College chicks are totally different, bro. They're all serious and shit. They all talk about world issues and "ecolomological" crap.

Internets: Hey, Gleemonex! Keepin it real, I see -- how're them potato chips for breakfast?

Gleemonex: Pretty good, actually. Shut up. How you doin?

Internets: Awesome as always, what else, DUHHHH.

Gleemonex: Mkay ... so what brings you here?

Internets: Heh. You.

Gleemonex: Me?

Internets: Yeah, I totally saw what you did there, and it made me laugh more than it really deserved.

Gleemonex: Huh?

Internets: In the Olde Hometowne newspaper -- the Bugle-Noisemaker?

Gleemonex: Oh, thaaat. Heh. Yeah. I kill me. It's just that this half-smart numbnuts was going on and on about stuff --

Internets: I know! He's all "led by the most dangerous man to our freedoms that ever occupied the White House" this, and "slip it under the table and backdoor it in" that --

Gleemonex: And besides laughing at the mixed and unintentionally suggestive metaphors, I had to respond.

Internets: You always do, don't you?

Gleemonex: Hell yes. Compulsive sassmouth here. But it was so stupid, what he was saying, that I couldn't do like a point-by-point critique, so I focused in on one of his stupider rote little sayings --

Internets: "'Drunk sailors on shore leave', eh? Why must you insult our troops?" Ha!!!

Gleemonex: Thanks, man. Just doin my part.

Internets: Much appreciated.

New discovery: An exquisite little artisanal beverage you probably haven't heard of -- Coca-Cola.

Y'all, sorry for the radio silence, but I been in tha ATL (I'm powerless to stop myself from calling it that -- utterly powerless) on a work conference that was srsly the tits (one where you actually learn a lot of relevant stuff -- who knew they had those?). It was held at the Coca-Cola world HQ, and I'm telling you, if I weren't already a lifelong loyalist/fanatic of the brand already, by now I'd be either hating its sugary carbonated GUTS or brainwashed into drinking nothing else for the rest of my life -- talk about saturation, hoooo boy.

I wish I could've stayed longer, made a little vacay out of it with Mr. & Kid Gleemonex, but the timing & logistics just were not to be this time around. Just know that Atlantans are cool and I would like to see y'all again some time. Plus also, if you ever get the chance to stay at the dubby (a W hotel), you should. They're the tits!

Finally, one thing I would've told y'all earlier if I'd had the time: Chris Murphy totally got my Stu Sutcliffe joke! Me and him and Mr. Gleemonex were talking after Sloan's show Friday night at Slim's after he signed the setlist I bruised the SHIT out of my knee trying to climb up onstage to get (I failed, but Mr. Gleemonex has long arms like a Gumby octopus and just reached over and casually took it for me, so, win!). I told Chris Murphy he was my hero ("Chris Murphy you're my hero!"), and we talked bass, and he showed us the terrible scar from a hit-and-run accident he was in a few months ago, and it was kewl. Goddamn I love that band.

Ahhh, the beach. I used to love the beach.

Oh man, Internets -- did this genius post ever speak to me! Herewith, I give you (with some crossover from the original):

Things That Messed Me Up As A Kid

--The typewriter-on-wheels on Sesame Street. I somehow equated it, in my mind, with the cement truck that came to pour us a carport when I was about three, and it was fucking terrifying. Like, leave-the-room terrifying.

--The no-mouth girl from the Twilight Zone movie. HOW COULD SHE EAT WITHOUT A MOUTH???

--The nowhere-place in the Twilight Zone movie. What's scarier than being literally nowhere?

--Lithgow getting his face squeezed by the plane-shredding fantod thingy, which then wagged its scrapey finger in his face and flew off laughing its hideous demonic laugh. In the Twilight Zone movie.

--The staticky TV that was the portal to the beyond in Poltergeist. Channels don't go off the air anymore, but when they did, back in the day, I would do ANYTHING to turn off the TV before that happened.

--The toys-come-alive scene from Poltergeist. To this day, I get the heebie-jeebies just thinking of it. I might die of a heart attack if I got locked in a toy store overnight.

--The evil tree from Poltergeist. The parents said it was just his imagination and then it GRABBED THAT BOY!!! Who the fuck let me watch this movie?

--Charlotte's Web. I cried because a fucking spider died. That must be some good writin, because y'all, I would personally be the architect of a goddamn arachnid holocaust if I were sure it would work (you come at the king, you best not miss -- any survivors would have it OUT for me). (More than they do now, that is.)

