How Many Cops Does It Take To Blow-Up A Lightbulb?

Oh, Holy Shit! I'm laughing too hard to even type.
The huge Boston bomb scare today was, apparently, Bean-Town's Finest running around town blowing up promotional LED displays (pictured above) for the upcoming Aqua Teen Hunger Force movie. LINK

How wicked-retarded do you have to be to mistake a bunch of little LED lights in the shape of a 'Mooninite' for an explosive device?
If little multicolored lights freak 'em out that much, I'm amazed that they got through the holiday season without repeatedly shitting themselves.
In all fairness, maybe their daddies beat them with Lite-Brites when they were little.

I feel safer already.

Woot Off!

Finally, a woot-off comes around when I have plenty of cash, and all the time in the world to push that F5 key. Check it out at Woot.com.

Well Hung Over

Oh, holy shit, I'm in bad shape today.
I went out last night for the first time in a month - Since the DC smoking ban went into effect, I've been perfectly content to stay at home where the booze is finer, the music is better, the lines for the toilet are shorter, and where I don't have to go outside for a smoke.
Well, last night I went out in full force and had my ass totally handed to me. I met up with a buddy for a lunch, had some Thai food and a few Singha lagers, ran a couple of errands, then decided to catch a movie (Children of Men) before the bar opened. I hit the bar at about 5PM, and started right in on the drinkin'.
I figured that I'd only be out for a few drinks and head home early, so I abandoned my tried & true hard-drinking strategy of grabbing some food first, and sticking to Bud bottles. By drinking Bud I sacrifice some taste, but am able to accurately gauge my alcohol intake, which is handy if you're pounding 'em down. I started drinking Maredsous 10s on an empty stomach, and was pretty loaded before I even started in on the shot regiment.
7 or 8 shots and god-knows how many beers later - It was after midnight, I was loaded, and I had been talked into heading out to Georgetown to continue drinking. Okay, It should be noted here that I HATE Georgetown with a burning passion, and haven't gone out there in over 3 years. I don't do Georgetown, but there I was pounding down high-alcohol Belgian Abbey Pub Ale in some yuppie bar. This is where I started to get feisty. I spent all of my energy between sips (and smoke breaks) trying to goad my friends into asinine socio-political arguments. It apparently worked, because I made one person cry, 2 people left, and I got a drink thrown in my face - It must have been one hell of a rant. I then decided to slam the 2 bottles of ale in front of me, get the hell out of Georgetown, and head back to the other bar. Halfway through the first bottle I got a throat full of foam, and then proceeded to vomit into my left shirt pocket and all over my cigarettes. Charming. We get kicked out of the bar, my friends go to grab some food, and I decide to call it a night and head home.
At this point, it's 3:00 in the AM, and I'm wandering through Georgetown trying to get a cab to take me to the Northern edge of the DC city limits. All I remember about this point in the night, is accidentally stumbling onto some crime-scene while trying to find a place to take a leak, and being shooed-off by the DCPD. It took 45 minutes out in the bitter cold (with approximately a dozen cabs refusing the fare) before I snagged a cab that was willing to take me up to Takoma (for the bargain-basement price of twice the regular fare).
I figured that I should eat something before passing out, so I had the cabbie drop me off at the 7-11. This is a horrible idea. Every time I'm loaded, I end up getting a couple of Spicy Jamaican Beef Patties. They're damned tasty when you're loaded (and surprisingly spicy), but will wreak havoc with your digestive tract. For some (stupid, stupid, stupid) reason I decided to only get ONE beef patty, and offset it with a 'Spicy Bite' chili dog with hot pepper relish and piled with jalapenos (damn you, condiment bar).
I got home, threw my clothes in the wash, took a shower, ate my plate of death-food, and went to sleep on the couch (to avoid the wrath of The Girl).
This morning I woke up and felt like somebody went to town on me with a Deer-E-Ere. I was hurtin' from esophagus to asshole. All day long, I've been moaning on the couch while my innards make noises usually only heard from backwoods moonshine stills.
Now, It's almost 24 hours later and I'm still wrecked. I've been pounding Mallox and Alka-Seltzer all day and my guts are still in full-revolt. I've tried everything to shake this (included an ill-advised hair-of-the-dog offensive), but am still praying for death.
Next time I go out, I'm hiring a chaperon. And, as soon as I'm able, I'm gonna slip the night clerk at the 7-11 a hundred bucks to promise never to sell me spicy food after midnight ever again. It will be money well-spent - I'm considering it 'idiot insurance', cuz I are dumb as hell.

