Ancient Rumblings
Thankyou to those who left comments on the last blog. First of all, I would like to again clear my name of the slanderous lie that I had anything to do with John’s feeble dresser. I’ve owned up to the damages I accrued over the years, and I’ve stood by them no matter the cost to my upstanding reputation.
This includes, but is not limited to, 1) several desk chairs, 2) several shower curtains, 3) a bathroom mirror torn off the wall, 4) a kicked out bathroom window, 5) many hockey-stick-slashed and punched out walls in my townhouse, 6) garbage cans emptied up and down the hallway freshman year on several occassions, 7) a love seat, 8) a door frame, 9) a shoe streak left on my parents living room wall after I threw my brother’s sneaker across the room at 3am (post-college), 10) punched in bedroom wall (pre-college), 11) completely smashed in front end of my truck ($3500 damage), 12) mangled telephone pole (related incident), 13) a door beaten right off the frame (post-college), 14) window kicked out (related incident), 15) screaming at a group of five black guys at 2AM on Delaware Ave., “What the fuck are you staring at!?” and so on (while a shocked and rightfully apprehensive companion pulled me away) (also post-college), 16) forbidding anyone in the room to open the fridge for the RA’s and demanding that they call their RD and wake him up sophomore year (which only served to land me on “residential probation”), 17) abandoning the Allegany bars and falling down a cliff behind someone’s house while jacketless in the snow and smashing face-first into a tree – tried to get back up and fell the rest of the way down, 18) smashing a beer bottle over my townhouse kitchen counter and cutting my hand wide open for a reason that escapes me, 20) Spring Weekend ’05: telling the hotel manager that “I don’t listen to Olean people,” throwing a whiskey bottle across the parking lot, and then hiding from my friends in the woods for two hours (came within six feet of being sprayed by a skunk), 21) and finally whatever damage (hopefully none) occurred from a beer bottle being thrown from the living room through the open bar area and into the kitchen at Fraser’s townhouse during a party (after which I got up and announced I was leaving by blowing my ice rink whistle at full blast). I’ll admit to this entire inventory of stories, and maybe some others I’m forgetting to mention. So I have no reason to hide from the fact that I broke Fraser’s dresser … if that is what happened. But it isn’t. I’ll go to my grave saying it … in fact my guess is that it will be my last words on this earth – “I didn’t break Fraser’s dresser sophomore year, damn it!!” As for hearing the “dresser story” – you’d have to ask Fraser, but I think his contention is that I threw the chair into it. At least that’s what it was most recently.
As for the honorable Rosiek’s suggestion that a good old night of wild drinking could make for fun stories – maybe, but nothing good will come of it. The last time I tried (October) I got dragged out of Dave and Buster’s (the family restaurant/bar) by the police at 8:30PM after throwing around some geek, and very nearly arrested by a crabby officer while a crowd of yuppies and old people said “yah, that’s him.” Thankfully, I was saved by the last-second emergence of one of the owners who told the officer to let me go if I promised to leave immediately and never return. I promised and left. So I’m trying to stay away from the demon whiskey.
“Highway Companion” … Tom Petty’s third solo album … is now supposed to come out in June. If this actually happens – and I have my doubts about it – it will mean that it took over a year from the album’s initial announcement to actually hit stores. But since there is no official release date, and fans are merely going off of Petty’s recent interview claiming June as the month, I’d be surprised if this even came to pass. I mean, Petty originally said the end of ’05. Then he said the beginning of ’06. Then he said March of ’06. None of this ever happened … so now I’m just saying don’t be surprised if June doesn’t either. The record label has yet to announce the album or provide a release date, so we might be waiting until the beginning of the 22nd century to see this album. Either way … if it does eventually make its way into the consumer’s hands, it’s bound to be a masterful album, and not just because it’s Petty. For one thing, Petty’s two highest selling albums ever were his other two solo efforts. For another thing, he’s working with long time friend and fellow Wilbury Jeff Lynne, and that tag team has proven dynamic enough in the past (*see “Free Fallin” “I Won’t Back Down” “Runnin’ Down a Dream” “Learning to Fly” “Face in the Crowd” “Yer So Bad” and “Into the Great Wide Open”).