--The fluorescent ear worm things they put in that guy's ears in Beastmaster. They strapped him down! They put THINGS in his EARS! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!

--The Kraken.

--The mud baths in Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Once again, who the fuck let me watch this movie? There was NO REASON for that. And this scene is the reason I will never, ever take a mud bath (besides the fact that, well, you're naked in mud), and I can't be comfortable in that scene in The Player where Tim Robbins and what's-her-face are hiding out in a desert spa. Even though I know there's no zombies in that one.

--Ichabod's ride home in the animated Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Holy shit, that's intense, and we saw it like four times a year in elementary school, sitting Indian-style on the floor of the stage at one end of the cafeteria, with the curtain pulled and the projector whirring.

--The end of Greg Kihn's Jeopardy video -- you know, where all the old couples' hands and arms start melding together and he's all tripping out on being trapped into holy matrimony? Yikes.

Beers & Weirs

Anybody else ever get the feeling that the Olympic Village is just this enormous, seething pit of nonstop 24-hour anything-goes bangin?

I mean, it's not something I give a huge amount of thought to, but -- srsly. Dontcha think?

Someday I'll do a post that's not sex-related, I promise. Probably once I'm done reading last week's NYT magazine cover story about the Texas schoolbook commission and how they're openly working to force Jesus down our collective national host-hole. It's horrifying, but I could not possibly be less surprised. Unfortunately.

Eeeease the seat back a little ...

So on the Internets the other day I saw a bunch of links to the Billboard 50 Sexiest Songs of All Time. And y’all, that list was so thoroughgoingly bogus that I’m not even going to link to it. It’s THAT bogus. You want it, you go find it yourself. To remedy the error, I’ve made my own list. This is the real list, and I am prepared to defend each and every one of these. It may not be complete – in fact, I reserve the right to add stuff later, or to add stuff you remind me of, because I’m certain I’m missing some songs – swiss cheez for brains, the older I get. Now, one note: Don’t go reading Gleemonex personal history into the explanations – they’re just images/thoughts conjured by the songs, not secret oversharings. And with that, here you go, Internets:

