hundredth time, and just like the 399 times before it's making me want to cry.

So yeah, I'm not updating the site as frequently as usual because my one typing finger moves far too slowly to keep up with my brain. Every time I try to write something cohesive it comes off as extremely disjointed. Just ask anyone who has been e-mailing me.

Jen is coming over after work tonight to take me to the grocery store, because I still can't drive. My pinkie remains quite painful, and I can barely bend it, so until those things sort themselves out I'll be begging rides from family and friends.

The novelty of the full arm cast has officially worn off.

I Won't Call You Baby Anymore

Low Millions "Eleanor" Download mp3 | Purchase

But for now unlock the door
What are we doin' all this for?
Let me make you dinner one last time
Then you'll go your way and I'll go mine

And I won't call you baby anymore
Won't call you baby like I did before
Won't call you baby anymore, Eleanor

You left your smell
You left your taste
You left me here with my mistakes
And I can't relate to what you say I've done
But just for you I'll bite my tongue

And I won't call you baby anymore
Won't call you baby like I did before
Won't call you baby anymore, Eleanor

Eleanor, I miss you
Eleanor, be well
Eleanor, I wish you'd release me from your spell

And I can't call you baby anymore
Won't call you baby like I did before
Won't call you baby anymore, Eleanor

The Cast That Ate My Arm

One Hand's Just Reaching Out

The Go-Go's "Head Over Heels" Download mp3 | Purchase

Been running so fast
Right from the starting line
No more connections
I don't need any more advice
One hand's just reaching out
And one's just hangin' on
It seems my weaknesses
Just keep going strong

Head over heels
Why should I go?
Can't stop myself
Outta control
Head over heels
No time to think
Looks like the whole world's out of sync

Been running so hard
When what I need is to unwind
The voice of reason
Is one I left so far behind
I've waited so long
So long to play this part
And just remembered
That I'd forgotten about my heart

Cutting to the Chase

I know there are new people visiting who probably want to fast-forward through all the mundane, trivial stuff - there are, after all, over 500 entries on this site - and go straight to the "good stuff." So for these people I've created a new section over there on the right nav.

*points at right nav*

It's called Greatest Hits, and the entries I've collected there are the ones I think are most revealing if you want to know what kind of person I am, what things are important to me, etc.

So don't say I never gave you anything!

Cookies Make Everything Better

My coworkers sent me a Get Well Soon gift basket this afternoon:

The basket included table crackers, merlot cheese spread (fancy!), a mug, a li'l stuffed bear that says "Love bears all things," and a dozen gourmet cookies. And not just any cookies - they remembered which kind of cookies are my favorite.

The answer, of course, is snickerdoodle.

This is just further proof that everyone who meets me loves me.

ouch

i fell down the stairs at work today and ended up fracturing my left elbow and right pinky, and severely spraining my right wrist. i also have an enormous bruise/contusion on my left knee and i smacked the left side of my skull on the hardwood floor. but my right leg is just fine!

i'm in a soft cast right now, but on either friday or monday i'll be getting a full-arm cast, which i will be wearing for three months.

so i'm probably going to be a lot less prolific for quite awhile.

Jake's Bitter Center

Jake: t-1:45
Jake: starving
Me: bored
Jake: filled with hate
Me: want to hear something sweet?
Me: sure you do
Jake: this place makes me hate the world
Me: I just got this in an e-mail from someone
Me: "Your letters are always a nice burst of sunshine to start out my day...thank you!"
Me: isn't that nice?
Jake: 'tis
Me: I feel all appreciated
Jake: good
Jake: now's my chance to RUIN IT
Jake: and BRING YOU DOWN
Jake: BASTARD
Jake: *smiley*
Me: I'm going to commemorate your bitterness to the ages
Jake: I want to ram my head into the wall

Celebrities: Bastards Just Like Us

The glitterati like Apple products as much as us wage slaves do, but they don't always feel the need to be considerate customers:

Stars Take a Shine to Apple

Apparently, Melanie Griffith is a bitter old hag who "threw a tantrum when she was unable to buy a pink iPod mini." LeVar Burton refused to go out to his car to get his photo ID for a credit card purchase, causing the sales clerk to relent "only because I could see a vein pulsating in his forehead and I didn't want to be the one responsible for causing the blind dude from Star Trek to have a stroke."

Robin Williams, John Stewart and Kiefer Sutherland are all, according to reports, super nice.

Caged 'Roid Rage

Jose Canseco sucks.

Apparently Jose Canseco is going around bragging about his steroid usage during his days as a Major League Baseball player. Whatever. He is also outting other players as being steroid users. Again, whatever. None of this is shocking.

What's shocking, at least to me, is that Jose Canseco has the balls - because after all, steroids shrink your testicles - to say that Jason Giambi has the most obvious "steroid user" body he has ever seen.

Well, I guess Jose Canseco never looked in the mirror - an amusing thought for such a narcissist, isn't it? - because I've had the great pleasure (!!!) of seeing the man without his shirt on and he had, without doubt, the biggest, broadest chest I have ever seen.

EVER. Bar none.

I walked behind him, following him into the Toronto Blue Jays locker room after batting practice one day, and his shoulders were so broad that I was not at all sure he'd be able to fit through the door. His last name, emblazoned across the back, barely spanned the distance between his shoulderblades.

