It Was Probably Penned Ten Years Ago, Anyway...

If you've found yourself in ear shot of a radio that plays horrible Top 40 hits, I'm sure by now you've heard the 'Attention Whore Anthem' "I Kissed A Girl (And I Liked It)" by Katy Perry.

I don't have a beef with this song for it's "controversial" overtones. Honestly, the whole idea of two girls kissing is about as shocking as "Girls Gone Wild" on VHS. Actually, after you listen to the lyrics a few times, you kinda wonder if the song wasn't written back in maybe 2000 or 2001.

My beef is primarily with the fact that it's a terrible song, sung so badly that the engineers had to mix in synths over the vocals (ala Cher's last gay dance club hit "Believe" back in ... what was it, like 1996-7?). The only thing floating this ridiculous her-tongue-in-her-cheek ditty is the fact that it's about two girls kissing.

Two girls kissing. So? Honestly, two girls kissing is pretty much played out. Go to any bar on any weekend night and you'll see two girls kissing. Tune into "Gossip Girl" on the fucking WB and you see two girls kissing. You'll even see maybe three or four girls, drunk, faces in a circle, kissing each other. Why do they do this? It's because they crave the attention of men.

Guys, and I'm really only speaking to you impressionable fellows, like my roommate, who have some rose-colored vision of how the world works: Just because two girls kiss doesn't mean there's going to be a threesome, with you in the middle of them, calling yourself a lucky bastard with the world's biggest shit eating grin on your face. I know this for a fact. Two girls kissing is basically the 2000's version of a drunk girl flashing her tits around the bar. She's starved for attention, daddy never loved her, and she wants a man to look her way. That's all.

Honestly, a song about two girls kissing is about as sexy as Warrant's "Cherry Pie" video is now-a-days. Maybe I've just gotten older, or... something, but faux-dykes don't really get my wheel turning. It's like thongs. Thongs were all the rage about ten years ago. Hell, there was even a song about that too. But now, I don't even really like them anymore.

Maybe I'm on to something here: Write a horribly catchy pop song about something taboo, and it (the taboo-ish behavior) will officially die.

Technically that's not true. Back in like, 1996 or something, a little known one hit wonder named Jill Sobule sang a much more controversial-at-the-time song about kissing a girl, called "I kissed a girl." It was a sweet and innocent song, as I remember, sang by a petite blonde Jewish girl, that was going behind her husband or boyfriend's back with the brunette neighbor.

Hot.

The new... "I Kissed a Girl" has all the charm of a dead stripper.

My other issue with this, if I can get a little conversative right-wing on everyone... but this song is obviously aimed at young girls. No... self-respecting 20-something lady is going to be wearing cherry lipstick unless she has little girl fantasies. When I hear this song, I'm somehow reminded of the girls I went to middle school with, which.... creeps me out probably a little more than it creeps you out reading that last sentence.

Kids, between the ages of like, 10 and 14 experiment. It doesn't matter if you're a girl or a boy, if you're gay or straight or just a little curious. Everyone's curious, Ryan. Little dudes want to see what other little dudes cocks look like, girls want to kiss their best friends while they play tea party in the little fort made of couch cushions. It's nature. We're curious creatures. This is why we humans would never survive in the wild.

A tree branch snaps in the distance. A herd of wild gazelles book it out of there. If it were a herd of people, half of the motherfuckers would wander on over towards where they heard the branch snap, and subsequently be killed by hunters.

To compound my arguement, my beleaguered roommate wandered into the watch room and I asked him his thoughts on the topic at hand just now:

"Hey, what do you think of that Katy Perry song?" I asked.

"The," he starts to sing "I kissed a girl, and I liked it-t-t.. the taste of her cherry chapstiii-iick!"

"I think it's cherry lipstick,"

"No, it's cherry chapstick."

"Ok, but what do you think of the song, like, does it turn you on, does it disgust you - what, you're the target demographic for this type of common American media bullshit,"

"What does that even mean?"

"Nevermind, give me your thoughts on the song."

"Well," he starts, "I used to think the song was sexy, you know? But then, one day when I was walking across the K Mart parking lot, I saw these two eight year old lesbians singing it, arm in arm. That kinda grossed me out."

And there you have it.

Undoubtedly the song will live on in some mild jaded infamy as a song that soared high on lesbian-fantasy wings for a short period of time. It'll be the choral for strip club lapdances and karaoke duets amongst drunk college freshman girls. There is nothing we can do to stop this. We should just let it wash over us like... like... something else gay.

Though it begs, would Mtv play a video about two dudes kissing? I venture not.

Also, Katy Perry.... not that hot. Really. And nothing's worse than two not-so-hot girls kissing for guy's attention. It's sad. Not hot, but sad.

Pic Post: Doherty Watch, Day 2!

