Protected: Alexis is driving me fucking nuts

18 12 2005

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Schedule this week:

17 12 2005

Sat – Study AMAP – Soiree at Wes’s for an hour or so – walk back
Sun – Study more biochem – Study break with Alexis at a GREAT restaurant 😉
Mon – More biochem/psych/some physics
Tue – MORE biochem… I hate biochem – Some physics and psych
Wed – Biochem test @ 10:05 – Physics test @ 5:05 – Study for Psych
Thu – Psych test @ 12:25 – Sweet freedom, shopping, bike tune-up – Get together ala mia casa per le birre, il cibo ed una festa.
Fri – Ride home with the one, the only, Max Hooker… and my sis – Sit by the fire and wallow in laziness…

Some funny, funny stuff…

16 12 2005

This can be found at my new favorite music site, Pitchfork Media:

Thu: 12-15-05
The 15 Worst Releases of 2005
Story by Ryan Schreiber

When I look back at all the absolute garbage released this year, it makes me wonder how we can remain so consistently optimistic about the state of music. But I realize I’m only saying that because I’ve just spent two days scraping out my brain’s peripheral sludgebanks to pull 2005’s worst releases and one-offs back from the brink of repression. Naturally, it gets bad every year, but was there something special about this one? To choose only 15 was an overwhelming task. Just consider what didn’t make the cut: Goldie Lookin’ Chain, the Bloodhound Gang, 50 Cent’s “Candy Shop”, Bo Bice, Louis XIV, Bowling for Soup, Juelz Santana’s “There It Go (The Whistle Song)”, Kelly Osbourne, CocoRosie, Panic! At the Disco, Ninja High School, Moby’s Hotel, “Honky Tonk Badonkadonk”, Audioslave, the Darkness, the Bravery, Liz Phair, the Mars Volta, and Neil Diamond’s hysterically absurd “Hell Yeah”. That’s not even everything. That’s not even close. But while some will take issue with the 15 selections ultimately chosen, I have no doubt that the shit’s abominable.

Akon: “Lonely”
Poorly interpreting Rule #1 from the Kanye West Production Manual, Akon mistook Bobby Vinton’s simpering 1964 hit “Mr. Lonely” for an old soul track. The result is a failure astonishing enough to actually deserve classification as “crack music.” What’s worse? How dipshits all over the world absolutely reveled in its wretched, gauzy hook, making it a certified international supersmash. I’ll give that it pretty much invents children’s hip-hop (Fred Penner, are you on this shit??), but only at the expense of all human dignity. Congrats, dude, you scored the most played-to-death song in Claire’s Boutiques since “How Bizarre”. See if you can lock that shit down with a Scunci tie-in.

Applied Communications: Uhhh Sort Of
Hey, what a talented kid Max Wood must be, or rich. Through the power of a widespread and aggressively hateable advertising campaign alone, he gained recognition and notoriety for his shamelessly inept second album, Uhhh Sort Of. Embodying every cliché of empty late-teen suburban self-loathing trust-fund hipster whining, he’s not four minutes into the first track before he’s already shit on pretty much everything in existence (including the sun!) like a fit-throwing 10 year-old whose mom just grounded him from Xbox. High school was bad enough. This is some Dante shit.

Black Eyed Peas: “My Humps”
The verdict is in, and the human race approves: “My Humps” is a worldwide hit! And it’s all due to the power of democracy: It wasn’t even planned as a single, but thanks to word-of-mouth, iTunes downloads, and inundations with requests at radio and MTV, the label finally caved and made it one. So, for the infinitesimal subfraction of you that have somehow managed to evade this omnipresent cultural crapsack, let me spoil the hook for you: “My hump! My hump! My hump!/ My hump! My hump! My hump!/ My hump! My hump! My hump!/ MY LOVELY LADY LUMPS!” For the rest of us, hearing this song for the first time was 2005’s most sobering musical experience. Like “Who Let the Dogs Out” before it, “My Humps” is so monumentally vacuous, slapped together and tossed-off that it truly tests the definition of “song.” It’s actually more like listening to a five-minute commercial jingle– a point driven home by the miles upon miles of product placement that attempt to pass for its verses. The good news, of course, is that something responsible for this much misery could never go unpunished, and at the last minute, God got his revenge: What other pop singer in music history has ever unwittingly pissed her pants onstage?

