I've never been a fan of songs that have girls' names in them, like a little black book of music. Shit like this...
...irritates the shit out of me. No joke. Die, Darryl Hall. You can live, John Oates, but only because you have a super-sweet mustache.
Ben Folds coined the term "emotionally lewd," with regard to using I and Me too much in his songwriting, and although I do that a lot in my music, I've never even been tempted to get so personal with a song that it uses someone's name. If you come right out and say it's for a specific girl, how are you going to be able to lie to other girls so they think it's about them? And if you can't lie, how the hell can you get laid?
I'm (mostly) kidding.
Thing is, the Guys and I have finished writing one hell of a song, and because a certain person has been on my mind a great deal lately, she made it into the song. Into the chorus, even. Can you believe it? How... emotionally... lewd!
Thing about it is, it's not even someone I care about that much. Maybe that's the key; you write about the disconnect with the person instead of writing about the actual person. Surely, people will hear this new "Jenny Song" and think, "He's so complicated... I can't believe he's used her name in that song! Do you think she knows? Who do you think Jenny is?"
I'm probably over-thinking it. Fact is, nobody talks much about my lyrics... which disappoints me, truly. Almost every song brings back a vivid memory, where I can remember the exact time of day that led me to write those specific words.
Anyway, the person I should have written about is Ashley. Thing is, if you write a song about someone that you really do care about, you can't take back anything. With Jenny, I wouldn't take it back because it's all true. With Ashley, I might want to... if things don't work out... which things never do.
I spoke with Ashley tonight. She's one of my best friends, and someone that I feel a very deep connection with. We can not talk for a month, then see or talk to each other and pick up where we left off immediately. And the thing about it is, I don't see her that often. And I miss her.
In this way, she's completely opposite of the woman in the "Jenny Song." Jenny, as sweet and wonderful and pretty and smart and funny as any woman I've ever met, never left me wanting more; more time, more nights together, just one minute here and there... But with Ashley, there's a whole different energy involved. Part of that comes from being friends for so long, almost 10 years at this point.
Unfortunately, that train has likely sailed. We've had our moments, when things went right or hard drugs were involved. And each time, left me wanting more, and her wanting less.
Love is hard. Falling completely head over heels for someone who doesn't feel the same way is probably the toughest thing I've ever had to endure.
But now I know what it's like to be on the other side, on Ashley's side. Because of Jenny. Jenny, who the song is about. Who was (is?) head over heels for me... is playing the role of me, head over heels for Ashley.
What a twisted web we weave.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
They knew it all along.
I swore up and down that this blog wouldn't get political, but when I received this in my email today, well, I couldn't resist.
Cheney was right. Sure, it was 1994, but watch this video and tell me again that they didn't know what kind of a toll the war in Vietraq would take on our country, our soldiers, and their families.
Yup. He said it. Feel free to be angry, I know I am.
Cheney was right. Sure, it was 1994, but watch this video and tell me again that they didn't know what kind of a toll the war in Vietraq would take on our country, our soldiers, and their families.
Yup. He said it. Feel free to be angry, I know I am.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Isn't she lovely? Isn't she wonderful?
These sappy lyrics brought to you by Stevie Wonder. Dedicated to my friend Leslie, she of four appearances TOTAL in my life, and the hostess cupcake of the Librarian Intelligence Agency. Anyway, she gave me a shout-out and a link, which is the first anyone has ever done for my blog - and it only took a week! Woot!
This is for Leslie. She's hot, like a Curry. I wanna tell her how hot she is, but she'll think I'm being sexist. She's so hot she's making me sexist. Bitch.
Enough small boom, let's boom the boom.
This is for Leslie. She's hot, like a Curry. I wanna tell her how hot she is, but she'll think I'm being sexist. She's so hot she's making me sexist. Bitch.
Enough small boom, let's boom the boom.
Lies, damn lies and statistics
Do you know what this is?
That, my friends, is horse shit. In a bike lane, apparently.
More horse shit comes from the Denver Post, which is trumpeting this weekend's "Underground Music Showcase" featuring "The 300 Best Bands in Colorado," which, yes, they ranked.
