Happy Halloween, everybody.

Coming home from my mom's I saw a couple kids (with parents) walking around Uptown in costume. I think I like this holiday so much because it's mainly for kids. When I was younger, I loved Halloween.

I think my favorite costume was a dollar bill. I got two huge poster boards and made a gigantic dollar bill. My mom helped draw the details. It was pretty cool. Usually I wasn't very good at coming up with ideas, so I was proud of that one.

We had a ritual every Halloween. First, we'd hit River Road.

I lived about four blocks off of River Road, growing up. It's a beautiful boulevard that run along the banks of the Mississippi river, and there are some relatively spendy houses along it. Since there were only houses on one side of the street, no one ever went to River Road to trick or treat. That rhymed. Sorry.

And therein lies the genius: often, homeowners didn't even have candy to pass out. When we showed up, they'd feel guilty and would go rummage around to find something—anything. So we'd often get full size Fanny Farmer candy bars (there was a nearby Fanny Farmer store), or other full size candy bars. Sometimes we even got money.

Guilt is a beautiful thing.

RANDOM SIDE NOTE: There is a rather unusual house on River Road. Unusual in that the shape is unusual, and unusual in that every few years it went up for sale. One time there was an open house and mom went in. Turns out the original owners were Jewish, and had the house built in the shape of the star of David. It was a cool idea, but not a functional design. Hence the turnover.

Back to Halloween:

Anyway, once we got done with River Road, we'd wander through the rest of the neighborhood, blah blah blah. Once we had finished (people started turning their porchlights off around 8 or 9) we'd gather at one of our houses to sort our loot.

It was quite the process. We'd sort by brand name and by popularity. After that had been completed, we'd start negotiations. Because invariably there were candies that I had no interest in, but that another friend loved and vice versa. It took hours.

The last Halloween I went out, I was a sophomore in high school. But I wasn't trick or treating. I went out with a friend to escort her little brother around the neighborhood.

We only went around the block, as it was snowing so hard and was so cold that we couldn't stay out any longer. The next morning we had several feet of snow and I had a day off of school. It became known as "The Halloween Blizzard".

These days, I don't get out for Halloween anymore. But I still love it. So I'm sitting here typing this wearing a pumpkin ring and cat ears. Don't laugh.

I said don't laugh.

Nightmare Roommate (NR) was a Halloween fanatic. She had a gabillion Halloween decorations she would pull out for the two years I lived with her. And they were incredibly tacky. It drove me nuts. In particular, she had this plastic door knocker that would scream if you knocked on it. I actually contemplated stealing it and throwing it in the trash, but couldn't bring myself to do it.

I was unwilling to do anything Halloween-related in terms of decoration for a few years because I had such bad memories of NR's decorations. This year I'm taking baby steps. I have a Halloween-themed candle and dish towel. Baby steps.

I will give you a final Halloween story:

Growing up, I had a book I loved called Woggle of Witches. That's what a group of witches is called: a woggle.

Kinda like a flock of crows is called a murder.

It's a story about witches celebrating on Halloween, when they go on a joy ride, even hanging out on the moon. In the end, they get scared by a group of trick-or-treaters and fly back to the safety of their tree-top hammocks.

Typing this, it sounds dorky, but the illustrations and the story are just very cool and sweet. I just looked at the copyright page, and it came out in 1971. I wonder if my mom bought it then or when I was a little girl.

So—for now—that's all I've got for Halloween. I will mention that I kinda like my temporary Halloween home page.

PSA: Turn your clocks back, kids. It's Daylight Savings time.

I have a story. It's lame, but it's a story.

So due to various dicey things going down at work, we've had our accountants in full time. And last week I needed to talk to one of them, so I popped my head in the door. She was on the phone. She turned around abruptly and jumped. Apparently I scared the crap out of her. She swore she'd get even.

Let me just describe her quick: She's teeny, wears very pale foundation, and bright pink lipstick.

I was working away diligently, and all of the sudden, right by my ear, I hear "BOO!". I turned, saw the accountant, and screamed. I hadn't heard her approach, didn't realize she was next to me, and freaked. She looked like a ghost.

It was a little embarrassing.

So a few hours later, I'm working away and suddenly hear "BOO!" in my ear again. Again, I screamed.

Again, it was the accountant.

