yes its true that im olde

i dont hump eight times a day, and when i do its slow and beautiful not manic and violent.

my neighbors dont complain any longer about noise or the mess cuz there isnt any.

the girls dont parade in and out, the randoms dont know where i live, the beer cans are no longer available for recycling outside my front porch.

i like warm oats in the mornings and long spa treatments in the eve.

im no longer reckless or trying to prove any points. i know where im perfect. i know they wont get it. i know what i need to know, and what i know is complete.

i know who are the liars the fakers the phonies and the sellouts.

and i know who are true at heart.

i have heard the most beautiful music there ever was.

ive seen the nakedest chicks

and ive tasted from the fountains of youth.

my cup hath runneth over in so many ways in so many areas that in order to deal with it, i often dumb myself down through tedium and alcohol. and then i watch television.

yes, im olde.

im so old i remember when there wasnt anything on tv.

i remember when there wasnt anything on the radio either.

we watched static on tv and we listened to morse code on the radio.

kids today have no imaginations. i blame hdtv.

in the old days, girls didnt just find your blog and send you nudes to your gmail, no you had to go out and club em and pull em back to your trailer by their hair.

one thing about those days though

there was something happening in music, especially in los angeles, that was amazing.

and strangely it was also happening, in a slightly different way in the twin cities of minneapolis – st.paul.

at the same time that prince was ruling the pop charts, other minnesota bands were laying down the foundations of what would a decade later be called grunge.

soul asylum, husker du, the jayhawks, and the mekons, would all have a home on the local twin/tone record label, but it was the Replacements that mattered the most.

verbungle today leads us to the now-defunct twin/tone webpage which provides us with a glimpse at the best band in america, as rolling stone magazine called them, way back when.

the replacements rocked that night at the famous First Ave., which most of you know from Prince’s film “Purple Rain.”

the mats that night were young, serious, as tight as theyd ever get, and decidedly sober. the year was 1981. ashley wasnt even born yet.

on bass you had tommy stinson who is currently axl rose’s bass player,

chris mars on drums

the dearly departed bob stinson on lead guitar

and the mighty paul westerberg on vox

and gibson sg.

im so old i remember rock music.

with simple lyrics for simple people.

“i hate music, its got too many notes”

im so old im being asked to adjurn to the hot tub.


the replacements live, 1981, quicktime required + metafilter + scarlett johanssen being felt up on E!

despite the pussy

its true ive been a little down lately.

maybe its the stars maybe its the global warming maybe its the fact that my bears forgot that they were the best defense in the nfl and couldnt stop a team who had just lost their running back.

maybe its that true love is the only thing that can make a heart really warm inside. you can only throw newspapers on a fire for so long, eventually its going to want something with more substance.

over the weekend, people seemingly knew i wasnt doing so well and i got gifts from people i didnt expect. i got a tip on a great hotshot lawyer for a nuisance where i might actually get some money, i got to go to a free screening of a major movie thats gonna come out in the spring, i was treated to a delicious meal in the kitchen of a famous restaurant, i received some very sweet phone calls yesterday and today i got two gifts from readers that were very nice.

the portrait that you see up top there is from andy of town and planet, and i love it because ive wanted to learn that technique, but what better than to have someone do it for you without you even having to ask?

the other gift today was an mp3 from a very nice young woman in Northern Cal named amy who sent me a goovin tune.

its the little things that mean a lot.

especially when youre too shy to send me something topless.


on saturday i got back the last batch of books that i ordered and there was a minor printing flaw so i have to send them back and get a new last batch.

so heres the deal my friends, and if you think im kidding around youre high, after 1/31 there will be no more editions of Stiff being printed. forever thing there is a season and this season is just about over.

so if you want the best thing ive ever written now is your chance and forever hold your peace. ive fulfilled almost all of the orders that have come in, and i dont have any extra books laying around. if you havent yet gotten your book please let me know, and if you think that you’re going to order one, let me know so i can know how many i should have printed.

i plan on putting out a new book before the year is over but as soon as you say something like that it jinxes it. so consider this a jinx.

anyways thanks for everyone who has been nice to me over the last week. youve been great. and if theres anything i can do for you please let me know.

etienne + anti + mooseheads unite

people dont think you learn things in college

but some of us picked a few tricks up along the way. especially if you figured out how to stay there for seven years.

anyways one of my writing teachers had a dare for all of us.

because we were precocious and dainty and bigheaded and thought we were the shit she said right before class was almost over

everyone write a five minute poem.

startinnnnnnnnng now!

and all fifteen of us were shocked and we flipped to an open page

and started writing something.

art she must have known can not be rushed, but there she was rushing us.

inspiration cannot be demanded to appear at the snap of the finger, but voila

and id say half of the kids in the room knew how to write.

some were excellent stylists, some mimics, but a few, a handful just knew how to tell a story.

one girl wasnt attractive in the slightest.

if mike royko had a daughter who looked like him in all the worst ways, that would be this girl.

but she wrote so well that i had a massive crush on her

four minutes thirty now

and it wasnt a race against the clock, in my mind at least

it was a competition against the others.

me against the world.

and when the five minutes were up the teacher said ok now these dont mean anything, it was just for fun

but then she read them aloud

and we laughed because some were clever

some were dumb

and there were no grades but i liked that unsaid approval or disproval right when your mind was floating off to which burger place i was going to skateboard past.

another quiz we had once was you have five minutes to write the worst poem you can think of. bad poetry, readddddddy go!

that one i highly recommend.

tonight a young lady invited herself over to my apartment to watch the annual golden globes competition and my house wasnt ready for guests and i had very little in the fridgerator and i really just wanted to stay in my pajamas, but there i was in my pajamas with some corderoys pulled over them and and hoodie over my pajama shirt and i finished watching the first half of the lakers heat game on one tuner while tivoing the globes on the other tuner.

she walked in and i thought, i got both tuners rollin, ive got pajamas on, and im not even gonna clean up my shit to establish with this new chick that what you see is what you get. you want a clean house, go back to your girl friends.

the cuban girl called in the middle of the show and i was all your bff is on the globes and sure enough there was busy philipps from one of my favorite tv shows, love inc at the ang lee brokeback mountain table! quite a step up from getting podcasted by some retard.

but the best part of the show was mariah carey, my girl.


but the best part of the night was after the awards i had to establish something else, which was, there will be a lot of drinking.

some young ladies, however, drank lite beer all through college.

and is now passed out on my couch.

and i had a teacher who said animals dont talk shoes dont talk and flowers dont talk – dont make things that dont talk talk.

thank heavens that couch keeps his mouth shut.

boink + brian + misty + columbia