Sharpening Paris Hilton's Face

So I'm not really in the vault anymore and its making my posting quite erratic. I apologize to you, dear reader, for not finding time to share the inanity that is my life with you.

So the weather has been about as nice as that picture implies--not too cold with low, fast moving clouds. Spring has been doing its bouncy thing, and the hormonal reawakening which accompanies the seasonal change has made my eyes gaze a little longer, my step a little quicker, and my johnson a little harder.
I've been slobbering over nearly every guy I've seen in the past week or so. (Well, almost.) Every guy I see is cute or hot or sexy or attractive for a different reason. Today on the bus ride home from work (what is it about the bus), I saw the guy who has a bag that looks like mine. I sat directly across from him. No recognition whatsoever. Bummer.
Last night, a guy at the bus stop and I both arrived mere minutes late. The next bus wasn't for a half hour, so I headed to the next stop. When I got there, I looked back and he was taking the same route as me. He was a traditional PacNWer. Navy blue pea coat, unbuttoned, collar popped. Red heather wool sweater. Vintage jeans and white sneaks with a single red racing stripe. Quite a bit of scruff, pale, dark hair.
I don't know what it is about pale guys, but I've always found the ability to see one's veins as unbelievably sexy. Wait a second, where was I?
Oh yeah, so he was behind me, probably about half a block. At the next stop, I look back "for the bus," but really only to make eyes at the guy. I think to myself, Did we exchange a look back there at the bus stop? I start writing stories about he and I. About us. We'll laugh one day about how we met because we both missed the bus. About how I turned back at every stop just to look at him. About how I stepped on my shoelaces until they became untied. About how I bent the fuck over in front of him, and how he knew he had to have a piece of that.
My dance of the seven thin(ly) veils, however, was wasted on him.
Maybe the next guy I bend over in front of will take me up on the offer.

Oh, and in case you're keeping track, here's my newest (and crappiest!) post on Seattlest. Its so crappy because I've been so boy crazy lately. Oh yeah, and training for life outside of the vault.

If you're wondering about the title of this post, its what I did at work all day yesterday.

The night in pictures

Kelley, Bill, the Steves and I hit the Premier last night for some free beer and free music. I think we had a good time--I was 2 and a half hours late for work today.

One, two, FREE

This week is filling up with stuff to do. The winter doldrums are giving way to the exuberance of spring, and I'll be the first to tell you, it angers me a little.

See, I like the rain. I like the diffuse lighting from cloud cover. I like the marine layer. I like the mizzle. I like my sweaters. I like feeling ensconced in weather. I don't like feeling like the sunshine is out to get me. I hate shorts. I hate sunglasses. I hate flip-flops (or, as I used to call them, thongs).
So in appreciation of the weather, I got World of Warcraft this weekend. I need something to keep me inside.

Anyway, this week will see me out and about.

Mainly cuz, when shit's free. I be there.

Tonight is this event @ the Premier w/ Pretty Girls Make Graves, Helio Sequence, and Aqueduct. The latter is the only one I'm mildly excited about--oh, and free beer.

Tomorrow is the sneak of Thank You for Smoking @ Pacific Place.

Saturday is the opening of some new, lame club.

I'm going to try and see if I can't wrangle a ticket to The Pillowman and that will officially make this one of my busiest weeks ever.

Plus, I'm training the new kid at work and gearing up for a life on the Graveyard.

In more serious news, my sympathies and condolences go out to the friends and family members of the six people who were slain early Saturday on Capitol Hill.

I am angry with the perpetrator's reckless actions and I am angry with the bent that news sources like the Seattle Times are taking regarding the incident. It is not the fault of the music. It is not the crazy hours. It is one man and his psychoses that attacked those people.

Rest in peace.

It's official

I'm a total nerd.

I'm a failure. I can't even fake the death of a stripper.

Wednesday. Frak. Longest work day in a very long time.
Anyway, since it feels like this vault is some sort of No Exit punishment--only without the hell of people--I figured I'd make a tiny post of inconsequentiality. (Is that even a word? It is now.)

