Show last night was the horrible. Horrible. Oh well, you persevere, do the best you can, and learn what you can from it. There will always be a next show, another crowd. The slate is wiped clean for every new show, and every crowd, big, small, drunk, sober, bad, or good is a gift and another chance to do what you love to do.
Old school funny. He looks weird with hair. Arguably the first, and maybe greatest, of the "cringe" school of comedy, which also includes guys like Jim Norton and Greg Giraldo. If I had to pigeon-hole a genre I belong in, it's cringe.
You may think that I let a lot of myself show through on this here blog. I don't. You don't know a goddamn thing about me that I don't want you to know. There are things in my soul, peculiarities and motivations, that I do not fully understand, and my struggle with them is a private, internal one. There are things in my soul, desires and habits, that in society's collective mind are destructive and wrong. A lot of the me you've come to know is a work of elaborate fiction. A lot of me is more passion-filled and interested than I seem. A lot of me just... is.
We saw an incredibly drunk girl last night. No money, no jacket in the 25 degree weather, no friends around her, and no chance for a positive end to the evening, save for the people who basically ended their evening to help her. This girl could not walk unassisted. She was lucky she didn't get killed in Carson Street traffic, and even luckier she didn't run into someone like me in a dark alley.
Iraq doesn't have a cool slang name yet, we should change that.-BK
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Not in this neighborhood.
My eyeglasses smell like a bar. Smoky.
Professionals at work.
The laziness of the day is evident via this post.
Never in a bathtub, actually.-BK
Professionals at work.
The laziness of the day is evident via this post.
Never in a bathtub, actually.-BK
Friday, February 27, 2009
Gotta get rolling on this.
My grandmother, who is a total badass just like her children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, is now on Facebook. I have no idea how I feel about this development.
At twenty-five years old, I can finally use a fax machine totally unassisted. I am progressing faster than the doctors told my parents I would. Soon, I hope to be entirely toilet trained. I once threw used toilet paper into my garbage. Couldn't figure out what the smell was. Made sure I didn't get poop on the underside of the seat and everything. Life is so confusing...
...sometimes, it's like my mind is playing tricks on me, or something like that.
My set went well last night. I like making people laugh. It's fun.
The new Depeche Mode single "Wrong" is making it's way around the internet. It's dark, tight, and filled with insanely good hooks. Keep your ear open. It will sound different than most of the other shit record companies drop these days, but remember: different is better.
He. is. the. BEST! The. BEST!
Eating with friends at two-thirty in the morning was fun. Except for the broad in the booth directly behind me. She was coughing like she had tuberculosis, which at that hour, in that neighborhood, she very well might of.
I am tapering off the ferocity of my drinking. My goal is to get down to a point where I can quit entirely for a few months again. Need to keep the eye of the tiger with this new house bullshit. Right now, I'm actually able to remember my drives home immediately the next morning. I know, I know, it's impressive. I'm not arguing that.
Derby is cool, but if I'm going to watch things go around in circles, I prefer they have engines, or be topless.-BK
At twenty-five years old, I can finally use a fax machine totally unassisted. I am progressing faster than the doctors told my parents I would. Soon, I hope to be entirely toilet trained. I once threw used toilet paper into my garbage. Couldn't figure out what the smell was. Made sure I didn't get poop on the underside of the seat and everything. Life is so confusing...
...sometimes, it's like my mind is playing tricks on me, or something like that.
My set went well last night. I like making people laugh. It's fun.
The new Depeche Mode single "Wrong" is making it's way around the internet. It's dark, tight, and filled with insanely good hooks. Keep your ear open. It will sound different than most of the other shit record companies drop these days, but remember: different is better.
He. is. the. BEST! The. BEST!
Eating with friends at two-thirty in the morning was fun. Except for the broad in the booth directly behind me. She was coughing like she had tuberculosis, which at that hour, in that neighborhood, she very well might of.
I am tapering off the ferocity of my drinking. My goal is to get down to a point where I can quit entirely for a few months again. Need to keep the eye of the tiger with this new house bullshit. Right now, I'm actually able to remember my drives home immediately the next morning. I know, I know, it's impressive. I'm not arguing that.
Derby is cool, but if I'm going to watch things go around in circles, I prefer they have engines, or be topless.-BK
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Katy Perry Mason.
Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork. I have signed my name a hundred times and am not even close to being done.
Shirt and tie hunting for a theme party I'm attending Friday. I already have the hat, and my purple sportcoat will do nicely. It's going to be totally fab. Since the death of Ceremony, I haven't had much of a reason to dress to the nines. Shiny shoes will be worn.
Hobbling out to The St. James Place Tavern to tell some jokes, drink beer, and relish existence outside of my bedroom tonight.
I do not drink PBR. I was raised better than that. I was raised on class. I was raised on quality. PBR is still good though, as everything from Wisconsin is generally good. Except for Jeffery Dahmer. He was sort of a dick, really.
One day, Old Style will become a hipster beer. I will travel to La Crosse, and blow up the brewery for the good of all mankind.
I have this pile of wool socks on my floor that just sort of stays there because I'm not working or doing anything requiring warm feet. I think I may put them in a drawer later, if I'm not to busy listening to obscure Kylie Minogue covers of Roxy Music songs.
Satan most definitely fufilled His end of this bargain. Possibly the best pop song ever written. Perfect isn't a good enough word to describe it.
You know what's retarded expensive? Kitchens. Best to never get a wife who wants a new one every ten years, "just because."
I believe I'll have grilled cheese for lunch today.
I will not relocate there.-BK
Shirt and tie hunting for a theme party I'm attending Friday. I already have the hat, and my purple sportcoat will do nicely. It's going to be totally fab. Since the death of Ceremony, I haven't had much of a reason to dress to the nines. Shiny shoes will be worn.
Hobbling out to The St. James Place Tavern to tell some jokes, drink beer, and relish existence outside of my bedroom tonight.
I do not drink PBR. I was raised better than that. I was raised on class. I was raised on quality. PBR is still good though, as everything from Wisconsin is generally good. Except for Jeffery Dahmer. He was sort of a dick, really.
One day, Old Style will become a hipster beer. I will travel to La Crosse, and blow up the brewery for the good of all mankind.
I have this pile of wool socks on my floor that just sort of stays there because I'm not working or doing anything requiring warm feet. I think I may put them in a drawer later, if I'm not to busy listening to obscure Kylie Minogue covers of Roxy Music songs.
Satan most definitely fufilled His end of this bargain. Possibly the best pop song ever written. Perfect isn't a good enough word to describe it.
You know what's retarded expensive? Kitchens. Best to never get a wife who wants a new one every ten years, "just because."
I believe I'll have grilled cheese for lunch today.
I will not relocate there.-BK
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
You know that once I start I cannot help myself.
I ate out all three meals yesterday. Bad!
Dinner with an interesting assortment of folks and a brief set of new stuff at the Moose last night. "Jew who moves to Texas" was a huge hit. Overall, it was an excellent evening, save for the legions of Griecos and Bleeths on the South Side celebrating Fat Tuesday. Ed Hardy's art, once iconic, is now totally repulsive. What I wouldn't give to have a flamethrower and immunity sometimes.
I guess I wouldn't give my arms. I'd need those to work the flamethrower.
I did not celebrate Fat Tuesday any differently than I normally celebrate Tuesday. I had some beers, ate some tasty food, told some jokes, and remained awesome.
Talked about this with an online friend last night. Lol'ed heartily for a bit.
Got my hair cut yesterday. I think it's too short, but time will tell. Which makes no sense, as, with time, my hair will be longer. Oh god.
I'm finally getting around to getting my video camera fixed. Look for more expletive-filled filth to hit YouTube in March sometime.
A master wordsmith.
I'm so bored that I'm writing a rock opera about my ceiling.-BK
Dinner with an interesting assortment of folks and a brief set of new stuff at the Moose last night. "Jew who moves to Texas" was a huge hit. Overall, it was an excellent evening, save for the legions of Griecos and Bleeths on the South Side celebrating Fat Tuesday. Ed Hardy's art, once iconic, is now totally repulsive. What I wouldn't give to have a flamethrower and immunity sometimes.
I guess I wouldn't give my arms. I'd need those to work the flamethrower.
I did not celebrate Fat Tuesday any differently than I normally celebrate Tuesday. I had some beers, ate some tasty food, told some jokes, and remained awesome.
Talked about this with an online friend last night. Lol'ed heartily for a bit.
Got my hair cut yesterday. I think it's too short, but time will tell. Which makes no sense, as, with time, my hair will be longer. Oh god.
I'm finally getting around to getting my video camera fixed. Look for more expletive-filled filth to hit YouTube in March sometime.
A master wordsmith.
I'm so bored that I'm writing a rock opera about my ceiling.-BK
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
It has a little keyboard on it.
Every Monday is fast turning into movie night for some friends and myself. It's fun. That's the point of my life, the end search, simple fun. The intent is to watch movies that are somewhat off center and intriguing. Last night, we watched Buddy Boy, which is definitely a nice little head trip of a film.
I won a Dick's Sporting Goods gift card at my work's holiday party. Since I'm not much for physically activity that ain't comedy, cycling, or sex-related, I wondered the store for a while in silent contemplation of the best way to waste the ten plastic dollars in my pocket. I decided to buy a knife, as knives are awesome, as we all know.
I've been cutting things like a motherfucker. Envelopes. Tofu. DVD wrapping. Kittens. etc... Very manly and empowered.
Speaking of cutting, I'll keep cutting up crowds tonight at The Smiling Moose, Thursday at St. James Place Tavern, and Saturday at Milestones in Brentwood. It's going to be a gay old time. Sodomy and interior decorating not included, but provided at an extra charge.
His comedy is years ahead of even the best of his peers. No one, ever, has done material on family life as raw and brutally honest as he has.
Foot continues to maintain a status of "fucked up." Off of work another week. I may need to procure more books and create more elaborate masturbatory fantasies. I'm thinking Ralph Fiennes in Schindler's List meets The View.
Since I was in the neighborhood, fat, and hungry, I went to breakfast after my appointment. Chocolate chip blueberry pancakes with a side of spicy hash browns and a Dew. If I keep it up, my network television debut may be on Oprah, where I'll appear live via-satellite from my home, which by that time, I will not have left in three or four years. They say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one.
I've always really loved the lyrics to this song, and the simplicity of it's composition. I sang along to it in the car today. I always get really, really pissed when DJ's talk over the intro to songs, right up to the point where the lyric kicks in. It aggravates the shit out of me. I don't think Berlin, as a group, said "let's make sure Johnny Records has time to talk about a breast cancer 5K here."