I mean, it could be just me, but the suit and the kid does give him some level of... cleanliness. I'm currently taking bets on when next he punches out a papparazzo or jams a needle into his arm to squirt his blood at someone. Odds? Takers?

The Inevitable Blacklash

I was reading an article yesterday on HuffPost about how the honeymoon between the media and presumptive Democratic presidential nominee Barak Obama might be coming to an end. It was quoted in the article that Obama has been coming off as "arrogant" as of late.

So hold on for a second here? You mean to tell me, this guy, who just about every media outlet (aside from probably FOX News) has been fawning over for the last twelve months is just now starting to get a little cocky? Really?

I recall an episode of The Daily Show where Obama was a guest, and as we was being teased into the show by Jon Stewart, they played "Halilujia," as if he was the democrat's Messiah.

And you're upset he'd developed what you may think is a "complex?"

Truth be told, Barack Obama is the Democratic Party's Second Coming, and with good reason. Here you have this Kennedesque politician (gasp, a minority at that! I'm sure the ACLU creamed their pants when he became the front runner, finally picking up Hilary's limp swollen head, placing her open mouth on the corner of a curb, and stomping her into oblivion, ala "American History X" or that one episode of the last season of "The Sopranos") who for the first time in almost a decade doesn't come off as either a boring college prof robot or a dick who talks out of both sides of his mouth. You have a candidate with a spine, good looks, and a plan.

The motherfucker went to Germany, and put more people in one place than a Scorpion's concert.

He's a rockstar, and yeah, maybe he's getting a little bit of a big head over all of this shit. I mean, while he's speaking to the krauts, his chief rival, John McCain is doing a club show in Wilkes -Barre, PA in some shoe factory or some shit. I mean, seriously.

But then again, who seems more down to Earth?

I did a little soul searching on that question, as in, who would I be more comfortable with as president, the rockstar or the everyman? Who would lead us better?

Back in 2003 or 04, a poll was taken and Americans stated that they'd be more comfortable sitting down at a bar and having a beer with G-Dub than John Kerry. Bush was more approachable it seemed, and at that point in our Nation's History, we hadn't totally fucked ourselves in Iraq "too hard" yet.

Based on this, (and some other things I considered that will remain in private) I want a rockstar for a president. Clinton was a rockstar, Regan was a rockstar, from what I can remember, Kennedy and both Roosevelts were rockstars. The country needs a cocky coxswain to steer us on a right course, not some swinging dick that you wouldn't mind having a beer with.

You could argue that Bush is/was cocky and arrogant as well, but he didn't become that way until he locked down his second term, and no longer gave a flying fuck about his administration. He basically treated his second term and the country like I treat my beat to shit 1998 S10, where I know it needs a lot of work if I want it to last another few months, but fuck it, I'm getting rid of it soon anyway, why not beat it into the ground a little harder for a goof?

Media: Let Obama be. When and if he takes the throne, he's going to have a lot of work cut out for him, so why not let him play up the part a little bit, and give the world the idea that America's still on track wth being a little pretentious, a little arrogant, and a little dashing all in one. Let him have his swagger and loose tie. Let's be progressive for once and ditch the whole "Old white guy as president" thing. I mean, yeah it's safe, but only because we've never experienced anything else.

Let the old white guys do their thing with running Mtv, The GAP and Congress. Let's put a rockstar on the stage and watch him perform.

Lazy Sunday Pic Post: Doherty Watch!

This guy is a wreck. He looks how I feel most mornings I spend hung over...











In all seriousness, I understand that British guys are supposed to be pasty as fuck, but seriously, this guy is a shade paler than most corpses.

Television's New Low

Since about 1999 reality television, the type of tv shows that depict "average people" consorting in all sorts of nefarious behavior, has been a staple in most house holds. What started with "Survivor" a battle of the fittest to combat elimination at the hands of your fellow contestants, has morphed into an obvious incantation of greed, which at it's root, is reality tv.

Vh1's "I Love Money" is about as grass roots as one can get, in the realm of greed-fed reality television. The formula is unsurprisingly simple: Take the most notorious cast offs of every Vh1 inspired "I'll Fuck a Has-Been for Fame/Love" show in the last two years, and strip away all the bullshit. There's no decrepit former gangster rapper to suppress your gag reflex around, nor a balding middle aged one hit wonder with a love for bandanas and scarves. It's simply the money these contestants will (again) prostrate themselves in front of while Americans sit at home and watch and wonder how much more embarrassing can this all really get.

News flash America: It's can't. This is it. This is the last stop on the Freak Train, make sure you bring all your belongings with you and have a great day. Stand clear of the closing doors.

The show is literally a who's-who of scandalous characters, mixed in with some other also-rans who didn't make the cut the first time around. There's Toastee, the Flava of Love cast-off of obscure ethnicity who may or may not have posed nude on the internet. There's Pumkin, the venomous spitter, who will forever be remembered for her attack on I Love New York's New York, and then fled cartoonishly towards a camera, wide eyed as a 7 foot tall black bitch (who easily could've been confused for Wesley Snipes in drag) clawed her backside into ribbons.


















