If You Don’t Have Anything Nice to Say.
April 24, 2008
I’ve been wallowing for a day. Bank of America, apparently unaware I have a special lady friend coming into town this weekend, has decided to put a big-brotherly hold on my money, until well after the aforementioned special lady friend departs. The game this weekend is called: “LA in Under $140.” It should be interesting. And before you suggest the Getty is free, parking is $50.
I’m not sure I even have any recourse. But I’m going to yell at someone at the bank anyway, even if only to make myself feel a bit better. A producer friend just finished mixing a new Class Project song, so I will post it here. It’s called Misery’s Company…
Feel free to right-click the link, and download the mp3, otherwise, it’ll just play out of your browser.
TV and Hookers.
March 19, 2008
To make a long story short, Zona’ beat Oregon State by thirty, demonstrated less than adequate mediocrity in the subsequent Stanford game, and landed themselves a first round game against the sons of coal minors.
My first post was a test in linking and line breaks. As it turns out, in the world of HTML programming, creating a new paragraph requires “< / br> ” to be placed in the code. I’ve long fancied myself something of a computer man, but this is further than I like to travel in the name of new paragraph.
I didn’t want to start writing until I had something to report. I have been here for twelve days and have one thing to report: April 4th, Class Project opens for Pigeon John at the Knitting Factory in Hollywood. Pigeon John is a personal favorite; I even have an autographed t-shirt.
I watched the 1987 version of Man on Fire and was amazed by how the gritty violence of the 80′s was far better suited for the story than the millennium era digital effects of the remake seventeen years later. Plus, Scott Glenn is way cooler than Denzel Washington. And it takes place in Italy, not Mexico City. Finally, the first line of the 87′ version: And so. That’s how I ended. A stiff in a body bag.
I have been watching too much TV. Something to which the last paragraphs attests, however, is that I have thinking entirely too much about the TV I am watching. I see this as a good sign, that perhaps my rather sedentary lifestyle has not withered my attention-starved brain. My only input until 7:00 PM comes from TV and my trusty Powerbook. And the occasional walk down to the corner Denny’s.
I have been paying close attention to Mr. Spitzer’s situation, mostly because “Kristin” is really, really attractive. She is also quite the accomplished musician, and, as the USA Today actually said, a hooker with a heart of gold. David Brooks wrote something about super-successful Alpha males and under-developed sensitivity. I’m pretty sure he is dead on about Mr. Spitzer. Either way, I bought both of “Kristen’s” songs online.
