It occured to me, watching this movie, that I don't really get into the freak show and pain part of it. Though I'm occasionally amused by that element, it's not my favorite part. The thing about Jackass is that Johnny Knoxville is just a very funny man--the other guys less so but especially Knoxville. The skits are painful but also usually _funny_.
As a contrast, there is my undying hatred of the horrible, horrible show Dirty Sanchez. If you haven't seen it, it's a bunch of Welsh guys beating the shit out of themselves and getting overwhelmingly drunk--like the European knockoff of Jackass. The problem is that they missed the point and it isn't funny at all, just constantly knucklebitingly painful. Horrible show. And Jackass would be the same thing if it wasn't actually genuinely slapstick. Some of the members of Jackass have a genuine talent for absurd slapstick that I find very funny.
And anytime you have a long steady shot of a tiny dollhouse bathroom and then some dude's shit starts dropping into it you've got me at hello.
Yeah, here's what I want to know about the TO situation John Clayton:
Q: What action could the Cowboys take if they believe Owens attempted suicide and they wanted to break their three-year, $25 million contract with him?
A: Those options were pretty much exhausted once they let Owens back on the practice field. Had the Cowboys told him to stay away, they would have had the option of placing him on the non-football injury list, giving them the option of either paying or not paying his salary. They also could have given him a team suspension of four games for conduct detrimental to the team. Those moves would have given the Cowboys the ability to go after $294,000 ($5 million base salary divided by 17 weeks) for each week Owens didn't play. They also would have been able to go after a fraction of his $5 million signing bouns for each week potentially missed. The Patriots asked for and received more than $500,000 of fine money from holdout wide receiver Deion Branch for the days he held out. They also are trying to have Branch repay this year's portion of his original signing bonus because he did not fulfill his contract. That won't happen with Owens. He practiced for a spell Wednesday. If he doesn't play Sunday against the Titans, it will be because his broken finger isn't ready.
Did anyone else catch The Wire last night? That was the best 1 hour of television I have seen in a damn long time. Stephen--tell R. to thank her lucky stars she doesn't teach in the inner city of Baltimore. The final five minutes scared the living shit out of me. Poor Mr. Pryzbylewski. Nothing says, "Hello first day of school!" like one of your 8th grade female students razorblading another student IN THE FACE in retaliation for redireting sunlight glare off her watch and into her eyes. Damn.
This might be revisionist, but I really feel like when we were kids, they'd take you to the waning seconds of close games after your local match ended. And yet, after the Packers outlasted the Lions yesterday afternoon, I got to watch Terry, Howie, Jimmie and New Black Guy Who's Not James Brown, But Is Husky So Maybe No One Will Notice rather than Grossman's TD and the Vikings' last-gasp drive in the final minute.
There used to be hysterics over whether or not pro sports would move to a pay-per-view format, and how that would kill the sport by turning off the youth, etc. Guess what--between blackout rules, Thursday night games on the "NFL Network" later in the season and all the artificial demand this produces for Sunday Ticket on DirecTV, we're already there.
And speaking of sports, remember that ESPN2 is showing Man United vs. Benfica tomorrow and Chelsea vs. Sofia on Wednesday (both at 2:30 Eastern).
One of my favorite recreational past-times is reading the M/M personal ads section of the local craigslist. As long as you're careful not to click on anything labelled [pic], it's pretty entertaining. Econ Lady and I once discovered that a guy from my program--there are only so many gay men in my department, even if it is the People's Republic of Ann Arbor and Political Science--had tried to start a business of selling webcam footage of his dork for $2/minute.
The guy had previously sublet the apartment he shared with another colleague without telling her and started stealing her mail, but I suppose that's a different story.
Anyway, here's the point. There's a 34-year-old guy in the next town over who wants to give head. Very, very badly. He's posts about once every two days, always volunteering to host, and always flexible on scheduling. For instance,
Date: Wed Sep 20 Subj: I'm looking to suck cock tonight and/or tomorrow - 34 (A2 Ypsi) Body: Need a great BJ? I love to give head. Sometimes more. NSA.
Now, taken on its own, this tells a story that's relatively well-adjusted by gay, craigslist standards. He was hanging out, maybe at work, and thought that hey, maybe instead of watching Law and Order reruns, I could go ahead (ha ha!) and suck some dick. And while he was interested in being accessible, he had plans on Friday night so that was right out.
Date: Fri Sep 22 Subj: I'm looking to suck cock today - 34 Body: Need a BJ? I can host. white guys under 40, please. be discreet.
I have discovered the "Fox Soccer Channel," #613. On tap today: Arsenal v. Sheffield United Manchester United v. Reading Aston Villa v. Charlton Athletic
& tomorrow: Atalanta v. Lazio Everton v. Newcastle United
It gets worse. Channel #614 is "GolTV" Today: Bayern Munich v. Alemannia Aachen Livorno v. AC Milan Stuttgart v. Eintracht Frankfurt Real Betis v. Real Madrid Hamburg v. Werder Breman Columbian league--Nacional v. Bucaramanga
& tomorrow: Inter Milan v. Chievo Verona Energie Cottbus v. Nuremburg Villarreal v. Real Zaragoza Brasilian league--Internacional v. Corinthians Columbian league--Tolima v. Millionarios Parma v. Roma
We have re-entered the 21st century. In fact, we've catapulted into it. We're getting the NFL Sunday ticket and all the goodies like HBO and whatnot for at least the first 4 months. It is going to be so sweet. We got a DVR too, which should be useful.
