<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d11161677\x26blogName\x3dIf+You+Will+It,+It+Is+No+Dream\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dSILVER\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttp://ifyouwillit.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://ifyouwillit.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d-4761984698030466944', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

Wednesday, March 07, 2007

 

Everyone can relax

I just thought I would come here and make everyone formally aware that I am the father of Anna Nicole's baby. Its totally true. Just listen to my story.
It happened one Saturday night when I was bored and lonely and decided to go to Lookers. After seeing the cream of the crop from the city of Syracuse take their clothes off and shake their floppy titties at me, I was ready to go. But when the next dancer came out I was forced to get a front row seat. Out came Anna Nicole in all her before Trim-Spa glory. It seemed many of the patrons did not realize who she was so it was me getting the most attention. I was throwing wadded up dollar bills at her and she caught them between her tits. A few times when she was on the pole she pretended to be King Kong. I threw dollar airplanes at her and she crushed them out of the sky, roaring. It gave me a huge erection.
When her dance segment was over she saw me heading for the door and caught up to me. She said she was impressed with my ingenuity in giving strippers money. The airplanes she was especially fond of because nobody else ever knew she was mimicking King Kong before. I told her I would recognize that hairy back and dragging knuckles any day of the week. This made her smile and I was invited into the back beyond the velvet curtain for a free private dance. On the way back, Anna remarked that she had never seen so many one dollar bills at the same time before. I told her I was a pizza delivery man and she swooned.
Once in the back she shoved me into a chair and slammed her fat ass into my lap. She started gyrating and said "Oh baby, I didn't think you would be so big. Or have two penises." I told her I don't have two penises and what she was feeling was a king size Snickers bar. This got her really hot and she proceeded to take it from my pocket and unwrap it-using only her mouth. She put one end in my mouth and the other end in hers and before I could take one bite she finished 90% of the bar. Snickers must be like cocaine to her because she became highly aroused and energetic. Before I knew what was happening my pants were at my ankles and my cock was stuck inside her. We banged furiously and at one point I say the bouncer shake his head and say "Damn, kid musta given that bitch a Snickers!" That shit made me laugh and the ensuing convulsions made me bust all up in that. Whoops. Lets hope she's had enough abortions to fuck up her uterus.
I peeled off a few bills and tossed them on the panting Anna lying exhausted on the chair. "Here, go buy yourself some Trim-Spa or cocaine and lose some weight. Maybe you wont have a heart attack next time somebody fucks you." I made my way past the bouncer who gave me a sly smile and winked at me. "You just made her night li'l nigga." After opening the door to leave I took one last look inside and saw Anna at the vending machine. She bought a Snickers.

Well everyone, that's how it happened. I am not ashamed to let the truth be known. Yes, I had sexual intercourse with Anna Nicole Smith which resulted in pregnancy. Once the courts find out about this and the paternity test verifies it, I will be one rich motha fucka. I think. She does have Millions and Millions of dollars right? Right!? Because if she doesn't then the whole story I told you was a lie. Anna who? I'm not taking care of no broke-ass dead woman's baby.

Saturday, February 24, 2007

 

Regrets Only

It is with great sadness in my heart that I reluctantly decline my invitation to this year's St. Peever's Day debauchery. Last year was the most fun I've had since the Carter administration and I was hoping for even half that much fun this year, however I will be on the sidelines in Syracuse. Unfortunately the timing of my trip to Spain is not a complete cockblock, but pretty damn close. I'm getting back the 14th, the 15th being a day of rest, and then it's back to work for me.

Listen: If you guys jerk me off enough you just might convince me to come down. I always have sundays off and I could conceivably take Saturday off, leaving the weekend open for debaucherous activity. I could come down Friday evening and get things rolling. I'm not sure if I'll want to drive because I'm a pussy. I'll just be way too tired. If anyone else from the syracuse area wants to head down Friday not I could possibly be convinced. I want to go, and I'll probably make a last-minute decision when i get back, depending on how lag I'm running with my processor. We'll see boys....