The More-Than-50 Sexiest Songs of All Time

60) Never Let Me Down Again Depeche Mode
• Tough to pick just one Mode. Master & Servant creeps me out, as does Little 15, so …
59) True Spandau Ballet
• One of several that owes its place to the movie it was in. This one had Jake Ryan.
58) The Waiting Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers
• Well, it is the hardest part, no?
57) The Other Man Sloan
• I know you got a man in the picture, but it hasn’t stopped me yet
56) Hotel California Eagles
• Dark desert highway, cool wind in hair … yeah.
55) Lilac Wine Jeff Buckley
• Stalkery yearning. Good times.
54) Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want The Smiths
• For once in my life, let me, let me, let me … (also: Bueller)
53) Until You Break Matthew Sweet
• One of several that’s more sad breakupy sexy
52) So Cruel U2
• Oh yes.
51) She Bop Cyndi Lauper
• I’ll go blind …
50) Honky Tonk Women Rolling Stones
• One of the few convergences between the real list and Billboard’s
49) Drop Jesus & Mary Chain
• Because, damn.
48) Superstar Sonic Youth (cover)
• Total stalkerazzi, love-knife material
47) Frank Sinatra Cake
• Something to play at the end of the world
46) Come Together Beatles
• Well OK then!
45) Edge of Seventeen Stevie Nicks
• You karaoke it after 2:00 a.m., drunk, with somebody you’re about to go home with
44) Waterfall Jimi Hendrix
• Ahh, Singles, your influence reaches across the years …
43) Lyin' Eyes Eagles
• Cheatin and cryin. And, of course, lyin.
42) When Doves Cry Prince
• Dig, if you will ...
41) Need You Tonight INXS
• Come ovah here! Hutchence, goddamn.
40) Let's Get It On Jack Black (cover)
• Sacrilege, I know, but I choose this over Marvin’s original.
39) Peaceful Easy Feeling Eagles
• And I wanna sleep with you in the desert tonight / with a million stars all around
38) Seven-Year Ache Golden Smog (cover)
• Cheatin, way past cryin
37) Under the Milky Way The Church
• Remember that VW commercial where the kids decide not to go the party?
36) Jack the Ripper Morrissey
• So it’s about a serial killer. But still.
35) Just Like Honey Jesus & Mary Chain
• Sofia Coppola can’t just have this. It’s mine too.
34) You Got Lucky Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers
• You don’t leave me. I leave you.
33) Santa Monica Everclear
• Swim out past the breakers, watch the world die
32) F*** You Gently Tenacious D
• No, I’m not kidding. The D rules.
31) Superstition Stevie Wonder
• Fonky.
30) Billie Jean Michael Jackson
• The bass. Oh my Shatner, the bass.
29) Kashmir Led Zeppelin
• The rest of Zep’s too obvious; this one’s another track for the end of the world.
28) Halleluja Jeff Buckley (cover)
• Sounds like a beautiful guy with mental problems. Ace choice there.
27) Nobody Does It Better Radiohead (cover)
• Sometimes I wish someone would …
26) Girl, You'll Be a Woman Soon Urge Overkill (cover)
• Creepy premise, but killer execution.
25) How Deep Is Your Love Bee Gees
• Shivery goodness.
24) Hungry Like the Wolf Duran Duran
• Wine coolers, femmy boys, hunger.
23) Darling Nikki Prince
• I honestly didn’t get what he was talking about till, like, 1995.
22) Jamie's Cryin Van Halen
• Front seat of the car.
21) Gigantic Pixies
• A big, big love!
20) Walking After You Foo Fighters
• Grohl, y’all. GROHL.
19) Almost Gold Jesus & Mary Chain
• Late afternoon, post-shower, warm sun.
18) I Love Rock n Roll Joan Jett
• She picks up this 17-year-old & doesn’t even get his name? Wow.
17) Fascination Street The Cure
• Cut the conversation …
16) How Soon Is Now The Smiths
• Pure sonic sexuality
15) Panama Van Halen
• More about the breakdown than anything else
14) Stone in Love Journey
• Those were the best times, most of all
13) Moving in Stereo The Cars
• You know why, and it could turn a straight girl
12) Wave of Mutilation (UK Surf version) Pixies
• You girls know why, and it involves (unfortunately) Christian Slater
11) Don't Worry Baby Beach Boys
• It’s not about a car, y’all.
10) 16, Maybe Less Iron & Wine
• Yesterday my dream was of you
9) Heavy Metal Drummer Wilco
• Playin Kiss covers, beautiful and stoned
8) Take My Breath Away Berlin
• There’s not a female over the age of 30 or under 45 reading this who doesn’t know why.
7) Hey Pixies
• Go “uhhh!” all night
6) Everything in its Right Place Radiohead
• The intro alone gets this song to #6
5) Kinda I Want To NIN
• Dirtay. Reeeeal dirtay.
4) All the Time in the World Louis Armstrong
• Nothing more, nothing less, only love
3) Teenage Lust Jesus & Mary Chain
• She’s been told about sin, now, but it feels fine
2) Wicked Game Chris Isaak
• Driving at night, radio playing, haunted
1) Son of a Preacher Man Dusty Springfield
• The only boy who could ever teach me …

I can barely see the road, from all the heat comin off

Listen, Microsoft Word Spell-Check, you dumb shit: The word "Halen" does not need to be checked.

This post brought to the Internets by the fact that I am creating a rebuttal (heh, reBUTTal)to that idiotic Billboard list of the 50 Sexiest Songs of All Time. I rule.

Foursquare Tuesday

Random bits of this, that, and the other thing:

--On last night’s Cuddy-centric House episode (no spoilers): I didn’t mind them straying from the formula, and it was interesting to get her side of the story. But a few things:
1) Those blouses, my god. Her funbags are RIGHT OUT THERE. You can practically see the nipular region. People, this is not workwear, not even in California, not even for a girl fresh out of college who doesn’t know any better yet and doesn’t have much to lose – for a professional woman at the height of her career, among people whom she wants to take her seriously, it is RIDICULOUS. I’m not saying it’s not hot – and I know this is a teevee show, all right? I’m just saying, the Dean of Medicine should not dress like she works at Wet Seal.
2) I am troubled by how many opportunities this gave the show to call her a bitch. I get that a woman in her position probably is not unused to being called bitch, but it … felt a little like “Hey, here’s your big episode, bitch. What? Powerful women get called ‘bitch’ all the time, right?” An excuse to do, in context, what they sort of wanted to do all along. Yuck.
3) With regard to that “professional woman at the height of her career” stuff: This is what she busted her ass her entire life for? To take flak from all sides, to be constantly harangued and bullied and importuned, to have no time for her kid or her boyfriend or her yoga or her fucking lunch? Nothing is worth that kind of life, to me. No amount of money, no amount of power or prestige. Fuck that noise.

