Thursday, December 29, 2005

Best On-Stage Quote EVER

"It's all a matter of technique. We have it, and you don't, so if you shut the fuck up, we'll play some songs and everyone'll be happy."

- Andrew Eldritch, The Sisters of Mercy

(Rumor has it TSOM are playing Vegas in February. If true, I will sell a fucking kidney to be there.)


Wednesday, December 28, 2005

Even The Best Laid Plans...

So I've been excited since Thanksgiving that The Old Lady and I were going back to Fort Bragg, the place we got married, for New Years with her parents (whom I adore cos they party as hard as I do). Get out of town, stay in the same place we did when we got hitched, go to breweries and wineries, have good meals, walk the beach, drive back celebrating my birthday on the 2nd...brilliant. And better than going out to some expensive whatever with a bunch of fucking amateurs making asses of themselves.

But LO! Here comes Ye Olde Weather God, who proceeds to piss on our parade (read: there's gonna be a SHITLOAD of rain up there this weekend). Storms and 6 hours on windy roads do NOT a pleasant vacation make, so instead of being holed up in our rooms with wet dogs, playing Monopoly, we cancelled our plans. New Years and my birthday will have to be spent here in the Bay Area.

SO CHUCKLES, YOU SHIT-TALKING BIATCH: THE SHIT YOU TALKED IS NOW COMING BACK TO HAUNT YOU. I WILL be around when you are here; I WILL be able to meet up with you; and, oh fucking PLEASE rest assured, I WILL MOST CERTAINLY drink yer ass under whatever table you are unfortunate enough to drink with me at. I hereby even invite you to my humble abode beforehand for a large homecooked meal, cos I don't want you to have any crybaby excuses like "But I had an empty stomach!" when you wake up in the gutter somewhere with nothing but bar receipts and Polaroids of us standing around your passed-out ass in yer pocket.

The ball is in yer corner. Whatcha gonna do?

New Republican Talking Point Alert

I wonder how long it will take until this story ends up in a Bush speech or vomited up by O'Malkin as the obvious reason why we need to invade, invade, invade.

(I was going to put an ugly pic of Malkin here, with an appropriately witty caption, but realised I do NOT want that ugly bitch's face on my blog.)

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

I Wish I Was At Home...

It is a very grey day here in the Bay Area. The Old Lady is at home ill, which doesn't help, cos days like this make me want to be at home anyway. Days like this make me want to play guitar and be poetic and shit. Anything, really, but working.

Plus, I have no Bailey's Irish Cream at my desk to doctor the office coffee.

If I got to go home today, I would...

Take care of the important things first. Then...

...grab me a rocks glass and pour a whiskey (3 ice cubes).

Heat up some of the Mexican food I made before going to band practise yesterday.

Make Matchstick DJ for me. I would make him play songs by...

...Lego Morrissey. Cos everyone knows Moz is perfect for grey days.

Then I would curl up with my poor, sick wife like the kitties here and watch old movies, flu or no flu. I hope my baby gets well soon, and this day is over even sooner.

Friday, December 23, 2005

Gone X-Mas-ing...

Fuzzy holiday love to all of you.

Thursday, December 22, 2005

One Of Those Strange Moments

So, it's a Sunday a few weeks back. I am doing my usual Sunday ritual: fending off sobriety with incredible panache and effectiveness. Sitting on the futon in the front room, I am drinking vodka & coke and watching a football game (GO COWBOYS!!) and enjoying some ganja when I get that feeling...

You know that feeling.

That feeling that either someone is watching you, or when you get that weird compulsion to look in a certain direction. Sometimes a combo of both.

This was both.

I turn and see my kitten Hazy Monday sitting at the other end of the futon. Not laying down or propped up on his front paws, like cats do - I mean REALLY FUCKING SITTING THERE. Chilling with me. Watching the game. He turned his head and we sat there staring at each other.

So, naturally, I did what anyone else would have done in the situation: I asked him in a confused tone, "Ummmm....Hazy? What are you doing?"