Have you seen this nut-grabbin M&M commercial from the UK? [via Bobs Yer Uncle]

Uh. What else--Oh yeah, Julianne Moore is hitting the Great White Way for David Hare's The Vertical Hour. Sounds like a trip to NYC, to me. Some people (Feb. 15th entry) find her choice of roles repetitive. I, however, find myself drawn to her ability to flesh out the minutiae of each character. [Article]

And, finally, a blast from the past. Y'all remember Blair? It was easily one of my favorite sites when I was a youth. That was all the way back when I was doing the web thing via Geocities. Writing about a fictional version of the Flowers in the Attic going to Broadway with RuPaul as the grandmother. If you've never checked out Blair before, go there now.

Hope you're almost over the hump that is humpday.

Ninja tune

Not the record label, but a song's ability to sneak up on you from the shadows and come out kicking.
Today's ninja tune:
"Suddenly Seymour" from Little Shop of Horrors.
I love this song, but I have no idea how it lodged itself in my head.
Hopefully, it will be stuck in your head, too.

Here's a version from some actress' web site.

Then there's this crappy Mandy Moore, Adam Pascal version from Bravo.



My problem with both of the above renditions is that there is no heart and Seymour sounds as though he is a full-fledged hero--not a reluctant one. And Audrey isn't someone who suffers from abuse and low self-esteem, she's just the chick to whom the dude is singing. Meh.

Here, this one's a little better, but still, you can tell the performers get all performer-y and care more about showing off their range than staying true to their characters. (Its the new B'way cast, starring Kerry Butler, in case you were wondering.)

For my money, Ellen Greene is da bomb. Not only does she have some pipes, she embodies Audrey. She originated the role off-Broadway in 1982 an reprised the role for the film. Unfortunately, I couldn't find any MP3s of either version on-line. So you'll just have to settle for Amazon snippets.
[Orig. B'Way Cast]
[Mo. Pic. Sdtrk.]

May this song be stuck in your head for the rest of the day.

My I don't have to run day

Update: I'm an idiot!!

I'm about five days early on Mike and Janice's anniversary! Whoops! Turns out, I have my Yahoo reminder remind me 5 days before. And also, they've been married for six years, not 7. Guess I'm not a good friend. But, we all knew that.

First of all HAPPY ANNIVERSARY TO MIKE AND JANICE!!!! This adorable couple have been together for . . . holy crap . . . 7 years now! Way back in '99 they tied the knot in an adorable chapel just north of Austin. I was lucky enough to attend. Now they live up here in the PacNW, and are busy making names for themselves. Congrats on 7 years of marital bliss you two!!!

Now onto less important things:

Did you see this Chris Durang piece in the Huffington Post? He's pretty much a genius and totally hysterical. He went to Yale or some such snotty school w/ the likes of Sigourney Weaver, but don't hold that against him!! He's also one of the most talented American playwrights. If you ever get a chance to see one of his plays, I'd HIGHLY recommend it. His play Miss Witherspoon will be at ACT Theatre in April.

Oh, and just because I'm crazy and obsessive, here's a link to a great David Foster Wallace story about being on the set of David Lynch's Lost Highway.

Happy Monday(s) everyone!

How do you feel about the rectum as a hole?

I've had my share of bad dates.
There was this guy.
There was the guy who didn't like music or movies. "Well, what do you do," I asked.
"I collect model trains," he replied.
My hand quickly darted into the air to attract the waitress' attention. "Check please," I said. "Sorry, I just realized that tonight is the Buffy season finale." Strange, that makes twice that Buffy has lessened the blows of a bad date.