I've watched 14,007 YouTube videos in about the span of two years. Christ.
I was grown in a government lab to save all of mankind from themselves.-BK
I won a Dick's Sporting Goods gift card at my work's holiday party. Since I'm not much for physically activity that ain't comedy, cycling, or sex-related, I wondered the store for a while in silent contemplation of the best way to waste the ten plastic dollars in my pocket. I decided to buy a knife, as knives are awesome, as we all know.
I've been cutting things like a motherfucker. Envelopes. Tofu. DVD wrapping. Kittens. etc... Very manly and empowered.
Speaking of cutting, I'll keep cutting up crowds tonight at The Smiling Moose, Thursday at St. James Place Tavern, and Saturday at Milestones in Brentwood. It's going to be a gay old time. Sodomy and interior decorating not included, but provided at an extra charge.
His comedy is years ahead of even the best of his peers. No one, ever, has done material on family life as raw and brutally honest as he has.
Foot continues to maintain a status of "fucked up." Off of work another week. I may need to procure more books and create more elaborate masturbatory fantasies. I'm thinking Ralph Fiennes in Schindler's List meets The View.
Since I was in the neighborhood, fat, and hungry, I went to breakfast after my appointment. Chocolate chip blueberry pancakes with a side of spicy hash browns and a Dew. If I keep it up, my network television debut may be on Oprah, where I'll appear live via-satellite from my home, which by that time, I will not have left in three or four years. They say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one.
I've always really loved the lyrics to this song, and the simplicity of it's composition. I sang along to it in the car today. I always get really, really pissed when DJ's talk over the intro to songs, right up to the point where the lyric kicks in. It aggravates the shit out of me. I don't think Berlin, as a group, said "let's make sure Johnny Records has time to talk about a breast cancer 5K here."
I've watched 14,007 YouTube videos in about the span of two years. Christ.
I was grown in a government lab to save all of mankind from themselves.-BK
Monday, February 23, 2009
Fast against the wall.
Spent a good portion of my day yesterday watching wrestling on YouTube, prompted by my homie KonkDaddy's post.
As a lad/preteen, I thought wrestling was cool because of the stories. It's like a soap opera for men. As a jaded teenager/young adult, I sort of grew away from it, but I'd still give the physical ability of the performers credit. As a fully grown man-child, I really love and admire the ability of the performers, although I rarely watch anymore.
Wrestlers, good ones at least, are incredibly multifaceted and talented performers. In addition to brute strength, wrestlers move with incredible agility and athleticism for men their size,(ever see a main event superstar under 225 pounds or so?) and if you've ever seen a good pay-per-view title match, you know they have killer, almost inhuman endurance.
But that's not all. Wrestlers have to sell themselves 24/7. Whether they're a face or a heel, they need to make their respective public believe in/hate them with all of their heart. Imagine going to work and hoping to get booed all day long. Crazy.
Wrestlers wrestle hurt.
They travel incessantly.
Most careers are short.
Props to the wrestlers. Mad props, yo.
-----
Caught the last bits of the Oscars last night. Sean Penn is a classy-ass dude, and hell of an actor, but I really thought either Brad Pitt or Mickey Rourke deserved the Best Actor honors a bit more. One can only hope Mickey Rourke can get a few more roles playing characters of substance instead of generic bad guys.
Random excerpt from a conversation I was having with a friend: "I'd fuck Lisa Loeb in front of my in-laws."
I don't have in-laws, but still, I'm inclined to agree with him. Lisa Loeb makes Tina Fey look like a common street walker.
Home inspection completed. Home is structurally sound and free of pests. One step closer to whatever I'm heading towards.
I can't turn left here. Left does not exist.-BK
As a lad/preteen, I thought wrestling was cool because of the stories. It's like a soap opera for men. As a jaded teenager/young adult, I sort of grew away from it, but I'd still give the physical ability of the performers credit. As a fully grown man-child, I really love and admire the ability of the performers, although I rarely watch anymore.
Wrestlers, good ones at least, are incredibly multifaceted and talented performers. In addition to brute strength, wrestlers move with incredible agility and athleticism for men their size,(ever see a main event superstar under 225 pounds or so?) and if you've ever seen a good pay-per-view title match, you know they have killer, almost inhuman endurance.
But that's not all. Wrestlers have to sell themselves 24/7. Whether they're a face or a heel, they need to make their respective public believe in/hate them with all of their heart. Imagine going to work and hoping to get booed all day long. Crazy.
Wrestlers wrestle hurt.
They travel incessantly.
Most careers are short.
Props to the wrestlers. Mad props, yo.
-----
Caught the last bits of the Oscars last night. Sean Penn is a classy-ass dude, and hell of an actor, but I really thought either Brad Pitt or Mickey Rourke deserved the Best Actor honors a bit more. One can only hope Mickey Rourke can get a few more roles playing characters of substance instead of generic bad guys.
Random excerpt from a conversation I was having with a friend: "I'd fuck Lisa Loeb in front of my in-laws."
I don't have in-laws, but still, I'm inclined to agree with him. Lisa Loeb makes Tina Fey look like a common street walker.
Home inspection completed. Home is structurally sound and free of pests. One step closer to whatever I'm heading towards.
I can't turn left here. Left does not exist.-BK
Sunday, February 22, 2009
My own Hell to raise.
Show last night was good. New material hit like I wanted it to hit, and the callback I used about 74 times seemed to keep the crowd a laughing.
Afterwards, I hung out at my usual stomping ground, although I did no stomping whatsoever.
I'm getting used to standing with all my weight on my left foot. Right foot shows no signs of improvement.
On today's agenda: Sloth. Not the character from The Goonies. The sin. Probably not gonna put on pants until tomorrow afternoon.
It's all about swagger.
Really, it is.(Would kill dozens of people for the chance to wear that jacket for an hour.)
I cannot believe this is real. I want so desperately to see this movie! Fuck comedy and homeownership, this is my new life mission!
Upstairs is free, and there's totally awesome music and Ben Kenny.-BK
Afterwards, I hung out at my usual stomping ground, although I did no stomping whatsoever.
I'm getting used to standing with all my weight on my left foot. Right foot shows no signs of improvement.
On today's agenda: Sloth. Not the character from The Goonies. The sin. Probably not gonna put on pants until tomorrow afternoon.
It's all about swagger.
Really, it is.(Would kill dozens of people for the chance to wear that jacket for an hour.)
I cannot believe this is real. I want so desperately to see this movie! Fuck comedy and homeownership, this is my new life mission!
Upstairs is free, and there's totally awesome music and Ben Kenny.-BK
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Brutal truths.
Listened to The White Stripes all day. They rock more in three minutes than many bands do in entire albums. I think it's because they really have no stated goal to their music. They just get to rocking quite quickly, and wrap it up really quick.
3:03
3:31
2:46
More laying about the house today before the show tonight.
Home inspection on Monday. Nervous, even though I don't need to be.
Doctor on Tuesday. My foot don't feel no better!
It's even shittier on IMAX.-BK
3:03
3:31
2:46
More laying about the house today before the show tonight.
Home inspection on Monday. Nervous, even though I don't need to be.
Doctor on Tuesday. My foot don't feel no better!
It's even shittier on IMAX.-BK
Friday, February 20, 2009
My every thought of her is lewd and unbecoming of a gentleman.
This recumbency I've been experiencing as of late is driving my ass insane. Don't get me wrong, I'm lazy as fuck, but when forced to be lazy, well, it's hard, OK? It's hard.
My walls are white. I rent. I don't bother to buy art for them. Nothing to stare at. My television can only play so many obscure horror films and episodes of South Park a day. I may go to a museum tomorrow and get myself one of those nifty old people/morbidly obese people scooters to scoot around on. Should be a fun way to whittle away the time. If I don't have to pay out my ass for parking and admission, that is. Aw fuck it, I've seen most of Warhol's stuff anyways. Pittsburgh is Warhol-centric, if you didn't know. As a town, "we" tend to cling to people and things from here, even if those people and things don't always care or need to cling back to us.
Speaking of...
Girl Talk's genius is virtually unparalleled. Formerly a biomedical engineer from just outside of the Iron City, he hears things that no one else can hear, and then he makes them happy. I took my shirt off at his concert once, right after I moved here, and well before he broke. It was an epic, super-mega-fun-dance-like-crazy time. Gregg Gillis for president of being "down."
There seems to always be a stupid amount of drama in the Pittsburgh comedy "scene." People forget that comedy is one of the simplest forms of entertainment, with a clear goal and no rules on how to achieve that goal: Just fucking make them laugh. Make them laugh hard, make them laugh long, and make them laugh from their guts, from their souls, and from the places where political correctness and morals are afraid to go. I can do that, and will do that, until I die. For me, comedy is selfish. I don't care about other comics' success, growth, or failure. I don't care about writing more or less material. It doesn't matter if I'm not welcome in certain rooms. All I care about, every time I perform, is making people laugh. It is a drug unlike any other I've encountered, and it's grip is indescribably powerful. I'm not here to be famous, likable, relatable, or your friend. I'm here to make people laugh. Sometimes I lose sight of that, but it's coming back into focus as of late.
Tried to write busted foot-immobility jokes. Failed!
Expect me to be less of an emo bitch and much more of a whimsical motherfucker on Saturday at Gorman's. Show starts around nine. Holla at me for directions or just Google Map that shit. You can also see the place I'm buying. It's at 54 Highland Ave, McKees Rocks, PA. 15136. Google Maps is tight. Friends have asked when the housewarming party is. Motherfuckers, it's going to be a housewarming YEAR!!!!!
The best songwriters in the world usually aren't the most popular songwriters in the world. Just like with comedians, politicians, and whores.
David Mamet is pretty much as awesome as writer-directors come. In a time when many other writers are examining the human condition and doing other pussy-ass stuff like exploring feelings, his work is usually unapologetically masculine and male-oriented. It's still well-written and well-made, but it's made to appeal to man's desire to be badass and kill. His dialogue is so good it gives my cerebral cortex an erection.
I've put this up before, but this is as good as writing can get. Baldwin dominates this scene with it, which is no small task against these actors.
Hippitus hoppitus.-BK
My walls are white. I rent. I don't bother to buy art for them. Nothing to stare at. My television can only play so many obscure horror films and episodes of South Park a day. I may go to a museum tomorrow and get myself one of those nifty old people/morbidly obese people scooters to scoot around on. Should be a fun way to whittle away the time. If I don't have to pay out my ass for parking and admission, that is. Aw fuck it, I've seen most of Warhol's stuff anyways. Pittsburgh is Warhol-centric, if you didn't know. As a town, "we" tend to cling to people and things from here, even if those people and things don't always care or need to cling back to us.