And the Award for 'Most Disturbing Product' Goes To...

-Click to Enlarge-

If you ever see someone walk into a bar with one of these things, run like hell!

Almost Paradox

I just wrote a long rant on how the leftist PC (Political Correctness*) movement was dissolving our constitutional liberties**, and creating a generation of over-sheltered emotional invalids. I read over it, decided it was wide-open to misinterpretation, and shelved it.
That's right, I caved into the preschool-nation mentality that if you cant say anything nice...

Now I'm officially part of the problem; hooray for me. I'll just go whole-hog on the other side for the sake of propriety:
If anyone wants to join me in congratulating the mayor of Brazoria, Texas for trying to pass an ordinance to fine anyone $500.00 who uses 'the n-word' in an "offensive" manner (LINK), please chime in. I'm sure that this won't threaten the fabric of our constitution, as restriction of speech could never become a slippery slope, and it will surely lead to a more open and enlightened society. It's totally not unconstitutional if someones feelings are at stake, dammit. I'm sure that this type of legislation is for the best, and will create an atmosphere where nobody will ever have their feelings hurt ever again, and that's super. I'm sure that nothing but good can come of it.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need a shower.
---

* Not to be confused with the Personal Computer, Prostate Cancer, Postal Code, or Polycarbon Movements.
**In fairness, I also touched on how the right-wing fearmongers (and/or bible-bangers) were doing the same.

The Liar -vs- The Alaskan Polar Bear Heater

A comment from Bill a couple of posts ago laid out the recipe for an "Alaskan Polar Bear Heater". Despite Ed's (emphatic) warnings, I decided to make one and film the results for posterity. Here it is:

It totally tastes like bitters-soaked ass. I drank the whole thing, nonetheless.
Big thanks go out to The Girl for doing camera duty - Look for her finger in a reappearing cameo throughout.

Holy Shit!

Bears are in the Super Bowl again. I'll be sure to do plenty of mobilebloggin' from Miami.

The Man Who Laughs, Clown, Laugh

I got a wild hair, and decided to watch a double-feature (with a six hour intermission for sleep). Late last night I watched 'The Man Who Laughs', and early this morning I woke up and watched 'Laugh, Clown, Laugh' - Both silent films from 1928. Apparently, 1928 was a huge year for fucked-up tortured clown movies.
I've been watching a lot of silent films lately, and couldn't resist watching these two films back-to-back. Bill was kind enough to send me a copy of 'TMWL', and I'd been hesitant to open up My Lon Chaney collection (with 'LCL') until I had a good reason. After watching 'THWL' I had my reason.
Here's the breakdown:

The Man Who Laughs
Directed by Paul Leni, and based on the novel by Victor Hugo.I first became acquainted with the protagonist of this film, Gwynplaine, from James Elroy's book Black Dahlia, wherein a painting of Gwynplaine factors heavily into the storyline. I was intrigued and began to research the character. I was blown away by Hugo's premise.
The basis of this story is that a young son of a defiant nobleman is mutilated under order of King James II as retribution for his father's impudence. The king hires Gypsy surgeons to carve a gaping macabre smile across the child's face, regardless of Gwynplaine's emotion it looks as if he's laughing. The child is abandoned by the Gypsys and, while wandering, finds a blind infant, Dea, in the arms of her dead mother beneath her (presumably) father's gallow. The two orphans find shelter with the philosopher, Ursus (bear), and his wolf, Homo (man).
Flash forward 15 years - Gwynplaine is one of the most celebrated performers in England, and the whole lot of 'em are touring the countryside, performing. The film deals with Gwynplaine's desires for Dea, his shame over his appearance, and his quest for acceptance. Furthermore, within the royal court it is discovered that Gwynplaine is the rightful heir to his father's estate. The royals battle amongst each other wielding this new information as a weapon, all unbeknown to Gwynplaine and his 'family'.
I thoroughly enjoyed this film. This movie was absolutely beautiful, and I found myself pausing the DVD and taking photos of the screen at several points in the movie (probably 'cause I was drinking).

