A question has been eating away at me for months now- I knew that John McCain sold his soul to the devil all those years ago in a vietnamese P.O.W. camp, vowing revenge on his captors, that was fairly obvious. What I couldn't figure out was where the hell the devil was hanging out these days?
After receiving this delightful picture courtesy of Gullo over at SofaJockey.com it hit me like a cupcake to the face. Just LOOK at her all decked out in red! All this talk about "transparency" and she refuses to allow her own press corps to cover her- it's because she doesn't want anyone to see her for what she really is! Sarah Palin is the fucking devil!
And the only way to destroy the devil is to pummel her with the purest of weapons: vanilla/vanilla cupcakes. SO, throw them at will, good people of Earth! Watch as her skin bubbles and smokes. Listen as she shrieks with the pain of double vanilla cupcakey doom! Then and only then can we rest easy, for the devil will either die, develop diabetes (eventually), or retreat to Alaska, where "coincidentally"- the temperature has been steadily rising ever since Sarah Palin was appointed to public office*. However, if John McCain is elected President, say goodbye the Hand-Puppet, cuz the Devil's a heartbeat away from running the United States (you thought W was bad?).
erika and i blew off work early on a tuesday night in july and headed across the border to catch a rock show in jersey. i am retarded and couldn't find any info on the concert as far as what time the show started and if there were any opening acts. this resulted in a shortened pregame in the parking complex and us stumbling into the arena just in time for the first of 2 opening bands. who saw that coming?
year long disaster was pretty okay, it took me a few minutes to get in the mindset of a "rock show". for some reason this one just struck me in a different way than the rock shows i typically find myself at. this was straight up easy-to-digest mainstream arena rock n' roll. it was kinda cool. after a month i can't recall many details about year long disaster, but i have in my notes: great white / soundgarden / southern rock. also, i really wished their drummer would have worn a shirt.
we were good little consumers and bought some beer, water, and pretzels. tempting as it was, i decided against a bacardi silver raz malt liquor. it's one of my few regrets from the night.
supergrass- well, at least i'd heard of them. they were pretty good and put on a good show. my notes say: rush / elvis costello / crowded house / pink floyd / u2. oh, also we decided that supergrass was a cool name for a band ("dude... you know what a cool name for a band would be? ... supergrass.").
foo fighters. well, it's the foo fighters! the foo fighters are just awesome, aren't they? yes. they are bonafide rockstars now and dave grohl is a bonafide frontman- complete with spastic sprints and rockstar poses- good stuff. the stage design was cool, with 4 giant screens constantly shifting position and flashing images of the band and some album artwork/music video footage. i'm not a huge fan of the music video footage behind a band while they are playing live. i think it reinforces said music video into the live music experience where they should usually be kept separate. specifically- i don't need to see the video for 'the pretender' and animated riot police on the big screens- that song is such a balls out angry protest song- let it stand on it's own for fuck's sake! let's ROCK OUT to the performance! but big fat 'WHUT EVS', right?
the first half of the set was set up at the opposite end of the arena to rock shit out. then about halfway through, a small circular stage descended from the ceiling and they did a more acoustical chunk of the set before heading back to the opposite end of the arena. for a mainstream arena rock act, they played a long set, which i totally appreciate.
it was the last show of the tour so dave was a wild man, drunk as fuck, screaming the shit out of his voice, telling some great stories and using the word "fucking" even more than i fucking do, which is fucking saying something. there was a particularly funny story, but i don't remember it, so forget i fucking mentioned anything.
i DO remember that sometime during the foo fighters, i caught a whiff of two distinct smells but both at once, turned to erika and said, "i smell... ketchup... and weed." ? so she looked around, pointed at the guy in front of us eating french fries, "ketchup!" and looked around again, pointed across the aisle from us where a plume of smoke was rising, "weed!" gave myself a nice pat on the back for that one- nose like a hound dog!
as far as people watching goes, this place was top notch. the worst faux-hawk i've ever seen was worn by a 16 year old with a full head of hair but the long mohawk hair much longer and dyed blue- a modern day mullet. a 15 year old sneezed on the back of my arm while i was walking back to the car, it was an unfortunate event. i sped up my pace and doused my arm in baby-wipes to try and rid myself of the disease. oh and there was a 16 year old future stripper wearing a bra and micro mini with a face full of makeup yelling at people for looking at her- ahhhh, jersey.
again, kickass, but over a month ago, so you're not gonna get many more details from me other than i fucking loved the foo fighters live and would definitely see them again. foo fighters, & co., 7/29/08, brendan byrne arena, rutherford, nj: 8.5 HUZZAHS!
some would say i've been "slacking" others might use the term "working", either way i've fallen way behind on the bloggy stuff. since my next gig starts in another week or two, i am determined to catch up. currently, i owe: 7 foodbaby posts, 3 music reviews, and have started a real "think-piece" on rvp nominee sarah "nanny 911" palin. so, in the words of the great dana monteith, "let's get down to it."
once again here is your DISCLAIMER: if you're just tuning in now, these are more entries in a series entitled, "gestation of a foodbaby" which follows the development of a fetus that is temporarily living in my friend's body (NOT MINE). please refer to the original entry for the full story.