So, onto Friday night's date. Once again, he was not a bad guy. In fact, he was kind of sweet and innocent. Well, let me rephrase that, he was just pretty dim. I think what irritated me most about him was the fact that he had a full head of hair, but didn't do anything with it. It was cropped short and pushed down. Being follically challenged, I resent people who have hair, yet refuse (or don't know how) to do anything with it.
Um . . . what else . . . oh he had presecription shades, the kind that change colors in sunlight. I guess some people find them useful and shit, but my problem with them is that they remind me of Zartan.
Neither of the above listed quibbles would be enough to deter me from pursing an possible love interest if there were substance and depth beneath the surface. So we start talking about TV. Since TV is easily the most throw away medium, I can let the fact that he likes Grey's Anatomy and Desperate Housewives slide. I mean, I watch BSG, and I know that's not for everyone.
So onto books. "What's your favorite book," I ask. My hopes get unexpectedly high when he says, "Well, I don't know about specific books . . . I think it would be easier to say that I have a favorite author." Could I have misjudged him? Could there be the heart and soul of someone who invests time and imagination in the worlds created on the printed page?
"John Grisham is my favorite author." No. Fucking. Way.
And even though I was inwardly judging him, I outwardly used my social politesse and somehow avoided rolling my eyes. Apparently, he wasn't much of a reader until late in life. At least he reads.
So then we had to move onto movies. If I were able to repress my snobbery for literature, any such restraint would invariably come out as venomous when discussing cinema. Tenatively I asked, "So what's your favorite movie?"
"Well, I really like sappy romantic comedies." Oh christ, here it comes. "Notting Hill is my favorite movie." NO. FUCKING. WAY. I could not contain the eye roll, but luckily, I don't think he caught it. "What's your favroite movie," he asked.
I use an old Matt joke that I find highly amusing, but was completely lost on this boner. "Well, I tell everyone that my favorite film is The Decameron [nsfw] , but really my favorite film is Blood of a Poet." Naturally, such middle-brow humor is lost on such a knuckle-dragger.
So the date ended with him congenially giving me a ride up to the hill so Kelley and I could party proper.

You know the really fucked up part about the whole thing? I kept thinking stuff like, "Well, I could give him good books to read." "I could take him somewhere to get his hair done." "I could pick out his clothes for him." "I could take him fun film festivals." "I could learn him good. Real good." But I mean, fuck! I'm almost 30. 30. Christ. I shouldn't have to compromise SO much right at the beginning, right?

Chartreuse with envy

First of all, HAPPY 30TH BIRTHDAY to TENNILLE!!! Ten years ago today, she and I were being scrunched by a semi on our way back from spring break in San Francisco. Luckily, we lived to tell the tale--even if the Jeep did get a little body damage. Just think, the day prior we almost got married in Reno. Oh, how we misspent the carefree days of our youth.

Now, a decade later, Tennille is back in SF. Its like everything old is old again. Like really old. Bitch is 30! Damn, guess that means I'm next. Anyway, warmest birthday wishes old lady!!!!

The weak-end is here. yippity dip.

Seeing as how I have to wait until OCTOBER(wtf?!) for a new ep. of BSG, I guess I'll have to be social or some shit this weekend. I think I'll go on a date tonight at this lovely establishment. If you're nosy enough, I might even tell you how it goes.

Tomorrow I'm going to geek out (what's new, right?) with the Godard film festival at NWFF. Sure, Breathless won't be playing, but it will be nice to see Band of Outsiders and Weekend with other nerds.

I'm sure you've heard about the latest South Park debacle involving an alleged fag, his crazy cult, and their inability to laugh at themselves.

In other news, tastemaker (or follower depending on your take) Pete Tong got married to Brazilian model Carolina Acosta. Pete's Radio 1 show on the BBC is world famous and has launched more than one career into superstardom. From what I know of him, he's a genuine guy. I saw him here in Seattle a few years back and NO ONE came out. There were literally 40 or 50 people there. You could tell he was a little pissed (who wouldn't be?) but he still chatted me up and asked if I listened to his show and whatnot. Congrats to the couple! [article]

