Hammer don't play that

According to Too Legit: The MC Hammer Story:
- MC Hammer and the owner of the Oakland A's were tight friends.
- MC Hammer used to rap while preaching. His wife told him he should start making music if that is what he wants to do most.
- MC Hammer recorded his first album in what looked like a wet suit.
- MC Hammer, while a bat boy for the aforementioned A's, said God told him he was going to be big-time during a three-run homer.
- MC Hammer was with Tupac the night he got shot, but sensed something sinister and decided to stay in for the night. Hammer could've been hurt that night.
- MC Hammer recorded a song that repeatedly said, "We like girls with pumps and a bump, pumps and a bump, pumps and a bump!"
- During the video for the song mentioned above, MC Hammer was wearing a speedo.
- Said video was recorded at MC Hammer's house.

Don't go see Year of the Dog

I saw Year of the Dog last night and I still don't know what the hell.

This is the second time I've come to this part of town without my nunchucks

Dear readers, haters, and betsys-

Remember that little stretch in December/earlyJanuary where I didn't post many blogs? Well, it was on account of me not being in school. We are, together (forever), about to embark on what could be a similar, albeit longer, stretch. One of the downfalls - the only downfall as far as I'm concerned - of summer vacation is a lack of access to the I (my pet name for the Internet).

Don't give up hope, though. I plan to purchase me a computer sometime soon. I'm pretty rich these days. When/if that happens, so will blogs. In fact, it could yield more blogs than ever before.

So, continue to talk bad about what has become of this blog. I don't mind. Just know that your protests won't force much change. They won't fall on deaf ears, because I will probably enjoy them, but I can only do what is possible.

I love you. Do you love me? Let's talk more.

Sincerely,

sugarcube

Why I'll pass on the strawberry shortcake, 25 words or less

I don't like strawberries or whip cream, and why would I eat cake without frosting?

This is what domestic disputes look like

This happened a few blocks away from my work, so I took a picture with my new phone on my way to school. I think it's pretty awesome, you should check it out. I heard it had to do with a domestic dispute, but the story says the motive is not yet known.

(click on the picture to see a larger version)

I value you, but I want to violate you.

Don't stop reminding me that you were linked to my blog before I messed crud up or letting me know that you would like to be linked.

So, I got a new cellular phone the other day. It isn't brand new, per se, but it is new to me. You see, I had a Nokia (hardcore phones), but some of the major buttons weren't working (the 3, the 5, the space) up to their maximum capacity. I shared my dismays with the general public and I got someone's old RAZR out of it. This means that for once in my life, I have a camera phone. I know you might be sick of me posting pictures of myself, but I'm still enjoying posting pictures of myself, so here are some more:

(This was the first picture I ever took with my new phone)

Don't stop reminding me that you were linked to my blog before I messed crud up or letting me know that you would like to be linked.

Problem solving skills

I was just fooling around and changed my template, and apparently that means that you lose all of your links. So, I need to be reminded of whose blogs I was linked to. Please respond by saying, "I."

Or, hope that I can find your blog by other means.

A photo journey: Mexico? No, Seattle

A few weeks ago, Lisa (No Doy, Professional Leisure Magazine) and I hit the road to see our beloved Nathaniel J. and CindyMindyPindy F. in Seattle. Here is our trip, in picture form. I'm sure you will find it as inspiring as it is long.
(captions correspond to photo beneath them)

The road to Seattle is long and merciless, so music is needed. Here's me trying to figure out why my version of TLC's "No Scrubs" doesn't have T-Boz's rap. (I have since purchased the rap version ["Let me give you something to think about. Inundate your mind with intentions to turn you out."])

The sun was shining on April the 4, so we needed our shades.
And we needed to look rad.

When we finally made it, I wanted to see how I looked with Seattle.
Look how cute and chubby I've become.

Nathaniel is shocked at how that car was able to drive straight through us. I was kind of mad it even tried.

Mullets are not funny. They are pretty.

