our noble president has said that he opposes the designation of english as america's national language. I refuse to believe that he would actually have an intelligent opinion like that. a better explanation, I think, is that he's such a poor english speaker himself that he'd find it too embarrassing.

this brings back memories.

sometimes ignorance really is bliss. although it happened last july, I just read that the times square ho jo's is closed and gone forever. I would have been a much happier man without ever learning that.

"total eclipse of the heart" is the best song ever. naw, I'm just kidding. actually I'm not; it really is.

I think my next car may be a saturn sky. saw one yesterday and fell completely in love.

greek festival in winston this weekend! it's all about the greek coffee, which I am unable to make myself for some reason. however, I discovered that I can make a fabulous chocolate mousse from scratch. with the help of julia child's recipe, that is.

also this weekend, if we can get in, the davinci code. yeah, I'm lame. I get it. not that I wouldn't want to go anyway, but I'll see anything audrey tautou's in. I think she's one of the most beautiful women in the world. unfortunately, so does she.

the gottis are such sedgwicks.

defined:
sedgwick (n): a celebrity without notable talent or merit who would have never risen to fame without his or her association with other well known people. named for edie sedgwick, one of andy warhol's proteges. currently prominent examples are kevin federline, bijou phillips, and--of course--paris hilton.
--from Duennas and Pocket Foxes: A Guide to the Slang of Jeremy Ball and Cohorts, copyright 2003, revised 2006.

I hate fucking know-it-alls. going around all snarky and shit, starting (and ending) pointless arguments, making everyone around them feel stupid. and whether they're right or wrong (generally they're the latter, although try getting them to admit it), rubbing it in like it's the most important thing they'll ever say, instead of just letting it go. don't they realize how boorish they are, for fuck's sake? how self-righteous and pseudo-intellectual? I hope that at least a few of them mature out of it before some concerned party strangles them. but not until someone with ACTUAL intelligence teaches them some painful lesson that they won't soon forget. there was a time when I was a bit of a know-it-all, myself. I believe it plagued me in college--funny how that seems to happen, eh? I'm glad I finally realized that it just. isn't. nice. and grew up.

sorry. I really do like most people.

apparently chows are the tastiest breed of dog. I didn't know that. it's no wonder they're so mean. I also learned that the flesh of people of african descent is more prized by cannibals than "white man's flesh," which is supposedly stringy. while on my dietary research kick, I stumbled across this article, which is morbidly fascinating. imagine someone volunteering to be killed and eaten!

my vote for best comedic film of 2006 so far: an american haunting. that thing is an mst3k episode waiting to happen. maybe mike nelson will do some fabulous dvd commentary when it comes out, heh.

highly recommended to triad readers: pj's coffee and wine bar in high point, at the palladium. don't know about the wine yet, but GREAT and cheap coffee. funky nouvelle decor adds to the fun.

this is an absurdly overgeneral statement, but I'm sick and tired of current events. in general. the more I hear, the more I feel that the apocalypse is nigh. here's how it's going to go:

irate illegal immigrants are going to congregate in the vicinity of new orleans and protest by knocking down the levees. the resultant flow of water will destroy numerous chicken coops, releasing a mutant bird flu strain. everyone will catch it and die, but only because no one will be able to afford gas to get to the hospitals. the administration will offer no response, as they will be too busy eavesdropping on the telephone conversations of married gay couples trying to get ideas on how to make the democrats look bad in time for the next election.

four words to express why there's still good left in the world: inspector gadget on dvd. and I do not mean the movie.

whenever you're thinking of giving a friend advice, think about whether you'll have to qualify it with, "I'm just telling you this as a friend." if you will, don't do it. they'll probably just get pissed off and go against your advice to spite you.

it's a shame I'm so opposed to lying. I'm awfully good at it. not to mention lyeing. I mean, if you really want to get a drain unclogged...

the 'rents came down saturday and brought my grandmother to see the house. had a great time, and no one even commented on the mounds of junk that sully pretty much every room at the moment.

can't believe dean cain is almost forty. I've never thought much about him, really, but in light of that he's certainly eligible for official DILF status.

speaking of celebs, justin and I were discussing the fabulous party we're going to throw when we become rich, famous, and happening--which should happen any day now. we're trying to decide what celebs to invite. so far, the following people MUST be present: seth macfarlane, alyson hannigan (and consequently alexis denisof), scott caan, chelsea handler, drew barrymore, andy samberg, nicholas brendon, jenny lewis, adam busch, ike barinholtz, and christina ricci. oh, and henry rollins, who may end up being the oldest partygoer at this particular bash, but whothehellcareshesfuckinghenryrollins. do offer your suggestions on the matter.

