October 31, 2003

I have just heard the saddest Halloween story. It appears that kids are no longer allowed to trick or treat willy-nilly.
They have a scheduled time of trick or treat and that's it.
From 6 to 7 pm.

That's the most horrible thing I have ever heard.
Who is in charge of enforcing this rule??

Back in my day, kids could trick or treat all night. It started from when it got slightly dark and then just went until people shut all their lights off. We went until we couldn't carry any more and were too tired running around all over the place.
6 to 7 pm is such bullshit. I tell you what, when I have kids they're trick or treating until Saturday. I don't care if they get tired or their legs hurt or if they don't feel good. "Get your asses movin'," I'll say. "Some kids only can trick or treat for an hour. You better be thankful for what you got!"

And another thing I'm still horrified by: kids who trick or treat at the goddamned mall. I mean really, what sort of parental cop-out is that? Not safe in your neighborhood?? Don't take them to the mall, for christ's sake. Take them to a neighborhood in the suburbs. Run around with them. Not the fucking mall.

You're supposed to be outside running around in the leaves being scared by the guy's house who has tombstones and smoke and scary music playing. You're supposed to get scared by the guy who sits on his porch pretending to be a scarecrow then BOO! he's a man jumping at you. Not at the brightly lit, sanitary fucking MALL.
I think that is akin to child abuse. You're robbing them of the fun of Halloween.
What are they going to tell their children? "Oh, kids, yeah, back in my day, grandma took me to the mall to trick or treat.. oh what fun, bright lights, 3 people handing out candy...blending into the regular shopping crowd...it was fun."

Jesus that pisses me off.

OH! and ANOTHER GOD DAMN THING. What the fuck is wrong with elementary schools not allowing the cool parade of costumes any more? That was the best part of going to school on Halloween. Every class would have a parade through the other classrooms wearing their cool costumes and you could see what everyone else dressed up like...then the teacher would have cupcakes and sometimes smokey punch and we'd color and do shit for the rest of the day.
Now I guess some schools either a) don't allow costumes or b) only allow costumes that are educational.
because they don't want to offend anyone.
It completely pisses me off and all I can hear in my head for like 10 minutes is the word MOTHERFUCKER because it's so re-goddamned-diculous.

So I've already decided that if my kid has to go to an elementary school that only allows educational/historical figure costumes -- they're going as Jack the Ripper or Elisabeth Bathory or a Shogun warrior committing seppuku.
That's right, you lousy P.C. ridiculous bastards -- there's always a way around your fucking rules.

Oh man, I get mad about that shit.

But what am I talking about? I'll be lucky if my kids get a Halloween at all at the rate this is going.

(Footnote: I do not have children yet. I'm referring to my proverbial children. Tots from the future )

PS: I have also noticed my last 32 entries (or close enough) have mentioned the strokes in some form.
I have to stop it. But, don't blame me, blame the strokeitis.


posted at 3:23 PM

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October 30, 2003

Ah so. I'm still sick, unfortunately. It's only slightly escalated with my recent discovery of the Strokes' appearance on the cover of spin -- one cover for each boy in the band as well as the release of the new album on Tuesday.
(I must collect them all! NEED MUST NEED MUST)

Other than that, I've been battling a serious case of writers block. Some of the worst I've had to encounter in the past few years. I blame it on my Strokeitis. It's a bad spot I'm in because I'm currently behind at work.

Oh there's so much I have to do and I can't get it done and I'm becoming buried by piles of manila folders. "Don't forget to contact me!" they cry. "You have to write an audio portion to go with my text" others whisper. I'm cranking my radio to drown out their shouts "BE RESPONSIBLE. GET YOUR WORK DONE."
I just can't. I have nothing to say anymore.

One ad starts to blend into another and I forget what I'm supposed to be writing.

Am and Julian together forever sitting in a tree here comes Julian with a baby carriage true love always doesn't count as proper text for an electrican's ad, I don't think.

(for your own piece of mind, I do not write this. I simply stare off into the distance thinking it. There's a big difference)

I haven't managed to go purchase a pumpkin yet and this is causing me some concern. It will be my first Halloween as an adult handing out candy to children and those wayward teenagers who like to cause trouble. I want it to be just perfect. I love Halloween so much. Chances are, I will not get out tonight to get a pumpkin -- or they will be sold out of good pumpkins and I will have to get a yellow gord that has a long stem at the top. Lousy pumpkin that makes.

Here, be frightend by the yellow gord of dooooom. Be afraid of it's long stem that is dangerous and full of anger! It makes baby jesus cry and can cause heartburn if one ventures too close to it's dastardly husk.


