winged forelimbs

"Look! A beautiful white dove."

"That's not a dove. It's a poisonous snow-bat."

"Oh... (long pause).. Do you love me?"

(yawn and a stretch) "Nope."

the rock alarm

for me, there is no sound more unappealing than the sound of an electric alarm clock. i know that there are many different alarms with many different tones of varying degrees of abrasiveness, but they all sound the same to me.
they all sound like handicapped robots.
who are upset about something.
i can't deal with this.
that's why i use a radio alarm; there are more variables.
wether you are aware of it or not, the course of your day can be drastically altered depending on what song is playing the exact moment you wake up.
a great song will always get you up immediately.
"i can't hit Snooze. not during 'Don't Fear the Reaper'!"
ever roll out of bed playing air guitar?
it's a good feeling.
sometimes you'll luck out and catch a string of great tunes.
just last week i was awakened by The Cars' 'Just What I Needed', one of my favorite songs. this alone would've resulted in some excellent wake-age, but the fact that it was followed by the new Foo Fighters song, which was followed by Mountain's 'Mississippi Queen' which was immediately and awesomely followed by Van Halen's 'Hot For Teacher', made for one of the more triumphant mornings i've had in quite some time.
of course, there's also the dark end of the rock alarm spectrum.
a shittly song right off the bat can put a serious taint on what might have been a fresh and exciting new day.
usually when this happens i smack the alarm with a cranky, hungover vengeance, sometimes unplugging it from the wall and causing me to sleep (unsoundly) for several more hours. the Barenaked Ladies have caused me to be late for work more than once. and let's say it's (worse case scenario) Bob Fucking Seger, i'll stay in bed all goddamned day, hating the world and everything in it. i'd actually prefer the squealing of mistreated handicapped robots to Bob Fucking Seger.
but hey, sometimes these things happen.
and sometimes you get the middle ground and wake up to a commercial or a weather report or some bland, inconsequential crap rockers like Creedbox 20 or something.
these may not affect your day the way 'Rock You Like A Hurricane' would, but hey, at least you're awake.
the point is it's the luck of the draw and it's all terribly exciting so get out there and start living dammit.
awesomely yours,
Mike

she's got legs...

i just moved the large shelving unit in my room.
the one that i originally dragged in from the parking lot up the street and hasn't been moved in two years.
oh the wonderful things i found beneath it.
that navy-blue shirt i really like, the one with the collar.
a bunch of Subway stamps.
my Action Week '96 button.
one of those foamy earplugs.
the cassette single of "Let Your Backbone Slide."
an ancient condom. (used)
dozens of staples.
and a nest of Gigantic Spiders.
not those little 'make a web in the corner and keep to myself' kind of spiders. these were 'hulking, prehistoric, talon-legged, running and jumping and tearing your flesh to ribbons' type spiders.
two of these beastly fuckers could take down a well trained adult greyhound, i'm sure of it.
what amuses me the most is the fact that until i moved the shelving unit, we were apparently living in harmony.
or maybe not.
maybe they've been filling my various bodily cavities with their eggs while i sleep.
maybe they've been feasting on my feet and legs for sustinance, (that would explain those mysterious bites.)
maybe they've been feasting on that fossilized condom, (that would explain thier incredible, almost pterodactyl-like strength and agility, not to mention their tasteful facial hair.)
anyway, the important thing is i found that Maestro Fresh Wes tape.
i wanna rock right now.
(and yes, the title of this post is a ZZ Top reference.)

feed them!

finally!
a benefit song that spits in the faces of all other benefit songs while still raising money for a good cause.
(and being hilarious.)

the song is a fun, satirical, Halloween-style rip on that gaudy old benefit classic "Do They Know It's Christmas?", and i must say, they pull it off brilliantly.
it's quite possibly the best benefit song since Springfeild's brightest and best teamed up to sing "Throwin' Our Love Down The Well."

and it's definently the best Halloween-oriented song since Ray Parker Jr.'s "Ghostbusters" took our breath away all those years ago.
(DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince's "Nightmare On My Street" pales in comparison.)

basically, this is a great fucking idea.
here's some hype 'n' stats from the press release:
------------
This song’s inspiration stems from a frustration with other benefit songs’ misguided, somewhat patronizing attitude, and Western-centric worldview.

The song itself is an epic journey into the pulsating heart of fear. It is a rallying cry to stamp out this most scary of holidays. The North American Halloween Prevention Initiative features a who’s-who of current alternative music:
Beck
Sum 41
The Arcade Fire
Sonic Youth
Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Sloan
Peaches
Feist
Devendra Banhart
Wolf Parade
Postal Service
Buck 65
Comedian David Cross
Sex Pistols’ founder Malcolm McLaren
Elvira, Mistress of the Dark
60s soul legend Gino Washington
Psychedelic singer Roky Erickson
Los Angeles 70s group Sparks
Inuit throat singer, Tagaq (a frequent collaborator with Björk)
AND MANY MORE!
------------
check the link on the left to give it a listen.

everything electric and hideous

i've always been of the mind that the beginning of the New Year should be celebrated on September 1st. nothing really happens in January, no real transition, and even if something did happen it would just be clumped into that pseudo-enjoyable winter stretch we call the Holidays.
things shift in September.
always.
school starts anew.
old leases expire. people move.
the scenery changes and the tourists evaporate along with all their bad noises.
even the smell and feel and weight of the air changes.
September is breathing down my neck.
i'll be in a new apartment in a matter of days.
a new elevator.
a different view from a new balcony.
new/different neighbors.
new routes to all the places i ususally go unless i decide to be totally different and start going to all new and different places.
i'm even planning on getting a new job.
and a new bed.
and just to be different i'll call my new bed the Fuck-o-Tron 9000.
my chest cavity is throbbing with all the dust and gristle and noise of another screwball summer. all those Big Plans that started gestating in June/July have been digested and shat and have returned to the Earth and i had absolutely no idea until just this second.
this is what we call the Late-August Crunch.
the sweaty optimistic desperation we so badly need.
until September staggers in and dutifully kicks all the pieces off the board, leaving us with a fistfull of dice and enough crazy scams to hopefully carry us through to that first frost.
lick it up.
lick it up.
more more more.
(it's only right now.)

yarrrr

our new theme is theme parties.
last night's was Hawaiian Pirates/chocolate fondue.
i was decidedly more Hawaiian than pirate, because i couldn't locate my eyepatch, but i did wear a small stack of old VHS tapes on my belt. (video piracy. c'mon people.)

quick question: is there anything more satisfying than lounging in a backyard with 30-40 random people and watching two dudes who are dressed as pirates and screaming like pirates wrestling in a kiddie pool full of dirty party water and empty beer bottles on a late August evening?
answer: yes. hot sex. but that's all.

also: i love how the dress code of a certain downtown drinking establishment dictates that i am not allowed in wearing a camoflage t-shirt, but Alex is allowed in dressed as a fucking pirate.

end of a friend

Bone Jovi is dead.
"what did he die of?" you may ask.
the short answer is that he died because i loved him too much.
see, we had a party here a few weeks ago, and during such an event i'm always concerned that someone's going to knock his bowl over or pour booze in there or tap on the glass really really hard and make him deaf or whatever.
so, to protect him, i put him and his bowl in the bottom cupboard by the kitchen sink. it's dark, but at least no one could bother him.
no one at all.
not even me.
not even to feed him.
out of sight, out of mind.
for two weeks.
am i a bad person?
yes. i most certainly am.
but i'm a bad person with valid excuses.
i've been so terribly distracted lately.
what with the microwave and fridge breaking down, and work, and Project Secret Radio, and those parties, and you people always clamoring for more more more.
the bottom line is he's gone and we all have to deal.
do i miss him?
not really. but still.
i want you all to know you played a role in his death.

take your non-themed party and shove it

hot damn.
that was without a doubt the sexiest, drunkiest cowboy/cowgirl/gangster themed party of the season.
proof again that all you have to do is throw some fun hats into the equation to make the night a memorable one.
it's too bad the coppers had to bust it up so early.
but, as Churchill said, "it's all good."
i needed a reason to drink in the park anyway.
(has anyone seen my cap gun?)

steakermeister!