thanks to the chelsea handler show (which everyone REALLY ought to watch--it's on E!) for turning me on to the existence of this little gem of dementia.

for whatever reason, whenever I learn that a film or written work deals primarily with one of the following subjects I automatically stop wanting to see/read it: war, drug trafficking, icebergs. I know I'm missing out on a lot because of that; I'm working on it.

even after learning how the minute maid company came up with its name, I still think it's dumb.

it's about time that people started giving the wallflowers the respect they deserve. I just may have to buy all their records (already have one, so need four).

remember the tv series "father dowling mysteries?" I loved that show. similarly, remember "sister kate?" not so great; I still remember the milli vanilli episode.

dinner tonight with justin, josh, rachel, mad dog, and noel was very amusing. first time I'd seen people that I don't work and/or live with in forever. so a step in the right direction. life has become more insular, if that's possible. other than forwards and mailing list stuff, I've gotten two e-mails since my birthday. I only ever talk to my mom and justin (occasionally josh, naturally). it's like I'm back in high school. I just feel like I should be more social. and I wish that I had the time. so it goes.

latest absurd purchase: an ionic pro air purifier. will post an update on its efficacy once it's been established.

less than two months now until our week in cancun. I'm anxious to wake up every day with margaritas, lie in the sun with dacquiris, and fall asleep under the influence of fuzzy navels. I'm not an alcoholic, but when it's all inclusive you want to get your money's worth.

given that something as distant as the moon controls the tides, is it reasonable to say that extended periods of happiness and displeasure in my life are controlled by a complete stranger's hair or lack thereof? there's the most delicious boy in gso (short, muscley, that marvelously blond hair that nearly always darkens after childhood) whom I first noticed several years ago as a coffeehouse regular when he had long hair (and no beard). "what a shame," I thought, "with biceps like those and a bum like that to spoil the package with that icky hair!"

some months later I saw him working at teeter--short hair. mmm. nice. life was good. then he grew this dreadful beard, spoiling everything again. thus began the winter of my discontent. few men should have full beards. only my dad and jonathan frakes, I think. but I kept my eye on him in vain hope.

then last week, when I stopped in for some groceries. new haircut. clean shaven. I was elated, I tell you. my buoyant mood has persisted. which leads me to wonder about a subconscious connection.

in a similar vein, I have to say it: nick lachey is hot. now I have to go and hang myself for the shame of admitting it. anybody got some rope?

there's just no getting around it. dan brown is a damn good author. I read deception point and didn't really care for it, but the da vinci code turned me around. now I'm reading angels and demons, also great. that said, he makes some awfully bubbleheaded errors in his books. in the da vinci code, it is made very clear that the two main characters are riding in a taxi that is a stick shift. then, mention is made of putting the cab in "park." now, in angels and demons, I find numerous references to cell phones having dial tones--not ringtones, dial tones. having owned a cell phone in 2001, I can call that an error with some certainty. I don't know who to blame more, brown or his editor.

if john mayer ever has kids, they'll never have trouble falling asleep. can you imagine john mayer singing you a lullaby? my grown up eyes get heavy just thinking about it, and I mean that as a compliment.

going to wv for Easter this weekend. no special plans, just the usual. I always look forward to visiting my family, but I get frustrated with how bluefield limits the usual weekend possibilities. I just know that I'm going to want cook out burgers, tate street coffee, and barnes and noble browsing as soon as I hit the city limits.

I know I'm 12+ months late on this, but it's such an outrage to me that anyone should steal "the scream" (the munch painting). if I had to list the five works of art that, to me personally, must never be lost, it would be on there. and no one seems to be making a big enough deal about it to suit me. I'll bet the precious mona lisa would command a bit more attention.

on tv, people are forever taking their significant others to quiet, dignified restaurants to break up with them "so they won't make a scene." that's really wonky to me. hello? break it off in private--house, car, etcetera--then what does it matter? the more expensive the venue the more of a scene I'd feel obliged to make, myself.

apparently whenever something on a film set didn't go to greta garbo's liking, she threatened to go back to sweden. she got her way every time. that's so awesome. whenever something doesn't go my way from now on, I'm threatening to go back to sweden. that'll show em.

slim mints are a very effective diet aid. but not if you ever want to sleep again. I'm afraid that I may have to give them up in favor of getting back to my coveted eight hours per night.

best place to be in the 1920s: sitting around the algonquin round table. worst place to be: not sitting around the algonquin round table but on the shit list of someone who was.

