Stupid Sexy Flanders

Yikes.  I haven’t blogged in a week again.  It’s been so long, WordPress actually changed their interface to a different setup, and I didn’t even know about it until I logged in to write this.  Sorry.  So…let’s do the random thing again.  I miss writing stand-alone posts…but if this is the frequency with which I’m writing, “random” seems best.

  1. So Davy Jones died.  That actually kinda bummed me out.  I mean, I know it’s not like The Monkees were high-comedy or had brilliant, earth moving songs (or wait…was it?)…but I liked them and I liked Davy Jones.  (And I stand by his solo hit “Girl” as being a really good pop-song.)  True story, back in the days when the band with my brother was called Uncle Dick and had a punk-edge, we covered the Sex Pistols’ “Bodies.”  Every time we played it live, before we kicked into the song, we had “Singalong with Wayne” time, where I would lead those willing to sing in a chorus of “Daydream Believer.”  (Oh, and they called me Wayne, back then.  But that’s a different story.)  Now…mostly we just liked the “daydream believer and a homecoming queen” line going straight into “She was a girl from Birmingham, she just had an abortion.”  Made us laugh…  But there was more going on there.  The Monkees were a band manufactured by the industry to be a hit-machine.  The Sex Pistols were debatably similarly founded (though Johnny Lydon/Rotten denies it—thereby confirming it), but with the idea of rebellion.  So I put the two together, and we all got a laugh.  And I got to sing a Monkees song.  So…anyway…rest in peace, Davy.
  2. Worked on the new record a little bit.  Doing some test mixes of the stuff I’ve done so far, with temporary drum tracks that I’m building with my keyboard.  I like a lot of what I’ve got quite a bit.  It’s different territory for me.  I’m leaning less on my strengths and comforts as a writer and player, and I’m letting the material dictate what I record.  Sometimes a lyric has suggested a completely different approach than what I would typically give a song (solo or otherwise) and I’m doing stuff I wouldn’t have expected out of me.  It’s a fun process.  Hopefully it sounds as good in the mix as it does in my head.
  3. Also moving forward with Two Hangmen.  No real news to report, I’m afraid.  We got together last week and rehearsed, and it was kind of sloppy.  I was definitely having an off night, and I know my brother was exhausted that night.  But I still think we can manage to sound pretty good, when we’re firing on all (or most) cylinders.
  4. Considering getting a partner and conquering the Pointer’s Pointersaurus Challenge.  I’ve seen the pizza.  We ordered it for a staff meeting one day to feed 7 people.  It is not that intimidating in person.  And it tasted pretty good.  I don’t think I ate half of it that day, but I wouldn’t be shocked if I had a fourth or a third…and I could’ve done more, but I was being polite.  All I ask of the place it to allow me to enter the room to the song “The Final Countdown.”
  5. Serious note.  (Sorry in advance, but you all know where I stand by now.)  A number of years ago, I caught some shit from a couple of people for referring to Rush Limbaugh as a “fat, deaf, drug-addled piece of crap” and later adding on “racist and sexist” as well.  Now, admittedly, it’s not very nice to call someone a “piece of crap,” but I’ve always been operating under the impression and assertion that all the rest were just pronouns.  Sometimes my feelings about the guy make people mad, and I get that.  Once in a while I even feel bad about how frequently I run him down (though it’s been some time on the blog—because, really, why bother?).  But then he says this about a female student who says she would like contraception to be included in her health insurance: “What does it say about the college co-ed Susan Fluke who goes before a congressional committee and essentially says that she must be paid to have sex—what does that make her? It makes her a slut, right? It makes her a prostitute.”  (sic)  Later he went on to say he would be happy to “buy the women at Georgetown University all the aspirin they want to put in between their knees.” (sic)  Then he said, “If we are going to pay for your contraceptives and thus pay for you to have sex, we want something. We want you to post the videos online so we can all watch.”  (sic)  Thanks for making me feel okay about myself again Rush.  Although I wish I was a big enough person to not let your cowardly bullshit get under my skin—and I don’t believe your sponsor-appeasing “apology” for a second.  With apologies to my Conservative friends, especially if you’re fans of his—because you certainly deserve a better representative.
  6. Hung out with some friends at a donut shop earlier in the week.  Wasn’t feeling that well most of that day, because the night before I’d accidentally eaten an egg on a sandwich (short-version, it was a sausage biscuit, and I thought it only had cheese until I was half-way through)…but a chocolate long john and a custard-filled later, and it was a good night.  Man I could go for a donut right about now…
  7. Putting in a kitchen light this week.  Well…my friend Dave is, anyway.  Dave went up in the attic and cut a hole for the new light and put a board over the old hole.  While he was up there, he found a bunch of old wire spools.  They were the kind of spools you put elevator cable on (not standard wire).  No idea why they were up there, but they’re kind of cool.  Trying to figure out something to do with them.  Not in college anymore, so they can’t serve as an end-table…and that’s my only idea so far.
  8. I almost yelled at a guy for wearing shorts today (it was about 40-degrees in St. Louis).  There’s no real story here.  I just irrationally hate the guy.
  9. Quick summary of Ricky Gervais’ Twitter page: “God isn’t real.  No He’s not.  You’re mad. Watch An Idiot Abroad. God isn’t real.  God isn’t real.  Where did God come from if He’s real?  Are ALL God’s real?  Watch Life’s Too Short.  I was on Family Guy recently.  God isn’t real.  God isn’t real.  God isn’t real.  Animal cruelty is a bad thing.  God isn’t real.  Twonks.  God isn’t real.  Seriously, I have a cat, so stop hurting animals.  God isn’t real.  God isn’t real.  Karl.  God isn’t real.  Animals are better than people.  God isn’t an animal.  God isn’t real.”  That’s pretty much it.
  10. Had a pretty loud hail storm here on Friday morning.  It was kind of scary sounding, but it wasn’t time to get up yet, so I rolled over.  I’ve got a chest of drawers by the window, between the bed and the wall, so I just kind of scrunched up enough that if the window shattered, it’d only cut my feet, then I went back to sleep for a while.  It blew over, and I don’t think there were any serious damages in the area.  The same storm system killed people in at least three other states.  Humbling.  My feet were in serious danger.
  11. Just one more full week of work before my vacation.  I’m off for most of the week leading up to St. Patrick’s Day.  No idea why I didn’t take the full week, in hindsight…but whatever.  I’m really looking forward to the time off.  I’m making no plans to do anything during that whole week.  Just going to sleep and forget what day it is.  And probably also Guinness, corned beef, Father Ted, and other Irish things leading up to the 17th.  🙂
  12. I’m very full.  I ate a massive breakfast this morning (mostly by accident—the bag of hash-browns was a lot fuller than anticipated).  Then tonight, I got an order of Kung Pao Shrimp, and when they asked what size, I heard myself saying “large” for some reason…so I was obligated to eat that, since I paid for it.  Ever see that scene in Monty Python’s “The Meaning of Life” where the guy explodes from eating the wafer-thin mint?  That.

Well…that’ll do it.  Pretty tired from all the nothing I accomplished today.  Going to watch some more of the Monkees marathon on TV then go to bed (maybe a little early?).  Church in the morning.  I’m leading the songs.  I played guitar with Jeremy at last week’s service too, but I can’t remember if I posted the song list or not…  If not, there were several of them.  And we did okay.  And I wore a shirt of some kind, I’m sure…