September 30th, 2008

Even if your voice comes back again maybe there'll be no one listening. - Andrew McMahon, Jack's Mannequin, Glass Passenger

New music Tuesday is my third favorite day of the week. First is Pool League Thursday and second being New Comics Wednesday. Essentially the middle of the week I am over-stimulated, caffeinated, boozed up, shooting stick and rocking steady.

This week marked the release of albums from three of my favorite acts: Jack's Mannequin, Ben Folds and Bayside.

Quick words on Jack's Mannequin's Glass Passenger. This CD: I was so excited, I ripped the cellophane off with my teeth while driving. This album was worth getting excited about.

I know many of you will say, "I've had this album for three weeks from Limewire." First, you use Limewire? Ha, you suck at stealing music. Two, I have been on a kick of buying my music lately. Not because I think there is a moral imperative or because I feel am robbing the artists by stealing their music. I could give a shit about morals and convictions. As I have stated before and will again, I don't really have any convictions. I just got sick of not having something tangible. That is pretty simple. I like to hold stuff, usually soft stuff, but occasionally, a polycarbonate disc.

Getting back on track: this album is simply wonderful. I tried to take a completely objective look at it, however, I could not with all things in consideration.

Andrew McMahon's resume is as follows:
Start an awesome power-pop band and release a few very good albums: check!
Start a second just as awesome, just as successful power-pop act: check!
(this is where it gets impressive)
Kick the ever-living shit out of acute late-stage cancer and then return to release another awesome album: double-fucking-check!

Aside from all that, this album contains some of his best song writing to date, all carefully crafted with heartfelt lyrics, blah blah blah, normal CD review jargon. However, the one track that stood out to me is American Love. Not because it is the best song or because it has the most penetrating lyrics (because it doesn't, "big hearts are made to be broken", yeah, no, that is going to be on every 14 year old girls' myspace for at least the next three months) but because it sounds like an 80s rock anthem with 2000s pop-sensibility (see 'tone down the synth dude'). The song should be in the closing credits to Karate Kid or Goonies. I probably hold the world record for most times listening to that track. Go me.

I haven't even bothered to listen to the other two albums yet. However there is no chance they will beat this album out for my pick of the week. So there it is. Sorry LL Cool J. Maybe next time.

Other than that, no dogs pissing on me since last time. Hopefully this trend continues.

September 28th, 2008

It is not everyday one is peed upon. At least I hope...

I loathe people who keep dogs. They are cowards who haven't got the guts to bite people themselves. -August Strindberg

Or in my case, piss on their roommates.

We are finally moved in. My room is nearly all set and I am loving it. The process of moving in was actually much smoother than I anticipated. Though I have to live in the hot attic, up steep stairs, I have the largest room. Also, I have the lowest ceiling. Once I have a chance to post pictures, I will.

Today was the first day we tried to have both Pete's dog Rofl and Joe's dog Scooby in the house at the same time. Both are small dogs with Scooby being the smaller, weighing in at less than ten pounds. While I was enjoying a Sunday football game, Scooby decided to hop on my lap. I let him because he had spent the majority of the day barking at me and I assumed it meant he had finally taken a liking to me.

He had not taken a liking to me.

At least Rofl would never pee on me.

Schooling is going well. I am anxious for my first exams. It has been three years since I have even seen an exam.

September 23rd, 2008

I'm four days into my lease with zero days spent in the house. Paying rent to not live somewhere is something like having a storage unit, an expensive storage unit. A storage unit that only holds three boxes of books, a box of CDs and two jackets.

I have yet to find a day when I can convince or bribe someone to help me move my bed. As much as I like to think of myself as the resident strong-man, I cannot carry a queen size box spring up a flight of stairs. I hope to move in tomorrow. If my father won't help, I will bribe Mark with Moscow Mules. Something about vodka and ginger wins him over more quickly than money.

Expecting to move today, I went shopping for the few necessities I did not yet have. As it turns out, Super Target does not sell luffas. If they do, they hide them. I usually like retail Easter Eggs. I like them less when I actually need them. Children were screaming while I was trying to shop. I don't think it makes me heartless to dislike children. Of course, if they are kin, that is a whole different matter. Kin changes everything.

Five weeks into class and my enthusiasm hasn't wavered. I am inclined to believe this means I have finally moved out from behind the aegis of apathy. Now I am accountable for my failures: too many to list, too ignoble to recount. I hope to not add to that list this year.

I suppose I need to finally move into my new home and complete a semester of college before I start making stump speeches about change. Nothing has changed yet except for the season.

"I get up every morning determined to both change the world and have one hell of a good time. Sometimes this makes planning my day difficult." - E.B. White