Archive for July, 2012

I Hate Me, Part 130,294

Carrie hates bugs, all bugs. Even the helpful kind, like the Dishwasher Spider, or the Mop & Glow Silverfish and if I am home it’s my job to kill them. I doesn’t matter how, smooshing them, swatting them, stabbing them with toothpicks that look like swords, drowning them in Windex. Pretty much whatever is at hand, as long as it’s done quickly. So a few nights ago I was watching the Mets (spoiler alert: they lost) and I heard the clarion call of bug discovery. The invader was a centipede. I don’t think they do much except creep people out and write the occasional bad check but I had to kill it. I saw where it was and asked Carrie to hand me a magazine or something to smoosh it with. She handed me a comic book (specifically, Bulletproof Coffin:Disinterred #6) and my full comic book nerd-itude came out
-That’s a comic!
+I know it’s a comic, KILL THE CENTIPEDE!
-I collect those
+You save ALL of them?
-Yes! that’s what collecting means.
+Killing one bug won’t ruin it.
-I don’t want bug guts on it, eccch.
+Just kill it
-How about that Bed, Bath & Beyond catalog over there?
+There’s a good coupon in it.
-Yeah, you’re right,…mmmmmmmmm
By this time the centipede made it’s escape and is now lurking and waiting, waiting.

Hey, I collect those

Sunday Music 7/29/12

Holmes-Free the Preacher
This is the title cut from Holmes second album. It came out in 2008. These guys are solid, one of my favorite bands but there’s a not much info on them. Christ, I know them and it’s hard to find out anything on them, it’s almost like the band is in a witness protection program. They have a myspace page. I couldn’t even find their stuff on If you want more info on them (like where to buy their cd’s) I suggest contacting Joe Belock who has the great Three Chord Monte show on WFMU. Maybe he can get in contact with them, like Commissioner Gordon with the Bat Signal. Enjoy.

I Like Records 68

It was about 8pm, Red Bank was getting hit with a really bad rainstorm. Black clouds, sideways rain, howling wind, no customers. And then a guy walks in, completely drenched:
-I’m lookin’ for something for my sister…
-The Secret, it’s new
[I looked it up couldn’t find anything remotely new with that name]
+Is that a band or an album title?
-I don’t know
+You don’t know if it’s a band
-It’s not a band
+So it’s an album title
-No, it’s not that either…I don’t know what it is…it’s something
+Is it a secret?
-No, it’s THE SECRET….her name is Rhonda something
[I googled “The Secret”, “Rhonda”]
+Do you mean the self help BOOK The Secret by Rhonda Byrne…it was big on Oprah?
-Yeah, that’s got it?
+No, I’m sorry. We don’t sell books on tape.
-I don’t wanna tape I want a CD
+Ok…we don’t sell any audio books..on CD
-Well, where am I gonna get it?
+Your best bet would be…or Barnes & Noble might have it
-Barnes and what?
+Noble, Barnes & Noble…they’re a giant bookstore chain…mostly at malls.
-mmmmmm..ok…so you don’t have it?
and he was off.

shhhh…it’s a secret

Reprint : Cable Chat

I have some horrible summer cold and feel awful, and I just watched the movie Contagion so I’m feeling a bit nervous as well. Here’s a reprint from way back in 2009:


Cable Chat
(Cable Chat is a discussion on cable TV shows and is not to be confused with Bridge Cable Chat a frank discussion on bridge building or Cable Stitch Chat our knitting forum. Sorry for any confusion.)

HBO is showing a great new documentary, Ted Williams!: There Goes the Greatest Hitter Who Ever Lived! which is filled with new information on what many pundits consider the greatest pure hitter baseball has produced.
Ted Williams nicknamed the Splendid Splinter (because of a giant 3 foot splinter that was removed from his back as a rookie) had a love/hate relationship with Boston where he played for the Red Sox from 1939-1960. During interviews with teammates Donald “Dandy” White, Jester Lee, and Cleveland Indians hall of fame pitcher Tommy “Earthquake” McGurk it was revealed that Williams would strangle a hobo as good luck before a home game and two or more before every road game. “It was just something that he did” says Dandy White “I always ate a good luck apple before a game but Ted had this thing about hobos. Sometimes when a playful mood struck him he’d skin a hobo and wear the skin as a suit. It was a grand prank and really loosened the fellas up. The only who didn’t like it was Jerry who was our clubhouse attendant and had to clean up hobo remains.” Indians pitcher Tommy “Earthquake” McGurk remembers “One day we were playing the Red Sox and Ted was in one of his foul tempers, it seemed like there wasn’t enough hobos to strangle to put him right. Well anyway it was the fifth inning and Ted went up to hit with no bat, nothin’, he just walked up to the plate and screamed TONIGHT, I AIN’T USIN’ A BAT and he punched the ball 400 ft for a home run. It was the damndest thing. I was only a little drunk at the time, so I’m pretty sure it happened.” Teammate Jester Lee reminisced “Ted was drunk one night on a drink he invented, he called it a Boston Baked Bean (10 parts whiskey, 1 baked bean, 5 parts whiskey, 1 rose petal, 6 parts whiskey (mull the baked bean and rose petal)) and he was sloshed and he said “When I die my progeny will cut off off my head and put it in a robot Ted Williams and he will be the greatest hitter forever, and he’ll do it without killing hobos”” Lee continued “Sometimes late at night Ted would get sad thinking about all the hobo’s he killed. Jesus, it must have been thousands. But it was a price he was willing to pay to be the best.”