I was in the locker room when he took off his shirt, and my first thought was, "If this guy were to punch me in the face, he'd probably kill me." He was that huge.

So he needs to shut up now. A lot.

Rock Gods

Yes, this is how rock stars should look:

Marry me, Nick McCarthy! (the guy on the far right, who is the guitarist for Franz Ferdinand)

The Sound of "Music"

They told me not to miss the first five minutes of the Grammys, so like the mass media sheep I am, I'm not missing it.

So far we've had the Black Eyed Peas preach about tolerance (as near as I can make out; they're pretty difficult to understand, what with all the shouting and flailing their arms). This is an interesting (read: hypocritical) message coming from a band that originally called it's recent hit "Let's Get Retarded."

And now we have a duet between Gwen Stefani and Eve. It's official - Gwen Stefani is insane:

Los Lonely Boys follows the freakishness. These people can actually play - what are they doing on the Grammys?

Maroon 5 - shut up, Adam Levine, you big whiner. And stop trying to dress like Paul Weller circa The Jam.

Someone from the Black Eyed Peas - am I supposed to bother to learn his name? - just threw a guitar to Adam Levine (unfortunately it didn't hit him in the forehead) and they dueted a bit. *yawn*

OH YES. HELLO. Franz Ferdinand! This makes all the crap I've just sat through worth it. Dear god, the Franz guitarist is all sorts of cool. "Take Me Out" indeed.

And now all the bands are doing some sort of weird collage of their songs. Someone is breakdancing on the floor. Franz Ferdinand is standing there looking cool. Oh, and there's The Edge in the crowd. Good way to end.

*exits stage right*

ETA: Just have to add one thing - Marc Anthony looks like a reanimated corpse.

Asian Bird Flu

I've been really busy, I have. So sorry for the lack of updates. But I know how some people are entertained by my dreams, so I thought I'd share last night's fevered hallucination.

(I blame this dream on the fact that my cockatiel, Nibbles, starts chirping around 8 a.m. even if she's still covered. And since I slept in this morning, I think my subconscious incorporated the chirping into my dream.)

Actually, only one part stood out and was funny. I was living in a house that was not my own, and every time I walked through a room there would be a new bird flying around. So I start collecting the birds and putting them in cages. At one point I had three cockatiels and couldn't tell which one was Nibbles, which made me sad. I also had a finch of some sort who had a broken tail (what would Freud say about that?).

Here's the good part - the last bird that I caught was a parakeet. But it was bald on it's head save for a little patch around the top of the skull. It looked like Friar Tuck. But instead of wearing a robe, it was wearing a knit green turtleneck sweater. Yes. A bird sweater. A sweater on a bird.

And then it started speaking to me. In complete sentences, no less. It said, "My name is J'Italia, it is very nice to make your acquaintance." In my dream, I'm weird enough to answer back. Then the bird says, "I would like to move to the country and become a blacksmith."

*blink*

And then I woke up because Dawsey stuck his little black kitty face in my face and caterwauled in my ear because he wanted to be fed. I so love my cats.

101 In 1001 Update

I have crossed off numbers 17 (visit with Trina), 23 (stop swearing at fellow motorists for one week) and 97 (wear something pink), and added another movie to number 93 (B. Monkey, which was asstastic). Details on the main 101 in 1001 page.

Totem Pole

I still feel like hot death on a stick, but Rappy is trying to perk me up by providing scintillating conversation:

Rappy: I know the loss of added benefits might suck, but I suggest the band aid approach.
Me: but this is how guys do it!
Me: I guess I always have my arranged marriage with Totem to fall back on
Rappy: heh
Rappy: I should probably mention that to him...
Me: what? he's cheating on me?!?
Rappy: no!
Rappy: he just doesn't know he shouldn't be!
Me: haha
Me: is Totem a playah?
Rappy: No
Me: Totem is probably King Godly Stud and you just don't talk about it
Me: I should post this on your site
Me: in a comment
Me: because then he will see it
Rappy: true!
Me: *coding*
Rappy: NO!
Rappy: put it on yours. Expose it to the masses
Me: but HE won't see it
Rappy: I'll tell him about it
Me: oh all right
Me: done
Rappy: remind me tomorrow to tell him
Me: call him NOW
Me: get his ass out of bed for it
Rappy: nah
Rappy: he works hard.
Me: he was supposed to send me cookies
Me: he works hard doing what?
Rappy: OH!
Me: dude, the cookies are our BOND
Rappy: he's in school 5 days a week, and works evenings 5 nights a week, and then volunteers at the Oncology wing of the hospital in Tel Aviv
Rappy: on Fridays
Me: he DOES?
Me: *swoon*
Rappy: it's part of his scholarship fulfillment
Me: oh
Me: *revokes swoon*
Rappy: but he could have gone anywhere!
Rappy: he chose this

Speechless

Literally.

Just a quick note to say that I'm rilly, rilly sick right now, complete with laryngitis and the inability to sleep for more than 90 minutes at a time. My lungs, as per usual, are in revolt, but this time they've brought my sinuses along for the battle.

So I just don't have the energy to make updates. Maybe this weekend.