As for Petty on tour this summer – while long suspected, it’s been officially confirmed. Though no official dates (beyond Bonnaroo), they will reportedly be touring in June and July and then in September and October (I think those were the months I read, but I’m not going back to check). To celebrate the 30th anniversary of their self-titled debut they will be hitting the road with friends, which will include Pearl Jam, and possibly The Strokes (cool), John Mayer (uggh), and others. They’d better make damn sure they get to Darien Lake again. I’ll catch them in Bonnaroo of course, but I want them on my home turf as well. It’s only fair, after all. I travel 13 hours south to see them once, they travel way up north to see me once.
The Sabres are breaking my heart. Kalinin is a travesty and it’s time to accept that and move on. We really could have used a point man at the trade deadline, but as usual, Regier doesn’t like to do his job. Maybe he doesn’t realize he even has a job, I don’t know.
Did you catch the new South Park? Masterful, as expected. What better way could there have been to write a bitter scientologist out of the cast than to have him molest children, get hit by lightning, fall down a cliff, get stabbed by a tree branch, get shot three or four times by a rifle, have his face pulled off by a lion, and his leg chewed off by a bear? Nicely played, Matt and Trey.
As much as I hate the world of never-ending commercials and advertisement, I am not above shamelessly plugging a product I swear by. You may have noticed, if you read this blog on a regular basis – though I pity you if you do that – that I like to do my fair share of free advertisement for various markets and force it down your trusting gullet. So, in that spirit, here’s a bit of unsolicited marketing on behalf of Buffalo’s favorite alternative newspaper … THE BEAST! Readers of (the profoundly talented keeper of centuries-old wisdom) Fraser’s blog have already seen this plug … but seriously, if you’re not reading this newspaper, get your mug out of your bum and pick up a copy. I have yet to peruse this periodical without finding myself nearly in tears. It’s worth reading for the writing alone, which is bitingly sarcastic, fantastically cynical, and totally hilarious. For instance … one article in the most recent issue was about the boys who were just arrested for starting several churches on fire. Their defense was that it was a joke that got out of hand. The entire article in The Beast was comprised of fake quotes from government, church, and police officials who were tremendously relieved to learn that it was just a joke, and that in light of this it was actually very funny. In response to the boys’ claim that the first couple of fires were set up as a distraction, The Beast imaginatively quotes the chief of police as admitting that they were completely baffled and had even begun to formulate a theory that the fires weren’t fires at all, but earthquakes. Another article about a planned hotel project on Elmwood suddenly referenced the current landlord of the property, saying that the guy “is widely regarded around Buffalo to be a total dick, in addition to having the name of a comic book super-villain” (note: I do not recall the guy’s name, so piss off). The Beast also chastised a letter writer for referring to the mentally handicapped as “retards,” saying that this offensive word had no place in their own vocabulary – they then went on to refer to mentally retarded people as ‘changelings’, and various other oddities, all very entertaining. “What’s your point, Sherry, you wandering, incoherent toad?” Well, only this. Newspapers, weeklies, and periodicals in general can become very repetitive and tedious in their cliché style, strict adherence to journalistic codes, and sweeping generalities without being able to take a position. The Beast is your antidote to this journalistic swamp ass. Seek them out if you live in Buffalo. If you don’t – get yourself a subscription, jerk!
I’m currently looking for a new roommate. If you already know who I am, and you enjoy The White Stripes and Tom Petty constantly being played at extreme volumes, and if you think the Sabres are the most important group of individuals in the known universe, and if you can tolerate a sometimes reclusive, sometimes brash asshole as a roommate, and if you want a two-story living room with a spiral staircase going up to a loft with a pool table (the place is immaculate), and if you want to live a block away from the Elmwood bars, and if you want to constantly be regaled by me about things that I think are totally interesting and brilliant even if you couldn’t care less … or if you know anyone who meets these qualifications … speak up! I have to let the landlord know in the next month if I’m staying.