Speaking of...
Girl Talk's genius is virtually unparalleled. Formerly a biomedical engineer from just outside of the Iron City, he hears things that no one else can hear, and then he makes them happy. I took my shirt off at his concert once, right after I moved here, and well before he broke. It was an epic, super-mega-fun-dance-like-crazy time. Gregg Gillis for president of being "down."
There seems to always be a stupid amount of drama in the Pittsburgh comedy "scene." People forget that comedy is one of the simplest forms of entertainment, with a clear goal and no rules on how to achieve that goal: Just fucking make them laugh. Make them laugh hard, make them laugh long, and make them laugh from their guts, from their souls, and from the places where political correctness and morals are afraid to go. I can do that, and will do that, until I die. For me, comedy is selfish. I don't care about other comics' success, growth, or failure. I don't care about writing more or less material. It doesn't matter if I'm not welcome in certain rooms. All I care about, every time I perform, is making people laugh. It is a drug unlike any other I've encountered, and it's grip is indescribably powerful. I'm not here to be famous, likable, relatable, or your friend. I'm here to make people laugh. Sometimes I lose sight of that, but it's coming back into focus as of late.
Tried to write busted foot-immobility jokes. Failed!
Expect me to be less of an emo bitch and much more of a whimsical motherfucker on Saturday at Gorman's. Show starts around nine. Holla at me for directions or just Google Map that shit. You can also see the place I'm buying. It's at 54 Highland Ave, McKees Rocks, PA. 15136. Google Maps is tight. Friends have asked when the housewarming party is. Motherfuckers, it's going to be a housewarming YEAR!!!!!
The best songwriters in the world usually aren't the most popular songwriters in the world. Just like with comedians, politicians, and whores.
David Mamet is pretty much as awesome as writer-directors come. In a time when many other writers are examining the human condition and doing other pussy-ass stuff like exploring feelings, his work is usually unapologetically masculine and male-oriented. It's still well-written and well-made, but it's made to appeal to man's desire to be badass and kill. His dialogue is so good it gives my cerebral cortex an erection.
I've put this up before, but this is as good as writing can get. Baldwin dominates this scene with it, which is no small task against these actors.
Hippitus hoppitus.-BK
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Drew a firearm during league play.
Helen's Kitchen Tofu Steaks. Super good. Two thumbs up. In fact, if I could somehow surgically graft functioning thumbs onto my forearms, I'd put those up too. I may dice one up and stir-fry some shit with it tomorrow.
I need to buy Bocelli's stuff. I think this song is about getting a blow job behind a gas station, but I'm not 100% sure. I do know that it's beautiful to the ear.
This is about the time they tag-teamed the U.S. Women's soccer team's towel girl in Turin(o), I'm certain of it.
Europeans have real culture, and adore real talent, instead of just perfect, bodacious, tits and pearly white teeth. They don't think they're better than Americans, they know it!
Boy I tell ya, some people have all the luck. Or just no shame.
Infinite is just a word.-BK
I need to buy Bocelli's stuff. I think this song is about getting a blow job behind a gas station, but I'm not 100% sure. I do know that it's beautiful to the ear.
This is about the time they tag-teamed the U.S. Women's soccer team's towel girl in Turin(o), I'm certain of it.
Europeans have real culture, and adore real talent, instead of just perfect, bodacious, tits and pearly white teeth. They don't think they're better than Americans, they know it!
Boy I tell ya, some people have all the luck. Or just no shame.
Infinite is just a word.-BK
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Passionate fister.
How bad does my foot hurt?
Well, when I walked downstairs to get breakfast this morning, half-asleep, I was fully, FULLY awake by the time I got to the kitchen. I whimpered. Not grimaced or swore, but whimpered. I stood on my left leg, caught the counter, and attempted to regulate my breathing back to a normal state. I lay in bed watching movies I've watched tens of times before all day yesterday and tried not to gorge on food. I was moderately successful.
How bad does my heart hurt?
Not as bad as I'd thought it would when I said goodbye in person in December, but still pretty bad. Otis was the kind of dog that liked everyone, and in turn, everyone liked him. He wasn't aggressive or Alpha, but he wasn't one to back down from many challenges either. As a Lab, he was incredibly intelligent, and well-tuned to the inclinations of friends and family members. He knew who would pet him, who would feed him incessantly, and who would play with him. To the world and casual readers, he was just a dog, but to me he was more than a dog. He was a loyal friend, trusted confidant, and treasured companion. He was in my family's lives for fourteen years, and in mine, everyday, for eleven. He was simply an extraordinary being. Unlike friends and lovers, who we all simply replace with newer, less slutty/more awesome models, dogs have their own places in our hearts, and when they leave us, only a void that can never be filled remains.
Do you know what I'll always remember about him?
He never, not once, ever, ate his own poop or vomit. That about says it all right there.
All this time spent in recumbent positions means I'm going to be hitting the books pretty hard. A few novels, and going to the used bookstore later to see if they have some home improvement books. Over the past few years, I've slowly began to understand things about "fixin' stuff." Advanced carpentry, plumbing, and electric work are a long way off, but not as impossible as I once thought they'd be.
Watched Sex, Lies, and Videotape the other night with a few friends. What an engrossing film. Lots of little tweaks in there to keep the viewer interested and engaged.
The Moose was what it was, to use cliche terms. I showed up buzzed on pain pills and leaned against the wall while consuming unhealthy amounts of alchohol. Some douche got bounced, which was funny, as one has to be unbelievably stupid and rude to get bounced out of The Smiling Moose. It made my evening. Comedy was mediocre, but then again, so is life. Not every night is going to be a winner, although I'm still a winner. Every night.
I don't know why that car is even made.-BK
Well, when I walked downstairs to get breakfast this morning, half-asleep, I was fully, FULLY awake by the time I got to the kitchen. I whimpered. Not grimaced or swore, but whimpered. I stood on my left leg, caught the counter, and attempted to regulate my breathing back to a normal state. I lay in bed watching movies I've watched tens of times before all day yesterday and tried not to gorge on food. I was moderately successful.
How bad does my heart hurt?
Not as bad as I'd thought it would when I said goodbye in person in December, but still pretty bad. Otis was the kind of dog that liked everyone, and in turn, everyone liked him. He wasn't aggressive or Alpha, but he wasn't one to back down from many challenges either. As a Lab, he was incredibly intelligent, and well-tuned to the inclinations of friends and family members. He knew who would pet him, who would feed him incessantly, and who would play with him. To the world and casual readers, he was just a dog, but to me he was more than a dog. He was a loyal friend, trusted confidant, and treasured companion. He was in my family's lives for fourteen years, and in mine, everyday, for eleven. He was simply an extraordinary being. Unlike friends and lovers, who we all simply replace with newer, less slutty/more awesome models, dogs have their own places in our hearts, and when they leave us, only a void that can never be filled remains.
Do you know what I'll always remember about him?
He never, not once, ever, ate his own poop or vomit. That about says it all right there.
All this time spent in recumbent positions means I'm going to be hitting the books pretty hard. A few novels, and going to the used bookstore later to see if they have some home improvement books. Over the past few years, I've slowly began to understand things about "fixin' stuff." Advanced carpentry, plumbing, and electric work are a long way off, but not as impossible as I once thought they'd be.
Watched Sex, Lies, and Videotape the other night with a few friends. What an engrossing film. Lots of little tweaks in there to keep the viewer interested and engaged.
The Moose was what it was, to use cliche terms. I showed up buzzed on pain pills and leaned against the wall while consuming unhealthy amounts of alchohol. Some douche got bounced, which was funny, as one has to be unbelievably stupid and rude to get bounced out of The Smiling Moose. It made my evening. Comedy was mediocre, but then again, so is life. Not every night is going to be a winner, although I'm still a winner. Every night.
I don't know why that car is even made.-BK
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Rising Dragon Fist.
There's nothing to say.
A part of me is gone with him.
I am heartbroken.
Goodbye Otis.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I either have tendonitis or a small fracture somewhere in my right foot. Either way, I'm not allowed to be working this week. Two hours of waiting for about 12 minutes with the M.D. That folks, is why I don't go to the doctor unless taken there spraying arterial blood via ambulance. Grr. I'm pretty much confined to quarters for a while. Gotta keep the foot healthy. I could just get lazy and eventually have it cut off, but I don't think women would go for an amputee who didn't lose his appendage in the war. Not that heroic really. Just sad. I would get disability though...
Signed more real estate paperwork today. I cannot believe how many legally binding sheets of paper I've put my name on in the past few weeks, and I don't even own the property yet! I am getting closer though. I had to pay five hundred dollars today to get a home inspection. 500 dollars for a guy to walk around the place with a flashlight and amperage meter for a few hours. Though it's upsetting and a financial burden, it's cheaper than having a bathtub fall through a floor or an attic full of looted WWII era artillery shells or something. Money well spent, even if it's hard to part with.
Hey Tom Musial, your blog redesign looks tight!
Money Saving Tips from Tom Musial on Vimeo.
No offense to the great Dave Grohl intended, but Hole is/was better than Nirvana. Period. This song is better written than anything Nirvana ever put out. "Someday, you will ache like I ache." That is just killer. Killer! There is an insane genius of sorts to Courtney Love that I admire very much. The discussion is now closed. Thank you for participating.
Look for me at The Smiling Moose tonight pouring some out on the curb for my dog Otis.
This was his debut. Pretty good.-BK
Monday, February 16, 2009
Shadowboxer baby!
Foot still hurts. A lot. Visit to the company clinic is in store for later this afternoon. Not excited.
On the way home from work (which I left early from, due to pain) I stopped at Giant Eagle for a few provisions. Because I had nothing else to do and a gift card to deplete, I browsed the movie section. Low and behold, I found a copy of the original version of The Hitcher, starring C. Thomas Howell and the incomparable Rutger Hauer for only six bucks!
This is one of those overlooked films that never gets it's props, even from movie nerds. In short summation, kid picks up hitcher. The hitcher is crazy. Kid ditches hitcher. Hitcher says "aw hell no!" or something to that affect, and starts stalking the kid whilst continuing to gruesomely murder people(including an entire family). Jennifer Jason Leigh suspended between a running semi tractor and large, heavy, stationary object. It ends badly. Kid and hitcher have final showdown in desert. See it.