Clap Your Hands Say Yeah: “Clap Your Hands!”
Some bands choose their most extreme, difficult, and uncharacteristic track as their album opener as both a paean to anticommercialism and a barrier to keep out…who? The impatient? Old people? It’s a classic shitty underground rock pose, but not as shitty as bringing over Big Top Pee-Wee to shout down your listeners through a megaphone. If you never made it past this track, I can’t really blame you. By the time it came screaming out my speakers, it was much too late: the wintry dream-pop of free mp3 “In This Home on Ice” had already locked its in my head and refused to come out. As inspiring as the album’s actual songs were, this sucker still owes us an apology.

Cowboy Troy [ft. Big & Rich]: “I Play Chicken With the Train”
Following in the horseshit-encrusted bootsteps of last year’s greatest musical atrocity (and inexplicable critical smash), Big & Rich, Cowboy Troy’s “I Play Chicken With the Train” sucks the tongue out of C&W-style rap’n’roll’s beef-eatin’ cheeks to throw down like a homeboy for reals. Namedropping Tim McGraw, the CMAs, and yes, “skillz,” country music’s first black artist to crack the top 50 since possibly Charley Pride spits verse like a harried telemarketer, stumbling through the clunker triad: “All over the World Wide Web/ You’ll see that CBT on that mp3/ Speak clearly what I say so you comprehend/ In the name of hick-hop radio tuned in/ Roaming like thunder on the scene/ It’s kinda hard to describe if you know what I mean.” And just like Game and 50, the chorus features a guest spot from country’s #1 stuntaz: “I play chicken with the train/ Play chicken with the train train/ Uh huh huh uh huh huh.” God, critics, you fuckin’ assholes!

Daft Punk: “Technologic”
All heroes falter sooner or later, but most have the common sense not to send imitation Crazy Frogs to the mic to spout lists of 21st century home PC functions over production so phoned in it hangs up on you. With the glitter of their digi-disco masterstroke Discovery having finally settled, Daft Punk sounded their potential death knell with the brain-sucking inanity of a Hewlett Packard commercial singing the McDonald’s Big Mac theme song. Like watching an ambulance crash into a garbage truck.

Eminem: “FACK”
For those that think this list is pussing out by not assigning a specific rank to each track, I’ll give this the #1. Holy god. That there was a worse track than “My Humps” this year is the kind of thing that gets saved for history books. I actually had to pause it in the middle to get my bearings. Unfortunately, nothing I could possibly say about “FACK” would drive home my point like a lyric sample. Are you ready? Are you sure? Okay, careful now: “Ow I’m so fuckin’ hot/ And you’re so fuckin’ hot/ Oh my god/ I wanna fackin’ fack/ No, not fuck, I said fack/ F-a-c-k, f-a-c-k, fack, fack fack fackin’ freak me!/ Ohh yeah, girl, see baby, they call me Mr. Freaky/ Let’s call your sister, 3-way have some 3-some me so horny!/ And you’re such a fuckin’ babe I wanna go down on you, fuck, you shave!/ Ohh goddamn, here I go again!/ I’m gonna come, I am!” And finally, the chorus: “Owwww owwww owwwww (oh goddamn!)/ I’m gonna fuckin’ come! (Oh shit!)/ Fuuck fuck fuyyuccck (fuck, I am!)/ I am, I’m going to come (I’m coming!).” Soooo…yeah.

Fiery Furnaces: Rehearsing My Choir / “Norwegian Wood”
Riding high on the acclaim for last year’s Blueberry Boat and the poppier follow-up EP, the Fiery Furnaces lost themselves at the most crucial moment possible. Rather than solidifying their position as the kingpins of hyperprog, their prolificacy sent them careening, disastrously resulting in two duds so severe that even their most unswerving supporters couldn’t deny that they were hugely detrimental to the band’s momentum. The culprits: the gore-spattered abattoir that was their contribution to the Rubber Soul tribute album This Bird Has Flown, and the now-infamous Rehearsing My Choir, which faced every critic in its wake with the brutal proposition of having to lay the smackdown on the duo’s poor old grandmother. Man. Let’s just put this all behind us. 2006, guys, 2006.

