Miss Alva Puffy Face

Oh No! Say it ain’t so!! My beautiful baby dog (Miss Alva to you) got bit by something nasty last night. This morning I woke to see her covered in hives and with a face about double the fatness of normal. Thankfully our vet was able to see her right away and with a couple of quick shots she was treated. She is definitely looking better 15 hours later, but still not back to normal. I had to administer some more Prednisone about two hours ago, so hopefully by morning she will be back to her normal self. Oh, poor Alva Dog!

Images From The Left Coast

Page is on Sabbatical in San Fran. Here is what he has seen.

Party Guy

A Bunch of Melvins

Under Saudi Skies

Thank God someone in this family owns a digital camera!

Now That's What I Call A Mug Shot!

Patrick Tribett rules! I only hope that I can provide nearly as entertaining a mug shot once the Feds figure out that I’m running a farm animal prostitution ring out of my back yard.

Patrick, a nation of paint huffers salutes you! You are fighting for our freedom to huff. WARRIORS!

McRorie Came To Rock You!

Imagine if Axl Rose had some musical talent. Actually, imagine if Axl Rose had a lot of musical talent and could play all the instruments in his band by himself.

Then imagine that his songbook went well beyond November Rain and Sweet Child O’ Mine. Like, into the realm of rap, funk, country, oldies, and 70′s rock. It’s almost too much to imagine isn’t it?

With that picture in mind, I give you McRorie. This dude wails.

To a large portion of folks who see this link/artist, it will be a joke. “Oh, look at that buffoon, totally out of style and out of touch. Aren’t we so much more interesting.” And I’ve got to admit, on first look, his act can be pretty funny. But the more time you spend with McRorie, the more you realize how much of a screaming success this guy is. Sure, he may be ignored by a portion of the NYC/LAX promoter crowd, but this guy gets out there on stage every night (okay, I don’t know that he performs every night) and rocks his soul and those of his audience members for hours.

McRorie covers musical territory unlike many artists I’ve heard of. He can cover rap hits like “In Da Club” and “Bust A Move.” His range spans Old School (“The Message”) and New School (“Hey Ya”). He knows old time rock and roll, like Elvis’ “All Shook Up” and can swing right into a Kylie Minogue pop hit. McRorie ain’t afraid to perform moving ballads like “Imagine” or “What A Wonderful World,” yet can rock you to St. Louis and back with tunes from Judas Priest, The Doors and KISS. He has also built up a repertoire of original classics.

So, basically we’re all sitting around tapping on keyboards and laughing while this guy is out there living his dream. He gets to schedule the gigs he wants, play the music he wants and have rad personal style. Try pulling that off with your elastic waistband pants and Treo 650. McRorie is amazing and I’d love to see him perform live someday.

For those about to rock, McRorie, we salute you.

I Am Kip Dynamite

Okay! Time for another stupid web quiz slash movie review. Which Napoleon Dynamite character are you? Apparently, I am Kip Dynamite and I love technology.

Napoleon Dynamite has to be my favorite movie from 2004. If you haven’t seen it, then you should check out the Official website and perhaps the trailer at Apple.com. If you really want to mix and match and get this party started right, then you’ll want to check out the samplings of two (not one, but TWO!) Napoleon Dynamite soundboards! #1 & #2

For as much as I and others love this film, I have bumped into a large number of folks who didn’t. These people are the “Haters.” Now, there could be many reasons why the haters didn’t like Napoleon Dynamite. For one, it is not an action-packed blockbuster. And fer two, there ain’t no big name stars in it prancing around like they’re the cock of the walk. This movie makes its points via subtlety and dry humor — two of my favorite things in life. But probably most obvious to me is the fact that none of the haters ever had any ability to identify with the characters.

The nerds. Dweebs. Geeks. Losers. And total wusses. Those are the primary characters in Napoleon Dynamite and perhaps why I liked it so much. For freakin’ once I could watch a movie that didn’t have 62 year old Bruce Willis blowing shit up and acting like a bad-ass. And no Jackie Chan/Chris Tucker comedy kung fu combo garbage either. Nope. This actually felt like it was a real story with real characters. Perhaps that gleeful dose of reality is what prevented some from enjoying the film. I, on the other hand, felt like I was watching an Idaho-adapted version of my life.

It’s the truth. Most of my life, I have been a pretty tight analog of Napoleon himself. Nerdy, out of place, definitely not beefcake. Also, we both like to dance and have an affinity for long sighs to exhibit our disgust. Certainly our ability to woo women is on the same plane (imagine a very low-flying plane, if you will). So following along with the main character was like viewing a recreation of my high school years. In a word, painful.

It’s funny that the test pegged me as Kip, however. All throughout the film, I was admiring Kip for his computer hacking skills and his ability to sweet-talk the ladies. I just kept thinking “Man, I’ve gotta be more like Kip. He is gettin’ with all the fine women.” But to be completely honest, these days I’m feeling more and more like Uncle Rico (the washed-up loser still livin’ in ’82), but the test said Kip so who am I to question it?

It's Dat Woo! Woooo!!

When will the Whistlas hit the East Coast?? No one knows!
Exhaust whistle tips that can be heard for miles!
Now that is style.

The Whistle Tip interview that started it all.

The Official Bubb Rubb Soundboard!