"Hi kid."
A lot of movies from the Eighties used the American desert as a marvelous background. They don't seem to do that much anymore. Perhaps "they" consider it cliche? I just think it looks really cool and adds to the theme of isolation that many of the films carry. Can you name other films with awesome desert backdrops?
That's right! You're ever so smart! The Wraith is hella-cool! Know of any more?
"Slam" by Onyx is somehow, someway, on my computer. I'm not sure what to make of this. Is it a desperate attempt to hold onto a rapidly fading sense of youth, or just a nice song to work out to?
I am getting old though. You wanna know why? I no longer view forty as "old."
I had a generic lentil loaf for dinner and the following day's lunch a few days ago, which put this man's songs into my head for a bit. He can fucking SING!
That was some hot patootie-style awesomeness right there!
Men of a certain age and choice in front lawn accoutrement still wear their hair like that without any sense of irony here in Pennsylvania. I think it's one of the reasons I like living here.
I used to get baked into another dimension and listen to Bat Out of Hell for hours on end. I always got super-paranoid listening to regular stoner music, so I'd listen to stuff like this, Donna Summer, or Abba, and watch The Terminator, heavily edited for basic cable. No point to that story, but it happened. Used to get stoned to Celine Dion songs too. Fuck you for judging me!
Saw The International yesterday. Other than a rad Guggenheim shootout scene, and nice locations/backdrops, it sucked. Like the last Bond film, the characters, especially the bad guys, were uninteresting and the viewer couldn't really hate them. Hence, he couldn't really root for the good guys and invest emotion in the film. Should have gone to see Coraline.
Not just a studio creation. Great adaptation! I'm throwing my Katy Perry fandom out and moving Lady Gaga into my third or fourth tier female dance/pop singer section. It exists in the library in my head. It's confusing even to me. I can't explain it.
They are embarrassing themselves and insulting his intelligence.-BK
On the way home from work (which I left early from, due to pain) I stopped at Giant Eagle for a few provisions. Because I had nothing else to do and a gift card to deplete, I browsed the movie section. Low and behold, I found a copy of the original version of The Hitcher, starring C. Thomas Howell and the incomparable Rutger Hauer for only six bucks!
This is one of those overlooked films that never gets it's props, even from movie nerds. In short summation, kid picks up hitcher. The hitcher is crazy. Kid ditches hitcher. Hitcher says "aw hell no!" or something to that affect, and starts stalking the kid whilst continuing to gruesomely murder people(including an entire family). Jennifer Jason Leigh suspended between a running semi tractor and large, heavy, stationary object. It ends badly. Kid and hitcher have final showdown in desert. See it.
"Hi kid."
A lot of movies from the Eighties used the American desert as a marvelous background. They don't seem to do that much anymore. Perhaps "they" consider it cliche? I just think it looks really cool and adds to the theme of isolation that many of the films carry. Can you name other films with awesome desert backdrops?
That's right! You're ever so smart! The Wraith is hella-cool! Know of any more?
"Slam" by Onyx is somehow, someway, on my computer. I'm not sure what to make of this. Is it a desperate attempt to hold onto a rapidly fading sense of youth, or just a nice song to work out to?
I am getting old though. You wanna know why? I no longer view forty as "old."
I had a generic lentil loaf for dinner and the following day's lunch a few days ago, which put this man's songs into my head for a bit. He can fucking SING!
That was some hot patootie-style awesomeness right there!
Men of a certain age and choice in front lawn accoutrement still wear their hair like that without any sense of irony here in Pennsylvania. I think it's one of the reasons I like living here.
I used to get baked into another dimension and listen to Bat Out of Hell for hours on end. I always got super-paranoid listening to regular stoner music, so I'd listen to stuff like this, Donna Summer, or Abba, and watch The Terminator, heavily edited for basic cable. No point to that story, but it happened. Used to get stoned to Celine Dion songs too. Fuck you for judging me!
Saw The International yesterday. Other than a rad Guggenheim shootout scene, and nice locations/backdrops, it sucked. Like the last Bond film, the characters, especially the bad guys, were uninteresting and the viewer couldn't really hate them. Hence, he couldn't really root for the good guys and invest emotion in the film. Should have gone to see Coraline.
Not just a studio creation. Great adaptation! I'm throwing my Katy Perry fandom out and moving Lady Gaga into my third or fourth tier female dance/pop singer section. It exists in the library in my head. It's confusing even to me. I can't explain it.
They are embarrassing themselves and insulting his intelligence.-BK
Sunday, February 15, 2009
The Cure - Galore
People often wonder what it is that I do all day long at work, so here it is:
I currently only work three days a week. Two consecutive double shifts and a single.
3:35 AM My cell phone's alarm(currently Mudvayne's "Happy Now") goes off. I immediately hit snooze. Sometimes I milk that extra five glorious minutes of sleep, but mostly I just lay in the dark for five minutes, put on my glasses, and think about the day ahead while becoming cogniscant and waiting for the second alarm to go off.
I'm up. If it's below freezing and/or raining/snowing, I go straight outside to my car, often in my underwear, and start it up. Gotta get those windows defrosted! I return to the house, take my morning pee, brush the teeth, apply deoderant, and dress myself.
I start with socks, usually thicker and above the ankle in height, then I pull on my long john bottoms OVER the sock. No skin is exposed at the ankle. I put on the long john top. They usually aren't from the same set. For example, yesterday I wore a light blue cotton thermal top and dark blue wool/synthetic bottom. I wear long underwear pretty much every working day of the week between late November and early March. I throw on whatever pair of work pants is clean, folded, and closest to my position. Same with a t-shirt. I'll usually don a work hoodie too. If it's going to be colder, I'll put on more shit at work. I throw on my boots and grab my pre-made and bagged supply of food for the day.
4:00 AM I leave Millvale. I try to have my musical accompaniment selected the night before. Yesterday it was Ozzy Osbourne's Ozzmosis album. I usually listen to something fast and thumping on the way in, as dawn is still a few hours a way and five hours' sleep is considered a good night for me. I may or may not kill a water bottle(filled from the tap, what am I, rich?!) on the drive. I'm a stickler for proper hydration while at work.
I take my time driving the Parkway. Often, it's so early that plows have not really been out, so things get treacherous. When the road is clear, I usually don't push it much past 60 speedwise, as I know of about 5 places cops like to sit and "protect and serve" until an above average Joe like me on his way to work speeds by at 75.
4:25-4:30 AM I'm in the parking lot at work. I park The Warrior, grab my lunch, put it into my messenger bag, throw my work badge on, check to make sure all my windows are up, hop out, shut the door, click the locks, and head in. If it's going to snow, I pull up my windshield wipers.
My walk/other drive in takes about 12 minutes. I walk through the huge PIT Airport parking lot, into the terminal, and go to the bag room. I grab a bag tug and drive about a mile to our gates. I swipe in.
I'm usually at work about ten minutes before my designated start time, so I'll try to eat something thick and hearty in order to prepare myself for the upcoming 18 hours of glory. Often, it tends to be oatmeal or triple cheese Easy Mac(namebrand for this baller) but sometimes it a rice or vegetable dish left over from the night before. Pizza makes many appearances as well.
Between the hours of 5 and 8 AM, my Coworkers and I are responsible for loading and releasing seven 737 aircraft, which is impressive, but even more so when I explain that those seven planes are only able to be loaded/boarded at three gates. It's like a plane ballet. It's rough and fast-paced, but if you plan ahead, you're almost always gonna make it out the other side retaining your sanity and without taking delays.
From 8 AM to 3 PM we average about a plane an hour. Depending on your assignment for the day, you may only work planes for about ten minutes. Even if you're a "lead" or "buff" you're usually only working steadily for about a half an hour.
(Southwest planes are in the air an average of twelve hours a day. We don't like to see them sitting for longer than 25 minutes, as a plane that isn't carrying passengers isn't making you(or the stockholders) any money.)
For my second shift, which starts at 130 PM, I'm often found downstairs in the bag room, removing bags from the belt and placing them in carts separated by destination. It's steady work, but it's cake. Out of the elements and pretty much free to do whatever your heart desires as long as the belt stays clear.
Over the course of an "average" day I'm often:
-Eating. I eat a lot of food at work. At least 1500 calories during a double shift. Each bag ways roughly thirty pounds, and each plane has roughly 75 bags, multiplied by about 14 planes a day. I need to eat often and well in order to do my job.
-Writing jokes and/or screenplay/scene ideas. Most will never get farther than the pages of my notebooks, and for good reason.
-Watching our satellite television. Collectively, we don't seem to ever mind the Discovery Channel, no matter the content. Personally, I'm a fan of MTV Cribs, Fuse, Fuel, CNN/KDKA in the early morning, AMC in the afternoons, Comedy Central at nights and especially weekend nights, and USA when LaO: SVU is on.
-Lifting weights. Occasionally. Well, "rarely" really.
-Reading. This ranges from the daily newspapers(papers from different regions removed from airplane garbage bins are a favorite!), tabloid mags, music, fashion, mountainbiking, and men's interest-related magazines, to popular fiction and reference. I just began Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian. Novels take me as little as a day or two or as long as a month to read, depending on if I take them home at night.
-Computing, We have internet. I check the social networking sites, the comedy sites, the bmx/mountainbiking sites, IMDB and often just get on Wikipedia and see were I eventually end up at. I usually write a rough draft of this here blog at work and polish it up at home later. I'm about a day ahead of the current date regarding blog writing.
----
In other news which is nonetheless work-related, my foot is killing me. Something on the outside of my right foot/ankle is out of wack big time! It sends a sharp, stabbing pain up my leg when I walk on it. It even does it while I'm driving. I'm going to the clinic on Monday morning. I'm hurtin' real bad right now, but have been on a strict regimen of rest, whiskey, and Tylenol. It is helping somewhat. Even a placebo effect is welcome at this stage.
Hobbled out to Belvedere's last night to watch a friend wrestle in pudding. I mostly did it to show her support, but I ended up having a really great time. It was well run and the drinks ran cheap. No complaints here.
All the way over in Millvale.-BK
I currently only work three days a week. Two consecutive double shifts and a single.
3:35 AM My cell phone's alarm(currently Mudvayne's "Happy Now") goes off. I immediately hit snooze. Sometimes I milk that extra five glorious minutes of sleep, but mostly I just lay in the dark for five minutes, put on my glasses, and think about the day ahead while becoming cogniscant and waiting for the second alarm to go off.
