Thursday, April 27, 2006And, as a direct result of how Earth-shatteringly horrid I felt on Tuesday, I've made a very grave decision. I'm hereby going to avoid the booze during the week. (Shut up...it's a grave decision for me.) Now granted, I'll still bounce about and have a drink or two with friends, but getting utterly sauced (say, on a Monday night for example?), is just ridiculous. And due cause to throttle back a bit. The odd bit is, I still feel hungover...even today. Curious. Could be a lack of coffee, which I've not purposely cut out of my weekday diet, but have simply forgotten to pick up each morning this week. Good to know I can omit that particular indulgence from my voluminous list of vices rather easily... So, if I haven't been three sheets to the proverbial wind these past few days, what the hell could I possibly be doing with my life that would be of interest to you, the noble Meaty reader? Yeah, I've no idea. But then again I can't figure out why most of you come here anyway. (Don't get me wrong, I'm very thankful for the time that you devote to me daily...I merely don't understand why you choose to do so.) Let's see, so Tuesday D. and I had dinner and hung out all night for the first time since he'd gotten back from London. Which was quite good. We'd definitely needed to catch up a bit. I'd really missed him. Though when we got back to his place I sat down on the couch and officially ruined the pair of jeans I was wearing. See, the velvet cushions "gripped" the thin Ralph Lauren denim s a bit too strongly and I tore right through the seam near the back pocket. Alas, they weren't really my favorite jeans, so all's well. The denim weave was way too loose, so after wearing them for an hour they'd sag in all the wrong places and look just awful. (read as: they gave me "diaperbutt.") Yesterday after work I caught up with Luis, Jake and Beth, helped Jake do some minor shopping for the rehersal dinner he has to attend this week, and had dinner at The Bombay Brasserie over in Rice Village. Which wasn't bad, although in my not-so-humble estimation it wasn't nearly as good as Khyber. The chicken was slightly overdone and the spiciest addition to their masala had to have been the tomato. The naan and samosas were excellent though. Those I can wholeheartedly recommend. Afterward we hung out at Luis's place for a bit, and I took off at around 11 to lay in bed and read my library book before crashing early. Yet even my attempt at the whole "early-to-rest" thing did nothing for this lethargic hangover-esque syrup that I've been trudging around in. I can only hope that it will eventually subside, and I can go back to being that upbeat and quick-witted malcontent that you all adore to hate. And speaking of upbeat, this venereal disease awareness commercial from the 1960's has caused me to giggle at my desk a few times today.  I'm eventually going to compile all of these online hits ("VD," "Glaucoma," "Leeroy Jenkins," etc.) onto a CD... Wait, did I say CD's? Hey, lookout! Segue! Just in case anyone has missed it so far, I really want to be Canadian. So if any of my Canadian readership knows Amy Millan or Leslie Feist or Neko Case personally...please inform them that I am awaiting their call, and will be off the market as soon as they make the ever-so wise decision to ring me. And finally, today marks the anniversary of the accident at Let's give those clever communists responsible for the world's worst nuclear disaster a hand huh? *smacksmacksmacksmack* j.s. |
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Tuesday, April 25, 2006Oy. I am in seriously rough shape today. The 99 cent margaritas (which were actually 1.59 margaritas), at Los Cucos flowed a bit too easily yesterday evening. Met up with Kelly there, whom I hadn't seen since her last trip to Houston almost a year ago, and we caught up with what's been going on in each other's lives since. At around 9, Kapow! suggested that Kelly and I go with her to The Proletariat to catch the Spank Rock show. Which sounded like an utterly brilliant idea. And it was, however all the Lone Stars we imbibed there weren't such a hot idea, nor was the trip to O.C. afterward for a delicious Bass to cap off the night. The results of this foolishness have culminated in this soggy cerebellum that I'm toting around on my neck today. I seriously have to be writing this by sheer instinct alone, because I'm quite incapable of anything resembling coherent thought right now. So now I'm going to sit here at my desk, listen to The Lucksmiths, and attempt to skip ahead in time to roughly 6pm so I can just go home and repair me. j.s. [[Oh, and here's the Wes Anderson American Express commerical.]] |
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Monday, April 24, 2006"Recaps! Weekend Recaps! Get'cha fresh Recaps heah!" So, when last we left our intrepid, ever-so slightly pickled hero, he was leaving work and catching up with some friends, both new and old, at Chuy's for margaritas. Saw Jake there for the first time since he came back to Houston, which was good. (That beard still looks awesome man...) After a few 'gritas we all take off, and Danny and I head over to Cecil's to grab a beer, with plans to go to Luis's place and play something called Guitar Hero afterward. Alas, since the game was screwed up, we end up sipping a few beers and watching Masters of the Universe instead. I take off at around 2:30 and head home, driving behind someone who was so wasted that they kept bouncing off the median curb the entire way down Montrose. A safe distance was assuredly kept. SaturdayI got up around 11, met Danny at Agora for coffee, then headed down to Galveston for Jay's bachelor party. What we didn't realize, was that this weekend also coincided with the Kappa Beach Party. Although surprisingly, the traffic