House of Blues God

According to NPR, Jerry Falwell is set to open his new 6,000-seat arena church this Sunday in Lynchburg.

So who wants to go? I'm on the phone now, trying to confirm whether they'll be Cotton Candy for sale during the service...

I'm dead! Or alive! Whatever!

Ryan is returned. Much like the Coolio from the rapping. And has not died. Also much like the Coolio (although that is just for speculation, henceforth I do not know in truth, because I have not seen this Coolio for many days now).

Subsequently, the trip was much a successful thing. We saved very many tired babies, extrapolated fourteen ton worth of World War Two era hard steel land mines, rebuilding many spaces of central Turkey, and marrying and to be consumating multipleness two very humble women of Sochi, Republic of Georgia. I have the pics, as the internets say, and I will to be posting them as soom as a very humble person shows me how to do this.

But not now! Because I am to need a vacation, and today I go forth to beach, to relax, reward, reduce, reuse, like the green triangle printed on plastic containings of the Coca-Cola. As you are to be reading, I have turned my head, and am now as insane as the shit that comes from a bat. Is fine. though, because I am also very European Trash. I drive a Seicento Fiat, and on the weekends, a used Vespa.

So for today I go to beach, tommorow I post all good things information for you humble tired readers. Good to have been back. Forza USA!

"So, do you come here often?"

I've mentioned previously [first comment] the strange interactions I have with a barista I see almost everyday. But today's gem was particularly noteworthy:

Barista: Kind of late in the day for coffee. I hope you don't stay up all night.
Stanley: Well, I try to avoid caffeine after four o'clock, but I have to work till ten tonight, and I still have a lot of things to get done.
Barista: You have pretty eyes.

The whole thing reminded me of teofilo's flirting discussion. Does it even count as flirting when it's so overt? Is Barista just passing along a compliment at a strange time? Because I find it simultaneously flattering and eerie.

Wry and Update

I have it on good authority that Ryan is alive and has sent at least two e-mails from his band's e-mail account. Beyond that, I got nothing, but I certainly invite speculation.

Especially groundless speculation.

The Shit List

Bad: people who pop their collars.

Worse: people who listen to contemporary country music.

Worst: people who combine the former with the latter.

Dispatch from the Wild West

T(h)om's got a full report on Bonnaroo, complete with photos and the requisite hippie stuff. (Peace and love? Dude: Step away from the yerba. You're going to be all right...)

Seriously, though, it's a good read.

Shootin' Blanks

So Rick Santorum has been claiming that some old-ass, leftover-and-forgotten-and-buried weapons from the Iran-Iraq war (you remember; in the 1980s) justify the WMD claims that helped lead us into war with Iraq. I just heard Tony Blankley (editorial page editor for the Washington Times) talking on the Diane Rehm Show. He picked up this argument and ran with it. The meme seems to be: these old weapons are dangerous! To the troops we have there! See? We told you! Dangerous weapons!

Um, horseshit. That's not the mushroom cloud Condi was talking about, Tony.

Are Republicans really going to make WMDs an issue in the upcoming election? If so, I can only look forward to Democrats bobbling the opportunity to point out that this is a sham argument. Whether these old weapons are dangerous is irrelevant to the central claims of the run-up to the Iraq war. Santorum is just running scared, given the looming threat of Democratic challenger Bob Casey.

You heard me, Democrats. Get out there and fuck this one up, too.

16 inches!

I've long been perplexed by the quizzical reaction of Virginians when I speak of 16-inch softball. But this WaPo article helped clear things up. I had no idea this game's origins were in Chicago.

The very fact that there are "saloon teams" rightly suggests the bowling-like atmosphere surrounding the game (except there can be beer and running).

Resolved: we will import this game to Charlottesville.

I'll have the balls*.

Will you ?

*(No, really. I'll import them!)

Ryan's GF = My BFF

So Ryan remains in abstentia (wherever that is), and I need to talk to his girlfriend. The last night Ryan was in town, Girlfriend and I made plans to go on a date.

Not a date-date. (That would be a dick move, just like hitting on someone's ex-girlfriend is a dick move.) This is a friend-date, during which we chat and I tell her embarrassing things about Ryan and we laugh and then Ryan and she and I are all better friends afterwards.

But I don't know how to contact Girlfriend.

Do you?

Swenska

I saw Dungen last night at the Ballroom. I'll spare you the traditional bloggy review, but I will say:

• The drummer was fantastic; no, I mean: really, really, really good; and too quiet, which probably wasn't his fault.
• The vocals were too quiet, too, not that anyone was singing along; this non-ability to sing along made for the eeriest part of the show; after all, who speaks Teh Foreign?