There's also some of the contestants from the various I Love New Yorks. Minuscule Chance, as well as all around weird white guy Mr. Boston have been resurrected to compete in ridiculous challenges that seem to be left over from last season's "Road Rules/Real World Challenge: The Gauntlet Inferno of Herpes IX".

But beneath all this lacquer is a commendable effort being made on Vh1's behalf: They're cutting through the bullshit. When I watch a marathon of episodes where a bunch of strippers vie for Brett Michael's attention, I know it's complete bullshit. No one can fall in love with someone after knowing them for three weeks, while also plotting to kill a houseful of other demented and poorly supervised strippers. The body's chemistry does not work that way, no matter how much free alcohol and coke you give these people on a daily basis. So with the veneer gone, all that's left is greedy sociopath's battling gladiator-style for our entertainment.

We've gone completely full circle from the days of the Romans- where slaves and Christians would be led out towards lions and panthers and a crowd of people would watch. The drama would be played down and the violence played up, that's really the only difference when I watch a grown man named '12 Pack' stuff floating 100 dollar bills into a tiny little pair of swim trunks on cable television.

I say bravo to Vh1 for having the balls to do what no other television network has been willing to do in ten years; call America on the bullshit of reality television, while at the same time, calling itself on it as well.

You're An Idiot, Vol 1.

Sometimes people don't know they're completely retarded. Other times, people around said idiot don't realize that person is completely inept in all facets of life, either. The latter is the case of Carlos Mencia.

So I figured that I would start breaking down ways to tell if you yourself, or someone you love, is a collossal idiot. This month: How Your Choice in Movies Makes You an Asshole.

My roommate tends to go see a lot of movies because he's only 19 and there's not much else the poor boy can do legally in these parts. As a by-product of this, he sees a lot of shitty films, only, he doesn't realize what a shitty film is.

Tell tale signs you're watching a shitty film:

-Stars Mark Walhberg in a leading role (excemption: "Boogie Nights")

-Is from "two of the six writers of 'Scary Movie'"

-A Wayans touched it.

-Star mugs for the camera every chance they get, during the preview.

What's unfortunate is that the majority of the American movie-going population falls under the same umbrella as my hapless roommate. No one really knows what a shitty movie-going experience is. Sure, they can be annoyed as they sit in the theatre by other patrons/sticky floors, but they neglect to realize that what's on the screen plays a large part in dumbing themselves down.

I pay a lot of attention to film reviews, but mostly I can just tell if a movie is going to be utter shit. I can see the preview either at the theatre, or on tv, and just know. It's hard to explain, and yes, it's just short of judging a book by it's cover, but I know when there's a film not worth my ten dollars. It has a certain stink to it; an aroma that's not unlike dead fish under a hot sun.

I've also been wrong before too, but not often. I had both written off "Gladiator" and "Ironman" as forgettable summer "blockbusters" and pleasently surprised how much I enjoyed those two films. "Gladiator" is actually one of my all time favorites. And I've missed the call too, thinking "The Kingdom" last Fall's forgetable Jaime Foxx-middle eastern terrorist cash-in pic was going to be epic, but found it was largely disappointing.

This was an actual (albeit paraphrased for these purposes) conversation I had with my roommate a few weeks ago:

RM: Dude, let's go see 'Love Guru!'

(He constantly tries to bait me into going to movies. Honestly, I feel awful that I don't go with him, but given his taste in film, I'd rather inject rat poison directly into my eyeballs)

Me: Umm, no.

RM: Why not?!

Me: Because it looks terrible, Mike Meyers is a one trick pony who thinks that because he dresses in various fat suits and costumes, he can fool movie goers into thinking he's talented and has range as an actor. His latest film only reinforces that. Except for the first Austin Powers, each one of his films to date is basically a stretched, unfunny SNL skit.

The RM gives me a blank stare.

RM: Ok, let's go see 'Meet Dave.' I know you want to see that!

And I appriciate his enthusiasm. I really do. But again, to infer that I 'want to see' 'Meet Dave', the abysmal Eddie Murphy - 'Men in Black' - Bootleg - Vehicle, is somewhat insulting.

Me: No.

Rm: Sigh, why not?

Me: Have you seen the previews of that movie?! I'm not going to subject myself to another one of Eddie Murphy's ego-tripped-tipped yawnfests. You know why all of his movies in the last ten years have starred just Eddie Murphy playing different characters? It's because no other actor in Hollywood will work with him. He's an enormous asshole, and he continues to make films that make me want to eat a bagel laced with broken shards of glass and AIDS needles.

RM: Well, I'm gonna go, peace out.

