( 11:30 PM )
The following handwritten letter was recently discovered in the lobby of McKinley Hall:
Dear Lisa,
Season’s greetings from a locked Klotsky’s department store display window! I’m in the first hour of 24 straight hours listening exclusively to “Christmas Cookies” by The Oak Ridge Boys over and over for charity. Honk if you love lending a helping hand to support bra-fitting clinics! Hey my gym’s got a new class called Baseball Victory: The Celebratory Man-Pile Workout--we take field positions, throw one pitch, pretend that we just won, then go crazy throwing our gloves in the air and running around screaming until falling all over each other on the pitcher’s mound. Oh yeah, Dr. Cousteau said feeding is a big problem if I get those breast implants with live goldfish in them, particularly for a sea mammal that occasionally sleeps on a bed of nails.
Sugar, this song is like, already giving me tummy ache..
Kristin
Song of the Day:
“For Whom the Bell Tolls” 40 Rod Lightning
::
10 comments
( 11:50 PM )
The following handwritten letter was recently discovered on the wind blown steps of McKinley Hall:
Dear Lisa,
Sorry about my deadly rat-a-tat Cheetos farts at the Salty Snack Sleepover Symposium Saturday, but I’ve been so excited about my sports euphemism pep club being a home run, I just can’t help tooting for the home team. Our leader Skip “Bud” Shlitzweiser gives us pep talks on what we can do for the team by taking one game at a time, working to get the job done, and finding ways to overcome adversity, so lemme know when your strep butt fungus clears up so we can win one for the gipper.
My homegrown toenails are ingrown for you baby,
Kristin
Song of the Day:
“Clipse of Doom” feat. Trife ~Ghostface Killah 2006
::
6 comments
( 9:45 PM )
The following handwritten letter was recently discovered on the leaf-covered marble steps of McKinley Hall:
Dear Lisa,
Any idea why Mark Foley isn’t returning my inappropriate nude emails? What’s he suddenly gay or something? Hey remember last week when you were cleaning off the gerbil, you said I should get off my keister and do something constructive with my butt? Well, guess what? I’m going to be on Extreme Makeover--Ass-Bleaching Edition! No more dark circles here girl! Got a sweet deal on a cell phone too--only thing is I have to wear a 4 ft. tall mobile cell tower antenna on my head all the time. It’s kind of a headache constantly bumping into low-hanging light fixtures and goring people when I bend over, but I geez, I save like 25% on my out-of-state roaming charges, so that’s cool.
Weird, how come evergreens don’t lose their leaves every year?
Kristin
Song of the Day:
“Humans Are Dead” Flight of the Conchords 200? (it rules, thanks Brian!)
::
0 comments
( 7:04 PM )
The following handwritten letter was recently discovered on the marble steps of McKinley Hall:
Dear Lisa,
Hey I’ve been jumping around with this lacy guy named Jack Benimble—he’s pretty quick and seems to really know his way around candlesticks. Must work at Pottery Barn or something. Say that reminds me, I know you said not to buy mayonnaise out of the trunk of that shady dude that hangs out at Fast Ed’s used car dealership in Arkport every Tuesday afternoon, but when he said he would throw in a used vibrating rubber vagina molded from David Hasselhoff, I just couldn’t say no! Anyway, long story short, don’t eat the mayo (oops, it’s expired), and you should probably overlook the melted life preserver on the sofa.
Err, maybe it was Rosie O’Donnell’s slip and slide. I couldn’t tell.
Kristin
Song of the Day:
"Umbrellas" Peanut Butter Wolf 2005
::
0 comments
( 8:18 PM )
The following handwritten letter was discovered crumpled up on the steps of McKinley Hall:
Dear Lisa,
I just read that Visine now makes eye spermicide, which is good news because the regular stuff burns my corneas something fierce. Now if they would only make an emergency contraceptive mouthwash and lemony-scented bathroom sanitizer I’d be stoked. You know, I’m sure people avoid me by ignoring me and pretending that I don’t exist. From now on I’ll be invisible—that’ll totally get their attention! While Crystal at the Nail Hut gave me a manicure we talked about convection current weightlessness coinciding with inverse gravitational instability on outer cortex regions of deep space worm holes. So I got glitter kitties painted on!
