22 May 2006


Changed the look a bit around here. Just the top and some colors. The same old boring place, just like to swap it up a bit.

21 May 2006


Was in and out of the apartment building most of this afternoon. Mostly doing laundry. On my final trip back into the building from getting my clothes out of the dryer, I notice the ground at the foot of the stairs inside the doors of our building (i had left the building no more than 20-30 minutes prior to coming back, and this was not there). Don't know what happened, but we're wondering if it has anything to do with the drunk guy who lives in our building who last night we watched fall down the exact flight of stairs you see in the pictures. (he didn't bleed. but it's funny to think about, since he fell in the same spot.) Who knows what happened, we don't. We can't figure out if someone fell, or what. As you can see, there's a smear on the wall which is at the top of the flight of stairs you see in the other pictures. (click on thumbnails for bigger images.)

Oh well, just another day.

15 May 2006


One thing I really miss about the South are the incredible thunderstorms. Something soothing about the rain, the thunder/lightning, and being indoors. Today we have a bit of "stormy" weather, but still nothing even close to comparison to a real thunderstorm.

It's funny to see how people react to thunder up here, I guess because it's not all that common. After living here for over a year now, I've probably only knowingly heard thunder about 5-10 times. Which is weird.

But, I guess since I have to walk to get places instead of driving in a car, I'd be regretting a torrential downpour like I am now yearning. And then there are the times I remember such hard Southern thunderstorms that sucked. Like the time Ben and I drove from Memphis to St. Louis after work one Friday to see the White Stripes. Was supposed to be about a 4 hour drive, but took 7 because of the rain. Going 15mph on the interstate and not seeing ANYTHING in front of you. That was the last time I've been in Arkansas, and I don't have any problems with that.

05 May 2006


19 March 2006


Had to create a little flash ad banner for my company's website, like i do every week. This one in particular somewhat haunted me. Before starting on the project, and while sort of thinking/brainstorming about it, I had this dream/nightmare one night, and decided to make the banner be an ode to it. Since finishing the banner, I've dreamed about this guy twice more.

(The banner is for an interview and album of a great jazz/piano musician from the 1930's, named Hoagy Carmichael.)

Click here to view the banner / glimpse of my dreams


18 March 2006


Went out today to get a haircut. Last few time I'd gotten it cut at a place close to hear, from a younger girl/woman who seems pretty cool. She was the cheapest I had found that wasn't a "Super Cuts" type place ($30 +tip), and really, that's a good price for around here for a men's cut. She did decent jobs usually. Last time I got it cut from here was about a month and a half ago? Well, it wasn't that great. And now that it had grown out, I looked like a fucking ass-clown. Worst hairstyle/grown-out haircut I'd ever had. So I declared out loud (since I was by myself) that I'd never get my hair cut from there again. And went down to the Astor Place Hair barber shop. That place is fun. Been there once before. Just a huge underground room filled with tons of barber chairs, with random guys just cutting away. Just walk in, tell the guy at the front you need a cut, and he points you to any open chair. Got it done by some guy named Josef who ate Cool Ranch Doritoes the entire time. In and out within 10 minutes, literally. $15. Fuck the nicer haircut places, it's all about the reject Super Cuts guys who have been in this place that's been around since the 1945. The barbers are fast. Try and get you in and out as fast as possible. So no stupid awkward small talk (which is one of the many things i love about New Yorkers. No one gives enough of a shit about you to have stupid meaningless chit-chat). Just sit there and let them go.

$30 for shitty haircut
$15 for good haircut

09 March 2006


I WILL BE SEEING THIS. This looks so much better than than that Neil Young snoozefest.
The Devil And Daniel Johnston (film trailer)

07 March 2006

punk rock / Puff Daddy / ANTICHRIST

March 6, 2006 - New York, NY, The Avalon


We're No Here
Hunted By a Freak
Friend of the Night
Take Me Somewhere Nice
Yes! I Am a Long Way From Home
Travel Is Dangerous
You Don't Know Jesus
Acid Food
Folk Death 95
Killing All The Flies
Stanley Kubrick
Xmas Steps
Glasgow Mega-Snake

Mogwai Fear Satan

Notes: Incredible show. First time seeing Mogwai. I missed the on-sale date a couple of months ago, and my friend (thanks TylerDurden) came through with an extra ticket, as the person who was supposed to go with him dislocated her shoulder (reminder: send get well / thank you card). The band opened with "We're No Here", and it was quiet possibly the loudest thing I have ever heard. Literally, no exaggeration. Could feel every beat of the dream pulsing through my body. My ears were being raped with sound. And it ruled. Why didn't I take Tyler's advice and get some earplugs?
Got a good amount of Mr. Beast material. Would have liked to here "Auto Rock", but oh well. Every song killed. After a few songs, my ears adapted to the sound. I knew it would be a long night of post-concert ear ringing, but nothing would prepare me for what was to come: "Mogwai Fear Satan". The song hits a quiet point, just two guitars very gently strumming, very quietly. Then, suddenly, every instruments hits hard, with all its force, with the amps turned all the way up, all in one tremendous burst. And there goes my left ear. I knew it right when it happened. Today, it's still ringing, and sounds muffled. I'm sure it will be better within a day or two, at least I hope.