I ran errands this morning. Completely mundane. Picked up some Halloween stuff on sale, including a skeletal hand that holds a candle.

I went to get lunch at Leeann Chin (faux Chinese fast food joint) and they were out of cream cheese wontons, so I had to wait a few minutes. No big deal.

As I was waiting I eventually started paying attention to the music they were playing. It was Wilco's Secret of the Sea. Couldn't believe it.

I still can't decide about the new design. Hm.

I've been rereading all my old rants. I can't believe how many there are and how long I've been writing these stupid things.

In other news, The OC is out on DVD and I should really buy it. I just know that if I do, I'm going to feel a compunction to update all the quotes. Which will take forever.

In other other news, my cable went out or something and I lost all my recorded shows. Which means The Jury Oz episode is gone. Along with all the Queer Eyes I still needed to update. Dang it.

Today at work was crazy. So I'm going to break my rule and write about a work incident.

First, the backstory: I work for a fitness publisher. Boss #2 is one of the authors of said fitness books. We have a website with a forum that I moderate. Well, not really. If I moderated it, half the members would be banned for basic forum etiquette no-nos.

Either way, Boss #2 is... interesting. For the safety of my job I'll leave it at that. Awhile back, he found a forum with people discussing his book and became obsessed with forums. He started post these long posts. Eventually people started coming to our forum.

Boss #2 surfs and posts constantly. And he has these blind followers that hang on his every word and will constantly just kiss his ass. Muscle-jocks are just sheep.

Okay, now I have to mention the second half of the backstory for those still with me (this a lot of backstory for a stupid work rant):

Our phone system has an overall page feature and when you page, it beeps twice and then you can speak. Boss #2 never took the time to actually learn any individual extensions, so he just overall pages. It's a thing of legend. You're constantly hearing, "BEEP BEEP. Claire, call John's office."

Or "BEEP BEEP Dave, I've got so and so on the line and he wants to talk about that contract we're thinking of signing and I need you to come up here and get in on the phonecall. He's got a meeting in ten minutes so come up right now."

How do these two relate? Other than in my twisted brain?

Today, around 1:00, I heard, "BEEP BEEP. Claire, call John's office." So I did. The website was apparently down, along with the forums.

That meant something was wrong with the server.

I would like to add that the NT Windows Server is a nightmare to deal with. I HATE WINDOWS. I know a bit about the OS, but when you get into SQL Server, I got nothing.

And I knew that if I didn't get it up and running immediately, I was gonna get screamed at. So I meandered to the server room, turned on the screen, noticed a few pop up windows related to our firewall software, took care of those, found the server to be working, told Boss #2, and went back to my desk.

10 minutes later: "BEEP BEEP. Claire, call John's office." The site was down again. This time I actually had to restart the machine. I checked and the site was back up, so I returned to my desk.

10 minutes later: "BEEP BEEP. Claire, the server's down again." I returned to the server room. By this time, I was getting a little panicky, because I knew if I couldn't fix this, he would flip out, and I had no one on site to fix it. Visions of Geek Squad were dancing in my head.

I restarted the server again. This time, no dice. So I completely shut it down and gave it a 2-minute time out to think about what it had done.

I started it back up and it seemed to work. So I went back to my desk. Along the way all I heard was people calling out, "BEEP BEEP!" "BEEP! BEEP!" "BEEP! BEEP! Claire!"

30 minutes later, you guessed it: "BEEP BEEP. Claire, restart the server." Back to the server room.

By this time, people were overall paging and then hanging up right after the beeps just to be funny. Uh huh. Hilarious.

To make a long story longer, I was running back and forth between my desk and the server room amidst real and fake "BEEP! BEEP!"s for hours. Finally around 4:30 I restarted the server again, and called up to tell him it was fixed. I also mentioned that there had been some large attacks to internet servers today and that I was having trouble with other sites as well. He accepted that.

I lie well.

Finally it was 6:15 and I was out the door. I stopped for a moment at the front desk to look at FedEx shipments going out.

All of the sudden: "BEEP BEEP. Claire, if you're still here can you call John's office." I could hear Heathrow's laughter from the back of the building.

Sigh.

Sure enough, John wanted me to restart the server, as he was having problems.

I checked the site and it wasn't even down. So I told John we were still up. And then ran like hell.