--Indeed yes, good sir: the stone cold truth about apostrophes.

--A short story which is not for everybody. Woof. I warn you, this one will stay with you. You’ll think about it at four a.m., you’ll think about it on the bus, you’ll get a shiver of dread down the spine out of nowhere on a clear blue day.


--A little bit of how I’m feeling in my professional life these days, courtesy of the true-Jesus geniuses at Married to the Sea:

marriedtothesea.com

Next stop: rocket science.

Speaking of the Olde Hometowne:

Facts About My Salutatorian Speech at High School Graduation, May 1992:


--As I gave it, my hair was hot-rolled, my face was on, I was wearing earrings (pretty much the last hurrah for all three of those things, come to think of it), and I knew my legs looked good even though I was wearing white hose, and white heels from Payless. (The white was mandatory; the heels were from Payless because [see the first half of this sentence].)

--I quoted Paula Poundstone.

--Also the Rolling Stones.

--And maybe David Letterman?

--I made what seemed funny at the time but is in retrospect sort of a racist joke at my friend Laurie’s expense.

--I called out several of my teachers for a job well done: Mrs. B. (1st grade), Miss B., her daughter (3rd grade), Mrs. L. (4th grade), Mrs. J. (8th grade), Mrs. E. (geometry, trig/pre-calc), Mrs. A. (Honors Sr. English).

--I hoped that certain teachers whom I did not call out, realized it and burned with chagrin over how they had wronged me.

--I did not turn over a written draft of the speech in advance for vetting by Mrs. E., and that drove her NUTS NUTS NUTS.

--I think she thought I was fucking with her, and maybe I was a little because WHOA REBEL, but mostly it was because I didn’t finish it till the car ride to the school.

--I believed it was quite original. Who knows whether it actually was or not. Probably not.

--I was asked for copies of it, by several people unrelated to me, after the fact.

--I have no copy myself – thanks be to the most high Shatner.

The very same breakfast pastry that I was currently enjoying!

Internets: Hola, Gleemonex. What’s shakin?

Gleemonex: Oh. Well. If you came here to ask me, I think you already know …

Internets: Who, me?

Gleemonex: Yeah …

Internets: So. Spill!

Gleemonex: It’s a pretty good one: Guy writes in to the Hometowne Bugle-Noisemaker denying carbon dating –

Internets: Ha! Really? Carbon dating?

Gleemonex: Oh yeah, he says it can easily be faked, and that it happens all the time, which should be “all the evidence and science that any sane and reasonable person without preconceived notions or bias ideology would need,” so take THAT you “atheistic community and God deniers”!

Internets: Hmm. Context clues … I assume he’s 100% certain that dinosaurs and mankind coexisted?

Gleemonex: You do know my people. “To all of you evolutionists; more than one fossil of a dinosaur footprint with a human footprint right in the middle exists. That means that men and dinosaurs walked this earth at the same time - not millions of years apart. That should be enough evidence for all you science fans. But wait. There's more.”

Internets: Oh, SWEET! There’s MORE??

Gleemonex: You know it, broham. These guys are never into the whole brevity thing. “And how about global warming, or cooling, or climate change? I forget which lie they are selling today.”

Internets: O … kay … please tell me there’s something being shoved down someone’s throat. There is, right?

Gleemonex: But of course! He bitches a little, randomly, about Al Gore, then says to nobody in particular: “Here's some evidence that I can prove - the climate does change every so often. It's called spring, summer, winter and fall.”

Internets: Got you there, you atheistic God denier. I mean, he mixed up the order of the seasons, but …

Gleemonex: I know. Hee. But about the throat-shoving: See, he PROVED his assertion, and frankly, he doesn’t want you to ”try to shove a lie down my throat that can't be proven.”

Internets: There’s the money. Very paranoid about their throats, this bunch.

Gleemonex: Uh huh. But in all this rambling – and there is more, lots more – I have to say I think my favorite single sentence is his zinger in the last paragraph: “Well, it looks like the science is settled, folks.” Holy dinosaur-track-making Shatner did that make me laugh! Evolution, geological science, carbon-dating, and climate change all settled!

Internets: By him!

Gleemonex: In the Hometowne Bugle-Noisemaker!

Internets: Using only his bible, his tack-sharp mind, and his personal unbiased empirical observation of the “indisputable facts”!

Gleemonex: That’s all it takes.

Internets: True dat. True dat.