I will now close with this bit of wordless poetry:
“
.”
Remember that. And be excellent to each other.
A Presto
This includes, but is not limited to, 1) several desk chairs, 2) several shower curtains, 3) a bathroom mirror torn off the wall, 4) a kicked out bathroom window, 5) many hockey-stick-slashed and punched out walls in my townhouse, 6) garbage cans emptied up and down the hallway freshman year on several occassions, 7) a love seat, 8) a door frame, 9) a shoe streak left on my parents living room wall after I threw my brother’s sneaker across the room at 3am (post-college), 10) punched in bedroom wall (pre-college), 11) completely smashed in front end of my truck ($3500 damage), 12) mangled telephone pole (related incident), 13) a door beaten right off the frame (post-college), 14) window kicked out (related incident), 15) screaming at a group of five black guys at 2AM on Delaware Ave., “What the fuck are you staring at!?” and so on (while a shocked and rightfully apprehensive companion pulled me away) (also post-college), 16) forbidding anyone in the room to open the fridge for the RA’s and demanding that they call their RD and wake him up sophomore year (which only served to land me on “residential probation”), 17) abandoning the Allegany bars and falling down a cliff behind someone’s house while jacketless in the snow and smashing face-first into a tree – tried to get back up and fell the rest of the way down, 18) smashing a beer bottle over my townhouse kitchen counter and cutting my hand wide open for a reason that escapes me, 20) Spring Weekend ’05: telling the hotel manager that “I don’t listen to Olean people,” throwing a whiskey bottle across the parking lot, and then hiding from my friends in the woods for two hours (came within six feet of being sprayed by a skunk), 21) and finally whatever damage (hopefully none) occurred from a beer bottle being thrown from the living room through the open bar area and into the kitchen at Fraser’s townhouse during a party (after which I got up and announced I was leaving by blowing my ice rink whistle at full blast). I’ll admit to this entire inventory of stories, and maybe some others I’m forgetting to mention. So I have no reason to hide from the fact that I broke Fraser’s dresser … if that is what happened. But it isn’t. I’ll go to my grave saying it … in fact my guess is that it will be my last words on this earth – “I didn’t break Fraser’s dresser sophomore year, damn it!!” As for hearing the “dresser story” – you’d have to ask Fraser, but I think his contention is that I threw the chair into it. At least that’s what it was most recently.
As for the honorable Rosiek’s suggestion that a good old night of wild drinking could make for fun stories – maybe, but nothing good will come of it. The last time I tried (October) I got dragged out of Dave and Buster’s (the family restaurant/bar) by the police at 8:30PM after throwing around some geek, and very nearly arrested by a crabby officer while a crowd of yuppies and old people said “yah, that’s him.” Thankfully, I was saved by the last-second emergence of one of the owners who told the officer to let me go if I promised to leave immediately and never return. I promised and left. So I’m trying to stay away from the demon whiskey.
“Highway Companion” … Tom Petty’s third solo album … is now supposed to come out in June. If this actually happens – and I have my doubts about it – it will mean that it took over a year from the album’s initial announcement to actually hit stores. But since there is no official release date, and fans are merely going off of Petty’s recent interview claiming June as the month, I’d be surprised if this even came to pass. I mean, Petty originally said the end of ’05. Then he said the beginning of ’06. Then he said March of ’06. None of this ever happened … so now I’m just saying don’t be surprised if June doesn’t either. The record label has yet to announce the album or provide a release date, so we might be waiting until the beginning of the 22nd century to see this album. Either way … if it does eventually make its way into the consumer’s hands, it’s bound to be a masterful album, and not just because it’s Petty. For one thing, Petty’s two highest selling albums ever were his other two solo efforts. For another thing, he’s working with long time friend and fellow Wilbury Jeff Lynne, and that tag team has proven dynamic enough in the past (*see “Free Fallin” “I Won’t Back Down” “Runnin’ Down a Dream” “Learning to Fly” “Face in the Crowd” “Yer So Bad” and “Into the Great Wide Open”).