And so he goes, and sure enough, two hours later, this is what I get:

RM: Yeah bro, "Meet Dave" sucked.

In other news, I tell my roommate that the stove top is hot, he touches it, gets burned. More at 11.

Seriously though, I browse through rottentomatoes all the time, and read through the (obviously) bad reviews for some of these films I know to be bad. I don't know why I do it, I just do it. Maybe I'm reinforcing my talent for picking stinkers a mile away, or maybe I like seeing a man being kicked while he's down. Regardless, what blows me away is some of the POSITIVE reviews that are kinda sprinkled over the critics review pages for movies that should otherwised be banned from viewing.

This gem from the 'Hancock' page:

"Smith proves again, he's the king of summer blockbusters in this truly genius alt-concept of Super Hero (his caps) genre movies!" -Kit Comner, Ain't It Cool News.

Now I understand studios sometimes pay off film critics to write "good reviews" on what the studio will know to be a film DOA at the theatre. But I mean, these people look like complete assholes next to the other 97% of the critics, who were not being paid, who actually wrote down what they thought.

Only if you were say, a President of the United States, had an approval rating hovering around 26% and still thought you couldhelp the presumptive GOP candidate would you be a bigger idiot.

'Gonzo' Doc Trailer

Go see this. See it twice actually. And when it comes out on dvd, buy five copies of it.

G-Dub's Itinerary for July 8th, 2007

It's not like our current President has much to do now-a-days, since all the focus is on the up coming election. So what does he do all day? I was handed this exclusive itinerary from a confidential source. Check it out.

0945- Just wakin' up, tell Laura to get us some coffee, the Mini Page, and to let the dog out.

1030- Half-way finish my Sodoku For Kids, decide on which tie to where with what suit.

1130- Finish getting dressed, pick out blue tie with gray suit. Laura makes me put the brown shit kickers back.

1200- Send out one of the guys to get some wings from Hooters for lunch. At the same time, have Mitch in Secret Services drive by Arianna Huffinton's house all slow-like a few times. Heh-heh.

1245- Write letter on Presidential Stationary to FOX News, ask why they haven't picked up that Colbert fella from Comedy Central yet. He's good.

1315- Log on to WOW, try to build my Elf Paladin to level 75.

1555- Call up the girls, ask if they're still virgins.

1610- Walk down to the basement and see if Dick's battery needs to be changed out.

1705- Reorganize 'Top Friends' on my Myspace page, move McClellen to bottom of list!

1730- Dinner in front of tv

1845- Browse craigslist for fishing poles, new aids.

1930- Have someone explain to me what 'Katrina' was all about anyway, make plans to stand next to some sand bags in midwest flood zones for pictures.

2000- Private viewing of new Indiana Jones movie in theater, try to put moves on Laura during the boring parts.

2200- Call England, see what Tony's been up to. Rip on that new guy that took his job.

2245- Lights out, sleep with clear conscience.

I'll Take A Hot Cup Of Kharma, With Skim And Light Foam...

Honestly, when your business charges 4.00 USD for a cup of fucking coffee, no matter how fancy your despondent 19 year old employee behind the counter makes it, you're business is in line to get whacked.

Earlier last week, the (vastly inferrior, in my humblest of opinions) coffee chain Starbucks announced that for the first time in the company's history, it was going to close some of it's locations, six hundred to be exact. These closings mean that now Manhattanites will be forced to wait in line for a double mocha vanilla latte for approximately two minutes longer.

If you couldn't tell yet, I have zero fucking sympathy for the Seattle-based coffee chain. With the on-set of a recession, gas prices hovering around what some snobbish prick would pay for a cup of hi-test coffee, and the country continuing to spin around the bottom of the toilet bowl, any one could plainly see that Starbucks was fucking itself in it's Colombian-imported asshole.

According to NYT Business editor Brad Stone, alot of Starbucks' trouble stemmed from piss poor real estate decisions. Apparently, the folks at the helm of the good ship Starbucks thought it'd be a good idea to put locations within spitting distance of each other. You know, just in case the five minute waiting line was too long at one store, you could literally walk across the street to the other location, and wait five minutes over there.

I know this for a fact because I used to go to school in Manhattan's Clinton district, what used to be known as Hell's Kitchen. I would get off the subway at 57th and 7th (Q, R, N, W lines), and hoof it three blocks west and two blocks north. In that span of time, which was usually a fifteen minute walk, I would see no less than five fucking Starbucks. Two more if you counted the two inside the Time Warner building (one actual store on the ground level, another inside the Barnes and Nobles on the third floor.)

Coincidently, this is the trend that Starbucks' Board of Directors wanted to take across the country. According to Stone's article, Starbucks planned to have 1000 unit locations in the state of Florida alone. One thousand fucking Starbucks. Are you serious?!

I'm from a small town in Southern Maine, population hovering around 20K annually. I can think of three Starbucks within five minutes of each other back home. Christ.

