Celebrity Sighting!

I'm a jerk. Aesop Dekker came into the store today. You know how there are dudes out there that you think are really cool, and you wished you were friends with them? Well, Aesop Dekker is one of those kinds of dudes that I wish I was friends with. In case you don't know who Aesop Dekker is, he plays/played drums in some really great bands: Ludicra, Hickey, and currently Agalloch (which I have gushed over before on this blog.) He also has a really cool blog that he post hard-to-find/out-of-print music on and usually has great write-ups on them. I you haven't checked it out before, it's called Cosmic Hearse. He hasn't posted anything since June so maybe he's done with it. (Dammit, I shoulda asked.) Anyway, he and a cute hesher chick came in and met a friend. They shopped for records for a bit then came up to the register. I rang his friends up, first. I then asked him if he was who I thought he was. (gotta make sure about these things.) He said yes. So I said "You get a discount." He picked up an Earth record and I can't remember exactly what else. So I hooked him up, then turned to his friends and said, "I woulda hooked you guys up, too, if you had a cool blog like his!" They kinda laughed, but man. That really was kind of a crappy thing to say. I'm a jerk. So, Aesop Dekker, if you ever happen to stumble across this digital rag that Bug and I make, I apologize for being mean to your friends. Thank you for shopping in my store. I hope you will continue with "The Hearse" sometime soon, because I'm getting tired of seeing Vanderbeek's face everyday when I visit. Sorry for the long post. (LC)

Threes

You know how they say things come in threes? I think they are on to something because whenever I go to Wendy's. I always get three Jr Cheeseburgers. (Bug)

3 thoughts

Completely separate from each other: 1. Young people tell every story because every story matters. Old people only tell the stories that matter. 2. Nostalgia is when you play an old song and like it after you recognize the old song really sucks. 3. I really like strawberry milkshakes. the fruit chunks get stuck in the straw, though, which makes me have to suck harder. I don't like that. I usually order a chocolate or vanilla shake. (LC)

A hunch.

My sister K.P. sells Scentsy. I bet her house smells pretty good. (LC)

An analogy.

The Tiger Shark is the Scotty Pippen of the sea to The Great White Shark's Michael Jordan. Comprende? (LC)

An insight.

Having tattoos used to mean you were tough. Now, having tattoos means you have money for tattoos. (LC)

T.V. show review

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The Internet

I can't lie when I say I have really been missing not having the internet at my house the last few months. Anybody wanna buy a Jeep? (Bug)

Phone guy

Let me get one thing straight. This man is legitimately insane. Most likely Schizophrenia. (What do I know? Well, I'm married to a psychologist. That practically makes me one.) Anyway, this guy spends his day talking on each pay phone in my neighborhood. I'm pretty sure he isn't talking to anyone real because he talks, hangs up, then picks up and talks some more. From what I've caught from the few conversations I've eavesdropped on, he talks about drugs: "LSD, Marijuana, Angel Dust, Vicodin, Cocaine. LSD, Marijuana, Angel Dust, Vicodin, Cocaine. LSD, Marijuana, Angel Dust, Vicodin, Cocaine." Repeat and repeat. When he isn't talking on a payphone, he is usually found walking en route to one...yelling obscenities. Usually one word. okay. I'm going to use some adult language. He only yells "FUCK", and he always sounds really pissed off. Like someone's been messing with him. You know, like someone always sneaking up and giving him a wedgie or something. He walks across the street from our place every day. (K-WY says she saw his wang once as he relieved himself on a telephone pole. Very unsettling, she says.) Anyway, here's the really funny part. While I was at work tonight, K-WY said the phone guy was swearing right on the other side of our fence. Our 3 pugs all ran out into the backyard and went apeshit at him, and he started swearing back at them. I don't know. it just seems like it would be a great moment to catch. Phone guy swearing at the pugs and the pugs barking back at him. With a tall wooden fence separating them. I would probably smile for about 3 minutes if I could witness that for 30 seconds. (LC)

Coincidence or Conspiracy?

