It's all nuts!

I'm sittin' here at my computer, and Funky D is about a foot to my left, slumped over onto a table, arms crossed, and head resting atop them. He is sleeping. I am listening to De La Soul and Mos Def's remix of Stakes is High, and it's fantastic.

We went to Adriatico's for some dinner at about 9, and that was great, as we chatted and half-watched Celebrity Duets on the TV there. I thought Alfonso Riberio had gotten really fat, but it turns out that we were just watching on a widescreen TV while the show wasn't shot in that format, so he was all stretched out. It's kind of the opposite of my DVD of Friday. Everybody looks super skinny because it's in wack ass full-screen. So much hate. Uh oh. Dirt Off Your Shoulder just came on, and somewhere, Adam is freaking out and partying.

Anyway, we went to Carabar tonight to see the Lindsay's CD release show. They're sane so they chose to play second, and they were done by 1:30. Oh yes. It was a long night. Psychedelic Horseshit opened and they are very average. I love Rolo, but his band isn't super. Mors Ontologica played last, supposedly. We didn't see them. After the Lindsay ripped shit and Andrew politicked his way into a free CD, we dropped by Dick's Den for a carry-out 12 pack of Black Label, and returned to the crib for Teen Girl Squad and Youtube music videos. Now, he's unconscious as I type this. Suffice it to say that I'm also drunk, but not diabetic, thus not out cold. WOOOOOOOOOOO! TI just came on, so I'm gonna party and freak out, much like Adam. POICE!

EDIT: Before I forget, I want to mention that we watched the videos for both New Edition's Mr. Telephone Man AND Europe's Final Countdown. This is significant because many months ago Funky D and I watched an episode of We Are the '80s on VH1 Classic featuring both of these fantastic videos, and felt the need to recreate this. I believe we were actually drinking Black Label that time as well, so it's come full circle. Five star night, to be sure.

Idealistically Depleted

I was watching some commercial today and some old song (can't remember what it was now, but that's not important) is playing and I like this song, so I'm kind of jammin' along. It was probably a jeans ad or somebody trying to sell me a Mac. At any rate, I have this moment of realization, like "OMGZ they're using this beautiful piece of music to sell a product that's not the album it first appeared on!" So I sat there with that thought in my head for a couple of seconds, rolled it around, and realized something: fuck that noise. If artists want to license their music to make some extra dough, why should I care one bit? How does it affect me, or for that matter, 99% of the people who complain about such things? We all need to stop being such little bitches about this. At the end of the day, music is an industry.

That is all.

No death for me

I guess I should make this public. Most people know, but I'm sure there are a few who are still expecting me to go out and pummel a man on Friday. Or, conversely, be humiliated. Anyway, the basic story is that nobody has talked to Jay (the fight promoter) in about two weeks, and the last person I talked to said that he never had a license to run the show and was trying to do it completely under the radar, but then someone from the state athletic commission found out, and now he's disappeared. So from what I've been told, the show is off, or at the very least rescheduled. I guess I'll know more if/when he resurfaces, but the fact that he VANISHED isn't very encouraging.

Some of you, like Franz and Cody, are probably very happy that I'm not going to be competing. I AM SAD. Not super-sad, but a little bit melancholy. I wasn't trying to make a career out of this or anything. I just wanted to have one fight. Hopefully I can still do it at some point. My sister has suggested that I go to the Fairfield County Fairgrounds and sign up for one of those shows. She seems to be incapable of grasping the whole spirit of my fighting adventure: I was going to fight because I was guaranteed an opponent who was a complete geek like me who had no idea what he was doing. I would be HUMBLED by fair folk, of this I am sure.

Friday the 15th

Zach Braff's new movie opens next Friday, and as I love him dearly, I'm planning on checking it out opening night. Sadly, it is not Dr. Acula, but it looks pretty interesting anyway.


Alas. Maybe someday.

Anyway, it's called The Last Kiss. It's written by Paul Haggis, who of course wrote both of the previous two Best Picture Academy Award winners, Crash, and Million Dollar Baby. So I have high hopes for this. Anyway, anybody interested?


I am so morose. Please come see my movie. So I can make Dr. Acula.

LotR Haiku

Arwen, one hot elf
Want to grab her pointy ears
And bust both nuts. YEAH~!

January Seems So Far Away

HOLY GOD DAMN FUCKING SHIT.

TRIPLE THREAT

Holy shit My Super Ex-Girlfriend (6:00), Clerks II (7:50), and Strangers With Candy (9:50) are all at Studio 35 this week. I'M GOIN'. Who's in? WHO'S IN?

The Future, Nappy?

I'm going to spend the next couple of days at Amy's house in Thurston.


Positively smashing idea, lovey.

Thankfully for you gentle readers, there's not much to do down there when the nieces and nephews are tranquilized, and Amy recently made the jump to the year 1999 (landscape seen below) by getting the mysterious and wonderful CABLE INTERNET. So more than likely I'll end up doing a blog entry tomorrow evening. I might even finish up Adjunct of the Dead if you're good. See, now you're intrigued.


All right, who went back in time and stepped on a bug? I won't be mad. Just own up.

UFC 62

Adjunct of the Dead recap/analysis is on its way, but right now I just wanted to clear something up. So far, three people have dipped out of UFC for this Saturday. Is ANYONE going to go with me, or am I heading to Out-R-Inn all by my lonely?

One For Daymon

The King of Columbus

I was in bed last night, fitfully trying to fall asleep. I looked at the clock every so often. Three am, four-thirty, five. My stomach was churning slightly all night long, and I kept forgetting, or maybe blocking out, what was bothering me. But every time I would look at that clock and think to myself, "Why on Earth can't I fall asleep?" it would come rushing back: Daymon is gone.


Daymon with the product of his obsession

Daymon is a fellow CAHS graduate, but I didn't know him in high school. Several years older and not exactly traveling in the same social circles, it was a while before we crossed paths. I remember the first time I ever saw Daymon, though. At least, the first time I can recall. I was with Andrew at some hip hop show or another, and I saw this huge black man seated in a wheelchair. If you've ever seen Daymon, he's not easy to forget.


This picture is... indescribable. Actually, it's not. It's Daymon with a black luchadore. There, I described it.

The first few times I saw Daymon, over what seemed like three or four months, he was always in that wheelchair, to the point where I just assumed he was crippled. I was actually shocked the first time I saw him standing on his own. He was always someone who amused me from afar, though. Even though Andrew knew some of the people Daymon ran around with, he wasn't tight with them, so I was even further from that.


Rockin' the 'stache phenomenally.

It all kind of came together just in the past few months. Daymon and Andrew began hanging out a lot, and that benefited me because a lot of the time where Andrew goes, there go I. So I got to spend time with Daymon. And today I feel so blessed that I was able to get to know him a little bit before he left us. Daymon knew so many people, was friends with so many people, it must have been overwhelming to fit it all in. We weren't really close. I won't front on that. But we were friends, and Daymon always had a kind word and a handshake for me whenever I saw him. I can't ask for much more.


An artist's rendering of a five-star man.

It's really staggering when you think of what Columbus is losing in Daymon. A music fan, a DJ, a movie goer, a mascot for the local rock scene. Daymon seemed to be at all the shows, sometimes as if he was bi-locating. He just loved being there for live music. I talked to him about this one time a couple of months ago. I wondered aloud if he went to as many shows as Andrew does. I think the answer is yes, but he didn't touch on it. Instead, he just said something to the effect of, "Shit can happen anywhere, and I like to be there when it does." Forgive me if it's not an exact quote, but that's certainly the gist. And it may be the best way I can sum Daymon up, as well.


Celebrity.

If I could live my life half as happily as Daymon seemed to and have half the fun that he packed into his short time here, I'll consider that a life well spent. Death is never easy to cope with, especially the death of those so young. All you can do is promise yourself that you'll live your own life a little better.