I know, I know. I can't be mad every time my band gets passed over for something like this, and I'm not. Could care less about being overlooked for Monolith Festival for being the "wrong" kind of music - even though Meese, who is more "wrong" than we are, got in - and because the folks at Monolith took our cash but DIDN'T EVEN OPEN OUR FUCKING PRESS KIT. A little more angry about being passed over for the People's Fair, thanks to some meaningless politics in the system from people who have never even seen us play. But this "ranking" of the 300 "best" bands is just a little too much.
For one thing, every band on this list has kissed ass from the hi-dive to the Larimer, two rooms which combined might pack as many people in as my band does at the Gothic and Bluebird Theatres. They've gotten more political play from the "scene-makers" at Radio 1190 and the ultimate indie-hipster, Ric Baca at the Post.
Now. I know Ricardo Baca. He's a nice fella. But if you're going to rank these bands and you're not going to look outside your little circle to find them, your ranking is 100% flawed. Some bands on that list have a grand total of three live shows under their belts. THREE!
Being friends with bands is cool, but when you're making a ranking like this based on those friendships, then call it what it is.
Horse shit.
In the following clip, the fruit vendor is the Denver Music Scene, and the New Zealanders - Bret and Jemaine, for clarity - represents my band.
Too many mother uckas, uckin' with my shit.
That, my friends, is horse shit. In a bike lane, apparently.
More horse shit comes from the Denver Post, which is trumpeting this weekend's "Underground Music Showcase" featuring "The 300 Best Bands in Colorado," which, yes, they ranked.
I know, I know. I can't be mad every time my band gets passed over for something like this, and I'm not. Could care less about being overlooked for Monolith Festival for being the "wrong" kind of music - even though Meese, who is more "wrong" than we are, got in - and because the folks at Monolith took our cash but DIDN'T EVEN OPEN OUR FUCKING PRESS KIT. A little more angry about being passed over for the People's Fair, thanks to some meaningless politics in the system from people who have never even seen us play. But this "ranking" of the 300 "best" bands is just a little too much.
For one thing, every band on this list has kissed ass from the hi-dive to the Larimer, two rooms which combined might pack as many people in as my band does at the Gothic and Bluebird Theatres. They've gotten more political play from the "scene-makers" at Radio 1190 and the ultimate indie-hipster, Ric Baca at the Post.
Now. I know Ricardo Baca. He's a nice fella. But if you're going to rank these bands and you're not going to look outside your little circle to find them, your ranking is 100% flawed. Some bands on that list have a grand total of three live shows under their belts. THREE!
Being friends with bands is cool, but when you're making a ranking like this based on those friendships, then call it what it is.
Horse shit.
In the following clip, the fruit vendor is the Denver Music Scene, and the New Zealanders - Bret and Jemaine, for clarity - represents my band.
Too many mother uckas, uckin' with my shit.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Thursday morning - quickly
Rush concert last night. Awesome. It was like this:
They say it's a gateway drug.
Also, great conversation with someone from my past. We'll be getting together next week, and I couldn't be more excited. Not even sure what I'm excited for. But I'm excited.
Some would say that going back to revisit old relationships is a bad thing, equivalent of making the same mistake twice. I disagree. I think going back helps you learn to move forward, and shows you where you made your mistakes before, hopefully with the end result being that you don't look like as much of a moron, right?
Uh. Right?
They say it's a gateway drug.
Also, great conversation with someone from my past. We'll be getting together next week, and I couldn't be more excited. Not even sure what I'm excited for. But I'm excited.
Some would say that going back to revisit old relationships is a bad thing, equivalent of making the same mistake twice. I disagree. I think going back helps you learn to move forward, and shows you where you made your mistakes before, hopefully with the end result being that you don't look like as much of a moron, right?
Uh. Right?
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Minesweeper: The Movie
This was simply too good to pass up. Thanks to the spectacular Kissing Suzy Kolber for posting it, and to College Humor for making it and making it available to us. A grateful nation is in your debt.
"Why are you here, soldier?"
"Because I'm bored!"
Amen.
"Why are you here, soldier?"
"Because I'm bored!"
Amen.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
The Grand Opening
Tuesday. Damn.
Went to a grand opening of a new Mexican restaurant, which is located in Cherry Creek North, called Tambien. It was muy bueno. Great margaritas, good food, fun, young atmosphere. And it was free. So all told, it really should have been awesome.
It was less than that. Damn.
I love the folks I work with. We go out, we have drinks, we laugh and joke a lot. So don't get it twisted.
I don't love hanging out with work folks that are dating each other. It's odd. And being the only single person in our office, if not our company, lends itself to some pretty awful situations.
I have this thing, where I feel like I'm being watched and judged all the time. Bizarre? No question. But true, nonetheless. So imagine my discomfort as Mike, Tori and I were seated, and I was once again the third wheel.
A little background here: I'm actually quite adept at being the third wheel. Jonathan, my best friend, recently got married, and I found myself on a lot of dates with him and his now-wife, Jessica. I didn't mind; I liked both of them very much, have known both for upwards of 10 years, so it was really like hanging out with two friends.
Tonight? Well, tonight was different. Damn.
Mike and Tori are dating, and that's... you know, whatever that is. Personally, I don't date people at work, but I've recently found out that I might be in the minority there, so whatever; let them do what they want.
However, hanging out with Mike and Tori, while fun, wasn't like hanging out with Jon and Jess. I felt the need and desire to entertain them, even though we were just out at dinner and drinks. What the hell is my problem??? I wasn't on stage, wasn't expected to perform, and yet there I was, doing my retarded Chris Matthews impression and yelling in a crowded restaurant. Just what the hell is the matter with me?
Which leads me to the following list of "Don'ts" for SDW.
1. Do not ask me, "How's your love life doin'?" unless you are A) female, and B) have immediate plans to change said love life from "stagnant" to "active." This is not up for debate.
2. Do not ask me to dinner if you're going with your significant other (and no one else). Just remember, it's hard enough being single without having all your friends remind you with actions at dinner just how single you are. I won't forget. I swear, I won't forget.
3. Don't ask me questions like, "Hey, which girl are you dating these days? You've got quite the roster." Even if I told you that I had quite the roster, it's likely that none of it is true. Just because I talk to a lot of girls does not mean any of them are interested in dating me. At all. Trust me, I've done the research.
4. If you just met a "really cute" girl and you think that we'd "be perfect for each other," save it. No, really. Introducing us is one thing, but if there is pressure going in, I won't be able to close the deal, so really all you've done is wasted your night, her night and my night. Introducing us is fine, but do not tell me what your intentions are. If I'm interested, I'll be sure to let you know.
The only reason I lay this stuff out for you is because I've experienced a rash of this crap lately, and it's gotta stop. Yes, I'm single. Yes, I'd like to date. No, I don't particularly want to date Jenny. No, I'm not entirely sure why. Yes, I wish things were different. No, I haven't met anyone new and interesting. Seriously. Lay. Off.
That said, it's not all bad. Being single, I mean. At least I can come home, take my pants off, and write a blog in the comfort of my own apartment, without worrying about offending anyone.
Fuck it. Maybe I should just stay single. As if it's up to me.
Went to a grand opening of a new Mexican restaurant, which is located in Cherry Creek North, called Tambien. It was muy bueno. Great margaritas, good food, fun, young atmosphere. And it was free. So all told, it really should have been awesome.
It was less than that. Damn.
I love the folks I work with. We go out, we have drinks, we laugh and joke a lot. So don't get it twisted.
I don't love hanging out with work folks that are dating each other. It's odd. And being the only single person in our office, if not our company, lends itself to some pretty awful situations.
I have this thing, where I feel like I'm being watched and judged all the time. Bizarre? No question. But true, nonetheless. So imagine my discomfort as Mike, Tori and I were seated, and I was once again the third wheel.
A little background here: I'm actually quite adept at being the third wheel. Jonathan, my best friend, recently got married, and I found myself on a lot of dates with him and his now-wife, Jessica. I didn't mind; I liked both of them very much, have known both for upwards of 10 years, so it was really like hanging out with two friends.
