Recently in Web Roundup Category

The "it's not like I have something else better to do" edition.

I might be the last person to jump on the YouTube bandwagon, but there's an 80s videos playlist. Oh hell fucking yeah! It's like VH1 Classic, but not having to leave the room to watch. Awesome!

There's something pretty damned cool about saying: Academy Award winners Three 6 Mafia! The performance itself was pretty much only interesting for the incredulity of seeing a choreographed pimps and hoes tableau and Taraji Henson (terrible dress aside) singing her ass off like "yeah, that's right. I'm singing the hook. Who cares if I may never make it to this stage again?!" Plus it's good to see some non-coached to the point of barely showing any emotion winners for a change.

Spin band of the day: Man Man!

Things are...interesting lately over on the nabe site. The two topics are pretty similar to me really with the whole junior Crimestopper, vaguely crusaderish "teach him a lesson!" strain going through them. Total powderkeg in my opinion.

I'll admit from the start that it was my own fault. What the hell was I doing in the Music section anyways? I stopped reading ages ago because I realized it was better for my blood pressure to stay away. My throwaway line back here prompted an email calling for some constructive criticism and I think I responded helpfully, even if that was the last of it and I haven't checked to see if there was a change. I accepted that the tag team action was on the irritating side and decided to play out of sight, out of mind. But then I saw this lovely screed on the X-Clan/Jr. Gong show that went down the other week and there was only response I could have: off with his piss-filled head and then burn the body.

I used to be a bit of an apologist. The other one was just revelling in being a bad writing chump and this one at least had some sort of drollness about him. And he's a big Man Man supporter, so how bad can he be? But no, fuck him. Fuck him in the eye. Fuck the entire pair of crack-addled, ass-scratching monkeys they call "music bloggers" over at the Voice. I hope they're the first ones to get the pink slip when the new boss comes in.

Because then I won't have to be killed with the "cleverness."

"For the Babies" was too pro-life an encore that night ("You're wrong, dude!" someone shouted), but radio hits "Road to Zion" and "Jamrock" and a Shabba Ranks cameo got Marley off the coat hanger. But hey, at least he got on it

Lil Kim. Still on tour, Lil Kim goes from one corner of her cell to another singing "Lighters Up" and occasionally "Lighters Up (Reggaeton Remix)," which is "Lighters Up" with a very pronounced lisp. Pretending cinder blocks are her fans, she sometimes holds a lighter up near the block as if the block is holding the lighter, then gets taken to a nearby hospital for burning her finger.

So I'll bite: Why would Juvenile punch a baby? Probably because when you punch a baby, it makes a funny noise that sounds like rapping. But why punch a baby in the mouth? Probably because when you punch a baby in the mouth, sometimes it nibbles on your fingers. But wouldn't the baby cry a lot? Probably not--unless it's one of those wimpy babies (a dog).

Then again, maybe Juvenile is stuck in the metaphorical here--maybe this isn't an actual punch, but a crazy punch. Maybe, as three paragraphs in I'm beginning to suspect, Juvenile is "punching" babies for a special baby fraternity, membership to which is limited to Juvenile, Tony Yayo, and 45 of the awesomest, most punchable babies. The babies' moms can also join if they want.

Is there no way in the world to pull the plug on the shticky little fuck? He's not funny. He's not clever. He's usually ill-informed and ridiculous. He's the personification of that acne-ridden smug joker in school who held the class hostage with his "unrestrained" humor every time he opened his mealy little mouth. NO MAS. Throw him against the wall and take him out.

After almost 25 years of snow, we've decided that we like it as long as we don't have to go out and function in it. Pristine, just fallen snow: great. Dog-pissed, slushy, wet icy snow: shit. I'm amazed we didn't either drown or fall in today's journey to work and believe me, it was hard not to. Nothing says awesome like flooded boots in the morning!

So, you know I was pissed when the lady came onto the train doing her "praise Jesus!" shtick. And especially so when she plopped down next to me and started a-chattering with the lady beside her about how Jesus is everywhere. A little old man got on the train somewhere around Wall Street and he looked pretty dismayed that there was nowhere to sit as he shook and could barely hold onto the pole -- incidentally, right in front of that chick, now reading her prayer book and averting her eyes like the rest of us. I looked around as he did, hoping that someone would leave and he could take their spot, feeling kinda blah and lazy and tired, guilt tripping myself because I really hate seeing older people have to suffer around town. So, I got up at Park Place and he took my seat. He smiled at me and I went "eh...whatever" and took his place in front of preaching lady. Still awfully engrossed in the Lord's word. And I got a new seat at Chambers. That's my good deed for the holiday season. We now return to the "bah humbug" already in progress.