So The New York Times' Stone thinks it's the location that drove Starbucks to kill 600 of it's own stores. It's not, though it could be seen as circumstantial evidence that would lead one to believe so. No, it's the fact that people, even the ridiculous Upper East Siders, in their lavish 39th floor 9000.00 USD a month apartments in Manhattan can no longer reasonably spend the amount of money they once were on something as frivilous as coffee. Not when you can go to any deli or sandwich shop or little cart parked on the sidewalk next to a newsstand, and get a cup of regular-ass coffee for a dollar.

All you're paying for at Starbucks is the status symbol. The ability to walk around with a cup in your hand, in a little gay sleeve, that says "hey, I can afford to drop 5 dollars on this cup of bland, watery coffee with some fucking milk foam on it." That's all. In the heirarchy of fucking coffee chains, Starbucks is the fucking lowest. It really is, as far as taste, price, employees, everything; if I had a score card for every commercial chain coffee joint I'd ever frequented, Starbucks would be dead last in all catagories.

You know, Starbucks does serve just a regular cup of coffee for about a dollar, maybe a little more. It sucks. And when you order it, as in "can I just have a plain-ass cup of coffee please?" You get a funny look from the cunt behind the register, a completely filled cup of black shit, and a finger pointing to where the cream and sugar is.

How the fuck am I supposed to work with this shit, Gretchen? You do realize that if I try to add creamer to this ... giant cup of hot blackness, I'm going to spill it all over the place, right?

And it's a horrible, terrible, burnt-to-shit French Roast.

I was subject to Starbucks for the three years I lived in NYC. For some reason, they have about a million Starbucks (also, strangely - just about a third of the people I met while living in NYC worked, or had worked for a Starbucks... weird) in the city, but only four Dunkin Donuts. So when I was pressed for coffee (and I drank a lot more of it then than I do now for some reason) and I coudn't find a small diner or deli, I had to go to Starbucks.

And while waiting in line, I'd sooner be driving a rusty nail through my cheek, to pin my tongue to my opposite cheek.

And you have these people, with their ridiculously long orders to the robot-like kid behind the counter. Some trendy bitch in a fur coat and gloves sounding off what seems like a grocery list than a coffee order:

"I'll take a decaff, skim-only, double foamed, chocolate and vanilla latte with a twist of lemon and a little bit of cinnamon. Oh, a little whip creme too!"

I understand now, why NYC has such heavy restrictions on firearms.

Back to the point at hand though, Starbucks shot itself in the foot by trying too hard. Literally like Britany Spears, Starbucks pushed itself to the point of actual implosion, caving under the weight of it's own celebrity. One could see the backlash from a mile away. How long did you think stupid Americans were going to continue to try to impress each other with cardboard cups?

How long were we going to pretend the emperor wasn't really naked and the coffee really didn't suck?

Lazy Sunday: Pic Post

Fuck it, I'm phoning it in for this article, because that's been my general state of mind this entire weekend (more on that later). So here's some pics I found around the web that I ... find... interesting, along with my comments.

Fuck my editors.

Ok, here's the first pic - Chinese commandos are preparing for the Beijing Olympics next week. Obviously China's preparing to counter terrorists with tiny machine guns and circus-like shenanigans.

Up next, why the Iraqis are failing miserably at taking over their own country's security. Hey Ahmed, you're supposed to stand BEHIND the weapon.

Next is a pic taken shortly after a tornado ravaged a Kansas country side. Don't worry, that couch in the lower right hand corner is four-wheel drive.

Lastly, what Wilford Brimley's been up to between tapings of Life Insurance commercials. Note the two kids in the background looking on in complete mortification. Baby's got back.

Buyer Beware

For the longest time I've been a huge proponent of actually paying for the music I download. I understand how incredibly stupid that sounds, when at any given time, day, place even the most inept person behind the controls of a computer (hi dad!) can find and download their favorite hits for free.

I've always had the mind set that you get what you pay for. There's a reason why the shitty "on sale" power drill is on sale, and the Makita is 300.00 USD. The same principles can be applied to Wendys and White Castle, Sony and LG, Disneyworld and Busch Gardens.

These things are better, won't break down on you, won't give you horrible spraying shits that coat the bowl is fecal spatter, and won't make your kids wonder why you're such a dead beat. The extra you're paying for is convienence, the ability to be rest assured that things are going to be ok.

So when faced spending 99% of one dollar to download a song, I don't see it as a huge deal. I've always figured that for the price of a dollar I was not paying for a song, but guarenteeing that what I was getting was a quality download of the exact song I wanted, without some dickweed teenager's trojan virus-laced coding within my copy of Busta Rhymes "Pass The Couvousier (remix.)".

