come back home when you've learned to sparkle

On Friday night, Dollie picked up some goodies on a trip to a magazine archive that is going out of business. She got me a 1948 issue of House Beautiful (eee!). She also got me the 1975 Playboy calendar (you know, because 1975 is our year and all). I have never seen so many real naked breasts. Wow. If I were really into naked women — you know, like a straight dude or a lesbian is — I would be very angry about fake boobs. Because they are awful. It took the 1975 Playboy calendar to teach me this for real.

Oh my God, when Goose from Grease 2 was on "Fat Actress" playing the crackhead brother? That was awesome.

Also awesome? Joel Plaskett in Toro. Yes, Scott Speedman is on the cover, but look past that. Mr. Plaskett likes the way Saskatchewan rolls off the tongue. So do I. See how much I have in common with genius musicians?

And you can watch a new Sloan video here if you like. The signed DVD set is sold out. Thanks for the (nonexistant) email announcement letting me know about the preorder, butts. Ugh. Oh, and if that "excuse me while I fall out of a station wagon while filming you running down the street" scene is on the DVD and I don't get credit, ooh, there will be trouble. See, now I'm cranky. Thanks, Sloan. And those fuckers — yes, fuckers — at MapleMusic, who STOLE $20 of my shipping money and still haven't shipped the Joel record. Because clearly I would opt for rush shipping to happen AFTER you sit on the order for 10 forevers. Damn Canadians.

Screw them. I'm doing my nails.

somebody kicked out her cornerstone

I'm sorry, did I forget to mention that The Deadly Snakes have a double album coming soon? DOUBLE album? Because they do, and that is amazing. But I did just find out this minute, so it isn't that I forgot to mention it so much as I had no idea. It is called Porchella. Sounds good to me.

Also, if you happened to be spying the Best Record Ever whatever issue of Chart magazine and looked at Jay's sweater and said, "Hey, that looks so familiar. And yet I feel like that sweater is not Jay's," you are right. I think, unless they found a clone sweater. But yeah, that sweater, on that cover used to live in my house, kind of like how the famous Joel Plaskett orange cowboy shirt used to live on Joel and now it lives in my house. It is like a halfway house for rock star threads. Or something.

Danko Jones may be playing in a city near you! Please investigate for yourself. I can't even see Dr. Evening because my local show sold out. Whatever. Remember when I used to go see all of these damn bands and no one was else was hardly even there? You know, like the Dears and Stars and all them? Because now everything sells out, like a bitch. Like a darn tootin' sellout bitch. Because I like something, and then punks jump up three-to-nine years later and hop all on it.

Oh no, I turned crazy.

I'm not your plaything

I saw Scott Fellers last night. "We have to stop meeting like this," I told him. Well, not really. I didn't actually tell him anything. But I did feel the love. And although Aaron might get special feelings off of Jon Benjamin, I am a Scott Fellers lady all the way. It isn't the company. It's the puppet. And a little bit maybe the man behind the puppet, but that's the other Jon.

The show went on for six years. And as I walked out when it ended, a famous comedian who shall remain nameless said to his friend, "How long was that, four hours?" And I laughed, and he laughed. So I laughed with a famous comedian. It was great.

So I lost a little bit of the usual (pathetic) 6 hours of sleep I usually get. Working crazy hours, people sometimes wonder when I make up the sleep. And the answer is "never." Even on the weekend I have found it physically impossible to sleep past 8, which sucks. And I'm useless after a nap. Though I will need to try one tomorrow, because I think I am going out tomorrow night. That should be interesting.

At work a very great person left, and that was sad to me. He even worked in the super early morning with me, so it was doubly sad. But they replaced him with someone else I am quite fond of, so that's good.

What else? I don't know. Ugh, two weeks to not say anything is too long, and you'd think I might then have something to say. But I guess not.

no surprises please

If anyone has the inside scoop on who Tyra is screaming at to shut up on the next episode of "America's Next Top Model," please tell me. I must know. I can't even wait another day, never mind another week.

That is all for now.

that was a Japanese dream alright

Holy heavenly holiness, me and hot Matsui have the same birthday. EXACTLY the same birthday. Clearly, we are twins. We're both totally foxy and switch hitters.

Hey now.

Don't be jealous that you didn't think of that awesome joke, people of the sky.

Delirous, clearly. But Kaz will do that to you.

it's almost hilarious, but it's not

You know all those sites that everyone loves and I always think, "Uh, maybe if they knew what they were talking about more like 75% of the time, maybe. But not, so no," but I still read some of them? Yeah. So anyway, almost as if to serve as a shining beacon-like example of Lame, Gawker calls readers lame for assuming the site wasn't lame-ass lame enough to pull a totally lame April Fools lamefest. Readers, assuming that the site you read isn't lame is a lovely vote of confidence, but get real. Gawker, stay lame this summer. Don't change. K.I.T., lame-o, etc.

In other "Yes, I am a dork. Here is one more link from the Internets!" news, Right on. This is what I would say if I could say more than just "Ugh."