Tuesday, December 12, 2017

DIAL B FOR BIRDER, EPISODE 1





Thomas and I, along with my good friend Engineer Miles, have started a podcast about birding.
That's supposed to be the topic of this website, too, as you might recall, but I've let it devolve into shameless, mind-numbing lists as of late (what is this, every other website?!) and the birding has taken a back seat. 

Now, thanks to this podcast, it's back in the front seat.
One thing I learned about hobbies this year is that the only way to stick with them is to do them with friends. Look at how Vancouver Boys Book Club got us all reading two books a month, for example.  (UPDATE: I finally finished ANNA KARENINA yesterday.) This podcast, originally titled BIRDS WITH FRIENDS, is like Vancouver Boys Book Club for birds.
We had to record some of it on Thomas's iPhone, and scheduling has been an obstacle (this thing's got more moving parts than an 800 page novel about love!) but I can tell we're onto something good. In any case it's nice to be recording out in the woods, instead of a tiny kitchen filled with Thomas's science homework.  

Here are some pictures from our expedition: 


Pileated woodpecker
























The majestic banana slug.


























Sparrows.


















See you next time, birders! 

UPDATE: If you, like Thomas, are enamored by the idea of a bird with a human penis, check out these posts by the internet's best website, liartownusa.tumblr.com

Friday, December 1, 2017

2017 CONCERT ROUNDUP


I decided to knock this out early, to avoid the rush.

