Saturday, November 26, 2005

don't miss me too much.

i'm going away again. for about 10 days. jobby. oakland, pomona, las vegas, phoenix. my mom is meeting up with me in vegas next weekend. she went once in the 70s with my dad - she told me that she was waiting for him near a men's room, wearing her awesome terrycloth halter-top pantsuit, and some hayseed said to his family, "see, i toldja that vegas is fulla hookers. look, there's one right there" and pointed at her. i doubt that this will happen on her second trip, but if it does i will be sure to let you know.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Monday, November 21, 2005

bunch of random crap

the regional kids and the "coasties" (lame term) at uw-madison want to rumble. it's just the classic midwesterners-are-corn-field-hicks and east-coast-or-west-coast-kids-are-spoiled-ass-brats argument, and neither of them are necessarily true. the coastal pains in the ass that they describe are exact replicas of who i see on a daily basis here in lincoln park, and i knew plenty of uncool and unwealthy social retards out east. stop the hate - just drink some cheap booze and hook up, kids - that's what college is for.

this is why i love academia: studying why bad saturday morning tv shows featuring cardboard sets and k-mart clothes is a dangerous medium for proliferating stereotypes and poisoning our culture - an essay entitled "Hey, hey, hey, hey! What is going on here? How Saved By The Bell turned a generation racist, sexist, and classist." thanks for the forward, cd.

i actually really admire kanye for talking about homophobia, especially in the hip-hop world. while he doesn't really step up and tell people to stop being hateful retards, he does admit that he struggles with his own homophobia and is trying to come to terms with it. i can't say that it's really all that admirable that he is finally okay with travelling with his gay interior decorator. that's not really a remarkable stance; plus, why would you take your decorator on the road with you, j-lo? (second item on page).

i'm a big fan of needlepoint and cross-stitch. correction: of COOL needlepoint and cross-stitch. i have been working on this for a year (i only craft in the winter - i'll be bringing it out again soon). it's for my bathroom. click here for some pretty rad celebrity mugshots rendered in thread.

it's old, but it's good: click here for one of the worst videos ever produced. dude is hideous, the song is awful, and i didn't know that in order to be patriotic you had to have horrible fashion sense and cavort with angels. are they angels or winged fairies? why he doesn't ride off into the rainbow on a pegasus is beyond me - probably not in the budget. instead he disappears into explosions of light. which makes me wonder: is he god?

if you thought that was bad, click here for video clips. here is an FAQ about the show, which features a crazy elderly piano teacher's students singing on peoria's public access channel. just watch the first if you can only tolerate one - you'll get the idea.

remember this? dude. interesting that the guy that started it felt a need to sign off and offer a final thought (just like springer).

also: a page of mp3s of remixes of depeche mode's violator. pretty good.

free downloads

the details are sketchy in my head, but causes, the child abuse treatment center that eb is interning at, was chosen by a booking company as its beneficiary for the year, and designated certain shows as fundraisers for the organization. so the ted leo + pharmacists show at the metro two weeks ago was such a fundraiser, and eb handed out info on her org and got to stay for the show. other friends who do not know eb were in attendance, and i asked if they knew that it was a benefit, but they had no idea - they just wanted to go to the show. regardless, causes made a lot of money and eb held onto a card that advertises this deal for me (i couldn't go).

go to to get 50 free songs. it is a subscription service, so you have to enter your credit card, but as soon as you choose your 50, you can cancel. they have a really decent selection, featuring indie bands and things that you might have a harder time finding on itunes or other pay sites. i got pj harvey's dry, the pixies' trompe le monde (both albums that i used to own and, between six moves since college, disappeared), and a whole mess of random songs. i was really happy to find chris connelley's "july," as i am now one song closer to completing my playlist recreation of the mixtape "oh, the utter tomfoolery of the summer of 1998" - yes, i am an obsessive).

also happy about scoring the spoon ep "love ways," which i knew nothing about, the coldplay ep "brothers and sisters," which was basically what they used to get signed, and my morning jacket doing "suspicious minds" (best elvis song ever) at the 9:30 club in dc.

