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Saturday, June 21,
2003 at 20:43:30 (EDT) |
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You can't take away my bein' free
I went to Kinko's to make copies to make flyers for our next party
(housewarming for M who moved in this morning), and this guy next
to me at the worktable appeared to be assembling a comic book. I caught
the name and looked
it up. The author appears to be a professional, but I couldn't
believe that you can buy comics that literally were printed and assembled
in Kinko's. It's even surprising to see that in zines
these days. I guess if he can afford to do it that way, it's pretty
cool. I dunno, maybe he was just there to use the paper cutter. But
he was still doing it himself (I assume he was the author cuz the
main character looks like him). That somehow gives me hope. I might
even buy a copy.
Now the rain has subsided and with any luck, will stay that way
for a few hours. I'm annoyed to check the forecast
and see that as soon as this rain is done, we'll be hitting 90 degree
weather for the rest of the week. Also thunderstorms are expected
on Saturday, which is when I wanna have this party. But knowing
the weather we'll probably have flaming hail falling on us by then.
Trying to decide how to dress for a party full of strangers. I
think 'low key' should be the operative phrase here. I'll save the
leisure suit for when I know these people better, when they can
truly appreciate the deep and meaningful gestures of ironic commentary
that have defined my award-winning personality for the past three
decades. Yeah. I think I'll wear a dark shirt, and forgo the loud
purple pants that my friends always give me shit about. Someday
I'll live in a world enlightened enough to see that a $6 pair of
pants always looks good, as long as you keep in mind how cheap they
were.
P.S. Word on the street is that Oakley
Hall will not be able to play at Pianos
next Friday, due to the lead singer's horrifying injury ... but
Oneida is
taking their place. So I'll finally get to see them. And yes, I'll
brave the throngs of annoying elbow-in-your-face scenesters at the
bar to do it.
Posted By Jimmy Legs
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Friday, June 20,
2003 at 10:26:22 (EDT) |
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More news at 11
Okay, so they set the rent-stabilization
guidelines, 4.5 percent increase on one-year leases and 7.5 on
two-year leases. So it's up from the 4%/6% from previous years. Apparently
some landlords' representative was at the hearings, trying to get
them to increase it to like 20%. What an asshole.
It occurs to me that I am not sure if I know anybody in RS apartments.
Anybody out there stabilized? Most people I know are un-stabilized,
in more ways than one (ha I crack my shit up). People keep talking
about doing away with regulation of rents altogether, which I am
not totally against, but would be like dropping a bomb on the city.
At least at first. Then again, if they wait it out, eventually every
single RS apartment's rent will increase to $2000, which deactivates
the regulation and turns the apartment into "market rate."
My question is when those apartments hit $2000 and are liberated
from the rent laws, does a landlord ever rent them for less than
2K? Sure they do? Landlords love grabbing less money!
Looks like they're making ephedra illegal here, too, just like
they did in Ohio and some other states. I can live without it, obviously,
but the banning of this herb is so rooted in weakest-link thinking
it makes me puke. Some stupid people took too much of the stuff
in some asinine logic that it would help them lose weight and dropped
dead. It's a shame, but you don't mess around with stuff like that
without doing a little research.
Oh, and add to the list of notable Ohioans this Columbus
guy who conspired to destroy the Brooklyn Bridge. He ranks up
there with that Lancaster guy who ordered anthrax through the mail.
Posted By Jimmy Legs
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Friday, June 20,
2003 at 00:33:58 (EDT) |
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I couldn't take another day
My ex-roommate is dragging her move out way past the point of decorum.
She paid through the 15th, but still left a bunch of crap here. She
came by tonight to 'clean up', which involved throwing some stuff
away (a new thing for her, I assure you), and promising to drop off
a check for the utilities she owes. She picked up a broom, but there
is no evidence she actually did anything with it. Looking in her old
room, I am stunned (or not so stunned) to find the space has not been
cleaned in at least a year, if that. You know what happens when dust
is left untended for a year? It becomes Superdust, and it's clinging
to every semi-horizontal surface in the room. It's dust so thick you
think something is a different color than it actually is. Kinda like
that old lady's room in
Great Expectations, but without the metaphorical content.
It's fine, I'll put up with almost anything to be rid of her finally.
As I look around the house now, I see there is much more stuff
here than there should be. I threw out most of my worldly belongings
when I moved here. What the hell is all this other crap? Not just
the stuff my ex-girlfriend left, or even the stuff the ex-roommate
left. I'm talking about stuff left by the Other Former Roommate.
