Wildly divergent plotlines

Friday, I missed work because I was too busy vomiting for several hours.
Today, I came into the office and found a can of "Positive Putty" on my desk.

I'm sure there's no connection.

Seems the only difference is there is no difference.

Of all words, I have the hardest time writing "different" It always comes out "differnt".

Saw the Sundance fave "Napolean Dynamite" last night. It was merely okay. There were some funny bits (most of which were in the trailer anyway), but the lack of a real plot and the unsympathetic bizzareness of the characters left me a little cold. "Freaks and Geeks" is by far the superior saga of high school outsider angst.

After the show, it was on to New City for a Pride Week show. the best bit (not to slag perennial favorites the Vertyical Struts) was "GK and the Press Play". GK is a big diesel dyke in Elvis wig and fake 'tasche who shouts random words to some electro bleeps. The Press Play are four leather daddy types who just stood there in all their buttless-leather chap'd glory. They did one song. Twice. It was so art-fag it was almost good.

Oh, and I briefly contemplated breaking up with my girlfriend over something I thought she said, but had, in fact, misheard because of the volume of the music and skull-dulling effects of too much Stella. *red face*

Eternal Sunshine

Nothing beats a good bask. The weather here's been so god-awfully shitty the past couple of months that basking opportunities have been few and far between. Last night, though, the June sun was beaming in through the open balcony doors and I sat on the couch, Heineken in hand, and just soaked it up. I felt like one of those weird undersea fish that spends its entire life in darkness only to suddenly be brought to the surface. To help you in your summer basking needs, here is EAM's definitive guide to summer basking.

Basking is a luxury in this town, and an underappreciated pleasure. Beyond the obvious requirement of sunlight, a good bask requires a comfortable place to park oneself (upright or prostrate: follow your heart), beer (I usually go with anything European that comes in a green bottle, though sometimes a nice light Mexican brew is the ticket. Domestics should be avoided at all costs.) and, if circumstances avail you of it, pot.

Location wise, it all depends: open grassy areas are good for solitary or intimate basks. For the more social bask, bar or cafe patios are good for people watching. Of course all locations depend on the time of day and amount of direct sunlight.

This brings me to a disclaimer: basking is decidedly not sun-bathing. Sun-bathing is for the beach and people who go to tanning salons in the dead of winter to maintain their medium-rare fleshtone. Basking is more multifaceted: yes, you can just lie in the sun if you want. But you can also read, socialize, eat, listen to music or even watch TV and while getting your bask on.

Of course, these are merely guidelines: there's no hard and fast rules or criteria for basking. The beauty of basking lies in the immortal connection between life on earth and the sun. Happy basking.

You spin me right 'round.

I DJ'd last night for entirely too long (no one else wanted to step up). It was probably our last night at Your Apartment, but we're trying to get a new night elsewhere. Stay tuned.

Oh and in case you're wondering, here's a partial list of stuff I played last night.

What'd I Say?-Ray Charles
Ain't No Fun To Me-Al Green
Your Love Lifted Me (Higher and Higher)-Jackie Wilson
Let's Spend the Night Together-The Roling Stonmes
Ask-The Smiths
Love Will Tear Us Apart-Joy Division
Say Hello to the Angels-Interpol
Nowhere Now-The Secret Machines
Darts of Pleasure-Franz Ferdinand
We Used To Be Friends-Dandy Warhols
Stop-Black Rebel Motorcycle Club
STAY-Sekiden
Mass Romantic-New Pornographers
Deceptacon-Le Tigre
Feel Good Hit of the Fall-!!!
Give It Up-LCD Soundsystem
and a bunch of other crap.

The candy of meats.

I went to the gym today and the whole place smelled like bacon. I couldn't figure it out.

I said it once before, but it bears repeating.

Remember this?

It's from this.

This business of little girls singing Ad-Com smooth jazz has got to stop. Right. Fucking. Now.

What'd I say?

Ray Charles, 1930-2004

The new one-two.

Vital daily ritual:
Starbucks dark roast and cheese bagel.

Yum.