Tonight? Well, tonight was different. Damn.
Mike and Tori are dating, and that's... you know, whatever that is. Personally, I don't date people at work, but I've recently found out that I might be in the minority there, so whatever; let them do what they want.
However, hanging out with Mike and Tori, while fun, wasn't like hanging out with Jon and Jess. I felt the need and desire to entertain them, even though we were just out at dinner and drinks. What the hell is my problem??? I wasn't on stage, wasn't expected to perform, and yet there I was, doing my retarded Chris Matthews impression and yelling in a crowded restaurant. Just what the hell is the matter with me?
Which leads me to the following list of "Don'ts" for SDW.
1. Do not ask me, "How's your love life doin'?" unless you are A) female, and B) have immediate plans to change said love life from "stagnant" to "active." This is not up for debate.
2. Do not ask me to dinner if you're going with your significant other (and no one else). Just remember, it's hard enough being single without having all your friends remind you with actions at dinner just how single you are. I won't forget. I swear, I won't forget.
3. Don't ask me questions like, "Hey, which girl are you dating these days? You've got quite the roster." Even if I told you that I had quite the roster, it's likely that none of it is true. Just because I talk to a lot of girls does not mean any of them are interested in dating me. At all. Trust me, I've done the research.
4. If you just met a "really cute" girl and you think that we'd "be perfect for each other," save it. No, really. Introducing us is one thing, but if there is pressure going in, I won't be able to close the deal, so really all you've done is wasted your night, her night and my night. Introducing us is fine, but do not tell me what your intentions are. If I'm interested, I'll be sure to let you know.
The only reason I lay this stuff out for you is because I've experienced a rash of this crap lately, and it's gotta stop. Yes, I'm single. Yes, I'd like to date. No, I don't particularly want to date Jenny. No, I'm not entirely sure why. Yes, I wish things were different. No, I haven't met anyone new and interesting. Seriously. Lay. Off.
That said, it's not all bad. Being single, I mean. At least I can come home, take my pants off, and write a blog in the comfort of my own apartment, without worrying about offending anyone.
Fuck it. Maybe I should just stay single. As if it's up to me.
stunning coincidence
I swear to Jeebus, this happened.
While working today, I came across a writer with the first name of Efrain. Immediately, as if on cue, thoughts drifted to a night last fall in Boulder, with my then-girlfriend Lauren, at a restaurant by that same name. The special on the menu? "The Efrain," a mysterious combination of meat, beans, tortilla, cheese and chili that had my taste buds dancing and my stomach doing backflips. Thankfully, Lauren was quite, um, forgiving, regarding my tummy issues. Mr. Giggles - yes, I've named my stomach in lieu of naming my dick - was noisy and annoying that night.
The odd thing about "The Efrain": they refuse to tell you what's in it, and if you order it, you are prohibited from sending it back. This seems dangerous from a food-allergy standpoint, but also a strange battle to wage against the people who are coming to your restaurant to pay for what truly isn't all that great of a burrito.
Anyway, Efrain led my mind astray, back to that night in Boulder. And who should appear for the first time in months on my messenger? Lauren. Naturally, I put on my happy face just in time to learn that she's moving in with her almost-a-year-now boyfriend, a mysterious man named Gil. I immediately regaled her with stories from my dating life, how nothing's working, how the women I meet either like me more than I like them or vice versa, how I continually screw things up in this department. More than anything, I think I came across as more pathetic than was necessary, especially when speaking to an ex. I want so badly for her to be happy, and yet, for whatever reason, feel that my happiness will be directly compared to hers.
Lauren, you are my satellite. At least, I can hope.
"Maybe you will always be/just a little out of reach."
Edit: The video may make you sick. If you have trouble watching spinning things, either don't watch or grab a trashcan.
While working today, I came across a writer with the first name of Efrain. Immediately, as if on cue, thoughts drifted to a night last fall in Boulder, with my then-girlfriend Lauren, at a restaurant by that same name. The special on the menu? "The Efrain," a mysterious combination of meat, beans, tortilla, cheese and chili that had my taste buds dancing and my stomach doing backflips. Thankfully, Lauren was quite, um, forgiving, regarding my tummy issues. Mr. Giggles - yes, I've named my stomach in lieu of naming my dick - was noisy and annoying that night.