This seems to be Madonna's acting debut. She played the evil Duchess, Josiana:
With a character named 'Homo' in a silent film, you get some pretty awesome placards:
Bonus Fact: Bob Kane used the character of Gwynplaine as inspiration for Batman's nemesis, The Joker. Here's a close-up shot of Gwynplaine from the film:
Laugh, Clown, Laugh
Directed by Herbert Brenon, and based on a play by David Belasco & Tom Cushing.I'm a huge fan of the old Lon Cheney films, and had been wanting to see this one for awhile. I really enjoyed the film and (especially) Chaney's performance, but after watching 'TMWL' it just kinda fell flat. This one's a story of a couple of traveling performers that find an abandoned little girl (Simonetta) and bring her in.
Flash forward 15 years (give or take) - Tito (Cheney) is one of the most celebrated performers in Italy, and the whole lot of 'em are touring through the countryside, performing. The film deals with Tito's desires for Simonetta, his shame over his attraction to the younger girl, and his quest for the acceptance of her love. Yeah, I just cut and pasted the preceding sentences from the earlier review and altered a couple of things, but it fits. While seeking help from a therapist, Tito befriends a Count (who is also smitten with Simonella). Love triangle hijinks/conflicts ensue.

It's amazing that two movies so similar were released in the same year. I guess that's just the way of Hollywood (Deep Impact -vs- Armageddon, Bug's Life -vs- Antz, etc.). They were probably filmed within 5 miles of each other, but 'The Man Who Laughs' had much more of a European feel to it due to Leni's expressionist style. 'TMWL' had a few surprisingly risque scenes, and was much darker in nature when compared to 'LCL'. 'Laugh, Clown, Laugh' had a more refined "Hollywood" feel to it. It was a charming little film, but failed to reach the depth of 'TMWL'.
I think that the bigger issue that these movies address is the sheer volumes of abandoned children floating around in the silent-film era. Hell, within the last week I've watched Harold Lloyd, Charlie Chaplin, and Fritz Lang films that were all littered with transient waifs. Those little bastards must have been EVERYWHERE.
So that this plague doesn't haunt our society once again, please be sure to spay and neuter your children. Thank you for your cooperation.

Drink, Drank, Drunk

If you'd kindly peer over to the right side of the screen, you'll notice that I've added a new link to the Liar's Club list. William T caved in and started up a blog - Difference is, He's rocking it out right off of the bat. He's been posting like a champ, and is doing a bang-up job of bringing us an extensive primer of liquor-soaked cinema. It's really good stuff, and you should stop wasting your time with the tripe I crap out here and check out his blog ASAP. You won't be sorry.

In salute to Bill's blog I'm going to share a couple of my favorite drink recipes with you.

Liar's Medicinal Tincture:Everything you need is in the picture above: Whiskey, Honey, Ginger, and Lemon.
1) Fill the bottle half full with Rye Whiskey. I use Rye because it has a full flavor that works well with tinctures, but more importantly, it's dirt-cheap, so If you fuck-up it's no big loss. That bottle pictured above is some fancy-ass bottle that I probably dropped an obscene amount on at the Container Store, but any empty bottle and a vacuum cork would work just as well (if not better).
2) Add in a long squirt of honey into the whiskey and shake it like hell until the honey dissolves completely.
3) Thinly cut a few slices of fresh ginger (to taste) and half as many slices of lemon rind (to taste). I like to briefly roast them in a frying pan to 'bloom' the oils, but I'm sure that it would work just as well without that extra step.
4) Stuff the lemon and ginger into the bottle and fill it to the top with more whiskey.
5) Shake like hell, stick it into the fridge, and leave it the hell alone for at least 5 days.
6 Drink. I like it over ice, but it works equally as well as an aperitif shot (or 10).

Mint Julep:If you can fall out of a boat and get wet, you can make a decent Mint Julep.
1) Stroll out to your garden and pick a few fist-fulls of mint, since it's 70 degrees in January, the stuff is everywhere. If you live in the city, you can just stroll out to Whole Foods, but it's gonna cost you at least 10 'folksy points'.
2) Crush a fist-full of mint and place in a 2 cup measuring cup.
3) Pour one cup of sugar into that measuring cup. I always use raw sugar, but any sugar will do.
4) Add one cup of boiling water and stir until all of the sugar is dissolved.
5) Let the syrup cool, and then pour into a small storage bottle - I use a Mason jar & Cling wrap ('Cuz it's 'folksy'). Refrigerate until use.
6) Grab a rocks glass and/or Mason jar and fill that sucka with ice. Add one part of the mint syrup to two parts bourbon (I prefer Knob Creek for Juleps). Adjust mix to taste.
7) Garnish with a sprig of fresh mint (if you want some inedible thing to go up your nose, and generally get in your way while your trying to get a buzz on).
8) Drink.
9) Repeat until immobile.