wasn't rough at all until I got to Broadway in Galveston, which is where things got packed...and bass heavy...and everything seemed to be bouncing on "dubs." (I'm quite aware that I should never attempt ebonics, which is why I put that in quotes.) Anyway, I dodged most of the traffic by driving through The Strand and along the pier where the Ecstasy was docked, which in turn prompted me to call Jenny and rehash our boat trip last summer through one of the lovin' arms of Hurricane Katrina. Ah, memories. So I ride the ferry over to Bolivar, get out to the rental house, and promptly resume the untangling of my kite's strings so I can go fly it on the beach. (That's a sucky picture of it...but it's the best one I could find.) After a while, Luis notices my frustration and offers to help, and it's then that we find out Luis apparently has some kind of knot removal super power, as he merely touched the strings on the kite and they miraculously straightened. An awesome sight to behold, verily. So I take the kite down to the beach, lay everything out and finally get it up into the air after a few launch errors. Luis comes down later and flies it for a bit, then we pack it up and head back inside for brisket and chicken and more beer... And a few more beers... Then a couple more. And suddenly, as if by magic, Sharky's Beach Bar sounds like an absolutely brilliant plan, so Luis and I pack it up and head the mile or so down the road to the ridiculousness of redneck dancin' at the beach. But not before bumping into our the 4 high school girls who were our neighbors for the weekend, and came over looking to trade Bud Light for shots of Skyy. (Don't ask.) Sharky's was every bit as awful (read as: awesome), as we've come to expect it to be. Luis turns out to be an absolute woman-magnet that night, and garners attention for the entire group, and before we know it we've shut the place down, and it's time to head back to the beach house. Now, in case you don't know already, at 2am on the beach, with a serious buzz and a Jeep...there's only one thing left to do. And that's ding-a-ding-dang-my-dang-a-long-ling-long. No, wait. Actually it's to go for a stealth baja mission on the beach. So Luis, Jay and a very cool guy whose name I've since forgotten, hop into the Jeep along with some cushions stolen off the couch, and we follow the neighbor girls (who mysteriously reappeared after we got back from Sharky's) in their Pathfinder onto the beach. We tail them for a while, which soon becomes utterly boring since they're only staying on the packed sand. So I start inching toward the shoreline, yells of caution emanate from the back "seat," so in response I promptly plunge us directly into 2 feet of surf. A wall of water washes over the hood of the Jeep and into the cab, everyone yells, I hang a left, punch the gas, and tear across the beach toward the small sand dunes at the opposite side of the beach from the water. We ride up and along those for a moment, taking out several small bushes in the process, then turn and start making our way toward the water again. Repeat this about 8 or 9 times, and you end up with 4 soaking wet drunk guys, grinning like monkeys and yelling incomprehensibly. The ultra-highlight of this was Luis's decision to get on the hood of the Jeep, and hang on to the windshield as I drove through the water. This actually makes 2 ingenious water-related stunts he's pulled in just one month. (See the April Fool's Party for the other) Fucking brilliant. Anyway, we eventually lose the neighbor girls, stop off at a couple of bonfires to meet and party with random people, then head back to the house and crash. SundayWoke up around noon covered in sand, sore from dancing and kite flying the day before and brutally hungover. We grabbed some lunch at Outrigger's Grill, which is a utterly terrifying place and one which I advise you to patronize only if you're in as dire need of food as we were. Later that afternoon, after the hangover had subsided a little, I flew my kite for an hour or so, we ordered some pizza, and then I decided to take off since D. was returning from London that day and I wanted to catch up with him. Turned out that he was (understandably) exhausted after the flight, so we decide to just catch up today over lunch. Thus, I get home at around 10:30 and walk up to my door...and it briefly registers in my hangover-addled head that something seems wrong about it. I ignore this and push my way inside to find... My landlady has been in my apartment while I was gone. I know this, because she has laid out a rug she bought, put a new table in my "dining" area, cleaned my countertops/stove/fridge, and done all my dishes. And, as I told her today, I keep vacillating between being really thankful that she takes care of me in such a fashion, and really embarrassed that I'd left the place in such a state of disarray for the weekend. See, I hadn't done dishes in quite a while, the stovetop required serious attention, and the only thing in my fridge (aside from fat-free margarine and some ketchup) was a very old head of lettuce. She cleaned it all. Even my front door. And sure, while that might seem a little strange to some of you, I just couldn't care since it felt so awesome to come home to a spotless kitchen. Today was work, and getting briefed from D. about the highlights of his trip. And tonight it appears I'll be catching up with Kelly over some 99 cent margaritas at Los Cucos. And on that note, I'm off. j.s. |
