8-5!

I've got about twenty minutes in which I need to eat lunch and blog, as after that it's straight down to Ruby's for Browns/Jets... CATCH IT! So let's hit the ground running here, yeah?

As it happens, not only is Lita going to be on RAW, Lita and Trish are going to be on RAW, so Mrs. Stratus wasn't replaced, she was just added to. Also, get this... SUNNY is going to be there. I've heard she's been lookin' good lately, but last time I laid eyes on Tammy Sytch, she was... how to say... not in WWE shape.


In other words, I'm not expecting this woman to come walking through that door.

WWE is going way overboard for this 15th anniversary show though. It starts at 8, so if you want to watch it, I'll be watching it. Expect lots of surprises and cameos.

Where the Hell did I get the Spandau Ballet song from?

Anyway, sorry this was brief, but I didn't want to risk getting drunk at the game and completely forgetting to update afterwards. Besides, if you want content, read yesterday's entry! IT'S CHOCK FULL.


Peace.

Mo' Music Mo' Problems

Funky Winkerbean is still doing the "TEN YEARS IN THE FUTURE" deal it's been doing since Lisa died, and Christ only knows when or if Batiuk's going to return to the regular timeline. I mention it because there was finally a revelation that mattered today: One-Armed Becky is married to Comic Book John. They dated while Wally was in Afghanistan the first time, and then she pretty much dropped him like a bad habit as soon as Wally returned. What a pussy you turned out to be, John. I used to feel bad for him, but seriously dude, don't be such a doormat. This is the worst comic strip in history, but I can't stop reading it.


I'd better learn how to face it!

Oh, BAD NEWS, SON. Can't really rock the Daymon tense as I don't recall him ever saying that. Anyhow, both sides left the table in the television dispute. The writers say they're still willing to talk, but the AMPTP (Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers) appear to be fed up with the whole affair. Without a miracle of some sort, this TV season may be DONE. This drives me crazy as a consumer. Objectively, I can see why this is important and why there needs to be change, but as a fan of television, I'm totally boned. What do shows do? Just pick up like nothing happened when they return? Oh, and the Screen Actors Guild contract expires in June, so we've got that to look forward to as well.


Stamos, feeling his career slipping away by the second.

I owe you a Luchagors recap. Here we go.

On Tuesday night, after a peaceful accord was reached with President Jonathan Meowington, Hall and Oates, and U-God (see here), myself, Andrew, and Dave hit the road for the nearby hamlet of Heath, Ohio to see what Lita was up to.


Back when she was famous.

I had never been to Heath, but the trip there didn't give me much opportunity to imagine what it may have been like, because we listened to the vast majority of The Big Doe Rehab instead! The album had dropped (as the kidz are fond of saying) that morning, and Dave had already listened to it. He declared it to be "unimpressive", much like Jonathan Meowington's sister, Low-jinx the Unimpressive One. Funky D and I, knowing Dave to be a sucka MC who doesn't like Eurotrip and refuses to watch The Office, popped it into the Silver Deuce's CD contraption, unabated. Granted, I've only listened to it once so this may change, but I'd place it somewhere between the first and second Fish albums of last year. I'd say More Fish > The Big Doe Rehab > Fishscale. Ghostface is turning into quite a prolific rapster. Davekwon was pretty much sold on the album the second time around, owing largely to environmental factors whick Funky D once described in better detail than I can over here. I'm quite the link slut today. The upside of this link, unlike the one to Dave's blog earlier, is that you can ROFFLE at how gay Andrew and I are, and how we're probably destined to have an Oscar/Felix living arrangement when we're in our '50s. Which he'll be in much sooner than I. BA-ZING!


"Hiya, bunkmate. Do you love me?"

So we make it to Heath, and there's no sign of this "Valhalla Hall" where the concert is supposed to be taking place. Instead, there's a strip of shops with identical signage, including, and I'm not making this up, a NASCAR MERCHANDISE STORE. We looked through the window, and yes, there are some Ohio State and Cleveland Browns doo-dads to be had in the back, but by and large, it's wall to wall NASCAR. Amazing. Anyhow, next door to this stunning bit of architecture is a store called Sheets and Sons Music or... MAXIMUM MUSIC USA. As in musical instruments. For when you want to take your music TO THE MAX, according to their website. But no Valhalla Hall. Andrew was dubious, but there were a bunch of teenagers milling around outside, which seemed odd for a music store at 9 pm, so we parked and went to investigate.

We were in the right spot it seems, as Valhalla Hall is located INSIDE THIS MUSIC STORE. Not only that, but it's an all ages, non-alcoholic venue INSIDE THIS MUSIC STORE. Now, I may be a little rusty on my Norse mythology, but I was under the impression that Valhalla was pretty much all about getting piss drunk after a long day of fighting. Odin may want to have a word with the operators of this establishment. It was wall to wall kids, for one thing. Ranging in age from two (seriously) to seventeen, it's hard to say what attracted them here this night. Maybe as an all ages venue this is their normal clientele, or maybe it was the ex-wrestling star with giant fake boobs who lulled them in on this Tuesday night. One thing for certain is that they don't know how to act at a rock show. The whole time we were there, they didn't really cheer, they didn't really react at all to the bands. They would clap at the end of each song, and they would "mosh" with gusto (the aforementioned two-year-old got in on that action, which was momentarily horrifying), and they would periodically throw each other to the floor and wrestle in order to impress their gawky girlfriends.

From the moment we entered the venue portion of the building, which was pretty much just a big room with stone walls and a cement floor, we knew this was going to be an interesting experience. A local band was allegedly playing music (funny aside: as we were heading in, a member of one of the bands that had already played was being teased by his mother for his lackluster performance), making a dreadful racket. We beat a quick retreat to the outside and delighted in denying children cigarettes. "How old are you?" "...Eighteen." "Learn to lie faster." Upon re-entering, the same band (presumably) was still playing, though they were winding down, as they announced they had two songs left, but only time enough to play one. They allowed the audience to vote, and I'm not sure which they ended up playing, but one was called March of the Proletariat, which Dave was really excited about. That's when it happened.

The three of us were standing just outside the room, and Dave and Andrew noticed that Amy "Lita" Dumas herself was standing just a couple of feet away, talking to some dude. I looked over, saw that it was her, and as soon as we made eye contact, immediately averted my gaze to look at a rack of belts. That's right. I'm a smooth operator. Dave and Andrew teased me about my behavior, and with good reason. I really can't explain what happened there. I guess I just got a little starstruck. I had been feeling out of place since we'd arrived to begin with, what with Amy herself being the only woman I was comfortable lusting after as she was practically the only female in the joint that I knew for a fact to be of legal age. And then I couldn't even look her in the eyes. It was a weird situation, though. Here's this woman I've been watching on television since 1999, a woman whose autobiography I've read for Christ's sake (good read, I might add), and now she's no more than three feet from me. Whatever one is supposed to do in such a situation, I didn't. I just awkwardly pretended that she wasn't there as my companions cackled.

The Luchagors' set began a few minutes later, and I have to say that I was quite impressed. The instrumentation was adequate, and while I couldn't make out many lyrics due to the acoustics of the building, Amy does have serious stage presence. This isn't a shock, as being in front of a live crowd week in and week out for seven straight years will make a natural out of anyone, but above and beyond that, she just looks like a star standing there. I don't know if this band will have any real legs, but it's certainly not going to be her fault if they don't make it to the next level. I'd gladly go see them again, preferably in Columbus, and preferably where I can knock back a few adult beverages.

After the show, as we stood outside reflecting on what we'd witnessed, she walked by again. This time I was ready. "Hey, great show" I remarked. Amy looked back at me as she headed into the store and said "Thanks". It was pretty cool. Then some teenager ruined it by yelling something about breaking her in half with his dick, but I'd had my moment.

All in all, it was a great week for live music, and that should continue tonight as I'm planning on hitting up Carabar for Tree of Snakes, Necropolis, The Lindsay, and a band from Chicago simply called "Shopping." Should be good times, and as usual, admission is free. Any takers?


'Tis the season and stuff. So long, The Office.

[Daymon]GOOD NEWS, SON![/Daymon]

DREAMCAST UPDATE: I finally disconnected all of the cables and controllers today, preparing to put everything back in the box like the day I brought it home. I had decided on making the console a featured attraction in my bedroom, making a nice altar for her, propping my favorite games up around the gentle beast in tribute. While I was preparing for this, I noticed how dusty the ol' girl was under the hood, so I took a paper towel and set to work, trying to clear dust and detritus from every visible nook and cranny. After taking a look at how gray the towel had become, it occurred to me to reconnect everything and give it one more go. Like some kind of custodial magic, my precious baby sprang back to life, not only powering on, but spinning discs like Mix Master Mike or somethin'. For all those concerned, it appears that the rumors of Whirry's death have been greatly exaggerated. I had been going on the assumption that the disc motor was done for, but I guess the laser was merely unable to cut through the linty rubble of my own neglect. Hopefully this is a long term fix, though it's made me mindful of the fragile, tenuous nature of all game systems. My original Playstation for example, which I traded my Genesis and all of my games in order to obtain, lasted a mere eighteen months before letting me down. In retrospect, another year and a half of being able to play Triple Play '96 and Shadowrun was worth far more than I got in return.


She's baaaaaaaaack.

So, no replacement necessary, but thanks to no less than THREE people offering to hook me up for Christmas. I can always use wacky games, though.


THAT'S ME!

Might as well go out with something related to The Office. It's been like two or three days, right? Jenna, ever the optimist thinks that as long as they get back to work in January they can squeeze in the entire 28 episode order. Just 14 left to film!


Makin' television dreams come true!

Lucky Man (Not Michael J Fox's Autobiography)

No Luchagors recap today after all, as I'm in a hurry and won't have time to do it justice. Maybe Saturday morning would be best for that, as I'm usually able to stake out some time before class to do a proper blog entry. Incidentally, the thing I was most excited about for Monday's 15th Anniversary RAW, Trish Stratus' appearance, has apparently been changed to a Lita appearance. They must have heard about Heath, Ohio and scrambled to get her back before she's snatched up by a major label.

Right now, I'm just popping in to keep the streak going, as I'll be spending my late evening making editing suggestions for a paper for my aunt. That's the sweet life my friends. Wish me luck.


Wow, it worked!

A Death In the Family - Non Video Game Nerds BEWARE

Here lies "Whirry", the noisy little chatterbox of a console that won my heart and mind so many summers ago.

Whirry, your work was done and God finally called you home. You made my life so much richer. Oh the hours spent mastering sick combos on "Tony Hawk's Pro Skater," the countless eight man tags hard fought and won on "Fire Pro Wrestling D," the sheer madness of putting a ghoul in a figure four leglock in "Zombie Revenge." I feel like pouring liquor would be insufficient, so instead, I will count down my all time top five favorite Dreamcast games. The envelope please...

Number Five...

"Shenmue"



From the breathtaking (at the time) visuals, to the fun and VMU-friendly fighting system, to the deep, involving storyline, Shenmue is still one of the most incredible video game experiences I've ever had. A friend of mine once said of Shenmue II that it redefined for him what was possible in a video game. I felt like that with the first, as I've still never found as immersive an adventure as found in the early trials and tribulations of Ryo Hazuki.

Number Four...

"Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 2"



I had to put one of the first two games on the list, and I think that although the soundtrack for this game is weaker than that of the original, the new gameplay mechanics more than make up for it. I'm of the opinion that the series reached perfection here, as each subsequent edition, while enjoyable, has added too much to the package, to the point that they've severely overcomplicated the games. This game is easy to pick up and play, and doesn't require a lifelong devotion to master. There was an X-Box version called Tony Hawk's Pro Skater 2X that featured all of the levels from the first two games, but I never picked it up while I owned an X-Box. Just didn't see the need. NOW I'M FILLED WITH REGRET.

Number Three...

"NBA 2K2"



Back when the franchise was the exclusive domain of Allen Iverson, I purchased this edition the day it dropped, and was rewarded with the finest basketball simulation I'd ever played. To this day, that holds true. Visual Concepts has got to be the greatest developer in history. They burst onto the scene with some of the later games in the 16 bit era of sports gaming, and then hooked up with SEGA Sports exclusively. From there, they began to completely blow Electronic Arts away in quality of games. Titles like NFL 2K2, NHL 2K2, and of course the above honored NBA 2K2 couldn't be touched by their EA counterparts. Again I lament Sega's inability to effectively market anything, as I should be playing NBA 2K8 on one of their consoles right now.

Number Two...

"ECW Hardcore Revolution"



SIKE. That game sucks. It's like, the worst wrestling game I've ever played. Ever. EVER.

Number Two...

"Jet Grind Radio"



This game is about spraypainting. There are more games about spraypainting now, but I think this was the first. And if it wasn't, it's the first one that mattered. Also, "I HAVE AN ADDENDUM! DON'T YOU KNOW THAT IT WAS ORIGINALLY CALLED JET SET RADIO!" That fuckin' guy.

And my NUMBER ONE Dreamcast game of all time...

"Fire Pro Wrestling D"



As if there were any doubt. I've loved this game from the moment Franz imported it for me. I loved it from before I had it. I loved it from the moment I first played the lamentable Wrestlemania for NES and wished there were something better out there. In short, I love this game. So many moves, so many reversals, so much depth. I really need a PS2.

Anyway, I'll be back tomorrow with a full recap of The Luchagors show in Heath (and what a show it was), but I felt this was a most PRESSING matter. As for Jenna, how about a classic pic for an entry about a classic console?


Ah yes. Just like playing "Sonic Adventure."

I can talk music

First thing's first, as I've been promising Paul I would review a sampling of Powerglove tracks from their new album, Metal Kombat For the Mortal Man. For those unfamiliar, Powerglove is a video game cover band. I listened to three songs, and here is what I thought!

So Sexy Robotnik: This of course, would be a reference to Dr. Robotnik of Sonic The Hedgehog infamy, and while I never really thought of him as sexy, this song is pretty great in a "best possible Power Rangers replacement theme" kind of way. Works.

Power, Wisdom, Courage: Something to do with the Zelda universe, but I can't place it early on. I never played much of those later games, so maybe it's from the (more) current era. Eventually it gets into some familiar Link to the Past material, so that's cool. Instrumental metal in general is just weird, though. Maybe if it actually were the soundtrack to a game it would work better for me, but this left me cold aside from the glimmers of recognition.

Red Wings Over Baron: A Final Fantasy V thing, apparently. I never could use those games, and the orchestral meandering on display here does nothing to make me forget that. Not to mention this track is nigh eight minutes in length. Yuck.

So, maybe at a concert with a video screen marrying the music with the games this would be worth a listen, but I unfortunately can't recommend the recorded experience from the small sample size before me.


SORRY PAUL.

Now, for a musical experience I can get behind 100%, I present you my summation of last night's Hall and Oates holiday concert from the lovely Palace Theater!

With our intrepid band of bros eager with anticipation (for the most part), the progenitors of Philly Soul brought a full flavored two hour onslaught of Christmas classics, Yuletide originals, and hits from their own catalogue. The first set featured nine Christmas songs, with the covers being a healthy mix of the conventional and the obscure. I heard, for the first time in my life, an acceptable version of It Came Upon a Midnight Clear, so that's something right there. Daryl Hall's original tune, Home For Christmas, was especially strong, and I think this concert was timed perfectly, as I was at just the right place to be put into the Christmas spirit.

After a brief (maybe two and a half minutes, seriously) intermission, the boys and their big ass band came back to play some more traditional Hall and Oates fare, including Rich Girl, She's Gone, I Can't Go For That, and Out of Touch. Conspicuous by their absence were Maneater and Kiss On My List, but given that it was a Christmas themed concert, I can forgive them for not completely emptying their bag of tricks. All in all, I had a fabulous time, as did Davekwon and Uncle Adam. As for Funky D, thank you very much for the present. I just wish you'd enjoyed yourself more.

I was smoking a cigarette this afternoon while wearing winter gloves. By the time I had finished, I noticed that I had somehow burned a perfect figure 8 into one of the fingers. It's unfortunate to damage a nice pair of gloves, but it did afford me an opportunity to know what it's like to be Fire Marshall Bill.

I got to see Kenta Kobashi's return match from Budokan Hall on the 2nd. For a guy coming back from fairly serious cancer, he looked good. Hell, for Kenta Kobashi he looked good. He just constantly amazes me. Seriously, one of the greatest wrestlers who's ever lived, and more people should know that.


A scene from PBS Tokyo's "Mr. Kobashi's Neighborhood"

Tonight is a big night for the KOV + 1 - 1 + Jonathan, as the trio is heading to HEATH, OHIO in order to see The Luchagors live and in person. The Luchagors, for anyone living in a cave since they started burning up the charts last winter, are a punk-rock outfit headed up by one Amy "Lita" Dumas. Yes, that Lita.


Lita, in (hopefully) full makeup.

I fully expect this show to suck. I just think it's incumbent on me to witness such a thing. And who knows? I might be taken by surprise and get rocked to pieces.


"Your professional opinion, Ms. Beesley?" "Well, Mr. Halpert, it would appear the young man has been rocked to pieces."

My Little Corner of the Web

DREAMCAST UPDATE: The console will power on but won't spin a disc. The disc spinning part is important in both DJing and playing video games. I'll give it a break for a couple of days and hope that it works itself out, but things are looking bleak. Please keep Ol' Whirry in your thoughts.


It's okay, sweetheart. You'll be with Dr. King soon.

I forgot to mention how nice it was having Uncle Adam at Ruby's for the game yesterday, even if he does blame himself for the loss. Even the Browns can't win every game, man. According to Fern they're 11-1 now, so pretty close. And don't worry: by his math, yesterday wasn't the one loss. It stuns me that there's actually a loss on that schedule that he can't explain away into being a victory. Special lad, that one.

I've stopped subscribing to Figure Four Weekly. I love Bryan Alvarez, and the online content provided with radio shows and whatnot was a great value, but I started getting the newsletter for just that, the newsletter, and he's spending a disproportionate amount of his space on low-level mixed martial arts stories and results that I couldn't care less about. I don't see that changing in the near future, so it looks like The Wrestling Observer is going to have to satisfy my thirst for high-end analysis of the business for the time being. I'm more afraid of Dave Meltzer than I am Bryan Alvarez anyway.


"Cancelled subscription? BLARG! MELTZER GO CRAZY! ARM BAR!"

Heather B sucks, Andrew. Sorry.

On the other hand, nine years later, Ball and Bun is fucking awesome. It makes me shudder to think how much greater Bun B could have been had he been in a better creative environment this past decade. He's amazing, and pretty much the best thing about southern rap, but it's almost damning him with faint praise to say so.

I don't know how strike talks went the past couple of days, but judging by the lack of new episodes of The Office on the horizon, I'd say NOT WELL ENOUGH.


GET THEM BACK TO WORK.

Home Cookin'

Boger's on the take! Kellen Winslow don't step out of bounds! He's a SOULJA! Damn dirty refs. Playin' in the desert is for bitches. Pharoahe Monch kinda sucks in 2007. Not Pahroahe Monch from 2007. Just listening to Pharoahe Monch in 2007. Na mean?


"I TOLD YOU I WAS A SOLDIER!"

I was wrong about Ohio State. They're going to play LSU, and not Georgia. Good. Bulldogs, Tigers, whatever. They're all goin' down for the count. The SEC's on notice after what happened this past January. BUCKEYES HAVE GOT IT ON LOCK.

I watched that Ring of Honor show with Andrew. It was pretty good. Dave Meltzer's seriously overselling it by calling it one of the best pay per views ever, though. That ladder match was entertaining, but nothing I'd ever want to watch again. Couple that with the shitty finish in the world title match and I'd say it was the worst of the RoH ppv offerings so far. Also, no Sweet and Sour Inc. or Adam Pearce segments? Horrible time management.