The New Pornographers at the Wonder Ballroom in Portland - 4/16 (Easter!)
I was pretty full of Easter Ham for this, and the opening band made me ashamed to be part of the white race, but it was an outstanding show. Part-time band member Dan Bejar, who has a really annoying voice, was missing, and in his place was a good-voiced, attractive violinist. Good switcheroo, New Pornographers! Dan Bejar's style is not conducive to the type of New Pornographers songs I like. His songs make me feel like I'm lying facedown at the bottom of a pool with a suit on (maybe Thomas would like him! Ha ha), and my favorite New Pornographers songs make me feel like I'm diving into the water to save that guy. Visually, I remember this concert being very blue.  
Devin The Dude at Whirled Pies in Eugene - 5/5 (Cinco De Mayo!)
This show reinforced my affection for holiday concerts and the city of Eugene. J-Bird and I had both been listening to ACOUSTIC LEVITATION a lot leading up to it, so we were way more prepared than everyone else, and that was a good, superior feeling.  J-Bird said something funny to Devin that I can't remember and I yelled "TOP FIVE ALL-TIME RAPPER," which is an annoying thing to yell, but also true. I think he heard me. (My voice carries pretty well.) After the concert, we got pizza and heard some hippie say the N-word. I fell asleep with a candy bar in my pocket and it fused together with my lighter.
Aimee Mann at Revolution Hall in Portland -  5/10
I told everyone that I won tickets to this concert, because it was "off-brand" for me, but I actually bought the tickets myself on a whim. I got cold feet before going and tried to give the tickets away to my friend Nora, but she didn't respond to my text messages in time. (Classic Nora!) I ended up going with Glasses Brandon and enjoying the concert a lot. Aimee Mann is tight. Fuck brands!
DJ Premier at the Star Theater in Portland - 6/3
This ended up being a disappointment, concert-wise, but I felt extremely chill and carefree the whole time because I went to a happy ending massage parlor earlier that day. (Don't judge me! It was RIGHT across the street from my house, and I held out for like 6 months.) This was also the day I heckled Ronald McDonald at a parade, and hurt his feelings. Good day, overall! I was hitting it off with a good-looking hipster girl on the balcony, but I laid it on too thick with the wisecracks and eventually she realized I had no substance and left. (Whoa, maybe I was the hipster.) After the show J-Bird and I took dabs in some couple's car and J-Bird weirded them out a little by asking too many sexual questions.  
Future, Young Thug and A$AP Ferg at Sunlight Supply Amphitheater in Ridgefield - 6/11
I completely blacked out.  
Ween at Les Schwab Amphitheater in Bend - 7/1
This was the concert that turned J-Bird into a Ween "super-fan." They played THE MOLLUSK all the way through for the first time ever, and Deaner altered the lyrics of "The Blarney Stone" to reference the bed bugs he'd gotten in Reno the night before. I was wearing my bright orange mood-altering sunglasses (for virility!), so this was a very orange concert for me. The next day, I left the sunglasses at a diner.
Some Led Zeppelin Cover Band at J-Bird's Friend's Farm - 7/20
I haven't listened to Led Zeppelin since I was 14, but the farm was really cool and the pork they served was delicious. After the concert I passed out in a chair and everyone else stayed up smoking DMT.
DJ Quik and Scarface at the Crystal Ballroom in Portland - 8/11
TOP FIVE ALL-TIME RAPPERS!!! Ha ha. This started out as a great concert--DJ Quik is still a lovable, candid bro's bro and Scarface is still very intense and loves playing "Wish You Were Here" on guitar--but it ended prematurely because of an alleged gunshot. Booooo!!!! I cowered under a folding table like a pro.   
Thundercat at the Slowdown in Omaha- 9/16
This was in the middle of my "finding myself" vacation to Omaha, and there was a big thunderstorm outside, but I still didn't find myself. Thundercat is a great bass player, and a cool guy, but I can't get into his music. It's not rousing enough!!!!
Juiceboxxx at American Legion Hall #134 in Portland - 9/23
This concert was so inspiring I wrote Juiceboxxx a letter about it. My friends didn't like it as much.
Ween at the Masonic in San Francisco - 9/27 and 9/28
J-bird and I had to drive all the way from The Couve to San Francisco the day of the first show, because we got the dates mixed up. Pretty impressive, huh? These shows weren't as good as the Bend shows, but they played a lot of songs I hadn't heard live before. (Do you want to know which songs they were? No??) My dad watched the second show from the balcony and gave it the thumbs up.  
The Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival at Golden Gate Park in San Francisco - 10/7 and 10/8
I was pretty sober for this, and didn't see as much high-speed fiddlin' as I wanted to, and the t-shirt I bought was too small and the weed/vitamin chocolate I bought from a barefoot hippie girl tasted like frozen pencil eraser, but none of that stopped me from having a toe-tappin' good time. 90% of the people who read this website were there.
Rebirth Brass Band at The Sweetwater in Mill Valley - 11/17
I had 2 extra tickets for this concert, because my parents cancelled, and I wound up giving them to a "Valley Boy" friend of mine and his GF, because I couldn't find two girls who would go on a date with me at the same time. The band played that infectious tuba beat they sample in "Gangster Walk" (and probably 10,000 other songs) which had me doing my "Spiderman climbing up a wall" dance like it was going out of style. (Don't worry, it's not going out of style.) Then they played "When The Saints Go Marching In", for the first time in their 30+ year history.

That's all for now, fans. See you in a month, for the Winter Holiday Concert Round-Up.

Tuesday, November 28, 2017

MY FACEBOOK ACCOUNT'S GREATEST HITS


I did it, folks. I finally made it through all 9 and 1/2 hours of Claude Lanzmann’s landmark Holocaust documentary SHOAH. But somehow, I don’t feel as good as I thought I would.


Good wine, lively conversation, a home-cooked meal with friends...don't let these things distract you from winning at charades.


Which aspect of “The Big Rock Candy Mountain” is most appealing to you? For me, it’s gotta be that lake of stew. MMMMmm!!



Just wanted to remind everyone to step it up. Your Facebook updates aren’t very good!!!! In fact, if I was judging you by your Facebook posts, I would hate you. Your posts are 10 times worse than the worst book I’ve ever read. (This is mainly directed at Glasses Brandon.)



(To the tune of “One”)
♪ X is the sexiest letter in the alphabets /
 Q is not as hot as X, but in fact it looks a little more like sex.


My friend’s so into 90’s rap, he has a page-a-day PHARCYDE calendar!



(To the tune of “Cherry Pie”)
♪ Squeeze my hairy thighs / Full time squatter and this here’s why
Feels so good that I must describe /my sweet, hairy thighs


"Girls...they look like squirrels....they're always resting...on their laurels."
-JJ, last Freestyle Friday.


a WINDOW is the best painting, man. It's the best piece of artwork you could possibly have.


RUMINATIONS ON TEA
Nothing delights me
Quite like an iced tea
But I will settle
For tea from a kettle




On my list of favorite rappers, Fred Durst is dead first.


(To the tune of “Israelites”)
Get up in the morning, shake out his dreads, yeah
In de Camry, puts on Grateful Dead
Oh, oooooh, delivery guy



(To the tune of “Closing Time”)
  Smoking fine
It’s your choice to kill yourself but I won’t let you do it here
Smoking fine
Just be like the rest of us and live in fear
I know where I want for you to smoke
I know where I want for you to smoke
I know where I want for your to smoke, and not smoke

Happy TBT, fans! Here's an old flip phone picture of the time I met Anne Perry, aka Juliet Hulme of the Parker/Hulme murder case. You could've bludgeoned the sexual tension in the air with a brick!





"The key to a funny joke is the element of surprise."  
-2pac

Tuesday, November 21, 2017

MY FAVORITE UNHELPFUL COMMENTS

“Boy, that thing does NOT wanna come out!"
[*Tugging my collar*]: “Yikes.”
“At least now you know to sign up for AAA.”
“Maybe there’s a time machine sitting around somewhere.”
“Well, THIS is certainly less than optimal.”
“Maybe we should try giving up!” 

“I am NOT looking forward to this.”
"I'm gonna die a virgin, and it's all your fault!!!" 
[*Brandishing a fake rubber hand*]: "Need a hand?"
[*Tugging my collar*]
: “Hoo, boy.”

Sunday, November 19, 2017

PROBLEMS WITH GIRLS


 
Do you spend a lot of time thinking about the opposite sex, fans? I know I do. I think about girls every goddamn day, it feels like. I guess I'm a romantic at heart.
Unfortunately, the girls I keep falling in love with don't want anything to do with me. They want some fairytale Mr. Perfect, with perfect Hollywood breath and popular, pro-semitic political views, who'll sweep them off their feet and take them away to Perfectville. They see a lone, beat up old wolf like Tesse "The Wolfman" Wolfson and run for the hills. (Watch out for coyotes, girls!) Here's what they're forgetting, though: I have a lot to offer them that this "Mr. Perfect" they're dreaming of can't offer. Do Mr. Perfect's parents have a hot tub? Is he as good at buying CDs as me? You might like the way Mr. Perfect can talk to you for hours, and satisfy your soul with his poetic, thought-provoking words, but I bet I can talk louder than him. If I get lost at the farmers market, or injure myself in the woods, you'll always be able to find me. Just follow the sound of my yell!
These great points I'm making go right over girls' heads. They're so busy dreaming of Mr. Perfect and picking out a slutty dress to wear to prom (my romantic interests tend to be blonde, 18-year-old cheerleaders with huge tits and lots of makeup), they don't even notice the real Mr. Perfect sitting right across from them on the bus, giving them the "finger guns."
It just goes to show you, life isn't always the way they make it seem in the movies. In real life, the wisecracking lone wolf doesn't always get the insanely hot girl. Sometimes, the insanely hot girl ends up with an insanely hot guy instead. (Yuck!)  I don't mean to be a Debbie Downer, but I worry sometimes that I'm going to get so desperate I wind up settling for a plain-faced or slightly overweight girl. Who would want to see THAT movie?
Anyway, if you want to go out on a date, let me know in the comments!!

Thursday, November 16, 2017

SURFING IS LIKE A RELIGION


  • Religion and surfing both pressure you into acting more into it than you actually are.

  • When a religious person or surfer tries to articulate their feelings about it to you, you get the impression that maybe they aren't the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree.

  • Religious people and surfers both hate sea kayakers. (In that sense, they're a lot like the rest of us.)

  • Religious people and surfers both have atrocious taste in bumper stickers. (In that sense, they're a lot like the rest of us!)

  • Most of the suffering in the world was caused by religion or surfing.  