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Friday, April 21, 2006So, on the (slim) chance that you've somehow missed the glory that is R. Kelly's "Trapped in the Closet" Rhythm & Blopra, you absolutely must watch it.  Now these are only the first 5 episodes of the 12-part whole. If you think you can handle it, YouTube has the rest of 'em. (And God help you if you decide to try to watch them all, especially during episode 9's twist ending...) I originally was exposed to this at a friend's birthday party (brilliant gift btw), and it's absolutely mindboggling how awful it is. "I pull out my Beretta!" "Why can't we settle this Christian-liike?" "Man this is gettin' scary...I'mma shoot somebody." "Cool. Climax. Just let go my leg!" The driving scene...(I'm laughing now just thinking about that one.) And R. Kelly trying to look hard, angry and confused all at once, while scratching his head with a pistol, never stops being funny. Or maybe it's just me. Either way, have an awesome weekend. j.s. |
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Thursday, April 20, 2006So I had a little down time at the office this afternoon, so I browsed through the NEWLY JAVASCRIPTED archives here to see where I was on this day for the past 3 years. In 2003 I was smitten by the fact that Erica had just been in town and had called me that day...and was, at that time, blissfully oblivious to the letter that would reach my hands a month later. The one telling me how I'd inadvertently "fixed" her relationship with her boyfriend in New York. And no, I'm still not bitter about that one at all, thank you. April 20, 2004 saw me in the midst of my kiteboarding obsession, tearing into the abysmal pile of suck that was "The Punisher" movie, and protesting vehemently to anyone who would listen about being labelled a "misogynist" by K. =] Today in 2005 I'd been to an Astros game the night before, and was sitting on the patio at Jason's Deli, listening to mp3s and having a grilled chicken panini with a side of strawberries for lunch. (Wasn't much happening that day I guess...although I might revisit that little memory after work. A panini sounds really good right now.) And today-today, I'm seriously beginning to feel the effects of waking up at precisely 4:00am every day, and sleeping in roughly 10 minute increments afterward. I had absolutely no idea why this was happening to me, until I got an email from D. this afternoon telling me about how his trip to London is faring. It seems that he's been getting up daily, at exactly 10am, to catch the train. (In case you don't feel like doing the math, that translates to 4am here.) The Great Insomnia Caper - solved. And no, that isn't a strange phenomenon for us. Happens quite often in fact...among other strange and inexplicable concurrences between us. *shrug* Okay, I'm taking off for the day. Doing some website work from home, and a visit to the O.C. is probably in my future later this evening. See you 'round. j.s. |
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And while we're on the topic of "shows" that are coming up soon... Next Saturday (April 29th) at the Sesquicentennial Park downtown, they're having a live jazz band at around 6:30, and will be screening Casablanca once the sun goes down. Now I actually have a wedding to attend earlier that day, but if anyone is looking for me later that evening you've but to drop by the ever-so-beautiful banks of our Buffalo Bayou, and scan the crowd for the sublimely happy guy, sitting by himself on a patchwork quilt and drinking wine. Oh, and he'll probably have brought along an extra bottle of chardonnay, Camembert, and some grapes in that picnic basket that's next to him, all of which he'd be more than happy to share with you, if you merely say nice things about him. Yes clever dicks, that's my circumlocutious way of saying that you're invited, if such a thing should interest you. And if for some reason it doesn't, well then you absolutely must come. Because you're obviously in dire need of a bit of beauty and romance in your soulless life, and I'm more than happy to be the guy who makes sure Ingrid and Humphrey take care of that for you... j.s. |
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Wednesday, April 19, 2006Upcoming Shows of Particular ImportApril Friday, April 21 - Koufax w/ Cordero @ Walter's on Washington Saturday, April 22 - TV on the Radio w/ Celebration @ Warehouse Live Friday, April 28 - Rainer Maria w/ The Happy Bullets & Buxton @ Walter's on Washington May Friday, May 5 - Ministry/Revolting Cocks & Pitbull Daycare @ Verizon Wireless Theater Thursday, May 11 - I Love You But I've Chosen Darkness w/ Essex Green @ Walter's on Washington Tuesday, May 17 - Built to Spill w/ Helvetia @ Warehouse Live Sunday, May 21 - Pelican w/ Mono @ Walter's on Washington Wednesday, May 24 - Tiesto @ Warehouse Live j.s. |
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Okay, Jack White's new CocaCola ad* has me a little creeped out.  Granted, this isn't quite as surprising as Ratatat doing a Hummer commercial, or Jaguar using Spoon's "I Turn My Camera On" in their latest ad (I must admit, that one's pretty good), but for whatever reason this just unsettles me. Perhaps it's how remarkably Beatles-esque it sounds... j.s. *Via Pitchfork. |
