Monday, October 29, 2007


The man who documented every 5 minutes of his life since 1972 has passed (listen):

Sunday, October 21, 2007

One Hell of a Weekend

And when it was over I had a three day growth of beard, this hangover and a $5 polariod shot of myself with a monkey on my lap.

- PiGbOyFaCe

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Our Band Could Be Your Life

If like me, you have pissed away a substantial amount of time over the last two decades uncovering new kernels of info. about seminal punk groups such as Black Flag or the Minutemen, this historical text will briefly fascinate. The chapter on the Butthole Surfers is particularly odd and comically depraved. Hell, this book makes it easy. In the pre-internet days (and before there was a market for a book such as this) one had to scour liner notes, interviews and song lyrics to glean even the tiniest morsel. A time consuming endeavor, indeed. Our Band Could Be your Life chronicles the rise and fall of these outfits culminating in the post-Nevermind indie explosion and many of the active participants are briefly interviewed.

It fits in well on the shelf right next to the essential punk oral history Please Kill Me and other semi-related tomes such as American Hardcore, Lexicon Devil and We Got the Neutron Bomb.

If you are unfamiliar with the groups outlined, Our Band Could Be Your Life is a pointless read (unlike the riotous Please Kill Me which would surely interest even those hapless souls with no interest in the genre). In Our Band, the anecdotes of infighting, substance abuse and heroic struggles against the major label record industry are simply too tedious to one unfamiliar with the music itself. As for me, I saved the chapters on Mudhoney and Beat Happening for last because I never listened them, and those two chapters were a tedious plod indeed.

Even if you aren't drooling at the prospect of a pre-indie rock history book, the heft of it would still make for a decent paperweight or a fair to middlin' doorstop.

Monday, October 15, 2007


"Take it from me, life's not worth living."

- Louis-Ferdinand Celine', Voyage a bout de la nuit

Friday, October 5, 2007

A Year to Live

Bill and Frank sat watching people go by. The place was a large outdoor pedestrian mall with an ornate fountain as its centerpiece. An indoor mall sat at one end and the Mississippi River ran along its side. All manner of people went by and Bill quickly washed his feet under the weight of a icy stare from an old woman with cat-eye sunglasses on, who sat frozen, admiring the fountain.
Bill turned to let his feet dry in the breeze. Now he was facing the woman. Frank didn't seem to notice her as he smoked and had apparently picked up a pair of sunglasses. Bill wondered at Frank's ability to procure items like cigarettes, lighters, sunglasses, hats, shoes... He figured that he'd either walked into one of the shops back on Canal St. and taken it or swiped it off of someone whilst walking. In either case, it was a pretty neat trick to be able to pull off consistently without getting caught a lot, at least it seemed so to Bill. He bummed a cigarette off of Frank, who apparently had a whole pack.
Frank moaned just loud enough for Bill to hear and when Bill looked over, Frank was staring. Bill followed his line of vision and ended up looking at a gorgeous young woman in a flower print sun dress. She had wispy blond hair and open shoes that were nothing more than a wedge of rubber with tiny leather straps binding them to her feet. Her body was that of a swimsuit model. She walked at a brisk pace, but her face was relaxed and peaceful as if she had nowhere to go, just extra energy. She positively glowed in the sunlight.
Bill looked away before she noticed his stare.
Frank, his head not moving, followed her with his eyes from behind his sunglasses.
While waiting for her to get out of earshot so they would be able to discuss the nuances of her passing, Bill fidgeted around, examining the stone of the fountain, checking his shoes, waving his feet... He still could feel the old woman's stare and he looked at her quickly. Sure enough, she still seemed to be staring right at the spot she had been when they'd first arrived. Bill wished he had a pair of sunglasses. He puffed at his cigarette.
"Damn, that bitch was fine!" Frank said.
"That girl in the flowered dress! Didn't you see her?"
"Oh, yeah...yeah! She was a goddess."
"And she knew it too!"
"DID she!" Bill shook his head.
"Did you catch the painted toenails?"
"No! What color?"
"Looked like red..." he pointed to his sunglasses and sighed.
"I liked the shoes."
"Yeah," Frank nodded as he produced a candy bar.
"But how about that beautiful little dress?"
"Shit, that bitch could have been wearing a potato sack..."
"Yeah... Maybe you're right," Bill said as he slipped the shoes onto his bare feet. "But the dress didn't hurt either. How about the way it blew around in the wind, letting a little extra thigh show now and then?"
"You're right, but all I'm saying is that she'd have been fine either way." Frank said as he scanned the crowd, studiously taking in every woman that went by. He dismissed the men as soon as he determined that they were either cops or too smart to be conned. The ones he decided were cops he imagined into painful situations. He was picturing one particular pinhead with a sharpened coat hanger piercing his navel when Bill said something. "What's that?" Frank asked.
"I said, what would you do if you knew you only had a year to live?"
"Well I guess I'd do what I'm doing now until I died in the Charity ward." He paused. "That's a hell of a fucking question to ask, man."
"You took it the wrong way. Of course, that's what I'd do too, given our present situation." They both glanced down at their clothes. "I mean if we were straight and had jobs and houses and wives and families and everything. What then?"
"Those are a lot of ifs..."
"Yeah, but humor me, I think I'm on to something."
"On to something?"
"Yeah. Just answer the question. What WOULD to do?"
Frank thought for a minute. "Is it something painful?"
"The thing I'm diagnosed with."
"Doesn't matter."
"Well of course it matters! If it's some horrible wasting illness like AIDS or something, I'd probably kill myself before the year was up."
"Okokok! It's a painless tumor that the doctors say will explode and kill you in exactly one year."
"They can't operate?"
"Ok. well that changes things a lot."
"You're right...So what would you do?"
"Well, let's see..." Frank meditatively watched a little latin girl go by.
"Caramel." Bill mumbled.
"Yeah, that mexican cutie with the caramel colored skin that just went by..."
"Oh, yeah. I saw her. . . So?"
"So what?"
"What would you do?"
"I don't know," Frank said, getting annoyed. "I guess I'd divorce my wife, kiss my kids good-bye and buy a Harley. Maybe smoke a lot of opium and tool around on my bike until the damned tumor blew up and killed me in my sleeping bag."
Bill didn't say anything and just sat nodding reflectively.
"Hmmm," Bill said, seeming to wake up from his thoughts.
"Then what would YOU do?" Frank asked with a tinge of sarcasm.
"I'd just stay in my place with my family... Don't get me wrong, I'd quit my job and all, but it'd be better than dying alone."
"Eh, maybe you're right." Frank watched a young couple pushing a baby in a stroller. The man was sweating profusely and carrying two large baby bags that threatened to burst. "What kind of question is that to ask anyway?"
"I dunno," Bill shrugged, "I just think it says a lot about a person's ambitions, that's all."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I think the answer to that question says a lot about you, where you picture yourself going and what you want from life. Like you, for instance. You want to be left alone to enjoy what you can get your hands on, while I want love, and to be with my family and all..."
They both sat and thought, watching the beautiful women walk by in groups and alone, with husbands, boyfriends, babies, parents, siblings and pets. Each one more sensual than the last. Huge vessels went by on the river. Tanker ships, cruise ships, tugboats and barges. All of them with men scurrying around on their decks.
Frank suddenly stood up, slapping both of his knees.
"I think it's time we went looking for some grub, pardner."
"I think you're right." Bill said as he got up to follow Frank.
The old woman quietly sighed to herself and rearranged her hands in her lap.

Thursday, October 4, 2007

Got boudin?

Consumed a questionable link of boudin today from a reputable and much loved purveyor. I sucked the edible contents from a synthetic casing as I drove down the Dime at 70 MPH, hands full and steering with my knees, a piece of greasy butcher paper unceremoniously spread across my lap. Feeder bands from a tropical storm pummeled my windshield obscuring visibility. It had chunks of fat, gristle and small pieces of bone intermingled with the seasoned rice and liver...Still, it was a spicy treat and my lips burned afterward for half an hour.

- PiGbOyFaCe

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

An American Battle

SEARS Credit Card

RE: Sears Credit Card Account #XXXXXXXXX

Dear Sir or Madam:

It is with regret and consternation that I must report the following troubles that I have been having with this credit card since July 2004. First, please note that I have never received a bill or late payment for this account since 07/04, until I called to close the account in 04/05, at which time the operator informed me that I had an outstanding balance. The chronology of my story and the ensuing problems are as follows:
07/22/04 & 07/25/04 - I made a few purchases at a local SEARS store, with the resulting balance totaling $130.74. On the first occasion, I reported to the sales clerk that I moved and provided her with my new address. She was unsure if she could make the change in the system. After a few moments she stated that she was able to do so and did (or so she stated). This address was XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
08/04 -I never received a bill or late notice.
09/04 -At some point in 09/04, I realized that I never received a bill for these purchases. I called the number on my credit card and was informed that the address change was never made and that late fees and finance charges were applied. I explained the situation to the operator. The operator assured me that the late fees and finance charges would be dropped. She quoted me a balance of $130.74. In additon, she stated that the address change had been noted. I paid the balance in full.
10/04 or 11/04 - I returned to SEARS and made another purchase of two shirts and a pair of slacks.
11/04 - No bill or late fee received at my reported address.
12/04 - No bill or late fee received. By this point, I forgot about the purchases, thus it did not cross my mind to call and reported the same change of address for the third time.
01/05 - No bill or late fee received at my reported address.
02/05 - No bill or late fee received at my reported address.
03/05 - No bill or late fee received at my reported address.
04/05 - No bill or late fee received at my reported address. I called to cancel the account because I obtained another SEARS card recently (SEARS MasterCard- it is worth noting that I had no credit troubles in obtaining this card nor was I informed of late fees with the old card). I was notified when I called to cancel the card of the outstanding balance, I requested a statement at once. I moved again and had a new address to report. This time, I promptly received notice of closure and the balance amount, along with a history of transactions.
I have enclosed a check for the original purchase amount and a small finance charge which was included at that time, although I think it too erroneous. This seems to me fair and equitable after the nightmare which I have just described to you. I intend to remain a SEARS customer provided this is settled honestly and satisfactorily. Thank you in advance for your assistance with this matter. Please notify me of the results, I have listed several contact options below. PLEASE NOTE THE CORRECT MAILING ADDRESS IS BELOW.

Pretzel Logic

"As long as the flame of life burns, anything can be rectified."

-- Unknown

Who's "The Man"?

"The price of paradise is stained with blood
Young men die for what?"
--Dennes Dale Boon

Tuesday, October 2, 2007


"Women. Old Ladies. Babes. Chicks. Can't live without them, can't use their bones for soup."

--Sonny Barger, Hell's Angel