M83: “Car Chase Terror!”
Why, near the end of M83’s car-crash-obsessed Before the Dawn Heals Us must there be a genuine car crash? While the album is admittedly a bit too ambitious at times, reaching almost Vangelis-like levels of bombast, it otherwise follows 2003’s Dead Cities, Red Seas & Lost Ghosts to its logical firework-spectacular conclusion. So this is doubly excruciating. Consisting mainly of dialogue between a mother and daughter, “Car Chase Terror!” relies almost exclusively on guest actress Kate Moran. Unfortunately, the only thing worse than the melodramatic scriptwriting is Moran’s excruciating overacting, which not only fails to sell the intended dramatic effect, but seriously disrupts the album’s flow– an integral element of a project this reliant on concept. The result is something like being punched in the face over and over again, the catastrophically unlistenable pretentious art-house equivalent of a sub-Wyclef hip-hop skit. Gut-wrenching!

“Just your average Hasidic reggae rapper. Yeah, you heard me. This guy is a straight-up Hasidic Jew from New York who busts mad flow over dancehall and reggae beats. This is the future of music.” –Sam Endicott, the Bravery in The Guardian

R. Kelly: “Sex Weed”
Some of your jaws are agape right now. An R. Kelly track on a worst-of-2005 list that’s not “Trapped in the Closet”? But “Trapped in the Closet” was so spectacularly weird, and such a bizarre cultural oddity that, even if only as a curiosity, it was completely fascinating and engrossing. “Sex Weed”? Not so much. Stretching the metaphor to its breaking point and beyond, Kells sings, “Girl, you got that sex weed/ I just want to hit it all the time.” Not only is this just dumb, but half of these supposed double-entendres are so desperately reaching, it frustrates to no end. “Just one look at you, I’ve got contact/ Can I get a pull of that/ Girl, your shit is the chronic/ ‘Cause I can tell by the way you roll it up/ Make a playa wanna smoke it up.” How is he gonna smoke it up? It doesn’t even make sense!

Robert Pollard: Relaxation of the Asshole
I like that this is sometimes referred to as Robert Pollard’s comedy album. I don’t know, something great about that. But it’s more funny peculiar: In releasing this beast of an LP, he proved with an almost vainglorious flourish that there is absolutely no scrap of recorded material capturing his essence that does not deserve to exist at least 500 times over in shops across the land. And as usual, his unflinchingly loyal fanbase proved that there’s no scrap of recorded material capturing his essence that does not deserve to be purchased for at least $15. Not that it’s the first release of its kind: The album, consisting entirely of onstage banter, is practically an homage to the late King’s own Having Fun With Elvis Onstage. The problem: Neither dude is too hilarious stumbling around your living space. RIYL: Sounds of the Homeless.

Sun Kil Moon: “Tiny Cities Made of Ashes”
As far as 2005 projects with potential were concerned, this was an enormous letdown. Ex-Red House Painters frontman Mark Kozelek has been doing justice to the worst bands for some moons, so for him to tackle one of my all-time favorites seemed a fairly promising prospect. Oh, what a fool I was. It made me wonder: If I was like a maniac Yes or AC/DC fan, would I just think he was a huge asshole? Either way, this track was a slaughterhouse and poor Isaac Brock just had to sit back and take it like a dude. It’s a long drive, indeed, and there’s lols for miles.

White Stripes: “Who’s a Big Baby?”
Second only to Load Records noise artist Prurient as the year’s most punishing sensory assault, this little-known UK B-side to the White Stripes’ “Blue Orchid” single unquestionably ranks as the greatest under-the-radar wtf moment of 2005. Likely recorded in the infantile throes of Hollywood-breakup agony, the song presumably finds Jack mocking former enchantress Renee Zellweger from beneath an impossibly wretched vocal filter, resulting in the kind of grotesque 80s horror creature taunt that’d send Sam Raimi into a jackyl-like gallop to the sound studio. As White lets out his most abominable, blood-curdling shriek of all– “LET’S GO SHOPPING!”– one can’t help but recall the immortal words: “I’ll swallow ya soul.”

Weezer: “We Are All on Drugs”

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Comments, pt. 1 | Comments, pt. 2 | Comments, pt. 3 | Comments, pt. 4 | Comments, pt. 5

More of nothing doing…

13 12 2005

Open iTunes/iPod or Windows Media Player to answer the following. Go to your library. Answer, no matter how embarrasing it is.