See you tonight when I reveal my mystery veil unveiling,
Kristin
Song of the Day:
“The Last Time” Gnarls Barkley 2006
::
0 comments
( 11:07 PM )
Planet Envy and the Traveling Airplane Blues
So Pluto is no longer a planet, huh? What kind of bullshit call is that? Buncha scientists get together and vote Pluto out of the panet club is like kicking Tattoo off Fantasy Island. We always knew Pluto was small, but what’s next, Cuba’s not a country anymore because it’s not big enough? This also feels eerily akin to discovering years after high school that Christopher Columbus was really kind of a dick responsible for murdering hundreds of Native American Indians.
I don’t know why this upsets me, but I guess I always liked Pluto. It was always the coolest planet (literally) and the farthest away. Why’s that cool? Well again it’s freezing there, it was named after the Roman God Pluto, plus it has the same name as Mickey Mouse’s dog. What other planet can boast a celebrity cartoon dog name? Reminiscing, I guess the solar system was the one thing I still remember learning about in grade school.
There’s several ways to remember the order of the planets. Mine was “Many very early men ate juicy steaks using no plates.” “Ate” stood for Jupiter’s asteroid belt. Useless knowledge? Maybe. But goddamnit if Jay Leno ever stops me on the street, I refuse to make a fool out of myself not knowing Earth’s surrounding planets.
I think someone should go to bat for little ‘ol Pluto. I’m willing to bet that if the same public relations team that represents Paris Hilton took up Pluto’s cause, this ‘dwarf planet’ or as I like to call it the “little people planet,” would be back in business.
The same day Paris released her first album, a new Blender showed up in the mail with shocker—Paris Hilton on the cover. Inside she was tops in some nonsense omni-obligatory Top 100-something list and featured in her own full-page ad for a new dvd (not the porno). The ultimate irony appears a few pages later when her album garners an unceremonious two-star review.
Anyway, thank god Uranus is still a planet—the jokes alone make it an indispensable hunk of rock orbiting in space.
This in no way leads me to this--but I’m pained that liquids are banned on airplanes. What’s next, luggage?
If this ban isn’t lifted, this may virtually eliminate air travel for the one-bag weekender guy or gal. Cripes the cost of replacing special shampoos, skin lotions, hair gels, and astroglide would cost almost as much as the trip itself. When I see the pictures of garbage cans overflowing with cosmetics and toiletries at airport checkpoints, I cry like an ashamed Indian.
Good thing cars, buses, and trucks don’t have the same constant threat of blowing up. Can you imagine getting wanded every time you pulled up to a drive-through window? Or have someone paw through your purse at a parking garage? I’m starting to wonder if terrorists are behind Pluto’s removal from planetary status. Wait, it all makes sense to me now.
Song of the Day:
“In My Time of Dying” Led Zeppelin 1975
::
0 comments
( 12:10 AM )
The following handwritten letter was recently found crumpled on the steps of McKinley Hall:
Dear Lisa,
Well it’s set in stone-- I’m stepping down as foundation leader of the basement club. Got a smile on my face though because I’ve been brushing up on this all dentist Hall & Oates cover band called Halitosis. They were a gas at the Vegas orthodontic convention, numbing me with the toothy “Sara Smile” and drilling out a periodontal version of “Maneater.” Hey is it true that Mel Gibson’s punishment for slurry Jewish cop badgering is to record a Hanukkah album and that arthritic Floyd Landis is opening a dope candy store for diabetic leg-pullers? You know, now when I eat shark sandwiches I roll my eyes back and shake my head back and forth.
Damn, I keep forgetting to ask where have you’ve been hiding the industrial meat thermometer,
Kristin
Song of the Day:
“Method of Modern Love” Halitosis 2006
::
0 comments
( 11:57 PM )
The following handwritten letter was recently found on the steps of McKinley Hall:
Dear Lisa,
Thanks for licking my toes last night and putting up with my balloon farts. Man, what a day I had. First a forklift held me up at the post office and I was almost stabbed at gunpoint. Then it was like East Side Story outside when the rival gangs The Dolphins battled the The Airplanes. Sadly my tooth-mobile made from dental floss was cracked, and my jar of toenail clippings smashed in the street—stupid pigeons ate a lifetime of my precious cuticle babies. I’m so distraught I may hang out with Edward Piddlepenis, Peter Cocknballs, and Dick Shaftmaster to plant those cum trees they’ve been gently coaxing me into. Haven’t heard anything from Larry Gitis or spotted the invisible fat man around lately.