I'm up. If it's below freezing and/or raining/snowing, I go straight outside to my car, often in my underwear, and start it up. Gotta get those windows defrosted! I return to the house, take my morning pee, brush the teeth, apply deoderant, and dress myself.
I start with socks, usually thicker and above the ankle in height, then I pull on my long john bottoms OVER the sock. No skin is exposed at the ankle. I put on the long john top. They usually aren't from the same set. For example, yesterday I wore a light blue cotton thermal top and dark blue wool/synthetic bottom. I wear long underwear pretty much every working day of the week between late November and early March. I throw on whatever pair of work pants is clean, folded, and closest to my position. Same with a t-shirt. I'll usually don a work hoodie too. If it's going to be colder, I'll put on more shit at work. I throw on my boots and grab my pre-made and bagged supply of food for the day.
4:00 AM I leave Millvale. I try to have my musical accompaniment selected the night before. Yesterday it was Ozzy Osbourne's Ozzmosis album. I usually listen to something fast and thumping on the way in, as dawn is still a few hours a way and five hours' sleep is considered a good night for me. I may or may not kill a water bottle(filled from the tap, what am I, rich?!) on the drive. I'm a stickler for proper hydration while at work.
I take my time driving the Parkway. Often, it's so early that plows have not really been out, so things get treacherous. When the road is clear, I usually don't push it much past 60 speedwise, as I know of about 5 places cops like to sit and "protect and serve" until an above average Joe like me on his way to work speeds by at 75.
4:25-4:30 AM I'm in the parking lot at work. I park The Warrior, grab my lunch, put it into my messenger bag, throw my work badge on, check to make sure all my windows are up, hop out, shut the door, click the locks, and head in. If it's going to snow, I pull up my windshield wipers.
My walk/other drive in takes about 12 minutes. I walk through the huge PIT Airport parking lot, into the terminal, and go to the bag room. I grab a bag tug and drive about a mile to our gates. I swipe in.
I'm usually at work about ten minutes before my designated start time, so I'll try to eat something thick and hearty in order to prepare myself for the upcoming 18 hours of glory. Often, it tends to be oatmeal or triple cheese Easy Mac(namebrand for this baller) but sometimes it a rice or vegetable dish left over from the night before. Pizza makes many appearances as well.
Between the hours of 5 and 8 AM, my Coworkers and I are responsible for loading and releasing seven 737 aircraft, which is impressive, but even more so when I explain that those seven planes are only able to be loaded/boarded at three gates. It's like a plane ballet. It's rough and fast-paced, but if you plan ahead, you're almost always gonna make it out the other side retaining your sanity and without taking delays.
From 8 AM to 3 PM we average about a plane an hour. Depending on your assignment for the day, you may only work planes for about ten minutes. Even if you're a "lead" or "buff" you're usually only working steadily for about a half an hour.
(Southwest planes are in the air an average of twelve hours a day. We don't like to see them sitting for longer than 25 minutes, as a plane that isn't carrying passengers isn't making you(or the stockholders) any money.)
For my second shift, which starts at 130 PM, I'm often found downstairs in the bag room, removing bags from the belt and placing them in carts separated by destination. It's steady work, but it's cake. Out of the elements and pretty much free to do whatever your heart desires as long as the belt stays clear.
Over the course of an "average" day I'm often:
-Eating. I eat a lot of food at work. At least 1500 calories during a double shift. Each bag ways roughly thirty pounds, and each plane has roughly 75 bags, multiplied by about 14 planes a day. I need to eat often and well in order to do my job.
-Writing jokes and/or screenplay/scene ideas. Most will never get farther than the pages of my notebooks, and for good reason.
-Watching our satellite television. Collectively, we don't seem to ever mind the Discovery Channel, no matter the content. Personally, I'm a fan of MTV Cribs, Fuse, Fuel, CNN/KDKA in the early morning, AMC in the afternoons, Comedy Central at nights and especially weekend nights, and USA when LaO: SVU is on.
-Lifting weights. Occasionally. Well, "rarely" really.
-Reading. This ranges from the daily newspapers(papers from different regions removed from airplane garbage bins are a favorite!), tabloid mags, music, fashion, mountainbiking, and men's interest-related magazines, to popular fiction and reference. I just began Cormac McCarthy's Blood Meridian. Novels take me as little as a day or two or as long as a month to read, depending on if I take them home at night.
-Computing, We have internet. I check the social networking sites, the comedy sites, the bmx/mountainbiking sites, IMDB and often just get on Wikipedia and see were I eventually end up at. I usually write a rough draft of this here blog at work and polish it up at home later. I'm about a day ahead of the current date regarding blog writing.
----
In other news which is nonetheless work-related, my foot is killing me. Something on the outside of my right foot/ankle is out of wack big time! It sends a sharp, stabbing pain up my leg when I walk on it. It even does it while I'm driving. I'm going to the clinic on Monday morning. I'm hurtin' real bad right now, but have been on a strict regimen of rest, whiskey, and Tylenol. It is helping somewhat. Even a placebo effect is welcome at this stage.
Hobbled out to Belvedere's last night to watch a friend wrestle in pudding. I mostly did it to show her support, but I ended up having a really great time. It was well run and the drinks ran cheap. No complaints here.
All the way over in Millvale.-BK
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Recliner.
Double shift into a single shift. Very little sleep, but I get to nap when I get home later. I can do it. No real time to write anything for today, but I did start on a "what do I do all day?" blog that's super-fantastic. It will be up tomorrow or Monday. As Samuel L. Jackson uttered, cigarette dangling from his lips in Jurassic Park: "Hold on to your butts."
Ms. Sorsha. Damn. Mmmm.
"Peck" is kind of an awesome slur. Maybe the best slur of all time. Still a slur though. Bummer.
I was looking for a good T-Rex clip, because T-Rexes are fucking awesome, but this came up, and it's too fantastic for you not to click on! How did Weird Al ever get claymation money?
It lacks the pep it had before it went to the shop. WTF with both a question mark and exclamation point.-BK
Ms. Sorsha. Damn. Mmmm.
"Peck" is kind of an awesome slur. Maybe the best slur of all time. Still a slur though. Bummer.
I was looking for a good T-Rex clip, because T-Rexes are fucking awesome, but this came up, and it's too fantastic for you not to click on! How did Weird Al ever get claymation money?
It lacks the pep it had before it went to the shop. WTF with both a question mark and exclamation point.-BK
Friday, February 13, 2009
Not without my daughter.
I was very tired yesterday. Got out of my second shift in order to accomplish some house buying-related business, and almost fell asleep at the wheel at least three separate times on my way home. It probably wasn't advisable to be listening to Mogwai when in such a state. Mogwai does rule like an audio Alexander though.
I've said it before, I'm sure I'll say it again, and I'll say it right now. Thanks for reading. My magical counter keeps on climbing as the weeks go by. If you're new, welcome. If you're old, thanks. If you're neither, what are you, and why are you doing this to me!?
The UK does it better.
Surprisingly different weather yesterday. Sunny and fair. But breezy. Really breezy. Which sucks, as the sandy grittiness on the ground at PIT decided to let itself blow around and abrade my face. There was a miniature sandstorm on the ramp yesterday. Bad times, but the "summer day in fourth grade" blue skies and puffy clouds sort of made up for it.
My sister used the word "pumped" in a Facebook status update yesterday. That is the penultimate "jock" term. I don't believe I've ever written the word in reference to being excited. I know goddamn good and well I've never used it aloud in that context. Jocks and their weird language. I would explore it more deeply, but the primitive moans and surly grunts emanating from the nearest Hooters location always wards me off. Perhaps I should attempt to make contact with their culture via an offering of mass quantities of beer with the world "Lite" on the label?
I've decided to start an evangelical Christian Eighties cover band. We're calling ourselves "Jeers for Queers." Har har har. God I suck.
Jeremy Lusk died from injuries he suffered in this crash. He died doing what he loved to do, what made him happiest in the world. We should all be so lucky. Whether it's flipping a motorcycle, teaching a class, or water skiing, we should all be so lucky. He was 24 years old. Think of him and the risks he knew he took the next time pushing yourself seems a little scary. He risked his life to live his life. We should all be so lucky.
That's that.
And this is this.-BK
I've said it before, I'm sure I'll say it again, and I'll say it right now. Thanks for reading. My magical counter keeps on climbing as the weeks go by. If you're new, welcome. If you're old, thanks. If you're neither, what are you, and why are you doing this to me!?
The UK does it better.
Surprisingly different weather yesterday. Sunny and fair. But breezy. Really breezy. Which sucks, as the sandy grittiness on the ground at PIT decided to let itself blow around and abrade my face. There was a miniature sandstorm on the ramp yesterday. Bad times, but the "summer day in fourth grade" blue skies and puffy clouds sort of made up for it.
My sister used the word "pumped" in a Facebook status update yesterday. That is the penultimate "jock" term. I don't believe I've ever written the word in reference to being excited. I know goddamn good and well I've never used it aloud in that context. Jocks and their weird language. I would explore it more deeply, but the primitive moans and surly grunts emanating from the nearest Hooters location always wards me off. Perhaps I should attempt to make contact with their culture via an offering of mass quantities of beer with the world "Lite" on the label?
I've decided to start an evangelical Christian Eighties cover band. We're calling ourselves "Jeers for Queers." Har har har. God I suck.
Jeremy Lusk died from injuries he suffered in this crash. He died doing what he loved to do, what made him happiest in the world. We should all be so lucky. Whether it's flipping a motorcycle, teaching a class, or water skiing, we should all be so lucky. He was 24 years old. Think of him and the risks he knew he took the next time pushing yourself seems a little scary. He risked his life to live his life. We should all be so lucky.
That's that.
And this is this.-BK
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Tossed apart.
QT is at it again! YESSSS!!! I grew up on The Dirty Dozen, Kelly's Heroes, and Where Eagles Dare, and this is in their grand tradition. Midnight showing for me!
It looks like it's going to continue to be an awesome decade for nerds. Unfortunately, in addition to being a nerd, I'm also a film buff, which leaves me concerned about the quality of adaptations I'm nonetheless totally excited about seeing...
Lee and Josh burst into the place we were eating post-hilarity Tuesday night and sang me happy birthday while Lee played his banjo. It was awesome. I'm not sure if Lee really understands how devastatingly funny and good his music is. Josh is no comedic slouch either.
SHRIMP from krullbeast on Vimeo.
I've watched that video at least twenty times. It just kills me.