HBO check local listings

Sound Effects: Death & Horror

I found this sound effects record and I really dig the cover. It’s from the BBC (1977) and the artist is Andrew Prewett. [Click on images to enlarge]

Sunday Music: 7/22/12

Lord Sitar-Have you see your mother baby?
Lord Sitar aka Big Jim Sullivan aka James George Tomkins. He was an english session musician. I have no idea of the original release date of this Rolling Stones cover. I found it on the CD Mind Expanders vol.1 (2009, Past & Present records) (click on arrow below to listen)

I Hate Me, Part 109,630

[Note: after reading what I just wrote, I have to warn you it’s pretty goddamned thin]

I was trying to find a working pen. I’m one of those goddamned idiots who sometimes (most times) saves a pen that doesn’t write instead of throwing it out (maybe the ink was having a bad day, I’m sure it’ll work next time). So every now and again it’ll come back and bite me on the ass. I was frantic, late for work and I had to write a second check for my New Jersey taxes, which was late because the goddamned idiot I hired to do my taxes got the amount I owed wrong.  But I digress…so I was tearing up the house looking for a pen. There are three main places where a working pen might be, cute pen caddy’s over stuffed with a shitload of inkless pens, broken pencils and leaky markers. I finally found a pen that worked and grudgingly wrote out the check. Then I noticed a red smear on the check and then another red smear my shirt (one of the few that were up until that point stain less) and then the coffee cup and finally my right hand which was covered in red ink. My hand looked like Lady Macbeth (which coincidentally was my wrestling name). I swore vengeance on the leaky marker and started tearing apart the pen caddy’s looking for the culprit. I finally found it and with a few choice pen-centric curses threw it out and then I put all the pens back, even the ones that didn’t work.

This is after scrubbing my hand for five minutes. I assure you it was a lot (A LOT!) inkier before, a veritable bloodbath of ink.

The Bulletproof Coffin

Yes, I read comics. Of course I do, it fits in nicely with the rest of my emotionally stunted man/child life. And I know that there are thousands of people more qualified (if that’s the correct word) to review them. The only time I wrote reviews was for a “zine” called The Ugly American about a million years ago. My reviews were were about music and they were short and snarky. So bear with me, I’m sure the payoff will be small.
A couple of years ago, Walt from the comic book store, turned me onto a weird little comic called The Bulletproof Coffin. It was a strange little self contained universe that included the writer and artist, (David Hine/Shaky Kane) as characters and an editor named Destroyovski, which is one of my favorite names ever. It had everything; vague conspiracy, zombies, extremely damaged golden age type super heros, all mixed together in a fucked up dream logic of a story. The art by “Shaky Kane” reminded me of a simpler Geof Darrow (Hard Boiled), (that may be a wildly inaccurate reference, but that’s how it hit me). Gleefully crazy shit, that almost made sense. It was one of the best things I’d read in a long time.
I have just finished the second series of Bulletproof Coffin, called Disinterred. Now there are times when I’ll start a comic, for example Spaceman (by Azzarello/Risso) and I can’t follow it, I bought two issues, couldn’t figure out what was going on and really didn’t give a shit, so I stopped. Disinterred is different, it takes it to a new level of “what the fuck?” Each issue seems like a disjointed stand alone but then parts of early issues are told differently in later issues. Issue four is “non-linear”, told in a Burroughs like cut-up style, and in fact is dedicated to William Burroughs, Brion Gyson and other members of the beat generation. Issue five is about zombies in the Viet-Nam war told in a series of cards reminiscent of Mars Attacks. The whole thing is a colossal mind fuck, I really don’t know what is going on and I want more.

V. Suteyev-Stories and Pictures

My Wife found this book, it’s a cool children’s book that’s printed in English but published in Russia from 1963. I couldn’t find anything on the author/illustrator V. Suteyev. When I googled his name it came up with “Did you mean V.Suteev” who is also a children’s author, I don’t know if it’s the same guy. When I was a kid my two favorite books were Danny and the Dinosaur and Ant & Bee. [click on image to enlarge]

The following is “The Cross Cat” a story from the book


Sunday Music 7/15/12

Dog of Mystery-Willoughby (The Insect God)
Back before Monster Magnet, John McBain and I had a band called Dog of Mystery. I have described it as bedroom psych. Noisy four-track skree recorded in kitchens, living rooms and bedrooms. We recorded two tapes worth of stuff. This is one of my favorite songs, mainly because there are no vocals on it and John kills it psychedelically.