anybody have any friends in the greater boston area who (might) need a room for the next year (or part of the year) (assuming i can find an apartment that requires me to have another roommate)? i (might) have a room i need to fill for $550/month plus utilities (or some completely different amount). leave a note in comments and i’ll get (purely hypothetical) details to you somehow.
it's a long story. suffice it to say that landlords are a demented subspecies of human (distantly related to the greedius ceo-us that terrorizes american boardrooms. they exist solely to wring every last cent from us tenants by raising rents, making empty promises, and doing their damnedest to stamp out all that is good and decent in this world.
my current (soon to be ex-) landlord rented my apartment out from under my roommate and i back in boston, an event i only recently heard about. now i'm scrambling from many miles away to find a replacement place that is agreeable. my roommate and our tentative third roommate are doing their best as well--resulting in yesterday's aborted lease-signing/celebration/sigh of relief--and i have no doubt we'll find something sooner or later. it's still stressful though, especially so given the fact that i don't really want to live with either of them.
my dream is to have my own place, a studio or a one-bedroom apartment, all to myself. don't get me wrong, i'm a fine roommate and i have no real complaints about the people i've lived with. i just don't want to do it anymore. i'm sick of other people's dishes, other people's friends, other people's furniture, and having to ride herd on people to pay their damn share of the cable bill. but sky-high boston rents and crippling unemployment seem to indicate that i have no real choice in the matter. keep your fingers crossed though, august is a long month, and something good might still happen.
7.31.2006
the big mo
check it out! the real-life version of ari from entourage thinks boycotting mad max’s ass is a grand idea! thanks ari, with you and me in this together, there’s no telling how far we can take it. just make sure that adrian grenier plays me in the movie. he looks like a mensch.
taking a stand!
things i won’t do:
that’s it. everything else is fair game.
- as outlined below, watch cnn ever again, due to their reporting on the coming armageddon as if it were news. good job, guys. as a news source, you’ve achieved the level of trust and journalistic acumen that i usually expect from x-men comics and those larouche pamphlets that the straight-edge kids hand out in harvard square.
- you may have heard of this guy mel gibson. way back when, he filled out a pair of tights real nicely and once he even went against his mercenary ways and helped a band of post-apocalyptic survivors fend off roving marauders. those were the days. now he denies the holocaust and blames the jews for making him drink and drive. and for starting all those wars. that were actually started by evangelical christians. just like mel (catholic, whatever). anyway, i’m done with this clown—no more mel gibson movies. in fact, the first thing i’m doing when i get back to boston is microwaving my road warrior dvd! now, that’s consumer retribution!
- drink miller high life. also explained below, this piss was vile even back when it was all i could afford. now, i may be broker than ever, but my standards continue to rise (like inflation!) and at the ripe old age of 25, i can confidently proclaim that i will never force this swill down my craw again! bring on the miller lite!
that’s it. everything else is fair game.
7.28.2006
good move, give the crazies a megaphone
fuck! i’m never watching cnn ever again. 
you hear me, time warner? never! i’m an msnbc viewer from here on out, no matter how cute anderson cooper is or how many times he has angelina jolie on his show, or how many times soledad o’brien says she thinks I’m hot. fucking forget it! you can’t put shit like this on the air!
that's just how soledad shows her love --->
you hear me, time warner? never! i’m an msnbc viewer from here on out, no matter how cute anderson cooper is or how many times he has angelina jolie on his show, or how many times soledad o’brien says she thinks I’m hot. fucking forget it! you can’t put shit like this on the air!
that's just how soledad shows her love --->
there goes my screenplay idea
the someday café really is closing this time. and sooner rather than later. that’s kinda sad, despite what i said before. i don’t even like mr. crêpe, and it sounds like they were steamrolled by developmentophiles and a cocksucker landlord.
not that there’s anything surprising about that. if there’s a single landlord in boston who isn’t a cocksucker*, i’d be glad to shake his/her hand.
when i first wrote about it, i figured it would be like in empire records, and through a very watchable combination of pluck and short skirts they’d turn it all around, possibly by baking brownies or inviting scul over to shake down the fatcats or waging guerilla war on artbeat. so much for life imitating art. at least i can still go to diesel to play pool/get sneered at for my hopeless corporatism.
now i’m just depressed.