22 weeks / spaghetti squash while i much prefer the hearty acorn squash, i have enjoyed many a spaghetti squash in my day. generally, you can't go wrong with a roasted squash on a cold autumn night. what's great about most squashes is that their preparation doesn't really vary too much. halve the thing, throw a tablespoon (or more) of organic butter, a scoop of light brown sugar, and a drizzle of maple syrup into the hollowed cavity- throw it in the oven and roast that baby (pun intended) for about an hour at 425'. magnifico!
the real difference spaghetti squash has over other squashes is that its insides don't mush up into a paste- it separates out into thin "spaghetti"-like strands that you can twirl on a fork and shovel into your mouth (be careful not to burn yourself). spaghetti squash isn't as sweet as acorn squash and so there are plenty of recipes out there to add some variety to your squash meal.
23 weeks / mango while i enjoy fresh mangos, i'm not a fan of mango-flavored things, like candy or sorbets or that kind of stuff. is that strange? NO!
in most latin neighborhoods in nyc you can find the beautiful and tempting street "mango-on-a-stick" sold at sidewalk stands. typically you can smell the source of these fanciful summertime treats ("nature's candy" if you will) well before you see them. follow your nose (if you can get past the august-y smell of hot urine and mcdonalds)!
24 weeks / ear of corn fresh corn is yummy. i like grilling mine still in the husk on the bbq- a couple of minutes on each side and it's fucking perfect! one of my favorite breakfast treats has become the amy's bread corn muffin. it's more like a slightly sweet cornbread than a typical corn muffin, with the texture of the cornmeal and fresh kernels baked right into each little paper cup. holy fuck they're good.
25 weeks / a rutabaga rutabaga isn't usually one of those vegetables you use to compare the size of things against ("it's about the size of... a rutabaga?"), which makes this fetal growth week laughable. seriously, though... when was the last time you had rutabaga? i can't recall my last encounter either. what i DO remember is the swedish chef used to have a breakfast cereal called "croonchy stars", they were slightly cinnamon-y, star shaped puffy croonchy goodness (not gross like cinnamon toast crunch). i loved those things. anyways, on the actual box of cereal (i can't find a pic, sorry) were fun games: one of which was to count how many times the word "rutabaga" appeared on the box (and that one didn't count). i vaguely remember on the ingredients list the reassuring words every child wants to read about their beloved breakfast cereal: absolutely no rutabagas.
26 weeks / english hothouse cucumber an english hothouse cucumber? you know what? no. fuck you and your hothouse cucumbers, england. here in america we grow our own, OUTDOORS, and they don't come shrink wrapped in plastic with smug looks on their faces (also, they have flavor). here's a plain old wonderful garden cuke from this summer, consider this artistic freedom.
27 weeks / cauliflower omg i fucking love cauliflower. i could eat whole freakin' heads of the damn stuff. it's good. it's great. it's cauliflower! it's amazing for veggie dip appetizers but it's even better as aloo gobi (gobhi?)- one of mine (and the foodbaby mama's) favorite indian dishes! it's a spiced mixture of cauliflower, potatoes, and if you're lucky, green peas. lots of spices, layers of flavors, stewtastical, hours of flavor. YUM. (i'll bet the babymama is reading this right now getting upset because she is now craving aloo gobhi- SUCKA!).