But the downside to paying a dollar for a song off of iTunes is that shit adds up quick. Like the proverbial Lays Potato Chip, you can't have just one. I started to look at my credit card receipt (which I use to download music from the iTunes Store) and noticed that the bulk of my purchases from iTunes was hovering around about 10 to 15 bucks a month. And when you're dropping triple that on gas every two weeks, plus groceries, etc, it's quickly realized it's an unneeded expense.

So I started to ask around about free downloading sites or "torrents." Which ones were good, which ones to stay clear of, etc. The Lady turned me on (...) to uTorrent where you get a host of five or six other torrent sites that feed off of each other through one search. She downloaded it to my beleagured Dell laptop (I also trusted her because she was running pretty much the same programme on her beloved iMac book) and started to rob the music industry at mousepoint.

This wasn't my first foray into the world of illegally downloaded music; as mentioned before I had dabbled in this practice well before the days of iTunes. If you're reading this and are under the age of 21, you probably have no clue that Napster at one time used to be 100% free, and spawned warped and horribly virus-ridden children in the form of Morpheus, BearShare, LimeWire, etc, not unsimilar to how Gaea spawned the Greek Gods by slicing open Chronus's ballsack.

These programmes fed off the "Peer2Peer" networking system which allowed you to download files from multiple people or "sources" at once.

Have you ever been to an orgy? I have (hi mom!), and it's not as cool as you'd think it would be (if that's your thing) because it's literally a clusterfuck. People stepping all over each other, not knowing names or even faces, just literally fucking each other over to get what you want. And as we all know, unprotected sex with multiple people - as in transmitting files indiscriminately - can lead to viruses. This has always been a major concern of mine, on both the literal and figurative fronts.

So I left the "free" world of downloading music (and I say "free" with quotes because really, nothing is free, what you skimp on with cost of a download, you pay for with some Asian nerd wiping your harddrive at the price of 65.00 USD an hour) and started to pay for it. Whatever, it's only a dollar.

And there were considerable advantages to paying for the download: It didn't take literally all day (or multiple days) to finishing downloading a song or album. And when the song or album finished, you weren't left with some piss-poor quality, purposely mislabled, recorded-in-a-basement garage band/wanna-be rapper.

Nothing is more irratating than searching for Ice Cube's 1994 album "The Predator" and coming back with some cock-smoker's own personal rendition of "It Was A Good Day."

All in all I've found that using a torrent isn't that bad. I haven't had a lot of issues with the downloads, only that the reception is spotty and it takes, at it's fastest, up to an hour to download some stuff. I do miss the point-click-download-play function that made iTunes so great, along with the album art, because I'm incredibly impatient and have an ever decreasing attention span.

I'm curious to see if with gas prices going up, will iTunes do something to prevent more consumers from jumping ship as I have? Will they recognize that people in their targeted demographic (which would be iPod owners, which is virtually everyone) pass on filling their iPod in leu of filling their tanks? Someone should call up Steve Jobs and present him with this problem so that we (and by "we" I mean, Me. Capitalized. That's right.) can get the best of both worlds. Either start having gas stations hand out free iTunes gift cards with every x amount of gallons pumped, or Apple can start handing out free gas cards with every dollar amount purchased on iTunes.

It'd be win-win for everyone involved.

A Fortune Awaits Who Ever Can Tell Me Who's More Racist:

Old griseled white man Clint Eastwood, or Perpetually cranky, Knicks floor seat season ticket holder, Spike Lee.

The two acclaimed directors started mouthing off to each other over Lee's comments that Eastwood failed to place a single black actor into either one of his recent World War Two epics "Flag of Our Fathers" and "Letters From Iwo Jima."

To this, Eastwood plainly called Lee "nuts" and told him to "Shut his face."

And to that... Lee explained to the media that Eastwood was not his father and they were currently not standing on a plantation.

See, why do some people have to take it to that level? I'm not just talking about blacks, I'm talking about everyone. Because everyone does it, even we white folks are just as guilty of pulling the (reverse) race card as a black guy, Asian lady, Mexican chulo, whatever.

Anytime there's a disagreement between two people of opposite skin color, one (usually whoever's on the losing side of things) will immdiately pull the race card and throw it down like an NFL ref with a yellow flag.

An example I had the pleasure to overhear a few years ago on a Manhattan-bound Q train:

"I don't know what you're talking about dude, she's not that hot," said a white guy to his black friend.

"Why don't you think she's hot? It's because she's black, right?" Said the black friend.

"Or.. it could be because she's fifty pounds overweight and has bad skin?"

"You're saying black skin is bad skin?"

"No, I'm saying that pock marks and flakes make bad skin..."

And yet, this poor white guy couldn't win! Everything he said was being bent back around to make him look like a racist. In public.

And that's a heavy weapon to be able to weild, because no one, black or white or yellow or brown or green, likes to be a racist. ...no wait, let me rephrase that: People don't like to be thought of as racist.