Mr. Chad and i have theorized a way to make food more fun, more delicious, and more dangerous, all at the same time.
think Jagermeister.
but don't think of Jagermeister as just a time-bending, memory-eroding, logic-devouring liquor.
think of it as a tasty marinade.
i believe that Jager's unique, 56 herb-infused flavor would lend itself well to many dishes.
like wild salmon with carmelized Jager sauce.
ginger and Jager chicken (with lemon!)
Jagerberry sherbet.
fettuccine Jagfredo.
the list goes on.
so be creative. be adventurous.
impregnate your gut-sack with my dirty little Jager-babies.

tiny lightning

so there i am, heating up my hour-old coffee in the microwave before trotting up to work, when i hear an odd 'buzzing' sound.
it wasn't quite a 'waspy' buzz or a 'someone mowing their lawn down the street' buzz...it was a little off.
while i was mentally investigating this audio mystery my eye picked up some wild flashing in the peripheral feild, which seemed to be coming from my once trusted microwave.
so i flicked off the kitchen light, and sure enough, there was a tiny lightning storm pouring out from the bottom part of the microwave door and onto the counter.
i've seen lightning 'inside' the microwave many times, like when i put CD's in there, but seeing it escape the confines of the appliance is a bit unsettling.
this microwave is only four years old, and i find it bizarre that it suddeny decided to release random bursts of energy.
there must be a breach in the door mechanism.
when i finally opened it there were scorch marks and the distinct smell of burning equipment.
this did not affect the taste of my coffee.

simple music for complicated people

here is the new as-yet-untitled summer project:
make a series of mixtapes and scatter them in completely random places throughout the city. places like park benches, under chairs in coffee shops, next to trees, taped to dogs, by the sink in the ladies washroom, etc., etc.
each tape will have a different cover and contain an email address scrawled somewhere inside for tracking purposes. each tape will also contain a small note that will read something like: "take me home, listen to me. if you like me, keep me. make copies for your friends and lovers. play me at parties and in your car. if you don't like me, please put me back on the street for someone else to find."
the tapes will not, however, contain a tracklist of the songs within. by doing this people will actually have to listen to the whole tape to find out exactly what's on it. if they do want the tracklist all they have to do is send a quick email, and said list will be soon forthcoming.
my goals are to see how far these tapes can actually travel, how many copies will be made and how many people actually get to hear them and hopefully enjoy them.
the first trial tapes are nearly completed and will be distributed over the coming weekend.
my greatest hope is that people enjoy the tapes so much and on so many levels that they keep them close, like on their bedside table. then, hopefully, the tiny cameras inserted inside each tape will be able to film people having sex.

really bad names for restaurants

-GlandBurger
-The Midnight Nibbler
-SpazzyCakes!
-Entrails 'n' Such
-Mug Runchers (lesbian coffee)
-Wang's Glistening Mystery Morsels
-Sloppy McDroolie's Steakatorium
-Boston Pizza
-Christopher Wokn's
-The Afterbirth Cafe

the "list" list (short version)

a brief summary of the things i not only hope to, but will accomplish, before the end of my twenty-fifth year. watch me.

-be ordained "All-Time World Champ" of Mega Man 2.

-to have a monkey.
not as a pet, but as a friend.

-walk down a beautiful, patio-lined street on a beautiful late summer/early autumn afternoon. when i look up i realize that the most beautiful woman who ever lived is walking towards me. just as our eyes meet and she begins to smile, she trips over a dog's leash and scrapes her knee on the sidewalk. i immediately get her to her feet and help her to a seat at the small Europeanish cafe we happen to be in front of. i ask the waiter for a cold glass of ice water, a clean cloth and a small bandage. as i quietly tend to her wound, gently dabbing the blood from the ugly breach in her perfect milky skin, she is suddenly overcome with emotion. a tiny gasp passes her supple, perfectly formed lips as she comes to the powerful realization that she will love me, physically and spiritually, for the rest of her days. when i'm finished applying the bandage i say, "there. all patched up. my name is Mike." to which she'll reply; her birdsong voice trembling with absolute joy; "i'm Persephone."

-win a major award at a major ceremony (for whatever). the crowds' applause is deafening because they realize just how much i deserve this award (for whatever). when i reach the podium to make my speech i will say one of two things. i will either say A) "i thank you all. we're golden. we're all golden. let's party." the moment after i say this Journey's 'Any Way You Want It' will blast through the stadium's speaker system and liquor will be distributed freely.
or i will say B) "i only thank Batman."

-when crossing the street i realize a large bus is is about to slam into my body, thus crushing it throughly. at the very last second i do a perfectly timed backflip, landing in the back of a passing pickup truck, making it in only by inches. i then pounce out of the moving truck, grab onto a nearby lamppost, swing around it a couple of times, letting go at exactly the right second for me to launch myself back across the busy street and land comfortably in an empty seat at a table full of highly trained ninjas, who proceed to give me a standing ovation.

-wake up with a mouthful of gold teeth.