subterranean homesick blues

you know

the gramercy theatre has provided the bastard with hours of entertainment.

even though I have never set foot in it.

but,

it has never predicted the weather for the week.

—the bastard

...on tributes

so, the bastard has this friend that he knew long ago but knows again because of the virus.

he puts out an apb.

asks if anyone is interested in going to the Brooklyn bowl with him yo see the all girl judas priest cover band.

judas priestess.

I pipe up how this would be tempting but. I passed.

flash forward: Sunday night, the bastard walks 23rd street after taking the train and walking east.

I live by this venue.

and the band playing is Lez Zeppelin.

which in my mind could only be a lesbian led zeppelin tribute band.

I mention this to my ladyfriend and she asks if i am going to see them.

I told her I'd pass.

figuring I'd feel out of place.

however that said, the female tribute bands of classic rock standards is a thing the bastard can get behind.

however, I find it hard to picture anyone other than plant screaming, "shake for me girl, i wanna be your back door man".

—the bastard

...on seeing it coming

you ever have that feeling that you see trouble coming?

you can see it but, you can't seem to do anything about it?

well you COULD do something about it but, you don't.

and now your stuck waiting longer than you'd like to.

yeah. me too.

damn.

—the bastard

...on open roads

so the bastard is hitting the open road and the mofo has signed on as co-pilot.

19 hours

39 minutes

open road to kansas city.

for ribs and hostage exchanges.

we're picking up the boy in a most economical move which may add up to as little as 120 dollars in gasoline. and 120 dollars in hotel fees.

and murders.

lots of murders.

well maybe not. but there will be ribs.

lots of ribs.

—the bastard


P.S. don't worry, i'll still be blogging because that's what i do jerks!!!

...on private shows

so the chairman and i went to go see hellboy 2 tonight and the bastard thinks that we're coming to the end of the film's run. up unitil 5 minutes before the trailers started, we were the only people in the theatre. still and all, it was pretty good. not as good as the first one but, still fun enough to fill the time.

then again after seeing the dark knight earlier this week, all other superhero movies look like dogshit. guess the bastard will have to see the watchmen next year to see the paradigm shift once more.

—the bastard

off topic: we didn't get a picture of him because the bastard thinks he was a vampire but, some crazy old vampire was chillin' on the hood of his car, surfing the internet on his laptop. fantastic.

...on the cinema

listen to the chair leg of truth. it does not lie. what does it say? the bastard went to the cinema last night to test screen a bob dylan biopic and the chair leg of truth tells me that

no one likes richard gere

long story short, six different actors play different aspects of bob dylan's various career personas and richard gere played the billy the kid persona. it was well filmed but, it played really clunky and none of the test screeners surveyed really liked richard gere. so there you go.

—the bastard

the bastard has to tell you something...

...the new york times is full of crap

...or perhaps the new york times is out of touch with the movie going public

i won't go too much further into my theories about the new york times. i didn't set out to get into politics tonight. i want to talk about film briefly. on friday night, we all left work early to go see an early screening of frank miller's 300 and i have to tell you that every minute that you are not watching the gorgeously adapted 2 hours of stylized violence, you have wasted some time in your life. the times panned it but, it killed at the box office this weekend. now the bastard isn't here to bitch about the all too high browedness of the new york pop culture media (i read new york magazine instead of the new yorker when it comes to local crap, i find it less elitist), i'm here to talk about how the guy who reviewed the film for the times isn't an everyman. that's all. now go see the fucking film. go on. SEE IIIIIIIIIIIIIT!

—the bastard

spring is in the air...jerk

you know how the bastard knows that spring is coming? he begins to enjoy the benefits of the humidity. there's nothing i like better than standing on a train platform knowing it's below 50 degrees outside and still i'm sweaty. god! that is fucking good times. if a bastard is on a train leaving from chicago doing 35 mph moving west and another bastard is leaving from wichita moving east at 20 miles an hour, when will i be free of irritating commuters? and for that matter, why the hell am i doing math problems when i'm just trying to sleep on said train?

anyway, the bastard is on the train sleeping the sleep that only a man as dead inside as i am can on a train, when someones phone rings and i am rousted back into the cursed waking world to find that the woman sitting across from me is taking a phone call from a male friend who is on the other side of the car from her. i realy don't know how i feel about this. on the one hand it's cute. two people. jibber jabbing. on the phone. in the same train car. that's cute. but then again, i'm dead inside and trying to sleep. so i think i'll have to go with, "OH MY GOD! WILL YOU CUT THAT SHIT OUT! SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO SLEEP OFF THEIR MISERABLE COMMUTE!" bu then again, i don't think i would have wanted to get up and move across the train if i was her. these LIRR train aren't exactly wide enough for people to just stand in the aisles of without having your ass in someone's face. long story short, the conversation ended and i went back to dreamland. or was it dream-less-land and she woke me up again knocking into me with her knockoff vuitton bag trying to get out of the car. i guess their conversation didn't really go so well. poor guy. or maybe good for him.

you know how else the bastard knows that spring is in the air? penn station smells like urine again. good times.

—the bastard