It's because individually, we all are racist and revel in it. I am, you are, your sister is, and most likely the girl behind the cash register at the GAP is too. We all pass judgement on people based on appearances alone.

Take that girl at the GAP register there. I bet she swipes at least 100 credit cards in her four hour shift. For however many she swipes that come back over their limit and rejected, I almost guarentee she thinks the card owner is a deadbeat scum bag.

I'll tell you this much: I've had credit cards turned down more than once, and it's a shitty feeling to have someone come back to you like "oh hey, do you have another card, this one's rejected." And when they say it, it feels like all the people in the place you're at all collectively took a breath at the same time, so everyone heard what was said to you. It doesn't make you a bad person, just slightly irresponsible.

But back to the subject of racism: Who's the bigger racist, Clint or Spike? Clint left out black people from two of his films (though I'm sure they were filled with plenty of fucking yellow-fisted nips), and told a celebrated black director to shut the fuck up. But Lee couldn't take being told by a man, like a man, to shut the fuck up and had to make the ordeal racial in nature. No one was even thinking about racism until Lee had to bring into the conversation a plantation. Then everyone saw it as a black/white thing. A struggle of oppressed power. Here's another black man being held down by an old white man, someone will think.

The real racist is the media. And I understand that's very cliche for me to say and blame, but it's true. They blew this whole thing so far out of proporting that it's almost dispicable. So what if a white guy who's won a crap ton of Oscars tells a revolutionary black director to shut up? Spike's comments were way out from left field in the first place. I'm sure there were many brave black soldiers on the island of Iwo Jima but the story wasn't about them. It was about... Marines raising a flag and fighting for America.

Being in the military, I know, that there's no such thing as color when your life is on the line. The only thing you're thinking about when shit hits the fan is if the guy next to you is qualified or not.

More Obnoxious Than That Couple From "The Hills."

Sadly, this is a very typical conversation for us...

me: well what about the place in Yarmouth?
The Lady: no dice
bc of Cali
me: Beause of Cali?
The Lady: her cat
me: I thought they said small pets were ok?
The Lady: evidently, she lied
me: or were they talking like... fucking fish and hamsters
The Lady: fucked if i know
i'm getting a little frustrated Sent at 12:56 PM on Tuesday
me: I don't blame you
I went through this exact same thing when I was looking for a place back whenever
it sucks
like, in nyc... there's more than enough places..most of them are shitholes, but...I had a new apt lined up in a week
here it took me a month
The Lady: well...this is the cape..yea
me: the cape is ghey
The Lady: yup
me: so we had an awesome ride
absolutely awesome
I got up to 90mph
The Lady: dont tell me that
me: ok.
The Lady: ugh
me: I was NOT doing 90mph.at all.,
The Lady: and dont lie to me
me: does it count if my father lies to you as my proxy?
The Lady: yes
no
i mean
me: ...
The Lady: just dont tell me when you hit a speed that will kill you
ok?
i dont need the anxiety
me: heh, ok
The Lady: ]well
me: no no, I'm sorry, .... you're right
The Lady: you can tell me if we get married and i get benies if you die
me: but I am sitting here with the world's biggest shit eating grin.
The Lady: hahaha
me: and that's fucked up.
The Lady: what
no its not
me: so suddenly it's ok if we're married
and...I'm like "Oh, I'm going to go jump out of a plane this afternoon..."and you're like "have fun! Don't pack a chute!"and then you cackle menacingly
The Lady: well, its not like you wouldnt be slightly set if i died
unless, my dad some how manages to drain my trust fund even more by then.... Sent at 1:04 PM on Tuesday
me: so I should be encouraging you to do more vodka snooters then?"no no hunny, c'mon, like a champ!"
The Lady: if you want me to kill myself, then sure! Sent at 1:06 PM on Tuesday
me: ... no I don't
because then I'd be left with no one to impress
and I'd gain a shit-ton of weight
The Lady: i'm sure you could find someone else
me: Sure. But they wouldn't be you.
and you're all I want.
The Lady: i'll keep that in mind when i'm inspecting my food for ground up glass
me: heh... that's some prison-y shit
I saw them do that on"Oz" back in the day
The Lady: heh
me: that was a great show, if not for all the man on man butt-rape
The Lady: my buddy crash made me watch a couple episodes
he loved it
i could have cared less
me: like, it was cool an all, but... like eventually they just ran out of ideas
because honestly, how many stories can revolve around the same dudes sitting in a yard all day
The Lady: some of it was kinda disturbing
me: I mean, sure, add a new character but it's all the same
The Lady: like getting encased behind a brick wall Sent at 1:11 PM on Tuesday
me: 'hey,did you take down your profile on wordpress?
The Lady on blogger yea
me: oh. cuz my dad was just in here and wanted to see a picture of you
so I clicked over to your blog
and there's fucking... Amy Crackhouse
The Lady: thats a crap pic anyway
HAHAHA
me: and he goes "Jesus Jim!"
sigh...
The Lady: awww, i feel bad
not really Sent at 1:14 PM on Tuesday
me: oh yeah, duh, faebook
The Lady: my boyfriend everyone....hes brolliant
and i cant spell
me: yeah, pot calls kettle black, more at 11
The Lady: fuck you
me: me: Yeah, this is her facebook page...
Dad: she's cute!
Me: She's not blonde anymore...
Dad: well as long as the drapes match the carpet.......and you wonder where I get it from?
The Lady: my jaw just hit the floor
me: yeah, that's my dad.
The Lady: oi vey
me: Shhh!! Don't do that, he'll think you're jewish or something...say something catholic-y, quick
The Lady: ummmummm
me: hurry!
The Lady: a priest molested my ex boyfriend
me: ....I was going to suggest "hey, do you have anymore of those Jesus Waffers around here?"
The Lady: dont put me on the spot like that!!!!
YOU ASS
me: My ass is made of vanilla, btw
The Lady: jeff says congrats
me: on?
The Lady: keeping my interest for more than a week
he just asked who i was g chatting w
me: oh, I thought he was going to congratulate me on having a delicious ass.
The Lady: i said james, he said "wow, still? tell him congrats!"
me: tell him that I love being hung up on...because it makes me feel like a winner.
The Lady: he hung up on you?
me: well
not really
I was like "can I talk to The Lady?"
and he goes "she's busy right now"
and I go "well ok, this is Jim, can you just have her call me back?"
and there was nothing... and then click.
so I was like "well alright then, nice."
The Lady: yea
hes not too keen on pple calling me at work
when my sister calls and i dont pick up she pretneds she dialed the wrong #
me: heh
nice
ok... I'm going to attempt to load my bike before dad rips up a doob... so...I'm going to post this as a blog
and then be on my marry way
The Lady: this conversation?
me: this conversation
and I'll alter your name
The Lady: ok
me: I'll call you when I get in... or email... whatever
smoke signals
You'll know when I'm in town.
The Lady: ok love you n shit
me: roger that! Sent at 1:25 PM on Tuesday

