Oh well, now I don't feel like posting about Thursday night's events, except that there are now pictures circulating of Larissa making out with the Ludacris cake, and there are now collectable stickers of me in the midst of a silly dance. Also, I decided while at work again, after the party, that dressed in my shirt and tie, wearing black dockers and my Chucks, that I could easily have been a member of some late-70's/early 80's power-pop group, a la Cheap Trick or Katrina and the Waves, The Knack or some such. Especially with my current shaggy hair. Cassie & Shannon are going to perform a make-over on me Wednesday, and apparently, I am getting subtle blue highlights. I said that I was not Stinko Man 20x6, and was told that it would just be visible with the light in my hair...since I am never out in the sun, nobody will ever know. As long as I don't look like taht clown Silbowitz (hee hee), whose hair now matches the bedroom wall in the house I still haven't finished painting.

No house-painting got done today, as I was too busy sleeping the entire day, as a result of 6am horking from an evening of queasy-feeling stomach. I woke up at 7pm, in a zombie-like state with a stiff neck and my brother talking at me before I could even comprehend what he was saying, although I believe it was about Pearl Jam continuing to play "Bushleaguer" on the second leg of the US tour. Not that I don't care, but I wasn't quite ready to be bombarded with information of any sort. He could have told me that aliens had abducted our parents and replaced them with sacks of potatoes marked "His" and "Hers" and it would have met the same dull response.

Also, tonight, I was watching "Subterranean" on MTV2 ("120 Minutes" is no more, this is its new name, which I suppose, is overdue, since "120 Minutes" has been airing since before I was into alternative rock (which was like over 15 years ago or something, and I have the videocassettes to prove it -- how many of y'all remember "Post-Modern MTV" hosted by Kevin Seal?), and they were talking to Conor Oberst about the video for "Bowl Of Oranges" and talking about the girl who did it (it's animated fabric and stuff, with some live action mixed in), and they showed the video, and then after seeing her name on the bottom of the screen, I realized I knew her. It's such a weird thing when you see someone's name on TV whom you've known, even briefly, and shared moments of some sort with, and then practically forgotten, only to get jolted by the reality that they still are out there, working on life. It's a small world after all.

And that's all I have to say about that.

I was gonna post about Will's screening party for "Delma Dewey Dimsdale: The Making of a Misogynist" when I got home from work Friday morning, but I came home to discover that my brother shorted out the computer keyboard with an uncontrollable stream of spew that issued forth from his open mouth. I guess that just goes to show that making fun of Monkeypox and living on a steady diet of ramen will eventually catch up with you. As a result, we took a trip to the Apple store in the Walt Whitman Mall to buy a new one. Sixty-four dollars later, we have a white keyboard that is vomit-free...and better stay that way! The post-party wrap-up blog will have to wait until later.

Anyhow, Matt and I stayed (since he was too ill to go out, I decided to hang with him) in and bonded over DVDs of "UHF" and "Wayne's World." That was great fun. We were hoping that "Pain Cave" would be among the bonus features on the WW DVD, but it was not to be. I looked through my paper trail of videotapes from the early 90's, but could not find the MTV special it originated from. But I will find it. I know it is around somewhere. And when I do fiind it, I will make all of you watch it, as "Pain Cave" is one of the greatest lost anthems of our time (or any other). After all, has life gotten any better since hearing "Step inside my pain cave and I will bludgeon you/ you don't have to scream because your ears are bleeding/ that's perfectly normal when someone bludgeons you/ the bleeding part that I was just referring to..." In my humble opinion, that is the apex of all metal and/or pop music. If I can get another gig, I may just have to cover that bad boy. If you even vaguely remember "Pain Cave" email me at thecrazypablo@aol.com

end transmission

Argh! I lost a post this morning. I was talking about all manner of cool things that I don't feel like talking about now. Main point was that since Sergei let the cat out of the blog, the new Come Down tracks recorded by Brian McTear are full of atmospherockingy goodness. Thanks to the goddess who is my inside source for giving me that hook-up. So, no, Sergei, I am NOT jealous of you. Nyah nyah nyah! Pffffftthh!

But it was good to see the Sergei at Saints & Sinnners(that's not MY typo, just look at the club and ou shall see) Thursday night. I never get sick of him always pulling his "you got something on your shirt" trick EVERY SINGLE TIME. I also appreciate getting tips on decent beer from him, as he has yet to steer me wrong.

Well, I gotta eat and drink some coffee (I'm not going to be eating the coffee, but rather, something else) before work.

okay, love ya, bye bye

Sorry about the grump factor back there. I get edgy sometimes. This is what happens when your younger brother has over 300 Friendsters, making yourself and your 168 Friendsters feel sub-par. I am the older brother of the life of the party. No matter what I do, he does it more extreme and in a more balls-out fashion. The fact that I am the quiet one should send a distress signal to actual quiet ones all over. I could act all crazy and stuff, but then everybody would just be like "He just wants to get attention like his brother does." But, dude, I was here first! I taught him how to be crazy. He just picked up the crazy ball I gave him and ran with it like Carl Lewis or some shit. I dunno. I think I'm getting all maudlin at the twilight of my long dark twenties.

On the bright side, after many months plus a year, I finally put my Buddy Christ on the dashboard of my car. I don't care if it rains or freezes... I took a look at the bedroom tonight to get perspective on how it looks with dry paint, and I'm stoked. A couple of places where you can tell that it needs that last coat, but otherwise, bee-ooty-ful. Now, what the hell color for the living room, for Pete's sake? Was commencing work for a 1996-themed mix cd for a dear friend, when I wondered if I could get away with that, since we didn't have mix cds back in 1996. I think all laws of space and time require me to cease-and-desist until such time as this mix becomes a cassette. Email me your thoughts on the subject... TheCrazyPablo@aol.com

speaking of 1996...Ain't My Lookout by the Grifters is now playing, and man, I'd forgotten how rawk this was. They were the Kings of Memphis to me back then. "Fate has only one thing in mind."

rock it like it's 1996 and indie-rock is having its last stand, like the brave fighters at the Alamo Rent-A-Car versus Santana's evil scourge. But don't forget that Davy Crockett actually SURRENDERED, and was killed anyway. He DID NOT fight to the death at the Alamo, as had been suggested. Thus making Jim Bowie the only useful member of the Original Alamo Thirteen. No basement, indeed. That one is for you, Sergei.

Since nobody is banging my door or returning phone calls, Sergei gets his wish -- I update this lousy thing. Hi, I am off every-other weekend. There are entire weeks that go by when I don't see any of my friends. This sucks. Many of my friends are busy, and I accept that. My problem is those lazy friends, who don't have 5 million things to do, but don't even make an effort to find me when I'm NOT working, which seems to be a rare night lately. I mean, sure, hang out with your best friend down the block, who you see EVERY night, because he/she/it doesn't work a 7pm-7am shift every other night of the week. Bah! Whatever. I'll go it alone. If you want me, you can find me left of center, off in the dark. And I think I'll be carrying the cell phone. I'll be in the Huntington area tonight...at kickball, etc. Promised Lisa at Barnes & Noble a visit. Hope everyone has a goood night. If I hear you stayed at home doing nothing instead of calling me, I will be disappointed in you. Didn't you hate it when your folks said that to you? I'm outta here....