*quick disclaimer about cocksucking. i’m all for it--i don’t care who you are or whose cock you’re sucking, i think it’s fan-fucking-tastic. really, knock yourself out. i just think it’s a completely, awesomely useful word. james lipton, if you’re reading this, one question down, nine to go!
not that there’s anything surprising about that. if there’s a single landlord in boston who isn’t a cocksucker*, i’d be glad to shake his/her hand.
when i first wrote about it, i figured it would be like in empire records, and through a very watchable combination of pluck and short skirts they’d turn it all around, possibly by baking brownies or inviting scul over to shake down the fatcats or waging guerilla war on artbeat. so much for life imitating art. at least i can still go to diesel to play pool/get sneered at for my hopeless corporatism.
now i’m just depressed.
*quick disclaimer about cocksucking. i’m all for it--i don’t care who you are or whose cock you’re sucking, i think it’s fan-fucking-tastic. really, knock yourself out. i just think it’s a completely, awesomely useful word. james lipton, if you’re reading this, one question down, nine to go!
7.27.2006
come to dc, you'll be in bed by midnight!
i guess it’s true what they say, as long as what they say is “miller high life tastes like old paint.” on saturday, cecilia’s brother was in town to visit and we did all the usual touristy things: walk around, go to urban outfitters, grab a cheap haircut at the hair cuttery in dupont, and last but not least, head to asylum for quarter beer night!
every week, at 5pm sharp, asylum, the vegan biker bar, fills up with the poor and the very poor and the alcoholic for a night of bargain basement debauchery. 12-oz plastic cups of high life start at just $.25 and go up $.50 every hour afterwards until they reach their market price or everybody drinks themselves blind, whichever comes first.
in my case, absolute disgust with the corn-syrupy-sweet, utterly bland taste of high life led me to instigate a revolt (ok, cecilia’s comic inability to down the stuff didn’t hurt either) and order a round of delirium tremens for the table. and it was a damn good thing too, because after finding a chip of glass in one of them, we got all four for free! huzzah for potential injury!
needless to say, the good beer revived our spirits immensely and when waitress andrea (wasn’t she on a reality show? we wondered. although not me, because the only reality tv i watch is project runway, 30 days (it’s back!), and the food network. i don’t think andrea was heidi klum in disguise…) asked out of the blue if we wanted to do some carbombs. yes, andrea. we do.
i barely remember stumbling down 18th st. to dupont, though i do recall landing heavily in a booth in the big hunt. this is all around 9-ish, so the place is pretty dead. we order a greased-out pizza and proceed to watch cecilia’s brother get more and more out-of-it. and he’s the only one still in college! why, back in my day, collegians could hold their liquor, damn it. he rebounds enough to sing along with the cabby on the ride back to the hill, but when we get there we find that every fucking bar has gone and closed up by ten on a saturday! what the fuck, dc? isn’t getting bombed at cap lounge worth a little rain? honestly, i’m a little ashamed for you guys.
and that’s not all we have to be ashamed about, because a few minutes later we forced the closing crew at some mexican place down on pennsylvania to let us in for one last drink. i don’t know about you, but to me, 5 sodden, boozy twenty-somethings miserably cutching coronas in an empty, over-air-conditioned taqueria spells p-a-r-t-y! hells yeah. let’s just say we were happy to get home and forget it ever happened.
every week, at 5pm sharp, asylum, the vegan biker bar, fills up with the poor and the very poor and the alcoholic for a night of bargain basement debauchery. 12-oz plastic cups of high life start at just $.25 and go up $.50 every hour afterwards until they reach their market price or everybody drinks themselves blind, whichever comes first.
in my case, absolute disgust with the corn-syrupy-sweet, utterly bland taste of high life led me to instigate a revolt (ok, cecilia’s comic inability to down the stuff didn’t hurt either) and order a round of delirium tremens for the table. and it was a damn good thing too, because after finding a chip of glass in one of them, we got all four for free! huzzah for potential injury!
needless to say, the good beer revived our spirits immensely and when waitress andrea (wasn’t she on a reality show? we wondered. although not me, because the only reality tv i watch is project runway, 30 days (it’s back!), and the food network. i don’t think andrea was heidi klum in disguise…) asked out of the blue if we wanted to do some carbombs. yes, andrea. we do.
i barely remember stumbling down 18th st. to dupont, though i do recall landing heavily in a booth in the big hunt. this is all around 9-ish, so the place is pretty dead. we order a greased-out pizza and proceed to watch cecilia’s brother get more and more out-of-it. and he’s the only one still in college! why, back in my day, collegians could hold their liquor, damn it. he rebounds enough to sing along with the cabby on the ride back to the hill, but when we get there we find that every fucking bar has gone and closed up by ten on a saturday! what the fuck, dc? isn’t getting bombed at cap lounge worth a little rain? honestly, i’m a little ashamed for you guys.
and that’s not all we have to be ashamed about, because a few minutes later we forced the closing crew at some mexican place down on pennsylvania to let us in for one last drink. i don’t know about you, but to me, 5 sodden, boozy twenty-somethings miserably cutching coronas in an empty, over-air-conditioned taqueria spells p-a-r-t-y! hells yeah. let’s just say we were happy to get home and forget it ever happened.