Special DMX Two-fer

Often times I wonder if celebrities can be this stupid. Thank god there's Dark Man X to rise to the occasion and answer that question for me.

Both links are from HuffPost.

...Because no one would recognize you in a bright yellow classic car with a big yellow 'DMX' sticker on your windshield....

And

"Michael Vick's lawyer is on line two, X"

Our Country's Love of Stupid Shit

If there was one thing I enjoyed immidiately following 9/11 was that the nation took this somber tone. No one cared about scandals; cheating politicians, murderous husbands, what-who-was-putting-up-their-nose, etc. People focused again on what mattered most in life, which was community.

But almost seven years later, we've pretty much reverted back to our pre-September of 2001 ways. You can't turn on a television without seeing some celebrity leaving rehab, or watching Britnay Spears self destruct or whatever. We've folded back into the days about caring about stupid shit.

I understand that we, collectively, need a distraction from the mundane aspects of our lives. And hey, I'll browse through the entertainment section on Huffingtonpost.com once a day myself, but as a whole, we are so unbelievably fucking consumed with high amounts of talentless ridiculousness that we're practically begging Al Qaeda to blow up one of our shopping malls.

Americans love stupid shit, and it's been showing for years, and by "years" I mean since about 1971, when hippies stopped caring about the world, and started caring about cocaine. Since then, we as a nation have been inandated with such excessive bullshit that we willingly swallow it piecemeal and grin happily as we chew.

And this is how we ended up in Iraq.

Why do we give such a big shit about little shit like some hick climbing his way up the steep slope that is "American Idol?" How come everytime Lindsay Lohan leaves a Rodeo Drive couture, there's a fucking helicopter following her? ...America, we need to refocus.

There was this ad campagne when "The Sopranos" were just wrapping up; it was called "The Family vs. Your Family" as was largely featured in print ads as well as in commericals on HBO. The ad went like this: On one page you were first presented with a list of three questions pretaining to the HBO hit drama, such as "Who Shot Tony" and "What's the name of Adrianna's Club?" and so on. You'd flip the page and there'd be one question: "What's your grandfather's middle name?"

I knew more about the intricacies of a fictional crime family than I did about my own, and I think that's what the ad was getting at in a round-about way. I was stunned, as I sat on the toilet trying to think of grandfather's first name, let alone middle. I too was a victim of caring about stupid shit.

I'm not saying we should totally boycott TMZ.com or People Magazine, but we don't need the "text2phone" updates every time Paris Hilton puts on oversized sunglasses or blows some douchebag. I'm just saying that for once in this country's history, could we possibly start focusing on the important things in our lives before we're reminded about it later by the next bridge collapse or terrorist attack?