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

 

My New Mix

No pretentions here, boys and girls. I felt like making a mix and that's what I did. There isn't much of a theme. I was feeling a little down so I tried to keep it upbeat, or at least relatively fast paced, although there are admittedly some dark-themed songs on here. It's impossible to supress the darkness within, so you have to flirt with it a little to show you aren't scared. Anyway, there aren't really any songs on here that I feel are a stretch, or present for the sake of trying new shit. You'll notice a couple self-indulgent songs but like I said, this mix is for me. Just an overall solid feel, I think. Check it out:

1. The Shins - Sleeping Lessons
2. Dropkick Murphys - I'm Shipping Up to Boston
3. ....Trail of the Dead - Another Morning Stoner
4. Walkmen - The Rat
5. Black Keys - When the Lights Go Out
6. Band of Horses - The Funeral
7. Stephen Malkmus - It Kills
8. Badly Drawn Boy - Camping Next to Water
9. Modest Mouse - Dramamine
10. Tom Waits - Clap Hands
11. Massive Attack - Angel
12. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club - Red Eyes and Tears
13. Murder City Devils - Rum to Whiskey
14. Nick Cave - The Mercy Seat
15. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah! - Satan Said Dance
16. The Knife - Heartbeats
17. Arcade Fire - In the Back Seat
18. Built to Spill - Strange
19. K-OS - Hallelujah

 

"I thought he was a bitter man"

I discussed with Trent the other night about how I like to look up and down a subway train and assess the overall dynamic the people present are creating as well as try to figure out what each individual is thinking about. I decided that it as good as anything to Blog about so you may see multiple posts related to the observations I make over the course of time.

I'll start with the experience I had a few nights ago: "The subway car full of people with giant noses"

7:26 P.M. - 34th street stop - Q train

I look up from my Time Magazine article about Barack Obama and I do a quick rundown of the passengers. "Damn" I say to myself. Everyone on this train has a gigantic nose. Not a large-but-fits-the-big-head nose, but actual gargantuan noses that protrude far into the world as if they own the air they inhale. One, two, three, four [headed to 14th st. - Union Square], five, six, oh my god....seven, eight! Eight people with a nose that makes it looks as though they all share the same genetic code of Steve Martin in Roxanne! As I look into each person's eyes, trying all the time to keep my focus from moving towards their honker, I can see that they are not embarrassed by their mighty extremity. Instead, they seem to draw confidence as if they know they've entered a domain where [arrive at 14th st. - Union Square] big ast noses are the majority. All this schnoz pondering causes me to hack at a large, crooked booger in my rather large nostril and I realize at this point that I miscounted "nine....I forgot myself." I go back to reading Time and by the time we get to Canal St., I look up and see that everyone of my brethren have left the train and have been replaced by a gang of small sniffer wannabes.

 
I discussed with Trent the other night about how I like to look up and down a subway train and assess the overall dynamic the people present are creating as well as try to figure out what each individual is thinking about. I decided that it as good as anything to Blog about so you may see multiple posts related to the observations I make over the course of time.

I'll start with the experience I had a few nights ago: "The subway car full of people with giant noses"

7:26 P.M. - 34th street stop - Q train

I look up from my Time Magazine article about Barack Obama and I do a quick rundown of the passengers. "Damn" I say to myself. Everyone on this train has a gigantic nose. Not a large-but-fits-the-big-head nose, but actual gargantuan noses that protrude far into the world as if they own the air they inhale. One, two, three, four [headed to 14th st. - Union Square], five, six, oh my god....seven, eight! Eight people with a nose that makes it looks as though they all share the same genetic code of Steve Martin in Roxanne! As I look into each person's eyes, trying all the time to keep my focus from moving towards their honker, I can see that they are not embarrassed by their mighty extremity. Instead, they seem to draw confidence as if they know they've entered a domain where [arrive at 14th st. - Union Square] big ast noses are the majority. All this schnoz pondering causes me to hack at a large, crooked booger in my rather large nostril and I realize at this point that I miscounted "nine....I forgot myself." I go back to reading Time and by the time we get to Canal St., I look up and see that everyone of my brethren have left the train and have been replaced by a gang of small sniffer wannabes.

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

 

Unbelievable!

