Very, very busy today, so let’s get right to it…

Lots of reader "feedback" on two things.

1) My vegetarianism.  It’s only one month, people.  Take it easy.  It’s not a big deal, it’s not for religious reasons – it’s just because people doubted me.  I liked the suggestion from Kim who said I should have an "all-meat April" to balance out my universe.  I have taken this under consideration.
2) The Mother Teresa sex scene.  Look, you had to imagine Paris Hilton as Mother Teresa.  That’s what I did when I wrote that, and it came (ha!) easily.  I’m sorry if it grossed you out, but I encourage you to go over it once again imagining Paris Hilton in the titular (ha!) role.  It will be much easier to deal with then. 

Also, I don’t do the Email of the Week anymore because I’m too lazy, but if I did, this lil’ nugget would take the prize:

What is fingerblasting?  Sorry to bother you.

That’s it – no greeting, no name, no nothing.  This person just wants to know what fingerblasting is.  

While I usually take joy in educating the ignorant, I did not reply to this email, for fear it was written by a twelve year old girl.  But for future reference, all queries of this nature should be directed to the Urban Dictionary, which has an entry for "fingerblasting".

So if you don’t know, now you know. 

********************************

I was out last weekend at a bar and drunk (I know – I did something a little different), when I was in the bathroom peeing and an amazing drunk thought occurred to me: someone has made a fortune off urinal cakes.  There is a CEO somewhere who is worth millions of dollars because he runs a urinal cake company.  This has to be one of the stranger legitimate ways to make a fortune. 

That’s got to be weird for his son at prep school:

Kid 1: "Yeah, my dad’s a doctor in Cedars-Sinai.  What about you guys?"
Kid 2: "Mine is a lawyer at Simpson Thatcher.  Bill?" 
Son of Urinal Cake CEO: "Yeah, uh, my dad’s a urinal cake tycoon.  So there’s that."

Maybe I just shouldn’t drink so much.  Don’t judge me. 

********************************

Just because – look at Jenny Lewis’ boobs.  I don’t know if I’ve mentioned this before, but I’m kind of a boob guy and, I mean, goodness gracious.  I liked Rilo Kiley before, but I like them a LOT more now. 

Does anyone know if Jenny has a boyfriend?  If not, does she like disingenuous, mostly-impotent, self-absorbed bloggers?  I hope so.  I could use a break.   

********************************

I’ve learned something recently: I really like jazz.  There’s only one problem: I don’t know anything about it.  And there’s another problem: I’ve been using colons like a mother fucker lately.

So if there are any jazz aficionados out there, email me some music suggestions.  I really like John Coltrane.  I say this even though I know this is the rock equivalent of saying, "You know, that Jimi Hendrix is a pretty good guitar player."  I like Miles Davis too, but I prefer sax to the trumpet, which I find a little too tinny at times.  Also, "sax" is close to "sex", which is cool. 

I have no preferences between fast and slow jazz, but as you know if you’ve read any of my music suggestions, I have a soft spot for sadness.  I just need something that I can zone out to while writing.  If you can help, please email me and put "Jazz" in the subject line.  Thank you. 

********************************

Six Songs

"Sweet Transvestite"  Rocky Horror Picture Show
I was at a benefit a few weekends ago and they had a live karaoke band.  A guy got up and did this song and it was probably the second best karaoke performance in history (the first, of course, being my performance in the Bahamas).  But this guy rocked it out to a very unlikely song and the entire place was going crazy.  Good stuff, good song. 

"It’s Impossible"  Perry Como
All I want is to slow dance with a girl to this song before 2006 is over.  That’s all.  And methinks I have a less than 20% chance of accomplishing this.  Such is life.

"Sweetest Thing"  David Ryan Harris
This is a new guy and he may not ever make it big.  But there is one thing that is certain: by writing this song, he has assured that for the rest of his life, whenever he is in a room with a guitar and at least one woman, he is going to get laid.  He can take this to the bank.  I want to F him after hearing this song (though really, that’s not saying much).  If you have a make-out mix (as I do), put this song on there IMMEDIATELY.  You guys know I don’t like to use capital letters like that, but I’m trying to stress that I am very serious here.  An incredible song that really moves the ladies.  At least, I’m guessing that it moves the ladies, since I don’t really talk to any ladies.  And I wish I was joking about that.  Oh well.   

"Maybe I’m Amazed (Live)"  Faces
You have not lived until you have heard Rod Stewart’s whiskey-soaked throat belt out one of Paul McCartney’s sweetest songs.  I first got a hold of this song about two weeks ago and every time I’ve masturbated since, I’ve used this song as my soundtrack.  It’s that good. 

"The Slow Descent Into Alcoholism"  The New Pornographers
If I were to make a playlist of the Catchiest Songs Ever, which I think I may do, this would definitely be on there.  The first time you hear it, you’ll tap your foot.  The second time, you’ll tap your foot and maybe nod or rock in your chair a little.  But the third time, you’ll be singing along to that sweet harmony that comes in on the second verse ("Say my/Ever-loosening grip…").  Not to mention it’s about alcohol and is by a band with "Porn" in their name.  Did they write this especially for me?

The only problem is that for as great as the verses are, the last minute and a half of the song sucks.  Why do bands always do this?  I mean, you know the verse is awesome – give us another one, assheads.  Still, I can’t complain.  I also can’t believe this song hasn’t been used in a buddy comedy movie soundtrack.  But whatever.

"One by One"  Billy Bragg & Wilco
Our token "I’m so sad I threw up all over myself and I don’t even care" song.  This is from "Mermaid Avenue", an album with a cool story behind it.  Apparently, folk legend Woody Guthrie had loads of lyrics laying around when he died.  In 1998, Billy Bragg teamed up with Wilco to arrange and put those lyrics to music.  The result?  Incredible stuff. 

Like many high school students who was in love with every girl who looked at him, I used to write lots of long, horrible, maudlin poetry.  It was truly despicable, but the good news is that when I die and it’s discovered people will think I’m a genius (or just really gay).  But anyway, there is a device for helping to write poetry whereby the writer starts each line off with the same words, like "I hate…" or "Once there was…" or whatever.  Then after the poem is finished, you’re supposed to strike those words from each line.  For example:

I hate when it’s hot out
I hate sweating
I hate that smell
I hate when I have the runs

becomes

when it’s hot out
sweating
that smell
when I have the runs

Each line of this song starts with "One by one" and the result is almost suffocating.  If I were a heartbroken sixteen year old girl, I’d post the lyrics on here, but instead I’m a twenty-six year old heartbroken shitdude, so check the lyrics out here.  And just for fun, try reading them without the "One by one…" intro.  A little better than my poem, right? 

********************************

I have jury duty on Monday.  Since I don’t know if I will post tomorrow, I will tell you now that I may not post that day.  Also, I absolutely can not serve on a jury.  I do not have the time, energy, or colonic stamina.  If anyone can help me get out of this, please email me and tell me how.