As I write this, it's 8:30 and I'm half expecting a phone call any minute asking me to fix it

Wilco is in town tonight. I am not there. D'oh. Once they started playing auditoriums I stopped going altogether.

Cake was in town over the weekend. Didn't go to that either. I just can't bring myself to go to shows alone. I know it's wussified, but I feel stupid. The only show I went to alone was (ironically) Wilco's last show at First Ave. in support of YHF. And it was mainly because I was within walking distance. I debated and debated, assisted by a couple of cocktails, and finally sucked it up and went.

I walked in and was trying to see if I recognized the song that the opening band was playing and then realized to my horror it was Wilco. D'oh! It was a great show either way. I remember they played Airline to Heaven and I thought it was an amazing song.

I remember thinking back to that show and song a short time later on 9/11, and thinking, sadly, that they would most likely remove that from set lists.

I wrote a random rant yesterday, and decided it was too boring to post. I wrote a random rant today, and decided it was too boring to post. So I deleted a bunch of crap and condensed them to bring you the most ranty goodness I possibly could. It's most likely still rather boring:

It is a lovely day today. This day is why I like October so much. I went to see Grandma today. She has advanced Alzheimer's. You haven't lived until you've been asked 12 times within 2 hours if you've taken a vacation this year. She never disappoints.

I was looking at a collage of photos she has. There's a photo of my aunt as a young girl sitting on some steps with a squirrel next to her standing up with his front paws on her arm. It's a cute photo, but as mom says, probably wasn't the safest photo. Rabies, anyone?

Anyway, I noticed a photo that I hadn't seen before. It's of five men standing in front of a WWII bomber with a foxy chick painted on the side. "Madame Shoo Shoo." One of the men is my grandfather. The reason they're posing in front of Madame Shoo Shoo is because my grandfather painted her.

During the war, one of his duties was to paint the side of planes. I guess there was even an article published about it, but that's lost to time.

His other duty was to identify—by sound only—what type of plane was flying overhead. He was in some military intelligence unit. I always thought that was sorta cool.

I have his dog tags. Along with a two dollar bill signed by all the men in his unit. I even have one of those maps that they would put up in warrooms to show bombers their intended targets.

Unfortunately what I do not have is an entire photo album of flak photos taken from a plane in the air over Germany. Grandma threw it out in an Alzheimer's moment.

I also have two bullet casings from the 21 gun salute at his gravesite. He died two days before the Berlin wall fell. I'll never forget that.

In other news:

I live in Minnesota. There is a political race between Mark Kennedy and Patty Wetterling. And it's gotten NASTY. Not on Patty's side, but on Mark's. He has some "I'm Mark Kennedy and I approved this message" ads of the most nastiest, underhanded ads I have ever heard in my life.

If he really approved that message, the guy's a slug. Low-class.

And an idiot. Because if you insult/slam Patty in this state it's not a good idea. Her son Jacob (bless him) was kidnapped and most probably murdered about ten years ago. She has been relentless in trying to find out who took her son and also relentless in crusading for missing children. She is a hero.

Last night, I saw an ad for Patty that had John from America's Most Wanted. He basically stated that he was a Republican, but from what he knew of Patty Wetterling, he would vote for her. I like him a lot more.

There's a Food Network show with John Cleese on wine for dummies. As always, he's quite hilarious. And Brendan Fraser is on it as a guest of his. For some reason I really like him. I have no idea why. But he strikes me as quite naturally funny, and he takes risks in terms of the movies he stars in.

Back to the Cleese show: man, is that guy funny. Just spot on clever, witty, and funny. I would kill to be that funny.

I would just like to add that I miss Graham Chapman.

Music and/or Storybook Thursday and/or Friday.

Today at work I had to have my boss sign off on something. In his office, I noticed a DVD of the H. H. Holmes documentary on his desk. Surprised, I pointed it out and told him that I had read a few articles on the man. He had apparently never heard of him. A friend had given it to him.

I explained to John who he was and he was shocked. So was the new intern. So I thought, hey, no one seems to have heard of this guy, so I'm telling an abbreviated (and possibly error-laden) version in my rant tonight:

We're wrapping up the cookbook and had to do a shot of a bonfire on the seashore in the middle of summer.

