Same town

Screeching Weasel comes from the same suburbs as I do. Ben Weasel lives in the same town I do, I'm pretty sure down the block.

This seems to be the most boring Halloween yet. It's raining, I'm too old to trick-or-treat, inappropriate to have or go to a party and the day seems to have a negative feel. What the fuck?

The week in review

The past week has been pretty fun, but not full of work.

We got a new printing quote, much better than the last one. Both issues should be out by the Empty Bottle show.

I’m all over the place on this one. I’ll try to start from last Friday.

Friday night was enjoyable, Kelsey, Merle, John and I had dinner at Lincoln Restaurant at a normal dinner hour. From there we went to the Mutiny to see Twin Wrecks the Memory. The group was great and by the time we left Kelsey and I had finally digested our wonderful meal. After hanging out in the Chicago version of CBGBs, we headed over to Pilsen for some party that Jason was at. The party was actually pretty good. I saw Micah (and his dick for the 100th time) and got intoxicated gratis. Since it was only 3 a.m. when we left, we decided to head back up north and stop at UnderBar. Rather than watch two 35-year olds make out outside, we went a few doors over to a different 5 a.m. bar. One drink in, we decided to head out. But we couldn’t find Jason. He had been kicked out for using the women’s bathroom. His cell phone was dead. Dale was pissed. Then Emerson, Jan and Dan from Hungry Brain got there. So we stayed til close. It was a long night.

Saturday wasn’t nearly as exciting, but was still fun. I watched the Sox game at The Machine and did layout work on issue 2. Both should be out (in print) by the Empty Bottle show. We have a month. Once the Sox won, Kelsey and I picked up Merle and John and headed over to the Old Chocolate Factory. Izom, the guys we rent from, were playing and we figured it we should check them out. They were awesome. None of us are big metal fans, but we know a good live act when we see one. They are a good live act. Once the keg was tapped (I realize I sound like a frat boy (Sorry, Mike)) we headed back to the office. John tried to fix Kelsey's computer and the rest of us listened to the Beach Boys, The Cars and M.I.A.

Sunday. Stuff happened Sunday. I don't remember what.

Rather than go to Carol's like we do every Monday night, Kelsey and I decided to try out Bingo at the California Clipper. Sarah and Emerson were there and it was a pleasant evening. We even got a Gwen Stefani poster for the office out of the trip (Thank you, Sarah).

Kelsey, Laura, Brian, Manny, Chris and some guy from Scotland watched the Sox game at Full Shilling, a bar across the street from Wrigley Field until the 10th inning. After not tipping enough (I ran out of $), we left and watched the rest of the game at Kelsey's. She passed out. I watched the longest game in World Series history.

The Sox won the World Series last night. I interviewed Canasta last night. Kelsey and I watched three episodes of "Arrested Development" last night.

I'm currently sitting at Kelsey's desk, trying to finish up a post I began 4-hours ago. Sarah is here, fixing up issue 1.

Post summary: I did stuff, I write like a pre-teen girl who just got back from an awesome mall trip.

Bitch, blog, bitch

This thing is supposed to chronicle what it's like to put out a magazine. Sometimes it does touch upon said subject, sometimes not. The goal of this post is to tie together all the snippets in my life and show how everything in my life is now attached to The Machine.

I'm currently writing this in The Machine office. +

In the past week I've: sent out emails to some writers about deadlines, began layout on issue 2, edited issue 1 to stay current, added Google ads to the site, requested new printing quotes, compiled articles for issue 2, compiled art for issue 2, contacted photographers for shots, scheduled interviews...+

I got drunk on Friday, Saturday and Monday night. -

I did Machine work while drunk on Saturday and night. +

But I still don't have a full-time job, which means I can't print the magazine, which means we won't get ads for future issues. There is the dilemma. Unlike Nelly and Kelly Rowland's dilemma, I will not be able to be a guest on B.E.T.'s 106 and Park.

---

Slipknot is playing the Congress tonight and tomorrow night. The security guards keep trying to get in the office. Fuck Bucktown.

---

Kelsey and I saw "Kiss Kiss Bang Bang" last night. It was pretty good. If all goes as planned we'll see "Gunner Palace" tonight. I'm trying to attend one happening a night for free. So far, so good.

---

I've got to get on the Blue Line now. If I wait any longer, I'll lose my transfer.

Zines

I picked up a really cool zine today at the UIC Zine Fest. It's called "Free Advice: regular people tell you what they thing." I started reading it at the UIC/Halsted blue line stop and by the time I hit Wester, I was done. The thing is great. If you ever see it, I recommend picking it up.

I'm only trusting albums that won't let me down. I need "In Utero" and "Of This Blood." They're the only ones that I can understand. I guess that's what happens after you drank too much. It's too late/early to comprehend anything else. But it's what I deserve. At least they're good. Too good. Things that I will not be able to beat. I'll keep trying, but I won't be able to reach what they have.

I keep dropping my cigarette on myself. I'm not sure how much more my pants can take. I'll find out soon.

Sarah is getting married. She's my age. I can't afford to go to her wedding. I'm sorrry Sarah. I wish I could be there. I wish you nothing but the best. I am not ready to get married. God knows I'm not. Not that I believe in god, but I do believe in age old sayings. I also belive in the Beach Boys. If Brian Wilson wrote it, it must be good.

Max and Amy are leaving for new jobs. Good job guys. I will not be leaving. I'm sorry, but I just can't. There is too much here that I need. I hope you understand.

