godthedog

madonna - true blue billy joel - 52nd street mariah carey - s/t i was feeling poppy and nostalgic tonight.

darius has a cool little eddie-vedder-plus-southern-twang voice, which makes hootie slightly better. gin blossoms had decent singles and a jangly sound, which makes them at least more distinctive. i have a semi-soft spot for barenaked ladies' brainless fun, but i could never defend them. they are indeed SIGNIFICANTLY better than third eye blind or goo goo dolls. and deep blue something.

veruca salt, letters to cleo, sponge, our lady peace, the nixons, toad the wet sprocket, even spacehog were all better.

no.

i got the chance to check out a couple episodes of alley's new show. it's not bad, if a little too obvious a 'curb your enthusiasm' ripoff. normally if you want to make a joke, you're supposed to make some kind of sly offhanded reference to her being a piece of shit without really coming out and SAYING it. there's no wit in just stating the obvious.

i always preferred "wax ecstatic." catchier, and had more balls to it.

last night, rented the bootleg from kim's on the corner: '2046' thumbs up, cheap pop and whatnot.

something similar happened to me. i had the alarm on the other side of the room (to keep from just hitting the snooze bar and rolling over, so that i'd have to GET UP to turn it off), it woke me up, i bolted right out of bed. except both of my legs were completely numb, so they promptly buckled under my weight and i fell flat on my face, 3 feet from the alarm.

the waiters and bartenders are generally actors. at least where i live.

^even better.

21 year olds without residence are not "homeless." they are "struggling artists."

the shower scene in 'psycho', easily. nothing else even comes close. runner-up: darth vader being luke's father lots of people would probably count rosebud, but i don't think it's THAT well-known. if you stop a random person on the street, they probably wouldn't know what it is, and when i watched 'kane' for the first time i didn't know.

they got really sucky after 'throwing copper'. their last single about god and ed's kid and whatnot never fails to trigger my gag reflex.

he's a fifty-year-old computer programmer who's got his own peter pan website, where he elaborately sets up pictures of himself in peter pan garb flying around and whatnot. www.pixieland.org. he has his own merchandise too, you can actually buy a t-shirt with his picture on it that says "be a pixie!" above it, for only $25. i highly recommend you go to the fashion page and click on the "bunny boi" pictures. he also has a personals page, listing the many traits he's looking for in a potential female mate (or his "tinkerbell," as he calls it).

i have a big soft spot for 90s alternaradio, and i never even owned this album. i may pick it up this week.

i just recently saw this for the first time. HOLY FUCK is it a great movie.

i'd jerk off in bed really loudly right now just to get back at him if i wasn't so turned off.

the night before i have to wake up early to fly to chicago, my roommate decides to bring a girl over. it's a studio apartment, so we have to share one big living space, which means his private time gets put into my immediate perceptions. i just spent the last hour trying to sleep while they made out on the futon. i can still hear what they're doing right now. i can smell it in the damn room.

the acting is grating with all the terribly fake laughter. scenes wander, lose their place, go on forever. movies made in that style are supposed to hit you with how "real" or "true" they seem, but the whole thing felt really staged and artificial to me. i don't like cassevetes's characters, and i don't think they're interesting enough to warrant dozens of interminable scenes to study the way they behave and the way they react. it's really a pretty superficial movie. cassevetes was obsessed with surfaces and not much else. as such, each scene just pretty much is what it is, and the scenes don't really fit together to create some kind of meaningful whole. it's just kind of there.

of course it is, you're learning a craft. if it's a production-heavy major, you learn how to set up a camera and shit. if it's a studies-heavy major, you learn how to write academic word-porn. somebody told me about a recent new york times article titled "is film studies the new MBA?" i responded "i hope not, i don't want these stupid practical-minded motherfuckers crowding up my major."

i don't see what the big deal is about 'the basement tapes'. it's pretty fun, and there's a nice little spontaneous spirit running through it, but the songs aren't fantastic or anything and it doesn't really hold up over 80 minutes.

coltrane had the best song titles ever.

these instructions are in japanese, i can't read them.

somehow i've gotten really good at the act of jokey flirting with my classmates, but it's absolutely impossible for me to read people and i have no idea if any of them are ever actually interested. a few weeks ago i was drinking with this girl & some other friends and she got really drunk & affectionate (like getting me to nestle my head against her breasts for an inordinate period of time). i walked her home, she invited me in for some water, we talked on her couch till 4 in the morning and she said i was free to stay at her place for the night, and i still didn't make a single move. i slept in the bed of a roommate who wasn't there that night, in the room next to hers. i had a crush on her 5 or 6 months ago & asked her out on a date and she turned me down, so the whole night i was terrified of making any move for fear of being rejected again. i've since found that the solution to this is hanging with girls who aren't my classmates. we're a pretty close-knit group, and i'm more afraid of rumors getting circulated than the actual rejection. these are people i'll probably have to work with for the rest of my life, and i don't want to get painted as the "guy who repeatedly gets rejected by other members of the group." i'm more eager with girls i know randomly than those inside the circle. EDIT: oh, forgot to mention the "get whipped cream sprayed in your mouth and get it into the other person's mouth" game that was played before i took her home that night. the stupid junior high sexual tension game. and i still didn't make a move.