After a morning of sleeping in, Lisa introduced me to The Dish. We each took time to have a photo shoot there. Photo's take by me.
Lisa's: (the following is the look I get everytime I say something stupid)

(the below inspired today's blog title)

Mine:

Then, we did close-ups.

After lunch, we drove by the famous Lusty Lady to see their latest genius marquee. I refuse to tell you what the words on the other side were.
Did you ever see that recurring bit on MadTV called "Lowered Expectations"?
This reminded me of it.Doing a drive-by of Jimi Hendrix and the Jr. Donnas

We eventually had to leave. Nathaniel decided to not get dressed up. Cindy did, and she even made us Easter treats, moving her up my personal social ladder.
My favorite thing about Seattle was the electronic 20 Questions game that Cindy had. One time I was thinking of poop and it guessed it.
I like it more than a friend.
Lisa got jealous and pretended to hate 20Q. She later reconciled and bought me my own for here in Utah.
We made sure to take about two hours to leave Seattle. First was a stop at Trader Joe's where I bought dried cranberries and saw some gross lady's crack. Then, we ate at the place Lisa used to go instead of going to seminary: Lil' Johns. I wanted to get more text messages during the drive home than Lisa, so I took the time that we were waiting for our food to send out messages to cool folks that said something like: "I hope your Easter is EGG-cellent." Most people didn't respond until late into the night.
Lisa freaked out while remembering how big Lil' John's pancakes are.
I looked her square in the eye and said (while simultaneously taking another self-portrait), "You can eat it. I believe in you."
You can understand her trepidation.
We finally made it home at 3 a.m., the last few hours were scary because I kept falling asleep. I also missed an exit while we were in Idaho.

60 years ago yesterday

George Will wrote this great article about the historical significance of Jackie Robinson.

I am a rock, but I am no island

The single greatest picture ever taken of me:



(taken last night by Lisa W., whose hotness is matched only by her niceness. This picture grosses her out.)

Welcome to my world, part 2

I was listening to the Nightside Project last night and they had this nutritional or something expert on. He said, "...bone or joints....", but at first it sounded like "..boner joints" to me.

Pants-off Dance-off

I recently found out that people have go-to comfort items. Comfort foods, comfort movies, comfort books for example. To be straight with you, I don't know if anyone has comfort books, it just seems that three examples makes something more legitimate than two. Anyhoo, I realized that I don't I don't have any comfort stuffs. When I told the comfort items teller that I don't, they asked if I am ever sad and what I do when I am. At this point, I realized that I need to be sad more. I did think of a time I was sad almost two months ago and for comfort all I did was lay on a couch with a blanket staring at the ceiling. How light-weight is that?

My lack of comfort stuff bothered me more than my lack of sadness, even though sadness seems to be all the rage these days. I wanted a go-to comfort thing something fierce. I thought about maybe a song, and to my luck "F___ you, Aurora" by Alkaline Trio came up on my pod. I decided that was more of an anger song, and conveniently I had some anger and dedicated that song right there on the spot. Anger: eased. Impending sadness: without comfort.

My search for a comfort movie began and ended during the thought process. I just couldn't think of anything.

Reading books? Not for me. Comfort food? I want fried chicken to be eaten only when I am at my happiest. Same for every other food I like. Then I thought that maybe I would starve myself for comfort, but that sounded too much like my laying-on-the-couch-looking-at-the-ceiling approach. I was almost to the point where I was sad because I didn't have anything to accompany me in my sadness. What a trip, albeit confusing, that would have been.

Fortunately, before my lack of comfort for my sadness begat sadness, I found it: a comfort television show. Pants-off Dance-off (PODO) to be more specific.