7.24.2006
busy, bored, bolshevik?
| You are a Social Liberal (78% permissive) and an... Economic Liberal (20% permissive) You are best described as a:
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7.20.2006
not dead again
i'm actually busy at work, if you can believe it, and my sister came to visit today so i haven't been much on the blogging tip. running out of money here in dc, so i've been on the lookout for extra cheap happy hours and the like. heading out to the billy goat tavern for an end-of-work celebration (somebody else's, i still have two weeks left), probably worth it to drop the cashish on a good beer. who am i kidding, it's always worth it to spend on good beer!
7.14.2006
more convenient than ever
last night, cecilia and i went to see an inconvenient truth, the culmination of 40 years of work by mr. al gore, the man who “used to be the next president of the united states.”
no lie, it’s an extraordinary and powerful movie. if you know anything at all about climate change, then you probably are familiar with the kind of information that he talks about, but the magnitude of it, and the simple, clear, and effective way that he gets it across will still leave you impressed. no doubt about it, mr. gore looks and feels far more presidential as the narrator than he ever did on the campaign trail. he’s a virgillian figure, leading us down an ever steepening spiral to an inescapable conclusion: climate change is real, and it has already begun. all that we can hope to do is mute its effects. and i’m gonna start right now.
first and foremost, as always, is getting the word out. so, if you haven’t seen it yet, go see it this weekend, and bring a friend along. if you have already seen it, then by all means tell everybody you know to go see it. tell them that it doesn’t matter if you love gore or hate him, or whether you’re progressive or conservative, we all live on the same planet (unfortunately, if they’ve read that insipid crichton book, they’re probably beyond reaching). And most importantly, tell them it’s free!
to help spread the word, two organizations have stepped up, offering—through partnerships with fandango—free tickets to anyone who signs up.
first, inconvenientchristians.org, a website run by an environmental stewardship church called recovering eden. there’s a bunch of biblical quotes on their homepage, and when you sign up for the free tickets, they make you click one box that affirms your faith, and another that says you will come back and submit a review to them. fair enough, but i don’t really like to encourage hypocrisy or lying even on the internets, so…
we have targetglobalwarming.org, which is the same basic thing, except it’s run by the national wildlife fund (partnered with cabela’s, a hunting/fishing/outdoors equipment store) and they don’t make you pledge a damn thing. this is who i went through, and the process is virtually painless. in both cases, you get a coupon code that you enter into fandango’s site after you select a showtime. the codes are good for $20, but with the surcharges, the cost for 2 tickets in georgetown was $21. a small price to pay, i’m sure you’ll agree.
lastly, if you’re an internet 2.0 kind of person, eric pan, a regular-joe type from santa cruz, saw the movie and set up share the truth, a sort of community clearinghouse for people to either buy tickets for strangers, find tickets offered by strangers, or put together a group of like-mminded strangers to go see it together.
there, now you have absolutely no reason at all not to see this movie. it’s even pretty short, about an hour and forty-five minutes! if you can’t spare that, then there’s really nothing i can do for you. As for everybody else, pass those links on to whoever you can. tell them to see the movie and make up their own minds.
no lie, it’s an extraordinary and powerful movie. if you know anything at all about climate change, then you probably are familiar with the kind of information that he talks about, but the magnitude of it, and the simple, clear, and effective way that he gets it across will still leave you impressed. no doubt about it, mr. gore looks and feels far more presidential as the narrator than he ever did on the campaign trail. he’s a virgillian figure, leading us down an ever steepening spiral to an inescapable conclusion: climate change is real, and it has already begun. all that we can hope to do is mute its effects. and i’m gonna start right now.
first and foremost, as always, is getting the word out. so, if you haven’t seen it yet, go see it this weekend, and bring a friend along. if you have already seen it, then by all means tell everybody you know to go see it. tell them that it doesn’t matter if you love gore or hate him, or whether you’re progressive or conservative, we all live on the same planet (unfortunately, if they’ve read that insipid crichton book, they’re probably beyond reaching). And most importantly, tell them it’s free!
to help spread the word, two organizations have stepped up, offering—through partnerships with fandango—free tickets to anyone who signs up.