I'm starving to death. Completely to death. I'm falling apart as I type this. Teethbones showing through my pulled back lips and stomach all distended with the gasses from my rotting organs. If only I could have eaten lunch, I wouldn't have starved to death today reads my tombstone. I just went straight from starvation to rotting. I bypassed that whole painful get really skinny and suffer stage. I just went from "Oh my god I'm hungry" to "Oh my god I'm dead." that's it. There's no inbetween with me ever. It's either do or die and right now I'm dead.
If only I could just go to lunch at 11.
That's impossible cos then I will want dinner at 5. Too early. Too early.

I am not a 73 year young maiden playing Euchre with the rest of her senior center biddies.
I don't eat lunch when most people are just rising for the day.
I don't eat dinner before the 'nightly news'.
I do, however, think it's okay to go to bed at 8. That's just me, though. I love to sleep.

In other news, I went to the Pistons game last night and saw Kid Rock. He's such a ... I don't know. He is a cool dude.
He's like the guy your dad invites over to the barbeque and he drinks and tells stories about that one time when he was in sturgis....he had a big old belt buckle and always made everyone laugh. He played with the kids and patted the ladies on the ass in that non-menacing way. He could fix your car and make dinner all in the same night. He could dance slow dances but still could tell the filthiest joke you've ever heard.

I love kid rock. I don't really know how I feel about his music but the guy seems pretty cool.

I had a good time at the game, too, if you were wondering.

Pictures are forthcoming.

posted at 11:43 AM

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October 26, 2003

Sadly, there hasn't been much to report in the house of am.

I've developed a sickness in my brain called Strokeitis. It causes me to become a slobbering fangirl over a band almost to the point of hysteria. It's troubling. I try to reason with myself saying things like "you are a grown woman. You do not need to download 200 pictures of them. You do not need to stare ardently through your window, daydreaming of this rockstar. " Yet, I can't bring myself to stop. It's debilitating. It makes my stomach hurt.
It's so pitiful and distressing.

I find myself reading the strokes message boards and becoming more and more appalled as the days go by. Is this what you want to be like? 15 year old girls who scream OMG! WTFO!!LOL!! I TOTALLY WANT TO RAPE JULIAN HAHALOLL!

Ugh. I mean, I'm reading these show recaps that have nothing to do with the show but more of what they had to wear and how close they got to manhandling Julian. (don't get jealous, am. These girls mean nothing to him. Not like you...no, you're his precious.) I'm reading these things that these girls post that have no resemblance to the English language. By admitting I have this affliction , I'm putting myself into the same category. A 15-year-old drooling fangirl groupie.

I have nothing new to report because I've fallen ill. I both love it and hate it.

That's it for now.
Your forlorn writer,
Am Casablancas
posted at 9:19 PM

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October 18, 2003

The strokes concert on thursday has officially placed itself as the best concert I have ever been to. You've heard me. Better than the 30248 Morrissey concerts I've been to. Better than the Anthrax concert where I got to hang out with them. Better than ...oh holy crap...better than Einsturzende Neubauten. (even though it causes me physical pain to say it.)

That concert has infused me with a youth serum that transported me back to the happy age of 15 again -- when music was holy and meant the difference, or so you thought, between life and death.
I swear to god I'm one paper-journal entry away from writing love letters to Julian Casablancas.

There's lyrics in their new song, 12:51, that gets me right in the throat....
Alright I'm coming,
I'll be right there

It's so stupid and silly and if you just read it without hearing the song, it doesn't sound like it's any big deal.
It's just the way he says it. So forlorn and so ...wistful. It's youth all over again.
That reckless abandon, that invincibility, that pure pleasure of just being young and fun.

Man.

posted at 9:42 PM

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October 13, 2003

I've been getting some hits looking for XS Tattoo.
Yes, it is true I am getting my next tattoo there (hopefully in like 2 weeks). Yes, it is also true that I'd like to go in and say "put this on me, bitch" but I'd like to clarify something: Mark Hegge or Matt Hessler are not bitches. They are sexy bitches, sure, but not my bitch nor anyone elses bitch.

They've done the best work I have ever seen and could not recommend them enough. I just don't want Mark or Matt to be pissed I called him a bitch. Whatever you do, do not piss off your tattoo artist. But if they're all into that thing then, ok, be my bitch. Put that tattoo on my arm, bitch and you'll like it. That's right, you heard me...tattoo it! COME ON! HARDER! TATTOOOoooOOoo IT!

Whatever.


New pictures from this weekend

Detroit Zoo
Cider Mill
Marching Band

posted at 9:24 PM

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October 05, 2003

Took pictures while I spent the weekend camping.