On the whole: 8.5 out of 10.

alltel, baby

Ryan still does not have an internet connection, but he is currently stealing wireless space from a reputable coffee shop (although he did purchase a cookie shaped like a high-heel, and a tall French roast) in order to tell you the following:

1) Sorry for not having an internet connection, and for subsequently not posting in a long time. I have missed you as much as you have missed me.
2) I do, in fact, now own a cell phone. It is red. With camera. And texting. And I think I can download Nelly songs, but I haven't figured it out yet. I'll let you know. Boogie.
3) I will be visiting friends in Jersey (the French island, not the American state) for two weeks, and will probably not post anything during these two weeks. Sorry for the inconvenience. I'll come back with plenty of nice pictures.
4) I don't even wear deodorant.
5) Thank you, Stanley, for keeping the blogging train rolling whilst I have been out of commission.
6) I love most of you.
7) Hossanah in the Highest.

[]D [] []V[] []D

An Open Letter to Degree Deodorant

Dear Degree Deodorant,

As a long-time user of your pleasant "Shower Clean"-scented deodorant, I was shocked and disappointed at your recent marketing shift.

"Shower Clean" is now considered a subset of Degree for Women, while men are encouraged to purchase Degree for Men, which putatively "protects men who takes risks."

This marketing strategy is alienating, not to mention out of touch with the intellectual trends of the day. Anyone worth her salty armpit sweat knows that humans are not so easily broken down into the simple gender binaries of Man and Woman. Shame on you, Degree Deodorant, for being so wilfully out-of-touch.

But, rather than boycott your product, as may seem justified, I'm acting to subvert it. Today I proudly applied Degree for Women's "Shower Clean" scent to my underarms. Because a man wearing women's deodorant knows what true risk-taking is all about.

Tsk-tsk-edly,

Stanley



UPDATE: Degree offers the corporate line in response:

Hi Stanley,

Thanks for writing!

When a product is re-formulated the previous formula is discontinued and all remaining stock is shipped to stores. As such, we are not able to assist you in finding any stock of the old formulation.

Prior to launching the new line of products, the Brand team conducted extensive testing. The new line was found to be superior to the prior in consumer testing. Because the personal needs of consumers vary greatly, Unilever manufactures many different products. We are sorry that the changes made to this product did not meet your needs. We will forward your comments to the appropriate staff.

Thanks for your interest!
Your friends at Degree

Lame...

The Most Disgusting Aspect...

...of using a public bathrooms is the Warm Seat Phenomenon. Blech.

The Scenery

Breaking News: a majority of The Nice Jenkins now lives in Belmont.

Breaking News: Ryan is without cellular phone, land-line phone, or internet connection at his new digs (not in Belmont; he is a minority in this regard).

Breaking News: Jerome helped me make salsa tonight. It's a fire-roasted five-pepper salsa. Among its ingredients are lime, cilantro, and garlic.

The Alternate

I'm back from a long weekend in Chicago (well, mostly Tinley Park, Blue Island, Mount Greenwood, and a handful of other suburbs and neighborhoods on the city's south side). The latest wedding confirms that, had I stayed in Chicago, rather than moving to Virginia:

• I would shave my head or wear excessive gel in my ever-depleting hair;
• I would have recently graduated with a math or science degree, perhaps from UIUC;
• I would have a good-paying job doing something with the above-mentioned degree;
• I would be arranging my finances to acquire a townhouse or condo on land that was once used to grow corn, far to the south (and west) of the city's downtown;
• I would be planning my marriage to a girl from nearby, preferably Irish/Polish Catholic and fond of the make-up;
• I would be, for all it's worth, as happy as I am now.

{Sidebar: this post has been made weirder by the fact that I just finished watching Donnie Darko for the first time.}

The Brews

Gawd, I love the History Channel sometimes.

Back-to-back episodes of Modern Marvels covering coffee and beer? Seriously. Just fuck me right now. Hard.

Best facts for which I have no actual, factual citation (the one downfall of the History Channel):

• Coffeehouses led to the segmentation of modern newspapers, since intellectuals gathered (specifically, in London) based on intellectual discipline; this break-down by genre spawned the modern-day, segmented newspaper.
• James Madison proposed a national brewery.

Proof-positive that the famed Extra Billy's Java Bock, known by few (Beth?), is a(n) homage to our cultural heritage.

UPDATE: on October 14, 1978, Jimmy Carter signed a law that made it legal (once again) to brew beer in one's home. Is there no question that he's the best president since (at least) Nixon?