Archive for the ‘ Uncategorized ’ Category

I Hate Me, Part 200,102

There’s not much to this one but here it is. I went to visit a friend of mine, Mike who opened up a new tattoo shop. It’s called Black Panther Tattoo, which I think is a great name (The image I have for a logo was the two athletes at the ’68 Olympics raising their fists, but they have panther heads. You’re welcome), my wife thought Ninja Tiger* would be a better name, but I digress. Black Panther Tattoo is in Brick which is close to where I live but just far enough away that it’s out of my comfort zone. A lot of medium sized highways that criss-cross, and a bunch of retirement villages make Brick hard to navigate. So I used my GPS** and I got there fine. When I got there, I threw the GPS in the glove box and hung out at the shop for awhile. When I was driving home, I was listening to a Zeppelin mix pretty loudly in the car, when Gallows Pole came on (the beginning of which is pretty quiet)I heard a woman speaking in a slight English monotone, not enough where I could make it what was being said but enough where it was annoying. It sounded like a BBC newscaster was on at the same time, Of course I thought that either my I-pod was fucked or there was some bleed through from the radio (I sometimes listen to NPR and they have BBC reports) and of course I was instantly enraged, “Fuckin’ shit stereo, this is all I fucking need, Aaaaurgh!” It took me about five minutes of rage to realize that I never shut off the GPS and it sounded like I had a tiny proper englishwoman held hostage in my glovebox. It’s pretty amazing how goddamned stupid I can be.

*her idea for the Ninja Tiger logo is a tiger done up all ninja-ey with a “Ninja Tiger” tattoo on it’s arm or paw or shank or whatever it’s called.

**I have the GPS voice set to “Englishwoman”, to add a little class.

Imagine them with panther heads

Psychotropic Drugs: a Manual for Emergency Management of Overdosage/Pt.1

Well, this one’s not that old but it’s pretty cool (Not that overdosage is cool, the book is) (click on image to enlarge)

Sunday Music 10/9/11

Ngozi Family-Everything is Over
The Ngozi Family (Ngozi means “danger”) were another proponent of 70’s Zamrock (Rock from the African country of Zambia) this is from their 1975 album 45,000 volts (to listen, click on song title below)

Everything Is Over

department of self promotion

Jon Francis was nice enough to interview me about doing lighting. I don’t know how to embed anything on my blog but here’s the link. I already posted this on Facebook. thank you

LP Inserts 2

Some more inserts I found in trashed records. I’m not an english scholar but shouldn’t it be “211 Reasons Why The Rolling Stones ARE The Greatest Rock and Roll Band”: [click on image to enlarge]

I Hate Me, Part 107,263

It was a shit day off, I had just gotten into a beef with my next door neighbor (aka: the trash burner). When that kind of stuff happens, I replay it constantly in my head and it hamstrings my day. I had to go to Foodtown, I knew the potential for annoyance* was high, but I wanted to get out of the house. I wanted to make a surgical strike, I needed salad from the salad bar, some apples, yogurt, laundry detergent, and paper towels. I didn’t need a cart or a basket, in my head I figured out my store route; salad,apples,detergent,towels,yogurt, check-out. I had a giant cup of coffee before I left and I felt bulletproof. I got in and everything went to plan, I started celebrating (well, maybe not celebrating but it was the kind of day where any victory was good) and then I hit the check-out (cue the brake squealing, record scratching sound). The shortest line was the express line but in front of me was an old guy in a motorized assist cart and a guy who comes into my store who’s referred to as “The Kasabian guy”. A nice enough guy who seems a bit medicated and always asked about upcoming releases for this english band called Kasabian, sometimes he’d come in a couple of times a week and check. I hadn’t seen him in a while and I really didn’t want to get into a conversation much less a conversation about Kasabian. The guy in the motorized cart was going as fast as a guy in a motorized cart can go and the Kasabian guy had his stuff all spread out on the conveyer belt and was standing in such a way that I couldn’t put anything down without risking a conversation. It was about this time that my pyramid of groceries started to shift (remember I didn’t want to be slowed down by a cart or basket). It was a good stack, in my left hand a flat container of salad with carton of individual yogurts on top and a bag of apples resting on top of everything. In my right hand, a roll of paper towels under my arm and the jug of detergent in my hand. The apples started rolling around in their bag, threatening to spill out, I tried to steady it and ended up dropping everything onto the conveyer belt, knocking over most of the Kasabian guy’s stuff. I apologized to him and he had no idea who I was. In my flustered-ness I blurted out, “Still listening to Kasabian?”, he made a weird lemon face and said no.

*A side note to the word “annoy”. My wife says I never met a pun I didn’t like and I know that puns are the lowest rung of humor but… A long time ago my friend Dave and I did a couple of songs on a four-track under the name Annoy-Bauten ( a pun on german band Einsturzende Neubauten), we did a couple of Sabbath songs (I forget which) and impersonated William Shatner singing them. Not as good as it sounds. 

Old Books / The Travels of Marco Polo/Pt.3

Here the rest of the stuff I scanned from the book.