Author: mrunstoppable

Brent’s 1/2 List of 2006 Music

Pleas add to these lists. A new CD is just a friend you haven’t made yet!

1) Beirut – Gulag Orkestrar – I am a fool for this type of music. It’s like Nick Cave got into a fight with Neutral Milk Hotel.

2) El Perro del Mar – El Perro del Mar – This is like Nico got into a fight with Neil Young.

3)Girl Talk – Night Ripper – This is like all the pop music since the 60’s getting into a fight with eachother. And rap wins most of the time.

4) Bruce Springsteen – We Shall Overcome – This is like Bruce Springsteen got into a fight with Tom Waits.

5) Neko Case – Fox Confessor Brings the Flood – This wins my award for best lyrics. It’s not even close. Plus she has a badass voice.

Music from 2005 that for one reason or another I am just now appreciating:

1) Broken Social Scene – Broken Social Scene – I recommend listening to this backwards from “It’s All Gonna Break” I didn’t like this for the longest. Then I hooked onto that one song. Now it’s so awesome.

2) The Brunette’s – Mars Loves Venus – I saw them open for The Shins and C.Y.H.S.Y, and they were better than both. I finally founds this CD used, but then it was in Chelsey’s car stereo when it got jacked. Too bad we already had a copy on the computer. Take that asshole stereo stealers!

3) Martha Wainwright – Martha Wainwright – She has this song called “Bloody Motherfucking Asshole” on it. (Sorry Marnie) She also has a whale of a voice.

4) CocoRosie – Noah’s Arc – This music is creepy. They have a dying cat sound. Throughout an entire song. What more can one ask for?

5) Andrew Bird – Andrew Bird and The Mysterious Production of Eggs – I had this and barely liked it for half a year or so. Then Sufjan Stevens’ Illinois cd made me appreciate it. It’s like this is the appetizer, and Illinois is the main course.

Baseball All Star Game = Grilling and Beer = Guns Shooting in Air

 

Bo Jackson: Badassboggs_wade_1.jpgburt.jpg

I watch the All-Star game every year.  I always hope it’s gonna be like that one where Bo Jackson hits the homer, and then Wade Boggs homers right after that.  I remember that one like it was yesterday.  My uncle jack was there.  Bo Jackson was a badass.  And he had the best shoe.  Many people don’t realize he invented those cross trainers himself.  Then he got fat, and tried to sell power bars.  He also ran over Brian Bosworth, which was one of the greatest things that has ever happened ever.  Wade Boggs was a cheeseball.  I hate him.  One thing that you find out when you get older is that all the guys who wore cheesy mustaches in the 80’s really were cheeseballs.  They weren’t just victims of the time.  Mike Schmidt is another example.  I’m sure Tom Selek is a dope too.  And I think Burt Reynolds’ cheesiness is well documented from his time on Win, Lose or Draw.  Maybe it’s not the mustaches though.  Maybe it’s the matching gold chain.  Or maybe it’s a convertable thing.  I will never know, because I’m too busy with other stuff.  Like cooking food and drinking beer and watching basball players in their tight pants.

Vermont

 

 

 vermont1.jpg

Vermont has the very best state-themed quarter.  It’s a lonely figure gathering syrup, I think.  Either that or it could be a drummer in the colonial army hanging drums on various trees.  But it looks so sad.  It really captures what it means to be alive.  You are sad, but you are always in the mood for some syrup.  Thank you Vermont.  Thanks for not putting your state bird on your quarter. 

Saints=Suck

I’d like to be the first to welcome Reggie Bush to the Saints. It’s all downhill from here, Reggie. Talk to Ricky Williams about how accomplished the Saints are at turning a college stud into a chump. God help you. It’s bad enough you have jerks for parents. Now you have to overcome playing for the suckiest bunch of sucks that ever sucked in the NFL.

P.S. over/under on The Saints leaving New Orleans: 10 months.

Top 10 Things Brent Hopes to Fix in 2006

10) This paper shredder that I bought at Goodwill and only works in reverse. It seems like I should be able to fix it, but I have no patience. Failing that, I will nail all the furniture to the ceiling and start living upside down.

