Friday, December 12, 2003 at 12:44:21 (EST)

We are not daily beggars that beg from door to door
Papa M's tour van got stolen again! How does this keep happening? But it looks like the show tonight will still go on. It's at the Knitting Factory. Meanwhile, across town, Oakley Hall will be playing at Lit at 10. We're gonna try to make it to both shows. Of course, Oneida is playing at Sin-é around 11:30. How I wish I could make that show! But I don't think I can't do it all. So somebody else go to that show and report back to me. Tomorrow I'm supposed to be getting taken out for hot wassail. Does anybody know what it is? And can I assume it has alcohol in it? It better.

I've decided to give up on the idea of bird feeder and reinvent it as a squirrel feeder. It's all the same to the cats anyway. And squirrels are kind of cute, plus they fight each other and make weird chattering noises at each other. I find this highly entertaining.

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Thursday, December 11, 2003 at 11:35:33 (EST)

Seen a lotta things happen in my car
Here's a website for people to send in photos in which they flip the Bird to Hummers! How I despise these stupid vehicles, I've been flipping them off for years, I just never thought to take a picture.

Have you guys seen that H2 stretch limo that's been sleazing around town lately? And I thought SUV limos were bad enough, this thing looks like the ship from Space: 1999.
[via Purgatory.org]

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Wednesday, December 10, 2003 at 10:14:06 (EST)

You don't need no bad excuse
I need to stop listening to my bandmates when I ask them about going to shows. I made this mistake again last night when I was trying to decide if I could still make it to see Templeton at the Knitting Factory. Templeton's an old Columbus band I used to see during my 2-year sentence in that city. I didn't even know they were still around, but when I got word they were performing, I knew I had to check them out.

But the bandmates, naysayers all! Band practice ended around 9, and the show was officially scheduled to start at 8. So my question was, if Templeton was scheduled to go on second, would I still have enough time to get to the show? Bandmates said no, pointing out that for this to work, the show would have had to start at least an hour late. Apparently, this was simply not possible. "It's the Knitting FACTORY," they told me. "Bands go on ... on time ... bang! bang! bang! bang!" with attendant hand gestures to illustrate the sheer efficiency of said "Factory." Still, I felt I'd been there before and had to stand around for a long time before the show actually started.

Luckily, my bandmates became obsessed with turning a car speaker into a kick drum mic, so I slipped out and took the train uptown. The Knitting Factory is actually really close to my house, only 3 stops into Manhattan. I got there at 10, and was actually about 10 minutes early. So there! The band still rocks, as do most bands from Columbus. When I lived there, few bands rocked. Templeton was an exception, so I was glad to get to see them after so long and find that, if possible, they rock harder than they used to. I could try to put my creative writing degrees to work and describe the specific weight and hardness of this Rock, but it'd just end up sounding like a Village Voice review. We need to put a stop to that sort of thing.

Oh, and while that dreadlock guy from Punkcast was not at this show, Ric Ocasek was. That's a seal of approval if there ever was one.

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Monday, December 08, 2003 at 23:27:04 (EST)

Now I can face the day on legal speed, The American Way
Okay, I might be late to this one, but I saw this book at a book store in Williamsburg: The Coffee Table, Coffee Table Book.

It certainly is a book that needed to be written, at least from a design perspective. There have been many interesting coffee table designs throughout the years. But it goes without saying (though I'm explicitly mentioning it here), that Kramer once published his own Coffee Table Book About Coffee Tables, complete with little folding legs for people who have no coffee table to call their own. I think this justifies my encyclopedic knowledge of this TV show.

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Monday, December 08, 2003 at 23:06:58 (EST)

We need some definite answers
While I'm waiting for my tooth sockets to heal, here's a question: which "Jungle Love" is superior, Morris Day & the Time, or the Steve Miller Band? I'm sure we're all familiar with the music, so I will print the lyrics:

Jungle Love
Morris Day & The Time

I, I've been watching you
I think I want to know ya (know ya)
I said I am a little dangerous
Girl I want to show ya (show ya)

My jungle love, yeah (oh eee oh eee oh)
I think I want to know ya (know ya)
Jungle love (oh eee oh eee oh)
Girl I'm goin' to show ya (show ya)

You, you've got a pretty car
I think I want to drive it (dive it)
I, I drive a little dangerous
Take you to my crib and crib you up, huh
(Jungle love)

Look out! Oh! (oh eee oh eee oh)
I think I want to know ya (know ya)
Oh! Jungle love, yeah (oh eee oh eee oh)
Girl I'm goin to show ya (show ya)

C'mon baby where's your guts?
You want to make love or what? (oh eee oh eee oh)

I will take you to my cage
Lock you up and hide the key (oh eee oh eee oh)
You are only getting powder babe
'cause if you're hungry, take a bite of me

(CHORUS)

Jungle love, oh! (oh eee oh eee oh)
I think I want to know ya (know ya)
Jungle love (oh eee oh eee oh)
Girl I think I wanna (show ya)
I think wanna something else
Hey Jessie! No now Jerome, yes (oh eee oh eee oh)
Check it out!

(CHORUS)

Jellybean! huh, Whooa! (oh eee oh eee oh)
Yeheheheah!

Weeee haha
Oh! That's it, that's it
Hold on....