Look for me and other hilarious PGH comics on February 21st at Gorman's Pub. It's going to be a great time! Come out, laugh, and blow off some of that stress. What else are you gonna do, kill your family out of shame? It'll feel good to come out and laugh, like a weight's been removed from your shoulders. How good? Remember that time in high school when your girlfriend went to the doctor and found out her period was late because of her poor diet and drug use and not because of that other reason? That good. Come out!
The mother of those octuplets is disgusting, and a red hot metal implement of some sort should be inserted into her vagina until resistance is encountered, and then inserted a little farther. Her children are doomed to lead cursed lives because of her many, many mental disorders and delusions. Fuck that bitch, fuck the sperm donor, fuck her stupid parents, and most importantly FUCK ANY DOCTOR WHO HELPED HER CONCEIVE!
Have a shot!-BK
It looks like it's going to continue to be an awesome decade for nerds. Unfortunately, in addition to being a nerd, I'm also a film buff, which leaves me concerned about the quality of adaptations I'm nonetheless totally excited about seeing...
Lee and Josh burst into the place we were eating post-hilarity Tuesday night and sang me happy birthday while Lee played his banjo. It was awesome. I'm not sure if Lee really understands how devastatingly funny and good his music is. Josh is no comedic slouch either.
SHRIMP from krullbeast on Vimeo.
I've watched that video at least twenty times. It just kills me.
Look for me and other hilarious PGH comics on February 21st at Gorman's Pub. It's going to be a great time! Come out, laugh, and blow off some of that stress. What else are you gonna do, kill your family out of shame? It'll feel good to come out and laugh, like a weight's been removed from your shoulders. How good? Remember that time in high school when your girlfriend went to the doctor and found out her period was late because of her poor diet and drug use and not because of that other reason? That good. Come out!
The mother of those octuplets is disgusting, and a red hot metal implement of some sort should be inserted into her vagina until resistance is encountered, and then inserted a little farther. Her children are doomed to lead cursed lives because of her many, many mental disorders and delusions. Fuck that bitch, fuck the sperm donor, fuck her stupid parents, and most importantly FUCK ANY DOCTOR WHO HELPED HER CONCEIVE!
Have a shot!-BK
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Check it yourself.
I see a lot of fucked up movies. By choice. I seek them out. Imprint takes the cake. That's all I can really divulge about it. It takes the cake. It's cake you don't even want to eat, but can't stop eating. A really interesting test of one's "taste." It is good to be challenged by film. After all, it's fiction, mostly, so how offensive can it really be?
Everyone who gets down, has gotten down, or plans to get down should own Lady Gaga's The Fame. The only way it'd be better is if Akon didn't make guest appearances, but it's still really fucking good. "Bluffin' with my muffin." Fantastic.
Comedy was fun last night. Comedy is not always fun if you're a comedian, but it was fun last night. Chill crowd, but fuck it, you just gotta move forward and bring "it." Which I did. Because I am just that good.
I kind of hate how politics has gotten back to normal. America needs the stimulus package to pass. Although I support a "let them all fail" philosophy, if they all failed at once, it would end the comfortable existence we all seem to be enjoying, so we need to bail out the oppressive corporate bastards, even if we hate their guts.
Just because Demitri Martin is essentially the anti-Dane Cook doesn't mean he's funny. That's all. Thanks.
In this economy, it's a bad idea to invest so heavily in private jets.-BK
Everyone who gets down, has gotten down, or plans to get down should own Lady Gaga's The Fame. The only way it'd be better is if Akon didn't make guest appearances, but it's still really fucking good. "Bluffin' with my muffin." Fantastic.
Comedy was fun last night. Comedy is not always fun if you're a comedian, but it was fun last night. Chill crowd, but fuck it, you just gotta move forward and bring "it." Which I did. Because I am just that good.
I kind of hate how politics has gotten back to normal. America needs the stimulus package to pass. Although I support a "let them all fail" philosophy, if they all failed at once, it would end the comfortable existence we all seem to be enjoying, so we need to bail out the oppressive corporate bastards, even if we hate their guts.
Just because Demitri Martin is essentially the anti-Dane Cook doesn't mean he's funny. That's all. Thanks.
In this economy, it's a bad idea to invest so heavily in private jets.-BK
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
The alarm.
Think it's expensive where you live? Well, chances are you're not wearing long underwear, snowmobiling out of necessity, and paying these kinds of prices, so shut yo' traps!
Sometimes, the whole "turn my back on God" thing doesn't work out too well, even though I get laid fairly regularly and always score good parking. On the way to get a new tire yesterday, another tire, a perfectly fine tire, on my car managed to pick up a piece of steel in the tread which almost instantly flatted me while traveling at about warp speed. I hadn't gone to plaid quite yet, but it was close. Also, it was a sum of money I did not want to spend as I'm...
...hopefully getting a house in a month!!
By "getting" I mean buying. By "buying" I mean I will be legally responsible for the repayment of a substantial amount of money for the next thirty years of so. I have now planted a foot firmer into adulthood.
It's really an elaborate means to a very simple end, folks. I found myself lamenting my lack of a dog about a month ago. Voice in my head, which is usually pretty quiet save for urging me to eat the rest of pizzas I've ordered, said, "If you had a house, you could get a dog." I laughed heartily at our foolish idea, but it festered like one of my many sores until it popped into the forefront of my mind. Long story short, I made contact with a few lenders, told them what I wanted to spend, and instead of laughing me out of their offices, they said, "you seem down, let's roll." Which was really weird, as they were all fifty year old white men. So then I started looking around the greater(lesser) Pittsburgh area. I'll tell you fuckers something, the real estate available for what I make in two years in this town is incredible!
As a first time homebuyer, you can get a FHA loan with a low down payment and receive HUGE tax deductions/loans. If you want to own a home for less than you pay in rent, I would recommend looking into it. My credit history/score is fairly shitty, and they still made it happen for me without a problem. Stop throwing money away on rent. Rent is like the strip club, but without the restroom coke runs and titties. You can only have so much fun at a cokeless, titless strip club. Believe me, I've tried.
Oh yeah, said house is actually an over/under duplex, which means I'll be offering an apartment for rent around April 1st or so, so if you're down for a clean, huge, chill ass apartment with entirely new appliances in a quiet neighborhood for under market rent, holla at me! If you have friends looking for a place, holla at them, and then have them holla at me. If neither, tip a 40oz. in moment of fond remembrance of my youth, and holla at whomever, or bark at the moon a la Ozzy in '86.
What's funnier, fat people, or retards? I say fat people, because fat is a lifestyle choice, a physical manifestation of weakness, where as retard is the result of Nature spazzing out on the job.
This is what I miss the most about living in CO/the West. Absolutely unbelievably fun stuff to ride, or attempt to ride. The bike he's on is worth about 6k. Worth every penny if you live out there. Overkill for PA though.
Scott on SoMo from lacemine29 on Vimeo.
You should get on that right away!-BK
Sometimes, the whole "turn my back on God" thing doesn't work out too well, even though I get laid fairly regularly and always score good parking. On the way to get a new tire yesterday, another tire, a perfectly fine tire, on my car managed to pick up a piece of steel in the tread which almost instantly flatted me while traveling at about warp speed. I hadn't gone to plaid quite yet, but it was close. Also, it was a sum of money I did not want to spend as I'm...
...hopefully getting a house in a month!!
By "getting" I mean buying. By "buying" I mean I will be legally responsible for the repayment of a substantial amount of money for the next thirty years of so. I have now planted a foot firmer into adulthood.
It's really an elaborate means to a very simple end, folks. I found myself lamenting my lack of a dog about a month ago. Voice in my head, which is usually pretty quiet save for urging me to eat the rest of pizzas I've ordered, said, "If you had a house, you could get a dog." I laughed heartily at our foolish idea, but it festered like one of my many sores until it popped into the forefront of my mind. Long story short, I made contact with a few lenders, told them what I wanted to spend, and instead of laughing me out of their offices, they said, "you seem down, let's roll." Which was really weird, as they were all fifty year old white men. So then I started looking around the greater(lesser) Pittsburgh area. I'll tell you fuckers something, the real estate available for what I make in two years in this town is incredible!
As a first time homebuyer, you can get a FHA loan with a low down payment and receive HUGE tax deductions/loans. If you want to own a home for less than you pay in rent, I would recommend looking into it. My credit history/score is fairly shitty, and they still made it happen for me without a problem. Stop throwing money away on rent. Rent is like the strip club, but without the restroom coke runs and titties. You can only have so much fun at a cokeless, titless strip club. Believe me, I've tried.
Oh yeah, said house is actually an over/under duplex, which means I'll be offering an apartment for rent around April 1st or so, so if you're down for a clean, huge, chill ass apartment with entirely new appliances in a quiet neighborhood for under market rent, holla at me! If you have friends looking for a place, holla at them, and then have them holla at me. If neither, tip a 40oz. in moment of fond remembrance of my youth, and holla at whomever, or bark at the moon a la Ozzy in '86.
What's funnier, fat people, or retards? I say fat people, because fat is a lifestyle choice, a physical manifestation of weakness, where as retard is the result of Nature spazzing out on the job.
This is what I miss the most about living in CO/the West. Absolutely unbelievably fun stuff to ride, or attempt to ride. The bike he's on is worth about 6k. Worth every penny if you live out there. Overkill for PA though.
Scott on SoMo from lacemine29 on Vimeo.
You should get on that right away!-BK
Monday, February 9, 2009
Flame off!
The first order of business today is a HUGE congrats going out to my friend and fellow comedian, the one, the only... Mr. Terry Jones on his big win at the Pittsburgh Hip-Hop Awards! He truly is one of the funniest, most relevant comics, Hip-Hop or otherwise, in Pittsburgh today, and his victory is proof that hard work and sacrifice yields results. No one, and I seriously mean, NO ONE, in Pittsburgh works as hard as Terry works, and he deserves what he has, and what is one day going to come to him! Super-excited for him! Stoked on the amount of people who LOVE him and support what he does and continues to do! YEAH TERRY!
I'll tell you about today tomorrow.
In the meantime:
Make it a double.-BK
I'll tell you about today tomorrow.
In the meantime:
Make it a double.-BK
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Stay home and watch TV.
Big day yesterday. Bigger day Monday, with an exciting week to follow. Stay tuned, and cross your fingers for me.
I'm thinking of opening a Twitter account, even though I believe quite firmly that less is not always more, but I think my genius will transfer with few problems. I can kick more ass with 160 characters than a lot of folks who's "Twitters" have made their way into the Benosphere. That's right cockfaces, the Benosphere. Sit there and take it. I don't even have to tell you to do it, because you will. You're American after all, and that's just what we do. We take copious amounts of other people's banal shit. To a point.