Johnny Cash is a man to look up to because he was more flawed that most of us. He knew what he wanted, but he didn't know how to handle anything. Without the women in his life, he was useless. Drugged up, drunk and unable to perform. I believe that most men feel this way, they just don't know it. I may only be drunk, but I know I'm flawed. I'm not the worst,but I'm certantly not the best.

The Chicago Public School system is fucking me up more than anything else. I didn't even go to a Chicago public school, but I know the damage they're inflicting. Racism does exist, just not how you picture it.

Whatever I write here won't get out to the people that need to read it. Professionals don't read blogs. Only people who name check do. I can't judge. If a blog doesn't have Brandon or Wetherbee written anywhere in it, I usually don't read it. Unless it's a friend or a good writer, it's useless. Therefore, most blogs are useless. This one is.

I'm going to go back to listening to Detachment Kit's "Of This Blood."

Say You'll Be There"

Take the quiz: "Which'>http://www.zenhex.com/quiz.php?id=5012">"Which Spice Girl Are You?"

Posh spice (Victoria)
You my friend are most like posh spice. youre sophisticated, fun loving, and a really nice person (deapite what people may think). you love to hang out and have fun and you always look good. some people think youre just a rich snob, but youre actually a nice, fun person!

Pain repeated over and over

When "You Know You're Right" by Nirvana was first linked, I put the link to the mp3 on Fetor's web site. I would listen to the song on repeat for hours at a time. A few years later, I once again have the mp3 of the song. I am listening to the song on repeat. Probably for hours at a time.

We don't have to breed

I’ve spend two hours on the el today. The last 20-minutes were the worst. On a brown line train from the loop, six kids that belonged to Iowa State football fans were running around. The loudest was a 9 or 10 year-old boy that kept making suicide jokes. They weren’t funny. Behind me was a Q101 employee (I know this because her hoodie said “Q101 employee”) bitching to a fellow co-worker about song levels.

I hope the brown line train from the loop derails.

The one where Young has devil horns

The Machine office has about 100 cds and 100 records. Whenever I don’t know what I want to listen to, I put on AC/DC’s “Highway To Hell.”

AC/DC is possibly the only band that sounds better to me every time I hear them. Sure, I haven’t liked anything they’ve put out since 1990, but it doesn’t matter. The entire Bon Scott era is damn near perfect and the first 10-years of Brian Johnson was good too.

I don’t like AC/DC because they sing about sex, drugs and rock and roll. I don’t like AC/DC for their Australian take on the blues. I don’t like AC/DC because of Angus Young’s guitar solos. I love AC/DC because their music matches their subject matter. Led Zeppelin’s music does not match their lyrical content. I don’t think of Frodo when I hear them, even though Mr. Plant is singing about him. Black Sabbath sang about evil shit, but their music wasn’t evil enough for me. “Fat Bottom Girls” by Queen is the best example of music and lyrics that just don’t fit. I’m sorry Mr. Mercury, but all songs about ass should be bass heavy.

AC/DC has released some of my favorite music of all time. I’ll listen to it alone, at a party, in a bar, during service, at a funeral…it doesn’t matter, because if I want blood, I got it.

Site work

I'm pretty much done with the basic design for the radio, events and about page on The Machine site. They're not good, but they're something.

It's now time to get back to harassing businesses for ads. Always fun.

I ain't got nobody

In the last dream I had last night, there was a song in my head. I had never heard the song before. Therefore, it was my song. It was awesome. When I woke up, I could no longer remember how the song sounds. Instead, “Just a Gigolo” was in my head. Fuck you David Lee Roth.

Best soundtrack of the year

The soundtrack for the video game Stubbs the Zombie is awesome. 13 bands covering classic pop songs. Awesome. I might now be a fan of Death Cab for Cutie. I love this soundtrack. I am impressed by this soundtrack. Good job Shout Factory.

I'm really glad that I don't have to turn this into an album review. I'd rather gush about the album.

The more you know

What is on the loveseat? It is cocaine.

When the guy that was sitting on the seat got up, he looked down at the seat, swore a lot, then walked away. It was delightful.

Step Two

The moral of this picture is if you hang out after a show, you will get a photo with a member of the band. In this case, the only member of the band that I wanted to meet.

Step One

The Dandy Warhols at CBGB. This is my first of two touristy pictures that involve the band.

Pointless

I just realized that it doesn't matter how many posts I make today, the Lincoln photo will still be there. Honest Abe is haunting me.

To Do

I find myself making to do lists whenever I'm at a bar. It's not that I'm having a bad time or want to avoid interaction with other people. I just feel compelled to write down a list of everything I need to do. It's odd, but not that odd. I'm sure that other people are like this. If they aren't, everyone but me is lazy. Assholes.

"Stay On My Side Tonight"

The new Jimmy Eat World EP is really good. I'm shocked by how much I like it. Good job JEW.

Reviewing CDs

When you work at a radio station, you review a lot of CDs. So far today, I've reviewed the new Neil Young, Atmosphere, Matt Pond PA, The Fall and The Juliana Theory. The Juliana Theory sucks ass. They don't deserve anything but pain that will make them stop playing instruments. Horrible. God awful.

Reason

The reason why I'm posting so much today is so that the Lincoln photo will leave the front page. Once it does, the links and profile will come back to the top. Then I will post what I wrote at CMJ. That's one reason.

I wrote this on an envelope at the Hungry Brain last night

Museums in the future will just be a collection of hard drives.

The White Stripes

Matt really hates The White Stripes. So I'm making him listen to an entire concert. Ha.