Jungle Love
Steve Miller Band

I met you on somebody’s island
You thought you had known me before
I brought you a crate of papaya
They waited all night by your door
You probably wouldn’t remember
I probably couldn’t forget
Jungle love in the surf in the pouring rain
Everything’s better when wet

Jungle love it’s drivin’ me mad
It’s makin’ me crazy
Jungle love it’s drivin’ me mad
It’s makin’ me crazy

But lately you live in the jungle
I never see you alone
But we need some definite answers
So I thought I would write you a poem
The question to everyone’s answer
Is usually asked from within
But the patterns of the rain
And the truth they contain
Have written my life on your skin

(CHORUS)

You treat me like I was your ocean
You swim in my blood when it’s warm
My cycles of circular motion
Protect you and keep you from harm
You live in a world of illusion
Where everything’s peaches and cream
We all face a scarlet conclusion
But we spend our time in a dream

(CHORUS)

Okay, obviously Morris Day's song is cooler, possibly because of that movie he was featured in, in which he was way cooler than Prince. But if I had to admit to which song pops into my head most often, I gotta admit it's the SMB. And I don't just mean it wins out over Morris Day, I mean it pops into my head more often than any other song on the planet. Why? As you can see, the lyrics are utter crap. They make absolutely no sense seem to imply that Mr. Miller had no idea of the colloquial use for the phrase "jungle love." Yet and still, I love the chorus to that song. It's damn catchy, and easier to mumble-sing to yourself than the Wizard of Oz-influenced chorus of Morris Day's "Jungle Love."

And I haven't even taken the Vicodin yet.

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Monday, December 08, 2003 at 19:06:06 (EST)

I hurt myself today
All the fun I had this weekend was tempered by the fact that I had to get my wisdom teeth removed today. Scheduling such procedures one day after one's birthday is my way of coping with my Jewish Guilt gene. It's okay, I can make these jokes, I'm part Chosen-People. Anyhow, as the apt reader may recall, I canvassed for wisdom-tooth anecdotes previously, as I had no idea what would transpire. I probably shouldn't have asked, considering the number of chilling tales of pain and impaction that resulted. Not to discount anybody else's suffering, but I aced this thing.

I only have wisdom teeth on the upper jaw. My father never had any wisdom teeth, so I only have half as many. The maxillofacial (now that's a scary word!) specialist assured me that top wisdom teeth were a cinch; it's the bottom jaw that creates cube-headed zombies. He offered nitrous oxide, but I demurred, as I was fearing stumbling out some hours later and accidentally getting on a bus to Atlantic City. So they just shot me up with some Novocain, then proceeded to wrench my teeth out. It didn't hurt, but it was far from being a completely numb experience. I could feel the teeth moving, and I could hear them crunching as he twisted them out of my head. He popped them out and stitched me up. They seemed surprised how fast it all went, about a half hour long. Next thing I know I'm back on the street, my cheeks stuffed with gauze. I had planned on taking a car service home, or if I was really far gone, calling Z and his magic minivan. But I had no reason to feel spacey, so I took the bus home.

Right now I feel absolutely fine. But the special long-lasting novocaine they shot into me just before I left is gonna wear off soon. Why don't they just give me a tub of that novocaine jelly? I could just dab it on whenever needed. Actually, why do we need to feel that back part of our mouths anyway? They should just make it permanently numb. I bet I could eat habaneros all the time. But they gave me a scrip for Vicodin, which I now realize is pretty much the same as Tylenol with codeine. I might take one tonight for fun, but I think I'll hang onto these for a rainy day.

Anyway, here are my teeth. Why are they bi-colored? One tooth was completely submerged in my gumline, and the other was only barely peeking out. I guess maybe the enamel is only on the top. Perhaps Doctor Sean can answer this question.

Posted By Jimmy Legs | Non-PermaLink

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Sunday, December 07, 2003 at 20:36:03 (EST)

It's all right, if it makes you feel better
It's my birthday! I keep forgetting, all day K had to remind me. Is my mind starting to slip? Maybe, but I think my lapses can be attributed to the sheer drunken debauchery that has caused me to miss most of my other engagements this weekend. I didn't go to the show, I didn't get to the party. I did end up going to the wedding, which was held in a yoga temple. The meal was vegetarian but tasty, the toasts were positive and life-affirming. And yet somehow I convinced the party to move down the street to the 119 Bar, where we got shitfaced and danced like rioting stockboys. I haven't been to the 119 Bar in many months, so it was a lovely reunion. That bar still rocks.

However, the night was not without its casualties. I lost my keys, K lost an earring, J almost lost her video camera, I lost a glove. And I don't think those Chaser tablets work at all! They're the tablets that are supposed to ward off a hangover. I've tried it twice now and both times I ended up feeling something very much like a hangover. The stuff has a money-back gurantee, but since it involves getting drunk enough to bring on a hangover, it becomes very difficult to verify if the directions were followed correctly. Two pills are supposed to cover 6 drinks, but the thing is, I can't remember how much I drank. Why? Because I was shitface drunk! If I try to make a claim against the company, they'll just tell me I didn't follow the directions cuz I'm a no-account Otis-from-Mayberry drunk.

I have more stories about the weekend, but I'm going to the Alibi.

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