first, inconvenientchristians.org, a website run by an environmental stewardship church called recovering eden. there’s a bunch of biblical quotes on their homepage, and when you sign up for the free tickets, they make you click one box that affirms your faith, and another that says you will come back and submit a review to them. fair enough, but i don’t really like to encourage hypocrisy or lying even on the internets, so…
we have targetglobalwarming.org, which is the same basic thing, except it’s run by the national wildlife fund (partnered with cabela’s, a hunting/fishing/outdoors equipment store) and they don’t make you pledge a damn thing. this is who i went through, and the process is virtually painless. in both cases, you get a coupon code that you enter into fandango’s site after you select a showtime. the codes are good for $20, but with the surcharges, the cost for 2 tickets in georgetown was $21. a small price to pay, i’m sure you’ll agree.
lastly, if you’re an internet 2.0 kind of person, eric pan, a regular-joe type from santa cruz, saw the movie and set up share the truth, a sort of community clearinghouse for people to either buy tickets for strangers, find tickets offered by strangers, or put together a group of like-mminded strangers to go see it together.
there, now you have absolutely no reason at all not to see this movie. it’s even pretty short, about an hour and forty-five minutes! if you can’t spare that, then there’s really nothing i can do for you. As for everybody else, pass those links on to whoever you can. tell them to see the movie and make up their own minds.
7.12.2006
playing catch up
i just wanted to say that i’m alive and well. it’s been a busy week, with lots of running around and whatnot. quick updates are go!
- i saw a hawk swoop off of a building and snatch up a pigeon right out of a fountain! huzzah for nature!
- i also saw chuck hagel (r)-ne give what can only be described as the foundation of his stump speech. i can only hope that the q&a—wherein a college sophomore grilled him about his voting record and anwar—will be imitated on meet the press in two years.
- i can chalk up another two successes in my personal proselytizing of the joy that is veronica mars.
- i was wicked disappointed by the final of the cup. now i get to count down the weeks until real football season begins. time to start scouting my fantasy team…
- i saw pirates 2 and enron: the smartest guys in the room over the weekend and was thoroughly impressed by each of them for entirely different reasons. needless to say, my sympathies lie far more with actual pirates than with corporate ones.
- and lastly, after a night of debauchery to be proud of on saturday—i came home wearing somebody else’s pants—i can safely say i will never drink again. until 6pm.
7.06.2006
a paean to my liquid masters
alright, listen up coffee gods! i did your damn dirty work for far too long to have to put up with this shit! make the someday café into a crepe place? you might as well make it a chipotle, asshats!
ok, ok, i don’t even like the place very much (sorry, jen). but i do recognize that a lot people think it rocks their socks off, and that it’s not populated exclusively by anti-establishment zealots with nothing better to do than look down on me for having a real (i.e. horrible) job just for the health insurance. after all, coffee shops cannot be (entirely) blamed for the cockbites who have nowhere else to go because they had to choose between paying rent on their apartments and rent on the practice space for their band (that is this close to being signed, dude, seriously). there might be a few someday patrons who aren’t like that. of course, they would never stick up for me, because they’re craven, hipster, myspace riffraff and too dependent on approval from their poorly coiffed pack leaders. not that i’m bitter or anything.
i don’t even mind the rampant antistarbucksism. it’s the evolution from there to antidanbecauseheworksatstarbucksism that gets my dander up. it’s like i always say, “don’t hate the playa, hate the game!” Asshats.
p.s. gus, i know you don’t remember me, but one time i got stoned in the basement of the toscanini’s i worked at. it was my first day.
p.p.s. someday café, get some new goddamn couches already.
p.p.p.s. coffee gods, praise and glory be to your wonderful *cough*addictive*cough* gifts! this loyal acolyte will have your ritual sacrifice ready no matter what you do to destroy my beloved davis square! caffelujah!*
*until i can discover how to usurp your power and take my place among you mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
ok, ok, i don’t even like the place very much (sorry, jen). but i do recognize that a lot people think it rocks their socks off, and that it’s not populated exclusively by anti-establishment zealots with nothing better to do than look down on me for having a real (i.e. horrible) job just for the health insurance. after all, coffee shops cannot be (entirely) blamed for the cockbites who have nowhere else to go because they had to choose between paying rent on their apartments and rent on the practice space for their band (that is this close to being signed, dude, seriously). there might be a few someday patrons who aren’t like that. of course, they would never stick up for me, because they’re craven, hipster, myspace riffraff and too dependent on approval from their poorly coiffed pack leaders. not that i’m bitter or anything.
