Feel free to hate me...

...because this is where I'm going to be on April 13th.


Rhett Miller & The Believers
Nicolai Dunger
WEBSTER HALL
doors:
7:00
18+

Because a revolution without dancing is not a revolution worth having.

Okay guys. We need to talk. I'm not telling you how to live your life here because, seriously. It's not like I have my shit together in any way. So let's not take what I'm about to tell you as a demand, but more of a favor to me. Except that you must do it. Immediately. Yesterday, if possible.

And the thing that I am asking you to do? Go see V for Vendetta. Right now. Go ahead, I'll wait.

Unfortunately for us all, my vocabulary isn't nearly big enough to adequately encompass the awesomeness that is this movie. Not since Matrix: Revolutions have I had such a good time in a theater--not that the two even compare. If watching the second Matrix was like getting flowers delivered to your house, watching Vendetta was like getting a delivery of puppies laying on a bed of cotton candy and pooping sunshine.

I don't even want to say too much about what happens in the movie because I don't want to infringe on the unparalled enjoyment that you will experience by going into this with fresh eyes. All I will say is this: For the first 45 minutes or so, Beast, Blaze and I watched the movie and enjoyed it. It was pretty good. Natalie Portman is lovely, shit blew up, everything was pretty cool.

Now, everybody knows that Natalie Portman gets her head shaved in this movie. This is important because this is pretty much the point where the movie goes pear-shaped. Things flat-out just stop making sense. After a few minutes of this I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head and see Beast shaking from laughing so hard and trying to contain it. Suprisingly, up to this point, I had shown remarkable self-control; but seeing her cracking up sent me over the edge, and within minutes, I had tears streaming down my face.

There were many things that struck us as funny--the dialogue and storyline being pretty close to the top. What really killed me though, is that for the last hour of the movie, everytime I saw this guy, all I could think of was this guy. Now that would be a movie worth seeing.

The time on the clock when we realized it's so late...

Just when I was feeling awkward about sharing my secret Dashboard Confessional shame, Susan sends me this. And suddenly, talking about a song doesn't seem nearly as bad because she has the video! And this is why Susan rules.

Lou Bega---Yes, Lou Bega. Or reason #849 why I'm going to die alone.

I have a brand new job that I'm completely digging and a really nice apartment--by New York standards anyway. The trade off though is that I have a retarded commute. I live in the boonies of New York City, otherwise known as the Bronx. My office, on the other hand, is on the very bottom tip of Manhattan. Meaning that I start from halfway up in The Bronx, and travel down through the entire island of Manhattan to get to work. I leave the house around 7:30 and get to my office around 9. What keeps me from killing people is my Ipod. I listen to music from the time I leave my house to the time I arrive in my office. At which point I unplug my headphones and plug my computer speakers in so I can listen the entire time at work. When I leave, I plug the headphones back in and listen until I get home. When I get home, the Ipod stays in my purse, but if I'm on the computer, like I am now, I've got Itunes going. The point is, I've been thinking about music a lot lately.

I had the Ipod on shuffle the other day on the train, and "Hands Down" came on (I know...shut up.) The first thing that came into my mind when this song started playing was sitting in the Herald Square subway station at around 1 in the morning after the Rockafeller tree lighting. The boy I was seeing and I were sitting on the bench. He was getting ready to go down to Brooklyn and I was getting ready to go up to The Bronx. It was that typical stalling because we didn't want to go home yet thing, but we had to work in the morning and blah, blah, blah. He got this really serious look on his face and started to recite the lyrics to this song in this ridiculous faux-heartfelt way and the abject lameness of the song combined with his undeniable dorkiness just cracked me up.

So I'm listening to this song and remembering that night, and I got to thinking about all of the other songs that for one reason or another remind me of boys that I dated. So I made a list. Then I looked at it and came that much closer to really understanding why none of these relationships worked out. Because...Lou Bega. Seriously.

1. Far Behind--Candlebox
2. Smooth--Santana f/Rob Thomas
3.Barracuda--Heart
4. Can't Take My Eyes off of You--Frankie Valli
5. Everything to Me--Liz Phair
6. Come Together--The Beatles
7. La Vida Loca--Ricky Martin
8. Wonderful Place--N.E.R.D
9. Mother Mother--Tracy Bonham
10. Hands Down--Dashboard Confessional
11. Johnny Feelgood--Liz Phair
12. I Got a Girl--Lou Bega
13. Any Fall Out Boy song

I don't know who I'm kidding. I should really just buy like, ten cats right now and call it a day.

"Whether you cheer for Tucker, or you wish he’d get syphillis and die, it doesn’t really matter."

Internet writer Tucker Max is being sued. The case basically has no merits and is the action of a sue-happy blueberry heir who threw a shitty new year's party and got his feelings hurt when people called him out on it. The reason I bring it up is that if this case actually goes to trial, it has implications on internet free speech. Read more about it on his website here.