Duds

This weekend I realized that my CD burner was getting wiggy with a few of the new WILTS - Typical tech hiccups like doubling songs and whatnot. Apparently, the CD burner saw me laying around the house not workin', and decided to join in the fun.
Anyhow, It's likely that a handful of shady discs went out to you fine folks. If you have any problems with your WILT let me know, and I'll shoot you out another disc.
Speaking of shooting; You may want to stock up on ammo for the oncoming technology revolt. This burner "malfunction" is just the first step toward a full-on Maximum Overdrivesque appliance uprising. Mark my words, and load your revolvers.

Fuck the Penguins

It's been a beautiful couple of weeks out here on the East Coast. It looks like our luck will hold out until Monday/Tuesday of next week. 75 degrees in January - I could get used to this.
On a more freaky-deaky wrath-of-god twist, flowers and cherry blossoms are starting to sprout up everywhere. I went out with my camera on Friday to get some pics. You can check 'em out, plus a bunch of other crap I just got around to posting, over on my Flickr page.

Granted, penguins are kinda cute, but I'm already planning a trip to the shore for Groundhog Day. So, screw those little black & white bastards.
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Bonus (for the Old Dog):

Arrrrrgh!

I've just spent the last five hours in customer-service hell.

I'm trying to port my contacts from Outlook onto my new phone. Should be easy, right? I've got Bluetooth connections on both my laptop and phone. There's even a "Send to device via Bluetooth" link right up there in the Outlook the drop-down menu. Simple as a bread sandwich, right? Oh, Hell no.
All of the contacts transfer, but very few of the numbers do. Furthermore, it has isolated all of my contacts that I only have listed by first-name (which are the ones I use the most) off in some pariah-folder that I can only access by clicking on no fewer than 5 separate buttons, plus those names don't show up when using the search function. I tried adding the last names, but those contacts still remain in the "outcast" folder. It also proceeded to re-name all of my files. Now If I want to call Joe, I have to look under "D" for 'Dog, Old'. You're fucking kidding me, right?
I called up Verizon, I was amazed that I got a representative right off of the bat. She took down all of my information and listened to my explanation of my problem, then promptly put me on hold for damn near 40 minutes, then (somehow) managed to disconnect me.
As I was storming around the living room throwing around my stack of old (yet unread) Wired Magazines, and swearing up a blue-streak that sent the dog running for the bathtub, I got a call from the Verizon tech division who (miraculously) managed to figure out that my call had been dropped.
I talked with that guy for about 10 minutes, when he decided to dial into the LG tech-support line. We both sat on hold for 15 more minutes until LG told me to enter my number, and that they would call me back promptly. That was 4 hours ago - Still no call. I probably won't hear from those assholes until Monday (if I'm lucky).
While I was biding my time I decided to take a closer look at what information was being omitted. I discovered that any number that was written out without any formatting transferred, whereas any formatted number didn't - IE: 8005551212 would show up, whereas (800) 555-1212 would not.
I then spent the next 2 hours online weeding through Microsoft "help" files in order to find out how to disable the masking function. After finding nothing, I decided to give MS a call. The recorded message told me that since Outlook was packaged with my computer when I purchased it, that I had to call Dell for any support issues. They offered to help me directly if I could enter in my credit card number for a fee of $35.00. Bastards.
While I was sitting on hold for Dell waiting for 'the soonest available representative', I discovered a thread on a hacker BBS that explained that the masking tool was hard-coded into the Outlook program, and the only way around it was to add unused 'dummy' characters into all of my Outlook phone numbers. That would take way-longer than just entering the numbers that I needed. While I was trying to wrap my brain around just how asinine that was, the Dell guy finally picked up the line. I told him that I had just called to let him know that he was a dirty twat, and hung-up.
I'm screwed. There's nothing I can really do to fix this nonsense. It's all a fucking rigmarole of proprietary horseshit. Something that should be a delightful dance around the may-pole, turns into a freaking psy-ops experiment. I can't believe that people willingly put up with this crap.
With my old Blackberry, all I had to do was plug the damned thing in and everything was roses, so I know that this can be done. But, with LG, no such luck.
Now I have to erase everything and just enter all 165 contacts in all over again. Granted, I could have done this several times over in the time I've wasted trying to do it the "easy" way, but that's not the point. THINGS SHOULD WORK THE WAY THEY'RE SUPPOSED TO WITHOUT JUMPING THROUGH AN ENDLESS SERIES OF HOOPS.
In all of that poking-around I did learn a lot about my (stupid, stupid) phone, the Verizon site, and Microsoft's tech-labyrinth. I even managed to change the phone's master function to read "Retard" instead of "LX9900", so that's something.