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

[PROMOTED]

My chill old roommate Ben is making funny cooking videos. Subscribe to his YouTube channel if you want to laugh and/or learn how to make Kung Pao Cauliflower Tacos. 

Friday, November 3, 2017

I SOLVED THE ZODIAC MURDERS


"Peek-a-boo, you are doomed."

The most pleased I ever was with myself was in the year 2000, when I went to see BATTLEFIELD EARTH in theaters for a birthday party. Before the movie, there was a preview for MISSION IMPOSSIBLE 2, and right after that there was a preview for THE PERFECT STORM. (Like many years, 2000 was a shitty year for movies.) Just as THE PERFECT STORM preview was drawing to a close, I leaned over to my friend and whispered "FISHIN' IMPOSSIBLE."
That was the moment I first learned I could dunk, comedically. It was an incredible feeling. (Truth be told, I can't even remember that happened in BATTLEFIELD EARTH. I think John Travolta went to a rave, or something.) The universe, in its benevolent wisdom, had tossed me a perfect alley-oop, and I'd slammed it home with the casual self-confidence of a Brent Barry, or a Dan Majerle, demonstrating that I was worthy. Life was going to be easy from now on--all I had to do was kick back and wait for another perfect alley oop.
Unfortunately, though, it  wasn't that easy. Perfect alley-oops are few and far between, it turns out. The universe only gives em to you about once every ten years. In the between time, you have to go back to being a regular schlub. And sometimes when you get an alley-oop, you're unprepared or overexcited, and  you screw it up.
Not yesterday, though. Yesterday, I caught another alley-oop and dunked it home. It wasn't a funny joke-dunk (sorry), but I'd argue that it was even better.
I figured out who the Zodiac Killer was!

Aside from the fact that it was National Deviled Eggs Day, it was an evening like any other.  I woke up from my afternoon nap at 7:00 PM, bit the wine stained part of my upper lip off, and applied lip balm. I'd been having a bad dream. Not my normal bad dream, where a bird is eating my fingers, but a Halloween-themed dream regarding the Zodiac Killer.

I was alone in the house with a big bowl of candy. There was a knock at the door, and when I opened it I saw a babyfaced man, dressed in a trenchcoat, with an executioner's hood on and a decorative bib bearing the mark of the Zodiac Killer.
Scary costume, right? And what is a grown man doing trick-or-treating all by himself? But it was a dream, after all, so I reached into the bowl to get him some candy. He declined, telling me in an eerily high-pitched voice:
"No. I want big boy stuff."
Weird request, obviously, but I wanted him to go away so I gave him a cigarette. He took it, without thanking me, and lit up--then took a gun out of his coat and shot me!
As I was falling to the ground, my mother showed up out of nowhere, let out a dramatic gasp, and said THE ZODIAC KILLER IS....THE ZODIAC KILLER IS...
And then I woke up! Crazy right?

I felt like I should mention this nightmare in my dream journal, but I didn't want to write the whole thing down, because I'm lazy, so I just wrote



in big creepy block letters. Maybe my dream holds the answer somehow I thought.
And right then, my mother knocked on the door, asking if I wanted to play bananagrams. I did, obviously, but just as I was about to say yeah, sure,  of course, it occurred to me that maybe this dream message was an ANAgram !!! We all know how much the Zodiac Killer loved puzzles. So I told my mom to fuck off, I'm busy right now, and cut the block letters out of my dream journal with scissors, for rearranging.
I scrambled and scrambled and scrambled, and after half an hour of furious scrambling, listening to John Carpenter's "White Pulse" on repeat, I had the answer. A message, from the Zodiac Killer, via the realm of nightmares: THE ZODIAC KILLER IS...

Can you tell that I cut the previous message up and rearranged the letters to make this message? I'm concerned that I didn't set the contrast high enough when I did the scan.


Of course, right?!! It was three lil kids stacked on top of each other, in a trench coat! That explains why The Zodiac Killer mysteriously stopped killing (he grew out of it!) and why the spelling in his letters to The Chronicle was so shitty!

Ok, ok. Maybe it wasn't a slam dunk.  
Have a good weekend!!!