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Tuesday, April 18, 2006So I'm obviously home quite early from the Wine/Jazz thing at Cova. Although since I got there at 6, and promptly started drinking, I suppose "early" is a relative term. My Mom actually came out for a while, as did my editor and her adorable puppy, and I ended up bumping into a a couple people that I knew there as well. So what was originally supposed to be just lil' old me, sipping a glass of wine or two after work and reading, instead turned into a rotating cast of the upwardly-mobile, all trying to yell at one another over the alto sax, xylophone and drum machine that were located roughly 2 feet from our table. I love it when things like that happen. We all left at around 9, and Mom and I had pizza and a beer at Candelari's ("The Sausage King of And now I'm in bed, and planning on being asleep before 1am for the first time in well over a week. We'll see how well that pans out. Before I go however, an interesting thought occurred to me this weekend, so I felt the need to share it with you now. See this construction that's been happening for the past 18 months or so outside my office?  Well, given the nature of freeways, and how long they're supposed to take to be built, I have decided that this cannot possibly be the renovation to Interstate 10 that they've proclaimed it to be. (If all freeways took this long to be built Americans would still be utilizing the Oregon Trail and dying of dysentery.) No, I now see that instead of the the 18-lane Lipitored artery that is supposed to be constructed there, the City of Houston is actually erecting a massive Thunderdome outside my office. And our poor employees will soon be subjected to even more gridlock as throngs of bloodthirsty Houstonians line up for the spear/mace/chainsaw battles that will soon be held just outside of my place of employment. (Rumor has it opening night will feature Paul Wall vs. Bushwick Bill.) I'm in the process of writing the mayor a very stern letter about it this evening. G'night. j.s. |
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Hi there. I really don't think I'm going to make it through this week... Danny, Dixie and I went over to Agora after work yesterday, and an innocent after-work drink turned into 5...followed by dinner and lounging over at Danny's place watching The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra, a film I've pimped several times here before, and I'm quite sure I'll do so again. God. Dammit. I love that movie... Anyway, tonight I have a jazz/wine event at Cova at around 6 that I promised to attend. Tomorrow is a Red Bull/Imperia vodka happy hour at The Alden downtown. Thursday is reserved for my typical O.C.ing. And Friday I head down to the beach for a friend's bachelor party on Bolivar Peninsula. If you haven't heard from me by Tuesday please give the President a sitrep, alert the U.N, and call my mother. Thanks. j.s. |
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Cower before the collective awesomeness of my friends: Rezki  Dixie  Luis  Johnathan  Bryan  Danny  Jake  Jenny  and Dave  I'm a very lucky man. j.s. |
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Monday, April 17, 2006Ahoy! It's Weekend Recap time, ye' scabrous bilge rats. FridayLeft work early, and caught up with Danny and Kapow! at Los Cucos for his b-day, and for the $2 margarita happy hour they have there. During which time, Danny nearly exploded, Kapow! pilfered a turtle, and I...you know, I didn't really do much there but drink and laugh at the both of them. They're two very funny people. But, after a few 'gritas, we all went our separate ways. And my way just happened to take me to the Library in the Heights. Now I've always thought librarians were pretty cool people, with the exception of Katy High School's OCD book nazi whose real name I don't recall. (We just called him "Sweetchuck.") So I figured Heights librarians would obviously elevate that coolness a few settings higher. And I was right. There are some wonderful peeps in there. Anyway, I checked out a Terry Pratchett book, met a particularly cute librarian, and made their security guard (who's a shoo-in to win any Whoopi Goldberg look-a-like contest), shoot gumbo out of her nose when I asked if I was allowed to check out the cookies that sat adjacent to the particularly cute librarian's computer. I'm a very funny man you see. So after La Aventura de la Biblioteca, I went home and sat on my porch for a bit, reading my newly borrowed book and glowing in literary bliss. Dad came by around 6ish to pick me up for the last regular hockey game of the season, which just so happened to be one of the best games I'd seen this year. Went into overtime, and we won in the 7th round of a sudden death shootout. Aweschome stuff. After the game I got dropped off at the aforementioned Issue Release Party at A38, which was...an utter travesty, as many of you can attest to. Apparently our magazine's guest list was only valid from 7-9pm, after which it cost $10 a head to get in. Which didn't really matter anyway since the bouncer wasn't shy about his penchant for allowing only women into the club. In retrospect, I'm amazed that I got in at all since I looked like a guy who'd just left a hockey game. But I did, and I subsequently felt terrible each time someone texted to inform me that they were outside...since there was nothing I could do to remedy that issue. Although you guys really shouldn't feel bad; the Mensa candidate that was denying you entry actually left both of our magazine's managing editors standing outside, along with the local marketing rep for Bud Light. *laughs* Brilliant move mate...you managed to piss off both the press AND Budweiser in one fell swoop. So I stuck around the club for a while. During which I took mild static from a bartender who wanted us to flag down a waitress rather than "bother" him with drink orders from our table in the VIP area. (I didn't see a waitress all night.) The DJ hounded just about anyone who walked by her booth for blow. And the burnt sugar smell of vomited fast food hung heavy in the men's room. Lovely place. So, for the rest of you who didn't make it out on Friday, my ever-so sagacious advice is that you can safely skip Club A38 in the future. It's small, it's crowded, the drinks aren't cheap, and the end product so isn't worth the hassle you'll have to go through at the door. If you're looking to dance, go to Bond, or South Beach, or (maybe) even Uropa. All of which are infintely better than wiling your night away in the parking lot of a strip mall. Oh, and to whoever owns that place? You should know that not having a sign