It was cold. It was relaxing. It was fun.


My favorite "Uncle Steve-isms" of the weekend:

Fleedle Dee (instead of Frito Lay)
Slis (instead of lisp)
Flingles (instead of Pringles)
Perky Pig (instead of Porky Pig)

posted at 8:13 PM

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October 02, 2003

Over the weekend, I went to one of those Chinese buffet places. Sometimes they're good but it's always hit or miss. Unfortunately this tirp was a miss. The food was phenominal, the waitstaff was attentive but not annoying.
So what was the problem? The freakshow that frequented the place.

Normally I'm all about the circus freakshow carnie type crowd but I draw the line at morbidly obese gluttons waddling around clutching two plates spilling over with crab legs or beef and broccoli with noodles. The rapant gluttony on display completely destroyed any and all appetite I had.

The way these people fished for their food, saliva rolling wet down their protuding lips, tounges like little pink squirming worms was absolutely appaling.

I am not saying this because they were oerweight or in many cases so large that they had to use TWO canes to walk, but because their eating habits were horrific.

Most times at buffets, civilized people take a little of this, a spoonfull of that, maybe two helpings of something else. If they're still hungry, they get up from the table and help themselves to more. Key word -- one plate at a time.

I swear to god, I saw a man who had to weigh no less than 500 pounds eating from his plate while at the buffet only to add more shit to the plate.
One lady, while scooping ice cream herself (god forbid), said to me "This better be good ice cream cos they really make you work for it."
Ok. Lets think about this for a second.
You're scooping out some half melted ice cream from a container that's probably been sitting in this half-assed cooler all day. You're scooping ice cream. Working for it? You're SCOOPING FUCKING ICE CREAM! It's not like you're working construction or are in a coal mine. It's ice cream.
I'm suprized she didn't complain about how long it took to chew the food. "You mean we have to actually work while we eat?! What a rip off!"

This lady was so big that she's probably never walked a flight of stairs in 14 years. She uses one of those motorized carts at the grocery store because she just doesn't want to walk the entire way. She had two plates sitting on the counter WHILE SHE SCOOPED ICE CREAM.

People eating at the buffet, two fisting plates, complaining about scooping your own ice cream...it was just too much for me. It was almost as if you could actually hear them chewing and slobbering and slurping and spitting all overthemselves while they ate and ate and got larger and larger.

We got out of there as soon as we could. Sickening.


At any rate, my favorite day of the year is coming up next weekend. That's right! Clarkston Marching Band's home invitational! I get to spend all day freezing outside in the bleachers watching 18 marching bands compete for a trophy. i say this without one hint of sarcasm too.
I fucking love marching band. I'd be in marching band right now if I didn't turn old. (the cut off age for drum and bugle corps is 26, I think. Jackholes.) Though, I was thinking of turning all 21 jump street and going back to high school so I could bust all those drug dealers that play in the band. Oh to march again, that would be divine.

Also, I am going to my first cider mill in about 25 years. I fucking love the cider mill. Fall leaves. pumpkins. Cider and 24029837520983032498 donuts. Oh heaven, your name is Yates Cider Mill!

I wanted to also take the time to reaffirm how much I love the band Anthrax. I've been a fan since forever, at least 16 years. (woah, crazy). In fact, once, in 8th grade English, we had to do pantomines to songs. Give a little 'public speaking performance'. Well, my best friend at the time, Chantal, and I decided that we were going to mess things up a bit and rapped the words to I'm The Man. Yeah, we kicked it.
That class was awesome. We got in trouble so many times it was rediculous and once, this girl, while sharpening her pencil, got a bloody nose and passed out. She wound up falling onto the corner of the desk hitting her head and then somehow managed to stab herself with the pencil. It was crazy. Blood was everywhere. People were freaking out. Best class experience ever -- for when you're a morbid, metal band t-shirt wearing 14 year old. Come to think of it, I might even like it now. Sicko.
One time, also, we did a song and dance routine featuring the best songs from Bugs Bunny. I did the song from Daffy Duck's version of robin hood "Oh come join with me, so joyous and free...something something something...for I'm robin hood and i'm very good at avoiding the sherriff's eye. We'll trip along merrily...together so gracefully, to trip and trip and trip and trip to trip it up and down..." then he falls down the hill singing "trip trip trip trip" and what I did was fall around the classroom singing it. It is so idiotic, it makes me hurt just thinking of it.
Hurt in that "jesus, I was embarasing." way.
Man. some things never change. I'm an embarassment to myself

posted at 4:09 PM

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