Not much of a description is needed beyond the title, but here's one anyway. Common people - and by 'common people' I mean people who say they are actors/models, burlesque dancers, and the rare professional wrestler - dance and strip while a music video (of their choosing, I reckon) plays in the background. I think a good use for those blue screens weather(wo)men stand in front of has finally been found. Instead of strippers, the people taking off their clothes are call PANCERS. This makes it easy for one friend watching the show can say to the another, whether face-to-face or via text message, "Which pancer do you think should win?" Their opinion, as convicted as it may be, is moot, though. Such a show is not left to amateurs to decide the outcome. This isn't American Idol. No, it is decided by people who would know a good pancer from a bad pancer. Who are these giants of the social landscape of this good/sometimes great nation? Strippers. Honey and Precious, to be exact. Sometimes, the talents of Honey and Precious are even put to use. For instance, maybe a pancer has hit a dull spot in their pancing routine. Show host(ess) Willa Ford (season three host; a little research shows that season two was hosted by none other than Jodie Sweetin) calls out, "Dance Off!" and the screen splits and one of the esteem judges appears next to the pancer and gives a ten second demonstration on how to get it done. Other times, Willa Ford will see a sub-par aspect of a pancers' dance and will call for Honey or Precious to do it better. Once, a dancer did a bad booty tease and Ford wasted no time in asking for a demonstration on how to do a respectable booty tease.

Throughout the pancing, the pancer will share tidbits about themselves. Where they came from, what their day job is, what made them get into getting naked, et cetera and so forth. This does more than put a personality on that nakeder-by-the-minute person, it provides for a good laugh. Willa Ford doesn't shy away from being the one who provides that laugh. One pancer was particularly fond of her her butt and mentioned that she can hold a waterbottle in between her cheeks. Ford appeared on the screen and said, "She can hold a water bottle in butt?" then she gave a slow clap of respect. Sometimes/oftimes, the joke is the pancer themselves. One dancer was named GiGi and was wearing a Star Wars outfit, but Lisa's brother (via text message [she told him about the show upon our discovery of it and he went straightway to his TV set in Portland and started watching]) pointed out that she looked like she was in the KKK. As a side note, it took her forever to take the KKKape off. When she finally did, she had the outfit that Princess Leia wore for Jabba the Hutt. A nerd fantasy, right? Too bad she took so long to get to that point because she was only in it for about 30 seconds before she had to take off her top and the censor popped up and ended her session.

I've said too much. I don't mean to get all Reading Rainbow, but don't take my word for it. Watch it on FUSE or watch these:

I mean, look how good she is.

So what'cha what'cha what'cha want

from me?

Mom

My mom TMI'd me today.

I was sitting on the couch, she was on the chair and I was was explaining that my recent symphony was brought on by something weird going on in my stomach. She just looked at me and said, "T...M...I...".

Roast on the family.

Sometimes, every once in a while

You know how old people say, "Money doesn't grow on trees!"? Have you ever thought to yourself, "Technically, it does. Money is printed on paper and paper comes from trees...."?

Yeah, I had that thought when I was in third grade too.

This is what democracy looks like, this is what democracy sounds like

In Hoosiers, the best basketball player in the town is Jimmy Chitwood. He stopped playing on the high school team right when a new coach (Norman Dale) was coming into town. This coach, played by Gene Hackman, bless his heart, is different from the former coach, much to the chagrin of the townfolk, bless their hearts. They hold a meeting to vote on whether or not to oust Coach Dale. Despite his best efforts, the upfront Coach Dale, bless his heart, was unable to get Jimmy Chitwood to suit up for the team. During this town meeting, after the votes had been placed but before the results had been announced, Jimmy Chitwood, bless his heart, walked into the meeting and said, "I have something to say." Jimmy Chitwood was given silence and he said, "I think it's time I start playing ball again." He then said that he would only do so if Coach Dale was kept as the head coach. He was, Jimmy played, and Hickory High beat the big boys.

Likewise, I have decided to put aside my differences with the world and start dropping blogs again. Should I say it? If only for dramatic effect? Would it give you goosebumps? Should I? Okay. I think it's time for me to start writing blogs again.

