Tuesday, October 31, 2006

The Johnston MX450 Street Sweeper

Good news! The street sweeper came by real early this morning for a surprise visit. Yeah, it is kind of loud, but it also moves quite slowly, which wakes you gently. I even had time to go outside, move my car, and snap a picture.



I got all excited by the thought of what our street was going to look like all cleaned up. I totally couldn't get back to sleep. I took the trash out. I walked down just a few houses and took the neighbor's trash out for them. I passed the sweeper on my way there, and on my way back. It really does move pretty slow, but I have to assume that's because it's taking its time to do a really good job. It isn't just to piss everybody off and wake them up for nothing.




Not at all. The Johnston MX450, though very loud and slow-moving, sure helps keep our streets looking beautiful. That massive streak of dirt is very uniform. Excellent work, fellas. Wonder if we got ours on the ebay, too.

Monday, October 30, 2006

The O'Reily Factor for Kids

Continuing this theme of topics that are too easy to poke fun at, here's an excerpt from The Factor, Jr.

"This guide is not necessarily about what's right and wrong. It's about using your head. Listen up."

"At this stage in my life, I know who I am and, best of all, I know how to choose friends I can trust and stay away from people who are poison."

"I hope you're not the kind of pinhead kid who thinks that adults are living in a world that has nothing to do with yours."


And of course, I could go on. But for $22.95 (hardcover) Bill will give you "...the straight stuff. No sugarcoating" type of advice that is so challenging for parents to administer.

Especially if your kid is such a fuckin' pinhead.

On a technical note, rather than have all these posts displayed on one page, I've switched to over to a Daylight Savings format, where each day's entry is on its own page. I think I like that better.

Sunday, October 29, 2006

The Mojo Priest



When you think of blues, if you're anything like me, you can't help but also think of martial arts. Martial arts of course means Steven Seagal. It only follows then that Steven Seagal is your favorite blues artist of all time.

Good news for all of us then, that his band, Steven Segal & Thunderbox has a new album entitled "Mojo Priest" (that's Steven's blues/martial arts nickname.) I heard Steven say, "If there's a better blues album out this year, I haven't heard it."

Sold!

Ok. Pretty lame to pick on such an easy target. And, while this video is simply wrong, I honestly have to give him points for playing with his thumb.

This is all still pretty hard to believe, though.

Saturday, October 28, 2006

Willard St. Market

Anatomy of a Transaction



Probably the first thing you'll notice about this store is that it smells like a damp ashtray. Very homey. Should you have found your way into this store because you wanted to purchase, oh I don't know, let's say "a cold drink", the very next thing you should notice is the rack of "questionable" sex magazines blocking immediate access to the beverage coolers. But once you have found your way to the coolers and have found your drink, you might then be tempted to take the most direct route back to the register. That is a novice move, my friend. You'll find the main aisle of the store mostly blocked with a few boxes and general things you need to step around/over. No one will be anywhere in sight, if you're wondering who put those boxes there, how long they've been there, or what the hell they are there for.

Arriving at the register, it's possible that you'll find a clear section of the counter on which you can place the soon-to-be-yours beverage. The elderly foreign woman will be with you in a second. She is not asleep with her mouth open. She is on the phone. Your wait should be no longer than 15 seconds, tops. No eye contact will be made during this time. Her head will be aiming squarely at the floor, at the space directly in front of her feet. At this point, you may wish to avert your eyes from the sight of 68-year-old camel toe. This step is optional.

Though this stage of the transaction is a bit unclear, in the example of a 15oz., single-serving bottle of juice, it can only be assumed that she will ring in whatever price comes to mind. Keeping in mind that it would be bad to sell items at a loss, a minimum of $1.75 will ring up. This is where the lack of eye contact starts to make sense since most of us, to some degree, are capable of the emotion known as "shame" and eye contact is an inhibitor in this regard.

At this point, it should ring true that you are in an immense hurry, since the instinct is to orate, "A dollar-fucking-seventy-FIVE?! What... the... FUCK?!", leave the beverage on the counter, kick something over, and head for the door. Yes, you have already tolerated quite a bit more than you might think would be allowed in a so-called "free market economy", but you are here because you really need this juice for some reason, and you don't have another second to spare. Willard Street Market knows this. It is the premise upon which their entire business model is based. To continue the transaction, simply place your two dollars on the counter.