This week was a bit amusing overall. I've accepted the truth after so long: yes, I am a self-loathing hipster. I'm not proud obviously (being self-loathing and all), but I can deal with it. After all, what else would I be if C telling me this (new to me) piece of gossip that a certain supernova scenester-type (who may or may not be pictured here) does their wig and glasses shtick to hide the fact that they are a middle-aged sort perving after young idiotic sniffers. I think it's awesome personally. Reason #1 why I don't hang out half as much as I used to: you never know who'll crawl out from under a rock to talk to you. But when you're doing all the bad things, it's a part of the adventure. Natch.

Alafairnadia and I made a pilgrimage to the toy shoppe. I was especially up for it because after not thinking of the boy at all for a while (because of my short-attention span and all), it seemed like everyone was asking about him/us and then I started to wonder about him...and we're not going down that road. He literally is someone that can be better replaced with plastics. Flipping through this lame ass hipster "smut" mag, who did I see in a spread only half-naked (thank my lucky stars) but The DJ! You could've knocked me over with a feather. Especially since for once and for all, he's just not that hot and has the body of a 14-year old. Ugh. Oh, the dark days of former crushes! And then just to amuse myself, I picked up this glass/hard plastic toy and used it for emphasis as I chatted with Alafairnadia. There was this couple skulking around that got redder and redder as I did. "Oh noes! Someone is holding a sex toy in a sex toy shop! Horrors! We'll just have to get that Bend Over Boyfriend online! It's just embarrassing in here!" And they fled. Tsk, tsk.

The only thing I can think to write about at the moment is that MT says I have no comments because it's smoking crack, but I've got special whitelisting, so less comment approval work for me...yay! Ugh...I'm a fucking internet addicted geek, so let's be random and talk about music instead.

Question: If a Prefuse show happens and I didn't care enough to think about it, does it make a sound?

Man, we're just not feeling the new Tiga. And we were waiting pretty impatiently for that. Boo. It actually might be too 80s. Who would've thought that was a bad thing? But, we like the new song and the flasherrific site.

I'm the bitch of VH1 Soul and VH1 Classics. Songs I've been sorta embarassedly singing along to for the past week or so: Crosby, Stills, & Nash, "Southern Cross"' (yeah, man, I know...) and the hook to "Heard 'Em Say" (even though I hate nasal ass whathisname. He's like sub-Timberfake. The dude gets zero respect). But, if I see "I Should Have Cheated" one more time, I'm gonna lose it. I'm already turning the channel when it comes on. I don't like that chick and her stupid X-Men hair.

We're angry at Bill. All this time and no Jamiroquai post?! Was our bringing him to the concert in vain? Bill hath forsaken us!

Go check out Anthony's Top 50 of '05 in progress. He's smoking that fine vintage crack (Lohan? Crazy Frog? That truly terrible Trina song? Akon = "One of the few popular singers these days with a great voice and a penchant for restraint????" No, no, no, no!) But he's got pictures and it's funny.

An awesome (though that seems like a strange choice of words) article about the people caught up in the Lennon shooting 25 years ago. That should be way more than a Yahoo music blip.

Drunkies, just say no to fucking on the street! Because look what you get: your face on the cover of the NY Post. Hello, go find a bar bathroom at least. Sheesh. Kids nowadays. Her parents must be so proud. But, they should really because she could be a "pin up" whore like all the "cool" kids are doing nowadays. Thanks for giving them initiative to top you, chick.

Bill's doing his thing over at the music blog. One of my most fave songs from 702 (LV represent!) plus a "look how fly he used to be" style post on DeVante, the Jodeci obsession of a former friend from high school.

There's only one place in the city that I plan to be Thursday night. That would be bouncing between the bar area and the turntables at this joint:

Hello, I'm an obsessive! That's what I do!

A million apologies. Too much stuff is going on lately.

The title refers to two things -- one slightly amusing, the other not especially -- to do with the DH forums. The other day was a topic bruhaha over this article from the Daily News. Not surprisingly, a topic like that devolved fairly quickly and me, having a pretty slow day at work and jumping in the fray, got called a racist for my trouble. Jigga wha? It actually really pissed me off because it's very frustrating to be up against an ass who will twist even the smallest, most obvious thing into an attack you. Fuck that though. Sticks and stones and whatever. I was amused though that I ran to Farmer over IM like "ohmigod, some asshole called me a racist? I'm not a racist, right?!" a la "please, white friend, comfort me and tell me it's okay!" Heh.

The second thing is that Cupcake mistakenly thought that Ant was gay, right on the heels of someone else asking me the same thing recently. I was telling him about the big R word being thrown at me and he suggested that I write back to the dude that "I'm not a racist, but my gaysian roommate is!" And I figured it blog-worthy.

Blah. Some things you just gotta be there for.