The three things I couldn't stand about having the antenna were a) We only got 3 channels, maybe 4. CBS, ABC, FOX, and WB. The reception was really bad on those that we got. b) The local news broadcasts were just killing me. Reggie O'Key was the bane of my existence. And do I really care about Houston traffic? If I did, wouldn't I be on the road anyway? c) Network TV is god-awful. I tried to watch Gray's Anatomy but I couldn't take the schmaltz. Even the Office doesn't really do it for me. I loved the UK version but the US episodes I've seen just don't tickle my fancy. Sigh.
Anyway, go BEARS! 12 noon Sunday, baby. Vikings, be damned. And no more Houston Texans games to have to sit through. Thank the sweet lord.
This past weekend was what I had been looking forward to for quite some time, the annual Austin City Limits festival in Austin, TX. Last year I had stumbled in on the final day after being evacuated from Galveston due to Hurricane Rita. Unfortunately, that Sunday the high temperature was also 117 degrees. Needless to say, I didn't stay too long in 2005, though I did catch an unbelievable performance by The Arcade Fire and Chi-town’s own Wilco tore it up as well.
This year I was lucky enough to have my buddy come down from D.C. and we were well stocked and prepared. This basically meant 2 water bottles apiece, some sunscreen, clandestined beef jerky (homemade!), lawn chairs, and other goodies you might take to a music fest. The weather was absolutely fantastic (for Texas in September, that is). Sat. and Sun. were downright balmy, barely cracking the 90s and overcast both days. Friday was hot, but not dutch-oven hot.
Highlights:
Wolf Parade ripped through a tight set despite being short a guitarist, who apparently was sick at home in Canada from eating something the last time he was in the States. Spinach, anyone? I was looking forward to seeing them and they did not disappoint.
The Shins played tight, Albuquerquian pop that made everyone smile, though their keyboardist seemed much more reserved than in past shows.
The New Pornographers kicked their power pop into high gear, providing a quality set. Sound problems abounded, however, as evidenced by Neko Case offering "a blowjob for a little bit of reverb in [my] earpiece." A.C. Newman also made also referred to NAFTA as, “Something only Mexicans and Canadians know about, and it’s just so that America can fuck us.”
Ben Harper & The Innocent Criminals and Damian "Junior Gong" Marley played a spirited rendition of 'Get Up, Stand Up' for their closer. Harper also rocked a sweet opening cover of "Voodoo Child." Not a huge fan going in as I always equated him with the Jam Band subset, but he transcended that categorization. At several points during the Harper set, one extremely jubilant/inebriated/heat exhausted M. McConaughey was shown on screen, sequestered in the middle aisle, jumping around like a monkey in rapture.
Thievery Corporation also killed it. I wasn't familiar with them going in but am a big fan now. Nothing like a sitarist, 2 turntables, a slew of Rastafarians, a bellydancer, and some sultry female vocals to get the crowd going.
Jose Gonzalez played an intense yet mellow set and was very impressive. Loved his cover of ‘Teardrop.’
Ween were fun and it was nice to see them live. ‘Piss Up a Rope’ was appreciated.
And the highlight for me was definitely Massive Attack. They were incredible, even missing Daddy G, who apparently flew home to be with his new baby boy. Horace Andy was there as was Elizabeth Fraser. The stage lights were fantastic, and the set was heavily weighted towards their Mezzanine material. I had extremely high expectations and they managed to exceed them. Ironic to note that the ONLY groups to have any political banter were from either Canada or England. Nothing like a culture of fear and repression to keep the Rock inoffensive! Willie Nelson probably had a few jibes, but we missed him (though apparently the Lousiana po-po didn’t!)
I also should add that I caught Oliver Mtukudzi at the Threadgill’s aftershow. So much fun. A really nice outdoor venue that was intimate and friendly. Most of the audience danced the night away, which I did as well until my back wouldn’t let me do anymore. It was pretty sweet though, you could stand about 5 feet from Tuku as he played. We also had some dinner before the show and sat next to the band as they ate. Funny to see that the dudes all had boneless steak and chips for dinner and some of the women had sadza (stiff porridge). There were plenty of Zimbabweans there as well. Also present was a plethora of absolutely HORRIBLE white-man dancing to the African beat and the requisite hippie contingent. Included in the hippie contingent was the ridiculous hula-hoop girl, whose ending comment, “Well, you know, I love ALL music” almost caused me to force-feed her a bottle of shitty patchouli oil.
Disappointments:
Not really too many. I'm not a huge Gnarls Barkley fan and I thought they were a little lackluster, though the lab coats were a nice touch. I’ve enjoyed the little of TV on the Radio that I've heard but they didn't do much for me.
