When I played soccer (or football, depending on how you talk out loud) in the 3rd grade, we voted for a team name.  One dude, who talked too much, wanted The Sweathogs.  I wanted that, too.  Another fellow liked The Rowdies. Another fellow wanted The Strykers.  The dude for the Sweathogs kept pacing saying "Sweathogs" so much that Coach Kennison told him to shut up and that we were not going to be called The Sweathogs.  The team was called the Rowdy Strykers. 

The MTA workers went on strike today.  I’m going home today.  I hope that’s good timing.

robot soccer

On Friday, I saw Todd Barry and Andy Kindler on Friday for one of those Comedy Central Presents.  They both killed.  They’re killers.

for your wallet-size

On Saturday, I saw my friend, Dave, play.  He was Izzy from Brownstone and played an acoustic set of his own material.  Good times.  Good songs.  He has no cd’s nor a website so you’ll have to have my hearsay alone.

"Thanks so much for coming out to my show Saturday – it really meant a
lot to me. I was not expecting so many people to show up and neither
were the people working there. When I was soundchecking the sound guy
was all "hey, maybe people will hear your guitar and come upstairs and
stay for a song or two…then at least you’ll have a few people in the
room."  Then you guys were all "hey, we’re here for the show" and I was like "yeah!"
So anyway, I really appreciate it."
That’s what Dave said.  And check out my misuse of quotes.  If you change the quotes to parentheses and exchange "hey" for the power of 2, and get 8, let me know.  Because math and grammar are out the door today.

On Sunday, I went to the Big Apple Circus.  It was okay and then this ventriloquist came out.  I love ventriloquism.  Even if it’s bad.  The guy, Willer Nicolodi, did this act with a live dog.  I don’t know how he made that dog like a puppet but he did.  He made me an idiot for his entertainment.  And then he got three humans to talk through.  He killed.  Wow, did he kill.

Willer Nicolodi with Rudi, the smoking bird

Dear Axl Rose,

I am sorry that I used your likeness on stage this weekend.  I was you not only in New York but in Boston as well.  I wore a kilt like you did and a bandana like you did and grew a beard like you did and tried to sing like you did.  But if you were Elvis, I would have been Aloha Elvis, which I like better than young Elvis. 

I used cheat sheets for all the songs that I thought I knew.  You write so many words and its hard to remember.  I apologize.  But, boy oh boy, you should have seen the mess of notes at the end of the night.  It looked like I was reading old timey data sheets in the rain.  You see where I’m going?

I also didn’t drink the sweet tea that was offered to me.  But, in that I think I was straight on with you.

Oh, and by the way, I don’t know what road you paved but your audience loves to have water spit at them.  I should feel bad for such behavior but I don’t.  When a fake Union soldier pokes his finger at a fake Confederate soldier and says, "You are dead.  I just poked you with my finger that represents a sword used by the man I am reenacting," I feel I was completely in line.  I did see you in ’93 at Texas Stadium but was too far away to have seen you spit if you did.  I noticed you pouted a bit so I did the same and it covered up me reading the handheld cheat sheets that were the back ups to my large cheat sheets. 

In closing, I am sorry but I had a good time being you.  You should be happy that you are Axl Rose.  That’s the difference between me and a civil war reenactor.  Oh, and what’s so civil about war anyway?  Haha.  Get it?  Anyway, my weekend was awesome because you made it awesome.

mo

good times

We had Mr. Brownstone practice on Saturday.  Those songs are awesome to sing.  I gotta learn the words.

I had three nosebleeds on Saturday.  One of them occurred when we were playing “You Could Be Mine”.   I was reminded today of the nosebleed while looking over my notes as there were specks of dried blood all over the page.  That day, I kept going because a) we were renting a rehearsal space and b) it just seemed so badass to sing and bleed.

I remember giving an “It’s alright” look to “Izzy’s” concerned look.  It was especially awesome on the bridge.  Oh, these words tasted like blood:

“While you’re breakin’ down my back
and I been rackin’ out my brain
It don’t matter how we make it
cause it always ends the same
you can push it for more mileage but your flaps are wearin thin
i could sleep on it til mornin
but this nightmare never ends”

Hey Hey!
“There are some jokes you cannot understand until you have been a fool many, many years and thought yourself finally cured and then found out that you had just become a different kind of fool.”
-Uncle Pietro
The Earth Will Shake
Robert Anton Wilson

someone needs to work on his corn mo album (dm photo)

My friends, Will and Emily, were in town.  We met at the Met and looked at art.  I should go there more often than I do now.  When I moved to NY, I told myself I should go to the Natural History Museum every Saturday.  I haven’t been in 2 years.  

  The Forest in Winter at Sunset, 1845–67
Pierre-Étienne-Théodore Rousseau (French, 1812–1867)

I also told myself to go see more theater and I haven’t.  My friend, Nick, came to town and got me a free ticket to see Doubt.  The theater is nice and you can drink beer at your seat which is a plus.  John Patrick Shanley wrote a really good play.  He also wrote Joe Versus the Volcano, a fine film that lovingly shows off Long Island City and Abe Vigoda.

warm hearted, who farted?

Back to Saturday, I tried to take Will and Em and Jasper and Josh and Una to the 7th Regiment Bar but it was closed.

I went to see my roommate’s band on Friday night at the Irving Plaza.  I was real proud to see them on the big stage.

my picture phone works

My friend, Drew, calls bluejean shorts, jorts.  He’s getting some for friends as Christmas gifts.

Drew, in the middle kneeling, knows what to get the dojo for Christmas