In summation:
Fuck Verizon Wireless.
Fuck LG.
Fuck Microsoft.
Fuck Dell.

Add 'em all to my Jihad List.

What I'm Listening To - Winter 2007

L&E Farms remembers:
We here at Lies Ampersand Exaggerations remember back to a simpler time, a time when pimply teenagers across the nation cobbled together crappy Peter Gabriel-heavy mix tapes on their mom's boom-box to impress that one special girl that they never had a chance of bedding. We remember pounding down Jolt cola after Jolt cola while trying to decide which pre-VanHalen Sammy Hagar song best encompassed our undying feelings of love (answer: I Can't Drive 55).
But did she ever notice? Hell no. She just threw your precious un-listened-to mix tape on the 'AV geek' pile and then went out with that mulleted douche-hole who drove that bitchin' IRock. Well, now she's totally fat, and has like 8 kids or something with Mr. IRock's half-retarded older brother, and her teeth were always kinda funny, so I guess we all dodged a collective bullet there, but still. We culled the rock, and it felt good, even if it was wasted on that total slut-bag.
But, alas, I digress; L&E Farms remembers back to the days before all the music was in the EmptyTree format and those EyeToons that the kids are nutty about nowadays. We remember back to the days of 45's and cassingles. We remember when music was a tangible object that you could hold in your hands (or in the case of gate-fold albums, hang on your wall). We remember back to the days before the Inter-tubes and e-Webs. Hell, now all music is just a bunch of random gobeldey-gook that's passed through a net and is stored in pods and whatnot... well, that and uber-PC Emo-core flexidiscs.
It ain't natural, I tell ya! We here at L&E use only use music harvested from the finest 500RPM compact discs (and other assorted fillers, when necessary) to put together our quarterly W.I.L.T. CD compilations. We sit down and add each track onto a CDR using an old Teac turn-of-the-century disc-to-disc burner. Why? Because the music tastes better that way, dummy.
We sweat and toil over in the Photoshop to bring you the finest and freshest artwork for these comps. Then we burn each disc out in real-time, print and cut each sleeve by hand, then write out extensive liner-notes and set up direct links until our fingers are worn down to bare bloody nubs.
Are there easier ways? Oh, hell yes! We do it this way all in the name of quality. You hear that, Chico? QUALITY. Well, quality and a severe case of obsessive compulsive disorder.
We just want your aural enjoyment to be special, because L&E farms remembers.
Liner Notes:
1) Screeching Weasel - Edge of the World
from the 2000 album Teen Punks In Heat
A five minute Screeching Weasel track to kick of a comp? What are you; fucking nutty? To which I reply: King telepathic goat vagina in my shoe!!! Actually, it's a great song and just fit in at the beginning (and immediately preceding the Slackers track) really well. I kicked off the Fall WILT with 4 songs under 2 minutes, so this is my penance.
2) The Slackers - Wasted Days
from the 2001 album Wasted Days
Great rocksteady track from the third-wave Ska band that tastes like a first-wave Ska band. That's good( I think). And, no, I haven't actually tasted any of them. It's a figure of speech, sheesh.
3) The Murder City Devils - Somebody Else's Baby
from the 2000 album In Name and Blood
It's rare that a band comes around and re-writes all the rules. The Murder City Devils were one of those bands. Back in the Late 90's when I first heard them, they sounded like nothing I'd ever heard before, but still reminded me a lot of the Detroit/New York late 60's/ early 70's proto-punk bands. The best I could ever do to sum them up was: "If The Heartbreakers were a Motown Band". That still doesn't nail it. All I know is that since they came around, a bunch of half-assed clones have followed.
4) The Anniversary - The Siren Sings
from the 2002 album Your Majesty
This song was written back in '01, so the lyric "Castaway from New Orleans" is just a poetic turn of phrase. Not a literal reference to some CHUD on a plywood raft.
This band has an uncanny knack for writing songs that get caught in your head. I love 'em; now if they could just write a song that would knock that fucking John Cougar "America" song outta there, I'd be eternally grateful.