How many of you kids are down with/on/upon Twitter? Good idea or bad? Input! Need input!
Anyways...
Grocery shopping went normal yesterday. Sort of, at least, because my dad happened to be there. I have three to five more times the amount of things than I normally have, but I didn't pay, so I am not about to complain. I can't see the back of my freezer, actually. MorningStar boxes far and wide. He even cleaned my kitchen(the state of which "squalor" was too kind a word to describe) while I slept! I awoke briefly, was pissed, then realized the noise was from someone doing something for my benefit with no payback necessary, and fell back asleep for a bit.
Uh... WOW!
What the hell is wrong with me? I've been reading PerezHilton.com far too much this year. I might as well just subscribe to a supermarket tabloid or watch Fox News with this damned addiction to utterly fluffy news!
I was on the fence about my ritualistic Saturday night social endeavours last night. Decided to stay in and watch some of the ridiculous porn I've pulled out of the claw machine at The Smiling Moose. That's right, my favorite bar on Earth has a claw machine with pretty much nothing but porn, sex toys, and stuffed(no pun intended) animals. They were good for a laugh, but I didn't find myself very eager or willing to "blow off any steam" to them, if you get my drift. If you don't get my drift, I mean I was unable to masturbate to them. However, I will keep them around for two reasons: One is that I am not a quitter. To is that but will keep them in the collection for possible clandestine insertion(pun intended) into DVD players at random house parties. I live for fun, and I live quite well.
That isn't included.-BK
I'm thinking of opening a Twitter account, even though I believe quite firmly that less is not always more, but I think my genius will transfer with few problems. I can kick more ass with 160 characters than a lot of folks who's "Twitters" have made their way into the Benosphere. That's right cockfaces, the Benosphere. Sit there and take it. I don't even have to tell you to do it, because you will. You're American after all, and that's just what we do. We take copious amounts of other people's banal shit. To a point.
How many of you kids are down with/on/upon Twitter? Good idea or bad? Input! Need input!
Anyways...
Grocery shopping went normal yesterday. Sort of, at least, because my dad happened to be there. I have three to five more times the amount of things than I normally have, but I didn't pay, so I am not about to complain. I can't see the back of my freezer, actually. MorningStar boxes far and wide. He even cleaned my kitchen(the state of which "squalor" was too kind a word to describe) while I slept! I awoke briefly, was pissed, then realized the noise was from someone doing something for my benefit with no payback necessary, and fell back asleep for a bit.
Uh... WOW!
What the hell is wrong with me? I've been reading PerezHilton.com far too much this year. I might as well just subscribe to a supermarket tabloid or watch Fox News with this damned addiction to utterly fluffy news!
I was on the fence about my ritualistic Saturday night social endeavours last night. Decided to stay in and watch some of the ridiculous porn I've pulled out of the claw machine at The Smiling Moose. That's right, my favorite bar on Earth has a claw machine with pretty much nothing but porn, sex toys, and stuffed(no pun intended) animals. They were good for a laugh, but I didn't find myself very eager or willing to "blow off any steam" to them, if you get my drift. If you don't get my drift, I mean I was unable to masturbate to them. However, I will keep them around for two reasons: One is that I am not a quitter. To is that but will keep them in the collection for possible clandestine insertion(pun intended) into DVD players at random house parties. I live for fun, and I live quite well.
That isn't included.-BK
Saturday, February 7, 2009
First Chair Monte Cello.
Entertaining my father for a day and a half. He's in town for some final-stage house hunting. The search has narrowed, but continues forward.
The Soup is so delicious!
Thanks for all the birthday well wishes. Especially the well-written ones. Creativity is always appreciated by the Ben Kenny. No blow jobs though this year. Again. Meh.
People are taking the Christian Bale thing too far. The man cares very much about his work. He was involved in a scene, somewhat in character, and probably a little stressed out. After all, he's carrying an entire movie. Audiences aren't going to see Terminator: Salvation because McG is directing it. They're going for Patrick Wayne! People's jobs, hundreds of millions of dollars, the hopes and dreams of nerds everywhere, etc...
Michael Phelps lost his Kellogg's gig. How stupid is Kellogg's? Just have him pitch something sweet and sugary instead of whatever healthy shit he sells now. Stoners love cereal! Or so I've been told.
I love Steve Martin. He is a creative genius, and somewhat of an icon of mine, but seriously! Peter Sellers is rolling over in his grave!
Hail to the King!
I laughed at the sheer insanity of it.
Tomorrow is here already!-BK
The Soup is so delicious!
Thanks for all the birthday well wishes. Especially the well-written ones. Creativity is always appreciated by the Ben Kenny. No blow jobs though this year. Again. Meh.
People are taking the Christian Bale thing too far. The man cares very much about his work. He was involved in a scene, somewhat in character, and probably a little stressed out. After all, he's carrying an entire movie. Audiences aren't going to see Terminator: Salvation because McG is directing it. They're going for Patrick Wayne! People's jobs, hundreds of millions of dollars, the hopes and dreams of nerds everywhere, etc...
Michael Phelps lost his Kellogg's gig. How stupid is Kellogg's? Just have him pitch something sweet and sugary instead of whatever healthy shit he sells now. Stoners love cereal! Or so I've been told.
I love Steve Martin. He is a creative genius, and somewhat of an icon of mine, but seriously! Peter Sellers is rolling over in his grave!
Hail to the King!
I laughed at the sheer insanity of it.
Tomorrow is here already!-BK
Friday, February 6, 2009
Terrell Suggs.
I turn twenty-five years old today. A quarter of century, and very likely, more than a quarter of my life has passed.
Birthdays don't normally invoke a lot of deep thought from me, as I'm not big on commemorating days on calendars every year, but this one snuck up on me and punched me in the stomach of my brain.
A journey back, an examination of the present, and a vision of a future have been running though my head in the last day or two.
Ten years ago, I was a freshmen in high school. I was on the forensics(debate) team that year, but chose not to continue with it in order to focus on smoking more weed and sleeping in on the weekends. I had just quit Scouting abruptly, and had a dreadfully mundane social life. Things were about as bad as they'd ever been. I do credit my involvement with forensics with starting my interest in comedy. Original Comedy was not my event, but I'd watch it, and know that I was funnier than anyone else in the room, for sure and for certain. At that point, I'd started to sneak into the city and talk my way onto a bar show every few months. I told no one, as comedy was(still is) something I do for me, and me alone.
Today, at twenty-five, I can very honestly say that I did not expect to be where I am in my life. I can say that I'm very happy I'm here though. I've lived in different parts of the U.S., met, and continue to meet people from all walks of life and ethnicities, and realize only now how special and, dare I say it, "blessed" my life has been to this point. I have never had a serious medical condition, chemical addiction I couldn't kick fairly easily, or problem I didn't have resources to solve.
Ten years down the line, I'll be thirty-five. Will I be married? Children? Divorced? I don't know. I honestly don't care, or care to think much about it. I don't have a life plan. I can only hope to still be doing comedy and have some retention of my youth and spirit.
------
These made me laugh so hard. So hard. Not cruelly either. More like "Pugs are the Danny Devito in Twins of dogs." The only dog shorter than knee height I'd consider actually owning.
I ate a whole pizza. It was my birthday gift to myself. It was good. For Pennsylvania pizza.
This helps me out in a big way. Owe you two.-BK
Birthdays don't normally invoke a lot of deep thought from me, as I'm not big on commemorating days on calendars every year, but this one snuck up on me and punched me in the stomach of my brain.
A journey back, an examination of the present, and a vision of a future have been running though my head in the last day or two.
Ten years ago, I was a freshmen in high school. I was on the forensics(debate) team that year, but chose not to continue with it in order to focus on smoking more weed and sleeping in on the weekends. I had just quit Scouting abruptly, and had a dreadfully mundane social life. Things were about as bad as they'd ever been. I do credit my involvement with forensics with starting my interest in comedy. Original Comedy was not my event, but I'd watch it, and know that I was funnier than anyone else in the room, for sure and for certain. At that point, I'd started to sneak into the city and talk my way onto a bar show every few months. I told no one, as comedy was(still is) something I do for me, and me alone.
Today, at twenty-five, I can very honestly say that I did not expect to be where I am in my life. I can say that I'm very happy I'm here though. I've lived in different parts of the U.S., met, and continue to meet people from all walks of life and ethnicities, and realize only now how special and, dare I say it, "blessed" my life has been to this point. I have never had a serious medical condition, chemical addiction I couldn't kick fairly easily, or problem I didn't have resources to solve.
Ten years down the line, I'll be thirty-five. Will I be married? Children? Divorced? I don't know. I honestly don't care, or care to think much about it. I don't have a life plan. I can only hope to still be doing comedy and have some retention of my youth and spirit.
------
These made me laugh so hard. So hard. Not cruelly either. More like "Pugs are the Danny Devito in Twins of dogs." The only dog shorter than knee height I'd consider actually owning.
I ate a whole pizza. It was my birthday gift to myself. It was good. For Pennsylvania pizza.
This helps me out in a big way. Owe you two.-BK
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Ruled by secrecy.
That, ladies and gentlemen, is the proper way to get up to some tomfoolery. Totally hilarious.
------
My yearly battle with the Tax Man has once again been fought. As it is every year, for every person making less than 100k or so, I lost. 9.8 percent of my income paid directly to the federal government, in addition to the state and city taxes I pay. Grumble.
This is why I virtually never give the homeless people or religious organizations money. My tax dollars, whether I want them to or not, pay for wars, welfare, and police forces, in addition to PA's marvelous road system.
The one religious organization I never have a qualm about giving money to is The Salvation Army, simply because I've never felt evangelized by them, and because their financial records(allocation of money) are pretty impressive.
I'm listening to Anthrax as write this. Just a reminder to the average reader of my blog: I'm awesome.
All my complaints sink to nothing if that can happen.-BK
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Not even close.
Michael Phelps likes the green. The green has not ever killed anyone, or given them an unfair advantage. Leave the man alone.
One of the best songs from the Godfathers of emo. People who think Pete Wentz writes deep, introspective, lyrics are sheltered morons and/or having a tough junior year of high school. Jimmy Eat World is ten times better than any band that bastardizes the genre and music they helped to create. The best thing to come out of Arizona besides Raising Arizona.