One would think the section that gets the messiest at the music store I work at would be music for delinquents. You know, like Heavy Metal, Punk, or Rap. Nope. The Christian/Gospel section gets the messiest...every single day. Go figure. (LC)

Album Review - Motley Crue Dr. Feelgood

I got to start off by saying, what a freaking album. No wonder it sold 18 gajillion copies. So it starts off with a skit, "Terror In Tinseltown" Holy moly, this is already dark. Cars crashing, burning buildings, police. Its a great skit that slams right into the title track. Heavy guitars, dark lyrics about drug abuse and the bad sides of town. "Slice Of Your Pie" comes next and though not a favorite, a pretty juicy track with a Beatles nod to "Shes So Heavy". Rattlesnake Shake is pretty cheesey with its honky tonk horns and piano outro. "Kickstart My Heart" is up next and gets your blood pumping again. Side one closes with "Without You" a pretty good power ballad. Side Two starts with some sweet power pop riffing on "Same Ol Situation", no thats a good song about lame girlfriends, Green Day eat your heart out! "Sticky Sweet" is another chick oriented tune, but a little shall we say more Sticky? HarHar! "She Goes Down" starts off with a zipper opening soundbite. Oh Motley Crue... My favorite track is "Don't Go Away Mad" an awesome power pop jam with great chords and lyrics again about girls. The album ends with another ballad, "Time For Change" is pretty good for a power ballad and uses the oldest trick in the book, the one step key change towards the end to accent the intensity. The album artwork is rad too. (Bug)

My Rock Star Crush.

I love you Kim! xoxo

Elvis Lives!

This guy goes by Elvis. I'm not sure what his real name is, but he's an Elvis impersonator who performs on the street downtown, and that's what everyone calls him. Elvis is kind of a local celeb here in PDX. There's a photo of him hanging up in Voodoo Donuts, he often sings karaoke, and he gets asked to M.C. events occasionally. He took time out of his busy schedule for this photo shoot. Elvis comes in the store now and again looking for karaoke CDs and kids' records from the budget bin. He has a special fondness for H.R. Puffinstuff. When he speaks, he sounds kind of like Scatman Crothers. You know, kind of like a cartoon. Elvis has the worst breath I've ever smelled, his glasses are thick, and if you work where I do he will try to guilt you into cutting him a deal on $.50 records. Elvis is really a very nice guy and part of the character-rich Portland experience. I bet he would let you buy him a sandwich in exchange for a friendly conversation. (LC)

Guest Opinion

"You ever heard the band Candlebox? They suck!" -(Bugs Mom)

The Olympics...

...are an exercise in masochism.  I get sucked into watching the games as much as possible while they're on.  You know, all the life stories that make you choke up and all that crap.  All the drama.  The successes.  The failures.  What people look like from other countries.  Thoughts on body image.  Feeling the need to get in shape.  Eat donuts, brownies, and french fries instead.  The desire to watch every Michael Phelps race to see if he loses. Trying not to look at spoilers for results to events that already happened just so it's exciting when you do watch.  Wondering if Ryan Lochte really is that much of a douche. Really getting into Women's Gymnastics but feeling kind of weirded out by it. Getting into Women's Water Polo and enjoying all the underwater shots of chubby girls treading water.  Cheering for Misty and Kerri to win a 3rd gold.  The neglect on all other responsibilities while the games are on. Forgetting that Syria is killing itself. No Netflix for 2 weeks.  The only break is to catch up on Big Brother.  God Save the Queen.  Diggin' on Jessica Ennis.  Wondering what a 17-year-old does with her/his life after winning a gold medal. Lots of personal reflection on your own life.  Fearing that you peaked at 17, too.  Can't help but feel inferior for your own lack of accomplishments at whatever stage of life you're in. The urge to buy Nike products.  And a subway sandwich.  Loving the underdog and the unassuming. A man with no feet can run really, really fast.  So can a short woman from Jamaica. Watch more and more...It's a full on drug habit.  Then after 2 weeks of assimilation into the t.v. waves...it's over.  You got no choice but to quick cold turkey. And wait another 4 years.  So stupid.  Boycott the Olympics.  Boycott world peace. 'Cause it's never gonna happen...

I'll have to ask K-WY if there's a name for this condition, because I'm feeling it, and it's only halfway over. Damn.  I'm thinking about getting one of those olympic rings tattoos that all the athlete have now.  Sorry for the long post.