I forgot to mention how much neat stuff I found when I cleaned off the bed in the front bedroom so the carpet cleaning folks wouldn't have so much to work around. most of what was piled on it has been there since we've moved in, I've been so loathe to sort through it. it included:

--cameras: one 35mm, one digital, and one mini dv video camera
--a stuffed alligator named starla
--many pieces of clothing, including two cashmere sweaters valued at approximately $380
--dvds and cds beyond counting
--a magic 8 ball
--an hp deskjet color printer
--a megaphone
--an overnight bag
--last year's tax return
--my graduation mortarboard

...and ever so much more.

sorry for the long silence. I've been spending most of my computer related time transferring all my crap from the old machine to the new one, an ongoing project.

I took a couple of well deserved days off last week, sleeping and eating too much. since the end of the quarter had passed I was hoping to return to a quieter, less strained office. wrong. I'm working more now than ever, over two hours of overtime tonight alone. I'm taking bets on when I finally just crack.

many thanks to charles for sending me his xanga link to add to my list on the left. he's a fabulous, witty, unique, and--dare I say it?--devastatingly handsome man who deserves to be much read.

I'm sure I have a lot more to say, but my brain is done for the night. I sit here, asking it to cook up witty repartee, and it's all, "uh uh. nope, I'm tired. get back to ya." so to bed.

oh, joy. oh, rapture. the glory that is a new computer. my old one just wasn't cutting it. full hard drive, and I could go downstairs and make a grilled cheese in the time it took to open firefox. I am now the adoring owner of a sony vaio vgc-ra840g. pentium d dual core processor (water cooled, no less), 250 gb hard drive (if I fill THAT up I've got issues), dvd burner, tv tuner, wireless everything, and way too many speakers. many other features I really don't need.

now, the ra840g hasn't been made for a couple of months--having been replaced with an almost identical model with a different name--but its technology is still top notch. compusa had exactly one left, the display. they knocked the price down and threw in two full years of on site service. the upshot? I got a $1400 computer for $880 today.

james was in town today, as was carl willis. great dinner out at tripp's. I forgot how much fun it can be talking to people that I don't live with! not that they aren't fun, but you know.

chemdry came today and freshened up the bedroom carpet. on thursday we had the repair guy in to remedy the thumping washing machine (courtesy of windsor, no charge to us--everything in the nor'easter is under warranty for one year). next goal, landscaping. we be gettin shit done up in this piece!

man, everything in this post is so exciting. to me, anyway. I'll stop boring all y'all for the time being. happy weekend!

I love knowing that there are people in the world crazier than I am. if I actually got vh1 classic, I'd watch the whole hour.

the imminent rise of wal-mart where the mighty carolina circle mall hath fallen is something that I've mentioned here before. since certain people-who-must-not-be-named refused to accompany me on a mission inside the derelict xanadu, here are some fabulous pictures from someone who did venture in. I'm not sure why I'm obsessed with the whole carolina circle affair, but there's a 19 page long thread on urbanplanet.org built up by others who are as well.

now that the sequel is forthcoming, I finally took it upon myself to watch basic instinct this weekend. y'know, that's a pretty damn good movie. and I don't even care about sharon stone's vagina.

justin and I received a $1200 check from wells fargo yesterday. they overestimated our escrow costs and are refunding us the excess money, as well as lowering our house payment permanently by $80 a month. talk about a nice surprise.

thanks be to josh for turning me onto the clientele. such a wonderful band. they're the musical equivalent of a slow, introspective walk through the streets of a small town on an autumn day, the scent of fallen leaves wafting up from your feet.

sorry, that was positively revolting. but they are.

by the way: if you're reading this and personally know me even the teeniest bit and have a blog/journal of your own, do me a favor and send me the link--provided that you don't mind if I link to you. I need to update my left side linkage. those of you over there who don't keep your posts up to date, shame on you. those of you who DO, thanks to you all. you help me remember when I had a social life.

no. NO. enn-ohh NO. absolutely not.

tell me this isn't off kilter. as most of y'all know, isaac hayes is the voice of chef on south park. and of course, south park viciously skewers every societal concept under the sun--I say this with the utmost respect. religion is no exception. over the seasons Jews, Christians, Mormons, etcetera have all been lampooned to the point of even making me blush.

but let the show make fun of scientologists--scientologists--and isaac hayes announces that he's walking.

so much for chef.

on the lighter side, I seem to be doing okay:

This Is My Life, Rated
Life:	7
Mind:	5.9
Body:	6.1
Spirit:	6.7
Friends/Family:	6.2
Love:	9.2
Finance:	8.1
Take the Rate My Life Quiz

more reasons why I'm a disturbed human being:

watching fatal attraction today, I found myself feeling more sympathy for glenn close than michael douglas.

