ZooK
Timmy's never needed a Martimmy more.
Has anyone seen this Passions show? Ryan made me watch it a few weeks ago and now I'm strangely attracted to it...bad acting, hot dudes and ladies, a 17 year old dwarf who spends most of his time as a wooden doll and speaks in third person***1***, and some absolutely hokey special effects***2*** equals a show that you can't stand watching but somehow there you are, yer pants unbuttoned and yer shirt off cuz its humid enough to bend a spoon***3*** and the stereo playing old mixtapes, cuz someone hasn't made you one yet***4***, from the other room which is now as clean as it has been since you moved in to this house, which means at least 15 years now. And you feel old and creaky and hot and there is air somewhere here but not anywhere you can find.
Anyway.
Marcie: I stopped by yer new place on Sunday and Monday and yer car wasn't there...what gives? And please please please don't ever make me break into a waterpark at 3 a.m. I hear there are raccoons living in the pool.
And to prove that I am not, nor have ever been a "music nazi"***5***, here are the last five songs that played on the mixtape in my stereo: "Factory Belt" by Uncle Tupelo; "A Band called bud" by blue mountain; "down in flames" by semisonic***6***; "Huck" by Thirty ought six; and "Songs about girls" by Catherine. And maybe, just maybe, there was a Wallflowers song on there. Maybe. The tape was made for an excursion to Wisconsin during my Junior year of high school. I was an outdoor Education councellor***7*** at this fabulous place where I got to camp inside a log cabin with showers and electricity and a bed and then sit around all day while my kids learned about the land and shit. That Caaaa-bin wuz wicked haaaaad-caw.
And is anyone else freaked out by the email on the front page of Blogger? I mean, yeah, I've met and made some friends from this BLARG, but I'm not sure I would fly to Europe to attend one of yer birthday parties and then duplicate the process multiple times...
***1***See the quote of the BLARG, top of post.
***2***To simulate hell, they actually had the actors work in front of a blue screen which was then filled in with an oddly Fireplace-looking fire. Hokey with a capital Ho.
***3***Remember there's an element of fiction to every sad, sad, sad truth.
***4***Jennifer.
***5***Here, I'm talking to anyone who has either said this to my face or behind my back.
***6***I had a conversation about this band with someone at the last Hey mercedes show. We agreed that these guys write fucking great radio songs but have forever been pigeonholed (with Sponge, Third Eye Blind, and that "tell me all your thoughts on god" band...Dishwalla) as "sell-outs" and "puss-rockers" because of that horrible awful God-why? song, "Closing Time". The person I talked to even liked that song, which is a stretch. His Lady Friend had some interesting stories about working the phones at a radio station in Chi-town (101.9 f.m.) that plays these types of bands.
***7***The hilarity of a self-proclaimed outdoors hater councelling kids on the outdoors is not lost on me.
In the stereo: Creeper lagoon I become small and go
Timmy's never needed a Martimmy more.
Has anyone seen this Passions show? Ryan made me watch it a few weeks ago and now I'm strangely attracted to it...bad acting, hot dudes and ladies, a 17 year old dwarf who spends most of his time as a wooden doll and speaks in third person***1***, and some absolutely hokey special effects***2*** equals a show that you can't stand watching but somehow there you are, yer pants unbuttoned and yer shirt off cuz its humid enough to bend a spoon***3*** and the stereo playing old mixtapes, cuz someone hasn't made you one yet***4***, from the other room which is now as clean as it has been since you moved in to this house, which means at least 15 years now. And you feel old and creaky and hot and there is air somewhere here but not anywhere you can find.
Anyway.
Marcie: I stopped by yer new place on Sunday and Monday and yer car wasn't there...what gives? And please please please don't ever make me break into a waterpark at 3 a.m. I hear there are raccoons living in the pool.
And to prove that I am not, nor have ever been a "music nazi"***5***, here are the last five songs that played on the mixtape in my stereo: "Factory Belt" by Uncle Tupelo; "A Band called bud" by blue mountain; "down in flames" by semisonic***6***; "Huck" by Thirty ought six; and "Songs about girls" by Catherine. And maybe, just maybe, there was a Wallflowers song on there. Maybe. The tape was made for an excursion to Wisconsin during my Junior year of high school. I was an outdoor Education councellor***7*** at this fabulous place where I got to camp inside a log cabin with showers and electricity and a bed and then sit around all day while my kids learned about the land and shit. That Caaaa-bin wuz wicked haaaaad-caw.
And is anyone else freaked out by the email on the front page of Blogger? I mean, yeah, I've met and made some friends from this BLARG, but I'm not sure I would fly to Europe to attend one of yer birthday parties and then duplicate the process multiple times...
***1***See the quote of the BLARG, top of post.
***2***To simulate hell, they actually had the actors work in front of a blue screen which was then filled in with an oddly Fireplace-looking fire. Hokey with a capital Ho.
***3***Remember there's an element of fiction to every sad, sad, sad truth.
***4***Jennifer.
***5***Here, I'm talking to anyone who has either said this to my face or behind my back.
***6***I had a conversation about this band with someone at the last Hey mercedes show. We agreed that these guys write fucking great radio songs but have forever been pigeonholed (with Sponge, Third Eye Blind, and that "tell me all your thoughts on god" band...Dishwalla) as "sell-outs" and "puss-rockers" because of that horrible awful God-why? song, "Closing Time". The person I talked to even liked that song, which is a stretch. His Lady Friend had some interesting stories about working the phones at a radio station in Chi-town (101.9 f.m.) that plays these types of bands.
***7***The hilarity of a self-proclaimed outdoors hater councelling kids on the outdoors is not lost on me.
In the stereo: Creeper lagoon I become small and go
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home