(F)UTILE

Eric Clapton and I have a conversation. He seems distraught. I am there to comfort him. It is Wednesday.

Q: Do you want to see me crawl across the floor to you?

A: Yes, but only if you feel like it.

Q: Do you want to hear me beg you to take me back?

A: Ugh, in writing.

Statement and plead: I don't want to fade away. Give me one more day please.

A: (Silence because I am dumbfounded because I feel so many emotions and I need to think.)

It is interesting how humans can be so tormented by something as stupid as falling in love. Do you know what I would compare it to? Being possessed. Like scary, like in horror movies. Essentially romances are horrific.

Bell Bottom Blues

Yesterday my dog was stuck under the deck for 7 hours. She was lured out by the undying power of roast beef. That is called an anecdote.

Second note: Johnny Guitar Watson has been turning my world upside down. Listen to the lyrics I mean oh my gosh.

things i dont understand, but still appreciate: vol. 1

this week is the festival of la merce in barcelona. loosely translates as the patron saint of barcelona, who apparently had an affinity for estrella damm beer and dubstep. instant winner with event names like "jazz, dragons and sustainability."

custom of choice: CORREFOCS. think fire breathing pigeon parades, fire crackers, children dressed in hamas scarves and safety goggles. CORREFOCS. invented in the past 30 years during the post-Franco period, set up officially in 1977 after a commission's investigation of remaining cultural traditions not wiped out by Franco.

more from the old country, poco a poco!

I like that way by the way

I saw Fiasco play a few days ago. I have a crush on the drummer. His name is Julian. I think he's 12 but what a cutie. Anyways, they have a lot of catchy songs and are very nice live. Very charismatic and other complementary things. I interviewed them too but I haven't gotten around to transcribing it so I can't post it, get off my back.

Here is a new song from Miles Benjamin Anthony Robinson. What a stupid name for a band. What a great song. Here is how I would describe it: winning $4 off of a scratch card. It's good. Not that good, but pretty fucking good.

Neil Diamond Was Raped In My Brain.

Growing up I thought Neil Diamond to be such an innocuous fellow. My family drove through thirty-eight states in a 1978 Vogue listening to nothing but Simon and Garfunkel, Matthew Wilder and Neil Diamond. I know all of the songs to all of those artist's albums. But Neil... well... he received special attention.

Which is why I am surprised that I had never heard of this song -

The Pot Smoker's Song

I would never have guessed that Neil had ever "bogarted a joint" or "sparked a spliff" or "got-dizzee on whirly gigz". I am fine with our prez puffin and passin but not... Neil.

The fucked up part is that now that my mental image of him is besmirched, all of his lyrics now seem like innuendo for sex, drugs and coco pebbles.

And when people at highly populated sports arenas yell "SO GOOD, SO GOOD, SO GOOD!!" Just pour a gob of goddamn lemon puree on my migraine.

How to throw the best tea party you can

Rawwwwr I live in America and I think I can do whatever the hell I want because the dinosaurs are friggin extinct so I'm going to start a band and then rename it A-Frames.

That's what they said when they made the band.

A-Frames - Search and Rescue

via.

how is the air up there?

fine, thanks.

It can't get old until I hate it.

Also, everyone is wetting themselves because the fellow from Grizzly Bear [ed drone] did a mix for a designer's [jeremy laing] fashion week runway show. Well good. They should be.

Pimple bitch.

Rhyme wave incoming. Wimple Winch is just four guys [men] from Liverpool that made music in the 1960s. They are pretty good and sometimes I make dandelion crowns when I listen to them. I dream in tie-dye now but all I can see are red foxes. 

"Save My Soul"

Download something.

Like...What?

DISCREPANCY OHHHHH NOOOOOOOOO! I smell girl fight. GIRL FIGHT!

Like, no. 

Conked in the dome.

Fucking Robert Plant playing soccer in his underwear or something. 

Friday I went to an alpaca farm. It was okay, I guess. I wish there were kitten farms and the kittens slept in tiny red barns at night so the wolves wouldn't eat them. Or Northern Saw-Whet owl farms (you know, the tiny owls you can pluck out of trees). Also it would be cool if delicious cheeseburgers grew on trees. I love everybody! 

Sly & The Family Stone - Everybody Is a Star

the french

i've recently become enamored with la blogotheque's "concerts a emporter" series. i wouldn't mind stumbling upon a gypsy beirut xxxxplosion. feast your pretty eyes on the tallest man on earth's set shot in new york:

Tallest Man on Earth - The Gardener - A Take Away Show from La Blogotheque on Vimeo.

get the hell out of your way

Seriously. I was walking down the hall of this building, back towards the table where my stuff was lying waiting for me to waste my time perusing my sticker collection or inventing obligations to bolster my schedule when this little dude pops out of nowhere asking if I was lost. "No," I said. "You aren't?" "No. My stuff is right over there." "Well, you certainly look lost." What the fuck. Unfortunately that was not the end of our encounter because my middle finger had just been sliced open. I was playing with a piece of very sharp grass and I needed a bandage. I saw someone less irritating out of the corner of my eye. "Excuse me, may I please have a band-aid?" "It won't stick," the fucking elf interjects. "Why not?" I ask. "They are the generic brand." Jesus Christ. The worst part was when I got the band-aids from the lady in the white coat and went to the bathroom to cleanse the wound and affix the bandage. It didn't stick. It's kind of coming off right now. Could anything be worse than being proven wrong by someone who in movements immediately previous just irked you? Possibly this is the time to put things in perspective.

Jaylib is really divine and takes my mind off of every other person who sits around pretending to read the New Yorker. I pretend to pretend to read the New Yorker. Twice removal cancels it out. I closely examine the cartoons and slap down the magazine after 30 seconds exasperatedly and make some kind of ignoramus claim. 

Jaylib - Pillz

Jaylib - Champion Sound


If the grass is still greener: