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Friday, February 17, 2006



I saw this documentary recently called DiG! which should probably interest the other two readers of this blog. It was shot over something like 5 years and was released recently on DVD. The action follows two indie bands - The Brian Jonestown Massacre and the Dandy Warhols - for this length, beginning when both these bands were pre-record deal, because at this time both were hyped as the next really huge thing in indie music, possibly the next VU (how anyone came up with this is anyone's guess). But so it turns out that once this girl got into shooting this thing, the subject of her lens became much more specific, namely the lead singer and insane mastermind behind the Brian Jonestown Massacre, Anton Newcombe. This guy is seriously a roit - half musical genius, half Napolean Dynamite - and is probably 4x more interesting than the actual music and its progression.

I highly recommend this doc., and it turned me onto the Brian Jonestown Massacre, who I hadn't heard of prior to seeing this. (On a side note I'd listened to the Dandy Warhols previously and pretty much hated their low-grade brand of indie pop). You may or may not have heard of the BJM, but regardless there's good news for those who want a listen. Since Anton is indeed mad, he has no use for money (he was recording 3-4 albums/yr for about $15-$100/album. Their first, "Thank God for Mental Illness" was laid down for 15USD (I also recommend starting with this album for a listen (I especially like "Stars"))) and furthermore, believes no money should be made from the art of music, their entire discography is available to download for free from http://www.brianjonestownmassacre.com/mp3.html
The only downside is that they come is some sort of file type (starts with on "O" i think, but I can't remember what it's called) which itunes does not support. Further bad news for yours truly is that my free trial of the db power amp converter has expired, so i can't convert them (any suggestions?).

Always remember: There are two types of people in this world, my friends: those with loaded pistols. And those who dig.


Thursday, February 16, 2006

What do you mean "brought it bowling?" I'm not paying for its shoes. I'm not buying it a fucking beer. It's not taking your fucking turn, Dude.

Monday, February 06, 2006


back to buffalo

You might not have heard about my hasty departure from Buffalo. After the second robbery in a week, a robbery during which my driver's-side window was smashed but nothing was stolen (because my cd player had been robbed in a similar incedent a few days prior), I was incredibly pissed off. I actually didn't mind being robbed the first time believe it or not. Shit like that happens and if you think about it, it wasn't a totally pointless act. Someone broke the small corner window in the back and took a product which he could sell for money. The second time, though, right after my window had been repaired, some retard broke another window - a really big window (in the middle of winter) and took nothing. So that person got nothing out of it and I had to pay for another window, although worse than that was driving to my last final exam of my college career that frigid morning, driving back to my apartment still steaming, moving my shit out as quickly as possible because I couldn't rationalize staying there one more night, and driving two hours in the freezing cold at 75mph from Buffalo to Cuse with no music. Internally I was hot as fire but physically my legs felt like Gumby even with the heat on full blast.

But I enjoy Buffalo and I enjoy seeing my friends, so Thursday night - spur of the moment - I made my Ali-like return to Buffalo. My friend John Russo and I were actually going to head for Atlantic City because our friend had a room there, but couldn't rationalize 12hrs of driving when there are also two casinos in the Buffalo area. After finally getting out of work at 11:15pm we were on the road watching Old School in my friend's explorer and hit Buffalo around 2. This is when the fun began. We immediately hooked up with Telly (who says what up to stevy and mike y btw) and hit the bar for a couple good hours of drinking. Unfortunately I couldn't get ahold of rudy or nate, probably due to copious inhalation of marijuana smoke. Just as well I guess because Telly alone is enough fun for anyone to handle. We soon had taken many shots. All of a sudden Dallas comes out of the cut spot and we end up buying her and her friends many drinks, and I vaguely remember trying to have sex with Dallas only to wind up in her bed all alone because she was sleeping with her roommate Claire (don't ask).

Day 2 of our trip was going to be spent at Casino Niagra at the poker table, but we met up with a frien of mine from L'pool who goes to Canesius and we decided basically to attack the gym all day, playing raquetball, basketball and engaging in some light weightlifting. After that I pounded like four Gatoraides since I had an inkling we'd be doing a lot of serious drinking that night, the kind of drinking that should be considered for an Olympic event.

Sure enough, we soon get out the bottle of Three Olives (comparable to Goose and $10 cheaper) and I start drinking with my other friend Mike because John is in the middle of an online poker session during which he would end up losing 4500 USD (no joke). After that savage beating he had enough fuel in his tank for some seriously aggressive drinking, and that's what we did.

The first bar we went to was the only one worth mentioning. That kid Mike's friend was tanding bar so we made an appearance to show him some support. Remember Camel's Breath Vassallo? This place was just about the same clientelle-wise. No camel though, and instead of in the middle of a strip mall it was surrounded by rundown warehouses that towered around it. At first we couldn't even find the place, and were a little disappointed when we did. But of course we were going to drink there anyway. John bought about 5 drinks and 10 shots in one round and gave our man behind the bar $8 for his trouble, which caused a chain reaction of the manager blowing his load in excitement (that was probably half the money he took in that night), and basically a ton of shots shipped our way free of charge. I mean this place was a true dive and the weirdos all around us were just standing around staring at whatever and just being weird, hardly drinking. So we got sick of that place about as quick as we got drunk there (pretty fast).

After that stop, the night became pretty standard: we drank til 4, didn't pull any girls, went to Jim's Steakout where the line was out the door, so we went to a knockoff instead which served a great taco if you're into sauce that's suicidally hot when you're drunk at 4:30am, went back to the apt., found a box of Dunkin D's minis, and were presented with no other choice, in my mind, than to fire the minis at high velocities at each other in the apt.

After 36 hours of pretty illogical decisions we drove back to cuse with a cracked front window (not my car) not knowing how it happened. The end.

Saturday, February 04, 2006


Jonathan Richman

I am embaressed friends. I am embarrased that I am announcing my recent discovery of Jonathan Richman. I've been listening to his album I, Jonathan and every song is so interesting and inventive. If you haven't checked out Pandora (where I discovered) yet, do so and enjoy the fruits of web 2.0. I'm at work right now so I must go back to preparing our second month of testing Lehman Bros.' new structured deal review process (yes, it is as boring as it sounds). Quick thoughts before this blog ends:

Clap Your Hands concert was awesome.
I've invited many people for St. Patrick's day so I will be sending out a mass e-mail to figure out accomidations.
I miss you all (Y, Whi and Trent since you are the only ones who contribute and read)
Are you moving to NYC Y?
Seahawks by 10


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