Once the woman who sounds, perhaps, Polish, barks some more angry gibberish into the magical voice box which she obviously finds so fascinating, she will hold out a quarter. Take the offering. It is for you. It is a concession to a time-honored custom known as "change". I know she is still not looking at you. I know she will not interrupt her call. I know it's difficult to prove that she ever even saw you. There will be no exchange of pleasantries. It is time for you to leave.

Friday, October 27, 2006

Does This Make The World Series Any Better?

Cardinals / Tigers? Pretty hard to get worked into a lather about that one. It’s also really hard to root for a guy nicknamed “Pudge”. Rhymes too closely with fudge, as far as I'm concerned. More nicknames that suck? How 'bout "Chipper" Jones? What about calling another dude "The Big Unit"?

Hey, let's move on!

The last five World Series titles have been won by teams from five different divisions:

White Sox: AL Central
Red Sox: AL East
Marlins: NL East
Angels: AL West
Diamondbacks: NL West

So if St. Louis wins, that means all six divis- oh screw it, who cares?

Thursday, October 26, 2006

Put A Damn Salad Right On Your Nachos



Ever put a salad on your nachos? Think about that one sometime.


Basket, that's good eatin'. Someone should tell Joey about this.

What the Hell Happened?

Joey Defrancesco, circa 1990. Approx. 18 years old. Shown here playing trumpet, but most notably famous for playing the Hammond B3.




Joey Defrancesco, last night. TV.


Hint: Mr. Defrancesco is not the one playing the guitar.

Apparently, Joey likes the snacks.

More to hear and see here.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

"Should I Not Have Said That?"

I don't often ask myself that question because it would require way too much time, but I did recently manage to creep myself out, due to something I said. I said some things that were, I don’t know, “funny”? I remember laughing at the time, but when the laughter went away, it was replaced by a kind of gross creepiness that has left a bit of a mental stain, and trust me, use of the word "stain" is not making the whole situation any better.

This weekened, I decided to pay an unannounced visit to my brother-in-law’s house to get his Internet connection working. The door was open, so I just walked in. He was in the shower, and that door was open, too. Almost seemed like some kind of hopeful invitation, doing something like that, so instead of the perfectly direct and sensible, "Hey, U.P. I'm doin' the cable!", I instead chose to shout up, “Hey, you got room for me in there!” Ha ha frickin' ha. Whatever. I'm so damn funny. He figured it right out anyway and shouts, “Hey, yeah. Come on in.” It was all so hopelessly gay.

I didn't have to add, "Yeah, I can do your back!"

That was creepy.

There will be no photo with today's entry.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Fresh and Lazy



Has anyone noticed that heating frozen foods is actually a total pain in the ass? They take forever in the oven, and microwaves, well, if people didn't all love hot dogs so damn much, I don't think the microwave oven would ever have been invented. A fully-heated frank in six seconds is plenty impressive, but what really amazes me is the way that microwave ovens can find a way to scald you with a food that's still virtually uncooked.

So the real cop-out is the dinner pictured above, where you grab any two bags of pre-sliced wedgables, throw them in anything resembling a wok, and dump some sauce on it all. Maybe boil some kind of noodle to go with it. Fear not the tofu. Go for broke and throw in a handful of peanuts or cashews. Give it five or six minutes on the heat and Bruce Lee's your uncle. Follow it up with a Twinkie or Hostess Cupcake if it puts you right.

Once every week. That's how we roll here at my house.

Monday, October 23, 2006

"Hi, Bob."

I found this little piece of music on some website a while back. Some guy named Steve was recording his guitar into his iPod when a co-worker, Bob, walks in and "ruins" it. Bob thought it was funny and put it on his website.

Here's the recording.

I thought it'd be pretty cool to take that recording and build on it - kind of making it sound like Bob had really ruined something. At the very least, I thought it would be a nifty way to make an acquaintance. Most unfortunately, the music didn't seem to make much sense to me. Play it again. Maybe you get it. I sure didn't.

After a few more listens, I did get an idea. Not sure if it was what Steve was thinking, but it at least made sense to me. I recorded some things and sent it off.

Sounds like this.

Bob genuinely seemed to enjoy it, but he didn't tell me whether or not he'd even played it for Steve, and I had to bug him to find that out. Were we going to start an Internet band? Was he offended? Did I totally miss it? Was he worried about someone stealing his music?

I eventually got a reply from Bob. "Steve enjoyed it."

Hardly worth the effort.

Sunday, October 22, 2006

Keep Your Hands Attached To Yourself

You have to really like who you are, even though there are so many other people you’d rather be. For example, I just got done watching a show about savants, and any one of those people seem like a pretty good choice. Most of them can’t even dress themselves, but they all seem to have a wicked talent for something. Besides, there are plenty of people out there who can dress themselves. That’s been done to death. I’ll take piano-playing, like that 10-year-old kid, or to be able to draw like that crazy fucker over there.

I consider myself kind of an instrumentalist, because I think “musician” is far too strong a word. I enjoy creating short pieces of music – sometimes for money, sometimes for the satisfaction of it. There’s a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction when you put something together that sounds good to you. Tempering this is the fact that being a musician or instrumentalist means that you, on a regular and fairly frequent basis, are reminded that you are a talentless hack, and should just do yourself and everyone else a favor and cut your own goddamn hands off right now, since you suck so bad.

Yesterday’s reminder comes courtesy of Andy Partridge of XTC. He wrote a short song of thanks for a fan named Wes Long, and mailed ‘ol Wes a CD, unannounced. Just cranked one out and sent it off in the mail. Since it’s just Andy pissing one out, “Song For Wes Long” clocks in at under a minute. Oh, and those 57 seconds of music he so happily just pissed out, make me look like a savant that never got any of the cool benefits.

Hear it.

But, rather than feeling defeated by it, I can take inspiration from this musical example. With enough hard work, serious practice, and dedication, I could probably learn to like myself someday. Besides, cutting your hands off would only prove to be more frustrating. You'd need a lobotomy, too.

Saturday, October 21, 2006

The Week In Review

After trying this for a week, I think it's time for an evaluation. I think I can safely say that writing this stuff probably doesn't interest me one whole hell of a lot more than it interests you. Here's how the last week of entries came together.

Slash vs. Nigel Tufnel
Honestly, I thought Slash could play better than that. I debated for some time whether to bother making an entry about it. Seemed pretty pointless, but then I started thinking that "pointless" might just be the whole M.O. here. Maybe I should roll with that and see if I can dig it.

2005 Aprilia Scarabeo 150
I had an incredibly great ride that day. I also thought it wouldn't be a bad idea to put the make and model out there in case someone happened to be searching. I've learned a lot about how it works and I could probably offer some help, or maybe get some.

Just Like an Onion
I thought this was "entry-worthy" after I had finally parked and then realized that getting to my destination on foot wasn't going to be any easier. But this entry really didn't come close to capturing the experience. Could you tell I didn't really have an ending? That all may have something to do with the lack of interest I was talking about a minute ago.

Bolt Awake at 3:08AM
It was pretty odd to just suddenly feel wide awake like that, but the idea of leading a productive life nearly round-the-clock is something I have all the time. Every night I go to bed with some degree of feeling that I haven't yet accomplished the things I should, and sleep means I am quitting.

John Mayer Wins!
I started it, so I guess I should finish it. I rewrote this a few times, trying to tell it in as few words as possible, because it started to look like I actually cared about what happened. I don't know if it's possible to actually choke on irony, but there's your chance right there.

Pandy Fackler
They way I remembered that story from Dean Ween was funnier in my head. I really thought he said something more direct about Jazz being lame, but I guess not. Well, that was my idea for the day, so I tried to make it work. I had a hell of a time picking another Ween song title to compare. I settled on "Touch My Tooter" for the entry, and I seriously considered using "Put The Coke On My Dick", but decided that it might be kind of distracting, and show the band in the wrong light.

How Not To Hold a Microphone
My favorite, by far. I wish every entry could be like this. Too easy. I think it's probably the case that, if I write a really long entry, it's because I don't have much of an idea that day.

I Bought Fred Flintstone's Leaf Vacuum
A normal person would long ago have realized that the stupid vac is more of a pain than it's worth, but I really hate raking. Actually, I don't mind it so much on a decent day. Not bad exercise, really. But I already bought the vac, so I may as well use it.

How To Make Money on The World Series
I thought this would be so much easier to explain. It is pretty easy in person. It really lost something in the translation. Not my idea, but I'm not telling you where I heard it, either. And it will require about $70 in stamps, but you can set the price for your final pick however you'd like, to help make up for it. Or, you'll just lose that $70.

Blowin' Straight Into The Wind
I couldn't really get a picture of the wind, and I had to hide a bit so she wouldn't see me snapping her picture. I'd have some serious explaining to do. And I go through all of this, for what? Didn't we already establish that I don't really care?

This Week's Phrase That I Didn't Get To Use But Wanted To:
"Bathtub crank."

And now, I will shoehorn it into a previously-drafted entry.

Here's my neighbor, attempting to rake her yard in 30MPH gusts. I don't converse much with her because she's usually hopped up on bathtub crank and thinks she's the goddamn Hulk or something.

But I went with the "swingers" thing instead, because that's honestly how I feel.

So, why am I still here? In all, I'd say the first (possibly only) week wasn't quite the hoot I thought it would be. Might have to just see how this whole thing sits.

Friday, October 20, 2006

Blowin' Straight Into The Wind



Have a look there. A windy day today for sure, and I came home to the familiar sound of a leaf blower. Since I've lived in this neighborhood for more than nine minutes, I knew just who it was.



Here's my neighbor, attempting to rake her yard in 30MPH gusts. The folks who live in this house really enjoy lawn maintenance. If the sound of a lawn tractor running three times a week doesn't annoy, then the daily use of the leaf blower should take care of you. In fact, "Mr. Yard" often enjoys doing a little leaf blower tidy-up in the AM, before he leaves for work, meaning he's often out there with that thing at 7:30AM. It can also be a great deal of fun in the evening, after work. In the summer, the leaf blower runs almost constantly at that house. On any other day I'd think, "No big deal. They just really care about their lawn and want it to look as nice as is humanly possible every single second", but today I am starting to think that this may just go a little deeper, somehow.

And I'm pretty sure they're swingers.

Thursday, October 19, 2006

How To Make Money on The World Series




This is easier to pull during regular season play, since you don't have such a tight time frame. But if you're a little creative, you could probably make this work for the World Series if you use electronic mail and funds transfer. For this example, we'll assume it's Mets vs. Detroit, and we'll assume it goes to seven games.

Get the names and addresses of 100 people.
Send 50 of them a note reading, "The Mets will win Game 1."
Send the other 50 a note reading "Detroit will win Game 1."
Pay attention to who wins the game.
Those 50 people for whom you picked the wrong team? Forget them. You're now down to a pool of 50.
Take the 50 people who think you are right and split them into two groups.
Send 25 a note picking the Mets and the other 25 a note picking Detroit.
Wait to see who wins and, once again, forget the 25 that see you have made a bad pick.
Divide the remaining 25 and do it all again.
Repeat this as above and eventually you'll whittle it down to one guy who thinks you are six-for-six.
Send him a note that says, "For my next pick, send me $250."
Collect your money and pick a team.

Make sure to use a P.O. Box., and hope you've reached (or created) a bettor on the last guy in line. Colored envelopes are fun.

Good luck.

Wednesday, October 18, 2006

I Bought Fred Flintstone's Leaf Vacuum



Man, them leaves sure is purty. Man, I sure hate raking them. I hate it so badly, I bought a leaf vacuum. You could bail out right here and know that I hate raking, or you could read on and learn just how serious I am about that.

I found a used yard vac in the paper for $90, which is a far cry from the $599 needed to buy one new. So I call the guy and ask to come out and have a look. The directions he gives take me right to my old neighborhood, actually to the house across the street from where I used to live, and I realize that I'm on the phone with the guy we used to refer to as Fred Flintstone. Nicknames such as these are the wont of kids in their teen years, but in retrospect, the only reason we called him that was because he looked exactly like Fred Flintstone. We weren't so unfair that we'd judge a person based strictly on looks. He also walked like Fred Flinstone. In fairness, anyone who shares that particular physique has little choice in that regard. But that was enough to make him "Fred" in our book. Oh yeah - and he also had a job at the quarry, operating the bronto-crane.

Well, whatever. I ended up buying the thing. The neighborhood discount? He filled it with gas for me. Yabba-dabba-whooptee-frickin'-doo.

I brought the vacuum home and it was every bit as awesome as I had hoped, working flawlessly for me for two seasons, sucking up everything it its path and not requiring the use of a rake at all, until one day when I tried to unclog it using a broken piece of furniture and that stopped the engine dead. Instead of breaking the shear pin like it's supposed to, it broke the connecting rod.

Bummer.

Walking past the rake, I went to the computer and found a replacement part online for 15 bucks, all told. I had it within a couple of days. I had to tear the whole engine apart to get to the con rod, but I got it in. Getting it all back together would prove to be more difficult, and I managed to snap a piston ring in the process.

Oh well. Just rings, right?

$66! Are you serious? $66 for rings! Don't make me spend 66 bucks on rings, because I'm not even sure I got the connecting rod back in right. I hate raking. What is the deal?

Well at some point, enough is enough and you just have to face the simple reality that, even though you don't really like it, the yard does need to get clean. You should probably just go ahead and replace the engine. I mean, come on. $66 for rings? Right. So I couldn't believe it when I found a drop-in replacement engine for $95, plus $10 to ship, and I whipped out the plastic faster than you can say, "You could've had that yard raked 1,000 times over by now, dumbass."

The new engine arrived, and in 15 minutes, I had the old engine off and the new one on. Pretty easy, except I spent the next two days trying to pull-start it. See, Fred Flintstone's vacuum was just start and go, but this replacement motor had a "dead man bar" ignition system on it, meaning the spark was disabled by default. I didn't have a bar on my vac, but I eventually figured what was going on and found a way to hold the switch closed (nylon tie-wrap) and the thing fired up on the very next pull. Sweet! I gave my rake the finger, went outside and kicked some yard ass, and put the vac away for the winter.

In April, I made sure to give it a start and do a little light cleanup, just so that it wouldn't be sitting so long without starting. Ran great. Fired on the first pull. Yesterday, I thought I'd get a start on the yard since we have one particular maple tree that drops a lot of leaves which can prove to be somewhat of a mouthful for the vac, and then I have to unclog it with a broken piece of furniture. Since about half the leaves seem to have fallen (as in the photo above) it was a good time to get after it.

I got out the 'ol vacuum and gave her a pull. Nuthin'. About two hours, several wrenches, and several dozen pulls later, I discover that my tie-wrap, though still tied, has torn through the thin metal tab I'd secured it to, and the kill switch is again in the off position. I found another place to secure the tie and it fired up no problem. Yes!

Me 1 Rake 0



By this point, it had started raining heavily and the leaves were far too wet to vacuum. The wind had also blown most of the rest of the leaves out of the tree.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

How Not To Hold a Microphone



No, MC P-whip here is not about to bust out some freestyle for the ladies-ladies-ladies at the Rachael Ray show. He's just asking a question. But, I can only assume that he's thinking about all the rap performers whom he no doubt idolizes, and has decided that The Stranglehold is the way to hold a mic. Even though it does look like he's layin' some stoopid phat beat-box groove on the hizz-ay, D.J. Barrelchest is just front'n.

Now ask me how I happened to be on this channel in the first place.

Monday, October 16, 2006

Pandy Fackler



Have you heard any Ween? Two guys; Gene and Dean Ween. They write a lot of very, very, very odd songs, but they also have a select few seriously mainstream songs. Like, "Hey, isn't that George Harrison?" type songs.

"Pandy Fackler" is their Steely Dan rip-off. I really like saying "Pandy Fackler", as, I'm sure, do you. Regarless, this song really is a pretty convincing imitation, and I got to wondering how the same guys who wrote "Touch My Tooter" could cop the smooth, jazz-rock style of The Dan so convincingly. They write all these experimental songs, and now I'm going to find out they're all studied and junk? Don't know if that ruins it for me, or if that makes it better.

So, wondering if these guys were really all about the Jazz, I found an interview in which Deaner sheds some light on that very question.
"I started taking jazz guitar lessons to learn how to play standards. I got bored with it really quickly, but that song is kinda what I got out of it. The lyrics are so offensive I don’t even want to tell you what it’s really about..."

Best explanation I could hope for. Guess it really is Ween after all. Come on; say "Pandy Fackler" just once. You know you want to.

Sunday, October 15, 2006

John Mayer Wins!

No he doesn't. Nigel wins.

The contest started here.

What did John do? It was a little on the funky side. It was good. Best solo of the bunch, and he even played in the key of the car horn. Made for a nice chord at the end. But Nigel was funny. Go see for yourself somewhere.

Now, what would Jesus do?

Bolt Awake at 3:08AM

My eyes just opened and I'm wide awake. Without so much as a yawn, I'm out of bed feeling like I have an early flight to catch, except I've got nothing to catch and no reason to be up. So now what? Now, I conquer the world! While most everyone else is asleep, I am awake and ready to go! I can use this time to refine my business plan, streamline my economic flow, develop new markets, strategize and develop dynamic synergies that strengthzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

Saturday, October 14, 2006

Just Like an Onion

Yesterday, I made the mistake of trying to have lunch in Winooski. If you haven’t heard, they recently decided that since that dome-over-the-city idea wasn't going to work out, it would probably be best to just blow up a large portion of the city and start over. I have no problem with that, and the only difference to me seems that I can now get through the city faster than ever. Great. But yesterday I actually needed to stop there for something. Well there's an unexpected twist. Since I've made it this long without the need for any of the wonderful services offered on Winooski's main street, I never gave it a second thought. Here’s an aerial view of the section in question.



Notice (left-center) the wicked cool 1/4mi oval they had installed for maximum nitro gear-grinding action! Actually, it really does help you get through that section of the city pretty quick. I initially thought I might park in the area to the left of the oval. Seems a lot of other people wanted to park around here, too. I never would have guessed that this many people would want to come to Winooski. So, I write this as a public service to those of you who may someday need to park here.

There are a lot of One Way streets in this vacinity and they are, by and large, not stacked in your favor. If you choose one of these streets and the parking doesn't work out (and trust me, it won't) you quickly realize that you've just purchased yourself the classic "one-way ticket to Palookaville." Two times through this one-way maze, and I started seriously evaluating those lunch plans.

I saw a space open up on the other side of the "racetrack", turned her around, and realized that there was no way to get to it. Below is a map of how I had to circumnavigate my way to the spot.


Thanks to some creative curbing, there isn't a way to just pull up in front of the building with the parking space in front of it. It was a long way to go (just like this post.) I did eventually make it (also, like this post.)

I parked, got out of the car and, shitting you not, almost collided with another pedestrian. I have to cross at a point where traffic freakin' triangulates. I was so busy trying to look in three directions at once, I nearly ran into a guy, and from the looks of him, I think he would've been some pissed. It would not have gone well.

Only one crosswalk left to navigate. What could possibly go wrong?

Relax. Nothing happened.

Friday, October 13, 2006

2005 Scarabeo 150



I scored this thing back in June. It's been pretty awesome, actually. The only reason I bring it up now is that, earlier this week, I took it out for a ride that proved to be the best yet. I really can't say why, considering it was around 50° and gray/overcast, but a simple trip to the bank turned into a two-hour ride. I thought these things were supposed to be the most fun on warm, sunny days. Glad to know I was wrong. There's a good chance winter is going to feel just a bit shorter this year.

Quick specs on the 2005 Aprilia Scarabeo 150:
150cc, single-cylinder, four-valve, four-stroke engine manufactured by Rotax
70MPH
up to 70MPG
Made in Italy

It's comfortable as all hell, stands as big as most motorcycles, zips away from the light faster than the car next to you, and you don't have to shift it. You just enjoy the ride and concentrate on the road. One of these days, I'm going to go for milk and wind up in Montreal.

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Slash vs. Nigel Tufnel

You've seen that VW commercial with Slash, haven't you? He was wearing the goofy hat and he's got the slouch going and all, but man, that was a pretty lame solo. Well, what can you do - ask for another take? Right, if you don't mind him whipping a (mostly empty) bottle of Jack at your head.

If you haven't heard, VW is giving away a guitar when you buy a car. The guitar has a built-in preamp, so it can plug into a car stereo. Guitars like these almost always sound like crud.

Then I see Nigel Tufnel's commercial, and even though I'm ready to laugh at it no matter what, it's still funny as hell. He's standing on the car, soloing his nuts off (doing that chromatic thing he does so quickly) and he stops for just a sec to blurt, "This amplifier has an airbag!" That was good, but watching him work up the coordination to talk and play was even better. So much funny crammed into so little space.

On top of all that, his guitar sounds 1000x better than Slash (and I'm not counting the section where Nigel was using the wah pedal.) Go ahead and compare for yourself. Slash's sound has that annoying transister spuzz that these guitars are infamous for, and Nigel, of all people, finds a decent setting. Awesome.

Now I can't wait to see what John Mayer does. He can play well, in spite of the songs he writes, and in spite of the fact that, when he sings, he contorts his mouth in a way that makes him look exactly like my retarded cousin, Karen. Same hair. Same facial expressions. It's uncanny to the point of distraction. I can only assume that he must also like to poke fat people when he sees them.

In any case, I think his solo will be the best of the three, and I'm really curious to hear what kind of tone he gets out of that horrible thing. If you check the VW website, there are some lessons with Dweezil Zappa. (Like how I said "Zappa" so you wouldn't think it was some other Dweezil?) Anyway, Nigel beat him on tone, too.

So it's really down to Nigel vs. John Mayer in the third and final round.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Do Not Adjust Your Set

Mostly just working on picking a font and getting the look going here. Hope to hell I can delete this post later. Do you suppose blogger.com has already flagged me for saying "hell" in my first post? Haven't been here two minutes, and already I've got trouble.