Iamthegreatestthingever

I move and shake like the rest of them.

Monday, July 31, 2006

My ski vest has buttons like convenience store mirrors and they help me see, that everything in this room right now is a part of me......

....Won't soul music change
now that our souls have turned strange.
Once a day, twice a day
And when on and off collide
we'll set our souls aside and walk away.

Realizing is how it feels inside when it happens to you.
So I took a shot of sugar like snow dumped into the blood
and children wander off into the ultra-economic
but we are real I know we are real.



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Well this weekend was pretty much packed. Friday night I had to pay some social bills and attend a performance of Liszt before heading to the Ritz for dirty martinis. It was fine and all but sometimes I wonder if I’m too involved with the Chicago socialista. The endless networking at the Chicago Club can be tiring not to mention....

Luckily this Saturday and Sunday I was able to reacquaint myself with my authentic rock-n-roll core. I went to a music festival and actually had a pretty good time. For about 7 years, I’ve been less and less inclined toward viewing live music. This is due mostly to the extended periods of standing and how difficult it is to smoke without ashing into someone’s hair. Because of this I have only considered a few shows worth it. At the music shin-dig most of it wasn’t really worth it to me. Of course, I had fun and enjoyed some bands I wouldn’t otherwise have forked over money for, but the success of the entire affair hung on the hopes of one man. I was happy to see the piranhas of Yo La Tengo and Tapes ‘N Tapes and Jens Lekman and Danileson and Aesop Rock. But as they say: I don’t care about the piranhas—fuck ‘em—I’m building it anyways. As you are well aware, The Silver Jews are that state of the art aquarium where the teacher can lecture and the students can see the animals in their natural habitat.

In all honestly, I didn’t have high hopes for the Jews. The combination of Berman’s most likely lame stage presence and lack of knowledge of his own lyrics spelled less than sweetness. But I can say with all sincerity—The Silver Jews were the best live show I have ever seen. Berman was really amazing and, currently, a huge Zionist. Here it is important to take pause and clarrify something. It has come to our attention that some of the less informed members of our ever dwindling readership have come to believe the completely unfounded and ridiculous rumor that some of us here have anti-semitic tendencies. This is frankly not true. We love religious Jews; it’s the secular ones we find universally distasteful. Okay? okay. Moving on,

In a fit of wonderfulness the Silver Jew was good enough to only play a couple of songs off his new piece of total garbage album. Instead The Natural Bridge, American Water and Bright Flight made up the vast majority of the set. And when the immortal opening lines of Random Rules were first uttered into the microphone my handle of whiskey burst from my pocket and into my belly where I basked in the sweet refrains of songs I’ve kind of forgotten.

I cried only three times during the show and began to shake uncontrollably during Horseleg Swastikas. But what made the songs especially awesome was Berman himself. He is no longer part of the legion of simpleton, lazy and always ugly atheist yokel crowd spewing what can only be seen as unreasonable melodramatic tripe given their necessary convictions about the supernatural. After finishing “Time Will Break the World” he said most sincerely: Just so you know I don’t believe that anymore. And he0 insinuated his disappointed and flabbergastation to find everyone who attended the Silver Jews show in Tel Aviv a few weeks back was secular. So cheers to you, Jewish man. We should become friends and hangout.

In sum, all in all, it was pretty okay. There were lots of other bands and good people to hangout with and an endless supply of free water because of my sweet VIP hookups and what-not.

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

Hi-Oh!

I suppose you’re like totally dying to hear about my weekend abroad. Well there’s really not a lot to tell. Unlike my last visit to New York it only rained 85 percent of the time instead of constantly. In addition, I was not keeping company exclusively with drunks and doppelgangers. These two facts made the trip substantially different as I spent less time on a porch drinking 40’s and whiskey in the rain, and more time seeing various neighborhoods and sights. I have not yet decided which time I considered more enjoyable.

Yet, even without the ragtime group of swingers of yore, this trip did offer some forms of excitement. For example, I once bought a milkshake that cost more than beer. At another, I had to fend off whorish undergraduates with little more than a half lit cigar and an endless double-entendre repartee. I was even kicked out of a bar for being too real for those uptight Manhattan jackasses. As to this last moment, I feel it is important to mention I was totally justified in my shenanigans and would even go as far as to say the barman wouldn’t know an awesome and refined joke if it came up to the bar and told him go to hell before leaving with like 10 hot babes. Oh the things New York can do to awesome gentleman.