9) The fence that the faux-tornado blew over last Thursday. Me and my brother digging holes. Sweaty. Shirts Off. Flab Everywhere.

8) My relationship with Yancey Clayton. I want to stay with him this summer in Chicago. Yancey…call me.

7) My slip n’ slide. We really screwed it up last year, because grown ups aren’t meant to slip or slide. Enhancements will include making it longer and softer, and possible splash poll ending.

6) My bed. I have a huge divot in the middle. My fix will be to pile up the perfect amount bedding under my mattress. I currently have too much bedding, which means my divot has become a hump.

5) That hole my butt made in the wall at Peter’s old apartment

4) My face. I want to be pretty.

3) That “Deuce is Loose” t-shirt I tried to make Kent in 2003. I pulled it out the other day, and it currently reads “D uc i oose,” which is actaully a pretty good looking T-Shirt. But I still have the letters, and I’m going to make it happen. Then I’m going to start making “NASA=Bad” t-shirts.

2) Our porch swing. It’s only for looking at right now. My brother and I broke it last year, which was humiliating. Especially since we not only pulled it out of the ceiling, but also broke the swing with our butts. All while falling on our asses. This year things will be different.

1) A key lime pie from scratch

Sledding is Painful

Yesterday and the day before that I went sledding.  I couldn’t find an actual sled, so i bought these car-floor-mat-sized peices of vinyl.  It turns out that there is this bitching hill for sledding in park behind my house.  In two days of sledding, I have established the following list of pointers:

 1) Get an actual sled.  I know this is self-explanatory, but I cannot stress enough the feeling of security one gets, knowing that they are not going to spin around and end up going down a hill at 45mph while looking the other way.  This is especially true when there is a tree centered in the middle of your hill that will likely kill you if you hit it.  I assume the spinning while sledding phenomenon has been addressed and solved by those who make actual sleds. 

 2) Drink first.  This helps on 3 fronts:  Pain mangement, Cold Tolerance, and Courage.  

      Pain – Sledding hurts not only your butt, but your arm, if you accidentally slam it against a chain link fence. 

     Cold – Your butt gets so cold.  

     Courage – Thanks to my friend scotch, I was able to talk myself into going down headfirst. Which was stupid. 

 3)  Be aware that smartass indestructable kids build ramps on the hills that you cannot see, because you sled at 10pm.  When you hit those ramps you will go flying off your makeshift sled and proceed to slide down the rest of the hill on your back.  Which is fun, but leads to more butt pain, and butt coldness. 

4) Try to double-up on the “sled”.  This takes all the earlier issues, and makes them twice as bad, because you are going much faster, and your partner is you fiance, meaning one false move will kill you both and cancel your wedding.  Which means you don’t have to worry about planning the food for the wedding anymore.

Happy Sledding!

I like you.

Today I was trying to get a welfare participant to come in for her appointment with me, so that I would not have to close her case.  I was explaining that the previous appointment she had missed would not be a problem, as long as she came her rescheduled appointment.  I told her to make sure she came to this second appointment, and she gave me a lengthy reassurance that she would be there.  My response to this shocked us both, I think.  I meant to say “Sounds good to me” or “Great, I’ll see you then.” 

What came out was “I like you.” 

I am an imbecile on the phone.  What followed was a brief moment of uncomfortable silence, before she said something like “OK, I’ll be there.”  We both got off the phone as soon as possible, and we both (I assume) wondered why I just told a 45 year old black woman that I liked her. 

My coworkers (who know that I am an ass) tried to reassure me, telling me that they had inadvertently told clients that they loved them in the past.  Yet this seems understandable.  One gets in the habit of ending a conversation with “I love you” when they are talking to their significant others.  No one says “I like you.”  Because it’s a creepy-ass thing to say.  Psycho-killers, the deranged, and weird children…that’s who says it.  Proud company indeed.

 So now I am left try to put this phrase into common usage, so I don’t feel so creepy for having said it.  I now tell people I like them every chance I get, and I encourage them to do the same.  This stigma must be defeated. 

That said, I would like to let each of you know that I like you very much.  Please pass this on.  It feels creepy at first, but gets better.