Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Questions. I Have Them.

Am I the last idiot in the world who wondered if the Apple start-up sound was a shout-out to the last chord in A Day in the Life?

Monday, July 21, 2014

Thoughts. I Have Them.

Sometimes I wonder if we're in a race to prove H. L. Mencken right about everything.

Doc du Jour

Inside the life of a 52 year-old pizza delivery man. (Thought I recognized the place- it's the old Brooklyn Star)


Worst TV Character of All Time?

I still say it's either Grandma Walton or Kelly Taylor, but here's an interesting case made that Julie Taylor from Friday Night Lights was the worst tv character of all time.

Lighten the Fuck Up, Harper Lee

Today is Harper Lee's 85th birthday, and while she's famous for being a recluse, not having given a public interview in 45 years (even staying away from THIS GUY!), I hope she realizes that at 85 there's not a lot of time left and really needs to get moving if she and John Grisham are ever gonna get together and give us A Time to Kill a Mockingbird. - XMASTIME
Vulture on the decline of Harper Lee:
It wasn’t just infirmity that kept Nelle from basking in those 2010 celebrations; it was disillusion. Allergic to both attention and commerce, she’d always found the Mockingbird-industrial complex tacky and intrusive, but had managed to carve out a separate existence in its shadow. Now, too many “well wishers” were stopping by her new apartment—including her literary agent, whom she eventually barred from the facility. 
I've never read anything other than Lee has always been a needlessly freakishly-reclusive person who greatly resented people for appreciating her (one) work - she reminds me of this about George Harrison:
Finally, the film really never investigates the real mystery of Harrison: What was he so morose about?...Harrison... has always had a sense of the aggrieved about him. I just don't know what the source of it was. In Harrison's mini-autobiography at the front of I Me Mine, the unasked-for collection of his song lyrics, he seems mostly unhappy about … the travel indignities he suffered during the Beatles years.
In other words, lighten the fuck up, Harper.

YES!!!!

They're making a movie about Marco Pierre White!!!! Based on his memoir:
White's memoir tells the story about his "tumultuous childhood upbringing" before he became a superstar chef in London in the 1980s. Deadline notes that white was the youngest chef to win three Michelin stars and that he was also the first person to give them all back. Prominent chefs like Mario Batali and Gordon Ramsay (who White had a major falling out with) have all trained under the British chef.
You KNOW I loves this shit!

And please tell me Tom Hardy is playing him.

Sunday, July 20, 2014

18 Years Ago Today

Happy Anniversary Rrthur (YES, ladies, THAT Rrthur!!!!!)

via HERE:
2) Wedding B (summer 1996, Connecticut) - sorry ladies, this was RRTHUR's wedding. Some highlights here. Almost got into a fight with a whole band after telling one of their wives to "shut the fuck up." They were nice enough to document the night with some flattering photos of me on the floor of the hotel hallway, naked and with their balls in the general vicinitiy of my face. Nice.

Of course, that wasn't even the highlight of this wedding. After, oh, 7000 beers the night before the wedding Xmastime starts recieving amorous attention from Sheena Baughn (name changed to protect the old, withered, sexless and GUILTY!!!) You should know that Mrs. Baughn was a) recently widowed b) next door neighbors to RRTHUR'S parents c) oh, I'd say about 65 years old. Did this matter to our guy Xmastime? Nah. tongues down each others' throats like the plane was going down. Hands all over each other. Hey, it was a woman - I believe it was Thomas Jefferson who said "beauty is only a light switch away." Anyways, somehow I got out of actually sleeping with her, but you can imagine the horror the next morning of running into her, then explaing to RRTHUR's parents that on the eve of their son's wedding night I hooked up with their neighbor 40 years my senior. Between the fright of that PLUS spending the weekend crying and whining about my first love being there (high school gf, NOT Sheena Baughn!) that wedding day was pretty traumatic. WEDDINGS 2, XMASTIME 0