outside only works when you're in a freestanding building, or have some other type of "private" entrance. When you're smack dab in between a tanning salon and cell phone retailer however, such attempts at pretentiousness look more like parsimoniousness. Again, to those of you who were corraled outside by the urban cowboy with the velour rope, I'm really very sorry. We never saw such jackassery coming. Moving on. SaturdayPicked up Danny at around noon, and went over to Fountain View Cafe for brunch with Mom. Always the perfect hangover bacon/egg/coffee/breakfasty stuff. Afterward, Danny and I decide to try and take my kite out for a bit. Apparently the last time I flew it I must've had to leave in quite a hurry, and just stuffed the parts of the kite into the bag. So rather than spending the late afternoon being dragged by a beautiful blue Airush 3 meter across a lush green field, we instead sat in the dirt for 2 hours, trying to untangle fathoms and fathoms of line and getting chewed by fire ants. Very lame. Then at 6 we had to meet Bryan outside the Compaq Center for the Rockets game. Now it's no secret that I could care less about the NBA, but I'm not one to pass up a free ticket to any sporting event, especially one attended by the absurdly funny Bryan and Danny. So we went, became bored by the 2nd period, and amused ourselves by yelling the names of products/corporations at the top of our lungs, in lieu of cheering. "G.E!!" "Halliburton!" "British Knights!" "Pfizer!" "DeLorean!" This...was very funny. After the game we took our leave of Bry and headed back to Danny's place, with a pitstop at Blockbuster to pick up what was, quite possibly, one of the greatest movies of all time... SPYMATE! And rather than telling you about all the awesomeness that's packed into an hour-and-a-half of monkey footage, I'll instead go through a list of things that are encoded into binary data on that little disc... Monkey knife fight? Check. Johnny Cage? Check. Evil scientist? Check. Monkey doing a railslide on a skateboard. Check. Delorean? Check. Ninjas? Check. Boozing monkey? Check. Flying go-kart? Check. Giant drilling machine? Check. Monkey roundhouse kicking Pat Morita through a wall? Check. As you can plainly see, this cinematic tour de force is not to be missed. I advise you all to drink heavily this weekend, and watch the genius of Spymate for yourselves. (Caveat: If you don't care for anything that's on the above list then you've obviously been cursed with no sense of humor at all, and are better off renting "King Kong" or something.) We finished the movie and just crashed out on the beanbag chairs in the living room until K. came home at around 3 and threw blankets on us. Which was awesome, but had the side effect of waking both of us up. So we sat up and talked for a bit, then I drove home at around 4. SundayI awoke at 9:30 with one thought in my mind...a very clear, purposeful and slightly stern voice that said, "Get up boy. You're going to church." And I was held helplessly in its sway. I can only liken it to being called into the principal's office in Jr. High. You're a little nervous, would rather not go, but you sure as hell (ZANG!) aren't going to ignore the request. So I got up and took a shower, thinking there was no way I'd be able to get cleaned up, dressed and to service by 10:30. I took what I thought was my normal showering time, toweled off, shaved, and then glanced at the clock. 9:40. I stared at the clock, very confused. I have never finished my bathroom regimen in such record time before...and I wasn't even trying to be quick about it. Curiouser and curiouser... So I set about getting dressed, black pants become khakis become pinstripes, and finally become some gray slacks and a fitted gunmetal blue sweater. Clock? 10:15. Unreal. So I gather my stuff and and shuffle my heretical ass off to St. Andrews for a dose of spring equinoctial faith. And I'll tell you this, it's strange how all the liturgical prayers and songs come back so quickly after years of being filed away in the cerebral cortex's "Do Not Need" bin. Those mornings in Sunday School leapt to the hippocampic foreground as soon as the congregation's collective droning of "Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name..." and "We believe in one God, the Father, The Almighty, maker of Heaven and Earth..." began. Very strange. Anyway, after the service I did what every good Episcopalian does. I went home and drank profusely. My landlady was having a brunch you see, so I stood around and discussed various topics of import with her friends and had mimosa after mimosa. A few of them had actually read my stuff in the magazine before (and knew that I was her tenant), which made for some very awkward introductions. Although, by comparison, it isn't nearly as bad as when I meet people who only know of me through this site. Because typically I have to spend the first hour or so sheepishly trying to convince them that, "No, I'm not actually the raging bastard that I sound like on there." And afterward it seems like they're watching what it is they're saying and doing, because they're worried about what I might write about them the next day. I suppose it's always odd to meet people who already know of you though... Anyway, after the party I zipped over to Mom's place to catch up with the fam for a while. Had some beer and kebabs, and just relaxed out on the patio. More good times. Unfortunately, I'd had a few too many drinks by 11 to make the drive back to the Heights, so I just crashed out over there. And now I'm at work, wearing the same thing I had on yesterday, and needing desperately to go home. And I believe I'll do that right now. Talk to you later. j.s. |