Fuck Satan, I fear Mogwai.


Saturday afternoon, Kristie and I are sitting at our computers in the kitchen. The way our apartment building is built in a square shape. More like a hollow square. In the middle of the building is an open air concrete "courtyard" (only used by maintenance) that is surrounded by all four walls of the apartment building. So, when maintenance guys, or whoever, is down on the ground in the "courtyard", you can hear their voices echoing pretty well around the walls. Think of it as a giant chimney.

At our computers, we hear a man and woman arguing like mad. It's echoing fairly well, so we just assume they are on the ground in the concrete courtyard area. We don't think much of it, because you can hear arguing every so often from people's apartments. Just a nuisance of living compacted with people. We ignore it, plus the words were pretty inaudible, so we couldn't even tell what they were saying. About 10 minutes passes, and we notice they are still going at it, even louder. Out of curiosity, I walk over to the den to open the window really slightly so I can put my ear down to maybe make out a word or two (still thinking that the people are down on the ground level. We live on the 4th floor.) Suddenly, just after I open the shades and am opening the window, I hear something above me sliding/grinding -- like someone is shoving a heavy cardboard box through the window frame that is a little too small -- and instantly I see something fall right in front of me passed the window, in front of my face. It hit the ground, and it sounded like a shotgun going off. I kept telling myself it was a bag of garbage, or a box, or anything. I went back to the kitchen and I knew -- it was a person. The 5th floor above us is vacant, and this one one the 6th floor.

From the sound of the noise, Kristie thought there had been a gunshot, until I told her something fell in front of me, and I thought it was a body. I went and put my ear to the window to listen, and heard the man on the phone. Heard him say the word "suicide."

The cops were there within 10 minutes. I kept my ear to the window. The first guy there yelled up to the guy, who was apparently still in his window (he never even went down and checked on the person), "Who are you??! Who the fuck are you, and who is this??!" The guy, completely unemotional, responds, "She's my wife. I live in 6E. Is she alive or is she gone." Completely deadpanned. Completely cold. And completely fucked up sounding. Drunk or drugs, who knows, but definitely one of the two. Cops came very fast, swarmed the whole building. Eventually took the guy away. Heard one cop in the hallway say, "That guy was really fucked up."

Within 2 hours, the NY Post called, asking if we knew anything about a woman who "fell out or was pushed out of a window in your apartment building." We said no, and hung up.

After a while, with all the cops all over, we eventually got freaked and left the apartment to go get some food. Let the whole thing settle for a while. So we went to a mexican restaurant down the street, drank lots of tequila, and went to the strip club. The strip club was highly disappointing, and Kristie and I spent most of the time making fun of the strippers. With Kristie even giving them advice on how to make more money.

We still don't know if it was a suicide or homocide. Haven't heard anything, or seen anyone up and down the stairs. But then again, we had no idea who lived up there in the first place. Maybe have seen them before unknowingly, but who knows. We also made a conscious effort to not be seen in the windows (and I'm glad I didn't stick my head out of the window after the fall to see what happened) so that the neighbor did not see us and have a face of who lived under him.

So, that's my definitive New York story.... for now. For my first year of residence. Watching someone fall in front of my face. If I top that within my next year, I will be quite impressed.

At least the tequila and strippers were good.

21 February 2006


Taken from TheNewGamer.com
Legos + Video Games - Sanity

14 February 2006


Bang Bang, Dick shot me down.
Bang Bang, I hit the ground.
Bang Bang, that awful sound.
Bang Bang, Dick Cheney shot me down.

12 February 2006


Went and saw a movie last night (The Matador). Was pretty good, but the main point of this entry is this:
One of the previews they showed beforehand was for Mission Impossible 3. The previews opened with a couple of quiet scenes, showing scenery, etc etc. Then it moves to Philip Seymore Hoffman talking, with a zoomed in angle in his face. He's talking about killing families, lovers, etc. At this point, we are about 15 seconds into the preview, and no one in the theater realized it was for Mission Impossible, as Hoffman usually tends to be in decent films as a decent character. As he talked, the intensity of his voice rose, and music to the preview rose. You could tell some climax for the preview was about to hit. The crowd was on the edge of their seats. Then, it showed a close up of Tom Cruises face. All intense. And at that very moment, the crowd of about 100 people let out this collective moan. "UUUgggggggggghhhhhhhhh (Ohhhhhhhhh), guuuhhhhhh...."

That reaction alone was worth the price of admission to the movie.

