we love bluetooth because when a song randomly plays on the jukebox at a bar where niqui is drinking beer — a song niqui really ought to know who did it — she can hop online and figure out that it’s supertramp, “breakfast in america.”
(niqui ought to have known it because, let’s face it, the guy’s voice is … memorable.) although — what the fuck is it with people who see me on the laptop in the bar and walk up to me, asking, “is that a blog?” … jesus! okay, yes, it is, but… goddammit. that’s it. i’m going to pull out the laptop more randomly and less to write down, and blog, random moments, from here on out. you hear that? from here on out i’m fucking pulling out the laptop in bars to, like, calculate pi. motherfuckers! also: who the hell played supertramp??? especially followed by smashing pumpkins? what are you, schizophrenic?with a hat-tip to jon, wherever he is these days.
A Simple Desultory Philippic (Or How I Was Robert McNamara’d Into Submission) i been norman mailered, maxwell taylored;
i been john o’hara’d, mcnamara’d;
i been rolling stoned and beatled till I’m blind.
i been ayn randed, nearly branded a communist ’cause I’m left-handed.
that’s the hand I use–well, never mind. i been phil spectored, resurrected,
i been lou adlered, barry sadlered.
well, i paid all the dues i want to pay!
and i learned the truth from lenny bruce,
and all of my wealth won’t buy me health
so i smoke a pint of tea a day. i knew a man, his brain so small
he couldn’t think of nothing at all.
not the same as you and me–
he doesn’t dig poetry.
he’s so unhip that when you say “dylan,” he thinks you’re talking about dylan thomas–whoever he was.
the man ain’t got no culture!
but it’s alright, ma;
everybody must get stoned. i been mick jaggered, been silver daggered;
andy warhol, won’t you please come home?
I been mothered, fathered, aunt and uncled,
been roy haleed and art garfunkeled…
i just discovered somebody’s tapped my phone! folk rock.
i’ve lost my harmonica, albert.
i am offended at everyone’s “best of 2004″ music lists. why are iron & wine making them so much, and the killers NOT ALL FUCKING ALL?
iron & wine == whiny fuckers.the killers == fucking rock out. YOU PEOPLE ARE ALL WRONG.
* niqui contemplates snow.
you know, i have the best weather prediction method in the world. it’s all about my shoes. whatever conditions my footwear is inappropriate for is what we’re going to get, but only once i’m out of the house and stuck with those shoes.
the other day when i had to trek halfway across the city in sleet and rain, i was in converse all-stars. (at least i had worn the pair with fewer holes that day.)
today, after it cleverly didn’t snow on my windows or the neighbors’, so i thought that it had probably just pretended to snow, i wore shoes that don’t even cover my ankle bones and have two inch heels. non-ideal footwear for standing in 8 inch plowed drifts while scraping ice off the car.
bah.
it probably only snowed 2″ or so overnight, which was about what was predicted. so that was no trouble at all really. but now it’s coming down in great, gleeful abundance. as it looks like it will probably continue to do for a while.
From: Gentleness I. Adjectival <expletive@facultyshack.com>