i don’t even mind the rampant antistarbucksism. it’s the evolution from there to antidanbecauseheworksatstarbucksism that gets my dander up. it’s like i always say, “don’t hate the playa, hate the game!” Asshats.
p.s. gus, i know you don’t remember me, but one time i got stoned in the basement of the toscanini’s i worked at. it was my first day.
p.p.s. someday café, get some new goddamn couches already.
p.p.p.s. coffee gods, praise and glory be to your wonderful *cough*addictive*cough* gifts! this loyal acolyte will have your ritual sacrifice ready no matter what you do to destroy my beloved davis square! caffelujah!*
*until i can discover how to usurp your power and take my place among you mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
7.05.2006
forefathers be proud
happy birthday america!
the 4th of july is an odd duck of a holiday. not so much in the reasons for its existence, but more in the way it’s celebrated. is bbq-ing american? sure it is, unless you count all of the other cultures—africans, arabs, asians—who beat us to it. there’s also the pesky fact that holding raw meat over open fire may very well be the oldest form of cooking there is. it’s so easy, a caveman could do it. sure, they didn’t have frozen burger patties and individually wrapped cheese slices back then (it took america to individually wrap its cheese, by gum!), so i guess we can lay our claim to the experience if not the method. but is grilling really any more american than frying things? kfc and paula deen probably don’t think so. we can probably call the fish-fry an authentic american experience, and it’s even appropriately summery, but i don’t think it’ll ever catch on as a 4th staple.
also, when the temperature rises, there’s a certain segment of the population (myself included) that will always reach for one specific beer—la corona! That’s just an inviolable fact of summer. and despite the overall (and also inviolable) blandness of the corona, i have yet to find an american lager that a) combines as well with limes and b) refreshes quite so perfectly. sure if push came to shove, i would sell my cervezas down the river for a pint of harpoon summer, but sadly, that miracle beer hasn’t made to my little corner of the swamp that is dc. anyway, the point is that our nation’s birthday is doomed by its own summer date to be celebrated with mexican beer. (don’t worry, america, my coronas were in celebration of their election, not your birthday!)
lastly, fireworks. we all know blowing things up is as american as apple pie. but the chinese invented fireworks! and yes, i suppose if there’s one thing america does better than any other country, it’s appropriate culture and assimilate people. all things considered though, there’s not one thing about this holiday that’s actually american (not counting mike’s supersnack)! we even had tortilla chips (mexico again) and pretzels (dutch or german, i don’t know).
i guess what I’m trying to say is, good job america! this holiday has actually shown me that we can thank the various immigrants we’ve had over the centuries, because i’m pretty sure that without them we’d be eating deep-fried cheetos and setting off real bombs every year.
the 4th of july is an odd duck of a holiday. not so much in the reasons for its existence, but more in the way it’s celebrated. is bbq-ing american? sure it is, unless you count all of the other cultures—africans, arabs, asians—who beat us to it. there’s also the pesky fact that holding raw meat over open fire may very well be the oldest form of cooking there is. it’s so easy, a caveman could do it. sure, they didn’t have frozen burger patties and individually wrapped cheese slices back then (it took america to individually wrap its cheese, by gum!), so i guess we can lay our claim to the experience if not the method. but is grilling really any more american than frying things? kfc and paula deen probably don’t think so. we can probably call the fish-fry an authentic american experience, and it’s even appropriately summery, but i don’t think it’ll ever catch on as a 4th staple.
also, when the temperature rises, there’s a certain segment of the population (myself included) that will always reach for one specific beer—la corona! That’s just an inviolable fact of summer. and despite the overall (and also inviolable) blandness of the corona, i have yet to find an american lager that a) combines as well with limes and b) refreshes quite so perfectly. sure if push came to shove, i would sell my cervezas down the river for a pint of harpoon summer, but sadly, that miracle beer hasn’t made to my little corner of the swamp that is dc. anyway, the point is that our nation’s birthday is doomed by its own summer date to be celebrated with mexican beer. (don’t worry, america, my coronas were in celebration of their election, not your birthday!)
lastly, fireworks. we all know blowing things up is as american as apple pie. but the chinese invented fireworks! and yes, i suppose if there’s one thing america does better than any other country, it’s appropriate culture and assimilate people. all things considered though, there’s not one thing about this holiday that’s actually american (not counting mike’s supersnack)! we even had tortilla chips (mexico again) and pretzels (dutch or german, i don’t know).
i guess what I’m trying to say is, good job america! this holiday has actually shown me that we can thank the various immigrants we’ve had over the centuries, because i’m pretty sure that without them we’d be eating deep-fried cheetos and setting off real bombs every year.
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