I find websites like this compelling.

I think that socialized medicine is really a fantastic idea...oh, wait. that just makes me normal and sensible. strike this one.

[warning: this implicates other people] just before writing this, I was talking with ali about carl buddig lunch meat. we'd been talking about carl buddig lunch meat for quite some time. the only reason we stopped talking about carl buddig lunch meat was that my phone's battery died.

when I was a kid, I used to call shopping malls around the country and ask for paper directories. they mailed them. I collected them. I had dozens.

I get a little too excited about kitchen utensils. man, there's this honkin pizza cutter at tuesday morning that I want so bad...

ground fog gets me hot.

driving around town, I sometimes feel the urge to stop, get out, and just walk around. just because I'm passing by parts of the earth that I may never touch otherwise.

I really want to go to the cn tower in toronto, lie on the glass observation floor (1,122 feet above ground) and look down. reason this is disturbing: I'm afraid of heights.

I spend what little free time I have making blog posts like this.

lovely!

You're A Prayer for Owen Meany!

by John Irving

Despite humble and perhaps literally small beginnings, you inspire
faith in almost everyone you know. You are an agent of higher powers, and you manifest
this fact in mysterious and loud ways. A sense of destiny pervades your every waking
moment, and you prepare with great detail for destiny fulfilled. When you speak, IT
SOUNDS LIKE THIS!


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

classic quote (not sure from whom, just read it online somewheres): coming out of the closet is way too much like going through the wardrobe. it's always winter, never Christmas, and I just know there's an EVIL queen lurking about!

I'm really looking forward to the oscars, though I've only seen one of the big five. I missed most of them last year due to a fight with justin, although neither of us can remember what it was about. here's hoping history doesn't repeat itself, although I'm certainly not planning any altercations.

speaking of justin, after getting tired of my complaints about not having enough pics of him, he deemed two more photos suitable for thousand words, so they're in his gallery. I have some great ones of his cat as well (a.k.a. "black willow"), and will add them soon.

and speaking of movies, I know that everyone in the free world is going to blast me for this one...date movie = hilarious. juvenile and tasteless, but hilarious. it also reinforces my belief that alyson hannigan is a goddess. I want to give birth to her children.

of course, if we're talking buffy cast members, nicholas brendon wins out.

I can understand david boreanaz, but drooling over james marsters is just weird.

and I'm a dork. signing off.

saying that something is as easy as taking candy from a baby is awful. unless said baby is choking, why would you take candy from it? there are some sick fucking people in the world.

speaking of sick, I've been there. coughing my fool head off for a week, but I'm finally starting to mend.

(for want of anything better to say at the moment, some pretentious indie babble. so stop reading here if you don't care about music, you damn heathen)

the verdict is in on the life pursuit. this is a remarkable album. it comes across as a synthesis of all that they've accomplished thus far. the elements of kitsch and whimsy evident on dear catastrophe waitress are all here, combined with the introspective lyrical aspects of the band's earlier work. overall the sound is light and peppy, but don't be fooled: there's depth, and then some. it isn't my favorite record of theirs (will tigermilk ever really be trumped?), but it's a gem.

however, it's even easier to gush about rabbit fur coat, from jenny lewis (of rilo kiley) and the watson twins. have mercy. each rilo kiley record has had echos of a vintage country sound, one that lewis' voice is well suited to. rabbit fur coat is positively steeped in the kind of c & w that would make patsy cline feel proud. it sounds like ole jenny is finally doing what she's always wanted. the production is so clear and sharp she could be singing just over my shoulder. on rilo kiley albums (though I love em all) I've noticed that she tends to strain her vocals sometimes, making what could be sweet notes sound forced and harsh. here, she's consistently melodious and natural. stock up on kleenex, get a six pack of your fave american beer, and settle in with this one.