The Moose was super fun last night. Did some very golden oldies from the vault and some new stuff, which needs a little more polishing, but the highlight of the night for me was Chuck. It was Chuck's FIRST TIME EVER last night and you couldn't ask for a better first set. He says he's gonna come back. He should, because if he doesn't he's going to catch holy hell from me, since we work together. I firmly believe standing on a stage to do stand-up for your first time is one of the hardest things one can do in the performing arts. Comedians don't have a backup singer or DJ. They have to carry their entire performance by themselves. Props to Chuck and props to anyone else who's ever gotten on stage not for simple attention, but for the art of the game.
Then, we ate Cambodian food. It was delicious, and the gas I'm expelling this morning is quite pungent and rather tangy. Sweet.
There are logic-defying tricks in here. I especially like how he rides with his bars backwards for a bit. Rad song too.
That about does it for this day. A day among many.
It's not feasible.-BK
One of the best songs from the Godfathers of emo. People who think Pete Wentz writes deep, introspective, lyrics are sheltered morons and/or having a tough junior year of high school. Jimmy Eat World is ten times better than any band that bastardizes the genre and music they helped to create. The best thing to come out of Arizona besides Raising Arizona.
The Moose was super fun last night. Did some very golden oldies from the vault and some new stuff, which needs a little more polishing, but the highlight of the night for me was Chuck. It was Chuck's FIRST TIME EVER last night and you couldn't ask for a better first set. He says he's gonna come back. He should, because if he doesn't he's going to catch holy hell from me, since we work together. I firmly believe standing on a stage to do stand-up for your first time is one of the hardest things one can do in the performing arts. Comedians don't have a backup singer or DJ. They have to carry their entire performance by themselves. Props to Chuck and props to anyone else who's ever gotten on stage not for simple attention, but for the art of the game.
Then, we ate Cambodian food. It was delicious, and the gas I'm expelling this morning is quite pungent and rather tangy. Sweet.
There are logic-defying tricks in here. I especially like how he rides with his bars backwards for a bit. Rad song too.
That about does it for this day. A day among many.
It's not feasible.-BK
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Immaculate perception!
This little tale right here is scary. Really scary. Really, really, really fucking scary. Terrifying, actually.
I don't know if I would've been able to maintain sanity in a situation like that. Good on him for surviving.
There is a strong chance of Ben Kenny in downtown Pittsburgh today. Gotta welcome home the World Champion Pittsburgh Steelers with the rest of the Nation...
There is an even stronger chance of Ben Kenny at The Smiling Moose tonight. Gotta welcome home the one and only Rocco Supreme. Rocco is back from NYC for a visit. Rocco is funny!
Speaking of funny, I got recognized on the street Sunday night by some random girl, who said she'd seen me at my show the night before and that I'd made her laugh really hard. Getting recognized in "civilian life" by random folks has happened to me quite a few times at this point in my "career", but it's still the absolute coolest feeling in the world when someone breaks their stride to stop and tell you how funny you are. It definitely put me even further onto cloud nine that night.
I've been learning about actually claiming deductions and whatnot on my taxes this year. I'm learning that I should've been learning about this kind of stuff a few tax seasons ago instead of being apathetic about it. Union dues, uniforms, and parking are tax deductible. The amount of money I spend on each every year is quite significant. I always thought kids, spouses, and handicaps were the only tax-easing things, but boy oh boy was I ever wrong!
I've been listening solely to Radiohead's Kid A release all week. It's a masterful recording. Jump on it, dive into it, and absorb it to your pulsating rotten core. Far beyond and above pretty much anything in the history of history.
Just fucking totally spectacular.
Gotta call some more mortgage people today. Borrowing substantial amounts of money is quite harrowing, but easy enough if you can remove yourself from the situation, watch it from outside, and jump back in when you have some semblance of understanding about it all. Don't rush to close real estate deals. After all, you not only have to live in the place, you have to pay for it too! Do you know what saving a half percent in interest on, oh, 200k will save you over the life of the mortgage? A lot of money. A ton of money! Enough to see a lot of concerts, do a lot of coke, or to waste on charitable donations not involving strippers, little people, strippers and little people, and/or little people strippers.
Real estate is tangible. It will always, always, always, always, hold some value. The trick is when to buy, and at what price.
You may hit it big on the stock market, but you also run a serious risk of having you investment(your money!) lay stagnant, or worse, totally disappear. Don't put anything in the stock market that you can't risk losing and don't need back within five years. Jim Cramer is popular because Jim Cramer is really fucking smart. I'm a Cramerican, in addition to my membership in the Steeler Nation.
Happy-happy joy-joy!-BK
I don't know if I would've been able to maintain sanity in a situation like that. Good on him for surviving.
There is a strong chance of Ben Kenny in downtown Pittsburgh today. Gotta welcome home the World Champion Pittsburgh Steelers with the rest of the Nation...
There is an even stronger chance of Ben Kenny at The Smiling Moose tonight. Gotta welcome home the one and only Rocco Supreme. Rocco is back from NYC for a visit. Rocco is funny!
Speaking of funny, I got recognized on the street Sunday night by some random girl, who said she'd seen me at my show the night before and that I'd made her laugh really hard. Getting recognized in "civilian life" by random folks has happened to me quite a few times at this point in my "career", but it's still the absolute coolest feeling in the world when someone breaks their stride to stop and tell you how funny you are. It definitely put me even further onto cloud nine that night.
I've been learning about actually claiming deductions and whatnot on my taxes this year. I'm learning that I should've been learning about this kind of stuff a few tax seasons ago instead of being apathetic about it. Union dues, uniforms, and parking are tax deductible. The amount of money I spend on each every year is quite significant. I always thought kids, spouses, and handicaps were the only tax-easing things, but boy oh boy was I ever wrong!
I've been listening solely to Radiohead's Kid A release all week. It's a masterful recording. Jump on it, dive into it, and absorb it to your pulsating rotten core. Far beyond and above pretty much anything in the history of history.
Just fucking totally spectacular.
Gotta call some more mortgage people today. Borrowing substantial amounts of money is quite harrowing, but easy enough if you can remove yourself from the situation, watch it from outside, and jump back in when you have some semblance of understanding about it all. Don't rush to close real estate deals. After all, you not only have to live in the place, you have to pay for it too! Do you know what saving a half percent in interest on, oh, 200k will save you over the life of the mortgage? A lot of money. A ton of money! Enough to see a lot of concerts, do a lot of coke, or to waste on charitable donations not involving strippers, little people, strippers and little people, and/or little people strippers.
Real estate is tangible. It will always, always, always, always, hold some value. The trick is when to buy, and at what price.
You may hit it big on the stock market, but you also run a serious risk of having you investment(your money!) lay stagnant, or worse, totally disappear. Don't put anything in the stock market that you can't risk losing and don't need back within five years. Jim Cramer is popular because Jim Cramer is really fucking smart. I'm a Cramerican, in addition to my membership in the Steeler Nation.
Happy-happy joy-joy!-BK
Monday, February 2, 2009
Limo with a hot tub.
Man what a day yesterday. Went to work, got out early, got to the bar in time to catch the last three quarters of the game. Mega-awesome.
I saw this and almost creamed myself. Luckily, I had prior knowledge of the movie's existence. Still though, it was close.
So excited to see The Baroness, Destro, Snake Eyes, Storm Shadow, Heavy Duty, Scarlett, and motherfuckin' Cobra Commander on the big screen. Even if it sucks, it's going to be awesome!
Now you know too, AND KNOWING IS HALF THE BATTLE!!!!
Statham rules so hard. This commercial makes Audi, one of my favorite car companies in terms of design, even sweeter.
This made me laugh out loud. "Cottage cheese-like mush." Great. Possibly the best ad of the night. I'm very happy that Alec Baldwin never moved to Canada like he said he would.
-----
In non consumption-related news, both of my shows on Saturday night were awesome. Good crowds, a new joke that hit HUGE, and free beer. Things are going great, and they're only getting better.
The house search continues this week.
I ain't got time to recite lines from Predator verbatim.-BK
I saw this and almost creamed myself. Luckily, I had prior knowledge of the movie's existence. Still though, it was close.
So excited to see The Baroness, Destro, Snake Eyes, Storm Shadow, Heavy Duty, Scarlett, and motherfuckin' Cobra Commander on the big screen. Even if it sucks, it's going to be awesome!
Now you know too, AND KNOWING IS HALF THE BATTLE!!!!
Statham rules so hard. This commercial makes Audi, one of my favorite car companies in terms of design, even sweeter.
This made me laugh out loud. "Cottage cheese-like mush." Great. Possibly the best ad of the night. I'm very happy that Alec Baldwin never moved to Canada like he said he would.
-----
In non consumption-related news, both of my shows on Saturday night were awesome. Good crowds, a new joke that hit HUGE, and free beer. Things are going great, and they're only getting better.
The house search continues this week.
I ain't got time to recite lines from Predator verbatim.-BK
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Forever's gonna start tonight.
Took a "movie" shower after work yesterday. You know the kind. Steam everywhere, room somewhat dark, solitary figure in profile hunched under the water, head bowed, eyes closed. Just thirty minutes of relaxation between a bad day at work and a busy, but infinitely fun, evening.
-----
Pittsburgh 11:07 PM, Sunday, February 1st 2009
I'm just back from Belvedere's where I watched one hell of a football game. Pittsburgh won in the last two minutes, which made for a heart-wrenching, soul-crushing, exciting and uplifting kind of game.
Like all good fans, we exited the bar to celebrate, simply CELEBRATE, on the streets for a little while and were met by unnecessarily aggressive Pittsburgh police officers looking for a fight. Riot gear, dogs, paddy wagons, etc... They closed the street to traffic, and then prevented us from celebrating in said street. Kind of weird, but as poet laureate of the streets, Ice Cube, once said, FUCK DA POLICE! We had fun anyways.
Steelers now, and Steelers forever!
He's drunk officer, just relax, we'll keep him on the sidewalk!-BK
-----
Pittsburgh 11:07 PM, Sunday, February 1st 2009
I'm just back from Belvedere's where I watched one hell of a football game. Pittsburgh won in the last two minutes, which made for a heart-wrenching, soul-crushing, exciting and uplifting kind of game.
Like all good fans, we exited the bar to celebrate, simply CELEBRATE, on the streets for a little while and were met by unnecessarily aggressive Pittsburgh police officers looking for a fight. Riot gear, dogs, paddy wagons, etc... They closed the street to traffic, and then prevented us from celebrating in said street. Kind of weird, but as poet laureate of the streets, Ice Cube, once said, FUCK DA POLICE! We had fun anyways.
Steelers now, and Steelers forever!
He's drunk officer, just relax, we'll keep him on the sidewalk!-BK
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)