ps - fast forward 2 years. I had moved to NYC, and RRTHUR and MRS. RRTHUR (sorry ladies!) went down home to visit, and ended up at a barn dance. No, that doesn't mean I danced with a barn. So we get there and BAM! there's Sheena Baughn, dancing away. Oh, shit. I immediatly decide "This might be a good night to NOT drink 100 beers. Or one drop. Or smell booze from someone talking." Total precautions were taken - I avoided her all night, spent most of the time talking to my old jv football coach Charlie Futchko who, what with his creamy-white doughy body, 70's porn mustashe, collection of skintight coach's shorts and inability to say the letter "r" "Gwegowy!! dwop your dwawers!!" deserves his own Xmastime post. But anyways I made it through the whole night without running into her, and as we're getting ready to load up to go home I breathe a sigh of relief when...an old, withered, senior citizen hand that was pumping equals parts feral sexuality and Ben-Gay landed on my shoulder and sent ripples through my young body not seen since I almost got caught beating off as a kid (by Mr. Futchko…4 times. I mean caught BY Mr. Futchko, not that he was beating me off…where was I...oh yeah, about to hit some skins with an old lady). I turn with dread to a beaming smile “Do I get a dance?” she asked. Why not? I thought, you already took away my ability to sleep with the lights off. My brain was racing – I knew if I just ran off to the car, word would get back to RRTHUR’s parents (no ladies, he wasn’t merely sent down from angels!) that I acted like a jerk. I quickly ingested the upcoming song – it was midtempo, meaning I didn’t have to fast dance, and I didn’t have to rub up all over her wrinkled-up groins either. I mumbled okay, we hit the dance floor and I started counting down the seconds that I knew were left in the song. So we’re bopping along, “dancing”, and then she says “You’re a good dancer.” I mumble somehting like “thanks” and BAM!!!!!!! She yanks me close, pulling me right up to her and says “what else are you good at?” POOOOOINGGG!!! I was sitting in the mini-van screaming at everyone to load in and got the fuck out of there tout suite.

Footnote:
POSSIBLE ANSWERS SHE WAS LOOKING FOR FROM ME WHEN SHE ASKED “WHAT ELSE ARE YOU GOOD AT?”

a) “Cunnilingus”
b) “Sitz baths”
c) “Being a stepdaddy to people older than myself”
d) “Fuckin old ladies on hay bales”
e) “Analingus”

Happy 45th Anniversary

Every photo taken during Apollo 11 HERE.

Slice du Jour


Friday, July 18, 2014

"Oh, you'd like to explain the difference between the national debt and the deficit to us? Please, by all means, go ahead."


WELL, Well, Well...

YESTERDAY:



TODAY:


THE ALL-STAR GAME FUCKING SUCKS

MLB is still searching for solutions to a problem that doesn't exist by tinkering with the All-Star Game. Wow! Awesome! It's almost perfect guys, don't give up!! Well, except for the fact that nobody fucking gives two shits about it, and the idea that the winner determines the home field advantage in the World Series is beyond asinine. The only people who care about this game are Bud Selig and the company that prints up all the fucking ballots.

Quit trying to make the All-Star game "mean something," and just get fucking rid of it. Have three days of those sausage races, that would be less destructive to the game. - XMASTIME

That is, of course, fucking insane - teams play 162 games over 6 months so that if they make it to the most important games of their lives, they're controlled by a fucking mid-season exhibition game in which the players who are chosen by the fans hope to get out of the game as soon as possible so they can clown around?  Or leave?  What the fuck.  You may win 83 games, to my 110, but if in a pretend game 4 months ago someone on your All-Star game hit the gw-rbi against some shitty relieveer who was only there because every team has to be repesented and then everybody is supposed to play? Fucking absurd.  Oh, and the pitcher who leads the majors in wins isn't even playing this year, therein crippling my team that much more? - XMASTIME
Everyone’s making a big deal of Wainwright possibly grooving one in for Jeter in the All-Star game. Which is, as always, the least inane part of the whole thing. The idea that Wainright grooved one in for Jeter during a should-be meaningless exhibition game isn’t inane; the idea that the single most important games of the season and October are affected by it in a huge way is inane. Just like Ripken’s good-bye dinger years ago, these moments are exactly what these games are fucking for. Fans paying tribute to players who have had such a huge impact on the game and saying goodbye, or the country being introduced to the next generaton. That’s it. Fucking hell.

Thursday, July 17, 2014

Pic du Jour

Here's the cover if I ever record another record, entitled "Uh huh...yep...and then what happened?...you don't say...so, ahhhhh...tell us more about this 'third phase index planning system'..."

Whats a 6-Letter Word For "Hey, Remember When I Used to Give a Shit About Coming Up with Snappy Headlines?"

