resuscitation of a hanged blog
Before we begin, let it be known that I absolutely hate Jill, the bug-eyed blonde from the Nokia commercials. I also hate the fat ugly white guy who sings along to his Dukes of Hazard ringtone - but thankfully those atrocities seem to have been phazed out. But Jill is back in part two, talking about the sanctity of her phone - the implication in the commercial is that, yes, she'll sleep with you after meeting you at the bar - God help you - but golly, it's going to take some time before she can program your number into her cellular telephone, Speedy.
This, clearly, is not what I sat down in front of Phil's laptop to type about. At least I hope that's clear, because I am aware of the perilous message that would be sent had this posting existed only for the above paragraph. But Jesus those two people are awful and should be banished from the airwaves forevermore.
Last night was fun. It began with a re-appreciation of Tool, a band I hadn't listened to on purpose in at least two or three years. Yet when the guitars began to roil and Maynard's distinct voice began to blurt - well, let's just say I still know most of the words to Aenema's collection of hits and after a few Jaegerbombs I'm not averse to proving this (perhaps unfortunate) fact. "Eulogy" in particular brought back memories of high school basketball road trips, hastily eaten Whataburgers, ripped green seats and, considering our varsity's struggles, ineptitude. Good times.
Naturally we went to Northgate. Naturally there were several friends scattered across the strip of bars, in varying states of fucked-up. The undisputed champion of these spent a few minutes in Dudley's Draw arguing with a wooden cigar store Indian - schticky to the max, yet still funny.
For posterity's sake, here follows a brief status report. The new job is going well; I've been there for almost two months, so it's probably safe to just start calling it "the job." I cover education (Stephenville ISD and Tarleton State University), crime, courts and transportation, among other things. Friday was a surprisingly rough day, full of minor frustrations and inconveniences, so I was especially happy to hit the road early that evening to come back to College Station. I had spent the previous two weekends in Stephenville, just sort of bumming around and watching the tournament. So really at this hour the last two Saturdays I would be drinking a Lone Star alone watching TV; tonight I'm doing the same, but I'm at a friend's house nearly 200 miles from my spartan apartment, waiting on friends to get off work. And there's Internet access too, the lack of which at my home has cut back on my ability to publish inane posts such as this one.
Not a lot more to say; the Bulls are getting punished at home by the Sixers, 75-49. I've been both watching more basketball and playing more basketball lately, both positive developments. It remains to be seen whether the Spurs have enough left in the tank to repeat, but happily Detroit's been looking (relatively) human lately - and they're basically shoe-ins to win the East, unless Miami or New Jersey pull off a minor miracle (or Chauncey Billups decides to retire and return to his childhood love, pitching horseshoes).
I recently put up several posters, too: Manu Ginobili dunking (from Slam), a group shot of TV on the Radio and a Silver Jews promo thing circa The Natural Bridge, I think. Also a caricature of Abraham Lincoln, who remains a hero for a wide variety of reasons.
Currently enjoying: Resuscitation of a Hanged Man by Denis Johnson; Show Your Bones from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs; the as-yet-unreleased TV on the Radio album, the title of which involves cookies; The Colbert Report; and Lone Star.
This, clearly, is not what I sat down in front of Phil's laptop to type about. At least I hope that's clear, because I am aware of the perilous message that would be sent had this posting existed only for the above paragraph. But Jesus those two people are awful and should be banished from the airwaves forevermore.
Last night was fun. It began with a re-appreciation of Tool, a band I hadn't listened to on purpose in at least two or three years. Yet when the guitars began to roil and Maynard's distinct voice began to blurt - well, let's just say I still know most of the words to Aenema's collection of hits and after a few Jaegerbombs I'm not averse to proving this (perhaps unfortunate) fact. "Eulogy" in particular brought back memories of high school basketball road trips, hastily eaten Whataburgers, ripped green seats and, considering our varsity's struggles, ineptitude. Good times.
Naturally we went to Northgate. Naturally there were several friends scattered across the strip of bars, in varying states of fucked-up. The undisputed champion of these spent a few minutes in Dudley's Draw arguing with a wooden cigar store Indian - schticky to the max, yet still funny.
For posterity's sake, here follows a brief status report. The new job is going well; I've been there for almost two months, so it's probably safe to just start calling it "the job." I cover education (Stephenville ISD and Tarleton State University), crime, courts and transportation, among other things. Friday was a surprisingly rough day, full of minor frustrations and inconveniences, so I was especially happy to hit the road early that evening to come back to College Station. I had spent the previous two weekends in Stephenville, just sort of bumming around and watching the tournament. So really at this hour the last two Saturdays I would be drinking a Lone Star alone watching TV; tonight I'm doing the same, but I'm at a friend's house nearly 200 miles from my spartan apartment, waiting on friends to get off work. And there's Internet access too, the lack of which at my home has cut back on my ability to publish inane posts such as this one.
Not a lot more to say; the Bulls are getting punished at home by the Sixers, 75-49. I've been both watching more basketball and playing more basketball lately, both positive developments. It remains to be seen whether the Spurs have enough left in the tank to repeat, but happily Detroit's been looking (relatively) human lately - and they're basically shoe-ins to win the East, unless Miami or New Jersey pull off a minor miracle (or Chauncey Billups decides to retire and return to his childhood love, pitching horseshoes).
I recently put up several posters, too: Manu Ginobili dunking (from Slam), a group shot of TV on the Radio and a Silver Jews promo thing circa The Natural Bridge, I think. Also a caricature of Abraham Lincoln, who remains a hero for a wide variety of reasons.
Currently enjoying: Resuscitation of a Hanged Man by Denis Johnson; Show Your Bones from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs; the as-yet-unreleased TV on the Radio album, the title of which involves cookies; The Colbert Report; and Lone Star.
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