As for Petty on tour this summer – while long suspected, it’s been officially confirmed. Though no official dates (beyond Bonnaroo), they will reportedly be touring in June and July and then in September and October (I think those were the months I read, but I’m not going back to check). To celebrate the 30th anniversary of their self-titled debut they will be hitting the road with friends, which will include Pearl Jam, and possibly The Strokes (cool), John Mayer (uggh), and others. They’d better make damn sure they get to Darien Lake again. I’ll catch them in Bonnaroo of course, but I want them on my home turf as well. It’s only fair, after all. I travel 13 hours south to see them once, they travel way up north to see me once.
The Sabres are breaking my heart. Kalinin is a travesty and it’s time to accept that and move on. We really could have used a point man at the trade deadline, but as usual, Regier doesn’t like to do his job. Maybe he doesn’t realize he even has a job, I don’t know.
Did you catch the new South Park? Masterful, as expected. What better way could there have been to write a bitter scientologist out of the cast than to have him molest children, get hit by lightning, fall down a cliff, get stabbed by a tree branch, get shot three or four times by a rifle, have his face pulled off by a lion, and his leg chewed off by a bear? Nicely played, Matt and Trey.
As much as I hate the world of never-ending commercials and advertisement, I am not above shamelessly plugging a product I swear by. You may have noticed, if you read this blog on a regular basis – though I pity you if you do that – that I like to do my fair share of free advertisement for various markets and force it down your trusting gullet. So, in that spirit, here’s a bit of unsolicited marketing on behalf of Buffalo’s favorite alternative newspaper … THE BEAST! Readers of (the profoundly talented keeper of centuries-old wisdom) Fraser’s blog have already seen this plug … but seriously, if you’re not reading this newspaper, get your mug out of your bum and pick up a copy. I have yet to peruse this periodical without finding myself nearly in tears. It’s worth reading for the writing alone, which is bitingly sarcastic, fantastically cynical, and totally hilarious. For instance … one article in the most recent issue was about the boys who were just arrested for starting several churches on fire. Their defense was that it was a joke that got out of hand. The entire article in The Beast was comprised of fake quotes from government, church, and police officials who were tremendously relieved to learn that it was just a joke, and that in light of this it was actually very funny. In response to the boys’ claim that the first couple of fires were set up as a distraction, The Beast imaginatively quotes the chief of police as admitting that they were completely baffled and had even begun to formulate a theory that the fires weren’t fires at all, but earthquakes. Another article about a planned hotel project on Elmwood suddenly referenced the current landlord of the property, saying that the guy “is widely regarded around Buffalo to be a total dick, in addition to having the name of a comic book super-villain” (note: I do not recall the guy’s name, so piss off). The Beast also chastised a letter writer for referring to the mentally handicapped as “retards,” saying that this offensive word had no place in their own vocabulary – they then went on to refer to mentally retarded people as ‘changelings’, and various other oddities, all very entertaining. “What’s your point, Sherry, you wandering, incoherent toad?” Well, only this. Newspapers, weeklies, and periodicals in general can become very repetitive and tedious in their cliché style, strict adherence to journalistic codes, and sweeping generalities without being able to take a position. The Beast is your antidote to this journalistic swamp ass. Seek them out if you live in Buffalo. If you don’t – get yourself a subscription, jerk!
I’m currently looking for a new roommate. If you already know who I am, and you enjoy The White Stripes and Tom Petty constantly being played at extreme volumes, and if you think the Sabres are the most important group of individuals in the known universe, and if you can tolerate a sometimes reclusive, sometimes brash asshole as a roommate, and if you want a two-story living room with a spiral staircase going up to a loft with a pool table (the place is immaculate), and if you want to live a block away from the Elmwood bars, and if you want to constantly be regaled by me about things that I think are totally interesting and brilliant even if you couldn’t care less … or if you know anyone who meets these qualifications … speak up! I have to let the landlord know in the next month if I’m staying.
I will now close with this bit of wordless poetry:
“
.”
Remember that. And be excellent to each other.
A Presto
posted by Il Pazzo @ 2:21 PM
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