Sunday, November 20, 2005

solitary man

saw Walk The Line on friday. it was excellent. i'm sure you've read reviews that rave about joaquin and reese, and they are right. i loved jamie foxx in Ray, but that movie felt like a made-for-VH1 docudrama. this feels like a real film, and the appearances of elvis, jerry lee lewis, and waylon jennings don't feel like bad imitations (shooter jennings, waylon's hygenically-challenged son, actually plays him in WTL). jamie foxx did a great ray charles, but joaquin was downright eerie as johnny cash - the voice, the stance, the dry humor. and, since i am not a real critic, i can say that it doesn't hurt at all that he is motherfuckin HOTT.

what's also interesting about the movie is that it makes you realize that the myth of johnny cash is a lot more hardscrabble and badass than he actually was, but that doesn't make him any less authentic. he never did serve time at folsom prison, and never shot a man in reno just to watch him die. his life and demeanor were really like the lyrics to "man in black," my favorite johnny cash song - he is pained by how hard life can be, and it is always a struggle to be a good man.

I wear the black for the poor and the beaten down/Livin' in the hopeless, hungry side of town/I wear it for the prisoner who has long paid for his crime/But is there because he's a victim of the times.

also, his love for june was just excruciating, and is the driving force behind the movie. everyone knows that he died of a broken heart in 03, four months after she had. they're both in the video for "hurt," which is probably the best thing that has ever aired on mtv, and it's amazing how matter-of-fact his mortality is portrayed. he's just saying, i'm old, i'm dying, and you will, too, someday.

his dad is played by the T-1000 in Terminator 2, the guy with the ears whose brother is in filter, and he is just as mean in WTL as he is in T2. his mom is played by shelby lynne, one of my favorite Tragic Ladies of Country.

johnny and i have the same birthday. um, different year, though.

watch the trailer here.

watch the "hurt" video here.

Friday, November 18, 2005

jar jar

i found this on a star wars fansite. don't ask why i was there; it's not what you think.

Thursday, November 17, 2005

isn't it weird?*

i am not going to explain myself, or apologize, for liking the band hanson. you know that, somewhere, deep down, buried in the cockles of your tar-black heart, you like shitty music sometimes, too. is hanson a shitty band? yes, but it is sublimely good shitty music.

tc is a good friend. she gets it. she's funny as shit and she likes lame things, too, and isn't ashamed to admit it. i don't know anyone - really, no one - that would agree to go see hanson with me but her. granted, we laughed at the idea, and our tongues were so far in our cheeks that we poked holes, but we bought tickets. we even had a game plan - go eat hot dogs at portillo's after work, go to the house of blues, sit on stools at the ledge on the periphery of the club, get drunk, laugh and enjoy the awesomely bad music. we saw institute together not too long ago at the house of blues and expected the same number of people in attendance, if not fewer. hanson is not what i think to be a popular band. no one my age likes them, or ever has (i have been mocked for years for my hanson album collection). they released their second album in 1999 and i read that it sold 300,000 copies, which is a total and utter failure. i could sell 300,000 copies of a record, and i'm not signed to island/def jam. i was one of those people and i listened to it a lot as i drove through backwoods new hampshire the year i lived there. they were dropped by their label and self-released their new album (which i bought on amazon). they even released a documentary, Strong Enough to Break, about the pain of being dropped and doing it on their own terms and all that - I Am Trying To Break Your Heart it is not. i know someone that works for the chicago film fest and he told me that it had been submitted this summer for possible inclusion. he promptly threw it away. i was under the impression that the kidz don't like hanson; they all want to listen to fall out boy or whatever. i thought that no one liked them but me and tc. we imagined that we would show up to the venue, loll about, go claim some stools, have a sedate and drunken time watching the band chug through their old hits (written when they were like 11), call it a night. i wanted to take special care to observe who was in the audience with us, assuming it would be all girls perhaps our age, and wonder WHY they were there.

not so much. as we approached the house of blues, we saw the line. the innapropriately long, excited line, complete with scalpers and security trying to direct the swarm. it snaked around the corner and was full of high school-aged kids, boys and girls, and some adults (which seemed even weirder to me). there was an ambulance near the door, the way there is when you go see a big-name band. tc noted that it was in case a girl got her period for the first time that night. the club itself was packed. we were SO confused. this was not what we had imagined at all. we found ourselves in the mommy section (aka the bar in the back of the room) and watched as hordes as 14-to-17-year-olds freaked out, texted one another, ran around all giddy, put their new hanson hoodies on over their clothes. i thought i would feel super lame for going, but in a way that was like, "yeah, this IS sad, and i couldn't help but show up for it," not like, "i could be your mother. or your step-mom, at least."

