tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35717806342418337152024-02-08T08:12:45.598-05:00Some DistanceBig words, little meaning.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-37431006853122910212008-11-17T00:05:00.001-05:002008-11-17T00:05:59.677-05:00#50<CENTER><img src="http://www.gfn.org/gfn/_files/Image/images/awards/msage_getting_award.jpg"></center>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-15002660041401416472008-11-17T00:03:00.001-05:002008-11-17T00:05:03.261-05:00So Today,Got robbed. Suxked.<br /><br />Can't complain though, i've met some nice people and this cute girl.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-84680463326830435072008-03-26T20:10:00.002-04:002008-03-26T20:18:23.191-04:00Dog & PearI'd say I've been busy, but then I'd be lying. I've more so been working myself in such a way that I never have a decent amount of time to convince myself I can crawl out of my cave and socialize with others. Instead, I gorge myself on back histories of made for T.V. movies and put together semi-adorable pop songs. This one's part of the latter.<br /><br />I present to you my new musical project, an underfed overloved little something.<br /><br /><center><a href="http://www.myspace.com/dogpear">Dog & Pear</a><br /><br /></center>It's called that due to the two little passions Nick and I have. I've got a ever blooming affection towards pups, Nick loves pears. Haven't seen his musical genius juice up, but I'm expecting it soon.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-28540652907334217492008-03-09T04:18:00.001-04:002008-03-09T04:20:33.962-04:00Southern Axe ScentIt's like biting your lip in a movie, it's like hugging your dad with your fly down, it's like pulling a cork apart.<br /><br />It's feeling warm because it's cold.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-55510235801817286472008-03-07T07:30:00.001-05:002008-03-07T07:32:15.863-05:00PlatonicI need my camera, I'm fighting these urges.<br /><br />It's raining it's morning and they're burning a forest outside my house.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-8328588356482730542008-02-18T12:08:00.003-05:002008-02-18T13:57:46.251-05:00フランスの家Haven't posted in a good while, but there's an inverse relationship between the amount I post and the amount of social interaction I have with the outside world. In essence, I've been having a really heavy loaded week, a very good week. First up, big fucking news is there's a new Bangalter track circling the net like a baguette-eating vulture eyeying the thoroughly fucked carcass of a bedazzler. It's simply titled "Love" and has all that creamy filter house goodness. <br /><a href="http://rapidshare.com/files/92930653/Love.mp3.html">Download Here</a><br />Many an interview has been had with DJ Falcon, a damn mysterious man, but nowhere near as Howard Hughesean as Bangalter, and Falcon has said that Roulé will in fact be coming back in 2008. Seems the whole crunchy French electro the Banger crew has been making has piched interest in a new house renaissance of sorts. <br /><br />Alright, happy reading all of that? Well here's the thing. That Love track was dug into, and the true source was uprooted. Seems it's some up and coming, though super unknown Brit by the name of <a href="http://www.myspace.com/louislaroche">Louis La Roche</a>, and he's getting all the flak for having his song distributed under the Bangalter pretense. I say that regardless of its origins, if there's new disco house being produced, it's awesome no matter its creator. So what if you've got to get it out by tacking on a big name to get some airplay.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-69640242799702009592008-02-09T18:00:00.000-05:002008-02-09T18:03:54.396-05:00IxnayAttention, please no more indie pianoy/acousticy artists with the forename Ben. <br /><br />Please.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-81198996677911183192008-02-09T17:25:00.000-05:002008-02-09T17:33:23.500-05:00The Sad Existence Of Joseph Toomey, IIIIf you listen to James Murphy & Pat Mahoney's Fabriclive 36, which you do, you'll notice a wonderfully antiquated but amazing song, "I Love Music." This song, was written by an artist named JT. His full name, is Joseph Toomey, III. He's never written another song. The irony of poor Joseph, is that in his great and only song "I Love Music" he discusses in his lyrics that when his mother asked what he'd do when he grew up, he responded that couldn't she see, he "loved music." The assumed logic here is that young aspiring Toomey went out and started a fruitful and bright music career. He didn't. He released one song. His entire life... is 6:36 long. He probably works as an accountant or a barber somewhere. Sorry JT.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-34059988678179251462008-02-03T20:00:00.000-05:002008-02-03T20:06:49.136-05:00ZipperheadHow do you cope with a reputation that's unbashedly untrue and at the same time so awfully weird it's too funny not to play up? <br /><br />This is what happens when you fall out of the loop for too long.