Let me get sidetracked for a few. Hoosiers is a good movie about high school sports. Want to know of a good television show about high school sports? Friday Night Lights. Dislike football? Well, lucky for you, it's about more than high school football. The movie it was based on (which was based on a book) is good, but the show is even better. I might spend more time on this, but HB Cliff did such a great job over at Replikate that I won't waste my time blatantly copycatting her. Subtle copycatting? I probably will still.

Just because I ripped Jimmy Chitwood's line doesn't mean this blog will have the same results as Hickory High's basketball team. In fact, you can count on quite the opposite. This blog has never been about high-achieving anyway. It's not how it do. Also, the reason I haven't written isn't deep or anything interesting. It is two-fold: 1) My brain hasn't been in the blogging place and even if it was, 2) I haven't been around the I (aka the Internet) enough to drop anything.

Anyhoo......

MY NEW BEST FRIEND?
Jeff Rosso has been coming around again. He stopped into work a few weeks ago and we chatted it up again. He's really excited about my move to the big city and when I told him I was studying journalism, he said, "You're my hero. That's what I wanted to do." I responded, "You're my hero." It wasn't as creepy as it sounds. Anyway, on Tuesday as I was leaving work to go to escuela I saw him at the coffee place across the street and last night as I was leaving I saw him walking down 2100 south. I pulled up to him and offered a ride, but he politely declined. That setback aside, I think our friendship grows stronger every week.

MUSIC/FOOD
I had the pleasure of finally seeing Say Hi To Your Mom last weekend. It's about d__n time, if you ask me. I've been perving a dish on them for nigh unto two years now and they take the time to come here at least three times a year. I like them a lot. Seriously. A few months ago, I made a girl a mix of my current three favorite bands. Who made the list? Yo La Tengo, Pavement, and, yep, Say Hi To Your Mom (if you buy one album, make it Numbers and Mumbles).

The show was great. For once in my life, I wanted the band to play more songs. Usually, my dislike of standing around beats my like of the band. They did a really good job of playing most of the songs I really wanted to hear.

That night wasn't over after the show, though. Me and Maren, bless her heart, made a wise move by heading straightway to Big Daddy's Pizza. She only ate one slice, but bought me a drink. Somehow, that worked out to be a fair deal. It's no Este, but the pizza there incredible. One can purchase a 14-incher for the small price for $6.99. "Not quite as good a deal as a Hot and Ready," you might be thinking and/or saying. "True," I'd say if I were right next to you. "But, as good as the ol' Hot and Readys are (providing they are, in fact, both hot and ready), this pizza is in a much higher class." It would be unfair to Domino's, Little Caesar's, Papa John's and Pizza Hut to compare them to it. Trust me. After pizza, we went to a hip-hop show at a joint called Johnny's on 2nd with Kung-Fu Chris, bless his heart, where we danced the pizza off. Well, Maren did. I ate too much to be burned off in one dance-a-thon.

The bands I have been listening to the most over the last few days are:
Dandy Warhhols - remember this? My mind might have changed
Le Tigre - inspired this blog's title
Marvin Gaye - This one popped up only last night because I saw a clip of an American Idol contestant who dedicated "Let's Get It On" to his dad on Best Week Ever. I hate American Idol and have boycotted it for four years now, but if stuff like this and Katharine McPhee keep happening I might have to reconsider my cause. Anyway, I listened to Marvin Gaye as I showered today. I recommend it.

HUMOR
Do you find the following funny?
Good Afternoon. I trust you had a good President's Day weekend. Hope you took some time to think about Mr. Lincoln and Washington. You know they were both 6'4"?!? Reminds me of some musings I have...

Old Honest Abe was a good man. Freed the slaves, kept the Union together, and could give a speech worthy of any Fourth of July. I read somewhere where the man said, " Towering genius disdains a beaten path. It seeks regions hitherto unexplored." Well, that's fine with me. I'm not going to argue with The Great Emancipator. Towering geniuses can wander where they will, but those neighbor kids better stay off my lawn!

I cannot tell a lie, I've chopped down a few trees in my time. No, no, I'm no George Washington. The Father of our Country didn't chop down that cherry tree because his boss Mr. Benson told him to. He did it because it was there. And that's what makes him great. Why, if a man with a bit of spare time on his hands looks at a cherry tree and says "I'm going to chop that down," then it only stands to reason that he will look at tyranny and say "Yessir, I'm going to chop that down too." And Mr. Washington was man enough to do both.

When I was real young I once heard FDR say over the radio that "We have nothing to fear but fear itself." He was a good man. Gave hope to a country that was pretty low and did as fine a job running the United States as any many without healthy legs could do. But I bet if FDR lived today he would say, "We have nothing to fear but fear itself and identity theft."

I just don't think it's right to take another man's name...

That reminds me, I have to be getting inside now...

then send an email to dailymusingsemail@gmail.com and say something like, "I want in." Be as anonymous as you want, I think. You'll get one of these a day, excluding weekends. Nobody muses on the weekends. Weekends are the things musers muse about.

TELEVISION
This blog has served its purpose and has gone on way too long, so I will limit this section to telling you to start watching America's Next Top Model.

Look-a-like contest

Repentence

For reasons, I have been thinking a lot about apologies lately. Sometimes, apologies can be swift resolutions to situations, sincere or not. Other times, apologies are only the beginning of the resolution. These apologies are the most painful for both the apologizer and the apologizee. The apologizee because something horrible has occured at their expense. The apologizer, because they caused the horrible occurance and they wish they could undo it, but they can't. These apologies are often met with verbal forgiveness, but the real forgiveness comes over time as the person who apologizes proves they are truly apologetic. Until then, both sides of the apology are in this weird state where they both feel crappy about they who had to apologize. It's also strange how much sincerety hurts sometimes.

Anyway, I'm sorry to you. I probably will be for awhile. In a way, I guess I will be forever.
Thanks for your forgiveness.
I'll stop now.

Know who I've been thinking a lot about lately? Cybill Shepard.

This brain is out of practice

On the side bar on page 52 of the January 26 edition of Entertainment Weekly is a "Ask The Critic" section answered by Owen Gleiberman.

Q - What do you think has driven the recent on-slaught of zombie films? Do they tap a current fear or is the genre just a cyclical thing? - Vincent

A - When George A. Romero's Night of the Living Dead came out in 1968, it didn't just give birth to all those relentless flesh-eating gouls; it gave rise to a hundred metaphors. The image of clawing, lumbering corpses chomping on the innards of the living was said to express the madness of Vietnam, and then - 11 years later, in Dawn of the Dead - it became a blood-red satire of consumerism. (Where would college pop culture departments be without George A. Romero?) The revival of zombie films certainly reveals that the genre is cyclical, yet its meaning, I'd argue, has slowly leaked away. Yes, 28 Days Later tweaked our fear of disease, and the inspired Shaun of the Dead lampooned Britain as a nation of zombified couch potatoes, but in Romero's Land of the Dead (2005) and 2004's Dawn of the Dead remake, the living dead expired as vital symbols. They were just monsters.

Interesting, but I think Gleiberman is selling Land of the Dead short. Sure, it was shoddy as far as zombie movies go, but I'm not so sure it didn't have a "metaphor" to it. In the movie, the rich business man of the city (played by, bless his heart, Dennis Hopper) ruled the city with his money and turned the city pretty evil. The zombies lived in the outskirts of town, and some lower-class people were given the job to go kill them and get supplies. Anyway, the zombies end up making their way to the city. The people of the city were ready, surrounding the city with a wide man-made body of water. But, the zombies broke one of the chief rules of zombie movies and walked in water that was over their head to the city. This could show that things in the world have gotten to the point where rules don't stop anyone from doing what they truly want to do. Then, at the end of the movie, those who survived the attack had to leave the city to the rule of the zombies and find another place to live. This might signify the lack of control the good guys have.
Or, maybe Gleiberman is right. I've never been great at discerning movie metaphors.

I know. I've missed posting about zombies as much as you have missed reading my posts about zombies.