He merely put his paws in his lap and LOOKED at me. Looked at me like I was fucking stupid for even asking. The look that said "What the fuck do you THINK I'm doing? The same goddamn thing as you, watching yer fucking Cowboys have to come back in the 4th Quarter AGAIN."

I turned back to the game and packed another bowl.

October (It Still Comes Once a Year)

If I liked things as they were,
I’d be blind
And so unbelievably sore
In a very short period of time
Hitched my lead to a star
…Could be fine,
If only it promised I’d find
Some semblance of peace of mind
And I know that you’ll understand
(Cos you’re clever, we know)
When I say I don’t shake
With that hand
I’m nostalgic, not narrow

Yes, I’ve still got the pillow
And the single we got him to sign
I’ve forgotten the year, though…
But I never forgot the time.
No, I don’t have the photos
But if you ever feel so inclined
To dig them out of your wardrobe
Then give me a ring on the line
…Any time…
On my dime.


Monday, December 19, 2005


If I were a swan, I'd be gone.
If I were a train, I'd be late.
And if I were a good man, I'd talk with you more often than I do.
If I were to sleep, I could dream.
If I were afraid, I could hide.
If I go insane, please don't put your wires in my brain.
If I were the moon, I'd be cool.
If I were a book, I would bend.
If I were a good man, I'd understand the spaces between friends.
If I were alone, I would cry.
And if I were with you, I'd be home and dry.
And if I go insane, will you still let me join in with the game?
If I were a swan, I'd be gone.
If I were a train, I'd be late again.
If I were a good man, I'd talk to you more often than I do.

Just In Case There Were Any Doubts...

This stuck out like a sore thumb at me and I'm surprised no one has mentioned it yet.

From the Pretzeldent's speech today:

"Where it is going to be most difficult to make the case is in the public arena," Bush said. "People will say, if we're trying to make the case on Iran, `Well, if the intelligence failed in Iraq, therefore, how can we trust the intelligence on Iran?'"


Holy SHIT.

This fucker is NOW using Iran as a future example.

Never mind Osama Been Laughin'. Never mind the endless fuckup that has become Iraq. We are now using Iran as our analogy to "get it right".


Monday Morning Music

A crapload of Belle & Sebastian. They just get better and better...

Friday, December 16, 2005

Gone Partyin'...

Have a great weekend, everyone!


Holy CRAP. Ladies and gentlemen, we have a challenger.

This, my friends, is Hurricane High Gravity. I had never seen this til recently, when one of our locals started carrying it. For $1.25 and 8.1% alcohol, I figured I should see how it stacked up to 211, the mighty Steel Reserve.

The first thing is that you can actually drink the stuff - it doesn't taste bad, really, at all. Not great, but I've had FAR worse. Like 211. There is something about Steel Reserve (I think it's the crack they put in it) that takes a good 4-5 sips before you acclamate to the turpentine-y-ness of it.

But the real payoff is the drunk - one of those bottle-of-Thunderbird, dear-god-what-the-FUCK-did-I-DO-last-night kinda drunks. Thankfully I'm a particularly happy drunk who only gets told stories of how I did something like start talking like a pirate (which is odd, cos I couldn't talk like a pirate if my life depended on it while I'm sober).


Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Party People In The House

This weekend is the annual weekend in San Francisco with The Old Lady's parents. A very good lot, they party harder than I do and it's always a fantastic time. So if any of you can make it out to The City this weekend, DO IT.

First round and joint, and probably second, is on me.

Homo On The Range

"“Brokeback [Mountain] is the ‘Perfect Storm’ of Hollywood’s war on morality,” said Robert Knight, director of Concerned Women for America’s (CWA’s) Culture & Family Institute (CFI). “It combines high production values with a lowdown attack on morality. It’s a mockery of the Western genre embodied by every movie cowboy from John Wayne to Gene Autry to Kevin Costner."

You know, to be really, truly, 100% honest here, Kevin Costner was more of a mockery of cowboy movies than a couple of kissin' cowboys.

