Archive for the ‘particulars’ Category

“Point Breeze” sounded less… murdery.


A week or so ago I relocated to a beautiful rowhouse in South Philadelphia. It’s great! Redone hardwood floors, massive ceilings, tons of rooms, a dug out (and finished!) basement… there’s even a heated walk-in closet right off the bathroom. This place is so classy that I will have no problem finding someone to love me and make my life feel rewarding again.

What isn’t great about this house is the goddamn transit strike that punched me in the throat like two days after I moved in. Thankfully it ended today, but I was leaving the house at 5:30AM every morning and not getting home until 9PM some nights. Not to mention that I had to walk through some questionable areas. The Dunkin Donuts on 16th street is crazy tempting after walking for two miles, despite the trans-fat content.


I’m a pretty hungry dude, so I spend a lot of time cooking. I looked at several dozen houses before settling. All those places had electric stoves. This one is gas. That means we win. You can come over for brunch and I’ll cook, like, some baked eggs with leeks and swiss chard and maybe a rosemary tea cake if you have a sweet tooth and everything will come out totally awesome. This stove will not let you down.


Four piece bathroom. It’s off the hook. I can potentially be taking a bath while a sexual partner is washing my disease off of him or her in the shower. And then another person could be brushing their teeth at the sink, and another person could be peeing using the toilet. That’s like four people in the bathroom right there. I could have bathroom parties. Look, I’ve already designed the invites!


Hmm. Let’s stop talking about this and move on with our lives.


It was an 0F on the shame scale

Have you ever been in a situation that was so embarrassing that you actually started praying for an apocalyptic event, as the loss of all human life on this planet would be preferable to the discomfort you were experiencing at that moment? Let me entertain you with a story!

I volunteer at a chiptune show once a month in Philadelphia called 8static. It’s pretty awesome, and I’ve been a fan for a long time, so I love being able to help out with taking tickets, hanging posters or whatever to support the show. One of the perks of volunteering is that I can bring a guest for free. My friend Ryan heard about the audio mixing workshop before this month’s show and wanted to check it out. So he was going to be my plus one, as the French say.

Except Ryan was really late and completely missed the workshop. His excuse was that he had to stop and eat an entire pizza on the way. When he did finally show up, he was obviously drunk. No Carrier (who organizes the event) came over and I introduced them to one another. Ryan starts pointing to me dramatically, saying “I love this guy!” No Carrier tried to be nice, with a reply along the lines of “Uh, yeah, he’s great.”

Then Ryan decides to up the ante: “No, you don’t understand. I love him sexually.” There was an accompanying hand motion.

I guess he thought it would be a hilarious thing to say. It wasn’t. I wanted to die. I’m surrounded by tons of really cool musicians and some guy in a soiled Nike t-shirt is talking about doing me. And he’s my guest.

On top of that, he was trash talking open mic performers. “That dude needs to get his head out of his ass! That was terrible!” Keep in mind that 8static is hosted in a rather intimate venue, so when he said such things, everyone could hear him.

After two sets of that, we had to leave. As in, Ryan decided that he was tired and we had to leave. So I didn’t get to see Covox or Nullsleep play. The entire ride back to South Philly I just kept thinking “Oh man… is this really my friend?” But I suppose true friendship extends beyond the limitations of common sense, civility and hygiene.

Besides, it could have been much worse. Ryan could have pulled out his cell phone and shown everyone video evidence of his loving me sexually. That would have been awkward.




I’d like to thank my high school sweetheart Erin for sending this Power Rangers episode my way. It’s more or less what an average birthday is like for me, except with better voice dubbing.

I am older today. It’s been bugging me. I’ve been noticing that I am getting gray facial hair, that it’s harder to keep off weight, and that my eyes carry even more of an unspeakable sadness than usual. I want to go back to being seven years old and thinking that cinema could not make a better film than Ghostbusters (I hate David Lynch for turning me into an adult). I miss trying to dream up reasons as to why my Batman action figures would be riding in Ninja Turtle vehicles (there was a rip in the fabric of space/time, FYI). I feel like Kilgore Trout at the end of Breakfast of Champions, except my creator is a perpetually unhappy Montessori teacher that lets me stay in her guest bedroom during the week.

On top of all that, I forgot to pick up my dry cleaning today. That’s the part that really pushed me over the edge. Why do I care about dry cleaning my clothes? Am I really that old?

Oh well. Not much I can do about it. I’m going to spend the rest of my birthday playing The Path and reflecting on all the innocence I have murdered in my lifetime.


Intergalactic Hoagie Sojourn


Right now, this very second, I am on a train. To Maine!

I know what you’re thinking: “Mr. Stress, why is this a big deal? You travel all the time. And you are so good looking.” This is a big deal because it marks the reunion of SUPER BEST PALS FOREVER, the covert team of artists I served with during the Great Hipster War of 2004.

In other words, I’m going to see all my old college friends again for the first time since graduation and I’m totally excited. SUPER BEST PAL Agent DeAnne is getting married! And her wedding is somewhere in the back woods of Maine, pictured above. It’s a camping dance party wedding.

I’ve got a bag full of Wawa sandwiches, a couple suits and a tent. I’ll have my laptop with me, so maybe I’ll be able to live-blog getting eaten by a bear.

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