He moved out well over a year ago, and since three other people
lived here I guess it was hard to discern. But now I realize all
this stuff belongs to him. It's very strange to realize this, since
he's been gone so long. But from the looks of it, he grabbed a couple
of things in a pillowcase and headed for the hills. But it's not
so bad, at least I have a full set of pots and pans, and I shall
never want for colanders again.
I just read up on the Department
of Sanitation's web site that they will take up to six pieces
of 'bulk trash' every time they come by for regular garbage. So
I'm gonna start with the extra dishes in the basement, and work
my way up to the discarded computer, humidifier and Christmas tree.
This house is gonna be all half-Jews in a matter of hours, so we
don't need any reminders of the Christians who once lived here.
I'll still keep my crucifix, if only for sentimental reasons (plus
I hear tell the guy who was on it was one of the Chosen People).
But the piñata has to go. And the copy of Phantom
of the Mall. I simply cannot impress chicks with these things
in my house.
Posted By Jimmy Legs
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Thursday, June 19,
2003 at 11:38:10 (EDT) |
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I know a girl who reminds me of Cher
The real world and the blog world are both getting smaller. One night
after hanging
out with fellow bloggers on Tuesday evening, who should I run
into last night (again at the Alibi, surprise!) but the proprietor
of Not Too
Shabby, the articulate and clever and lovely and
hilarious Abby
(did I get it all?). I guess it's one of those things that was going
to happen sooner or later (like running into my ex without first preparing
by writing a song), but it seems especially odd in its proximity to
the previous meeting. Maybe it's a sign.
I need to go with the flow in these situations, but I find myself
having to resist just talking about all things bloggy when I'm around
other people who know a thing or two about it. We were having a
mostly satisfying conversation about bar mitzvah bands and speaker
art, and that should have been enough. But in the back of my head
I was reviewing the list of questions Jami
asked me the other day. Why do you blog? What do you get out
of it? Are you a glutton for punishment? It's like a virus!
But I didn't indulge in that particular corner of my geekdom (sound
recording equipment, however, was much wallowed in last night).
But still the biggest revelation of the night lay looming:
Kids today under 25 don't remember the Flaming
Lips and that hit song of theirs, "She
Don't Use Jelly." This was brought up because of the advanced
age of me and future roommate M. Zack was able to reach back, way
into history (1993!) to pull out this ancient piece of pop history.
And the young people of America have forgotten this?! This is why
the US is falling behind the rest of the world. "No
Child Left Behind," my ass!
Seriously, it was fun. Both Abby and Zack are most charming, especially
the way they constantly correct each other. I remember when I used
to be able to do that *sniff*. Now I just correct people when I
ride the bus ("It's 'I'll kick your honky ass', not
'ya'"). Let's all do more blog get-togethers. I know
everybody's schedules are out of sync, so to make it easy for everybody,
I'll just have to go to the Alibi every night. Sure, it'll be hard,
but I'm williang to sacrifice for a bunch of people i sort of know!
Posted By Jimmy Legs
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Thursday, June 19,
2003 at 10:38:24 (EDT) |
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Name this thing
NPR is doing their
pledge drive again, and they seem to have thought of every possible
person who might be listening to guilt them into donating money. Today
they have decided to go after the telecommuters. I may be paranoid,
but they keep casually mentioning people who "work at home"
("if you're in your car ... or working from home, make
that call!"). I know it's just a crap shoot on their part, but
it was one of the first things I heard when the radio woke me up this
morning. It makes me feel like they can see me somehow. I'm still
waiting for Soterios Johnson to say, "We need your money, Jimmy
Legs. Send it in. Now."
Actually, that's not a bad idea. They should look up the most common
names in the city and start working them into their programming
day. People would think they were being referred to directly, and
out come the checkbooks! Or out come the lawyers. Could that be
considered harassment?
Posted By Jimmy Legs
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Wednesday, June
18, 2003 at 11:01:11 (EDT) |
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My Plastic Algonquin Round Table
In an effort to give the Alibi
the acclaim it deserves, I keep touting it to people as though it
was the greatest bar of all time. But let's face it, it's dirty, drafty
in the winter, the draft beer is sketchy, they are often out of Bushmills
and Powers,
and that damn mulberry tree is starting to drop its sticky berries
everywhere. But like many things in my life, I can never stay mad
at it for long.