10 February 2006


February 9, 2006 - New York, NY, Madison Square Garden Theater

Ny batteri
Med blodnasir
Se lest
Olsen Olsen
Svo Hljott

Encore 1:

Encore 2:

notes: Incredible show. Second time seeing them within the past 4 months. Completely different set and show than the first, so it was good to see a whole new batch of songs. Only one song from ( ). "Staralfur" makes a very rare setlist appearance, making the show more special. Unlike the first time I saw them, they had a brass section of about 10 people in the background that appeared on several songs, namely bringing "Olsen Olsen" to its signature ending crescendo. Sigur Ros is one of those bands that makes you believe in something. Whether it's the hope of music still living, or a higher being. But experiencing them live will make you realize there's more to it than "just music."

09 February 2006


I stomached as much as I could. To the point where the acids of my digestive tract started coming up into my throat, and I was getting that burning sensation near where my tonsils used to be. And that taste. Where you can still somewhat, somehow taste what you've eaten earlier that day, but you can taste the bile mixed in. So, I swallow it down with another swig of beer. Close my eyes tightly to try and ignore the taste of the acids going back down my throat. Clinch my fist against my head as it pounds with another headache. In the darkness I see behind my shut eyelids, I question my motivations — my values — my ideals — my existence. OUR existence. I wonder what has brought us to this lowly state. This act of celebration — celebrating the raping of people's individuality — celebrating successful marketing campaigns — celebrating the self-masturbating egos. For tonight is the night of all nights. The night we celebrate low-level mediocrity. Tonight is Grammy night.

Last night had to be the best argument I've seen in a while that explains the imploding condition of all major music markets. Which, to say the least, has been going on since the beginning of mass-marketed albums and record labels. It's just that right when you think it can't get any worse, it does. Actually, it's quite impressive, and very fun to witness.

I could not stomach more than 10 minutes at a time. With at least corresponding 10 minute breaks in between to offset the onslaught of brutal abuse towards my ears and eyes. U2, Kanye West, Mariah Carey, Keith Urban, Madonna, Green Day (how can you win two years in a row with the same album??). The one thing they all have in common? They're all shephards.

Kanye West has quite possibly got to be the single most overrated "artist" in the last 20 years. What is it that people see in this guy? "OHHHH he's SOOOOO controversial!!!!" Give me a fuckin' break. "OHHHH he does such different things than anyone else!" Give me a fuckin' break. OVERRATED. BORING. BLAND. Almost as much as Jay-Z. But, right when I thought Kanye West could not be any more annoying, he brings along Jamie Foxx onto his scene. Jesus Christ. Are people this fucking stupid??? I think I hate Jamie Foxx almost as much as Kanye West. I've never seen someone mooch off the success of a single movie ("Ray"), which sucked by the way, any more than this one guy has.

Even Paul McCartney entered into Rolling Stones Land and started killing his legacy. Somehow. I'm sure Lennon and Harrison are rolling in their graves - probably happy to not be around to witness it. I'm sorry Paul. Let it go. Sure, you're a Beatle. Sure sure, I understand. I love the Beatles too. But now, it's just getting sad to watch. It's ok. Really. The fact that you performed two Beatles' songs alone last night proves you are still holding onto what you once had, and that you're just not what you used to be without your supporting cast.

Tonight I'll be able to wash my soul clean from last night, as I will be entrenched in the sounds of Sigur Ros in concert.

With that said, I can't wait for the Oscars!

06 February 2006


I don't care who he is. But Stevie Wonder's facial hair looks like he's been drinking someone's dirty butt butter, and forgot to wipe off the chocolate milk moustache. Can i just shave this guy's mouth? Just for one day? I can't look at it anymore.

And the Stones are dead. I don't know what would hold my interest more: Keith Richards lickin' out "Start Me Up", or Steven Hawking playing a rousing game of ping pong. And, how the hell did Aaron Neville get famous?

Synopsis of the Super Bowl:
Game: D+
Halftime: D-
Commercials: B-
Food: C (A for ours, F for guest's)
Company: F

Overall: D+

04 February 2006


Says the Red Rider as he steps off his High Horse, "John doesn't know what to say or offer for his first BLOGGER entry, so he asked me to speak on his behalf. Right now, he's away unclogging a shower drain that was puking brown water and particles of shit out into the basin of the bathtub. His sister's 16th birthday is this week, and he wants to get her a present but is clueless on what to get a 16 year old girl ---- much less dumbfounded by the fact that she is turning sixteen. He hasn't bathed today, and his dirty laundry is reaching the point of no return. Still, he's going out to eat with his lady tonight at a new organic restaurant that sounds delicious. The city outside has been drenched in rain all day, and it's unusually dark for this hour. Soon he'll be leaving to drudge through the rain to catch the train - he doesn't mind not having a car, and wearing his shoe soles thin. For now, there's heat coming from the furnace underneath the window in the bedroom, and he still misses Kurt Cobain."