the two opening bands sucked - what four (TERRIBLE NAME) and the pat mcgee band (the poor man's goo goo dolls - and i mean "iris"-era goo goo dolls). pat mcgee told a very telling story, about how last night he arrived to midway super late, as in when he needed to be getting ready to go on stage, and had to run through the airport, but complimented us on our el system and how fast it is - DUDE, you had to take the el to your own show? no one was there to pick you up? you can't afford a cab? tragic. so tc and i slammed some vodka cranberries and watched in horror as an obviously drunk (for the first time) girl in a camisole and heels fell over and rolled around laughing. if you ever think about having children, go spend an evening in the company of 2,000 high schoolers, and then go get your tubes tied.

so the curtain separated . . . and, umm . . . hanson . . . was playing . . . "optimistic" . . . by radiohead . . . from Kid A . . . holy christ, the crowd confused me enough, and now this? what the FUCK? it was so goddamned surreal. it was a more, err, harmonized and upbeat version of "optimistic," but . . . errrrr . . .

so i wont bother posting a set list, because you wont care anyway. they did do covers of bill wither's "ain't no sunshine," one of the best songs of all time, and they did an okay blue-eyed soul version, as well as a doobie brother's song (which i had heard before but i don't know what it's called, since i don't like shitty music - wink), and closed (with the pat mcgee band - ick) with "sweet home chicago." they did an acoustic "mmmbop" and sang a lot of songs off of all three of their albums. it was a good show. i was annoyed by the hunchbacked 25-year-old who looked 40 and went alone but came to make friends in the mommy section, as she kept yelling shit about how hot hanson is and how she wants to fuck them and how great their asses are and all sorts of other creepy seemingly-pedophiliac things. but i'm glad i went. i have liked them since they first came out, a sweet little christian family band of three pre-pubescent girl-lookin kids, and i keep telling people that SOMEDAY they will surprise everyone with how good they actually are. at this point i am surprised - not that they are any good, but that other people know this, too. and they're all 10 years younger than me.

* title would be taken from a song on their first album. featuring the most introspective lyrics ever penned by an 11-year-old: "Isn't it strange how we all feel a little bit weird sometimes?"

if you don't want to be my friend anymore, i understand.

stuff to read

john cusack wrote a thoughtful and articulate post on arianna huffington's blog on the state of our administration and gave shout-outs to jon stewart, hunter s thompson and martin luther king, jr. just one more reason to love him.

also, pete townsend has a blogspot blog. he's a grouchy old jerk, but in a loveable way. he appears to be writing a shitty novel and posting it chapter-by-chapter.

this website scares me - don't click around too much. i can smell their paranoia through my laptop. they are REAL americans - the kind that have bunkers and stockpiled weapons and join militias because they know that the government is monitoring them and that THE DAY is coming. anyway, they break down how the illuminati is controlling us when we watch the wizard of oz.

katie holmes actually traded up?

wow. she sure knows how to pick em. chris klein is a TOTAL DOUCHE.

i didn't know that starring in Rollerball gave you a life-long pass to act like a woman-hating delusional assclown.

read here. thanks to rb for the forward.

ps he ugly.

like i needed another way to procrastinate

the suicide girls website has interviews, not just punk and indie girls' boobs. i'm actually really excited by the loooooong list of rad people that they've spoken with, and the interviews are short and free of smarm. egg-cellent.

click here for the sarah silverman interview. i really like her, and i liked Jesus Is Magic, but i wish i hadn't read so many articles and interviews with her before i saw it, because i read every great joke before i heard them in the movie. this new yorker article is great, and investigates the fall-out (including a possible lawsuit) from the aristocrats. see JIM and then read.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

a smoker's rant

okay, so i am a smoker. i have been an every-day smoker for . . . oh god, it is so appalling to say it, but ten years. going on eleven. ouch. literally and figuratively. i quit for a summer - the summer of 2002, actually, when i popped zyban, which worked - i didn't want to smoke because i didn't want to do anything, which included working, eating, talking, or caring. don't give an anti-depressant to someone who isn't depressed. it takes all of your moods - good and bad - and irons them out flat. i missed smoking, i missed drinking (couldn't on the meds) and i frankly missed myself. so i bought a pack on september 10, 2002, knowing full well that the next day would be spent sucking down camel lights in quiet introspection, and that is where i have stayed. i am a lot more poor than i would be if i had never started, and i would most likely be healthier (though i feel too young to really notice yet) and i bet i would smell better (not that i smell, unless i've been out to the bar, thanks). i never would have fractured my ribs in college (from coughing, due to smoking while having bronchitis. yes, it is possible). i wouldn't be slowly but surely breaking my mom's heart if i hadn't started smoking. but i did, and i haven't stopped yet.