So today I was sitting in my bed, watching some TV when I hear a loud crash. Now, I'm trying to take a nap so I figure its not worthy of me getting out of my nice, warm bed to investigate. Holy shit, was I wrong.
If you know the topography of where my house is located you would know that it sits slightly to the left of a three way intersection at the bottom of a hill. Now, this hill is not extremely steep, but at high speeds with ice on the roads it can be a little tricky to navigate. Apparently it was Much too much for this driver. Not only did she plow through the initial three foot high wall of snow on the edge of the lawn, she drove through the lawn, decimated the bushes, hit the porch breaking loose spindles and destroying the banister, ricocheted off the concrete base, through more bushes, slid over the driveway missing my car by about five feet (luckily my sister decided to park in the garage or her car would have been totaled), her back end clipped the tree on the far left side of my house, finally coming to rest directly on top of our mailbox. Ta-Daa! I think the phrase Holy Fuck would be appropriate here. The car was a Pontiac Aztec (apparently renamed to Rally), the driver was a . {just now I told the story to a friend online and her exact response was:"Holy Fuck", so I guess I was right} 35+/-yr old black woman. I called 911 and summoned the police while observing her out the window furiously spinning her wheels in reverse. Good things she was on top of a large snowbank or she would have slammed directly into my car.
Anyway, the story she told the police she had only been going ten miles per hour. Yea, fuckin' right! You can't make a complete U-turn across the entire lawn, through three feet of snow, going 10 mph. My guess was she was initially going about 45-50 down the hill, tried to stop but hit the gas and freaked out. She continued hitting the gas until she came to a rest on the mailbox. At this point you should be asking yourself, "What the hell was she doing going that fast for?" Well, my good sir, the answer is she was running from the repo man. Yes, thats right, the REPO MAN. At the start of this whole debacle, the repo guys were at her work or wherever, and started to take her car. She ran outside, hopped in and took off (possibly hitting another vehicle in the process). The repo men said they tailed her going 70 down Taft Rd. She refuted this saying that it would be impossible to go that fast down that road. Here, I almost spoke up by saying I've done 90 on it, but that wouldn't have been very prudent. She continued her bullshit story to the cop and I went to survey the damage. Luckily it was all cosmetic and no structural damage. I did find big plastic panels from her car lying on the porch though. I picked them up, set them by her vehicle, and from behind a stifled laugh told her, "here are some pieces for your car". I ran inside ,grabbed the camera and started taking photos of the damage. I shot about 6-10 pictures I think (they will be up soon). I stood around for a few more minutes listening to her talk to the officer then went inside, laugh-ing all-the-way, Ha-Ha-Ha!
Now, over an hour later, they finally hauled her wreck of a car away, leaving behind the improbable tracks of a woman gone crazy.

P.S. Incidently we removed a tree from our front lawn this spring. Her tracks went right over where this tree once stood. If we had not removed that tree somebody could have died on my front lawn.

Sunday, February 04, 2007

 

More Lebowski Fun

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MuCRJsR5Rpo

 

Music Moves Me

Hey, Mike Y, why don't you do us all a favor and post the new Beirut EP on the blog. We got it at borders - it is officially released Tuesday - and it's sweeter than cherries. Each of the five songs moves me in a way I haven't felt in some time, although admittedly I haven't been performing at my usual rate of music discovery. So hook up up, why don't you?

Actuelly, the best thing about this Ep will be our ability to comment on it. Clap Your Hands was too difficult and here's why: We liked their previous album way to much, while in fact this release isn't all that good. Here's what's up broken down mathematicaly:

From the first 5 tracks -
I am insanely in love with one track.
There are 2.5 tracks which I like in a new Decemberists sort of way, meaning each songs sounds great initially, but upon further review does not appear to be anything which one could listen to over and over (no pun intended) again. Unless, of course, you do not agree with my assesment of the Decemberists new shit.
There are 2.5 tracks which are technically solid, and I liked them within 2 listens and I'll still listen to them today. But, when my Ipod gets reorganized they will no longer exist to me except on a burned cd. There's nothing wrong with this and it's decent music. My point is that this album is not a sufficient follow-up to their first album, so raw and pure.

Finally we arrive at anything past track 5:

Songs range from so-so to horrendous. The odds are almost 1-1 the I delete "Yankee Go Home" from my computer. The reason at least half of this album does not work, the way I see it, it the increased emphasis on productoion value. When CYHSY sent their first album into where ever they sent it to, it was pure heart. Their self-titled work was, to use a cliche, their blood, sweat and tears. They cared about what they were playing and singing about in the way only an album with no store-bought production can. Now, of course, they still want to be the best they can be, but when you have people pulling on your sleave from both sides it becomes occasionally dificult to match such a heart-felt vocal completely with the music. I guess I see music which has evolved to leave some of the core aspects of the artwork as a whole - a privative artwork which we loved so much the first time around - behind in an unreformed state. I hope Clap Your Hands does not become The caveman in the Geico comercial: evelved in theory but left behind in spirit.