28 weeks / napa cabbage i don't really consider cabbage a part of my everyday diet, but i DO like purple (red) cabbage (and put it in my salads) more than regular green cabbage (which i can enjoy in cole slaw). i wasn't sure if i'd ever had napa cabbage, but i looked it up and other names for it are 'chinese cabbage' and 'bok choy'. bok choy is yummy when prepared correctly. though i usually end up leaving the majority of it over in favor of other "real" vegetables (if i've offended you bok choy fans- good). one of the awful little tidbits of knowledge i picked up from researching at vh1 was cabbage-related and that is: sarah michelle gellar occasionally subscribes to the cabbage soup diet- which is she boils cabbage and water (she probably pays someone to do this for her), and subsides on that for long periods of time in order to lose weight and/or stay thin. cabbage soup for long stretches of time will leave your body malnourished and thusly, you'd probably be in a pretty bad mood- couple that with the fact that you stink like cabbage and can't stop offending the people around you with your bodily functions... i'll bet sarah michelle gellar's a real peach to be around. i would like to again mention my friend (the foodbabymama) enjoys these foodbaby posts immensely, even as dark as some of them have gotten- but when she started forwarding me actual recipes to cook with the placenta- it was my turn to get pretty grossed out. this is no joke- people eat that shit. so while a placenta lasagna or bolognese sauce might sound gross to any "normal" human being, perhaps this week two worlds collide as i recommend combining placenta and napa cabbage to create some good ol' fashioned placenta stuffed 28 week old fetus cabbage. who needs corned beef? in the words of the rabid rachel ray, "EAT THE WEAK!"
i'm disgusted, ashamed, heartbroken, and altogether uninterested.
tonight, the yankees officially ruined baseball. this roster and season are a disgrace to legends past and the ghosts of yankee stadium.
after a season of spiritless ball playing, tonight's apex hit me like bobby abreu hitting a wall- slowly and cautiously before falling over and whining like a little fucking bitch. for it was at that exact moment i finally gave up on the 2008 yankees and turned on 'project runway'. the new york yankees do not deserve to win a game let alone a pennant race, wild card, or series title. they're fucking awful.
at what point in the professional career of a baseball player do you stop doing your best? busting your ass? hustling? at least eric byrnes went down fighting. all it took was 2 heinous muscular women and arod's game was done. never did i think i'd say they should have traded melky and kennedy for johan, but they should have traded melky and kennedy for johan.
i've tried to wrap my brain around it a million times (at least a million). was it the loss of joe torre? is arod's tabloid drama locker room poison? it's easy to blame injuries: posada, jeter, arod, joba, hughes, wang- all down for part or all of the season. for a while i had convinced myself that it was the curse of yankee stadium. the realization that the mystique- the very heart & soul of the team was mortal. the boys in pinstripes no longer had yankee stadium on their side and the prospect of moving across the street was draining their souls- everything they'd been taught to believe in. but perhaps it's not that at all. perhaps it's much more simple: too much partying, padded paychecks, and a team full of individual egos with no drive.
you don't need a golden thong, a mustache, or a ford commercial to play baseball. you need the soul of a child* or a warrior- one who wants it badly enough... the yankees don't want it at all.
7/19/08, siren music festival (stephen malkmus & the jicks), coney island, ny
"are you going to come to the siren festival?" "no." "why?" "because i hate people." "i hate people too... but i love stephen malkmus!"
that was a conversation i had with my friend chris the thursday before caroline and i decided to hit the siren festival in coney island 3 saturdays ago (i've been busy).
i should have listened to chris. or maybe not, i'm still on the fence as to whether or not this was a good idea. new york city was in the throes of an awful heat-wave (still is) so the fact that we were "going to the beach" on a saturday afternoon was pretty sketchy. but stephen malkmus & the jicks! my two issues with stephen malkmus & the jicks are 1) why the hell am i on their mailing list if they don't email to tell me their tour dates and when tickets will go on sale? why must i always find out the day after they've gone on sale and sold out? why am i learning from the bowery ballroom's newsletter as opposed to the band themselves? IT MAKES NO SENSE. and 2) he plays for barely 1 1/2 hours and then he's *DONE*. why not longer??? EVER? unless stephen malkmus ALSO hates people- oh wait, he DOES... that explains everything.
anyways. i got lost driving in brooklyn. the prospect park expressway was CLOSED. i had written alternate directions in case of a parade or marathon or something like the prospect park expressway being CLOSED. what a mess. driving around like a retard for 45 minutes. just an observation: caroline's block smells like pee, but only when you first walk up it. once you get to the houses it kind of dilutes into the atmosphere. her roommate made us all some funky limonata gin & juice that HIT THE SPOT. then we headed out the door to the subway. the ride was quick and painless. when we turned the corner in coney island it was a bustling hub of beach & concert goers. we spotted the stages and hopped out of the train.
this is when it began. the awful-- i mean.... tens of thousands of people everywhere, i'm sure less than 5% of them were there for the concert. EVERYWHERE. like they just scurried to the beach. aaagh. okay, breathe... we found some schedules and then a taco place that time out new york had deemed a "hidden gem". awesome tacos!
