First, the quotables:
"What ruins polka for me is that it's all guys from Minnesota singing about milk and cookies"
I laugh. "Or cheese and bread!"
"Or the Mall of America!"
"Okay, I've figured it out. They're either gay or German or gay and German."
"I can see them being all those possibilites."
"Yeah, they totally seem like they're gonna make out. They need to just get it on already."
"That's the cute girl? She's not even that cute!"
"I. Know!"
More TK.
Wonderful yet totally absurd.
Mocky, How Will I Know You
Jamiroquai, Do You Know Where You're Coming From
Roy Davis Jr, I Know What You're Thinking
Hall & Oates, Gino (The Manager) (blame my Yacht Rock marathon)
Kenny Loggins, This Is It
I ripped the whole Steely Dan boxset (and what?!) to my Zen the other day. To say I'm on a kick would be an understatement. I want to go to the Atlantic City show. It's a SD/Michael McDonald double bill. All my Yacht Rock dreams come true! Man, I loved that show. I'm so sad it's gone.
I was stuck upstate half the weekend and had the chance to sit around watch videos mindlessly for a bit. Cassie really is a Ciara knockoff. That's like someone making a Conway version of a Chinatown Prada bag. Totally unnecessary. Deja Vu is the latest in highly stupid disjointed videos. Look at B shake her fake hair! Is she in Savannah? WTF is up with all the gloves? Zero dramatic tension in the video. Her wide-eyed look face shows what a crap actress she is. And the "hey everybody, look what I learned in African dance class" section is just even more bizarre. Someone stop putting Keyshia Cole and her non-singing ass on songs. She's like the famous version of the teenage girls on the bus who wouldn't know how to stay on key if they're life depending on it. Enough with the wet cat sounds. Hate!
DFA79 broke up...that's a shame. That was a kickass live show (minus the idiotic "banter").
I can't remember for the life of me where I got this link from but this is hilarious. Dude was a super dirty old man:
I have a hard time letting go sometimes. I'm a hard, self-possessed bitch who lives and dies on first impressions and if we start off on the wrong foot, it's never getting good. But the ones that pass and get through some of the layers, they gain a person who will be selfless to the point of ridiculousness and always care even when I shouldn't. It's not an eternal thing (e.g. Mr. Sailor), but sometimes even after falling out# 2,027681(e.g. Farmer), part of me still feels like I'm connected to them until one day it just finally sinks in to cut my losses.
It's more than partially me. I've got a million things going on and I like to be involved in a lot, weaving my way in and out of different areas. I like to know things, I like to learn about stuff that's new, I'm always open to share what I've gathered. But, I'm not an out there social animal and I'm usually low-key to a fault. And I like to get my kicks when I can. I like the guys with the big personalities that do "crazy" stuff or the ones so relaxed generally that I look manic in comparison. Usually some combo of the two.
Like the boy. When I first met him, I thought he wasn't like anyone I know. That, of course, was discovered not to be true as time passed. He and Farmer are two peas in a pod, with the extreme personality replaced by dogged intensity. There's something about the dynamic between us that bothers me in the same way. I'm always sitting back and playing the supportive audience, the second fiddle, the sounding board. I don't like myself when I'm with him. So, it's kinda strange that picture defacing aside, I've been wrangling with extracting myself. I tried the no contact thing fairly successfully for a while until the other week when I was feeling kicked puppyish and he made rare supportive noises that made me feel better temporarily. That lasted until about Thursday.
I'd been bored and feeling random after a semi-rough week and I reached out to him to hang. He was drunk and monologuing from the start about his new "friend" (he's so transparent) who makes so much money (we actually calculated it...and I'm not even shitting you) and supposedly has an awesome place in Midtown and had taken him out for drinks earlier and he was going out to the movies with the next day and walks on water in shoes lined with cash or whatever. OMG, someone who makes a lot of money and lives large and makes people jealous -- though not intentially because they're the most awesome person in the universe? Someone alert the press to that super special person! It was especially so fascinating when you're hearing about it for an hour or more. And his new job working in Manhattan. Dude, commuting is hard...apparently. Oh, how's my newish job? Who cares! How's my dad who just had neurosurgery less than two weeks ago? Eh...let's talk about that another time. Let's talk more about how you hate NYC fakers and the demands people make on your time....minus that awesome rich "friend!" Ladies and gentlemen, if like me you wondered back in junior high English class if a real-life Holden Caufieldesque person would be utterly insufferable, let me tell you: yes.
I was actually hating him more than a little bit and that was before we went to this random party and he disappeared on me and then got snippy when I got tired of sitting in one spot and wandered away on my own. But, this was the same guy who didn't want to date (officially) yet got mad at me because I wouldn't count the non-dating as dating anyway being a stickler for technicalities. Waiting for the train back to Brooklyn, he pushed me over the edge and I snapped "stop fucking talking, you're so annoying" and wandered away down the platform, wondering why I was just torturing myself by hanging out with him in the first place.
He's outlived his usefulness. I don't like him. He's not particularly nice or cool or insightful or interesting. He looks stupider than he acts. And there's not even the all those trumping factor of us hooking up counteract that. He's got zero that I want or need in my life. At this point, I should just never talk to him and/or kick him in the balls. But, I'm just irritating myself by turning back when I shouldn't. It's a disease really and knowing that it's wrong should count for something.
Er, so I really fixed the comments this time. Sorry to Alafairnadia and the creatively named theglow@shonuffizabeeatch.com for the rejection. Re-comment away!
It's a fucking scorcher in the city. 110 heat index for today and Wednesday. Utterly brutal! Needless to say, the bike is staying at home until it has passed. I'm really not trying to pass out from heat stroke in the middle of Fulton St or something.
To all those who've expressed their concern over the past post: eh, you know me. It's usually all doom and gloom cryptic-cakes, but not for the reasons you'd think or as bad as I made it out to be. It's mostly all good. Minus the fact August is going to be a really financially tight month for me. No Chicago trip. Sorry, Trendvickster and David! But, guess who's getting lean and mean? Try the girl who lives on the top of a hill and has to carry her bike up four flights of stairs!
Weirdness of the week: I inadvertantly got the urge to check up on Farmer and I found out that he's like buddies (at least photographically) with my favorite Soda waitress. No way! Why he can't be friends with the bitch we all hate who almost got her ass handed to her last week? Ugh. He's tainting everything!
We're very much on Ghostly's jock right now (and so is XLR8R!) ...and in a parallel aside, if you can identify this DJ (we suspect Bodycode cause that's what we think we heard at that party), you might be my new best friend. ETA: It's Adam X. Music critics are good for something after all! We should've known better to listen to an idiot tripping off Sparks. He did play Bodycode though, if I'm not mistaken. Speaking of that party, it was fun as hell and kids were even dancing. But the obscene amounts of alcohol might have helped with that. I even quipped: "since when do fucking hipsters like techno?" That is the question of the summer.
Believe it or not, someone called me "Candizzle" yesterday and my head didn't explode. I only made a half-hearted threat of bodily harm even. While smiling. Ugh. I'm getting soft in my old age. I'm such a sucker for a pretty face.
