Going to visit Andy today and check out the LP art exhibit, as well as everything else. Should be good fun.

Don't ever move.

Do you realize all the hoops you have to jump through anymore just to transfer an out of state driver's license? Originally I was told that all you needed was your current DL and your social security card. So then I get to the place and they tell me not only do I need that, but I need other things linke my brith certificate, bank statements, proof of residency, blah blah blah. So I had to go back and offer up the goods. Then you have to go and register your car, transfer the plates over, and all that fun stuff, so you need proof of insurance, your car's title, and your car present so the person can go outside and make sure the VIN number matches the one on your title. Jeezus. During that trip, I learned that the assholes wound up misspelling my name on my license, so I'll have to go back and have that fixed.

But it's not over yet. After that, if you've moved to a state that requires it, you have to have state inspections done on your car to check safety and emissions. I took my car by earlier this week and dropped it off. The guy then called me and told me they only did it by appointment, so I went back and got it and took it back last night. Then the guy calls me this morning and says they need my registration, because they can't do the fucking tests without it. So I run back down and hand them that, and just a short while ago they called back and said all I needed to pass was a third brake light that was apparently out and new wiper blades. I don't get the wiper blades because I just put new ones in before I moved.

And all this bullshit costs you a few hundred bucks, easily. So I suggest you just stay on your home turf if you can.

"There's gonna be a certain party at the station
Satin and lace, I used to call funny face."

Ugh. What could be worse than driving to the post office and having "Chattanooga Choo-Choo" pop into your head all of a sudden? Well, maybe having to sit through a Foster Brooks routine or getting Roger Whitaker stuck in your skull.

Tony: "This thing feels even better than it looks. I dont know what they make this stuff out of but man does it feel real. I used it 5 times the first day i got it and really tore into it but it still keeps it shape. Definitly a great investment for those nights that I can't be bothered to go out and get the real thing."

Hey, that's a good enough recommendation for me when deciding whether or not to purchase Aimee Sweet's Cyberskin Pet Pussy from Ashley Sex Toys. The damn thing is a mere 60 bucks! You gotta love anything modeled after an actual model's sex organs. I dunno...having a disembodied fake vagina modeled after a Penthouse Pet seems a bit funky to me, but damn if Tony's review doesn't just make me want to plunk down the cash right now.

Crab at the booty, tain't gonna do no good.

That's all I have to say.

On the other hand, I need to start preparing stuff for Echo From Esoterica's September comeback. Interviews are always the first thing to be done, and I have one band in the pocket already. Now it's just a matter of finding two more, or finding two other interesting people to feature. Hopefully some good ideas will come to me. As of now, I'm still pondering it all.

There's nothing I hate more than trying to write a review for an album that does nothing for me one way or the other. You listen and relisten, hoping that something will inspire you, but no. And then you have to crank out 600 words or so on this thing. What do you say? Oh this band is good at what they do, but they don't do much for me. That's negative in a way that it shouldn't be, because said band could be very good at what they do, but if I say that, then it looks like I wouldn't recommend it to anyone. And while I wouldn't recommend this particular disc in question to anyone, it isn't bad. It's just not my kinda music. Fuckin' hell.

I told myself I wouldn't do it, but I did it anyway.

Yes, I'm afraid I was lured in once more by my never ending need of VU merchandise. I went to amazon.com last night and snagged the latest reissue of The Velvet Underground and Nico, the one with both stereo and mono versions of the album, some Nico Chelsea Girl tracks, and the peelable banana. One of these days I'll learn. Having the damn thing in the box set with the Nico tracks should be enough one would think.

But wait, there's more. They were having one of those "buy this album along with this other album and save" sales, so I also wound up getting the reissued for the zillionth time as well Ziggy Stardust disc with extra goodies. See? I'm the target buyer these record labels reissue all this shit for. Am I grateful? Of course.

Here's one for you.

All I can say is fuck the Grateful Dead. Good Christ, people, will you pay to see anything? Who wants to see this group of dinosaurs hump themselves without Jerry? Wait, who wanted to see that with Jerry? I guess the guys just can't function without jamming incessantly and singing as poorly as they ever did. Fuck that. The time has come to just say no to these jokers. But hey, a little LSD can make everything sound good, I guess. Good thing most of the fans have never listened to the shit sober. Is that a stereotypical insult to Deadheads? You betcha. They don't deserve any better.

Some folks are just strange.

Some of you may have read my review for The Stiff Generation at Echo From Esoterica. I pointed out that I didn't like the cover of "Alison" by Janas Hoyt. Since then, friend of Hoyt and music biz dude Eric Peterson has been emailing me trying to convince me why Hoyt is great. She may be fine, but I still don't like "Alison". I think it stinks. So what? Not good enough for Eric, apparently, even though I told him to just agree to disagree on this one. I get this snotty little shit-smirked email in my box today:

"i've been in the music biz for 20 years and have seen her blow many crowds away so maybe i have more information to form an opinion than you do me thinks - and anyone who questions the genius of big star and loves the spice girls is not someone whose opinion i would seek out - but maybe writers like bill wyman and others who love the mary janes are the ones whose opinion really counts - take care jason - you might want to check out the chris bell solo album...just got back from the stiff record release show at maxwell's in hoboken - great to see jim and andy and the head boys - oh by the way, amy rigby LOVES that version of Alison and she asked me to send her some more mary janes stuff...rock on and crank up the spice girls for me,

Eric"

I think that kind of attitude just says it all, really. Ya gotta love the "I'm older than you so you're wrong" approach of this email. Eric, I will crank up the Spice Girls just for you. Glad to know my opinions of Big Star made you take a few cheap shots at my expense. As they say in this biz...and this one's from way back, even more than 20 years...kiss my ass.

I'm back! It was a hot vacation....too hot, but fun. Sat around and didn't do much. There was beer. There was that.

Why do people keep writing me and telling me how great the band Owls is? I fucking hated their album. Disgruntled fans keep writing me at PopMatters regarding my review of their last wretched piece trying to convince me how good they are. No...I can't stand 'em. Leave it at that. Got a funny letter from an Owls fan telling me how wrong I was...this really long-winded missive. I'm always amazed at how much time people spend writing these things to only come face to face with not getting a reply. Fun. This one guy assumed I listened to J Lo and all that other shit. People, if you're going to criticize me at least take as much time learning who I am and what music I enjoy as much as you do writing these stupid letters to me that get deleted as fast as you send 'em. I don't care if you like a shitty band I hated. Chewing me out over my opinion won't help you any. Now please, get a life and stop worrying so much.