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Friday, April 14, 2006So, there you have it. The culmination of days of banging my head against my monitor/laptop...er...culminated. It's simpler. There's less in the way of clicky-clicky to find my links. I got rid of those eye/claw things on the left that I liked for about 2 weeks after I put them up, and have hated ever since. And finally, it should load a bit faster than before...as soon as the April Fools Party pics are pushed off the main page that is. I'm sure there's stuff I've forgotten, and I'll get to those in the next couple days. (My email address, podcast link setup, and that suspicious looking blank space on the right side might be used for GoogleAds sometime soon. Don't hate.) And there are things I've left out on purpose, like that damn insta-text message thingy for example...which really wasn't one of my better ideas. There is such a thing as being too accessible. Overall though, there shouldn't be much of a noticable difference in the layout. And the jackass who's writing this tripe is still the same as ever. Speaking of which...let's get to the past few days shall we? Went to O.C. Wednesday night to hang out with Kara, some of her fam, and friends. We sat around and chatted until around midnight or so, then I headed home. Pretty simple evening all things considered. I did, however, have to apologize profusely to one of the bartenders there for missing her b-day at The Dirt last Friday. I'm still glad I didn't go, because moving furniture hungover sounds like an exercise in misery, but I did feet bad for not even showing up to say hi. Last night I caught up with Danny at the O.C. yet again, and we sat out on the patio and watched the Astros game over a couple beers. Very low-key stuff. Home by 11. Tonight I've a hockey game with Dad and Cary, and afterward it's the magazine's Issue Release Party at A38, a new club downtown, so I'll be doing the quick change thing and heading over there around 11ish. Leave a comment if you're interested in going and I'll see what I can do about putting you on the guest list. How sweet am I? j.s. |
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Thursday, April 13, 2006Hi. Sorry I've been so quiet...I've been hard at work trying to modernize the template here a bit. And I don't mind saying that Internet Suck-splorer is really pissing me off. The site looks great in Mozilla browsers, but for some reason IE is trying to scroll my posts horizontally rather than vertically. So, if everyone would just convert over to Firefox I'd really appreciate it. Thanks. j.s. |
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Monday, April 10, 2006Hiya. So, you wanna know what happened this weekend do ya? Okay, after that little post on Saturday morning I went to [TGFTP's] new apartment and helped her move in. 2 trips, 6 hours, and an unexpected encounter with a 9mm Beretta later, and she's moved in. So I head home, take a shower, then catch up with Luis over at Agora...which quickly turns into seeing more friends over at Poison Girl. I take off from there around 10, lured back over to [TGFTP's] place with the promise of both wine and pizza. (Yes, I'm that easy.) So we sat up, playing with her beautiful puppy Emma, and chatting about family, friends, yoga, music, relationships, and just about any other topic that happened to strike us, until around 1 when we both began to run out of gas and I headed to catch up with Luis, Summer, Jav and Ang at Late Night Pie for a matching bookend on the night. I shamelessly attempt to badger them into going to an after-hours with me, no one bites, so I just head home. And Sunday was definitely one of the best afternoons I've spent so far this year. I got up around 10 and invited Dixie out for coffee. (She'd called the night before to invite me to a BBQ, but in my many travels I'd completely forgotten to call her back about it.) So I'm on my way to her place, with the top off the Jeep on a cloudless 70 degree day. I'm listening to Jose Gonzalez's "Heartbeats" as I drive by a group of firefighters who're using the hose on the very top of the fire truck ladder to spray down a field. Bright sunshine angles from behind the arc of water and creates an impossibly vivid rainbow that was so breathtaking I had to stop in the middle of the road just to stare at it. After a while, I feel like I should stop blocking traffic and continue on my way toward Dixie's apt. I arrive, and we start walking toward Agora, while butterflies flit and bob around us nearly the entire way there. (Along with a car of gay men who yell at Dixie to, "hang on to yo' man girl! Hang on to that man!" Oh the irony.) We sit outside on their little patio for an hour or so, talking endlessly about everything and nothing at all, then we decide to drop in on "Domy Books," a new store that sells such awesomeness as original sketches by local artists, books like Make Your Own Damn Art, StrongBad Email DVDs, Shawnimals, and vinyl figures like the Munny that I bought for the Marshall St. household last Xmas. All set to a soundtrack of Massive Attack, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah and Silver Mount Zion. If you live in the Houston area you should definitely check them out. Afterward we walk back to her place, buzzing happily from the caffeine, assure one another that we'll do Sunday coffee again soon, and I head home to write my new magazine articles. Oh, yeah. I've been given another section of the magazine to write, this time involving gadgets and technology. (Somebody is eventually going to see that I'm currently writing both the fashion and the tech articles, and call bullshit on one or the other I think.) Anyway, finished a couple of them before J.T. called and asked me to meet him and Kristin at O.C, for a couple beers on the patio. So, despite something telling me that I really should stay home, I decide to go. And although I had absolutely