Kill 'em all

53. Dashiell Hammett "Red Harvest"

It may rain in the neighborhood but that's ok

My good friend Daniel Knox and I are both fans of Mr. Rogers. If all goes as planned we're going to have a celebration of Mr. Rogers life on Febuary 27 2007, the four year anniversary of his passing away. While doing research on Fred Rogers I began listening to an interview he did on The Diane Rehm Show in 2002.

Diane Rehm is a slow talker, similiar to Mr. Rogers. Her voice is fragile and sounds even weaker when filtered through RealPlayer. The host and her guest together is an odd pairing. Imagine an ordinary interview on WBEZ played at half-speed. Anyways, Mr. Rogers is an excellent guest. Mrs. Rehm asks her guest about his characters in the Land of Make Believe and Mr. Rogers presents some of them. The second half of the show is for calls. No one calls with a question. Mother after mother give accounts of how Mr. Rogers has helped them raise their children. The second caller had me in tears.

I used to ridicule my mother because of her love for Mr. Rogers. At 10 years old I didn't want to hear some old guy sing songs. At 23 I want to hear some old guy sing songs.

Things don't seem so bad with Mr. Rogers. He never shied away from difficult issues. Anger was a common theme on his show and there were multiple special episodes that dealt with death, divorce, war, murder and more. It's all going to be ok and if Mr. Rogers believed it, I'll believe it too.

I'm 14

Kill Hannah is on 'JBTV'. They're talking about the Smashing Pumpkins. The only difference between 2006 and 1996 is I'm a hell of a lot heavier and know about a few more bands.

I (kind of) reached the goal

52. Jake Austen "TV-a-Go-Go: Rock on TV from American Bandstand to American Idol"

Ladytron

I spent a few hours making a back-up playlist for the fashion show. When I opened said list while setting up sound equipment I erased my work with one Chaka Kahn song. That kind of sums up the fashion show. Kelsey, Eric and I got to play music for about 15-minutes while dealing with MCing an event we knew nothing about.

I stayed up til 6am on accident. I'm afraid of writing anything too exciting or downright depressing in this space in case one of my students finds this nook of the Internet. Stinkin' kids, never letting me ruin amusement parks.

I'm convinced that art is not all around us nor is revolution. One would be hard pressed after traveling the globe to find either. Than again, I haven't seen the Lake up close in over a year and I live less than a mile away so all that I really know is that I'm full of shit.

He IS the father.

I am an accomplished author that will influence generations to come

Eight copies of issue 17 of Foul were sold at Chicago Comics. I got $6 for my writings. I bought a sweater with my earnings. Suck my dick John Grisham.

World News Now delivers your morning papers, or: the male anchor is a fucking dick

I don't want to get involved with the virtual world phenomenon. I'm about to pull myself out of Facebook and I've only been on the site for a few weeks. I'm regretting ever getting an email address. It's hard to want to move forward with technology when I have health problems that were solved a hundred of years ago. I have the equivalent of mouth scurvey and it's been with me for the last four apartments.

My time has been filled with relatively creative things that will pay the bills, an oddity. One bedroom has no heat and one is much too warm. It's a good feeling to be not on fire.

My schedule allows for daily "Maury" viewings and I'm taking advantage of the luxury. I am 500% sure that he is the father.

The Idiot

Kim Gordon, circa now, looks a lot like Iggy Pop, circa now. Thurston Moore is kinda married to his idol.

Flashing lights

Three guys are installing a railing on the porch. Only one is wearing any sort of eye wear. It looks like the Fourth of July through my windows. Those guys have balls.

My record player has never sounded louder. Little Walter singing sounds like Little Walter screaming. It's great.

The cologne I obtained at Lollapalooza is leaking or has leaked or something and now the box I'm going to reside in smells like 7th grade. Luckily, I enjoyed 7th grade.

Bad in an unfunny way

51. "Teen Angst: A Celebration of Really Bad Poetry" edited by Sara Bynoe