Friday, February 02, 2007

 

Ladies and Gentlemen: We Got Him!

No, not Osama. He's still out there. No, this is a continuation of my previous post. We officially have our freedom back because we got the guy pilfering 15 disks at a time from Borders. Now, borders probably doesn't need the money, but do really really need a guy with 2 priors and a coke habbit ravaging our retail stores? ( I know this cause the cops told me, if you're wondering)Probably not. I mean, this guy has a tough life. Hopefully they treat him well in prison. It is with mixed emotions that a relay to you the notion that it is now once again safe to shop for books at Borders, Syracuse.

Thursday, February 01, 2007

 

It's Cold and Dark, Here's Some Inspiration

A few weekends ago I had a lot of fun. Vassallo and Trent were up, Mike Y stopped by, so did various other people from our high school days. It was a fun weekend filled with laughs and wild times and the only thing that felt different to me was that I wasn't stoned. Well, one more thing felt different, and that was during the first couple minutes of our reaquaintance with one another I seemed to feel all the pressure from "real-life" evaporate into the air before we could get down to business as old pals. We all know these pressures: Stevy goes to a job he hates but does pretty well, Trent works for little money in a place where you need big money, Mike Y works like a slave and I dream, occasionally, of what my life has become and where it's going. We all engage in our own little race against the clock, and as hard as this might be at times, we all make it through the dark night and wake up in the morning with a little humor. Because life has no blueprints, we couldn't imagine where we are now, and can't imagine where we're going. Our deal, though, ensures that we'll always be able to get through our days, our weeks, our months....and onto the next occasion where we have carefree times. The reason for this is that we know how to think. We are "well-adjusted." We can look at a situation and see gravity when it's time, and we can look at something maddening and laugh like we're on a cloud. David Foster Wallace gave a commencement speech in 05 that'll knock your socks off - it'll help you through your day. I read it a while back, but found it today in Non-Required Reading, a short fiction compilation edited by Dave Eggers. So I read it on my break and it once again removed me from my body and had me floating about the whole machinery of syracuse like the enlightened one for a while. I urge you all to read:

http://www.marginalia.org/dfw_kenyon_commencement.html

 

Beware The Mooninites!


As you guys have probably heard, yesterday the "great" city of Boston was shut down due to "mysterious electronic devices" planted around the city. What they turned out to be were, in fact, Lite-Brights of the Moonitite characters from Aqua Teen Hunger Force. Several things about this incidient have filled me with rage. First, the "devices" were in place for weeks and nobody had bothered to call the authorities. Its been said that this may have been a ploy by the perpetrators in order to garner more attention to the placement of these things. I have a problem with that logic seeing as it was supposed to be a viral campaign and not a a mass media promotion. Second, what fucking terrorist puts bright fucking lights on their fucking bomb? Arent they supposed to remain undetected until the time of detonation? and also back to point #1, they were there for WEEKS! shouldnt a terrorist blow that shit up shortly after placing it?(with or without himself strapped to it, their choice[prefferably strapped to it]). And Three, they looked like this: http://www.flickr.com/photos/vanderlin/358766067/. Once again, what stupid fucking terrorist would put a god damn cartoon character on their bombs? In bright fucking colors no less! In conspicuous areas! Jesus Christ! People are so fucking stupid. I had an idea to drive to Boston, walk into the police station and demand a job based solely on my intellect of discerning between a bomb AND A FUCKING LITE-BRIGHT! And now two people have been arrested because the mayor and his crack police force need a scapegoat after revealing themselves for the idiots they really are. The mayor has repeatedly called this incident a hoax. A hoax of what? The defintion of hoax is something purporting to be something its not. Were these hoax bombs? No, because they were never intended to be mistaken for bombs. Your god, they were only as thick as a piece of sheet metal. Were they hoax Lite-Brights? Hell no, they WERE LITE-BRIGHTS!. AAARRRGGG!!! Ok, Brian, deep breaths. Thats good. Again. In and out. There, I feel a little better now venting my frustration. Anyway the American public (well, Bostonians anyway) need to calm the fuck down. Not everything you see is a bomb people. Especially not PIECES OF SHEET METAL WITH LIT UP CARTOON CHARACTERS ON THEM! (Whoa, dude, remember to breathe) In the end I hope that the arrested parties get off scot-free, sue the city, make millions of dollars and Bostons fires its entire police force and impeaches their mayor. You stiff motherfuckers are ruining what this great nation stands for.

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?