i am torn about this. yes, I KNOW it's bad for me and it'll probably kill me (i like to point out that no one will say "she shouldn't have smoked" when i get hit by a chicago city bus or, more likely, catch avian flu). yes, I HATE the tobacco industry. no, I DON'T want to bum you a cigarette (but i always do). what can i say? shabby excuses, i'm still a smoker.

but this website pisses me off. "my rights as a smoker," sponsored by rj reynolds. nice evil corporate last-ditch effort to retain smokers: appeal to the NRA nut in all of us (my tinfoil hat is picking up the signal that you want to control my life). sure, you have rights: the right to smoke if you want to. but not the right to smoke wherever you want to. is it a drag to have to step outside for your smoke because of bans in bars and restaurants? when it's cold, sure. but shut up. rooms smell better when there isn't smoke in them. non-smokers hate cigarette smoke (and i hate pipe and cigar smoke). complain that it has never been proven that second-hand smoke causes cancer, but you can't rule it out, and, let's face it, it's a pretty logical conclusion. they have linked second-hand smoke to lots of bad things, especially in children (SIDS and asthma for starters. which reminds me, i have a really horrific joke for you that sf heard on the radio - Q: what's a foot long and makes women scream? A: crib death. that's just terrible). you don't complain that you can't light up at your desk, in the grocery store, or at the movies, do you? you can still smoke in your car, in your house, or, like me, on your back porch. if you have kids, you should probably stick to the back porch. i'm not thrilled with cities that try to ban smoking on sidewalks and such, but sometimes it makes sense - like in front of a school or near a building's entrance. they're not trying to PUNISH smokers, they're just trying to protect non-smokers, and that's fine.

as a drinker, you have rights, and with those rights come responsibilities (to not drive under the influence, to not be drunk at work, to not be a loud jackass in the alley outside my apartment when i'm trying to sleep). being a smoker has responsibilities, too - different ones (like not forcing your smoke on someone else) - but it's more about being a rational and nice person than screaming about how you have rights.

they have a point about the taxes, though. i can get a pack in some states for around three bucks; i pay about $5.75 in chicago. mad tears for the first pack i ever bought: $1.19 marlboro lights when i was 14.

from the website:

Illinois's excise tax per pack of cigarettes: $0.980
Illinois's excise tax collection for the fiscal year ending June 2004: $744,402,000
Sales tax on tobacco products: 6.25%
Tobacco products sales tax collection for the fiscal year ending June 2004: $189,078,000
Local tax on tobacco products: $94,252,187
Federal excise tax per pack of cigarettes: $0.39
Total federal excise tax collections in fiscal year 2004: $7,778,569,117
Number of six-packs of beer that must be sold in Illinois to produce the same state excise tax revenue generated by one carton of cigarettes: 94.2
Number of bottles of wine that must be sold in Illinois to produce the same state excise tax revenue generated by one carton of cigarettes: 67.8

but no one has the right to be preachy and self-righteous (especially ex-smokers). i am still pissed about the man that walked up to me, three kids in tow, as i smoked outside of the sucksville mall during my break from the record store when i was in college: he marched up and said/yelled, "you ought to be ashamed of yourself! smoking will kill you!" i'm sure that he was trying to make a point for his kids, but learning by asshole example is no way to raise children. i just looked at him and said, "really? i've never heard that before." he gave me a dirty look and went inside.

ps i took these photos in ireland this summer. i would say that our surgeon general is a pussy in comparison for his lame warnings on american cigarette packs, but i heard him speak last april and he is actually a total badass - former street kid high-school drop-out purple-heart vietnam vet. you should read about him - i seriously loved him.

i don't say no to "free"

this is going to sound really strange, but trust me.

remember that song "flagpole sitta" by harvey danger? late 90s? one-hit wonders? no? that's okay.