All in all though, I can say with complete confidence, genius, brilliance and authority that New York is the greatest pile of garabage imaginable. And I hate it. I Hate it more than England. And Italy. And Germany. And all of Eastern Europe. Of course, France is still the most kickass, although Paris has lost her luster. I will close with a direct comment for An Doof Ass: You still owe me 10 dollars and at least one trip that doesn’t blow, hard.

Monday, July 17, 2006

what do you want from me?!

Things have been looking up recently. I sold my clunker of car for some serious money and bought a Bentley. I like it alright. There are, after all, few pleasures as necessary as fine cordovan leather and cherry accents. While my car is awesome something has been missing in my life as of late–an awesome haircut.

For a while I was living the bustling urban dream by having my haircuttery just around the corner from my loft. It was great. I would go there after a long day of work and have my homosexual Mexican stylist Christopher wash and trim my flowing mane into all form or spiked and highlighted glory. We become close friends and when his club had a walk-off in Hyde Park a couple months back I gave him and his buddies a ride down. It was classy.

But like so much in life it was not meant to last. Christopher no longer works at Volare Hair Emporium on 18th and Carpenter and since the rest of the staff is female (there are few things as unnatural as a woman touching a man’s scalp. Gross) I was forced to look for a new trim-man.

For months I wandered around trying to find a replacement to no avail. I received many bad, choppy haircuts that I eventually gave up looking and returned to my flowing college locks. This made the girls go crazy but I was less enthused about it because of the hot, stick weather. Then out of nowhere I found a new place just around the corner from my office tower.

Gentlemen, if you are ever in Chicago and need a haircut, I’m taking you to “Originals Nail Salon.” There you will find a single homosexual Polish man who has been in the same spot for 35 years. His salon has all the great 80's style you come to expect from all Eurotrash and the soundtrack is all Eddy Grant. Originals also includes a fine harem of Eastern European women named Sasha and Katrina that do all the finishing touches. After he’s done with the trim he snaps his fingers like a real swinger, and one of them comes over and blow dry’s and part your hair either on the left or the right side all the while smelling like cinnamon gum and slut buts. It is all quite regal.

Any whats it, I got this haircut because I’m going to a big important business conference this weekend in Buenos Aires and I need to look good for all the powerful contracts I’m going to get. Yeah!

Friday, July 07, 2006

FIFA-ooey

la juga bonita indeed

By Way Of Greatness!

let's see....what to say? Oh, here's something: This past week I have been hanging out with all kinds of famous and elite people. Big shots at National Public Radio, lawyers who figure out how old super-rich people can guard their money from their awesome rich children, various non-profit do-gooders, etc. I also ate a pound of cow flesh on the 4th before enjoying suburban fireworks that were completely fine.

This weekend I have big plans to take advantage of some things I've been meaning to take care of. Music and whatnot. I'm also buying a loft condo as I deserve only the finest in warehouse living. Other than that not much is new.

I talked to An Doof Ass for about an hour a while ago. He was drunk as 5 year old and no doubt was chain smoking during the conversation. I told him to straighten up his life but I don't think he heard me as he was vomiting whisky at the time.

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Working Boy: So how's graduate school.
An Doof Ass: Oh it's so awesome. I spend all my time at drunkenings in West Chester.
W.B: For shame, An Doof Ass. Instead, you should take advantage of the great privilege afforded you by graduate school.
A.D.A: Whatever man, I just want to have fun and never worry about anything. You know, live the high life--drink Grey Wolf vodka and smoke Pall Mall cigarettes while scratching lotto tickets in my efficiency apartment somewhere in Buffalo.
W.B: You should seek counseling for your many vices and shortcomings. I say this out of the care and concern that have won me many friendships and the limitless affection of even the most casual of acquaintance.
A.D.A: Forget it! Sure I cry myself to sleep every night due to loneliness and my universally distasteful manner, but I won't change because I know nothing but this low road of physical, moral and emotional depravity.
W.B: I apologize but I must say goodbye. I have sworn an oath to give orphans free haircuts before serving them a homemade Italian feast prepared by some attractive, rich friends of mine who like totally think I'm the funniest guy they know.
A.D.A: What was that? I couldn't hear you as I was cleaning out my ears with a dubious object I found under my soiled couch.

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With that I wish you all a wonderful weekend. I have big plans in the coming weeks and hope to take pictures of my many adventures and post them on the internet as that is some cutting-edge savvy tech stuff that I've gotten in on the ground floor of.