Yeah...whatever I said about newly having my free time back was a fucking lie. I've gotten the crap slammed out of me at work this week. I'm so glad that the weekend is finally here. I couldn't take another day of crazy working. The plan (unless I oversleep like I have twice this week) is to be to work at 8:30ish and hopefully be out by 6:30/7. Yes, this week is kinda sucks to be me.

Not to imply it hasn't been fun. I made time to apparently take up take up a mid-week residency at Soda. Tuesday night, I went to meet up with Mr. Now (for lack of a better pseudonym) I guess and while I was waiting, one of the neighbors strolled up to me. I was neutral and we chatted for a min and he offered that I should knock if I needed anything in a way that made my skin crawl. Yeah...hold your breath for that, son. He slinked off and soon after the boy came along and I smiled and everything was good. Back to the same bat station the next night for the weekly happy hour episode #1. I've got some pretty cool neighbors and we had a great time. With the bonus of spawning a hilarious thread on the board. You know I must've been worn out to say:

Hipsters are like chihuahuas, I'm Lucky the Ghetto Poodle. Both are little bitches, but I'm more entertaining.

In the meantime, read up at Four Four (categories on Tyra Banks, ANTM, and other crackhead-filled shows plus music!) and Angry Black Bitch. I should even finally getting around to posting the Prefuse boat show wrapup...like Sundayish. Hopefully.

The greatest thing today is my Zen on random play. It's pretty much the only nod I have in the regular to my KISS-FM listening roots. It's like my player has a mind of its own that says, "fuck the Dabrye and Man Man for one day, please. We're playing Silk, Avant, and Babyface all day because we can!" Yes, my mp3 player is jam-packed with Quiet Storm booty-smacking jams. And what?

I was complaining to Bill that I got this email from some freaking random, all conversational-like providing me with links to go hear their music. No thanks, Mr. Random. I don't actually give a crap about your music because I don't plan on posting it. Do I look like a music blogger to you? This blog is me, me, me with a dash of my interactions with other people and things delighting/pissing me off. (Notice the theme?) How the hell do they get my email address anyways? Gah.

We're working a big old post about our fun weekend. Go see Dave in the meantime with an amusing random post about having a penguin mini-me. Tick, tick, tick goes someone's clock. We'd be beginning to suspect that Farmer is secretly trafficking those wacky lollipops in the Prospect Heights area if only he wasn't in Chicago at the moment. Who knows what he could've gotten up to before going though.

The "I'm updating craaaaazy!" edition.

If I've neglected to do so on the blog already, a special congrats are going out to Japan to previous 14A occupants, Josh and Miyuki for their crazy adorable baby! Awww...pictures! I need to stop looking before I kickstart my clock by accident or something.

Bill thinks he's hot shit because he started a music blog. Whatever, man. But, it's a good one. Imagine: someone putting music up that everyone else hasn't yet! It's a crazy concept!

Some examples why I have the best neighborhood/nabe blog: we're having a weekly happy hour (I choose ignore the games component. I like to play the "how much drinks before I start weaving?" game. Fun for a whole group!) and getting hats, but most importantly, a bake sale to raise money for Hurricane Katrina victims and the Houston Food Bank. It's taking place this Sunday from noon until it's all scarfed at PS 9 (St. Marks between Vanderbilt and Underhill). I plan to stroll over -- cracked out/hungover or not -- and get a big old piece of cake or 4. Anyone in the area should drop by also.

Oh. I almost forgot to mention. I'm moving to Chicago to become a full-time stalker.

The "I really wasn't joking when I said I'd be cutting down on the blogging until my event was done. Go read them instead." edition.

Chicago declares August 10th "House Unity Day." [via David]

Abe, a rare Hunterite I wouldn't ignore if I saw in the street (unlike most), has reentered the blogging game with a vengenance. Go learn something about technology and like stuff. The linkflow is overstuffed with jewels.

Josh was the previous occupier of my apartment. He and his wife still get more mail than Ant and I. He's got a blog about ex-pat life in Japan and it looks like he's up to some wacky stuff.

There's a definite percentage of people I know with some curmugeonly ass blog personas (See also: McFizzie, Petur and hell, I guess me too) yet aren't mean ogres type in real life like you'd expect. Add to that Dave, former neighbor who bought me pints at the happy hour and was decidedly not as crazy and mumbling as I probably expected. (Awkwardly phrased compliment believe it or not!)

Keeping us laughing at work has been the Defamer reader-coined "Butterscotch Stallion" phrase taking over the news media. We actually hate Owen Wilson and his penis nose, so it makes it even more amusing for us. Vince Vaughn on the other hand...we like the tall, smart-ass, a little sleazy with questionable morals type (since we are all of those things but tall), so we'd starfuck him in a hot second. He seems like he'd [insert something rather inappropriate for a family site. Take a wild guess or IM me for it] which would be awesome.