Just for the record? It's October and we're in Minnesota. And it's windy. So we have no seashore and we have 45 degree weather.

It was quite the adventure. I'll have to post a shot when I get them.

Things are heating up so close to the election. I hate negative attack ads. I know it's rather idealistic, but just once I'd like to see a clean campaign.

I'm avoiding work.

My busy season is approaching. Queer Eye and QE UK, The OC, Stargate, and Simpsons. Five out of seven days has a TV show I need to quote. That means I have Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Sunday nights. Plus Monday finds me trying to convert people into Las Vegas and LAX.

In other news: We did another shoot for the cookbook today. Which required us to make Easter eggs. I haven't made Easter eggs in years.

Since Easter is nowhere near we had no way of picking up an Easter egg kit with those little tabby things for the color. So Heathrow and I went online to find a recipe. We didn't really find one other than "Use food coloring", but we did pick up a tip that netted us some of the coolest eggs I've ever seen.

TIP: Get some rubber glue and drizzle it around the egg in a random pattern. Wait for it to dry, and then drop it in your chosen color. Roll it around for a bit. Take out of the color and let dry.

Now here's the dilemma: you can either a) peel off the rubber glue and dip in a different color or the same color, or 2) peel off the rubber glue and leave as is, or 3) don't peel it off at all.

I gotta say that this technique makes some very nice eggs. I told Heathrow that, aside from Ukrainian eggs, they were the coolest I'd seen. And she had no idea what Ukrainian eggs were. Are they obscure?

Do you remember those generic Easter egg kits? The little color tabs, the cut-outs for the completed eggs. That metal contraption that allowed you to dip the eggs into the dye. Good times.

As I've mentioned, there are a lot of great music shows coming up. But one pretty much takes the cake:

Soul Asylum
Golden Smog
Paul Westerberg
...and some other people

It's a one night only fundraiser for Karl Mueller, a member of Soul Asylum. He had throat cancer. Which is gone, but the bills aren't. In a move that surprised absolutely zero people, tickets sold out in 40 minutes.

Also surprising no one, I don't have tickets.

Man, I wish I had tickets.

The only unfortunate part is that it's at the Quest. I hate the Quest. I had something slipped into my drink there once. I find it unfortunate that such classic Minneapolis musicians are performing at a cheesy club.

Of course, the club is being very generous, most likely, and donating time and money, etc. and I should keep my big mouth shut.

Either way, that concert bill is the making of Minneapolis legend. I hope someone tapes it.

RANDOM MUSIC STORY by CLAIRE:

Two acquaintances of mine went to school with all the above boys at West High in Uptown. One was the drummer for a band, Dumpster Juice. And they both lived on Cedar Lake, one of the many lakes in south Minneapolis.

So one weekend, the band had a show in his mother's garage.

Before the main event (Dumpster Juice) went on, they had another high school band open up for them, a band called Loud Fast Rules.

As they like to tell it, they got a TON of complaint calls from neighbors. From across the lake.

I believe Dumpster Juice is still around, playing small gigs here and there. They're probably only known as a local band, however.

Loud Fast Rules is still around as well. Sure, they go by Soul Asylum now, but they're still around.

In other news, I'm still really enjoying rewatching Keen Eddie on DVD. I just wish there were more extras. It's all about the extras.

Hm. I can't decide whether to make this a random rant week or not. I got the idea in my head to have every day have a special theme for my rants post, like Music Friday and Storybook Thursday. But I don't think I'm creative enough to think of 7 different ideas. Well, not creative enough to think of 7 different interesting themes.

I like to think of this rant as ebbing and flowing in the ether. It is its own entity. I just listen to what the rant tells me to do and I do it.

Sometimes the rant tells me to burn things. I'm getting worried.

So I can't believe how good Keen Eddie is. I loved it the first time, but—watching the DVDs—genius. I got my mom completely hooked on the show. She keeps complaining that there aren't anymore new episodes.

I've mentioned it before, but my mom keeps trying to get me to watch some new TV show that Mark Valley is in. For a woman who constantly gives me crap about how much TV I watch to try to get me to watch another show? Means she really likes Mark Valley. And who can blame her? That boy is hot. Smoking hot.