The odd thing about "The Efrain": they refuse to tell you what's in it, and if you order it, you are prohibited from sending it back. This seems dangerous from a food-allergy standpoint, but also a strange battle to wage against the people who are coming to your restaurant to pay for what truly isn't all that great of a burrito.
Anyway, Efrain led my mind astray, back to that night in Boulder. And who should appear for the first time in months on my messenger? Lauren. Naturally, I put on my happy face just in time to learn that she's moving in with her almost-a-year-now boyfriend, a mysterious man named Gil. I immediately regaled her with stories from my dating life, how nothing's working, how the women I meet either like me more than I like them or vice versa, how I continually screw things up in this department. More than anything, I think I came across as more pathetic than was necessary, especially when speaking to an ex. I want so badly for her to be happy, and yet, for whatever reason, feel that my happiness will be directly compared to hers.
Lauren, you are my satellite. At least, I can hope.
"Maybe you will always be/just a little out of reach."
Edit: The video may make you sick. If you have trouble watching spinning things, either don't watch or grab a trashcan.
Monday, August 6, 2007
Oui, oui! Baguette!
Parle vous le Francais? Eh. No.
Yeah, like I needed more incentive to buy an ascot.
Good mercy. Patrick came over, bearing gifts of a Red Sox Fathead for my home office. I'll post pictures as soon as I get my camera to work. It is rad, and I haven't even gotten it up yet. He also brought by a sick CU football jersey. CU sucks the fat one, I know, but we're discussing getting season tickets for the home schedule in Boulder this season. They're fairly inexpensive, and since I'm not going to do my traveling until the spring - when football is over - I have time to spend Saturdays getting drunk with coeds in Boulder. Solid.
Anyway, Patrick is a good buddy, with whom I have a standing arrangement to watch the best show ever, or Flight of the Conchords as its known in the real world. Terrific program, and you can tell I'm quite keen, as the only two videos I've posted here on Sam Versus World are from this two-man novelty act from New Zealand. It really is some sort of transcendent, brilliant comedy, and I thank the folks at HBO for coming up with something that will replace the now-tedious Entourage.
To follow up on earlier events, Jarvis Moss is going to be fine, and should be back on the field tomorrow. Our company website came back up, so I got lots of work done. And my burrito from Chipotle was outstanding.
Arivaderci!(sp?)
Yeah, like I needed more incentive to buy an ascot.
Good mercy. Patrick came over, bearing gifts of a Red Sox Fathead for my home office. I'll post pictures as soon as I get my camera to work. It is rad, and I haven't even gotten it up yet. He also brought by a sick CU football jersey. CU sucks the fat one, I know, but we're discussing getting season tickets for the home schedule in Boulder this season. They're fairly inexpensive, and since I'm not going to do my traveling until the spring - when football is over - I have time to spend Saturdays getting drunk with coeds in Boulder. Solid.
Anyway, Patrick is a good buddy, with whom I have a standing arrangement to watch the best show ever, or Flight of the Conchords as its known in the real world. Terrific program, and you can tell I'm quite keen, as the only two videos I've posted here on Sam Versus World are from this two-man novelty act from New Zealand. It really is some sort of transcendent, brilliant comedy, and I thank the folks at HBO for coming up with something that will replace the now-tedious Entourage.
To follow up on earlier events, Jarvis Moss is going to be fine, and should be back on the field tomorrow. Our company website came back up, so I got lots of work done. And my burrito from Chipotle was outstanding.
Arivaderci!(sp?)
Monday, monday
What else can you really say about a day that:
-began with my company's website being 100% down, meaning I could do no work
-continued with the Broncos' first round pick, Jarvis Moss, being taken down by that damned practice grass at Dove Valley (see the picture above, compliments of DenverBroncos.com)
-has not yet reached lunchtime
Clearly, not my day. Now here's this:
Me? I think I'll attempt suicide via Chipotle. Mmm, chicken.
Sunday, August 5, 2007
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