<br /><br />I think I'm also addicted to the free listings on craigslist. A broken car jack? A twelve pack of pepsi? Don't mind if I do.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-90139550618934719852008-01-31T21:17:00.000-05:002008-02-01T11:47:14.858-05:00Radio Mix 1 - or- Audible CaramelFirst radio show mix is finally up! Expect much better, brighter, butter-drenched things from Nick & I in upcoming shows, as Nick wasn't such the optimist and didn't put together anything for our show yesterday. Due to Nick's incompetence, this is a less mind-blowing single hour of music.<br /><br />Starting now, every 3 to 5 P.M. on Wednesday, check out <a href="www.cofcradio.com">Cofc Radio</a> and listen to a live stream of our two hour set. Will you like it? To that I say, "If you like beer." (Out of context, as it is seen by most everyone save for five other people, that comment seems fucking stupid.)<br /><br />A better assessment of how much you will like it? It's better than crawling. <br /><br />If you have something better to do during that time, which most likely you do, you can come here and I'll post an mp3 of the set whenever I get around to it, with badass artwork included. <br /><center><br /><a href="http://i256.photobucket.com/albums/hh185/animauxx/Some%20Distance/Radio1Nurture.png"><img src="http://i256.photobucket.com/albums/hh185/animauxx/Some%20Distance/Radio1Nurture.png"width=380></a><br /><br />Click the image for a nice marine-mammal sized version.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.megaupload.com/?d=ESYEU13A">Download Here!</a></center><br /><br />Tracklist:<br /><br />01. Cut Copy - Bright Neon Payphone<br />02. SebastiAn - Walkman<br />03. Roger Troutman - So Ruff, So Tuff<br />04. Justice - Never Be Alone (DJ Hell's Bavarian Remix)<br />05. Lipps Inc. - All Night Dancing<br />06. Toronto - Electric Toothbrush<br />07. Twenny Nine With Lenny White - Citi Dancin'<br />08. Matthew Dear - Dog Days<br />09. Capsule - Feeling You<br />10. Casco - Cybernetic Love<br />11. Nicolas Vallée - New New York<br />12. Metro Area - Read My Mind<br />13. Victor - Go On Do It<br />14. DJ Pui Pui - Simple Life<br />15. The Immortals - The Ultimate Warlord<br />16. Château Flight - Baltringue<br />17. Dynasty - Strokin'<br />18. Data - 7 Months To ForgetUnknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-57991138347464719342008-01-30T00:27:00.000-05:002008-01-30T00:28:46.564-05:00Oriental Magpie RobinI need to stop falling for the same girl.<br /><br /><br /><br />But she's everywhere.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-9240112281228568562008-01-29T15:10:00.000-05:002008-01-29T15:20:53.951-05:00Irritant<center><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Klondike_bar"><img src="http://i256.photobucket.com/albums/hh185/animauxx/Some%20Distance/fridgelessklondike.jpg"width=380></a><br /></center><br /><br />In the usual fashion of public bathing, this morning's bathroom rituals blew ass. Of all the things I truly hate in this world, and the list is damn small, I just can't handle Dial soap. It's the fucking devil incarnate, and I'd rather bathe with rancid lobster bisque caked with mummified dog semen than touch that malicious yellow bar against my skin. But that's all I could find and I hadn't the patience to pull my pants back on and go buy a bar of something decent.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-83629942458682891012008-01-28T12:48:00.000-05:002008-01-28T12:53:36.985-05:00Window ShopperThis is in no way a cry for help.<br /><br />Ever feel as if one day you'll come back to your hometown and you'll be forgotten? A moment in the past of other's that is all too corroded, the green penny inside the air vent you can't reach. That's what the last two days have felt like. I've run into several people I used to know (and technically, y'know, still know) but no one seems to acknowledge each other's presence. In my account it was more of me giving a brief glance, or a smile, but they're never returned, always stuck in the peripheral vision. <br /><br />Maybe it's the loss of a distinguishing facial feature, or maybe I'm no good with acquaintances.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-29289840150411038702008-01-24T21:01:00.000-05:002008-01-25T09:39:14.285-05:00More On ThatOn January 24, 2008, Stortz was found shaved in his third-floor room on St. Phillips St. in the less church-surrounded area of Charleston. According to his roommate Nick, Stortz appeared fully bearded as he arrived home at approximately 4:30 p.m. EST with plans of mindlessly surfing the internet, entered the bathroom at about 4:45 p.m. to piss, and as he returned, found Stortz still severely fur-faced, with a puma track jacket, and grey beanie. Beard Trimmer "Conair" arrived at approximately 6:30 p.m. to give Stortz a cleaner look, and when he did not emerge by 6:40 p.m., negotiated sensible shaving ideas with no answer. Conair entered the bathroom, began to shave some thicker patches, and tried to style Stortz's face. Conair called actress Mary-Kate Olsen, whose number was very much not programmed in Stortz's cell phone. She replied she would have no part in talking to an inanimate object. After again attempting to just barely shorten Stortz's beard, Conair called Olsen again, and at 6:48 p.m. realized he had cut far too close, and had rather fucked up his beard in a severe way. Medical workers moved Stortz to the floor, used a pair of scissors and razor, and pronounced Stortz clean-shaven and baby-faced at 6:52 p.m.