Come to think about it, Kevin Costner movies overall could realistically be described as "cruel and unusual punishment" (see: "female; Sandra Bullock" or "illiterate twat; Keanu Reeves").

Cherry People

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

So my good friend Sandy told me about this site some time ago, and we were looking at our mutual friends' song statistics. I found it to be interesting, but a bit too Big Brother for me. Then the Bulls posted about and its wonderful radio function. You put in a favorite band and it plays what it thinks you like and want to hear - pretty simple and pretty smart. It sounded like a no-brainer, a win-win situation.

If the fucking thing worked it would be genius.

Being the Morrissey lover that I am, I put The Smiths as my band. What do they play? Fucking Rolling Stones "Dead Flowers". Crappy country rock with worse singing (I truly hate Mick's vox on this one). So I ban that track and continue on...and it just gets fucking worse. Neil Young, Led Zeppelin, SOUNDGARDEN?!?! Seriously, for every one song I could stand listening to there were at least 12 songs that make me want to scream (in anger and frustration, not the "hoo yes, motherfuckers, shout at the devil!" party scream). Who the FUCK thinks of The Smiths as a classic rock band?

It is also a bone of contention that they never even play the god damn band you list as your favorite. Why the fuck else would I list them?

So it's not perfect. I DID get to hear a couple of great songs I hadn't heard in donkeys, but it just wasn't enough. The band that returned the best results was the Cocteau Twins. Subsequent attempts have been better, but still seriously lacking. I think I could only use this sparingly, like when my Duran Duran mp3 cd goes missing, or I would be at my wit's end.

Ultimate Spinach

Thursday, December 08, 2005

It Was 25 Years Ago Today...

John Lennon. 10.9.40 - 12.8.80.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

January 15th, 2006 - Kimo's, San Francisco

My band, the almighty Hope Chest, will be playing our first gig in almost a year next month, now that our guitarist isn't travelling the country. We'll be debuting a new song or two and will play a few songs that we've played maybe once in the past 5 years.

January 15th, 2006
Kimo's, San Francisco
21 + Up - $5

Y'all bitches BETTA be there.

Monday, December 05, 2005

Monday Morning Music

The "Fading Yellow" Comps - Sunshine Pop Brilliance.

Friday, December 02, 2005

Huh, No Shit (indygirl) Tribute

Today is Friday
Tonight I have band practise
We'll play Monkees songs

Song Of The Day Tribute

Rowetta - Starting With Myself (Hope Chest in the Boutique Mix)

Blogger has eaten this post 4 times - no joke. Blogger sucks, but you get what you pay for.

This is a track I did with Rowetta from Happy Mondays, more a reconstruction than a mix. We were all really happy with it and it sounds great in clubs. Download and enjoy!

Rowetta - Starting With Myself (Hope Chest in the Boutique Mix)

Poorman Tribute


Ummmm...okay, maybe not.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

3Bulls! Tribute

COBAGS ALERT!!!!!!!!!!!1! has come to my attention that a VERY unsavory group has been running amok, completely unchecked, whilst spreading lies that pork is savory and the ultimate candy bar is Take 5...

And We Continue...
(This would be one of those cool links that takes you to the hidden part of the post...if I knew how to do it. Fucking nerds.)

Parents, concerned citizens - you MUST not sit idle and let these false prophets warp impressionable minds. Sure, sure...they PRETEND to be stupid, but consider this the "want some candy, little girl?" that mother taught you to avoid.

Yes, it's true they have been known to stand up for what is right. But this does not mean that they are above methods of cobaggery that would stagger the average punter (and for the record, that cat is STILL in A.A.). Their attempts at humor, designed to distract, have now been exposed for what they truly are - sedition of the highest order.

Run for your lives, MILFS - it ain't safe any more.

But in all honesty, you couldn't commandeer an oil barge with a better bunch of hooligans and ninja kitties. So, as the man said to the children as he handed out Take 5s:

EAT IT COBAGS!!!!!!!!!1!