Blue October is the worst band ever.

Blue October was on Conan last night.* I was flipping channels and didn't catch the part where Conan announces the group name, so at first I didn't know who it was. Also, I'd never heard the song or seen the band before. About 15 seconds in, I thought, "wow, this band is really awful." Then I realized the awfulness had a familiar quality to it. Lyrics that sound as if they'd been written by an emo 15-year-old who believes "nobody understands him" because he is "wise" and "poetic" and an "old soul"? A chorus that uses a progression of maybe three notes (repeat 4x)? Use of the harmonic fifth by the background vocalist? Whiny, nasal delivery by lead singer, complete with poseur-riffic head twitching (because he's feeling. the. MUSIC.)?

Sure enough, it was them. I don't know why I felt vindicated, but I did.

*I know I said in a previous post that I don't have time to watch Conan anymore, but impending failure and doom will make you do crazy things like watch TV when you ought to be studying instead.

AUSTIN SHOE HOSPITAL SUCKS

The one on Windsor and Exposition, that is. Took a bag in to get the strap shortened and this is what I got:

No, I didn't pay for the "repair," but neither was I compensated for the diminution in value of the bag or the cost of restoring it. Jerks. I want the benefit of my bargain, dammit.

On being pandered to

I really hate that Hummer commercial where the guy is like, "I customized my Hummer so that it can drive underwater!" (I hate all Hummer commercials, but this one particularly irks me.) As he drives off the pier and into the water, the words "Do not attempt" appear at the bottom of the screen. Really? Is that really necessary?* If you're stupid enough to drive your Hummer off a pier and think it will do anything but sink straight to the bottom of the ocean, you deserve what you get.

Peyton Manning, however, can make as many commercials as he wants. Yes, his audibling is a little spastic (it doesn't bother me but K finds it incredibly annoying), but the man is hilarious. During last night's SNL, I laughed so hard I cried. And it's not just because I'm easy that way.

*I mean, okay, legally speaking it's probably necessary because there's some meathead out there who would actually try this stunt and then sue the manufacturer (or his survivors would sue the manufacturer, since he would probably drown. Yay for natural selection.)Conntributory negligence would probably sink the case, though, so I don't know what Hummer's so worried about.

people = assholes

Dear idiots who are playing a live concert in the backyard of the house across the street:

Some advice. From what I've heard so far, I assume you are playing here because you couldn't get a real gig on 6th street. It is true some excellent bands toil in obscurity their entire existences. Don't delude yourselves. You aren't one of them. Quit now. Sell your instruments, preferably with some sort of agreement never to play again. And remember: groupies may come and go, but herpes, like diamonds, are forever.

But you--being self-absorbed and delusional--probably won't heed my oh-so-sage words of wisdom, so I'll just have to hope the police give you tickets for 1) violating the noise ordinance and 2) believing power chords and guitar feedback are the best way to end every song in your "repertoire."

Oh. And your bassist = sucks. More than the rest of you, from what I can tell.

XOXO,
SP

on prescience

Scene 1. DAY. A classroom at the Law School right before class starts. STUDENTS are milling about, settling into their seats, taking out their laptops and pocket Constitutions. S walks in and goes to her desk, placing her backpack on the table.

B: Yarrrrrrrrrr!!! (Runs by and grabs backpack from S. It is a running joke that he steals something from her desk every time he passes by.)

S: That's it! I'm throwing down the gauntlet!

B: Whatever, would that gauntlet be like...this big? (Holds up hands about three inches apart.)

S: (In a British accent) I'll bite yer legs off!

(B, having gone to his desk, does not hear, but Prof. B does. He turns around and gives S a strange look.)

S's NEIGHBOR: We are totally getting called on.

Scene 2: 20 MINUTES LATER

S: (on IM) C. I really have to pee.

C: (on IM) You better get up and go now, before he looks up and calls on you.

S: (on IM) Yeah, I think I will--

Prof. B: (looks down at the seating chart on the podium, then back up.) Miss...P?

S: (inwardly) #@!(*^%!$!)$">#@!(*^%!$!)$(*@!

(Fade to black.)

NARRATOR: Let this be a lesson to you, kids. Don't quote Monty Python in class.