5) Elliot Smith - King's Crossing
from the 2004 album From a Basement on a Hill
Well, this song already has the PDawg stamp of approval, so I must be on the right track.
This one almost didn't make the final cut, because I figured that including any song with a 2 minute intro was pushing my luck, and I had to cut about 6 songs from my original list. In the end, I realized that this song was way too good not to make it.
This is from Elliot Smith's final (posthumous) album, and the whole fucking record plays like his suicide note. Of all of them, this one is probably the most overt of the bunch. Kinda morbid, in retrospect, but still damned good.
6) Can - Vitamin C
from the 1972 album Ege Bamyasi
Can was one of the pioneers of the "Krautrock" movement. Kraftwerk was the other one. They were polar opposites; Can was loose and wild, Kraftwerk was cold and precise. I like 'em both, but still can't believe that no one remembers Can. Especially since I hear much more of their influence in the indie scene. Bah; Kids these days.
Note of interest: The band 'Mooney Suzuki' took their name from the surnames of the first two singers of Can (Malcolm Mooney and Damo Suzuki).
7) Manorexia - Helicobra
from the 2001 album volvox TURBO (no direct link)
Another groove-pounding track from J.G. Thirlwell (Foetus, Steroid Maximus, Venture Brothers soundtrack). As I've stated here before, this guy has been one of my musical heroes for going on 20 years.
When I conquer the world, I'll have this track blasting over the loudspeakers as I ride bare-chested astride a war-painted elephant, parading down Constitution avenue with the entrails of my enemies strewn across the blossoming cherry trees and their spines artfully arranged into my throne at the base of the Washington Monument. Just wait, it'll be soooo cool.
8) Lee Hazlewood - Dark in My Heart
from the 2002 compilation Complete MGM Recordings (1965-'67)
I got interested in Lee Hazlewood when I read that Boyd Rice (NON) was supposed to play a character based on him in the Anders movie Grace of My Heart. It piqued my interest, and I finally broke down and picked up this compilation of his stuff. It's pretty good stuff. Not quite country, not quite rock, not quite lounge - It's a totally different animal altogether. It's cheesy, yet serious - silly, yet profound. All I know is that I like it.
9) M.O.T.O. - We Are the Rats
from the 2002 album Kill MOTO
I really should have put this track in two spaces down, but I figured that this was a good place for a swift kick in the ass. Nothing sez 'kick in the ass' like MOTO. They're about as fancy as a lead pipe, but they hit just as hard.
10) Even In Blackouts - Darker Days
from the 2006 album Fall of the House of Even
Ed had once mentioned franchising The Magnificent Ambersons. I think John "Jughead" Pierson from Screeching Weasel beat him to it. The more Even in Blackouts records I hear, the more I'm convinced that there is more than one copy of 'Ambersongs' in the band's collective record collection. Maybe I'm crazy; you tell me. This is a damn fine track off of their new one.
11) The Methadones - Goodbye to You
from the 2006 album 21st Century Power Pop Riot
Annie Soviette takes the helm from Danny Vapid for this cover of a Scandal song. The Methadones are starting to get some (much deserved) recognition now, and it seems like they put out this collection of power-pop covers just because they wanted to (and could). It works - I've been listening to this thing over and over again.
12) The Lillingtons - All I Hear is Static
from the 2006 album The Too Late Show
This is the track that delayed the whole shebang. I accidentally dropped it, and just couldn't leave it off. This track is from the new (and final) Lillingtons record. I really, really, really wish that I'd have gotten a chance to see them before they disbanded, but it just wasn't in the cards. Double dammit!
13) Me First & the Gimme Gimmes - On the Road Again
from the 2006 album Love Their Country
The boys from NOFX, Lagwagon, Swingin' Utters, and Foo Fighters are back with a brand spankin' new Gimme Gimmes record. This time it's all country-western songs, and it rocks some serious ass. This track justifies inclusion for the intro alone.
14) Drag the River - Leavin' in the Morning
from the 2006 album It's Crazy