it was around this time we noticed people walking around with giant plastic mugs for "daquiris". we wondered if they had any alcohol content at all, since these vendors offered free refills and no one seemed to be getting carded (the answer is 'no', it was a scam, so bring your own tequila if you go). we tried to walk to the main stage but ended up wedged into the corner with the wonder wheel entrance, so we went around to the boardwalk to walk around and ended up in a feed lot of tightly packed music fans. a couple of thousand people wedged between the cyclone and astroland...
it was not a fun experience especially since i'm a hallway at concerts-- and by chance so is caroline. so what happens when we stand near each other is undeniably a sign that neither of us are making this up.
here's the thing, the sound was so unbelievably bad and we could barely distinguish the live band from the jennifer lopez sirens blaring out of the bumper cars PA--- what i'm saying is i have no idea what bands were playing and when. so this isn't going to as much of a music review as it is a yarn about one horribly sweaty day in coney island*.
we found some beer for caroline, went to watch people shoot the freak, and then got some italian ices- when who should i run into but editor/mensch mr. barney schmidt himself! finally got to meet his fiance milena and they are totally adorable. AWW. then we went people watching and ended up wandering directly behind the stage- where we heard the music perfectly- and then around the bend and over the pedestrian walkway on the other side of the aquarium- where the sound was ALSO great. plus, it was shady... and there was great people watching. lots of people were walking around with churros and all kinds of foreign treats. at that moment in time, i believe coney island was the most diverse spot on the planet (when you include all the white kids there for the music festival). i did in fact see a family of pygmies.
when it came time for stephen malkmus & the jicks to hit the stage we walked back over to the "main stage" and braved the port-a-potties in the shadows of the cyclone. at this point i would like to pause and thank moe.down for consistently cleaning the por-a-potties on a strict schedule over the long moe.down weekend... especially considering the state of these siren music festival port-a-potties about 6 hours into the festival. no excuse for that.
then we did some people watching, which will be represented by this video here taken from the curbside next to the "virgin megastore tent". for shame. this video represents the depressing** state of being at the siren music festival at a heat stroke inducing coney island.
anywhoosits, when malkmus hit the stage we agreed that the best place to see the show was in back of the massive crowd because it was such a clusterfuck everywhere else. we attempted to move up away from the blaring speakers set up halfway back. we got in front of the PA and the music from the speakers in back of us was so loud, we couldn't hear the stage- except for the drummer- whom we heard perfectly clearly, and was out of sync with the speakers behind us. marty or moe.'s sound guy would have had that shit mixed CLEAN. for shame village voice "music festival". for shame.
since we couldn't see the stage anyways, we decided to go back where we knew the sound was good. we cross the street, climbed the stairs to the pedestrian walk way and went back to the boardwalk, where we stood directly in back of the stage in the sweet spot. while the volume was low-ish, it was mixed properly... and the people watching couldn't be beat. we had a nice conversation about what makes us pavement/malkmus fans. stephen's music swirls around and explores very dark places, it tangles with them, but it always resolves itself. the lyrics are nonsensical taboot. it's a lovely marriage of genius and madness. well done. i do miss pavement though. sigh.
caroline got hassled by cops for drinking beer on the boardwalk, even though she BOUGHT the beer on the boardwalk, from the place about 20 feet away who's sign we were standing near. eventually we made our way back up the path way and towards the subway station where we listened to the last few songs. they ended with a rousing version of eddie money's "two tickets to paradise" and we thought we were all clever and would get on the first train back but we were standing on the wrong platform (we're smart like that) and realized it about 30 seconds after the correct train left. oh hippies, won't we ever learn?
when i got back to my car near prospect park there was a sketchy white cargo van with curtains (you know the kind they make PSA's about?) doubled parked next to me. the nice locals playing dominoes on the stoop didn't know who's it was, so i banged on the van a bunch (half expecting a pedophile with a sawed off shotgun to bust out), walked it off and by the time i got back some big dominican was running towards the van with keys apologizing. then i got stuck in traffic for 45 minutes. i am never going back to brooklyn.
okay, i gotta say, 7/19/08 village voice siren music festival featuring acts like ra ra riot, times new viking, and the incomparable stephen malkmus & the jicks... 3.5 HUZZAHS. you really did suck. i had fun hanging out with my friend, but its hard to enjoy new bands (or the ones you came to see) when you can't even hear them, so top notch job on the sound and organizational aspects of a music festival, dipshits. it'll take more than a few tacos doused in hot sauce in an alleyway to get me back to coney island ever again.
* the last horribly sweaty day i spent in coney island, i nearly puked after going on the tilt-o-whirl. [note to possible suitors- do not take me on the tilt-o-whirl] ** for the dude who left a comment on the youtube page this is posted at: go fuck yourself, novice- this festival pretty much blew and for the record, i don't listen to douchebags in eyeliner.
