Nashvillean Magnetism.

   “Real folk music long ago went to Nashville and left no known survivors.”

   Or so Donal Henahan correctly summarized years ago. The city, at first, looks like most cities do. Chain restaurants color the roads with their familiar colors, corporate headquarters tower high into the air without purpose or remorse, locals work the shops and walk the streets with a knowing spark in their eyes and an unamused look on their faces., sick of the outsider's bizarre stares of bewilderment. It's another city. Simple.
   Except that it's not. There's a bronze to the town that can't be seen, only felt. As if it's been painted with the twang a screaming steel guitar about to implode under it's own dust-stirring pressure can make. The town doesn't just house musicians, it lives and breath with them.  Nashville, for all intents and purposes, is music. From the low-fi indie popping out of car stereos to the burnt country pouring from ancient speakers and onto the pale, gray streets, there's an undeniable soul to the place. You can almost taste the Bob Marley track the cook was listening to while he made your sandwich. In most cases the town produces the culture, in this case the culture produced the town. Class, Sirs & Mademoiselles. Class...

   And that's that. For shit's and grins, here's what what on:

1. Friday night entailed two tired, worn guys going out to 2nd Ave and stumbling across an Irish pub that threw down a mean Irish breakfast and a few much-appreciated Snake Bites.
2. Saturday morning was a sleep in, go to breakfast at a Jewish deli thing. Corned beef hash & rye toast starts a day quite well.
3. From Jewish deli to Athens, Greece? Only in Nashville apparently. In less than an hour I walked from the set of Seinfeld to the set of Rome. Random, to say the least. Due to Nashville being dubbed "The Athens of the South" they built a full-scale replica of The Parthenon. It, to say the least, is bad ass.
4. From there it was back to the hotel to get ready to go back out and initially get lost in downtown Nashville. Ever walked over 40 blocks for samosas, lamb curry, and a glass of King Fisher? We did. And it ruled. Also to note: The disgusting Hustler Novelty Shop in Nashville also has a cafe' in it. Blech.
5. Trendy? Yes. Full of punkass college brats? Certainly. Kind of awesome due to a 300 beer selection? Most definitely.  We went to The Flying Saucer, a bar that offers something called a "Beer Flight" which consists of five 5oz. samples of various draught beers from around the globe. I took the German flight and it tasted like freedom (ha!).
6. We met Peppa's buddy Reese at The Basement, a nice little bar where actually locals hang out and watch incredibly good local bands play. I was really taken by the opening act, a gal named Chelsea Scott who played great, great singer-songwriter songs reminiscent of Imogen Heap and Patsy Cline doing a duets album. I really dug that she was accompanied by some cat with a banjo. It was swell.
  *More awesomeness occurred at the Basement that I will omit here because I simply choose to do so. so don't be a bitch and get all asky.*
7. Sunday we got up and drove home, stopping only once to rape a vending machine with nickels and dimes. Why they choose to refrigerate Cheez-Its and cinnamon buns, I'll never know. It was cool and gross.
8. To cap the weekend we went to go see Smokin' Aces with our main attraction Britney. It rocked more ass than Jason Bateman in a bra and panties (which it also rocked). Twas bitchin'.

And zat, as they zey, is zat. Hope yours was as good as mine.

But it wasn't.

- E.

Lame ducks & sick, sick fucks.

 

 

   As if anyone needed more proof that the Internet monkeys are
sometimes disgustingly uncouth, here's a
prime
example. I can't understand what would possess someone to e-mail a father
pictures of his recently deceased daughter stuck in a mass of twisted metal
outside of the (very good) possibility that they're either socially demented
or simply starved for any kind of reaction as they live shallow, empty lives.
Either way, they deserve to get thrown into a morgue and forced to lick the
wounds of cadavers retrieved from horrid automobile accidents and/or brought
out into the street and shot. My heart goes out to that family.

 

  

 

   In the category of "You Have Got to be Shitting Me," I offer you
this.
Fox News? I'm not a what you'd call a "fan." What I don't get about
this is the fact that your quintessential Republican (at least the one in my
mind) has a nightly routine of pouring a tall glass of scotch, lighting up a
high end cigar, and masturbating to John Wayne movies in wide screen high
definition (using a bible to catch) while his wife self medicates with
horse tranquilizers and then gets finger-banged by the pool
boy. Or something like that. Anyways, what I mean is that John Wayne smoked
like a fucking forest fire (five, count them FIVE packs a day) and I'm willing
to bet that the Republican side would vote for him with little to
no hesitation. These are the same people that voted in Detective John
Kimball as the governor of California. I'd like to say that the
Conservatives hate Barack because he's a black guy, but it's simply because
he's an incredibly savvy, versatile member of the left. Especially when you
consider they're attacking him on something that has absolutely no relevance
to running the country like a personal vice. Don't vote for him because
he smokes? Cigarettes? Seriously? Is that the best you have? Seriously, we all
liked Josiah "Jed" Bartlet and
he smoked. I mean, I could see attacking Obama if he walked around acting
like he huffs gasoline and eats modeling paste, but the Democrats have
already patented that maneuver and have it focused on Bush.

 

   I really hope that J. Michael Straczynski doesn't
kill
Mary Jane. That'd make me sad.

 

   That's it for now.

One day, you may need to drive to Mexico and pick me up.

These are the words I know in the Spanish language: Manana, Hoto, Hermano, Huevos, Consolodore, Caliente, and Muey. Also "Sombrero."

If I ever wake up in a coffin in Mexico (ala Michael Douglas in The Game) and have to talk my way out of it, I'm totally screwed. All's I'll be able to say is, "Tomorrow I will have eggs with my gay brother who wears a very hot dildo hat."

Something tells me that customs officials won't "get" me.

Babaghanoush & the Bee's Knees.

 Babaghanoush & the Bee's Knees

 So Tigger sucker punched some kid at Disney World.
Charming.
I guess Tiggers are pretty good at pouncing as well. Silly imaginary
feline creatures, they've got no class.

 

 This season of 24 was released a week early via the Godsend known as
Internet piracy. Being that I have little-to-no self control when it comes to
waiting on these things, I watched all four episodes last week. Bauer's still
the f'ng man, Sir. It's insane how consistently entertaining 24 can be. On a
24 related side note, they're making a Jack Bauer action figure line this
year. What's awesome is that they were supposed to do this a few years ago
but, to quote Kiefer Sutherland himself...

 

"They tried to come out with one a couple of years ago and they had sent me
the doll for my approval... We took the doll out for a night to have some fun
and we'd had some drinks. We sat it on the corner of the table. We started
torturing him around 11 o'clock at night, and, by two o'clock in the morning,
we had set him on fire in the parking lot. We got up the next day and there
was just this puddle of wax... and then I got a call the next day saying, 'Did
you like the doll?' I said, 'Yeah, it was great.' And they said, 'Well, OK,
good, you gotta send it back to us because that was the
prototype..."  

 

 

I'm happy to see that the Senate has decided to put a
ban
on lobbyists giving away sporting event tickets in exchange for political
pull. There's nothing worse than the gun lobby getting a break because
Thad Cochran just HAD to go see a Mighty Ducks game and drink a few
Labbatt's. Maybe next they'll ban lobbyists from giving House members
sloppy head in DC alleyways (I mean, don't they already have pages for that?).

 

 In other news, Castro's
dying
again. I wonder if Raúl's excited or just scared shitless that his big
brother's about to fall out?

 

Anyways, that's all I got for right now.

 

- E.

 

 

Yes, Nicholas, how did it get burned?

 

Whose dick do I have to suck to get a doughnut in Gainesville?