Thursday, December 27, 2012

Go Fuck A Robot 2012

Please to enjoy this ten track playlist, curated by me, for all of your robot seduction and digital romance needs:




 

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Some Musings On Yo La Tengo

1. I believe that, had Yo La Tengo been stationed on this rooftop playing this song just prior to Hurricane Sandy making landfall, the storm would have simply stopped spinning and fallen lifeless into the sea.

2. I believe it is possible that what Ira is doing here with this guitar could be considered a breach of his marital vows.




3. Perhaps you need a palate cleanser after you were so thoroughly undone by that last song:

Thursday, July 5, 2012

You're Edward Kelley, She's Madimi

A Conversation Between Myself And Two Small Children At A Fourth Of July BBQ

Small Child # 1: "What are you drinking?"

Me: "Campari and Orange Juice."

Small Child # 1: "Is Campari alcohol?"

Me: "It is; it's a kind of Italian bitters."

Small Child # 1: "Is the orange juice because it tastes bad without it?"

Me: "I wouldn't say bad, but it's kind of bitter and the orange juice is kinda sweet, and it's, like a lot of things, kind of an acquired taste, so."

Small Child # 2: "My dad eats bad dreams!"

Me: "Your dad eats bad dreams? what is he, some kind of psychic vampire? that's terrifying."

Small Child # 2: "He eats bad dreams and then he eats alcohol!"

Small Child # 1: "You can't eat alcohol, not unless you freeze it or something."

Me: "Or make it into jello, I guess."

Small Child # 1: "And anyway, nobody drinks just alcohol."

Me: "Sure they do. I do."

Small Child # 1: "But I heard alcohol is poison."

Me: "Well, yeah, it is. That's sorta how it works, actually."

Small Child # 1 (with incredulous look on his face): "So it's a poison? That makes you feel happy."

Me: " . . . That's . . . well, actually that's exactly what it is, yes."

Small Child # 2: "My dad eats bad dreams and alcohol and then he turns it into jello and puts it in his hair and then he eats his hair!"

Me: "Your dad may have an eating disorder called 'Pica'"

Small Child # 2: "And he's SO STINKY!!"

Me: "It's hardly surprising, considering his diet."

Watermelon Disappointment Sounds Like A Progrock Band

Grocery Store - Interior - Day - The Fourth of July

Cashier: "Picking up a watermelon for the big BBQ, huh?"

Me: "Yup. I hope it turns out to be a good one. I don't really know what I'm doing, picking out watermelons; I just sort of slap them and listen to the sound for some reason. I don't even know what I'm listening for."

Cashier: "Looks like a good one to me!"

Me: "So watermelons come from the Sahara Desert. They grew naturally around oases, buried in the sand. Arab traders used to gather them up and load their saddle bags up with them to take across the desert. Isn't that wonderful?"

Cashier: "Noooooooo, it isn't!"

Friday, June 22, 2012

Monday, June 18, 2012

I Agree With You, Beth, But The Thing Is:

Sometimes you take a job in another state because you thought it would be best for you and would be temporary or whatever and then you buy a house because you thought it would be an investment but then the job goes pear-shaped and the economy collapses and you can't sell your house without losing a ridiculous amount of money and then you get a job as a professor and you really like it so it seems crazy to throw that away but still you feel like a man out of place in his own life a lot of the time.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

Saturday, April 28, 2012

I Prefer My Weezy With An Esau Mwamwaya Glaze, If You Please

The Happiest Day Of My Life

So yesterday I'm walking across campus and I'm sort of not paying attention and I must have veered slightly to the left or something and I collided with the unicyclist who was just then passing me from behind, causing him to bobble and fall over.

This was the greatest thing that has happened to me in YEARS.

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

The Chiara Heresies VII

I come into the kitchen to find Chiara staring intently at several photos on facebook of a rather nondescript looking priest.

"I went to school with this guy," she says with a hint of wonder and confusion.

"And now he's a priest?" I ask.

"Well," she says, "he always was weird."

Dominatrixes Are People, Too (Even When They Ruin Perfectly Good Corduroy Jackets)