You a winner, ha ha ha

Hey look, everybody!! I won a T-shirt from the Manhattan Offender! This makes the second thing in my life I have won. The first being a trip to DC over Easter weekend to see Deep Dish at (now defunct) Buzz @ Nation.
The T-shirt is from the movie The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things directed by Asia Argento and based on JT LeRoy short stories. If you're not familiar with all the hubbub about LeRoy, check this out. LeRoy is a great literary scam far surpassing Oprah's whipping boy.
Asia Argento, however, is what gets me hot about this film. She is the daughter of Dario and a decent filmmaker in her own right. She starred in her father's film The Stendahl Syndrome which brought a whole new level to the way that I viewed art.
Basically Stendahl syndrome is what happens when you're confronted with an array of art and it suddenly becomes overwhelming and causes an emotional overload. It can lead to panic attacks and dementia, which, in my book, is pretty damn cool. It happens a lot to visitors of Florence.
I have experienced Stendahl syndrome once. There was an exhibit at SAM of modern artists. It was a modest collection with pieces from Warhol, Lichtenstein, and Rothko. After seeing quite a few works, I turned the corner to be confronted with a huge Hockney. It had to have been 10 feet tall. It was a painting of a man on a couch facing the viewer and another man in profile. The coffee table in front of the man on the couch had a huge paint blotch. When I saw this painting, I burst into tears. There was no reason whatsoever for it. It was strange and powerful experience.
So yeah, I'm looking forward to this film.

In other, less exciting news--
Charisma Carpenter is still hoping for the Wonder Woman role. Personally, I think she could be really great in it. [Article]

And if you want some music, here's a Marques Wyatt stream from Groove Parlor. Marques brings that west coast flava like nobody's bidness.

Also, Trey Parker and Matt Stone are on Letterman tonight. Maybe we'll get some railing against Scientology for Chef's departure? One can hope.

Rarely am I surprised . . .

. . . by the search terms entered to find this little ol' blog.

Today, however, I have reached a new high (low?).

This is how someone found me.

The gayest gay that ever gayed

Last night was a total blast. Hit up Bill's for the 3 hour marathon of MustGayTV. 3 hours, 3 bottles of champagne, 3 big ol' homos. It was so gay that we had to periodically open the window to let some gay out. It was so gay that we had to scrub the gay out of the couch. It was so gay that I gayed five times and no one noticed.
I won our humungous pool for "Who would win?" Chloe. Give me your dollar bills. That's right, I made $2. Boom. Drinks on me next time.
Bill made a lovely polenta topped with goat cheese, basil, and a roasted tomato compote. There were also crazy-good-lemongrass-thai-things with an equally bomb dipping sauce (sorry, I was too busy shoving them in my mouth to pay attention to what they were). And cookies. And champagne. And laughter--so, so much laughter.

Can you believe that neither Bill nor Cam knew about anal bleaching? (That was one of the times when I totally gayed all over the place.) Its nice to know that I can pass along important, community-oriented, political issues to the boys.

So, onto ANTM. Who's my favorite in ANTM? Tough to call. As far as who I believe makes good TV? I wish that crying bitch would have made the cut--if Rich did his "Rolling Crying Count" again, that hooker would have brought the total into the triple digits. The racist was ridiculous. The fact that Tyra is trying to become more compassionate, or whatever, because of her talk show is retarded. 3 more months of gaying out to the gayest!! I live with 3 straight guys so I pretty much know for a fact that, if you are a male and you watch ANTM, you either have a girlfriend and are very kind, or you like the pole.
In case you were wondering, I think the concesus was Nnena (verified by a text message from Paul), then Sara and Mollie Sue.

So now that I've finally puked out most of the gay in the bathroom at work today, I'll go on to the Jeremy-style news--which is still pretty gay:

Did y'all know that John Malkovich is a clothier? Malkovich, malkovich. MALKOVICH!!!!

I have to wait until August for the new Junior Boys album. That's cool. I'm a patient man. I'm almost 30. I can do it.

Pitchfork has a tracklisting. I find it a tad pequliar that this track isn't listed. The title is "So Sleep." It wasn't on their first album, either, so maybe it'll show up on a B-side somewhere. The part that intrigues me is, I think this is an excellent track. I think it is very indicative of their sound. If this didn't make the cut for the second album, how good must these songs be?
Also, if you saw the JBs on their last tour and actually look at the merch table beyond, "T-shirt. Want. Buy." to see the mix CD they put together, please burn me a copy or send me a link to a downloadable file. Yes, I am that obsessive.