<br /><br />Lab partners said they found the new look to be sad and worrisome, and that there were "no obvious signs" of losing a bet. An initial beardtopsy later that night proved inconclusive at determining Stortz's cause of clean shavedness. The medical examiner's office stated it will take about 10 days to have a decent stubble.<br /><br /><center>-----------------------------------</center><br /><br />I can too easily see the phone conversation.<br /><br />"Hello?"<br />"Hi... who's this?"<br />"Oh, er... well it's Heath's masseuse..."<br />"Why have you got his phone?"<br />"Hahah oh! Um... well he's sleeping and won't wake up, you do anything to him?"<br />"No, haven't seen him in ages, is he alright?"<br />"Yeah! Well I guess, perhaps I should try and wake him up again... Nope, still nothing"<br />"Have you tried, oh I don't know, calling an emergency medical unit instead of calling a twenty one year old blonde chimp-faced trash bag with legs?"<br />"Er, well...no. Totally fun talking to you though!"<br /><br />The masseuse definitely called Mary-Kate out of pure star-strucked-ness, why the fuck wouldn't you call 911 first.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-57804086462761394722008-01-22T22:30:00.000-05:002008-01-22T22:36:56.895-05:00You Kissed Shannyn Sossamon, You've Had Your Run<center><img src="http://i256.photobucket.com/albums/hh185/animauxx/Some%20Distance/heathsorrydude.jpg"width=380><br /></center>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-86116732607771872952008-01-22T00:13:00.000-05:002008-01-22T00:52:36.032-05:00Death Toll / Family Outting / Brownout<center><img src="http://i256.photobucket.com/albums/hh185/animauxx/Some%20Distance/emerald.jpg"width=380></center><br /><br />How well does the imitation or view of historical events stand next to fact? I was reading a lot about how film makers are the most influential visual historians of our time, and how their decisions on what we're shown have a searing impact on how we identify with moments of time. Take for example, Oliver Stone's JFK. I remember renting that movie for research when I did a biography on Kennedy for 4th grade. Still remember my mother cringing as the word 'fuck' was used in rapid semi automatic succession during a scene with a wigged man. <br /><br />Anyway, that movie totally blew the Kennedy conspiracy up in the air for an entire generation, after it had taken forever to settle all of those decades. The fucker Stone makes out Jim Garrison as some hero trying to claw his way into the impenetrable facade of corrupt American government. In actuality, Garrison was a fucking kook who tried his damnedest to argue his point with the thinnest of connections. But that movie made me such a believer! Sure I was only ten or so, but fuck did I get that fear that something was wrong with our politics, and turned into a little pseudo liberal yoo-hoo loving dinosaur collector. <br /><br />All of the hysteria and conspiratorial hissy fitting after JFK's assassination on Soviet involvement and other more outlandish bullshit just makes me think of how godawful the media was post-September 11th, everyone sniffing out as many loose ends as possible and filling in the cracks with their own concoctions of what went down.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-90678267769820685962008-01-17T16:11:00.000-05:002008-01-17T16:19:08.467-05:00Flemish Humor<center><img src="http://i256.photobucket.com/albums/hh185/animauxx/Some%20Distance/dogspink.jpg"width=380></center><br /><br />Went to put on a clean plaid shirt I had in my closet today, but before leaving for class, noticed a decent sized tear under the left arm pit. Was thoroughly pissed, but thought it could be easily mended. Turns out it's more of a tennis ball-sized hole, left there after my damn mutt of a dog ate through it during a nervous breakdown when I left her alone at home for the day a few days before leaving for downtown. <br /><br />I can't tell if it's her semi-subtle way of getting back at me for leaving her, 'cause she chews on my clothing in areas where my scent would be strongest, like my boxers and the under arms of shirts. Maybe I taste good, but vanity most likely isn't the answer here. <br /><br />Notice how once in the plaid mood, I had to find and wear the now-crippled shirts twin.<br /><br />Also notice how my left eye is a festering cess pool of gooky pink-eye-dom. Somehow contracted viral conjunctivitis, very unhappy. Constantly go cross-eyed and can't for the life of me focus on anything even slightly bright. Went to the school's health department with little solution. Fuck.