Shuttles, food, beer, misting stations, water, parking, and good vibes were in abundance. Next year though, I'm bringing the lawn chairs and lounging all weekend. Another trick we learned--pick who you are going to see based on stage proximity...Saturday we stayed on one end of ZilkerPark and Sunday the other. Much more pleasant and feasible than having to constantly trek back and forth (i.e., Friday). Sure, you miss some good shows, but over the course of three days it all comes out in the wash.
Oh--and quote of the festival (as heard by my friend Colin)? "Hey! It's that one song by that one guy!"
Rather than recap the Bears' big win over Detroit--which was awesome--I want to remind everyone to check in at Chad's Corner after every Bengals game this season.
I'm not as politically involved as I probably should be, being (for the time being, anyway) a doctoral student in Political Science, but I do try to stay informed.
On reflection, if you had one chip to cash in, which Congressional race would you want to fix? In other words, who do you hate the most out of the crowded field running this November? In my case, I'm torn between Joe Lieberman, a sanctimonious prick who hangs out with the likes of Ralph Reed and Bill Bennett, and Rick Santorum, a sanctimonious prick who brought home a miscarriage-d fetus to snuggle with his family.
You'd think that'd be a no-brainer, but I really hate Joe Lieberman. AndI've held this view for a long time--no Johnny Come Lately blogtards here, nosiree.
My dad sent me this YouTube. Honestly, when people were talking about patriotism on 9/11 five years later, all I could feel was that we have created a horrible mess out of everything. It's so wrong, my brain hurts just thinking about it.
Dayumn. What the heck happened to her eye here? Anyway, who really wants to know about some redneck skater who bashed the axel out of Kerrigan back in the day? Unfortunately, she has her own website. As, I've found out, do a few on this list, including the next one.
4. Screech Don't get me wrong--Saved By the Bell was in turns campy and god-awful. But jeez-louise, do we really have to know about Dustin Diamond's foreclosure woes? I'm happy to know that he only has a few bricks sold in his "buy-a-brick" scheme, one of them being for the complete offensive-sounding "tardcore.com." Ugh.
3. Andy Dick
*shudder*
2. Bez Sort of the dancer-cum-wandering apothecary-cum-spiritual guru of the Happy Mondays, I'm sure he was a good time but I just can't really fathom any sort of interactions with the chap now. Rumored to be on the tried and true "25 ecstacy pills-a-day" diet.
It's like, sometimes shit happens and you know that it's never going to get solved and it's going to be a nightmare scenario trying to get it fixed. It happens with stuff with the university all the time.
Something like that just happened to me. Backing the truck up a little, at my apartment building it is written into the lease that the lessor pays for the "classic cable" bill for us. That's about 45 bucks a month or so. We pay for internet, etc. It has worked fine and been paid for. But then like 5 months ago the guy that owned our building sold it to a bigger landlord group. There have been good benefits of this--people come over and fix stuff in a reasonable time and there are generally people available to pick up the phone, etc.
But you know that there's no way that this cable bill thing has gone over smoothly and they haven't picked the bill up nor do they even know, in all likelihood, about the agreement. I just recieved my like ~90 dollar bill and I was like here we fucking go. And you also know that it'll take them ~9 months to get the problem fixed. I feel like there's going to be no other end to this than me being forced to wave my lease in front of them, threaten them at the tenant union and go through a huge pain in the ass thing with them--all the while the bill continues to charge in *my* fucking name and I have to either pay the absurd bill that inevitably comes with cable and internet.
So I guess it's time to dig and prepare for war. But I really don't want to.
It's true. My big personal expense over the last year was a Nintendo DS that I never even brought myself to purchase--instead, my girlfriend felt pity for me and got me a free one by filling out some gift certificate and credit card applications online. I keep my head down, drive a shitty car and, in general, avoid extravagance.
Sometimes, though, you want to break free of that "I'm a broke-ass student" mindset. Paying upwards of 60 bucks on a pair of goalkeeping gloves is one of those times.
There are all sorts of ways to rationalize this. One is that I have rather large hands, and not many stores will carry something in a size 11. Two is that the gloves I have now, that I bought for $30 or so 3 1/2 years ago, are falling apart and need to be replaced anyway. Three is that if I ever get around to returning that Foreman grill like I've been meaning to, this would only "really" cost $40. Four is that expensive gloves now have little plastic things on the back of the hand that keep your fingers from bending in a way that they'd break.
And so on and so on. Will I cave in? Only time can tell.
(The sequel to this post will be titled "selective sampling and using the Internets to affirm a decision that's already been made.")
Someone on a message board cited the following quote to eulogize Steve "Crocodile Hunter" Irwin, who died Sunday after being stabbed through the heart by a stingray. I thought it was extremely apt, especially since it was not at all written for the event.
Raoul Duke: There he goes, one of God's own prototypes. Some kind of high-powered mutant, never even considered for mass production. Too weird to live, and too rare to die.