go to their website and download their new album. they say that if you want to help them out you can buy a copy or you can make a small donation on their website. that's it. no questions asked. i had read in various music magazines and websites that they had a new album (and i just thought "uh, okay.") but reviews have said that it's good (pitchfork even gave it a 6.9 - i was surprised to see it on there, mostly because my only memory of this band is the number of their albums we sold to middle schoolers when i was working at a lame mall record chain during college, so "harvey danger" sort of equals "eve 6" in my head).

so i downloaded it today and i was pleasantly surprised. i like it. it has horns and piano and guitars and it's sort of derivative of every 90s band that you've ever liked, but sometimes that's enough. actually, listening to this album made me miss possum dixon.

say hello to my little poster

this is what i'm getting tb for xmas. (he told me to get it for him, i'm not ruining the surprise by posting it here). if you look closely (go to the website), the image is comprised of the entirety of the scarface script, handwritten and totally legible. rad.

the other art offered on the website - not so much.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

i have a cold.

today's first shuffle song: "No Surprises" - Radiohead, from OK Computer

i don't know how you can't love this album. i just don't.

this photo has nothing to do with anything other than i like it.

cornucopia of randomness

here: the history and socio-psychological unveilings of mounting a stuffed animal to the grille of your truck.

here: if you buy my house, i will marry you. surprisingly, she is attractive, and her house is nice. unsurprisingly, she is also apparently bat-shit crazy.

here: david lynch webcasts a message every morning from his home in la. he tells you what the weather is like.

worst joke i have probably ever heard, for a variety of reasons, not the least being because i dread my impending avian flu and subsequent death:

Doctor says to patient: "I have some bad news about the bird flu you have caught."
Patient: "Oh, no. What is it doc?"
Doc says: "It's unTweetable."

here: do you think pat robertson is insane enough to maybe stage a huge disaster in dover, pa, just to be able to say "i told you so"? all fingers point to him if there are ever any mishaps. i think the real question, pat, isn't if dover voted god out of their town, but if they have disturbed the mighty force of the flying spaghetti monster. i fear his noodly appendage smiting us all.

here: that slutbag jessica cutler is up to it again. she gives new meaning to the term "media whore." keep your boob in your shirt, for the last time. we already saw you in playboy. errr, wait, we saw you on playboy's website - you didn't even make the paper edition. everyone needs to quit giving her writing jobs, and someone needs to punch her in the face for being such a whiny coked-up brat.

i'll probably read one of these. haven't decided which yet, though.

similarities: both under-thirty biracial women who have acclaim in their respective fields and have published novels recently, and the new york times and washington post and other highly-respected media are covering and reviewing their works.

one happens to be british, is both a best-selling author and the darling of literary circles, and salman rushdie provided a quote for her debut’s book jacket. the other is a hollywood child-of-the-famous sad little rich girl ex-addict “reality”-tv star. when i said that they were both acclaimed, i meant that one of them is the radcliffe fellow at harvard and the other one . . . well, i think us weekly and in touch are always gushing about how great she looks as a 70-pounder.

the times explains nicole’s foray into, ahem, writing, and offers a cute diss:

In this thinly veiled roman à clef, which Ms. Richie said she wrote herself, more than a few characters bear a startling resemblance to people in her real life. Parker, she admitted, is based on her before her stint in rehab for a heroin addiction, and DJ Ray on her fiancé, Adam Goldberg (known professionally as DJ AM), right down to the gastric bypass surgery. There is even a character called Nicole Richie. (Step aside, Jonathan Safran Foer.)

the post manages to talk to zadie without asking about where she got her shoes. weird.

i saw zadie read at olsson’s books in dc (the same store mentioned in the article) when she was on her white teeth book tour in 2000. she was sweet, talking to everyone that bought her book and stood in line. she wrote top-five lists in everyone’s books (omg, we could soooo be friends). the girl in front of me had her dedicate the book “to sushi,” so she got giddy and said “oooh, a new one!!!” and wrote her list in my book:

Top 5 Sushi Choices according 2 me
1. Tuna
2. Salmon
3. Octopus
4. Clam
5. Eel

so now you know what to order next time you get together for dinner.

