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30 April 2007 @ 08:35 am
Life ... is all about choices. On Saturday night, I chose to finish off the last bit of my wine supply - which amounted to one bottle plus one glass. I also chose to stay in as opposed to going out and seeking live music like I'd originally planned. And then I finished the wine, leading to my decision to finish off the rest of my lemon juice and grenadine from a few weeks ago in a fruity vodka-based concoction. I chose to drink all of that from a water bottle and I chose to watch the entire first season of Entourage on my computer.

It was all of these choices that led to me feeling like dogshit come Sunday morning, but even that may have been a result of something I chose NOT to do: eat a late-night meal to douse some of that alcohol fire.

I could've slogged through the day hungover, wallowing in misery, but instead I chose to sleep in until noonish and then later take a three or four hour nap. This, of course, led to me feeling OUTSTANDING; it also led to me being wide eyed and bushy-tailed until 4:30 in the morning. I chose to stay up rather than try to force sleep upon myself because I felt I could be more productive. So, I picked my walls bare and packed a bunch of shit into my clear plastic clothes tub. Then I chose to download the new episodes of The Sopranos and Entourage in spite of HBO's random piracy attacking.

So, now I'm on two hours of sleep. I'm prepared to make two strong trips tomorrow after work and get completely moved into my new place. I'd like for this to be the last time I have to move while I'm still living in New York, but I guess I won't get my hopes up on that end.
 
 
30 April 2007 @ 09:34 am
I'm gonna try to explain this using numbers. Like a pie-chart of sorts. Think of the Seattle Seahawks' wide receivers as a pizza; here's how it breaks down as far as ability goes as of Saturday:

Darrell Jackson - 39%
Deion Branch - 24%
Bobby Engram - 20%
DJ Hackett - 12%
Nate Burlson - 4%
Ben Obomanu - 1%

If you buy this analogy, then you'll realize there's a huge chunk of the pie missing as of Sunday afternoon and the new Wide Receiver Pie has a distribution shift to something like this:

Deion Branch - 33%
Bobby Engram - 30%
DJ Hackett - 22%
Nate Burlson - 14%
Ben Obomanu - 1%
Some 6th Round Jerkoff - 0%
Some other 6th Round Jerkoff - 0%

That's like going from a fresh, delicious extra large Godfather's pizza loaded with a pound of cheese and pepperoni and black olives on that classic, golden crust ... to a frozen Totinos with like four of those tiny pepperoni cubes sprinkled about amongst that jizz-like cheese on top of that nasty, pocket-filled crust that always gets burnt ALWAYS.

We took a position of great strength on our team and made it instantly mediocre while not really helping our cause elsewhere. Just a bunch of randoms who may or may not pan out. Specifically, for Darrell Jackson, we drafted a guy who went from playing defensive tackle to offensive tackle to offensive guard and who won't play one minute of football this season unless injuries strike multiple times.

As far as the rest of our draft goes, we did the best we could with what we had. I'm excited about our second round pick because he sounds like a fucking SPEEDSTER the likes of which we haven't seen since Joey Galloway. It'd be nice to have a threat on kickoffs like, say, the Bears have. The defensive tackle we got sounds pretty raw, but he's 309 pounds and could develop into a nice run-stuffing machine. I'm not sold on this defensive end from the fourth round, but it sounds like he's going right into the rotation of ends, which stands at four. This converted linebacker sounds like the second coming of Isaiah Kacyvenski, which means he'll be a stud on special teams and a liability on defense. The Auburn wide receiver doesn't sound like anything special; the Oregon receiver is 6'4 and 217 pounds which might keep him around on the practice squad if he shows he can jump high and catch what's thrown his way. The final offensive lineman is destined to be cut I'm thinking.

For the 2007 season, the Seahawks got considerably worse by losing the best receiver we've had since Joey Galloway's heyday. Of course, that changes if Jackson gets injured at any point this season, so there's always hoping for that. As far as down the line? You never can tell, but it's rare that a draft produces busts up and down the line; SOMEBODY will pan out. For some reason, my money isn't on the man named Mansfield Wrotto.
 
 
Maybe it's because I'm super fucking crabby thanks to the two hours of sleep I got last night, the unlimited amount of caffeine I've drank today, or the fact that I'm being told people are moving into my fucking apartment tomorrow instead of God-damned fucking Wednesday, but I'm reading the new issue of Rolling Stone - The 40th Anniversary Issue - and I can't help but think of the quote that showed up on The Sopranos last week:

"'Remember When' is the lowest form of conversation."

It's difficult to know exactly where Tony stands on anything - obviously he isn't much for reminiscing, so that would mean he's either comfortable living in the present or always looking to the future. I haven't given it much thought and I don't plan to, but it's this thought of Looking Back, of Remembering When that's got me going at the moment.

Again, I'm irritable. I'm like five women all having their periods at once, so get over it. But it's just so damned fucking pointless, thinking about how great it used to be. Who fucking cares? Where does that get you except depressed, because you have this hairbrained notion that it'll never be as good as it was. You keep thinking that way and it's only going to come true because you'll never let yourself enjoy the present if you're always comparing it to the past.

So, I'm rifling through this issue of Rolling Stone, and it's just one big pile of Waste of Time. Chock full of interviews with the likes of The Remaining Living Beatles, Bob Dylan, A Couple Rolling Stones, Norman Mailer & Tom Wolfe, Jimmy Carter & George McGovern, Michael Moore, and anyone else who fits the Rolling Stone Way of Life - far be it for an opinion of dissent to drip its way through these sheets of paper; all I'm glancing over is how America has changed since the 60s, how the two wars are the same, and how President Bush sucks.

Here's a news flash: Bob Dylan has made some of the best music of the last 50 years, but nobody cares what that old fuck has to say! While they kiss his ass every time he drools out another album, he's living off of his fucking reputation; he hasn't made a decent fucking album since the God-damned 70s. His opinions on America I could give a shit about, especially since he just had a feature article within the last 52 weeks in this very magazine. His opinions on songwriting? On music in general and who in the relative mainstream he's listening to today (dig it, don't give a shit about Wild Ricky Fuckballs & His 12 Piece Jugband; just tell us what you think of The White Stripes and move along old man), I'm all for that.

Since when is beating a dead horse considered quality journalism? Do you know what the two major themes of Rolling Stone has been in the last year? George Bush Will Go Down As The Worst President Of All Time - and - Rolling Stone Magazine Is The Best, We've Done Everything That Will Ever Be Done And We're Ever-So-Important To Music And Politics And Everything Else. I'm not joking, within the last year they've had a 40th Anniversary Issue and a 1000th Issue Issue. Between Rolling Stone and MTV, I couldn't possibly tell you who hypes themselves more, but it's neck and neck so far. And yeah, you know what else? Find something else to say about this administration that hasn't already been said, or go seek injustice elsewhere. If I read one more fucking article on how he stole the 2000 election or how he stole the 2004 election or how everybody was Super Mean to Bill Clinton when he was in office, why did they let George get away with his sucky job for so long, that's Totally Not Cool, I'm going to fucking mow down an airplane full of homosexual, Jewish, African American newborns as it hurtles directly into Fort Knox.

You know what? Maybe music wouldn't SUCK so bad today if you covered it properly instead of trying to kiss ass that shouldn't be kissed. Maybe we wouldn't have to keep doing these retread articles on aging baby boomers from the fucking 60s if you didn't say "Baby One More Time" by Britney Spears is one of the top 40 Songs That Changed The World. Maybe this president wouldn't be in office to be declared the worst of all time if you didn't help foster this acceptance of the Who Gives A Shit Mentality, in spite of all your proclaimations towards supporting losing democratic campaigns and touting Jimmy Carter as a success story for the cause. How about this time we don't settle for At Least He's Not (Fill In The Blank)? How about this time we have the balls to support a candidate who truly speaks our mind as opposed to the one that has the best chance of winning while not being an utter Antichrist?

And how about you start supporting bands that are truly WORTHY of accolades instead of enabling these shitty artists like Avril Lavigne and Fall Out Boy by giving them three stars and saying "Well, it's not as bad as it COULD be". This is the magazine that once panned Led Zeppelin's debut record. Now you're heaping praise where it doesn't belong and looking the other way when the state of Rock N' Roll is in an utter freefall.

Remember when you used to have integrity?