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Sporadic » 2010 » July

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Archive for July, 2010

Tilly and the wall and the door

Monday, July 26th, 2010

So we just changed floors at work. New floor, new desk, new things

One new thing is a new door. A new door shouldn’t make any difference right? Unfortunately it does. What it’s done is put the same song in my head all day every day.

There’s this band that you should have heard of if you haven’t called Tilly and The Wall. They’re from Omaha and like all those Omaha bands have some loose connection to wunderkind Conor Orbest but that’s not important right now. This is the important thing:

They do not have a drum kit, what they have is one girl that tap dances and two others that stand on top of boxes and kind of stap their feet along with the music. It creates a really interesting percussion section. It’s really good, which is why I say- go pay attention if you haven’t.

So on their first record they have a song called “Bad Education”. I think it was the single, but I’m not sure. I couldn’t find the album track but here it is on letterman:

It starts with this kind of ‘stomp stomp crack’* which is the exact noise that front door makes every time someone comes or goes. Then my brain, being completely trained by years of trying to be funny by connecting one thing to the hopefully illogical next thing as fast as I can, completes the “sentence” by starting the lyric. And like I said, it’s a good song, so then it stays in my head for a while. But I’m used to thinking of more than one song on any given day so it’s weird. I’ve had tilly and the wall and not just tilly and the wall…”Bad Education” in my head non stop for two weeks.

Even when I listen to something else it goes away until I stop listening and then someone leaves. Then it’s back.

I guess there’s worse things, the door could sound like the beginning of a Chicago song**

On another separate but still musical note, if you haven’t heard the band “Lost in the Woods” give them a listen. I heard them on NPR “first listen” and they’re a little weepy but the sound is tremendous- they call themselves “Orchestral Folk” it’s like Neutral Milk Hotel with a little less punk and more strings.

*Note to Nancy Reagan: “Stomp Stomp Crack” way better than “just say no”

** Or a Steve Miller song… or etc

It’s a Spam Lamb

Thursday, July 15th, 2010

So I get forwards from a variety of sources, and those forwards tend to fall into 2 key categories:

1. Dirty/ Bad Jokes, Example:

While a woman is keeping vigil beside her husband’s deathbed, he says to her, “Before I die, I have something to confess to you.”
“Shh, not now,” she replies.
“But I need to tell you: I cheated on you, with your sister and your best friend and your mother and the next door neighbor” he admits.
“Yes, I know,” she replies.
“I need to clear my conscience before I die… ”
“Shh,” she counters. “Just lie back and let the poison work.”

2.  Forwards from republicans about how bad President Obama is, Example:

I do not like this Uncle Sam,
I do not like his health care scam.
I do not like these dirty crooks,
or how they lie and cook the books.
I do not like when Congress steals,
I do not like their secret deals.
I do not like this speaker Nan ,
I do not like this ‘YES WE CAN’
I do not like this spending spree,
I’m smart – I know that nothing’s free,
I do not like your smug replies,
when I complain about your lies.
I do not like this kind of hope.
I do not like it, you BIG Dope.
I do not like it NOPE, NOPE, NOPE!

So I wanted to respond to the republican screed with some of my own poetry:

I wonder if this “poet” knows
That the oil out in the gulf it grows
Not because of the current folks
But because of Bush’s regulation jokes

I also wonder if they see
That most Americans can’t pay the fees
And therefore end up out of luck
When they are health problems struck

I think that those people all lose sight
That these problems didn’t come overnight
Big war debt, and no taxes for the rich
Put the economy in a drainage ditch

Now it’s fun to blame the man
Who inherited the past’s mis-plan
But everyone who’s all complain-y
Might want to check with Bush or Cheney

These are the people in your neighborhood.

Wednesday, July 14th, 2010

I pass 4 people everyday when I walk from my house to the Bart station.

1. Middle aged lady who kinda looks like an ex-girlfriend’s mother. I noticed the resemblance last winter when I saw her in a jacket. She has the same grey puffy jacket that my ex-girlfrind’s mom had. Similar hair color. She’s the first one I notice and the most consistent. Every day. 8:15. Somewhere between 26th and 24th street. I bet she works at the Hospital. She looks nice. I think I should talk to her.

2. African American woman who looks like the girlfriend from the second season of the Fresh Prince. She’s cute in that kind of mid-eighties braids thing. The only thing is that she’s always yelling at someone on her cell phone. Someone that she’s always very angry at. The things that she’s angry about is unclear but she’s very clever in her insults*. I think I should offer her a big glass of warm milk, that usually calms people down right? I always pass her walking down 24th

3. The woman and her hyperactive 5 year old on their way to the Mission children’s center on Bartlett in between 25th and 24th. The kid has just clearly done a solid hit from some kind of high powered meth. He reminds me of if Bucket were a child. He runs 50 feet in front, hides behind something, then jumps out and runs 50 feet behind. All the while he’s yelling something unintelligible. **

4. The gang bangity looking guy who I think works at the liquor store. He’s got the baggy pants. He’s got the oversize white T-Shirt. he’s got the shaved head. Does anyone ever go into the liquor store? Why can he stand outside? Who shops there? Is it s front?

*”why you gotta be so F%^&in’ undercoverable!”; “”Who do I have to F#$% to get some hair culers that don’t look like doughnuts!”; “Where the F$%^ did you leave my D#$% D#%$#! You keep it up and I’ll F@#$ing S@#$ up your A$$!”

**It’s as if he only ate the marshmallow pieces from lucky charms. He’s lost the capacity for intelligible speech. It’s kinda like “nur nur nur nur nur” at max vol. Somewhere there’s an enormous pile of the oat pieces probably behind the fridge or inside the dog.