Monday, November 14, 2005

when the marginally famous have internet connections, time to spare

tom green has a blog. he posted his home phone number on it and wants you to call him. why did drew leave him?

i must say that freddy got fingered was either completely repulsively idiotic and left me partially mentally retarded for two weeks after watching it, though i did enjoy it, or else it was so amazingly ahead of its time that one day my children will speak in hushed reverence about his masterpiece of surrealism. i haven't decided yet.

it's remarkable how deftly that movie murdered his career. now he sets up a webcam and prays that pauly shore will return his calls.

ag's FY05 boyfriend - aka king of the diss, and the screenwriter of the best movie ever - wrote a sublimely mean review of fgf.

one of my favorite people is my friend freddie. he's the demented little brother i never had. i have never fingered him.

oh, and peter gallagher has a myspace page featuring a stream of his album.

thanks for the disturbing forwards, tb.

purely subjective, you realize.

i've been seeing a lot of "worst record album covers ever" websites lately. JOYCE is always on there - that's not a new one, even my retard ex has it posted as one of his friendster photos. or at least he did, back in the day. pitchfork has a pretty extensive feature (forwarded to me by jk - thanks jk!) and focuses on more obscure indie releases, while this website, which i was directed to off of the rock snob website (which mob sent me - thanks mob!), has a lot of old-school records that look TRULY indie (like, maybe the band played their church basement twice) if not self-released.

if you really loved me you would track the Satan Is Real album down for me so i can hang it next to my framed copy of the Music For Pussycats . . . And You Know Who You Are LP.

i happen to really like these two examples. german shepherd/reindeer wearing a lei and unicorns. did you know that unicorns vomit rainbows when they're getting fucked? unless that's a zebra with a horn. i couldn't really say.

Sunday, November 13, 2005


cd sent me this with the subject "these kids have the coolest parents ever."

Thursday, November 10, 2005

ok go buy their new album

so where have i been? west virginia, virginia, dc and ohio, of course.

saw ok go tonight at schuba's. i have subscribed to jane magazine since it began in like 96 (i was a complete sassy devotee in high school and, after it folded, jane pratt began her exercise in narcissism shortly after), and my interest in it has completely waned, but tonight totally made up for the $10 i pay a year. i received an invite in the mail a few weeks ago for me to come to a jane- and lacoste-sponsored show, and i have been listening to the new ok go album a lot lately, and they mentioned something about free drinks, and i happily called in my rsvp plus three.

the opening band was tiny steps, from detroit. they were sunshiny indie pop and i liked them enough to give the guitarist $5 after they played for one of their cds. he was very gracious and sweet, introducing himself and thanking me. i'll have to see if their album is any good.

ok go's aesthetic is pretty great - the background for the stage is a bunch of slides showing awesomely bad 70s fabrics and prints, and they are dapper dressers - tight pants, ugly shirts, mismatched ties, narrow shoes, sparkly broaches. style over substance maybe, but their songs are rockin power pop that is actually really fun to watch. the lead singer is one charismatic motherfucker and something of an attention whore - totally pretty, good singer, likes to talk to the audience. tc was annoyed with his bedroom eyes and hott sneer - it's sexy when that just so happens to be how someone sings, but he looks like he practices it in the mirror. despite that, he IS pretty (and he would agree). they covered the violent femme's "prove my love" - which featured him running out into the audience to just shout the chorus. all the girls in the audience (and since this was a jane-sponsored event, that would be 90 percent) could not stop screaming. i heard a lot of retard "his ass is so hot" comments, and yeah, it was, but i honestly think that they're a fun band, and would happily go see them even if they all looked like the bass player. tb and his ladyfriend js came with us, and he smiled and said "the girls sure like em" which translates into "they're a GIRL band," but he liked them anyway.

they played most of the new album, a few songs from their first (i still love "get over it") and they claimed that they hate encores (of course, the singer can't just say it, he has to talk for about three minutes about how his sister saw depeche mode when she was in high school, and they had played like 12 encores, probably because, she thought, they were the best audience ever, but they did that every night of their tour, and he thinks that it's degrading to have to scream and clap for the band to come back, so they don't do encores, but . . .) and then they did their rad-as-shit choreographed dance to "a million ways," which left everyone screaming and laughing. it was awesome. mad props.

best free show ever. well, no, second-best (first would be coldplay at the beacon). i hate corporate sponsorship of art, but if it means i get to see a band for free (plus free booze), i'll take it.