I went shopping today. Sigh. People should stop me from going shopping. Here's the damage:

1. Groceries (too boring to list)
2. CDs: Ike Reilly, Cake, Westerberg's Folker
3. Patina: ring, lip junk
4. DVDs: Keen Eddie (!!!!), Homicide Season 5 (!!!!)
5. Unnamed political candidate's merchandise

I keep going back and forth, but I've made my decision: I will not discuss my feelings about the upcoming election. I feel strongly about it, but it's not my place to say boo about it.

I will not shut up about one thing: On November 2, vote. America was founded on the principle that its citizens choose who leads it. It is your duty—your responsibility—to vote.

Okay, I've said this before, and I'll it again: someone at VH1 is either in Cake or is their biggest fan. I hear Cake CONSTANTLY on VH1. And I have no problem with that. I love Cake.

It's time for another Music and/or Storybook Thursday and/or Friday. Ready? Begin!

As regular readers may or may not know, if I don't have any idea what to rant about, I usually come up with at least something driving home from work. Today? No exception.

Every Thursday on the local Clear Channel station (boo!) they have "Club Crawl", a list of upcoming shows.

Anyway, in listening I was reminded of the insane number of shows coming up. So, I'm posting MP3s of those artists tonight. Music Friday! And it's a long one. Sorry.

In no particular order:

"It's getting dark a little too early..."

I've had that Eels lyric stuck in my head for the past couple of days.

Fall is definitely upon us, my friends. Mill City is headed into winter. I had to break out the fleece this morning.

Dang it, I had a rant and I forgot it again. Why do I even bother?

Oh, wait. I got it again. But I will pause to mention that I'm really liking Paul Westerberg's Folker. The latest single, "I'm in Love With a Girl" is great.

Also, Nova is on and it's about Typhoid Mary. And Tony Bourdain is on it. He's a shmoo. I miss his show on Food Network. It was part of my Happiness Fridays. He seems to be rather knowledgeable on the subject of Mary. If he's into history, he's my new best friend.

Okay, on to my rant:

So I have experienced different levels of horror in my life. Family reunions. Dentist visits. Apartment hunting. College finals.

Horror.

But today I have the ultimate in hell. Hands down. Wait for it:

The Barenaked Ladies' Christmas Show

AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

The worst band in all of North America singing Christmas carols on stage. Please dear God do not subject the world to this. On my way home I heard another commercial for it, but this time they actually played some of the songs. HORRIBLE. Worst. Band. Ever.

For those that don't know (i.e. everyone) I can not stand that band. It doesn't help their cause that they're Canadian, but they are banned from my home because their lyrics are the most insipid ever.

The part that drives me nuts is that they seem to think they're so entirely clever. They're not. And I am the arbiter of all things clever. So what I say goes.

Seriously though, it annoys me to no end that a band with lyrics like "Watching X-Files without the lights on, in the maison, I hope the smoking man's in this one" can be incredibly successful, but the Old 97s languish in relative obscurity.

Okay, I've had my say on Barenaked Ladies. Now I gotta go do actual work.

Ever feel a little bit let down after your birthday? Like you're not the center of attention anymore?

I feel like that today.

So to make up for it, I bought some stuff. I'm not a mail order/catalog buyer person normally, but I haven't really bought anything for my new apartment. So I get stuff. Stuff rules.

I don't really have anything to say today. The Hip Hop Honors show is on VH1 tonight. Kinda excited about that.

I've been noticing that my rants are getting increasingly inane. I had had the attitude that, since I had a fair bit of content on the rest of the site, I could babble on here. But perhaps I need to get back on some sort of relevant postings.

But not, I think, today.

I realize I've written about Surreal Life before, but they're rerunning the first season tonight. And I have always been so struck by the relationship between Gabby and Vince Neil. They just seem to really care for each other. And they were my two favorites on the show. I just think it's sweet.

I have no idea if they continued the friendship after the show, but I hope so.

And yes, I know editors can play up or down personalities. But it seems genuine.

Hip Hop Honors comments:

KRS-ONE and Chuck D are just wonderful. It's a joy seeing them again.

Along with Run DMC. And MC Lyte. I used to have a tape of hers back in the day. I love her voice. And wow is she beautiful.

VH1 had a history of rap documentary this week, and in the segment about NWA, they had a talking bit, and then the NWA crew bum-rushed the camera.

It's not credited, but the woman speaking is a singer named Michel'le. With a very distinctive voice. And her song Nicety is classic. She's on DOC's album.

I'm still 27.

We went to Glueks for the traditional Jeep ride, mediterranean plate, and brat. It was a beautiful day and as always the food was excellent.

I'm 27.

I'm 27?

Hm.

I had a lot I wanted to post this weekend. But I came to the conclusion that it was far too boring. So you get this instead. It is far too boring as well, but there you go.

It is approximately 5 hours from the day of my birth. I have mixed feelings about that. I won't go into it.

I will, however, tell a random story:

In the middle of the night, some 27 years ago, my mother's water broke. She rolled over and shook my father awake. He groggily woke up and asked what was going on. My mom told him the situation.

He said, "I'll call a cab." and rolled over and went back to sleep.

To his credit, one second later he realized what she had said, bolted upright and ran to get dressed.

I was born approximately 12 hours later.

So I like to keep my birthdays low-key. I'm a rather private person in general, and just tend to downplay it. So no big celebration or anything tomorrow.

But tonight, I had dinner with mom and her friends at El Meson, a Latin American restaurant a few blocks from my apartment.

If you live in the Twin Cities, go to El Meson. 35th and Lyndale Ave South. So tasty.

So tomorrow I get Amanda. Amanda emailed me to invite herself over for my birthday. Man, she's a cool cat. And a shmoo. She really is. Have I mentioned that she has an audio recording at the Light Rail stations?

So, in other news: I have my laptop on the couch and my phone on the TV table. When I want to connect to the internet I have to move the phone cord from phone to laptop. And every single time, Ramona freaks. If she's on the couch she frantically runs away. And I can't figure out why.

That's all I got. Carry on.

It's my birthday. Go Claire, it's my birthday.

It's Music and/or Storybook Thursday and/or Friday!

Or, as Special Ed from Crank Yankers would say, "Friday! YAYYYYYY!"

I had planned on continuing my week of complete and utter randomness and would have told some stupid Storybook Friday story about my tortured existence, but I have changed my mind.

What?!? you ask. Inconceivable!

Nope. Thanks to Christine, you get Music Friday. YAYYYYYY!

I have to thank her for visiting and posting in some way.

Today we have Jeff, Jay, Brian, and Tim. YAYYYY!

Here we go. Ahem:

First up: Uncle Tupelo.

Anodyne outtake : Wherever
This is the unremastered version floating around. They cleaned it up for the reissue. Jeff really evolved as a songwriter during the course of UT. I mean, Anodyne Jeff songs were—to me—on a much more equal footing with Jay's. And this is evidence.

Cover Story : The Ocean
Short little blip, but evidence that the boys would try to do random covers (there's the random!). Rather 'Mats like. Including the fact that both bands usually were loaded when they tried them.

Brian Henneman : Wave That Flag
Brian Henneman : Indianapolis

Brian (of Bottle Rockets fame) was a guitar tech for UT back in the day and he recorded some songs with the boys. Wave That Flag is an interesting take on te Confederate flag's popularity.

Indianapolis is a rather funny song about being stuck in a town because of a bus breakdown.

Son Volt : Steal the Crumbs
This live track is an Uncle Tupelo song off of March. It is my favorite song from that album along with Criminals.

Random story: Son Volt's first debut was here at First Ave. For some reason, the song Whiskey Bottle ("Whiskey bottle over Jesus, not forever, just for now") became a Fraternity Boy theme song. So at the show there were people yelling for it all night. Jay never played it. The next night, no one yelled for it. Jay played the song.

I like Jay.

Liberty Lunch (11.07.1997) : Windfall Tease
Throughout Uncle Tupelo's history, I'm not sure the pair ever sang the other's songs that they had written. And obviously once they broke up, that wasn't gonna happen. I don't know if this is the only time it happened, but this is from a Wilco show. It cracks me up.

Jeff: "We haven't practiced that one enough."

Lounge Ax 01.2000 : Pecan Pie
This is from one of Jeff's solo shows. It's a Golden Smog song. I love Golden Smog. Especially since there's such a Minneapolis connection with Louris and Johnson. Jeff's Smog name is Scot Summit.

Mine's Elizabeth Lake, for the record.