Bubb Rubb and Lil Sis pics

“Yeah I got it on my car!” – Lil Sis

Alan Embraces 21st Century Computing

Today was a lot like Christmas. It was a crisp, beautiful Saturday — blue skies, perfect temps and endless sunshine. (Just what the Doctor ordered.) And a friend of mine who had been coveting a Mac Mini for some time took the plunge. Amen! Another convert (and another kickback for me from Apple HQ).

[For $599 you get a 1.42 GHz G4 processor, 80 GB disk storage and DVD-playing/CD-burning combo drive, all in the tightest, most portable package available. (Plus a bunch of Apple software and, of course, the pièce de résistance OS X.) Sounds like Apple is ready to make headway into the lower-priced computing market. All you need to add is one figgity-fat stick of DDR RAM to complete the package.]

Alan was smiling and giddy like a little kid the whole ride back. Plus he was cradling the computer in his lap as if it was a newborn (which, in a way, it most certainly is). It was hysterical. Best wishes to Alan and his new baby. (And since he now has a Mac, we can expect a bunch of kick-ass shit on his websites any day now.)

I didn’t buy anything (thank goodness!), but I did have a fun time joking around with the saleswoman. We wanted to record this historic purchase with our fancy digital cameras, but were informed that Apple does not allow any photographs to be taken inside their stores. As soon as the shutter clicked, giant, robotic gorillas descended from the ceiling and began pummelling us about the head and neck. We barely made it out of the store, but we got what we came for.

Amanda Egge Is So Hot

Okay, so I just discovered Amanda Egge today (as a result of her posting a comment to the Terri Schiavo blog), but I’m captivated by the image of her as “Bambi” working for K-Mart. HOT!

So she is a comedian and (just like all other women I’m interested in) she lives far far away from me. This sucks big time, but I’m probably too small a fish to swim with this California girl anyways. Regardless, given the opportunity I would like to be sandwiched between Amanda and her photoshop skillz winner, Carrie Higgins. Why can’t I find women like this on the East Coast?

I would like her to drop by and give me some lessons in stand-up comedy. In exchange, I would be happy to turn her on to Yoga Booty Ballet. (I can’t believe they stole my idea of incorporating booty dancing with yoga).

You Funny Little Man

Man, I can’t believe it. 37.

I just don’t understand it. Mitch Hedberg worked hard at being one of the funniest people on this planet and he was successful. Very successful, as far as I could tell. Definitely one of my beacons of light along the dark path of the last decade. I guess I should consider myself lucky for having seen him perform in Raleigh (thanks to the ticket-getting prowess of the Lint Queen) and even getting to chat with him after the show. What a genuinely sweet, talented individual.

But instead I’m just pissed off with no target for my invective. I guess I should be mad at heroin for continually fucking up the lives of people I adore, but the problem is much more complex than that and I’m left with nothing but frustration. Yes — these are adults who are willfully choosing to mess with that garbage, but why? What is driving them to do so? Goddamn. FUCK!

Life is unfair. Don’t get hung up on what you ain’t got or what ain’t working out for you. Instead, figure out what you do best and what makes you happiest and do it for the rest of your life (a la Rushmore). Goodbye, Mitch. I’m very sorry to see you leave the stage so soon. I’ll never look at turkeys the same way ever again.

Obligatory Hunter S. Thompson post

I got the first news of Doctor Gonzo’s passing exactly a week ago. It was certainly tragic, exactly as it was designed to be. The end of another high-profile career for the news media to feed upon and for the national conscience to absorb. I’m not exactly sure how far-reaching the impact would be based on the relative obscurity of the author. Hunter S. Thompson was legend amongst most of the folks I know, but I still wouldn’t consider his works widely read. And with the way his career trickled out over the past decade or so, I found it interesting that so many were crushed by the loss. I guess it is hard losing your favorite author, musician, artist, whatever, no matter how well you don’t actually know them. So, like most fringe culture geeks I was pretty bummed out about his passing and spent a lot of time thinking about that old madman journalist that I got to know well over a decade ago.

Someone posted a link to Todd Mormon’s write-up which linked to several good bits on the web about Hunter. I felt quite moved by the people showing their feelings about him, even those whose only real response was “F. U.” These folks got lightly flamed for their posts, but I believe they were entirely valid and would be an opinion essentially espoused by the person being mourned. Oh, the irony of it all. Probably the best piece I read was Kurt Loder’s essay for VH-1. I think he hit the nail on the head with regards to the value of Thompson’s writing style not simply existing in a hallucination-induced vaccuum, but that he was indeed a gifted (some would say “uniquely blessed”) individual with solid writing experience. Of course, Kurt has the benefit of a career in entertainment journalism and the advanced age to have experienced many of the same waves and shifts as HST did.

I would say that my opinion on the matter changed significantly a few days later when it was revealed that he blew his head off while talking to his wife on the telephone. This news made me draw myself up and think “That ain’t right” and this put a tiny chink in my recollections of the talented author. Then, unfortunately, I found out that his son, daughter-in-law and 6-year-old grandson were actually in the house at the time of his suicide. At this point it was difficult for me to think anything good about HST. I couldn’t believe he would be so willing to place this blemish upon his close family members. Arguably, any suicide is incredibly painful for family and friends. But to perform such a violent act within earshot of a 6-year-old? Behavior such as this is beyond the pale, if you asked me.

So shine on you crazy demon. Happy trails you fool. Sorry you had to leave so soon.