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Wednesday,
December 10, 2003 at 10:14:06 (EST) |
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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.
Posted By Jimmy Legs
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Monday, December
08, 2003 at 23:06:58 (EST) |
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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....
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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)
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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.
Posted By Jimmy Legs
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Monday, December
08, 2003 at 19:06:06 (EST) |
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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
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Sunday, December
07, 2003 at 20:36:03 (EST) |
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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.
Posted By Jimmy Legs
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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.
Here's
a 
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 
Okay,
I might be late to this one, but I saw this book at a book store
in Williamsburg: