mon calimarian cruiser

This little momma is going in the "Funniest Shit Ever" bin. Being the gigantic Star Wars nerd that I am, I almost died when I first saw this. If you're ever in Ein-Steins bar on College Street on any given night and you hear "It's a Frap!", it's for sure me.

UPDATED - move it or use it

For starters, that's my third and newest cast. Well, it's a splint for arguments sake. I'm incredibly happy about this, and why? It's removable! Velcro, son. It also makes me look like a stormtrooper. Gone are the dark ages of bag-shower-dickhead. I can actually now wash myself with two hands like a big boy. The best part about this is that I'll be able to remove it whenever I please for my trip, within reason. I don't want to royally mangle my hand by leaving it off too long and cause another alignment problem, which lead to the most painful medical procedure I've ever endured. I won't go into that for the sake of those reading who choose not to see their lunches for a second time.

On top of all that, I think I'm inches away from pneumonia again, which is funny because it made me realize something.
Every new years eve I'll attempt to forecast what the theme for the year will be. Two years ago was the Year of Disguise, last year was the S.H.I.T. acronym, and this year is Personal Injury! I might as well roll with all these defects because it's actually quite comedic from my point of view. But enough about that.

As I mentioned earlier in the week, I will be participating in the annual CN Tower stair climb tomorrow. Quite frankly, I haven't thought about my vacation hardly at all because my mind and body have been fixated on this ridiculous personal challenge. I have been exercising my legs and lungs constantly for the past two weeks and, apparently to some, have lost some weight. I thought that was due to not wanting to eat because of my hand, but who knows.

To me, this climb isn't about pandas at all. I can guarantee you I'll never use that last sentence ever again for as long as I live. But sure, the money raised (thanks DP and Flip') is for a good cause, yet I approach it a lot more personally. In the end they give you your elapsed time and you get to see either how in shape you are from walking and exercising daily, or how unhealthy you are from drinking Olde E, eating Starbucks food, smoking casually on the stoop, a ten pound weight increase, and inadvertently huffing oil paint fumes on a daily basis.

Seeing as this is my fourth straight climb (past times include 22:41, 18:13, and 26:02 minutes), it's anyones guess what will happen. If I bomb I'll just blaming it on being sick because I currently have no lung capacity. I'll post my time on this blog tomorrow morning before my flight leaves. Predictions are welcome. I'm going to ballsilly (not a real word) predict 25:00 minutes.


one day later....And that kids is how you climb a fucking tower. Turns out I'm not so out of shape after all.
Kudos to friend and karaoke all-star John Ainey for pulling together an admirable time of a little more than 16 minutes.

living in a glass house

Here are my albums in current rotation. Not my all time favorite stuff, but it's usually what I've been craving to hear at 5 am.

Bloc Party's Intimacy, is not exactly what I expected from those boys, but it indeed blew my fucking head off. The first track has lead electric work that would make you cry, and the drummer is still awe inspiring. I still plan on attempting to play to one of their albums continuously on the drums, even though I know I wouldn't even come close to the speed and precision they can pull off. But as expected, there's crazy drumming, lyrics that don't rhyme, dark motifs, and gripping instrumentation that has you buy the nuts the entire album (except for the two remixes at the end, which seems to separate themselves from the entirety of the album). Needless to say, it's dope and you should grab it.

Tegan and Sarah's The Con. I bought this album only because I could get it for cheap and it came recommended by a friend. This still continues to be one of the favorite albums of the year, for several reasons. For one, the writing is second to none in its originality. The production Chris Walla gave the album is phenomenal; everything is juicy, tough, organic, and sharp all at the same time. The album alone inspired me to delve into not only T&S's catalogue, but into Wallas as well. Thirdly, the drumming is gorgeous, and more importantly, effective. Well done Jason. And finally it came with a sweet behind the scenes look at how every track was born and was completed. Everything from the writing, to the recording, the mixing, with some additional Forest Fone sequences that are pretty hilarious. You can watch them on youtube if you have an hour to kill.

Daniel Johnston's Welcome to My World. The vocals are annoying as all hell, but the songs are like nothing I've ever heard. Performing all by his lonesome, usually with just the help of a guitar or piano, Daniel pumps out beautifully articulated songs of heartbreak, humor, satire, John Lennon, and speedy motorcycles. Anyone who considers themselves a music aficionado should buy at least one of his albums immediately.

The Who's Who's Next. Listen to it. Love it. Rock out to Baba O'Reilly and remember what rock is supposed to sound like.

Matthew Good's The Audio of Being. The whole album rules (most notably The Rat Who Would Be King, Tripoli, and Advertising on Police Cars). But the solo at the end of Carmelina is just something I can never get loud enough in my ears. It's everything I look for in a solo: loud as fuck, full distortion, entire scale, and terrifying.

Beast, Beast. It's not out yet, but I heard the clips from the album on iTunes today and still love that shit. I saw these Montreal cats at NXNE this year and was blown away. Think industrial beats on top of the Triplets of Belleville soundtrack, and that's literally what it is.

Placebo's Sleeping With Ghosts, and Meds. Another group that I was inspired to listen to simply from one good song. I actually took the long way around when listening to these guys; a route that I usually avoid like the plague, and that is the first record I bought was a singles album. Weak! Singles are for low-frequency jackholes. Regardless, I'm glad I did because their albums rule, especially these two. Beautiful lyricism surrounding dark, romantic times that is best listened to on wet cobblestone streets. Some tracks just make you feel like a strung out junkie roaming around Sussex on a Saturday night looking for cheap sex and cheap drugs. Tracks like In the Cold Light of Morning and Pierrot the Clown just move me in a way that would normally have cost me a plane ticket to Paris. Brian Molko is a cool androgynous mother as well.

Tchaikovsky's Three Disc Collection. Probably the only record that I own and haven't listened to. Sole reason for this? It's on vinyl and I don't have a record player. I saw it at Goodwill for THREE DOLLARS and bought that, among others. Three dollars for a triple-Tchaikovsky vinyl? Pff. Mine.

Anything by Cat Power. A voice that takes you from worrisome to care-free. I eat up this acoustic lounge shit. She's just as edgy as Amy Winehouse, except she has a better voice and shows up to concerts. Oh!

Radiohead, Amnesiac. I listen to this album, unconsciously, about once every three weeks. I just look at the spine of the record when it sits amongst my others and pop it in my player. It's so weird and crafty. There are only a handful of songs on the record that I would consider structured, literal "songs", and that's what is so cool about it. The rest of the album is just full of loops, crunchy bass, Thom Yorke's choir-boy falsetto, and a whole lot of talent. And time measurements that make you want to go back to school.