Sunday, July 24, 2005

Rhapsody In Drew

So I've decided to move my nonsense here instead. Old ish is still around though. Like anyone cares.

I went back to Maryland this weekend, and it was fun as per usual. Did a bit of the drinking/awkwardly running into people you haven't seen in eight years down in Towson on Friday. Wasn't not fun. Saturday, Michelle, Costello and I attempted to see "Wedding Crashers" because everyone and their cousin has been telling me how amazingly funny it is. We got the the theater a bit late, but figured we were still okay. No dice, man; the ONLY movie available in the entire theater was "The Island." Now, I had actually considered watching this flick when I first saw previews because my girlfriend is in it, and it's just good to support her in a low-key, non-Hollywood way, you know? This wasn't the worst flick I've ever seen, but I certainly was not amazed. The dude Michael Bay is always putting insanely over-the-top violence/explosions in his movies, but this flick honestly rivaled "Bad Boys 2" in terms of sheer automotive destruction. Apparently, this was the first movie Bay has done without Jerry "Affleck and Willis flying into space and drill-bombing an asteroid the size of Texas seems like a plausible plot for a movie" Bruckheimer. Weird. Anywho, Scarlett just makes weird, confused faces throughout and Ewan doesn't really put too much effort into acting. Don't see that.



Back then hoes didn't want to party hard. Now
I'm hot, hoes all want to party 'til they puke.

I feel as though Mike Jones is the Andrew WK of hip-hop, and vice-versa. Their bizarre-but-effective approach towards fan relations is a big part of both of their successes. Mike Jones spits his damn phone number in his songs all the time so fans can call him; four friends of mine (and I only have like five friends) have met Andrew WK randomly on the street or somewhere and said he was amazingly engaging. They have a similar thing going with their music, too; it's not like i really consider "Back Then" or "I Love New York City" any of their songs excellent examples of musicianship/stellar performances or anything, but for some reason they just make me feel good. I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy rocking out to this shit in the four-door Civic while people in other cars look at me like it's illegal to have fun or something. Eff all of yous, I have no shame with banging this shit as much as I want. I think Mike and Andrew should do a song or album or the rest of their careers together. Could you even imagine that shit? Andrew would be like banging on the damn grand piano wearing a furcoat and dirty-ass white jeans in the middle of an empty house and Mike would just be there repeating his name over and over, getting his teefs polished or talking to Paul Wall on Nextel chirp. Mike WK? Andrew Jones? Andruw Jones? I think Mike WK is the best.



I know what you're thinking ladies, and
the answer is yes, I DO address my hair
in the vosotros verb form. When are the
Olympics coming back to Barcelona? VIVA!

If you're feeling bored or miserable, read my review of the new Prefuse 73 EP on Okayplayer. I liked this shit a lot. Prefuse has always been a favorite of mine, but sometimes he gets way too visceral and abstract and loses me. This EP was different because he was exclusively mixing sounds from The Books, who are some hyper-hip duo from Taxachusetts that are so cool it's not cool to pretend like you know who they are even if you do. They apparently play the guitar and cello but then go back and mix their own samples with "found sounds" and then they get coffee, read up on Rovegate and bite their thumbs at anyone wearing any type of sports logo. The EP sounds good when you listen to it all at once; it's good background-type relaxing music, a departure from the usual craziness of dude Scott Herren. Good enough.

My newest project for this week is to review a record by some Scandanavian family band group of weirdos called The Concretes. I've only given the album a quick listen so far, but it strikes me as Nyquil for the ears. This shit is so fucking boring that it makes that dude Sufjan Stevens sound like fucking Ratt or something. That was a really bad analogy, and I'm sorry.

My favorite pair of jeans deteriorated into a poor holey mess a few months ago, and I've been hurt for favorite jeans since. I went to the goddamn Harford Mall today to try and get some pants at Gap because that's where my other ones were from. In case you are not familiar with Harford Mall in beautiful Bel Air, Maryland perform this quick visual exercise: picture any mall you've ever been to. Now, picture it with at least two fewer floors, a Deb, a sketchy pizza place that gives you the wrong change and more blood pressure kiosks that you could ever hit up. Yeah, it's the worst mall ever, but I digress.

As soon as I walked in I realized there was no longer a Gap in the mall. Fuck. I've never really thought I'd be upset by the lack of a Gap, but I really just wanted to get the damn generic jeans and be done with it. Believe it or not, I ended up going into godforesaken American Eagle hoping they might have some cheaper shit. I found a pair of jeans that was decent for like 40 bucks, so I grabbed them (note: this was all while Juelz Santana's "Mic Check" was playing in the store). Out of nowhere, I'm blindsided by this Taye Diggs-looking employee dude who started asking me strange shit about the jeans I picked. "Are they boot-cut? What kind of wash is it? Oh, the light wash. Girls like the light wash. You know, I had to try on like 30 pairs of jeans here before I found ones I liked. Dude, these jeans will last you 30 years." I didn't really understand dude's logic; when would it ever be necessary for you to tell me that you had to try on 30 pairs of jeans before you found those special slacks? It either means that the jeans at your store suck, or that you are really picky about your jeans and therefore you suck kinda too. Also, I'll be really impressed if I'm rocking this shit when I'm 51. Those other jeans didn't even last more than a year, man.

I had a conversation about this exact same thing this weekend. Cheap mothers. That "shitty tipper" website is really funny, too. I'm not sure if it is the same one, but awhile back I found shit that was more of an archive for celebrities and how they tip. Apparently, Quentin Tarantino is among the most assholeish. I remember it saying that he brought in a party of about 20, completely trashed the table, and left a $10 tip on a close to $1000 bill underneath a pile of napkins, silverware and plates. Oh, Q.

When I was at home, I found a project that I did in kindergarten in one of my drawers. I didn't understand it at first, but then I realized that our teacher had us draw a picture of everyone in the class, then each person got all their drawings from everyone and it was put together into a book. When I found it I had a vague childhood memory of drawing one of my classmates playing soccer, and I kinda remembered that we were instructed to draw our classmates doing something they were, for lack of a better word, "known" for on the kindy scene (eating the most paste, fitting the most marbles into one's mouth, speaking out against the injustice of naptime by screaming like a fucking madman). As I flipped through, I noticed a bunch of pictures had me with a speech bubble that said "1..2..3." I could only take this to mean that I was either good or known for counting the first three numbers out loud. This didn't really make sense to me though because I've always hated math and I feel that my animosity towards the subject was developing even back then. Anyway, some of these pictures are hilarious and look just like me while others freak me out (like some Ring shit). I'll post some up.

1 comment:

Graham said...

Dude im impressed, im glad you decided to move out of the myspace basement and devote your time to a real blog. As flattered as I am about your link to my own blog, Ive already forgotten my login name... so I will have to make another one- TA!