The 'Pasty Faced Three' Reunite! Another Album in the Works?

Of the closeknit friends of circumstance there are the high school friends, the guys from your dorm, and the friends from the first job. The friends of those friends are great, and the friends you make at your second or third job are nice. But the friends of friends are more selected, and by your later jobs you start caring about the work and you don't necessarily want to get soused with the folks at the office or relentlessly talk shit about your employer. And soon enough people aren't sleeping around so that means there aren't nearly as many stories to tell.

Anyways, the one on the right opened her autobiographical play last night, and it was amazing. It was just beautiful to see a part of her life we all saw in real time get dramatized, especially just as the one in the middle is headed to a less-reliably-blue state to start an exciting job. And me, of course: I have a car and a baby, and I may have drank whiskey last night but I'm eating Jenny Craig today. It was nice to be filthy again last night, because there are just fewer and fewer places to tell a nice sodomy joke every year you get older.

Anyways, the photo does not lie. We three are that white, and I think each of us have a bit of the sentimental nature you often find around the British Isles. So if I'm maudlin about the departure of the one in the middle, I at least have the knowledge that I'm probably not the only one.

Baby Loves the Horror

We read to Bug to get her to sleep: Right now we're wrapping up the story of a botched rape accusation in Alabama, and today I came home to find an Amazon box I didn't remember ordering.

Well, fuck. My old buddy Mike wrote a book about the worst thing, the worst time, most of us can imagine.

It's odd to be put down Mike's requiem and start beating out the cadence of Wayne Fontana's "Game of Love" on belly. But Bug digs the oldies music, and when she squeaks the book goes down. Sometimes she can be entertained by the sound of a story, sometimes she needs more. This is the only way anything gets read around here: bit by bit, between intervals of shushing or shitchanging.

Congrats and condolences, Mike. The best dedication I can offer is to read your story to my kid.

"I Take It Back, That Is the Cutest Thing In My Life"

So says Damn Wifus, about this:



Don't tell baby. (Via)

Quickstuff Has Camera Skills

Thanks, sir.

The Phrase That Pays

Eddie Johnson on Starbury:

I played in Europe and if you think they will accept a me-first attitude over there, please don’t go. I guarantee you will find out what a heated up coin feels like when it connects with your head.

WWTDD commenter Optimus Poon:

Looks like she was whacked in the ass with a bag of hot nickels.

Be sure to pass it around at recess before someone else does. (h/t)

From Afar, The Geek Pined Unendingly For Your Grandma

Writing the music paper that's gonna kill me -- about how to make a nice non-superstar middle class life while playing music -- and came across the exact same geek theme in songs from the 2000s and the 1920s.

First music video: A couple of regular-looking guys fronted by Todd Burge, who are covering a song from the 1920's.

The relevant bit run up to the 2:00 mark: The video and the song tell a beautifully simple story about the woman who comes to town "to work on the telephone," which was the height of modernity at the time.

While Lady Lovelylocks sets to work, the song's shy narrator just pines and paces in the background, fantasizing about the perfect life he could have if she would just abandon the damned phone company and run off with him.


(Thanks to John Radcliffe for pointing me Burge's way.)

And then here's this new video for Jonathan Coulton's "Codemonkey," about a computer programmer making puppy dog eyes at the office admin. It's a wonderful song, but now that it's been set to japanime, it's just spooky good.

(Thanks to Coulton's blog for pointing out the new vid.)

I guess even when you're writing about technology, you have to work some sex -- or at least sexual frustration -- into the mix if you want people to care.

Monday Morning Music

We moved across the street and the peeps came over to and drink in the new back yard. I was talking to one of them when I heard Muggins say Waylon Jennings was coming to New York.

I was temporarily joyed to find a fellow fan of anti-Nashville country. But, long (familiar) story short: she was speaking of the Wailin' Jennies, who are coming to town in September.

I like the Jennies as soon as The Watcher brought 'em up, but woe to me, I am still without a friend (north of the Mason Dixon) with which I can clink glass of bourbon and savor a boom-chicka-boom bass line.

In an attempt to rectify that, I'm presenting two exemplary ladypicker tracks (one from Mugs) and two tracks by the only kind of men who might maybe be worthy of said ladypickers' company.

8 tracks

Music from:
1. Quinn
2. Gyv
3. Quinn
4. Godwin
5. Sewanee
6. Bro
7. Sewanee
8. Boogie

Touche,