Jerry Abstract and NordicSoul put on a free show tonight at Nectar. Too bad I'm spent. Too bad its in Fratmont. Too bad its at Nectar. I do love free though, so you never know. If you don't know/haven't heard either of these two hometown heroes, they play some ferocious beats with an emphasis on ass-shaking. Oh my god! Its techno music. [e-flyer]

When I hear music

I know, I know, its been a week or something since the last post. Gosh, mom, if I had known you were worried, I would have called.
I'm sure you're so very curious about what I've been up to. Well, not a lot. Enjoying the new digs. The boys and I made the short trek to Sunset Hill for, well, sunset last week. It was nice, but we got there a little late for my taste. It still looked like there was fire on the Olympics which was pretty rad.
Had a low-key weekend due to the fact that I had to be in the vault for some awards show on Sunday.
Made German pancakes on Saturday and Sunday. They turned out surprsingly well. I'm kind of glad I only recently learned how easy they are to make. If I had known previously, I would most likely be even fatter than I am now.
Saturday night made some manicotti which turned out pretty well. I'm going to start photographing my creations and if anyone wants recipes, let me know.
Tonight--chicken parmigiana. Yum!!

So, now that you know what I've been up to, I can get to talking about the shit I like to talk about. Namely, music.

I've never been one to ascribe any of the myriad micro-genre titles that are so rampant in dance music. In fact, if you know me, then you know that I generally refer to dance music as dance music. One of the monikers which has always bugged me is IDM--Intelligent Dance Music. Its elitist name is diametrically opposed to the populist impulses of dance music. Just because IDM has a tendency to eschew the 4/4 time signature, producers and critics have deemed it is somehow more intelligent than other dance music--that it somehow appeals to the thinking man. In a way, it does. IDM has become more of a branding tool that alerts the rock kids to electronic music with a krautrock bent.
So let them have their labels because every once in a while, the outright DM has more thought than all of that other shit combined.
Enter Booka Shade's newest album, Movements.
I can't tell you how much this album has taken me off guard. It is their second LP coming on the heels of last year's Memento. Memento was a great album. It more than adequately represented the sound of a label which, until that point, had only released 12"s.
Movements, though, is light-years beyond. It features the already giant-sized "Mandarine Girl" a version of "Body Language" and twelve other tracks. Just listening to how they've built onto their previous sound is jaw dropping. The care with which they have created some of the filters is mind boggling.
Imagine a filter crawling onto a keyboard melody and shooting out different tones--some sound natural, some sound like they're from outerspace. Then the seemingly same filter moves its way down to the chugging bassline--madness ensues. This isn't just selecting a chunk of a track and slapping on a filter, this is the type of obsessiveness that separates good from great. There are plenty of hand claps and a bass drum that rattles windows for you rhythm junkies. These guys keep the 4 on the floor and have created an intelligent dance album that lives well-above anything labeled IDM.

So, you want some music.
I can do that.

Here's "The Birds and the Beats" from the album. It is representative of not only the eclecticism, but also the bombastic approach these guys have to knockin' out beats. (Up later, having problems w/ my box acct.)

So I'll give you this one, too. This is entitled "Wasting Time" and its a bit more melancholic, but still groovin'. Enjoy!

And if you're looking for more--
Labelmates (and co-owners) M.A.N.D.Y. have a mix available for download here.

If this type of dance music makes you shake your head in bewilderment, then I'll direct you here to one of the finest mixes from BeatsInSpace---Darshan Jesrani of MetroArea. If you still don't get it, then you probably never will--go back to your rock-n-roll concerts.

I don't even know 20 people

If you were planning on going to Lisa Shaw next Friday, please let me know. Trinity is doing some promotion where, if you bring 20 people, and come around 8:00, they'll supply appetizers and drink specials. I've already RSVP'd but I don't have the requisite 20. In fact, I've got me and maybe Matt (depending on his work schedule). So e-mail me if you're interested. Could be a fun pre-funk before a good show. (Even though we've all seen her a billion times.)

Lisa Shaw w/ Jask -- Friday, March 10th -- 8:00ish -- Trinity Nightclub -- A Uniting Souls event