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-27133573233003687672008-01-15T23:50:00.000-05:002008-01-15T23:57:17.020-05:00MAY0208CMB3Can we end the <b>teaching</b> of how to make <b>things</b> bold and size 40 to teenage <b>girls</b>?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-40838946726497796742008-01-15T20:18:00.000-05:002008-01-15T20:24:49.917-05:00Skinny Girls<center><img src="http://i256.photobucket.com/albums/hh185/animauxx/Some%20Distance/laika.jpg"></center><br /><br />There are too many girls I want to paint, but I always end up painting dogs or swiss cheese meets semi-automatic mountainscapes.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-76608764768475659792008-01-15T16:02:00.000-05:002008-01-15T16:04:45.742-05:00DaughtersOnce you pass the age of 18, do you feel weirded out about 18 only porn sites?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-17417035236926727992008-01-14T18:26:00.000-05:002008-01-15T20:25:44.580-05:00Thomas Hobbes, Limousines, & NepalNothing gets much under my skin, well nothing other than my own doing or saying, self reflection and all that. I'm not impenetrable though, there's a soft fleshy under belly that doesn't heal all that well if reached. I'm also not one to cause bad blood, but somethings just need to be said and done. Not everything slips by. <br /><br />Over the weekend a good and endearing friend of mine had their birthday, and their ensuing celebratory party started out all well and chipper, but then a shit ton of that "parade rain" esque gloom covered it thicker than fuck. A thick fuck at that.<br /><br />The perpetrator knows well who he is, and most likely will never read this, though I'd wish he would, however indifferent he'd be. Mostly I'd like to point out that however many times you throw yourself at people, seething with that unbridled calculated apathetic snarl, you're cutting your ties with humanity more so than trying to improve it. You shout and bark for acceptance, and play all of the well worn and ragged cards of the socially inept middle school weirdo. Stilts drawn and towering over your crowd of spectators, all crowded in a corner, incapable of escaping your malicious intent. While we're looking the other way, you shout down how we're all elitists, near-spitting that we'd might as well have our entourage of servants laugh for us (to save us from exhausting our fat gloating throats) at how much superior our caviar stained lives are. <br /><br /><center>Well you're fucking right they are.</center><br /><br />I'd well choose to be slightly more socially inclined, somehow markedly more mentally stable, ten fold greater in the accomplishment field than just be a caricature of what was once a person. You say elitist and mumble bastardized comments of your views on people, and then puppy-eye beg for acceptance and rationality. If you'd like to be accepted, consider friendly engagements, consider not talking down to someone as soon as your glazed over view semi-focuses on most of their face.<br /><br /><br />I wasn't fully and utterly pissed about the fucked up actions at said party until they soaked in after a few days of sobered realization and discussion with friends. You don't fucking come to someone's party, disassociate yourself with everyone, and then vocally slander them. This is more than one person. It's someone's fucking birthday, not just another place to get drunk. I know myself and others are notoriously retained and away from others at parties, but we don't group up and bash people. This is all too whiny and bitch sounding, but for fuck sakes it needed to be vented.<br /><br />Some of you are still alright.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-74334379066020608802008-01-10T23:58:00.000-05:002008-01-11T00:11:52.866-05:00Dark Tide<center><img src="http://i256.photobucket.com/albums/hh185/animauxx/Some%20Distance/weatheredkelpp.jpg"width=380></center><br /><br />Some times gratuitous amounts of illegal music, social anxiety and a dry week are all you need.<br /><br />Today I thought of how awful life would be if I saw someone get killed in front of me. <br /><br />Fragile.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-39707215339647590032008-01-09T15:00:00.000-05:002008-01-09T15:39:57.642-05:00Packaging Tape Is The Loudest Sound On Home VideoI have time on my hands, and thought I didn't aim near enough the multitude of stereotypical blog related posts during this month, one being a re-cap of highs and lows of the past year. <br /><br />This is damn hard for me because I've got a bad habit of not being able to consider much anything earlier than a few months ago. So this might be asymmetrically weighed on the more recent than pre-summer 2007. But 'fuck cares, right?<br /><br />Anyway, an thoughtfully uncategorized selection of 'bests' & 'worsts'.<br /><br />Anything vague or stupid sounding is there to protect my standings as a decent human being.