no reason to be, I was kinda distant and aloof with them all evening. Even downright surly at times. I honestly don't know what was wrong with me. This was made more strange when you consider the awesome morning/afternoon I'd had... *shrug* Anyway, I apologized for being so stoic, and did my best to be congenial and generally good company. Went home at around 9, where I ended the evening by watching SportsCenter for Sox highlights. Our pitching looks every bit as good as advertised if not better, Papi and Loretta's bats are looking good with Manny's just waiting to come around, and my desktop is a blown up picture of the AL East standings after one week. (The Yankee$ are in the cellar, staring up at the ass of Tampa Bay. Of course, I will begrudgingly concede that it's very early in the season...but little things like the Evil Empire's defensive implosion and unearned run tally make me deliriously happy.) And Coco Crisp going on the DL with a broken finger isn't exactly how I'd envisioned his grand entrance into Fenway, c'est la vie. Okay, I could rant about that forever... G'night kids. j.s. |
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Saturday, April 08, 2006Jeremiah posting on a Saturday?? Must've skipped going out last night... Yes you clever dicks it's true, I didn't go out on a Friday night. **collective gasp** I'm getting soft in my old age. Actually that isn't it at all (I don't think), I just had a ton of laundry to finish, an antique Chippendale dresser to put away (thanks be to J.T. and Grandma Jean for that one), and I still haven't read K's copy of "Siddhartha," so I wanted to get cracking on that since I've had it for at least a month now. So, rather than drunken debauchery on the salacious streets of highfalutin Houston, I instead spent a quiet weekend night at home. And it was magnificent. Slept until 10 or so, then got up and walked over to O.C. for coffee. (With a stop at DiCapo's for a croissant along the way.) And I'm actually still here on the patio, basking in the impossible beauty of a sunny, 70 degree, hangover-free Saturday morning. I even picked up some strawberries from the farmers' market they have here every Saturday, immediately rinsed them off in the bathroom sink, and have subsequently eaten the entire box. I probably look like a seedy (zang!), lipstick-wearing, homeless guy, since I'm dressed in full "Moving Day" attire. Oh, right..."Moving Day." I talked to [TGFTP] earlier, and it appears she needs help moving this afternoon, so I'm off to lend a hand in that endeavor in about an hour or so. But for now, I'm relaxing in an agenda-free afternoon Which is about to become a laptop-free afternoon. See ya. j.s. |
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Friday, April 07, 2006Happy Friday! So last night Luis, J.T. and I hung out at my place, with my landlady providing the beer/pizza/barking dogs for us. After a while, we bolted over to the O.C. to catch up with The Dixie and K and have a few Stripes. Good times. Good times which led to a slightly difficult morning, since I had to be up early for a scheduled trip down the Buffalo Bayou for an article I'm doing next month. Apparently what Houston really needs is a landscaped promenade along the downtown bayou, complete with pontoon boat rides, lighting that changes with the phases of the moon, and hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of shrubberies.    Mmm...hmm. Now if they could just do something about the whole "viscous man-eating sludge" look of the water they'd really be on to something. Somehow I don't think the ecological conservationist who was driving the boat appreciated my recommendation of 100 gallons of HTH be dumped into the canal to "freshen things up a bit." *shrug* Okay, I have a ridiculous amount of articles to finish for next month, and a rapidly dwindling amount of time to write them in. I'll try and talk at you this weekend... Take care, j.s. |
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Wednesday, April 05, 2006Bleuxpee! Hello! So I spent most of yesterday working on developing a system for clients to log into our company website (with HIPAA compliance on the brain), and I think I have all of it uploaded to the server and ready to cook. After working that out, I headed over to Agora to catch up with Danny and Luis for a couple hours, have a cup o' joe, and try to collectively piece together the events of Saturday. We couldn't do it. You know, as much as I love recanting the tales of strangeness from days past, it really does seem to get harder with each passing 24 hours. For example, writing that last post seemed like a monumental and exhausting chore, simply because most of it had happened a few days ago. Conversely, when I'm sitting here making these words up on the fly, and whacking them into this happy little box here like I am now, they tend to come easily and with a flow that I can't help but feel is lacking in my "recap" posts... Perhaps it's just sitting on this end of the process. Or perhaps I might just need to go back to the zoo. No really. Does anyone want to go to the zoo with me? Okay, let's see...what's happening... Well the Sox are in full swing again, which makes everything bright and sunny and warm and good for another 7 months. Unfortunately this also means that the Apogee of Evil are pulsing and sleetching their way from ballpark to ballpark around the country as well. Which in turn makes everything dark, bitter and a little frightening. (The Yankees are the Old Peculier Ale of Major League Baseball.) And for those who weren't in the greater Houston metroplex on Monday, and thus didn't hear the echoing shriek of joy that emanated from my apartment, Johnny Damon struck out his first at bat as a Yank. *grin* Also, I'm ridiculously tired of basketball season. It occurs to