This is the first track from the new DtR record. It's perfect music for a long night drinkin', a long drive, or both.
15) Tom Waits - Long Way Home
from the 2006 limited-edition compilation Orphans
The hardest decision I had to make while making this mix was which of the 54 songs from Orphans to throw on this mix. I picked a good one, but there are many other songs from this set that I wish I could include. If you can still find a copy of the limited edition that hasn't had the price jacked WAY up, buy it.
16) Louden Wainwright III - Good Ship Venus
from the 2006 compilation Rogue's Gallery
Huge thanx go out to Mark and Jeanne for sending me out this comp. It has served me well on long roadtrips, and before many nights out drinkin'. Nothing like a bunch of bawdy sea-shanties to get ya in that pirate frame of mind. It's amazing that I haven't been arrested yet.
17) Mark Linskey - Blazing Souls
from the 2003(?) album Songs of Freedom (no link found)
I should just call Mark to get all of that missing information, but don't want to bother him over my gay little mix-tape. This album is comprised of a bunch of great solo-acoustic songs from my good buddy Mark (Hudson Falcons) Linksey. It's amazing looking over this tracklisting at how many bands on all of the WILT mixes are from people I met back in the 7DA days. Good times - Thank Christ they're over.
18) Neko Case - The Needle Has Landed
from the 2006 album Fox Confessor Brings the Flood
I'm really digging this new Neko Case record. So is Gundy, and The Girl, and my Mom, and.. I think that the universe just imploded.
19) Bad Astronaut - Disarm
from the 2002 album Houston: We Have a Drinking Problem
No, It's not a Smashing Pumpkins cover, Yeesh. You should know better.
Man, I love this song. Think 70's space-rock opera meets bay-area pop-punk. That's some tasty stuff, right there. Plus, it has one of my favorite lines from any song ever: I'm not cutting you down - I'm just carrying the axe. Fucking brilliant.
20) Faith No More - Just a Man
from the 1995 album King for a Day, Fool for a Lifetime
Ask a bunch of people who worked in record stores in the mid-90s to list their top 10 records of that decade, and I'll guarantee you that half of 'em will have Faith No More's 'Angel Dust' on that list. That was the first FNM record when Mike Patton had a firm grip on the reigns, and his madness was allowed to thrive. I liked that album so much that I bought (but rarely listened to) the 2 following FNM albums.
One day I got a wild hair, and decided to load the latter 2 discs, 'King' & 'Album of the Year', onto my iRiver. I was blown away at how good they sounded a decade later. This track is wonderful in it's simplicity. Hell, it could blend seamlessly into any Broadway musical sore, but beneath the full chorus you can feel the subversive undertones shining through.
21) Jason Webley - Icarus
from the 2004 album Only Just Beginning
I knew immediately that I had to include this song right after that Faith No More track. About 2 seconds after I decided to include 'Just A Man' I knew that 'Icarus' was to follow. Period - End - Set it in stone. Here's another superb track by Mr. Webley to add to the WILT coffers.
22) Electric Six - I Wish This Song Was Louder
from the 2006 album Switzerland
Holy Shit, what a great fucking song title! It's genius, I tell ya. I may be the highly suggestible type ( Yes... I... Am), but I cant get through this track without goosing up the volume knob just a bit. E6 is going back on tour (yet) again. Be sure to catch 'em when they hit your neck of the woods.
23) McLusky - Flysmoke
from the 2003 album My Pain & Sadness is More Sad & Painful Than Yours
I knew that I needed a seriously good song to end this WILT on. McLusky; Up to the plate. Home run - Game over. Done, done, and done. And be sure to remember: Only the lonely go out.
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You know the drill: Send your address (if I don't already have it) to dclies(at)gmail.com, and I'll send you out a CD - If I do have your address, you still need to send in a request, so I'm not just sending these things out willy-nilly. As always, it's free of any charge, cuz you just can't hang a price on quality. Remember, I'm only doing 50 of these, and it's first come-first served. Hop to it, Chachi.