<br /><br /><center>-----------------------------------------</center><br /><br /><b>Best New Album Cover:</b> Danger's "09/14/2007" EP<br /><br /><b>Worst New Pet Peeve:</b> iTunes fucking stopping a currently playing album cause you're browsing around artists. (Probably fixable, but fuck)<br /><br /><b>Weirdest New Necessity:</b> Having to miss every reflective bump on the road when changing lanes.<br /><br /><b>Best New Purchase:</b> Laser Disc of Videodrome (Not true, as this was done like... a week ago, after New Years. (But again, fuck)<br /><br /><b>Best All Encompassing Experience:</b> Eating corn in a bar with a drunk couple and shy poor postured English student in the depths of Montreal's night-life side.<br /><br /><b>Worst Luck:</b> Leaving my bike on the side of town where a female cop said "hell I go to church by there, but I'd never leave my bike outside." Fucking fuckers. Fuck.<br /><br /><b>Best DJ Set Experience:</b> Tie between Geoff playing The Cardigans more than once at a party, and SebastiAn being lifted above his decks by fellow Bangers to float above the crowd at the Daft Punk Afterparty.<br /><br /><b>Worst Smell:</b> Whatever the fuck kind of perfume my mom puts on in excess (noticeable in car and in parent's bathroom)<br /><br /><b>Favorite New Dog:</b> German Shepherd. (& this weird 1/2 sized brown husky thing this Asian kid walks around campus all the time.)<br /><br /><b>Worst New Powdered Medication To Obsess Over:</b> Gold Bond Extra Strength Medicated Powder<br /><br /><b>Best Girl Experience:</b> Finding an excuse to increase relationship status with two different girls in the same room a month apart.<br /><br /><b>Newly Respected Artist/Person:</b> Tony Sinclair, Juan Maclean, Tom Hanks, Michael Mann<br /><br /><b>Most Adorable Text Message:</b> My mom trying to figure out how to text, here's the message as it originally appears, to prove its cuteness:<br /><br /><center>"Hi john i miss you would you like to go out for a quick dinner wednesday and i can get your dirty clothes and mdOO ggg v giv df give you the shejkjj5 shelves you need for the baa coffee pot this is my first text message by myrself iljjj ill get better please call me love you mom uf"</center><br /><br /><b>Worst/Coolest Scene:</b> Watching a dead discarded dog in someone's yard get slowly smaller and smaller in substance due to the large buzzard population near my house.<br /><br /><b>Favorite New Cereal:</b> Quaker Oatmeal Squares. (Fucking unbelievable)<br /><br /><b>Most Desired eBay Items:</b> '50s era helicopter pilot helmet, nice wooden laserdisc player, New Wave single, plain-backed black cafe racer jacket & Stephen Hawking's Hot Air Balloon if it were still up for bid.<br /><br /><b>Most Desired Transportation Device:</b> A Honda Motocompo, or a Honda c50.<br /><br /><b>Newly Acquired Taste In Noise To Wake Up To:</b> Fake rain from one of those Brookstone-y sound machines.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-44539613058290466742008-01-09T11:35:00.000-05:002008-01-09T11:42:21.866-05:00Nina Beneath The Drying OctopusBack downtown, and a new sense of enjoyment comes out of rearranging our room. The whole nestling effect is so true, putting a chair or coffee pot in a new corner is unnecessarily satisfying. <br /><br />My fears of insomnia cultivated last night, when (through the wonders of my thoroughly fucked schedule) I fell asleep at midnight, woke up around 4 AM, and didn't fall back asleep until thirty minutes before my alarm went off. P. Diddy has never scared the living shit out of me so much.<br /><br />During all of my attempts of finding sleep I did one of the least proactive things, which was to start deeply considering the implications of having the ability to stop (or infinitely slow down) time. A lot of thought concentrated on how I'd abuse it to up my income, and how I'd also use it for terribly mundane benefits, like having really witty comebacks.<br /><br />I might write a short story on it. Genies may or may not be involved. Space genies. Or like, the monolith from 2001. But in a lamp.<br /><br /><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Thief_and_the_Cobbler">Hmm..</a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3571780634241833715.post-70699148331242245192008-01-06T19:27:00.001-05:002008-01-06T19:30:16.479-05:00LIke Some Herd Of StrippersSaw a family of eastern screech owls last night, as I turned down my drive at 6 in the morning.<br /><br />Good friends though, and bisquick.<br /><br />Classes start soon. <br /><br />This has been the first shit post on this, I am deeply sorry.<br /><br />& I don't want to get vague about things.<br /><br />I'm buying my mother's Christmas present eleven days too late because I'm a selfish spoiled stuck-in-own-asshole son.<br /><br />That's only if I can part with money that's not even mine.<br /><br />I'm baking her a cake with the present though.<br /><br />She loves coconut.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0