I’ve got us tickets for Piercing Roadshow if you want to tag along,
Kristin
Song Of The Day:
“Rumble” Link Wray 1958
::
0 comments
( 12:02 AM )
Damone
Live @ The Club at Water Street
Rochester, New York
June 16, 2006
photos by Brian Ferrigno
Damone: Coming To Help You With Yer Math Homework
Named in honor of the ticket scalper from Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Damone is a cool little rock band that just might serenade you with Cheap Trick songs to make a sale.
And I’m totally buying.
For three rather tumultuous years, this scampy outfit from Boston has found it’s way through ex-guitarists, legal & label issues, comatose bassists, and dealt with being buried at the bottom of music bills.
But now Damone is getting a chance to headline in support of their new album Out Here All Night---the guiltiest goddamn pop-metal pleasure since rainbow colored spandex killed off the genre two decades ago.
It sort of sounds like Motley Crue without the vehicular manslaughter and kinda like Skid Row without all the hairball aftertaste.
At first glance Damone may seem like kid stuff, but I swear it’s just good solid rock & roll. The instant attraction is frontwoman Noelle LeBlanc, a 20 year-old Joan Jett reincarnate that exudes the same throwback charm of Happy Days’ Leather Tuscadero. Not only is she a competent guitar player, but she also possesses this great silvery rock voice.
A lively and protective cast nicely compliments Noelle-- bombastic drummer Dustin Hengst, lanky brain hemorrhage-surviving bassist Vazquez, and flamboyant guitarist Mike Woods, who proudly showed off a vintage pink guitar after the show (a new purchase from Rochester’s legendary House of Guitars earlier that day).
Oddly enough, Damone should also be commended for helping save rock & roll by recording a public service announcement:
Damone Save The Rock
Yeah, so anyway, the show. Damone opened with the fist-pumping anthem “Now is the Time,” and proceeded to burn through a hot and sweaty hour-long set pretty much without stopping. Sidenote for fans of Veronica Mars: eagle-eared listeners might recall that “Now is the Time” was used to perfection during a pivotal first season episode.
After running through older favorites “At The Mall” and “Frustrated Unnoticed,” Noelle’s black leather jacket must’ve been frying her, so she poured bottled water over her head to cool off. For a moment she had that open-nostril look of someone surprised by a cold garden hose. From then on it was all new songs written by the four of them as a complete band. It was readily apparent they were all excited to show them off.
Highlights include the searing title track “Out Here All Night,” “On Your Speakers,” “You’re the One,” and for an encore, a furiously fun cover of Lita Ford’s “Kiss Me Deadly.”
A true all-ages show, the wandering audience of about fifty was comprised of skate rats, cute lesbian rocker chicks, and a few beer-swilling twenty-something guys that might still drive around looking for suburban keg parties on Saturday nights.
Seeing Damone play live certainly wasn’t anything beyond earth shattering, but it sure as hell was completely satisfying. Now you’ll have to excuse me, I’ve got the hankering to dust off my Priest, Maiden, and Halen records like you wouldn’t believe.
Setlist
1. Now is the Time
2. Get Up And Go
3. At The Mall
4. Frustrated Unnoticed
5. On Your Speakers
6. What We Came Here For
7. Stabbed in the Heart
8. Out Here All Night
9. You’re the One
10. Tonight
11. When You Live
12. Outta My Way
Encore
13. Time and Time Again Noelle solo
14. Kiss Me Deadly (Lita Ford)
::
0 comments
( 11:58 PM )
A heavy metal haiku that’s not really a haiku since it’s not in seventeen syllables, in three lines of five, seven, and five. Still, it rocks so hard.
On a Scorpions Black Sabbath
Billy Squier, Iron Maiden and a Judas Priest
Rush into a Cult bar.
Grim Reaper and Motley Crue KISS, see Cinderella
drinking Ratt Poison and yell Loudness—
“Dokken, it’s a Cheap Trick--that’s Anthrax!”
A Celtic Frost Loverboy Foreigner on Skid Row
Dio is a Quiet Riot Bon Jovi that 24-7 Spyz
Whitesnake’s XYZ down. Metal Church Voivod,
The Red Hot Chili Peppers Clutch to Faith No More
Butthole Surfers with White Stripes Nirvana
Radiohead Fugazi Plasmatics Mastodon.
Song of the Day:
“Metal of the Night” Hanover Fist 1984
::
0 comments
|
