ARE YOU READY TO ROCK?!

As I have state before or has been deduced from some of my stellar work, I love me some music. More so I love concerts. I usually don't like sitting in some crap ass bar paying a cover charge/drink minimum/smelling like smoke. Instead I like larger concerts. I think that it is because a bigger place allows for some production that enhances the music. The following is a list of my favorite five concerts; in no particular order.

Slayer: The Roy Wilkins Auditorium in Minneapolis (2003)

SO MUCH FUN! My best friends and I were front row the entire time (we had to sit through some crap ass bands to maintain that front row). My friend Ray and I were on Jeff Hanneman's side of the stage and he walks over and stares at us and throws his pick in our direction. Just then some ass face put his gross hand up and knocked it down. The security guard who saw that it was meant for us picked it up and in what was actually 0.5 seconds but seemed to take about 15 minutes; he picked it up and it sat in his hand just staring at me. I then snatched it up so fast and hard that I nearly tore his plastic glove off. He then asked me if I was the one who got it, I said yes and he high fived me. Awesomeness.

Ohm: The Baked Potato in Los Angeles (2009)

Chris Poland is one of my favorite guitar players. Awesome in every aspect. Just wow. Anyways I was in LA for the NAMM show and got the chance to see his band Ohm play. The best part(s) of this were that we got there early enough to see them sound check and afterwards he walked past me and said "Sound good?" My brilliant response "Oh yeah", I said this while managing to not shit my pants. Then they played and it was incredible.

AC/DC: The Fargodome in Fargo (2000)

I was in the way back nose bleeds for this one but it was still the LOUDEST concert I've ever seen and I was front row for two Slayer concerts. They played everything you would expect them to and it didn't sound tired at all.

Faith No More: The Warfield in San Francisco (2010)

One of my all time favorite groups. I touched upon the adventures that went into this concert in an earlier post so I won't dwell too much on it. But it was awesome. They played everything you would expect and we were able to see them play with Chuck Mosely, something that they hadn't done since about 1988 I believe.

Metallica: The Fargodome in Fargo (2004)

Front row again. Very fun. My friends and I were singing the whole time and it was awesome. Then during "Master of Puppets" James Hetfield looks right into my eyes and then two things happened. 1) I forgot the damn words. 2) I turned into a girl. Then later on during "One' Kirk Hammet plays the final solo right in front of us. The lamest thing that happened was at the end of the show. The whole band were throwing pics into the crowd and this asshole security guard in front of us decided that rather than being cool and giving them to us, he would pocket them. All 15 of them. Lame.


I don't get out to see as many shows as I did in my younger days when I was an undergrad and in high school. Mostly because of time and money, but when I do it is still fun. And that's how I'm gonna end this one. Peace out gang.

End Of An Era

Since the semester just ended and I transferred out of Graphic Design into Printmaking, I felt that I would talk about some of my feelings/insights/rambling incoherent thoughts on the subject.

When I was an undergraduate at UND I did a lot of things and found that I enjoyed Printmaking and Graphic Design, in that order the most. Not sure why I chose to go with Graphic Design when I feel that I was and still am better in Printmaking, maybe it was the fact that it should be easier to get a job with Graphic Design. Anyways the classes I took there in retrospect didn't really prepare me for the overwhelmingness (is that a word?) that I would soon feel. I mean sure it started out fine and they eased us into it, making me feel like I could do it. But how quick the tide can turn.
We were told how rough and tumble things would be in the real world, how you had to know just about everything about everything WHILE also realizing that you're just a designer. If that doesn't compute let me break it down real fast: if you are doing something related to say brain surgery for some reason, you need to know everything there is about brain surgery so that you can be the smartest (in a perfect world) person in a room of both designers and brain surgeons. While also not trying to be a brain surgeon. That's what it's like in a nutshell. VERY,VERY overwhelming.
I guess that I realized that I just like design and not love it. I don't want to spend hours upon hours working on something that I might not care about. Also design is so vague. Half the time it seems like a guessing game on what a teacher is looking for. One of my biggest peeves was that it became a god damn money pit. Every project got more expensive, this past semester I probably spent a good $500 at least on ink cartridges. Then there is paper and other miscellaneous crap to go with it. I guess another thing that I could never get into (some of my designer friends felt the same way also) is that I don't want to save the world. It seems that everything has to be about saving this, conservation, informing people about evil corporations, blah blah blah. That's not me and it never has been, and it also loses me very quickly. Plus I don't know if it's just me but if Graphic Design is all about being unique and coming up with stuff that normal people don't think of, why is it that just about every designer out there wants to do one of these boring things? Kinda seems to defeat the overall goal, might be me though.
Anyways so I'm done with it as a major/future occupation. I mean there are things about it that I still like and will probably hold my attention. I won't forget (fingers crossed) it and can integrate it into my future work as a Printmaker. Also I made some pretty cool design friends and if any of them stumble upon this I very much enjoyed working with them. But upwards and onwards!

Damn I Love A Good Book In The Evening

I don't know why, but ever since my last semester of college, when I took a "Vampire Literature" class to fill up my English requirements I have totally been into reading fiction like that. Now I'm not talking about wussy Twilight stuff, its more of the violent vampire (there are two kinds: sexy and violent (I learned that in the class)). It's just so good; but as of late I have been exploring the other monster realms with werewolves and also my new recent favorite: zombies. There is just something about those types of books that I find interesting. Maybe it's the unrealistic nature of them or just the fact that it happens in a real world setting.
The funny thing about this is that for the longest time I was all about nonfiction books, my thought process was that you couldn't write something better than someones life that they actually lived. My personal favorites were/are "The Dirt", "To Hell & Back", and "Juiced". But ever since that class I have been hooked on reading this stuff. It's an interesting hypothetical survival tale. Hiding, scrounging for supplies, trying not to get bitten, what happens if you do; stuff like that. I know that it's not for everyone but if you start reading it, it really makes you think. It might have gotten to me a little bit because since I like to walk more than ride the bus, I am constantly thinking "If zombies came at me right now, what would I do?". Messed up, I know.
I just think that I have read and seen to many zombie things. Of course this will never happen, but you never know right? If it does I will be maybe adequately prepared to run and hide. Maybe I should start reading nonfiction again, but then again that stuff really did happen.

Recollection

It boggles my mind how fast time can fly by sometimes. Often times I find myself attaching time to some object and then I reflect on how long it's been since I got said object or how long it's been since it came out. Often times I find myself doing this with albums. I guess that's because they have a year behind them; or maybe I'm full of shit and don't know why I do that. Anyways here is a short list of albums from various times that really stuck out to me for some reason. They're probably reasons no one else cares about, so if you don't; too bad?

Overkill - The Years of Decay; came out in 1989, I got it in 2009 (a tad late eh?)
I got this album and whenever I listen to it, it always makes me think of my first semester in grad school at AAU. I always think back to walking around Market St. at like 8:00 am waiting for class to start. Also I was filled with optimism because I didn't realize my dreams would be crushed.

Jane's Addiction - Nothing's Shocking; came out in 1988, I got it in 2008
This album always makes me think back to the summer I moved out to San Francisco. I remember taking my awesome dogs The Dude & Steve to the dog park, and also listening to this as we drove through almost all of North Dakota.

Kiss - MTV Unplugged; came out in 1996, I got it in 1996
This decent album is what got me started. I remember wanting to hear what "Rock & Roll All Night" sounded like, and next thing you know....

Metallica - ...And Justice For All; came out in 1988, I got it in 1998
I remember that I got this because some guy at UND killed himself and his parents sold all of his cd's for $5 a pop and I grabbed this one. Messed up I know.

Alice In Chains - Greatest Hits; came out in 2001, I got it in 2001
I remember this being my first AIC disc and it was around the time I broke my knuckle. I had to travel to the air base for physical therapy 3-4 times a week for a few months. Super fun times. Also I remember listening to "I Stay Away" as my mom and I drove home a bunch of times in the Fall.

So yeah that be it people. Go read something else.

Purple Pain (See What I Did There?)

What the hell is wrong with the Minnesota Vikings?

Seriously, awhile ago on NFL Network they had a Top Ten Countdown episode of the most snake bitten franchise and the Vikings were at or near the top. I swear, you couldn't make up half the shit that I hear about. Then the whole Randy Moss thing; lets bring the prodigal son home BUT we won't utilize him and the cut him after a month. Bravo. Spare me all the stuff about his baggage, I've known about that since '98. You know what you're getting with him so don't be a tard and pull the plug so fast.
Then there's the head coach Brad Childress. I don't think I can really put into coherent thoughts how much he sucks as a leader of a team. I'm sure in his personal life he's a nice guy but as a football coach, he is a little better than a grad student intern at a small time Division 3 school.
I wish that I was still in Grand Forks so that I could read all the local papers talk about the soap opera that is the Vikings. Here in San Francisco it's just not the same, dealing with dumpster fire that is the 49ers and the Raiders.
As a long time (14 years, is that really long time?) fan of my beloved Purple & Gold, I have developed a theory which I now believe is accurate: once every 10 years the Vikings have a legitimate shot to win the Super Bowl only to screw it up in horrendous fashion. Think about it. In the '60s; they started off like any expansion team but by the end of the decade they made it to the Super Bowl and lost. In the '70s, it deviates a bit because they made it to 3 Super Bowls, but again lost them all. In the '80s they had one maybe two real legitimate shots and blew it. In the '90s, they had the magical 1998 season and some how blew it. 2000, they were lucky to get into the NFC title game as evidenced by the outcome. 10 years later, they get Brett Favre and again make it to the NFC and somehow blow it. Again. See a pattern emerging here? About once a decade they have a chance to win it and more than likely won't. I know that this seems very pessimistic, but I love this damn team and even when they suck I pull for them and wear my Jim Kleinsasser jersey every week. It's just that they have a bad habit of killing every last one of us with this crap.

It's Still Raining Shit...

So it's only early(ish) November and I can't wait for this semester to be over with, and not for the usual reasons that college students wish for. Mine is a little different; this semester has revealed two things to me: 1. I am not that good at Graphic Design and can only hack my way through it, and 2. I need to get the fuck out of Graphic Design. I've decided that I'm not cut out for it, I don't enjoy doing it as much as I used to or want to, and I don't want to do something that I don't truly love. So I decided that after this semester I am going to become a Printmaker, which in hindsight, I probably should have done in the first place. This is a huge step and it's not something I just decided to do. For me it was easy and also not easy. It was easy for the reasons I mentioned and also for others, but not easy because of the people who I have met in the Graphic Design department and consider friends. But I can't stay for that reason, it's stupid and won't help me. In the meantime I have to stick through turning in shitty work after shitty work and being the obvious "worst, what the fuck is he doing here, he should really drop out, man his shit is SO bad, haha look at this" person. It's not fun in any way shape or form but I'm starting to develop round shoulders, so yey?

It's Raining Shit Today...

Good times do not appear to be on the horizon line these days. I'm not sure how to fix things or even what to do. By things I mean school. It's really strange, I've never been the bees knees in anything at school. Never been great (necessarily) or been awful, but this semester anything and everything that can go wrong has happened to me. Hours upon hours of work seem to be wasted and as a result my resolve and motivation is at an all time low. The worst thing is that there is almost no one who wants to hear from some 24 year old about their problems. It's really frustrating. I have 3 classes with technically 5 teachers. 1 of them is super cool. He knows that the life of a graduate student sucks ass on its best day. 2 of them are great in that they give you bad news because you need to hear it and they know that it's best for you. The other 2, well they're a fucking joke in my opinion. They love to belittle you and watch you squirm. I've said this to others I know, who also agree with me, these two ass clowns know what they are talking about, they honest to science do; BUT that does not qualify them to be instructors. As far as that goes, they are so fucking terrible it's not even funny. So as a result of recent events, I am left to question myself and wonder if being in my department is what I want to do, because it has throughly sapped my creative energy and taken the fight out of me.

Spare Some Change? No I WIll Not!

Homeless people. Let me rephrase that, "homeless people", they drive me nuts. They are clearly not homeless, they just want a god damn free handout and it really irritates me. I'd say the one that bugs me the most is this "homeless guy" who sits around the Subway on Fillmore and asks for money. I always suspected that he wasn't really homeless and then one day I saw that lying sack of turds get out of his car four blocks away from Subway and click the car alarm. How lame is that shit? Then to top it all of he sits across the sidewalk from a guy who is really legitimately homeless and he doesn't ask anyone for money or anything. As a result people always stop to talk to him and make sure he is doing okay, they give him money and he always has food and warm clothes.
My other gripe is when homeless people have pets. Seriously; you smell like ass, can barely feed yourself and you own a pet who needs food of their own along with proper health care? What the hell is that? I mean I know that their people and they have feelings and would like companionship and blah blah blah. Still though, if you have a hard time supporting yourself, don't own a pet; it's just not fair to them.
So yeah, that's me on my soapbox for the day. Fake homeless people suck, and real homeless people shouldn't own pets.

5 Short Tales Of Heroism...Kinda

To change it up and be silly, cause everyone knows that I'm Mr. Serious, here is a short collection of random stories that involve yours truly...

1. When I was in high school I took a independent study class where I went to a graphic design company and did whatever it was they wanted me to do, you know the bitch work. So anyways one day I get there and the owner who I'll refer to as....Turd Ferguson, says to me that there will be a blind kid from some other school coming in in the next few days to try his hand at this, so I said "Sounds good." I didn't actually say that, but anyways. So a few days go by and nothing, then one wintery day I show up and say in a loud voice "HEY, WHEN'S THAT BLIND KID GONNA SHOW UP?" Both Turd and his asshole associate stare at me, then come over and say in a sheepish voice "He's right over there." I look over and see him, then they stare at me and an awkward afternoon ensued.

2. Recently, like September 20 2010, recently, I came home from a workshop. My fiance's sister Megan aka El Diablo (jk) and her friend whose name is escaping me were there eating dinner. I pull out my ear buds since Pantera was drowning them out. Then Megan introduces us to each other, and I instantly say; "Hey your the one...with the forest right?" She's puzzled. "Yeah...you know in the woods." Same reaction. " Your the one who pooped in the woods right?" Megan laughs and her friend is embarrassed. Good times.

3. In 2004 some of my friends and I went to Minneapolis to see Slayer again. Some of my other friends were already there at the venue. We pull up to the venue and we see them standing in a sea of soon to be super sweaty nasty looking guys. We wave to them like the idiots that we were (we still are) and keep driving down the street to find a parking spot. No such luck so I turn down a street that later turned out to be a one way street and by later I mean about 10 seconds after I turned on to it. No sooner had that happened than I saw about 4 of the biggest city buses barreling down on us, because I kinda sorta turned on to a one way going...the wrong way. Oh yeah and everyone going to the concert saw this, so we lived (somehow) and made our way to the venue with about 900 people staring at us and making fun of us for being tards.

4. When I was in high school I worked at the old BK Lounge. Wasn't great but wasn't awful either. One day I'm standing there and see this guy with a Strawberry milk shake go into the bathroom. Also this older lady who worked there went into the womens bathroom. A few minutes later she comes out and then a few more minutes later the guy comes out. Instantly the whole place smells like shit, like some lit a shit flavored candle and then farted on top of it. So I go up to a group of my fellow workers and go "Hey you see that guy over there?" They said yes. "He went into the bathroom and took a nasty shit, that's what that smell is." I then get told no its not by that older lady I worked with. I debated that it was and there was no possible alternative. She left then about 30 seconds later one of the managers came over and said "You know it wasn't that guy right?" "It had to be there's no othe..." "Mary", the older lady's name, "has a Colostomy Bag. She just emptied it." Insert foot into mouth.

5. In college I worked at a sweet music store, which I've already covered in previous blog things. Anyways every summer we had this big reading clinic where the biggest sheet music companies would send all of their crap over to us and we would let teachers try it out and then they'd buy it and a bunch of instruments. Well one day this guy Jason and I had to return some stuff to UND where we had borrowed it. So I'm driving the van and it has a trailer on it. I don't know if you've ever tried to back that shit up before, but it's hard! So I pull around and we get the instruments unloaded and its time to leave. Well there's this house next to the art/music building that just so happens to belong to the president of the school. I see his wife leaving and after waiting a few minutes, we cut across the lawn; big ass van and trailer in tow. Well, she was at the stop sign still and we passed her and her facial expression (good times). Anyways we get back to the store and mum is the word. About 4 hours later I get called back to my boss's office and he says that the police had called about someone driving on the presidents lawn. I told him what happened and he thought it was funny. I said that there was no damage to the grass, and it was all good. Mostly because it made everyone laugh and because the police thought that the van and trailer belonged to our crosstown rivals.

And So It Begins (Again)

So it's that time of the year. A new semester loaded with new challenges, more stress, and more debt (bangin). Also coming back are the jackasses who call themselves artists but in reality just look like jackasses. There are really only two things/types of people who make me ashamed of what I do, sometimes they are the same person. One is the super over intellectual/conceptual artist and the other is the person who thinks that because we go to an art school in a fairly progressive state, that they need to dress like the biggest douche bags in the history of douche bags. As I said sometimes these two people are really just one sad annoying person.
Everyday, everyday that I go to class (which this semester is Monday,Wednesday, Friday) these people are all over New Montgomery Street; they have on super skinny pants, messed up haircuts, crazy tight v-neck shirts on, ridiculous bags, and stupid shoes on. It makes me cringe to see these people look like this, but every time I do a few thoughts go through my head: 1) Why? 2) That must take so much work 3) What is the point? 4) You know I can see you right? 5) You look retarded 6)Why? 7) Who are you trying to impress here? 8) Why?  I also try to imagine them getting all ready, putting their guy liner on, getting the right look (you know the one that took about 3 hours but they want to make it look like it took only 10 minutes), plus what do their parents think? I mean people of my generation have parents who grew up between 1960-1969 (for the most part) which means that their parents grew up about 30 years earlier AND those people definitely wouldn't allow this. So I just try to imagine D-Bag artist guy coming home on winter break to like Idaho and everyone looking at him like the weirdo he is. This is a fun game to play when you are people watching. Oh and the guys and girls are on equal ground here; plus you throw in the international students who don't know any better and insanity ensues!
Now granted that AAU has both undergrad and graduate studies so is probably about 50-50 on which one looks stupider, BUT they should ask themselves a question: If I am a teacher listening to a half baked attempt at trying to explain your reasoning behind why you did something, how am I supposed to get past the fact that you have huge spacers in your ears, skinny jeans on, some fucked up hybrid faux hawk/mullet thing dyed orange, some stupid thrift store jacket shirt combo, and a preposterous beard AND take your argument seriously? Now I know that personally I don't dress to the 9's but I wear at least presentable clothes and take a shower.
It's sad to me that these people are more about the image of being an artist than actually just letting their work speak for them. They feel the need to look the part, because I guess it helps to validate them as the burgeoning artists that they hope to become. It bothers me because not only are my eyes being violated by them, but then I have to sit here and listen to the crock of shit that comes out of there mouths so that they feel intellectual enough about things also. One might go so far as to call these people hipsters, and you wouldn't be far off. So this me amigos, is why I despise these people and it makes me ashamed to call myself an artist/designer/cool guy/super hero.

Welcome Back!

Dare I say that 1991's Decade of Aggression by Slayer is THE GREATEST live album ever? Yes. Yes I will. If you disagree, tough titties. It perfectly captures everything about seeing Slayer live. The chaos, the danger, the pain, the shear volume, the intensity. It's all there. It feels like a god damn freight train running you over, backing up and doing it all over again. Unlike most live albums that I have heard (and it's quite a few) this one does capture a concert in audio form. I've owned this album since 2001 and have probably listened both discs easily 100 times each. There is just so much shear power on them it's the next best thing to being there.

While it is dated only in the sense that the first Gulf War is mentioned and because all of the material is pulled from Show No Mercy through Seasons In The Abyss, only because well none of their other albums had come out yet. It's a little heavy on the Seasons material only because they were promoting it at the time, but still, it's a banging album. The track selection is also quite excellent, in that every album is represented, not equally but certain tracks are positioned strategically to give more power (the intro to Hell Awaits still gives me shivers!).
Also what sets this album apart is the fact that well, it's live. Hmm, a live album that's not live you say? Those exist? Yes, by the truck full it's more common than one would imagine. Frampton Comes Alive, Rising In The East, Alive, various Rolling Stones albums, the list goes on and on. But it is very apparent this album is the real deal for two reasons: a) it says so in the liner notes b) you can hear obvious guitar and drum slip ups. That kind of stuff happens during concerts and they were honest enough to acknowledge it.
Now for the songs. Holy shit balls, are they awesome/intense/bad ass/extremely evil! To quote Scott Ian "If you go to hell, that's what they would be playing down there." The lightning fast transitions between South of Heaven, Raining Blood, Altar of Sacrifice, and Jesus Saves are so damn fast that there is literally no time to catch your breath just like at one of their shows. By the time that the album finally closes with Chemical Warfare, your ears are totally shot, again just like at one of their concerts (by the by; Slayer was and still is the LOUDEST concert I've ever seen.)
The star of this album though is one Mr. Dave Lombardo. The guy totally goes nuts here. He walks the fine line of chaos and control, just as everyone has said for years. Of course the other guys are no slouches either, but Lombardo is simply put, one of the main reasons to listen to this album.
So in summary if your really a fan of music by/download/burn/steal this album. Get a hold of it somehow. I know that Slayer is not everyone's cup of tea, but this album totally captures a concert experience the way it should be.

Grade A Turd.

Has anyone ever had more of an identity crisis than the guy to the right? Seriously. I mean look at the photo on the left of the two. I'm sure that it was taken around 1987ish because that's when Ozzy "discovered" Zakk Wylde. Then the other picture was taken around 20 or so years later. I know that people can change who they are a lot over that time span, but seriously; Zakk Wylde is such a poser. First he was a hair metal guy, then he was a southern rock dude, and now he's apparently a biker. Has there ever been someone who buys into to his own image more than this guy? The last time I thought that he was "cool" was when I was like 17; after that I was able to deduce that he is in fact a giant turd. I usually don't wish ill will on people but when he had that blood clot thing a while back; I thought to myself "Good. Serves him right for being such a douche."
Every interview with him he has to be loaded, has to unnecessarily swear, and call Ozzy and Sharon his "mom and dad" (for reals?). I actually read in Guitar Edge from a few years ago an interview with him and here is what he said with almost no paraphrasing

 Guitar Edge: How do you come up with new ideas?
 Zakk Wylde: I listen to music all the time. Like today, I was driving to the studio listening to "Whole Lotta Love" and I thought, "Man I'll just flip the riff around and poof! A new tune!" It's that simple.

Yes, it is that simple. That's how you go from being a good not great guitar player to a hack who plays eleventygillion notes of crap in a pentatonic scale. Oh yeah, and you have to make sure you criticize people who use wah wah when you yourself overuse said pedal.
Then there is the ego on this guy. I know that it's HIS band, but seriously he just let his bass player play on an album. Meanwhile the only time that the other guitar player (Nick Cantanese) has made an "official" appearance on an album was the unnecessary live album Alcohol Fueled Brewtality. That's it. How does that even resemble a band?
Anyways, going back to the image thing. Seriously now he thinks he's a biker...or a lesbian however you want to think about it; but anyways the only thing that more annoying than him sometimes are his fans, or brothers (See post from June regarding my feelings on that!). They also think that they are bikers because they wear stupid leather vests, disregard personal hygiene, overuse swear words, and drink too much. Nothing he does is stupid in their eyes, for real. Honestly, have these people ever read any of his "lyrics"? It's enough to want to punch yourself in the appendix to induce a rupture, so you will have to be sedated.
My last point to bitch about; his name. Zakk Wylde. Is there anymore of an 80s' glam name than that? Seriously, look at the spelling Zakk, has anyone ever spelt their name like that? Then theirs Wylde. Boy that's original. Do you know what his real name is? Jeffery Wielandt. Doesn't get much more bad ass than that eh? Well, now we know why he changed it to something a little less preposterous.
So yeah, I know that this was a bit on the rambling/bitching side but something had to be said. I think that his only appeal is to morons and 17 year olds (which may or may not be the same thing). Sadly he is one of the most influential guitar players of recent times, but is still influential. I don't know, maybe I would dislike him less if he didn't focus so heavily on his ridiculous image and play better. I mean I still own a good  number of his older albums and play them from time to time, but he's not my favorite. That is all.

Self Righteousness 101

There are two types of people that I have grown to realize that I dislike ( I say dislike, because I don't think that I really "hate" anyone). 1) Jazz snobs 2) Hippie/Hipster douchers. I will try in some depth to describe why I loathe these people in the following paragraphs.
     We'll start with the Jazz snobs. They are almost too easy that I should ignore them, but I won't, ney I can't. Oh and before I continue let me say: I enjoy Jazz. Just usually not the people who play it. Remember the scene in High Fidelity where Jack Black won't sell that guy the record he so badly wants? And their friend says that they were the under appreciated geeks in high school and now they can look down on people from their collective music perch? That's Jazz snobs in a quick blurb. If you can't get it, your dumb. If you listen to music that is simple, you have poor taste in music. If it's easily accessible, it's clearly terrible and you should revisit the previous two things mentioned. They also feel that because they have superior music knowledge (usually) they can look down their nose at you for a variety of reasons ranging from: playing in odd time signatures, overall music theory skills, flawlessly sight read, and improvise. It's kind of disgusting. I like listening to Jazz, mostly fusion or guitar based styles, but even those guys are kinda dicks. Some of my favorite players play Jazz and it's so obnoxious to listen to them talk, to the point if I heard them talk anymore than I do, I might not listen to them at all. Now this isn't to say that guys who play other styles of music should get free passes, but at least they don't carry a holier than thou attitude about everything. And you know what? It doesn't stop with just music; they need to be snobs about food, literature, wine/booze, film, and art. Seriously, who took a shit on these people when they were growing up?
     Up next, the Hippie/Hipster douchers. When I lived in North Dakota these people were rare, out in San Francisco they are almost EVERYWHERE! For the life of me I can't understand why someone would want to live a lifestyle like them. It's almost like the opposite of someone who needs to be up to date on the latest trends; they search for the next big obscure thing. Some crappy indie band that only 3 people have heard of, some crappy film that was made for $10,000, HORRIBLE clothes that looked to be in fashion 15 years ago. You name it they look for it, they take pride in it. It's as if they frown their stupid faces upon anything that might have money behind it. What makes them think that just because someone in a second hand t-shirt made a more honest song than a famous singer? Something that was made for $200 has just as much chance to suck as something that cost $200,000. I know a few people like this and it bothers me, more so because they are totally oblivious to the fact that they are like this.  Now, I certainly don't hate these people, but I wouldn't shed a tear if they were suddenly arrested and the deported under mysterious circumstances or anything. My last point on these turds is this: they feel that because they appreciate things that no one gives a shit about they know everything there is to know about art. This offends me as a burgeoning artist. If it came down to everyone hating my stuff or having one person in the world like it and it was a lame ass Hipster; I would rather everyone hate it. To me it seems that the only reason they claim to like art is so that they can seem rounded and cultural and blah, blah, blah. Art is not for everyone and by just pretending to appreciate it is offensive to artists everywhere.*
     One would think that these people should get together and be friends, hell they could become BFF's or something. They have enough in common. They are so bitter and contrived, they could hate everything together and it would make it easier for everyone else to dislike them.

*A lot of artists can fall in to this group. I might touch upon this at a later date.

Oh Canada

Canada sucks. I'm sorry but that's the truth, it has nothing to do with racism or any other type of ism, the fact of the matter is that that nation is filled with the dumbest people per square mile. What makes me qualified to say that you may ask? Well, living in North Dakota for a little over a dozen years and taking a 4 day trip up to America's hat qualifies me. For the longest time, I thought that only people in my (former) neck of the woods understood what makes these people so dumb, then when I was in middle school a little show called South Park came along and hit the nail right on the head. Also upon my last two trips back home it really hit me how dumb these people are. So what I decided I would do is list some of my "favorite" run ins with the few, the proud, the Canadian; in no particular order also. These close encounters take place everywhere from my day to day life, at work, on the phone, and even a fireworks store!

*Christmas 2008: This Canadian lady calls my work, I answer the phone and she asks if we carry a specific guitar pedal (I worked at a music store). I said yes and that it was about $350. She then asks if I could sell it to her for only $300. My manager agrees since it was a dog (an older product that hasn't been selling and just sits on the shelf). She gives me her credit card information and I ring it up for her, she then asks if someone at the store would be able to deliver it to her at her hotel. I told her that I would be able to since I was leaving the store in a bit and headed in the direction of her hotel. I drop it off, end of story right? Nope. I get to work the next day and what do I see? Yep, the pedal. Instantly I ask "What the hell is that doing back here?" My manager tells me that the lady returned it because she got a better deal on it from our cross town rivals. How much of a better deal you might ask? $10.

*Summer 2005: My friend Ray and I are at this fireworks outlet mall called Generous Jerry's (rip off!). We are minding our own business looking at explosives to buy. Then all of a sudden some Canadian guy walks past me and calls me a fag. We were both perplexed and then I looked down and realized that I was wearing my t-shirt that said INVADE CANADA! Harsh reaction, no?

*Fall 2007: Again, I was working at the music store, when these shenanigans happen. A guy decked from head to toe in a Canadian Tuxedo comes in, he asks me if we carried a particular microphone. I say no and he says okay. He then went into the bathroom and I thought that was it. Two minutes later; a guy calls and asks me the same exact question in the same way. Again I say no, then a few seconds later Super Canuck rolls out of the bathroom and is putting his phone away. Coincidence, I think not.

*Spring 2008: This is a shorty but a goodie. Mandi and I were on the way home from a dinner at my moms house when we come up to a red light. The only other car belongs to a dirty Canadian and he stops before the railroad tracks when there is clearly another spot after that. So I did what any normal person would do and I cut him off and got that spot. Stupid Canadian.

*Fall 2006: This one is a little different. A friend of mine at UND was Canadian and he was cool enough to let us rip on Canada to his face (for the most part); well, we were in a figure drawing class and  the jokes were flowing pretty good and he started to make some as well. Eventually this old bitch that most of didn't like chimed in and here was the conversation.

          Brandon: It's exciting, we just got guns up in Canada.
          Deb (old bitch): Really? You just got guns?
          Brandon: Yep, it's pretty cool.
          Deb: Well what's it like?
          Brandon: I don't know, we haven't got the bullets yet.
          Deb: Wow, really?

Normally I would say something about how dumb a Canadian is but, man that old bitch was dumb. I mean who falls for that shit? Jesus H man.

*Summer 2010: I'm at home hanging out with my mom and we had just come from Petco. We are driving down 32nd Avenue when something catches my eye. What is it you may ask? Well it was a Canadian PARKED in the middle of one of those little turn lanes to get into a restaurant. And what was he doing? Eating. That's right eating, essentially in the middle of a busy road.

These are just some my more notable run ins with the residents of America's hat aka America Jr. aka Canada. There are also all the incidents were they would just come down for the weekend and park their campers in some store's parking lot instead of checking into a hotel or camp ground or how they just sound boarder line retarded.

What's That Smell? Part Three: The Smelling

So, I thought that my interesting flying adventures were going to cool off for awhile, but I was wrong. Now I present the third installment of "What's That Smell?"

On the Thursday before I was to leave, I was enjoying a hamburger with my mom and our dogs. Then I got a call from a random ass phone number, I wasn't going to answer but for some reason I did; good thing too. It was an automated message telling me that my flight had been canceled and moved from Friday at 7a.m. to Friday at 5:15 a.m.; shitty but hey what could I do? So we changed plans to leave earlier and I just decided to stay up and hang out with one of my dogs, The Dude and watch The Godfather Part II since we were going to be leaving at like 2:30 a.m. Well, we left and arrived at the Fargo airport and discovered that the terminal doesn't open until 4 a.m. so we had to drive around for about 45 minutes with nothing but a few gas stations open. After we got in, I tried to check in and here's what happens. It says that my flight was at 5:15 p.m. I was totally pissed off because I knew that I hadn't heard wrong or written it down wrong, my flight was in the morning. So after standing around for like 15 minutes with no one coming to help me, I notice a piece of paper that was face down saying if you need help call this number. I did and the guy who I talked to sounded exactly like Matthew McConaughey.
So I'm talking to McConaughey and surprisingly he was helpful, he even said "alright, alright, alright" when he was trying to get me on an earlier flight. He even said that since it was their fault for the mix up I was going to get a voucher for a meal in the Chicago airport. Well, after that we left Fargo and went home. I slept for like three hours before we headed back so I could fly out at noon. It was awesome.
The flight from Fargo to Chicago was pretty good, except I was sitting next to a guy who had no real urge to get off the plane and the flight attendant said that my flight to Chicago would board in the wrong section of the airport. Once I got off the plane, I was first in search of my gate. Then I was in search of my meal voucher. I found the gate and then proceeded to talk to a guy named Darwood. He told me that there was no record of a voucher and couldn't figure out what I was talking about. So after about 10 minutes of this back and forth, he "finds" it. The total? $5.  Wow, just enough to buy nothing in an airport. Plus he gives me a seat in the last row AGAIN, only this time in the aisle. A few hours later I was all set to board the plane and was stopped by the lady checking me in.
  
     Lady: "Are you traveling alone?"
     Me: "Yeah..."
     Lady: "Well, lets get you a better seat than!"
     Me: "Okay."
     Lady: "Here you go. More leg room, have a nice flight!"

I was bumped up 16 rows and I got a window seat, only it was next to the emergency exit (For some reason, I felt the urge to just pull the leaver, just to see what happens, messed up I know). Now for the tie into the title. Some butch lesbo had some nasty smelling/looking veggie platter and then I smelt what could pass off as a used diaper, only it turned out to be BBQ that someone was eating two rows behind me. Yummy? Plus the in flight movie was The Bounty Hunter. It was so bad that I could notice the lady sitting next to me watching my movie on my Mac without sound, it was the rest of The Godfather Part II, so who could blame her?
Well, that's all for right now. My next travels won't be until around Christmas/New Years, so we'll see what happens then.

What's That Smell? Part Two: Not As Smelly, But Still!

So to continue with the tale of "What's That Smell?", I'm going to do something different.  Since nothing of real interest happened on the way back from San Francisco to Los Angeles to Minneapolis to Grand Forks; I'm going to fast forward to my most recent (as of me writing this July 2010) air travels. This trip went from San Francisco to Chicago to Fargo. Not as exciting as the first tale, but still it's my blog thing so deal with.
Alrighty, so I start by going riding the B.A.R.T. to the airport by myself, which was kinda nerve wracking just because I felt I was cutting things close with time and I was also afraid I might have gotten on the wrong train. Obviously that didn't happen (duh). I get to the airport and ride the air train thing with no idea where my terminal is, because on the air train all it says that Terminal 1 is for international flights, Terminal 2 is under construction, and Terminal 3 was for domestic flights. Guess which one I chose. If you guessed Terminal 3, you're right and you're also a dumb ass like me. Terminal 3 was not the correct answer, so I went to ask some random employee at the airport where I could find the American Airlines terminal(s); she points in some arbitrary direction. Awesome. Just what you need when you're strapped for time. Lucky for me some guy at Delta was nice enough to tell me that I had to go to Terminal 1 and it was only like a 2 minute walk.
Finally I get into the American Airlines terminal and what do I see? A line. A big ass line. While I was waiting to get checked in I notice that the ladies working at the counter were older, about middle aged and they were smaller. This meant that they were not strong enough to properly pick up and set down the luggage so what do they do? They just chuck that shit on there as hard as they can, almost in a competitive manner. Then laugh about in front of the people who gave them the bags. Also I notice/overheard a conversation between an airlines lady and some chick who acted like her shit didn't stink. It was to the extent of the airlines lady ruining this woman's day by telling her that she can't board the plane because it was going to take off in about 3 minutes. That's right this lady got mad at the airlines lady because she was just now checking in 3 minutes before the plane, you know, flies away.
After the fun of checking in, I get to go through security. These people were total DICKS! They were belittling every person who came through there, including me. The best was a guy who went through the metal detector and sets it off. He then takes off all of the metal stuff and puts it in a little bucket and tries to walk through the metal detector AGAIN, with the METAL. Some peoples kids. Plus there were quite a few random people cutting through the line. There were two really ugly sticks with big nasty fake boobs who thought that because they were showing up fashionably late for their flight, they could cut to the head of the line. Then there was a mom with what seemed like an army of small annoying children who cut in front of everyone. And my personal favorite, A family whose daughter forgot her passport and had her friend scan it in and email it to her so they could show security and guess what. IT WORKED! Once I pass through this hell hole, I race down to find my gate and discover that I didn't have an actual seat yet and that they had been calling my name for like 30 minutes. Just before I board the flight I realize that I am hungry in the wrong place. I bought 1 sandwich and 1 small bottle of water for $11. And that sandwich sucked balls!
Finally I'm on the plane and my seat is in the very last row in by the window in front of the bathrooms. Yey. This flight didn't suck that bad, I mean I watched Predator on my Mac, which attracted a lot of viewing by guys who were waiting for the bathroom. Plus there were about 3 screaming babies around me and the girl who was next to me slept pretty much the whole way and would wake up to yawn and would fill the air with stink ass breath, other than that it was okay. We land and it takes what seems like 3.5 hours to get off the plane. It seemed like people were just standing around chatting instead of getting off the plane. Once I managed to actually get off of the plane, I had to rush to find a bathroom or I was going to pee all over the place. As I was racing through the airport, I ran into the guy who took my spot as one of the guitar instructors at my old job. Small world. Even smaller was that he was on the same flight to Fargo as me.

So before the last leg of this journey began, I had to go to the bathroom (again!) and while I was in the bathroom right next to my gate, the power hungry turd at the gate had apparently been calling my name a lot in the 3 minutes that I was in there. I go up to the counter and he asks me if I'm some name that doesn't sound like mine. He then deduces that I am the same person whose name he was calling. Then he tells me "Where were you? I've been calling your name for 10 minutes?! I was about to give your seat away." No joke. Well I get on the plane and I am greeted by a woman who looked like Olivia Munn, if she gained about 15 pounds, and was Russian, and was a bitch. Oh and I am also greeted by the stink of ass on the plane (There's the tie in to the first one!!!).
I'm totally sure that I will have more crazy flight stories, I mean I'm due to fly back to San Francisco from my mom's house in a week or so (again as of this writing). Plus I plan on coming home to visit twice a year and who knows how much I'll have to as real adult, versus the one that I am now!

What's That Smell? Part One

Flying is something that I haven't done much of in my life. The most I flew was when I was a child, when my family would move from air base to air base, and this only happened a few times at most. So when I was able to attend the NAMM show in January of 2009, it marked the first time that I was going to be flying in like 15 years or so. I didn't remember much about it from when I was a kid, except for the fact that when the plane was taking off it felt as though I was going to fall out of my seat. So I thought that it would be interesting how different of an experience it would be as an adult. Well, here is that tale.
So the first flight was from Grand Forks to Minneapolis and the flight left at something like 5 A.M. and it was 456 degrees below zero when I left. I said goodbye to Mandi, as my boss Matt and I went through the fantastic security.  After that I was sitting in the terminal waiting to board the plane and trying not to fall asleep even though I was nervous as to how the flight would be, I then remembered something; I forgot my god damn sunglasses. This was a big deal because when I was in high school I had scratched my Corneas by sleeping with my contacts in and as a result I have become somewhat light sensitive, even to the point that I have to wear them outside on overcast days. But anyways, this was just what I needed to start this epic god damn journey off.
Eventually we make it into this state of the art vehicle, and I was let down by its size. Eventually the plane starts moving and then we take off. I closed my eyes and thought I was going to feel the same thing I felt as a kid, but to my surprise nope. Nothing. So far so good. Then we get to Minneapolis and eventually board the flight to Los Angeles, this is a whole other ball of wax. It seemed like a ton of people were on the flight and I assumed that I was gonna be squished in. Well, it couldn't have started out better.
I'm sitting in the second row right by a bathroom AND there is no one sitting between me and the other guy. The plane took off and again no problems, I was thinking that this was gonna be an okay experience; I'd just sit back listen to my Zune and play some Mario on DS. Well, that's how like 3 hours of the flight went. Then all of a sudden it smelt like someone took the nastiest shit in the long smelly history of smelly shits, and this is were sitting right by the bathroom started to backfire on me.
I plugged my nose, but it was no use. This abomination was weaving through the fibers in my sweatshirt and going right for my nose. Next thing I know, one of the bathrooms is closed and a line is forming for the open one. I'm sitting there trying not to pass out form the deadly gas on the plane, when I happen to look up and see this guy who is looking around and he just happens to look at me. Who was this mysterious stranger you might ask yourself? Two words: Shia. Labeouf. That's right Shia Labeouf was not only on this flight but he was standing in line to use the head because of some selfish asshole (I later confirmed this with Matt, to make sure he saw the same guy and we both agreed that it was him).
After Shiagate, the next horrible event happened. That empty space in the middle was filled up. The guy sits down obviously bummed that he had to be moved to ground zero. He then tells us something interesting. There was no shitter on the plane, instead what it was, was that an old lady had thrown up all over the place. By all over the place I mean; herself, the chair, the chair in front of her, then the floor, and finally she ANNIHILATED the bathroom. Upon hearing this I noticed that they kept opening the door a bit to check on her and I saw that it was all over the walls. Gross. Even worse, they didn't clean it up on the floor; they just threw a towel on the ground.


We land in Los Angeles and it is 80 degrees and smells like vomit.

To be continued...

Nicolas Cage Is Totally A Prostitute!!!

I say that in the nicest way possible, I mean for all I know he doesn't charge money to do the hibbidy dibbidy, but with the amount of terrible movies he does he sure fits the bill. To be fair though, before I labeled him a hooker, I checked all the definitions from Dictionary.com and guess what? Here is the #3 definition in the noun form: A person who willingly uses his or her talent or ability in a base and unworthy way, usually for money. So there you go, Nicolas Cage is in fact a prostitute. What separates him from other actors and actresses you may ask? Well if you do some simple sleuthing on Google or any similar search engine, you can type in something like "Nicolas Cage broke" or something like that and you will be taken to links that have these stories about how much money he owes and all the redonkulous crap that he has spent his money on!
If you stop and think about it, honestly how many movies has he done that are actually any good? I would say Raising Arizona and The Rock (and that's really no thanks to him!). Also if you go back like 15 years ago, he won the Academy Award for Best Actor in Leaving Las Vegas. Then as the years go by he starts doing all kinds of terrible shitty movies; that if you were unfortunate enough to see, you just can't unsee. Now granted that every actor/actress does work that is below their normal output but c'mon. C'mon. Look at some of these steaming piles of rhino turds!  Snake Eyes, The Wicker Man, Ghost Rider, Bangkok Dangerous, Knowing, Next, and Lord of War. I mean seriously why would anyone do these "films" if they weren't hard up for cash, like $40 million dollars worth of cash!
 Speaking of $40 million, what kinda crap do you have to buy in order to blow that much money? Well here is a list of some of the stuff that he just had to have: 22 cars (which includes 9 Rolls Royce's), 1 dinosaur skull that cost $276,000, a castle in Germany, an island, plus like 6 loans in excess of $18 million! If you make like $40 million a year, why do you need to take out a loan, much less SIX!?
So because he never took any money management classes we as the general public are forced to put up with these shenanigans on a yearly basis. And for anyone who pays to see his movies aside from the previously mentioned passable ones a) shame on you, and b) you have essentially engaged in prostitution and should be fined or thrown in jail. These films look so bad (I say look because aside from The Rock and Raising Arizona and maybe 1 or 2 others I haven't seen any of his "films") I wouldn't even watch them on television for free.

No Habla

One of the perks of living in an area such as San Francisco, is the bizarro television that we get out here. It's a combo of American, Korean, Spanish, Chinese, and a few other languages/cultures. This is a step in a new direction, considering where I come from, North Dakota. In North Dakota the only real imports we get are CBC (Canada) and sometimes the BBC (England). CBC, what can you say about that really? They show reruns of The Simpsons and Arrested Development, with NHL games, and their "news". Here, in San Francisco it's like stepping into an episode of The Twilight Zone.
Before I continue, I am going to reveal a personal fact about myself, here it goes: I only speak English. Okay in high school I took two years of German. Why? Because I'm an idiot that's why. Anyways, I have almost no clue what happens in any of these shows dialogue wise, but for me they are still interesting and entertaining to watch. The channel that I find myself watching the most out of the batch is a Spanish language station called Estrella TV. I don't know what people who actually speak the language think of this channel, but for me it's interesting to say the least. Usually I just watch, since again I only speak English, because I'll be playing guitar with my headphones on. But when I do listen to it, it's kinda cool. There's a Mexican Jerry Springer, a Mexican Hard Copy, and even a Mexican American Idol styled show.
But for me the show that takes the cake is a show called Aque No Puedes. I gather that it's like Family Feud, in that there are teams of people who are some how connected. Except that they do goofy ass skits and stunts, and sprinkle in some skanky looking dancers into. It seems to have comedic overtones to it but, I don't know what the deal with Spanish humor is, because it seems that all you have to do is say a few words than make a noise with your mouth and people go ape shit! This happens quite often on this show, but it's still interesting to watch regardless.
If you happen to have some time in your day that you really don't mind tossing away do yourself a favor and check this channel out. It definitely has the vibe that Mexico borrowed American shows and replaced everyone involved with super short pervy Mexican dudes and teamed them up with tall Mexican models. Again, very Twilight Zone!

Random Complaint

In the brief period of my existence, I have been fortunate enough to meet a few "famous" people. The first famous person that I met was one of my all time favorite musicians, Alex Skolnick. I was nervous for two reasons. 1) because I am such a big fan, and 2) I have always heard that you should never meet people that you admire because they will end up letting you down and they'll be jerks and blah, blah, blah. Fortunately enough for me the experience could not have gone better (and I got to meet him again a few months later, again cool!). Since then I have met a few other some what famous people, and the coolest (so far) would probably be comedian David Cross. I got to meet him and he signed my copy of his book, good times. Going back to that old adage about how you shouldn't meet your heroes and what not, I think that's a load of stinky shit. If you meet someone you look up to, it's usually in a public place and more than likely they will be cordial and polite, unless they are having the worst day they've had in a while. For me, I would say that the worst place to encounter "famous" people is in the digital sense.
When I was a kid I sent a letter to Jerry Rice, when he played for the 49ers; weeks turned to months and then sure enough I had completely forget that I sent that letter. Then one day POOF! A letter from the 49ers/Jerry Rice, like 2 years later. I had no concept about how busy or important his time was, but I was happy that I got a response. About a year after that, I inspected the contents a little more and what did I notice? The photo that they sent back with his autograph was one of those printouts. It pissed me off! Fast forward about ten years or so and snail mail has been replaced by email. Now what used to take weeks, months, or years can be replied to in minutes or at the latest days. It's not even just email, you have Facebook, Myspace, and whatever other things I have forgotten. But even with that, these people still take their sweet ass time to respond to an individual. I even read on a TV personalities website that he "...doesn't respond to all messages, but reads them all..." I see that and it seems like roundabout way of saying: "Hey! I attribute all my success to you people, but I don't want to interact with you!". Lame.
My mom is not the most tech-savvy person in the world but she knows how to check her email, and she does it at least once a day. Most of these people, being as busy as they are, own the most hi tech phones and gadgets; how can you not get/read/respond to a message that someone sends you? Now, I am by all accounts not nearly as "important" as some of the people, but if some one takes the time to email, message, or call me, I find the time to respond to them. Here is a brief example; in my first semester of Grad School, I had a project that I was working on in the style of designer David Carson. Carson is a big shoot/legend in the design world. My instructor suggested that I contact him and see what kind of suggestions he could lend me. My class was on Wednesday afternoons. I emailed him that night. Three weeks later, my project was due. Going on 8 months (as of me writing this) later, no reply. Does this mean that I don't look up to David Carson anymore? Nope. In fact my view of him hasn't changed really, except for the fact that he has CONTACT information on is personal website, which is apparently useless! This incident has not made me like him less, I just happen to be a little put off by it, that's all.
Some of these people go off about how much fans mean to them but they can't respond to them. If they are that important to you, you make time to respond to them. Otherwise you're just talking out of your ass and that's when you are in trouble. On the flip side of the coin, they are just people. People who are entitled to privacy, etc... BUT to the same token, they chose to be in the lime light and in a sense, this comes with the job.

The Album Nobody Liked.

This is me reflecting on an album that came out just over seven years ago (which totally blows my mind!). The album in question is from one of my favorite bands, Metallica and it is their 2003 album St. Anger. The album came out and was of course successful if for no other reason than that it was a Metallica album and also because it was their first since 1999s' S&M. Of course after it had been out for a while, the haters came out and it soon became trendy to rip on the album and the band. I feel that I am in a minority who actually thoroughly enjoy the record. This is going to be me explaining why the album is not quite the piece of shit that everyone seems to believe it is.
Okay first things first: the main flaws that people bitch about on this record 1)the drums sound like Lars is bashing on a metal trash can, & 2) no guitar solos. For starters the drums don't sound like metal trash cans, the snare drum does. That's it. It sounds like that because the actual snare is turned off and Lars' drumsticks are in fact metal. So that's that. Secondly, yes there are no rip roaring guitar solos per say BUT if anyone cared to actually watch the film that came out documenting among other things the making of this record, Some Kind of Monster, you would have picked up the bit of dialogue where Kirk says he is "...not interested in playing traditional guitar solos anymore...". So yes he is not tearing it up but he is playing some very subtle and tastefully done "lead" parts.
Now on to the actual songs. THEY ARE GOOD!. I repeat THEY ARE GOOD!. Metallica has in fact entered into a stage where their back catalogue is so popular that most casual fans are not interested in hearing newer material, which is sad for them. Of course there is nothing on here that resembles a "hit single" but then again there was nothing of the sort on their first four albums, but they are now regarded as classics. Also this is much different than anything they had done before. Yes they are longer and have familiar song structures as previous albums, but for the first time in about 15 years they had introduced "rifforama" into the songs. Also they experimented with a new tuning. For the most part the album is tuned drop D 1 whole step down. The riffs are just as heavy as anything that they had done in quite some time, and flow very well. The only downside are some of the lyrics. This is attributed to the fact that they were being written by the band collectively. Other than that the songs ARE GOOD!
I strongly feel that people did not give this album a fare shake because of a few reasons. 1) Some people just can't give something new and different a shot. 2) Most people were not actually listening to the album themselves. They heard it was bad, therefore they thought it was bad without listening to it personally. 3) Some people are just turds who love to shit on things because it's what they do. They are so jaded (for some reason) and can't like anything. They need to find fault in everything. In this case it was the drums, no solos, the tuning, the production, the artwork, etc... Nothing is good enough for them so they just find the need to hate on it without giving it a fare shake.
Now because Metallica listens to their fans and takes their opinions into consideration, all of the tunes that they played from this album have been dropped from their set list and are not likely to make a comeback. It's a shame because in Some Kind of Monster, we were able to see the time and energy that went into crafting these tunes, and because of a few vocal turd bombs these songs have been packed away, probably for good.

Play Ball Bitches!

Baseball, it's awesome. After football it's my favorite sport and recently I went to my second professional game again between my Minnesota Twins and the Oakland A's. The Twins lost and that was sad, they put up a fight but came up short but won the series 2 games to 1. Todays tale is again about the experience that we had along the way, so sit back and enjoy!
I should have known that it was going to be an interesting day because right off the bat (no pun intended, wait yes!) at the BART station I look up and see a quasi graffiti on the ceiling type thing and what does it say? "CHRIS MOFFETT IS A PHEDOPHILE", complete with a creepy smiley face. That set the tone for the day.
So about 35-45 minutes later, we get there and surprise surprise; The Coliseum is still a shit hole! But for about $35 each, Mandi and I were sitting in the second row (seats 3&4) just to the left of the Twins bullpen, banging seats if I do say so myself. So we're sitting there watching Carl Pavano and Kevin Slowey play catch about 10 yards from us (really cool), then all of a sudden a bunch of dumb ass kids start to flood the front row fence trying in vain to get the players attention by yelling "Hey #48!" or "Hey can I have the ball?". Surprisingly none of this works. Then the game starts and no one is in front of us or next to us which is awesome, then the afternoon took a strange turn.
First Oakland's skankiest mom and her two dumb ass kids show up and sit next to us, or should I say me cause I take the bullet for the team. They get like everything that one could imagine from pizza, to pop, to stuffed animals. Then in the top of the second the next wave of dip shits arrive. They are in the form of 2 dumb ass guys and their 2 equally retarded wives/girlfriends. One guy thinks that he is an expert in baseball but then will negate his expertise by saying something to the effect of "How do they cut the grass?" This is tolerable until our resident expert takes his shirt off for no reason and what do I see after he does this? His back has been waxed and it's growing back in. Yummy. Every time a foul ball is hit anywhere in our general vicinity he says something like "Dude, if he had just hit the ball at more of 5 degree angle, it would be right on top of us." Bravo. Meanwhile the whole time those two dumb ass kids keep getting up because they think that if they bother the ball boy enough he will give their ball to the Twins bullpen for them to sign it, and what would you know, they get shot down every time. So much that one of them is on the verge of tears (love it). And despite the fact that those little bastards keep interrupting our experience by walking in front of us, Mom of the Year does nor says anything to them about it, but finally notices that we are extremely annoyed and tells them to sit in some empty seats so that they can be crushed once again.
Fast forward to the bottom of the 7th inning. The geniuses in front of us have been talking to their friends who were sitting in a shitty section of the stadium all day, then sneak them into the front row with them. This is where it gets more interesting/annoying. There fat turd friend is now sitting where Mr. Backwax was sitting, Instantly, I hate him. Now this next part is where every annoying version of a fan on T.V. comes out of the screen and into real life. The fat turd heckles one of the Twins pitchers (Alex Burnett) relentlessly, and I know it's his right as a fan to be vocal but still; then another Twins pitcher named Jon Rauch walks by us but he says nothing to him. I think its because Rauch is like 7 feet tall and about 275 pounds. Anyways, then out of nowhere a security guard shows up and this more or less is their exhcange:

SG: How did you get those seats?
FT: I bought the tickets, I've been here the whole game.
SG: Really? Cause I know for a fact that you've been in that upper section all game.
FT: No man I got the tickets right here.
SG: I don't care.
(At this point he some how pulls the tickets out of his ass, when none of them had the tickets because Hairy back guy and his lady were supposed to sit next to us the whole time with their other two idiot friends sitting in the 1 and 2 seats.)
SG: Well, if I have to come back here again, I'm bringing my friends and there will be no discussion.
FT: You won't have to come back. I promise cross my heart, hope to die!

The security guard leaves and instantly the fat turd and his friends start laughing about the incident with a much more cocky tone. Then the fat turd's mutant woman says "Wow, and that was only mild heckling from him." and "See, next time I tell you to shut up, shut up."
Both sadly and thankfully the game is nearing the end. Super Skank and her bastard offspring decide to leave the game an inning early and AGGGGGGAIN cut in front of us to leave, but it was the last time so I let it slide. Then about 15 minutes later, the game ends and we leave and notice one last thing: we both have ridiculous sunburns.
So ends another season of the Twins coming out to Oakland to play the A's. They are 1-1 in the two games we have seen and next May,June, or July when they come back again; we'll be there to see them and all the freak ass people who are there!

If I never hear this again, I'd be happy.

Brother. I don't have any. Never have, never will. I can't stress how dumb it sounds when I read or hear someone calling someone else their brother, when clearly they are not. This is no more evident than in metal/hard rock where guys love to call each other brother. What the crap? Seriously? We like the same bands and all of a sudden we're brothers? I don't think so. I wouldn't even call a friend that I have known for most of my life a brother, for one simple reason and it comes courtesy of Damon Wayans in Major Payne "I AM NOT, YOUR DAMN BROTHER!" So please, never refer to me as your brother. If I were your brother, we would have the same parent(s) and it would not sound so redonkulous.

Can I get Cheese on that?

Where: Kan Zaman Cafe, San Francisco
When: July 2009

So back in July of '09 several of us went down to Haight so that we could show a few friends around who just moved to the area. We got hungry and were looking for a place to eat. Some of the group wanted to eat at Cha Cha Cha's; but ultimately we ended up eating at Kan Zaman. From what I gathered, it was a Middle Eastern type of restaurant and had an interesting vibe to boot. Short ass tables that were super cramped, tons of beads, and Middle Eastern art on the walls. But it also came with dumb ass servers. I ordered something, can't remember what exactly. I remember that it was something cold and in my stupid mind I thought "Hey, this sounds good, it might be better with cheese!" Here is an almost verbatim transcript of what happened between me and the server:

Me: Hey I want to get (whatever I ordered), but I can I get that with cheese?
Server: Cheese?
Me: Yeah, just add cheese onto it.
Server: I don't even think that we have cheese.
Me: Well, if you don't it's okay...
Server: I'll check in the back.

Every answer the server gave me was complete with sass and bitchiness. So after awhile, we get our food and we're eating and it's okay. I notice that I don't have cheese on my thingy that I'm eating, but my friends fiance DOES. Her food came with cheese. So to sum up the events so far: 1. I asked for cheese 2. Server looks at me like I'm some sort of weirdo 3. I don't get cheese 4. My friends fiance gets cheese.

So when it comes time to pay the bill and tip, things become interesting. She sees that we are done for awhile but doesn't come over, then when she does makes a stink because we want to pay dutch and then proceeds to take her sweet ass time ringing us up despite the fact that she has a total of 1 table: us. So I give her virtually no tip and then leave, without getting my god damn cheese.

Guitar Heroes (Real Ones)

***This is just my opinion***

This might be a some what bold statement, but I am going to go out on a limb and say that in this day and age there are no guitar heroes. Let me clarify, there are no NEW guitar heroes. All of the guitar heroes of the world and any genre of music are from yesteryear. Don't get me wrong here, there are tons of guitar players who are talented no question about it, but to me a guitar hero is one who makes you want to pickup the instrument and learn a new song, new technique, or just to learn how to play period.
When I taught guitar lessons every kid came in and wanted to learn how to play like Angus Young, Kirk Hammett, Jimi Hendrix, Eddie Van Halen, Jimmy Page, and a few others. The point is that a few of those guys are currently producing new work, but for the most part they are guys from the past who haven't done anything in sometime for various reasons. They were the whole package. They looked cool, wrote awesome songs, and could really play. Now an days the guys you see in the magazines can essentially just do tricks like sweep picking and tapping (which is sort of ironic due to the fact that those are things that the older guitar heroes taught them), they don't write good songs (it's subjective, but that's what I think), and they look like tools.
Now just because I say that there aren't any new guitar heroes, that doesn't mean that there aren't any great/good new(er) guitar players. They are everywhere you just need to use your ears. They just lack what the greats of yesteryear had. Those guys were and still are able to inspire people to play and get better.

As much as they might have had no intention of it, or if people want to disagree about it, I think that the last guitar heroes were some of the Grunge players. After that, it's been all downhill.

Neighbors: Part 2: The Revenge

And now for the thrilling conclusion to the "Neighbors" saga.

When we last left off, our new neighbors had a neon "BAR" sign and we were not sure if they were going to be total tools or just people who were trying to be ironic or something of that nature. Well, in real short order we found out that it was the first one plus more.
Because we live in California, we have concrete walls for the support walls and you would naturally assume that it would be hard to hear people through one correct? Wrong. First off our bedroom wall is right next to the bedroom on the other side and there are also concrete walls on the other side of the bedrooms; so at the very least there is one concrete wall and at the most three concrete walls between us and them. Regardless of the number we can hear them loud and clear. Until recently it was every Thursday through Sunday we could hear their "awesome" parties along with the skanks that they have next door. Every time that we would call Courtesy Patrol (apartment security) they would do one of two things a) pretend no one was home or b) act like they just got home and say there was not party. Sneaky bastards. As the kids on the streets say: it's on.
So after talking to the head of the Courtesy Patrol we learned somethings about how they work. If we would call and they walk by and hear nothing they were powerless, but if we call and tell them to come inside our apartment and they hear them, then they will do something about. After awhile, they adapted to this. Sneaky bastards. We still had one more ace up our sleeve.
Later when we talked to Courtesy Patrol for what seemed like the 932nd time, the told us to call the police and then call them. They also told us that every time that they have to go over there and talk to them, with the police, that they filled out reports, and after a while they would get the boot. Well the police went over there like 4 times and after a while they adapted again and just moved to the other side of the building so we can barely hear them. Sneaky bastards. As of this we haven't figured out a next step.
Aside from those shenanigans, we have had the pleasure(?) of seeing them up close and personal. Here is a brief run down of what we have observed in no particular order: some of them wear ridiculously short shorts and love to wear them outside with no shirt, one of them plays guitar and loves to sit out and serenade the ladies as they walk by (he is awful), they were moving a mirror inside and broke it;then begun to yell at each other in what sounds like Spanish about whose fault it was, they leave their door open so that they can let the whole neighborhood hear how awesome they are (at anytime of the day), one of them has a walkie talkie phone and loves to sit on his steps and let everyone hear his conversations, and they love to play terrible music super loud....That about sums it up.
These are just some of the things that we have endured from these skid stains. That didn't include all the times where we were forced to listen to people yelling CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! while we were trying to sleep at 2 A.M. on Monday morning or the nasty skanks that they would bring home cackling like hyenas. As I said we were/are able to hear them through 1-3 concrete walls and also over the T.V. Thus concludes the tales involving our d-bag/turd stain neighbors, for now.

Red Squares

Two posts in the same day? Maui Wowie! This one is just something that I felt I needed to get off of my chest. It involves a heaping helping of bullshit and a dishwasher. Well not the dishwasher, but definitely the bullshit part. It happened on the last day of class in my last class of the semester. For anonymity purposes we will refer to the class as Auditory Illiteracy. So here it goes....
I'm walking to class feeling pretty good/content with what is going to happen: a final portfolio review of the semesters work. I'm feeling pretty good about my stuff and not letting the hugeness of the moment get to me. I ended up going first and presented my stuff, I felt it went well, and my teacher pointed out some good stuff that I did in the presentation. The whole class goes and then we are given a little envelope with three green squares and one red square. The objective is for us to do a pee to peer review type thing. You "secretly" put squares into others envelope, obviously green=good; red=not so good. You have to put all four of them into some one's envelope. Afterwards you leave the room so that the teacher can observe the work without prying eyes and the teacher would then look at the contents of the envelope, with him and the owner of the envelope being the only ones aware of its contents.
In the hall some classmates and myself are killing time waiting to go in the room. We are saying things like "I wonder what's in my envelope" and wondering about some other things. I saw the teacher leave for a second so I popped back in to put something in my backpack, and I see him come back in, so I tell him that I just had to do that; he tells me no big deal that he was done. Since we are the only ones in the class, he tells me that he looked at the contents of my envelope and said "I don't completely agree with what they said". I thought, "okkkkayyyy". I was expecting to get like a shit ton of greens and thought that he was saying something about that, WRONG. I open the little envelope and what do I see? FOUR red squares and ZERO green ones. What does that mean? Well, there are like 10-11 people in the class. That means that I got about 40% of the red squares. It means that my classmates don't like my work. Despite the fact that all along they have been telling me the exact opposite. Even when we were all back in the room my teacher said "You guys made some strange decisions". I later conferred this with my wonderful fiance who assured me not to worry about this, and we talked about the strange inter classroom politics that go into this ( that is a whole other thing ). Then later in the day I also conferred with two classmates whose opinions I trust and value. They told me the same thing. My work doesn't suck, it improved a lot over the course of the semester, and that I was crazy for dwelling on this. So after I thought about it, I realized that they were all right and those spineless bastards who didn't have the balls to tell me what they thought the whole semester can suck it! I know that my work is good, my teacher knows that my work is good and how hard I worked on things, and in the end those are the only people that I need to please. Myself first, and then the people who give me grades.

P.S. I passed the class, but as of me writing this, grades are not out yet.

2 Bands, 1 Record label, & 1 State

California or Calfiornication? Both are great albums by two great bands. Despite whatever I write here, it is all going to come down to personal opinion. In 1999 Warner Brothers recording artists, Mr. Bungle and Red Hot Chili Peppers both released albums, Mr. Bungle released California, while Red Hot Chili Peppers released Californication. What many people are not aware of is the fact that because of RHCP's stature over Mr. Bungle, Mr. Bungle's album was pushed back for a few reasons. 1. They were/are a much bigger group, 2. Their albums have similar titles, and 3. Because RHCP had personality issues with Mr. Bungle.
So for long while I had only listened to Californication and thought it was a great album, but it always bothered me because it felt like the Chili Peppers sacrificed who they were for the critical acclaim and record sales. Then about 6-7 years ago I began to get into all projects that involved Mike Patton, and the latest one I have acquired is California by Mr. Bungle. I then found out about the back stories involved and figured I would compare the two. Here is my take.
Californication is a beautiful record, but it is the beginning of a band moving away from their sound and who they were for the better part of 15 years. It is too slick and inspired by one person. Its not what I love about the Chili Peppers, and it was the beginning of the global ass kissing of John Fruscante's playing. Meanwhile, California, is the definition of controlled chaos. Strange beautiful songs that boarder on the insane and are more true to who the musicians that make up the band, than trying to get record sales. So for that alone, I would pick California.
Then you have the whole power play move on the part of RHCP. Getting another bands album pushed back= lame. Then you have Anthony Kedis' strange hatred of Mike Patton, because he feels that he is basically a copy cat= lame. Anyone who is able to use their ears, is able to tell the difference between the two. One (Kedis) has had the same vocal approach for about 12 years or so, while the other (Patton) has continuously developed and moved forwards. Honestly, if you out the two next to each other, Patton mimicked Kedis for maybe a year at the most in the late 80s'. Since then they haven't even been in the same league.
Then the last part of the lame factor, is the fact that Kedis went out of his way to throw Mr. Bungle off of any show that featured the two groups together. The retaliation by Patton & co. was hilarious; it involved them coming out at one of their own shows dressed up as RHCP and playing their songs, and faking heroin overdoses.
So taking all of that into consideration, I would have to give my nod to California. It is an album that is truer to the band that made it, it is honest, and adventurous all at the same time. But with all of that rambling taken into consideration, I would encourage you to make your own decision.

Adventures at The Warfield

This past week, I got the opportunity to see one of my all time favorite bands play; Faith No More. Despite the fact that the band had been broken up for a little more than a decade by the time they got back together last year, they sounded incredible and also they seemed to really enjoy doing being a band again. But this isnt so much about them as the experience itself, which was interesting in itself.
To start the evening off, we listen to these two typical San Francisco stoner philosophers who seem to have everything solved and know all. All of their solutions to life's problems seem to involve doing nothing and smoking pot for months on end; in any combination. So yeah,then the first band that came on was called The White Trash Debutants and the funniest thing about them was that some dude who was successfully tanked by this point (about 30 minutes into the night) yelled at the lead singer "Show us your penis!" Why was that funny? Oh that's right, the singer was a tranny. Anyways we sit through that dribble and then the second act comes on. The El Cerito Cheerleaders. That's right, cheerleaders. High school ones at that. It was funny that Faith No More would get a support act like that and that they would put them on after a real band. It was a little on the peder side of things that grown ass men were cat calling these girls who ranged from 14-16.(This was the living embodiment of the FNM tune "Edge of the World")
Anyways, so after that we moved to a different side of the floor so Mandi could see the stage and what do we find waiting for us? A couple of drunk guys who had porn on them. That they brought from home. To a concert. Then some guy says to them "You guys brought porn?!" To which they tell him, "Hey you never know when you will need it!" and "It's a free country, I'm just expressing my rights as an American!". Then a security guy notices these shenanigans, and tells them to knock it off, to which they pass the porn off on that guy and HE gets in trouble for it! Thankfully these guys disappear into the sea of people.
Then about 10 minutes before FNM comes on, the floor gets super crowded and all of San Francisco's tallest people are here. To top it off a stocky/buff guy and his skanky looking girlfriend are blocking the stairs so no one can get in or out and he bitches to people that he can't move. Where do these wonderful people end up at? Right in front of me. And by right in front of me, I mean so close I could count the stitches on the collar of his shirt. Plus he knows that I am right behind him and that a wall is right behind me but this doesn't stop this Grade A turd stain. Then out of nowhere him and his nasty girlfriend start to make out in the middle of one of FNM's heaviest songs.
Who knew that the kaleidoscope that is Faith No More would bring together a similar kaleidoscope of people. Some of which smelled like they looked, and some of them who looked like they should do the world a favor and not say anything at all. Thus concludes today's lectures. Enjoy!

PS: I forgot that on the way down there, Mandi and I saw a homeless guy, who was peeing on the side walk at like 6:30 at night, which was still broad daylight. At least he was facing profile to us and he was a right so we didn't actually have to see him drain the lizard. Silver lining anyone?

Neighbors: Part 1

This is what we call in the business a "cliff hanger". It is a two part installment all about my totally awesome neighbors.

This particular tale has something for everyone; there's cops, security officers, skanks, d-bags, loud music, people locking themselves out of their house, noise complaints, late nights, movies, and concrete walls. So please sit back and enjoy Neighbors: Part 1.

One of the best things about living in an apartment or townhouse as we do, is your neighbors. When we first moved here in late July of '09, I was completely unaware that we even had neighbors. I would be reading and every once in a while I would hear a little dog bark through the concrete walls, no big deal. Then all of a sudden, poof! They were gone. I only found out about it when I took the trash out and saw that the maintenance guys were laying brand new carpet down in a completely bare apartment. I then began to wonder what kind of neighbors we would get. A few days later the answer moved in, and it came complete with a neon BAR sign. Was this some sort of omen or just someone who loves neon signs? Stay tuned to find out on the next thrilling installment!

People You Encounter at Work

I've had some downtime on Spring Break so, aside from doing everything that goes along with homework, getting caught up on my guitar playing, getting outside, and doing some reading; I've tried to be more active on this thing. Todays writing will focus on something that I haven't done since moving out to San Francisco in July of last year: work. My previous job at a music store was in a word awesome. I became exposed to new music I might have not been able to find, played dozens of new guitars and even became "good" at drums. I also met some cool people, got to meet quite a few of my musical heroes and also encounter some truly turdey people. Which is the point of this piece.

Most times people who come into music shops are cool enough, they have some unique stories and are just interesting people. On the other hand some people who came in just plain sucked ass. They would act as though we owed them something which would entitle them to free or greatly reduced merchandise. Or they would assume that $49.99 was code for: open to haggling. Often times I wanted to ask "Where do you work? Can I stop by and get a whole bunch of shit for free? No? Than what makes you so special?" Another favorite thing of mine that rude customers would do is rag on what we would carry, how much it sucked, and the price. Seriously? Who has the balls to do that? It amazes me that some people can do that. Of course I loved my job and held my tongue. The turdish people that I encountered were not just restricted to customers, some people I worked with over the years there, also got into the same boat. This was something that I never really thought about much until a friend of mine who also moved out here brought this to my attention. Don't get me wrong, I don't claim to be the most knowledgeable and I occasionally dropped the ball on somethings, but there were others who would take that job for granted. I often told people that I worked with, that this would probably be the coolest job that they will have and they would still screw it up. They would either be so full of themselves, show up late, try to leave early, not put any effort into working, get too distracted by the fact that we were encouraged to play the instruments. It was really incredible. The only thing(s) that it takes to be successful at a job like that are: some product knowledge, not sell people things they don't need or want, be nice and just acknowledge that they exist, don't hover around them, and be available to them. Strangely enough some people still don't get that.

So, yeah thus ends todays readings. Yey akward endings!

The Best Way to Spend 2 Hours of Your Life.

The Department of Motor Vehicles. What can one say about the place that hasn't been said before? For starters it sucks ginormous ass, the people who work there clearly a) hate their jobs b) hate their lives and c) hate you; and the lines are HUGE. It's as though people camp out 5 weeks in advance to get in line. This makes it rather difficult to just show up and you know do something simple like, I don't know renew your license. Although there are some differences with DMV's in different states. For example the one in North Dakota rocks balls. Almost never any lines, you are generally in and out of that place in anywhere from 10-30 minutes. Here in San Francisco, we went to get Mandi's drivers license renewed, boy was that an adventure. We get there at 10:45ish and we leave at 12:30. WOWIE! That's it?! Lets learn a little about this adventure shall we?

We get there and are able to cut through the line so that Mandi can take her written test, but the woman who is working at the desk acts as though we are disrupting her, even though its her job. Then some woman cuts in front of us, which causes the lady at the desk to flip out on her. Then we are given a number to wait in line for her to take her test; G 165. You would think that they do all the G's then switch to another letter right? Wrong, and you're dumb for assuming so, just like me. They call like 10 G's then skip to call like 30 B's then mix it up and do some more G's. So after 25 minutes of waiting, her number is called. I proceed to sit in my chair and read "The Zombie Survival Guide" as to prepare for the imminent attack. Then Americas fattest and smelliest people file in front of me to sit on the opposite side of me, good times. Then a creepy old "rent a cop" parades around wielding his power to keep people in line and make them be quite. Then he contradicts all that and he yells at someone for asking what line to stand in to hand in your test. Finally Mandi finishes, she passes, but I guess that wasn't good enough and the person at the desk taunts her for not doing better. Wow, someone loves what they do for a living.

So, I guess what I'm driving at is that the DMV is awesome and is the best way to spend like two hours of your life and made to feel like a complete idiot for disturbing someone by asking them a question that relates to their job....at their job...