There were a shitload of tracks that I wanted to include on this one, that I just didn't have room for. Incidentally, I almost have the Spring WILT fleshed out. Pretty soon, I'll have to invent a new season in order to squeeze in another WILT.
Look for the "Sprinter" WILT sometime in Smarch.

Setback

I just realized that I had inadvertently dropped track #12 from the Fall W.I.L.T. CD - This never happens when I throw together a mix CD half-wasted, but the one time I do it stone-cold sober - Lose a turn, move back two spaces. Now I have to go back and re-record the whole damned thing (while good and drunk).
I'm just glad that I caught my mistake before I burned off a load of these things. Thank god for procrastination and pro-football.

Look for the WILT post sometime late Tuesday/early Wednesday.

Rejected

I spent a good chunk of today recording the new WILT & working on the artwork. Here's my original design for the cover that The Girl 86ed:If Big Drag UK needs an (oddly appropriate) album cover, it's all yours.
I guess elephantitis isn't everyone's bag (pun intended), and I figured that I had disturbed enough of you fine folks with the Xmas compilation artwork. I redid it with the same background, but went more subtle with the photoshoppin'. Can't win 'em all.

Look for the full WILT post sometime Monday or Tuesday. Until then, here's the tracklisting:

Awake

It's 5:20 in the AM out here in DC (and a balmy 52 degrees*). I'm still awake.
I actually went to bed at midnight, but it didn't take, so I've been up since then ironing out the "Winter" WILT**.
There's something about the dead of night that's great for getting things done. I can't focus on much of anything when sunlight enters the equation, but as soon as it's the pitch black illuminated by a cheap halogen bulb, I start to focus with the precision of a end-of-days death laser.
I don't understand it, but I don't much care. For the next two months I'm essentially getting paid not to go to work, so it all works out - as far as I figure, I don't have to see daylight until sometime in March.
The DC smoking ban went into effect at the start of the new year, so I'm perfectly content to spend my weeknights getting my drunk on in front of the computer keyboard and pounding out nonsense (such as this) in the wee hours of the morning.
It's probably for the best - I've got all the time in the world, a well stocked bar, and no need to hit the sheets until daybreak. I may not be proud, but I'm happy.

Update: It's 8AM, the sun is up, and I'm ready for sleep. Nosferataloser.
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*It's supposed to break 70 later today.
**It totally fucking rocks; seriously.
***During the daylight hours, so (of course) I got distracted and had to shelve it.

Leprechaun 'n tha Hood, or Just Another Crack Head?

There isn't anything about this You Tube clip that I don't love.
Thanx to The Girl for sending this my way.

Plot Twist

Sorry I’ve been slacking on the blog lately. This time of year is just hard for me and I haven’t felt in a very chatty mood.

As many of you know, my grandfather killed himself back early in the morning of December 31st, 1999. They found him later that day with the upper part of his skull blown out by a 12-gauge double-aught buck shell. It was a fucking mess.
The crazy motherfucker did it slumped against his own headstone. The old man was always big on production, but short on foresight – Probably why the whole thing blew up into such a huge rigermarole.
You probably heard the story; an elderly grieving widow found him and succumbed to a heart attack right there and then. Some nice old lady from Skokie – Dead as disco.
Well, the whole sorted story got picked up by the national news media, and the cable news networks had a fucking field day with it. My grandfather’s estate was sued by the family of the dead woman. Hell, they sued everybody; our family, the cemetery, The City of Chicago, and even the State of Illinois.

In order to give you the full story, I have to backtrack a few decades here, sorry: My grandmother had died in a car accident back in the early ‘70s, and my grandfather was utterly heartbroken. He used up all of his money he had at his disposal to buy a dual burial plot at the nicest cemetery in Chicago. He sold his house and his Buick to pay for a huge 12-foot tall ornate engraved stone monument for my grandmother (and someday himself). Therein lies the rub – He was in his 60s at the time and never foresaw living another twenty-odd years. Below his name read: 1907 – 19(blank-blank).
According to his suicide note, he killed himself because didn’t want to ruin the damned monument by having to sand-down and re-carve his part of the headstone. It wouldn't match. It would throw-off the whole aesthetic.
Fuck, he was 92 and had recently been diagnosed with cancer, so he only had a year left anyway... Two years tops.
According to the note, he figured that he’d had a good run, and didn’t want to go through the ordeal of wasting away in constant pain, anyhow. So, BANG!

Here’s the kicker; since he did it against his monument, the whole fucking thing was covered in blood and gore. It stained – Bad. The county health department wouldn’t even release it into our custody for us to move it. Granted, at that point we really didn’t want to use it. It was a gruesome sight, but we figured that we should cede to grandpa’s emphatic (although, deeply flawed) determination.
Furthermore, the ensuing lawsuit against the cemetery caused Rosehill to void my grandfather’s lease on the burial lot, which meant we had to dig up grandma and plant them both in some cut-rate shithole plot out in the exurbs.
Their graves still remain unmarked seven years later.

I guess that’s the price you pay in pursuit of perfection.
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Okay, that was all just a huge lie. None of it ever happened. I've just been lazy with the bloggin' lately, nothingmore.

I was at President Ford's state funeral today, and the premise for this story came to me during the wait before the service began. Sitting quietly for two hours straight on a fold-out wooden chair while listening to ominous organ music is a pretty good way to get a couple of story ideas.

I'd been meaning to get some more short original prose up here, and the story wouldn't have worked as well with the disclaimer at the top. If you're pissed (alla the Drinky Joe April-Fools Day fiasco), I'm sorry. By now, all of you should know better. Hell, try reading the masthead once in awhile.

I still need to get up a self-indulgent holiday wrap-up on here, and I'm putting together the Winter WILT soon, so look for some straight-forward L&E posts over the next few days.
And remember, I hit you because I love you. Now sing the songs like I told you to sing the songs!