Over at Sully we read about apps being the future of crossword puzzles:
But apps are the future of crosswords, and puzzle aficionados realize this. According to a Pew report, tablet usage has spiked among those over 65, with 27 percent of senior citizens owning a device; only 18 percent of seniors own a smartphone.
Which is unfathomable to me. As i wrote years ago:
I don't know if I love doing the Daily News crossword puzzles every day for the sake of doing them or because I really, really love the way my pen sinks into that weirdly soft paper. Can you buy blank paper like that to write on?  Hmm.
And then of course there's the original Xmastime crossword puzzle. Enjoy!

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

HOLY CRAP!

Worlds colliding: Tommy Ramone, who produced The Replacements' Tim, playing their early classic, If Only You Were Lonely.

Mukluks: The Gnat


Last Time All-Star

Derek Jeter just tied Lou Gehrig's career hits record for the Yankees. I wonder how many I've seen, watching games on tv. I'd be surprised if it was lower than 2,200, 2,300. As an A-Rod apologist I get (foolishly) frustrated by Jeter devotion, but when he retires I'm gonna cry my eyes out; my Yankee fandom has mirrored his career.  - XMASTIME
There's a lot of great Derek Jeter All-Star Game video I'm sure I'll be posting later on, but one thing I don't remember from the 1999 All-Star Game in Fenway is this:
Jeter entered the game mid-inning so Red Sox fans could cheer Nomar Garciaparra, then did an impression of Garciaparra's mannerisms at the plate.

This is a cow that went to South Africa, got attacked by a monkey but made it back alive and doesn't think he's particularly interested in taking crap from anybody anymore.

Monday, July 14, 2014

The Ramones

Moi ICI:

No one was better at covers than the Ramones. The first time I tried to get permission to go to a Ramones show, my parents, who had been born in 1576, said "hellz no." A few days later I brought my mother a cassette I had made of all the old songs The Ramones had covered, including Let's Dance, California Sun, Do You Wanna Dance, Needles & Pins, Baby I Love You, Little Bit of Soul, Indian Giver and Palisades Park. This led to my mother thinking "oh, it's an oldies group, great!" and allowing me to go.

Ha!

Oh, For Chrissake

I'm not made of stone, people.

More Tommy Ramone

In a tribute from some guy from They Might Be Giants:
The influence of the Ramones is certainly musical—as much about reintroducing the charm of a short song as the power of a barre chord—but it goes far beyond music. A Ramones song cannot be unheard. The Ramones changed the pH balance of rock music’s pond water. Their existence challenged everyone else’s. They’re not part of a school. They built the building
The summer's out. And I want some.

MORE Happy Bastille Day


Happy Bastille Day!

Nobody could remotely give two shits Some people have been clamoring for last year's brilliant THINGS TO LIKE ABOUT FRANCE series that I posted throughout last Bastille Day, so here they are:
The Uniforms

Ratatouille

Winning Our Revolutionary War

Remembrance of Things Past

First Lady

French Class

Croissants

Buzzed

Holy crap, Buzz Aldrin was answering questions on Reddit this past week. One of them was how they chose who stepped on the moon first:
I felt that there was an obligation on my part to put forth the reasons why a commander who had been burdened down with an enormous amount of responsibility and training for activities (and because of that, in all previous missions, if someone, a crew member, was to spacewalk, it was always the junior person, not the space commander who would stay inside). We knew this would be different because 2 people would be going out. There was a group at NASA who felt the junior person (me) should go out first, but many people felt the great symbology of the commander from past expeditions or arrivals at a destination. The decision that was made was absolutely correct as far as who went out first, symbolically. However who was in charge of the what happened after both people are outside, I believe, could have been done differently. I was not the commander, I was a junior person, so once both were outside, I followed my leader, because we (NASA) had not put together detailed jobs of people outside. I believe it could have been improved. But it was very successful for what it was. And the decision wasn't up to me, or Neil, it was up to people much higher up in NASA. 
I'm still miffed he didn't try this:
5) If you had been Buzz Aldrin on Apollo 11, wouldn’t you at least have thought about shoving Neil Armstrong aside and being the first man on the moon? I’ve read a lot about how he always resented Armstrong stepping on the moon first, him being the Commander of the flight. Hey, asshole – there was NO ONE ELSE ON THAT WHOLE WORLD!!! Who coulda stopped you? Let’s see: shove Armstrong aside and be known as the first man to set foot on another world, or as the guy named after the sound a vibrator makes. Tough one.