Number of songs: 2612
FIRST SONG: Echelon – 30 Seconds to Mars
LAST SONG: In the Waiting Line – Zero 7

Sort by TIME
SHORTEST SONG: sb-Stiny (a strongbad quote) – :01
LONGEST SONG: Motherfucker=Redeemer – Godspeed You Black Emperor – 31:25

Sort by ALBUM
FIRST SONG: Rocket 88 – James Cotton (from the album 100% Cotton)
LAST SONG: Ordinary Dream – Electric Light Orchestra (from the album Zoom)

(sadly… or maybe it’s better off, I just imported all my stuff to iTunes since I was only using it for podcasts before… so I’ll kind of make this up)
1. Darkness Between the Fireflies – Mason Jennings
2. Holes to Heaven – Jack Johnson
3. You to Thank – Ben Folds
4. Little Man – Atmosphere
5. Bloodmobile – They Might Be Giants

First song that comes up on Shuffle: Chop Suey! – Tenacious D

Search ….
“sex”, how many songs come up? 12
“death”, how many songs come up? 30
“love”, how many songs come up? 87
“you”, how many songs come up? 236

Only because this is a distraction…

13 12 2005

First school: Saint Mary’s of the Lake preschool

First concert: Elton John… two words: A MAZING

First screen name: arne007

First funeral: my great grandmother’s

First scar: Dude… I have so many damn scars, I couldn’t say. Earliest I can think of at the moment: cat going apeshit on my left hand… I have a cross scar there. I think I’m just prone to scarring.

First pet: Rin Tin Red III

First piercing/tattoo: cartilage

First big trip: Nassau, Bahamas – 3 years old

First flight: same

First time out of the country: That again

First job: Caddy at Wayzata Country Club by the bag – Byerly’s Bag Boy at hourly

First true love: Tami, my first girlfriend

First MySpace friend: myspace? what’s that?

Last person you hugged: Ceci

Last song you heard: Jack Johnson – Mudfootball

Last car ride: Car? I think it was driving to Ridgedale with the fam to get on the Better Bus

Last time you drank/got high/ or did domething illegal: well, since drinking ain’t illegal for me anymore, I’d say holding secret meetings in unscheduled classrooms

Last time you took a shower: This morning

Last time you cried: Mike’s funeral

Last movie you watched: Jarhead, I think

Last food you ate: coffee now; pita and hummus an hour ago

Last item bought: Coffee

Last shirt worn: Mr. Yuk tee with long-sleeve warm-up

Last phone call: My Mom

Last time at the mall: Thanksgiving at Ridgedale for as little time as possible

Last drink: Coffee or beer

Last text message in your inbox: Oh boy… “Awww such a cute couple, mostly due to her looks and your pretty sweater.”

Last text message in your outbox: “Good luck testing! I know you’ll do great!”

Last thing you typed: Physics Lab write-up

And a box of wart removal bandages…

11 12 2005
The Twelve Days of Christmas
for cleptoparasite:
Day # Who? What they got you
1st kitty_cal Wart removal bandages
2nd bluejess33 A menorah
3rd frenchdavidface Two Lumps of coal
4th leaping_spirits The deeds to Park Place and Boardwalk
5th kitty_cal A magical fairy that only you can see
6th melbystar A hobo stick
7th pintsize A bag stolen from a bag lady
8th bluejess33 The collected poems of M.C. Hammer
9th veritableverity A carefully choreographed dance sequence to Thriller
10th torpidtorpedo A bag stolen from a bag lady
11th gidgey1 Two pounds of candy apples
12th leaping_spirits A previously used hankie
Take this Quiz at
( or, take the ‘adult’ version at )

Head Over Heels

9 12 2005

I wanted to be with you alone
And talk about the weather
But traditions I can trace against the child in your face
Won’t escape my attention
You keep your distance with a system of touch
And gentle persuasion
I’m lost in admiration could I need you this much
Oh, you’re wasting my time
You’re just just just wasting time

Something happens and I’m head over heels
I never find out till I’m head over heels
Something happens and I’m head over heels
Ah don’t take my heart
Don’t break my heart
Don’t don’t don’t throw it away
throw it away
throw it away

I made a fire and watching burn
Thought of your future
With one foot in the past now just how long will it last
No no no have you no ambition
My mother and my brothers used to breathe in clean air
And dreaming I’m a doctor
It’s hard to be a man when there’s a gun in your hand
Oh I feel so…

Something happens and I’m head over heels
I never find out till I’m head over heels
Something happens and I’m head over heels
Ah don’t take my heart
Don’t break my heart
Don’t don’t don’t throw it away

And this my four leaf clover
I’m on the line, one open mind
This is my four leaf clover

Naaaaah nah nah naaah naaah
nah nah nah naaah naaah
naaaaah naaaaah naaaaah naaaaah, nah nah.

Funny how time flies.

-Tears for Fears