me that I probably say this every year at about this time...but that truly is the sport that never fucking ends. It actually doesn't bother me much, until baseball season, when I have to sit through ESPN's coverage of the 450 individual playoff games that b-ball apparently requires to determine a national champion. Bah. I really dislike that sport. Anyway, I read an interesting article on the /. feed today that discussed digital inheritance, or passing along webspace/blogs to a son or daughter. Which got me thinking about what my offspring might think of coming here and reading about his father's younger years, and what a complete and utter drunken, blowhard jackass he was. Or perhaps she'd think I was awesome, and that the guy who wrote here couldn't possibly be the magisterial old man who growls from behind the hardbacked edges of political diaries, refuses to listen to her new music, and threatens the vital extremities of her dates with a Cuisinart. Regardless, it was kind of a warm fuzzy to think that my offspring (when and if such a world-altering event were to happen), might take over the helm of writing here. Wow... Or would they actually write with me on here? Hehehe...okay that one made me smile a little. I'm off. See you tomorrow. j.s. |
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Tuesday, April 04, 2006Okay, it's updatin' time. Sherman, set the wayback to last Thursday when I'm about to leave work. ThursdayAs I'm on my way down to the car, I get a phone call from K. who tells me that she's heading downtown to pick up Franz Ferdinand/Death Cab tickets that she'd eBayed, and she happens to have an extra one, and do I want to go? And the answer to that question, is always, "hell yes." While I'm on my way home, I get a ring from Rezki who reminds me that he has my extra ticket to Dinosaur Jr. on Friday (which was a good call, as I'd completely forgotten), and we make plans to meet up at O.C. before the show. So K. and I catch up outside, head in, and the opening band (The Cribs), is already on. Ridicously young British kids in skin-tight jeans, playing par-for-the-course britrock...utterly unremarkable. As it turned out, Death Cab was opening for Franz (despite the reverse assurances of our tickets), so when we heard the first chords of "Marching Bands of Manhattan" it was a rather confusing moment. They were great though, especially during the drum duet between Ben Gibbard and Jason McGerr. Genius. And, since neither K. nor I are huge fans of Franz Ferdinand, we took off after 4 or 5 songs and went to Frank's for some pie and Pironis. After an hour discussing the show, music in general, films and novels, we called it a night and I headed home. FridayWorkworkwork. Then caught up with Danny to grab some mai tai mix for the party on Saturday, after which I headed immediately to the O.C. to meet Rezki and Kara. We kick it around there for an hour or so, just catching up, then jaunt over to Warehouse Live to see Dino Jr. Interesting place that one. It's a brand new venue, so the walls were oddly devoid of marker scrawlings, beer stains and chewed gum. Kinda nice though...in a sterile way. Apparently the acoustics there aren't all that great however. (I didn't notice.) Anyway, the opening band "Dead Meadow," were pretty good from what I heard of them. And Dinosaur Jr. rocked as well, despite playing only things off of their first 3 albums. (Lou Barlow is back, so they're only doing things off albums he was involved with.) After the show we nabbed a late dinner at Mai's, then headed home. SaturdayGot up around 10, had some breakfast with Mom and D, then headed over to Danny's for the April Fools Party. Describing the events that took place there simply wouldn't do it justice...so I'll do the picture thing instead. Things get started with a few airplane rides in the tent.  Then things went horribly awry.  Piggyback rides all around. (That's Bryan and Dixie btw.)  Luis gets warm and fuzzy with Dixie.  I've no idea what the prefacing was for this picture, but I love the way it came out.  Baby pool time!  Danny prepares to expose ninj-ipples.  I love this girl.  Katy fills the supersoaker with rum, and Danny promptly gets hammered.  Judging from the look on my face, I presume I had something to do with this.  This happens to us everytime someone plays Nine Inch Nails, "Closer."  The Cowboys of Chernobyl.  There are, of course, many more pictures...but it'd be best to keep them off the 'net for the time being. SundayI get up and head over to help clean up, and Danny and I decide that our time would be better spent at the Houston Zoo, rather than picking up beercans and oranges off his front yard. So we go, watch the monkeys go insane for an hour or so, laugh at the meerkats, and decide that we would, in fact, be allowed to be put into a zoo for one year as a "Human Exhibit" if we were given the following: 1. Hammock. 2. Laptop w/ internet access. 3. Vespa. 4. Mudpit. 5. Hackey sack. In retrospect, I'm not so sure about the whole thing. Yesterday was spent wrapped up in end-of-monthiness work, as was today. I've just finished however, and will begin on my magazine writing for May as soon as I'm done writing for all of you. Speaking of which, tomorrow I have an appointment to take a boat ride down Buffalo Bayou for an article I'm doing for our June issue about the new Houston promenade. No rest for the wicked. Gotta run. j.s. |
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We're close to updating time...but it's 2am. I'll start it tomorrow, I promise. j.s. |
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Sunday, April 02, 2006It's been a whirlwind few days, and I don't have time to give the stories the attention they deserve right now. But I'll update you all soon. j.s. |
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