Tomorrow night is Hall and Oates and the ENTIRE WORLD IS JEALOUS. I will be busy thrilling to the dulcet tones of blue eyed soul teaching me about kisses on lists and the first noel. You'll be busy banging your girlfriends or something. NAP DADDY 4 THE WIN.


Unless they're your girlfriends. Then you probably made the right choice.

Hate

Heading into today, I thought Ohio State had a pretty decent chance of sneaking into the national championship picture. So many dominoes had already fallen just right to leave the Buckeyes poised to take the number two ranking. The only thing standing in their way? The Big 12 Championship game pitting Cody's own Oklahoma Sooners against top-ranked Missouri. As I write these words, that game has not ended, but with OU leading by 18 with about 10 minutes to go in the 4th quarter, it seems likely that the Tigers will be toppled. The trouble is, it turned out to be unnecessary.

When the season began, I pegged the national championship matchup as Ohio State versus West Virginia, more out of fervent fanboyism than any kind of measured analysis. And with Oklahoma cruising against Missouri, it appeared that I was about to get my wish. Trouble is, Pitt clearly didn't receive my script, as they held the high-powered Mountaineer offense in check, allowing just nine points, and downing their hated rival in the 100th edition of their "Backyard Brawl."

So with both top teams out of the money (barring a miraculous comeback by Missouri), that leaves Ohio State most likely leaping to number one for the second time this season, and probably taking on number 4 Georgia (who I imagine will leapfrog the fallen Tigers and Mountaineers to grab the 2 spot.

As for my dream of an Ohio State/West Virginia national championship game... well, there's always next season.

I'm going to go drink some brandy, watch a DVR backlog of Frasier and pretend this day never happened.

More Wu-Tang gossip than you can shake a stick at

Too much is made of the fact that there's no FDA approved cure for the common cold. This is the kind of thing that "counter-culture" dorks complain about while comparing the United States to Nazi Germany. Who the fuck cares about the common cold? So you're inconvenienced maybe a couple of times a year for 3-5 days. I'm being inconvenienced by one right now. You know what you don't have? Malaria. But you sure as Hell deserve it. I don't want to attend your beat poetry night, and I'm definitely not going to pretend that Charles Bukowski ever wrote anything worth reading just for your sake. I don't think you can get your douchebag band merit badge until you honor that dude in verse.


"She dangled that carrot, then asked me, 'What would Bukowski do?' / Don't go there, he'd make you his Mom / And then completely lie about it in a book later on." Would you PLEASE fuck off, Sage Francis?

Still wanting to watch that Ring of Honor ppv tomorrow night, but I'm not going to view it by myself. No takers? Come on... I know how much you all love the Briscoes.

Big week ahead, with Hall and Oates and the Luchagors on successive evenings. We've got a spot in the car left over for anyone who wants to see the latter band in Heath. Tuesday night, ten bucks, probably listening to someone's copy of the new Ghostface album on the way there.



I wish I were friends with Josh Groban. I can't stand his music, but he just looks friendly.

Back to Ghostface for a minute, I wrote a while back about Tony Yayo and the things he said about Supreme Clientele being mostly ghostwritten by rapper Superb. Anyhow, Ghostface finally responded, saying "He (Superb) couldn't make an album, you feel me? I made Supreme Clientele what it is. Those are my stories, based around whatever they're based upon. It's me... But, Yayo can suck a fat dick. Tell him I said that."

YAY.

Also, Ghost and Raekwon are both very unhappy with the new group album, The 8 Diagrams, dropping on the 11th. CAN'T WAIT TO HEAR THAT ONE!

I just want to point out, Dave's blog entry from Wednesday is still cracking me up whenever I think about it. If you haven't read it, what are you waiting for? "Wu-Tang Clan forms like Voltron and U-God happens to be the tail." Jesus.

All right, time to go be collegial.


A Ph.D in fuckin' up my Christmas.