Last night I met up with some
other
bloggers from the neighborhood (South Williamsburg is pretty much
the same as Clinton Hill, right?) there, to converse like humans
instead of usual modes of discourse: the monologic blog, and the
intermittent email. We discussed ... the breakup.
When I gave my side of the story, it was determined that I am a
"glutton for punishment," not the least of which was constituted
by the amount of abuse I took last night. Ah, but it's all attention,
innit? And we talked about other stuff too, but the break up is
mine, all mine! We talked a bit about the desire to blog, which
may come from a selfish need to preach to the universe. Or maybe
it's just a need to give people an opportunity to ignore you on
a whole new plane.
If nothing else, this experience proves that not everybody you
meet on the Internet is a sociopathic pervert. Unless ... I'm
the sociopathic pervert! But I'm probably not. I get used to conversing
with people on a blog level, and then it seems a little strange
take it up a notch to actual human interaction. Even when I see
José
or Josh
now, it seems a little surreal at first, even though I knew these
people before they were bloggers. Ooh, I smell a syndicated TV special:
Before They Were Bloggers.
Maybe I should make this a regular thing, Tuesdays with Jimmy @
The Alibi. But next week I should get back to the Naked
Angels readings. Which reminds me, Jami gave me her copy of
Cintra Wilson's
A
Massive Swelling, so I'll finally be able to determine if
her reading
last week was quality work, or if it was just her delivery. But
if anybody wants to go to the Alibi any other time, I may be persuaded.
Posted By Jimmy Legs
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New
lame song about a cat: Freddie |
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Tuesday, June 17,
2003 at 10:19:12 (EDT) |
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Why can't we be Friendsters?
Friendster
is probably a good idea, but there's something tense about its language
when adding a friend to your list.
Joe Shmoe <joe@shmoe.net> has tried to add
you as a friend.
You should approve this request only if you really are friends
with Joe.
Is Joe your friend?
[Yes] [No]
I look at this thing and it seems so serious, I have to ask "Is
Joe really my friend? Would he pick me up at the airport?
Would Joe help me move?" But apparently doing Friendster
means never having to ask those questions again. If you hit "Yes"
on the approval page, then you must be friends, right? So next time
I fly into LaGuardia, I'm gonna just shoot off an email to one of
my Friendsters and say "hey, I'm getting in at 2:30. see you
at the United terminal."
Posted By Jimmy Legs
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Monday, June 16,
2003 at 11:56:52 (EDT) |
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Lead, gold, tin, iron, platinum, zinc, when
I rap you think
My house is empty and I can't find my cat.
My ex-roommate joked about taking her when she moved, but now I
have to wonder. This cat is not that big, she could be in the basement,
or she might have gotten outside. But if she was kidnapped by that
twit, I may have to go on a rampage down Greene Ave.
So I didn't make that Central Park West party. I feel bad, but
another party was available that did not require an hour each way
on the train, so I went to that. It was cool until I realized at
3 AM I was in the middle of a heated discussion about the merits
of "Star
Trek: The Next Generation." Exit: Stage Right.
Blackalicious
put on a lovely show. It occurs to me now the reason they aren't
more popular is probably just because they don't curse much. They're
described as "west coast" rap, but it sure ain't gangsta.
At some point, Gift of Gab announced they were about to perform
"the most ferocious song in the history or music," which
caused a lot of muted discussion about what the song could be, whether
it would be a cover, whether it was wise for a group to claim its
own song as The Most Ferocious Song of All Time, despite the braggadocio
often associated with hip hop. Then Gift of Gab leaned forward on
the mic, paused ... and sang the "ABC Song." He chose
to end it with the communal option, "Next time won't you sing
with me." Brilliant. Then they started in on their vocabulary
songs: "A to G," "Alphabetic Aerobics," and
my fave, "Chemical Calisthenics." We were stuck way on
the side cuz everybody digs a cheap show in the neighborhood and
had showed up early. We did somehow have the distinction of being
some of the last people to leave, I'm not sure why. This, plus an
uncooperative 2 train, helped me make the decision not to bother
with Manhattan.
Hung out with the Ex (gotta lotta ex's in my life these days) last
night at Great
Jones Cafe. Nice little joint, but its centerpiece (besides
the cool jukebox) is the fact that the bassist from Pavement
bartends. I wanted to tell him about the Stephen
Malkmus show, but I figured he probably already knew.
Posted By Jimmy Legs
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