Moving on:

Last Stand at Lounge Ax : New Madrid
This was recorded at Wilco's last show at Lounge Ax, a Chicago club. Jeff used to occasionally bartend, and he met his wife there. She (and her father, I think) were the owners. There were some condos behind the place (I think they went up after Lounge Ax had been around for years) and some yuppie whiner complained so vociferously about the noise that the city shut the club down.

That's just not right.

Kosher Spears : My Man
This is a Tim Easton song. I don't know if Kosher Spears was before or after Haynes Boys. It's a catchy song. I will now make my plea: if you do not download any other songs, please download this one. Tim Easton really deserves more popularity and acclaim than he currently gets.

If you think Jay is lyrically brilliant, I think you might like Tim.

Tim Easton : Bitters Past
This is from Southern Theatre. Later in the set, right before All the Pretty Girls Leave Town, someone calls out for Bitters Past, and Tim says, "Someone came in a little late, I guess."

If you're in the Twin Cities area, from 9 to 10:30 pm tonight on KFAI 90.3 my dear friend Amanda and her boy Todd are on the radio.

I'm listening to the show now. I actually had to find my antennae for my receiver to get the station in. I like the music. It's nothing I've ever heard. Which surprises me not a bit. But yay, Amanda and Todd.

So I never listened to their old show because it was on at three in the morning. But I think I'm gonna go get the shows off of KFAI's archives, because Todd is cracking me the hell up. They both need a radio show, dammit. I love hearing Amanda.

I just thought of a random story.

Heathrow is the queen of misheard lyrics. I've often thought that I should write them down for posterity. My absolutely favorite misheard lyric occurred a few months ago.

We were listening to the radio and Counting Crows' cover of Joni Mitchell's "They Paved Paradise" came on. Partway through the song, Heathrow piped up. She wondered if Counting Crows had changed the lyrics at all or if Joni was prophetic.

I asked her what she meant and she replied that it was weird that Joni was writing about DVDs way back in the 70s.

I looked at her and asked what the hell she was talking about. So she recited one of the lyrics:

"Hey farmer farmer, put away your DVDs now."

I don't know if I have ever laughed harder. After I explained to her what DDT was, she cracked up too.

I wish I could remember more of them. I love Heathrow. She is one of the more gracious, intelligent, skilled, and funny people I know. And I can talk about her because she never reads this.

A continuance of random week. You've been warned.

They didn't use my hand and horseshoe shot in the cookbook. So Heathrow and I had to go throw horseshoes to redo the shot. She pretended to be throwing and I was just out of the shot a few feet from the pole thingie throwing them. It turned out pretty cool.

When we got back, we found that the boys had hidden three talking phones in our office.

The back story:

I found the clocks a few weeks ago whilst cleaning out an office. You press a button and it dings and tells you the time. You can also set it up so it goes off every hour. So I handed them out thinking that people's kids might like them.

I forgot, unfortunately, that my co-workers are kids. They started hiding them everywhere: in desks, in cabinets, in drawers. One was even found in the ceiling.

Lately it has become a war between Heathrow and myself against two of our co-workers. And the war has been escalating. Today, anytime we'd leave our desk they'd hide them again. We'd have to find them and think up a new hiding place in their offices.

It got so that at the top of the hour we'd have to turn off all music, position ourselves at different points in the office, and listen closely. By the end of the day we had three clocks we were searching for.

So we cooked up the ultimate hiding place. Both guys have empty cabinets by their desks. We put them in there, locked it, and hid the keys. Unless they jimmy the lock, they're stuck with them.

Once they get rid of them, I'm going to record the alarm sound and put it on their computers as the hourly sound. The best part is, I know a way to make files invisible, so there's no way they can get rid of it.

It is never a good idea to cross me.

In writing earlier about my hand modeling gig, I am reminded of the fact that I have been in some dozen books as a hand model. And I found one of them. It's all about Biblical love stories. It's unique in the sense that my body is actually in the shots, not just my hands. The shots are hilarious.

Most memorable: I had to do a Samson & Delilah shot with this guy with really long hair. He had to lay his head in my lap and I had to run my fingers through his hair.

Yeah, okay fine. Except long-haired boy just stank. Like he hadn't showered in a month. Greasy hair, sour smell. And the shot took forever to get. I shudder just thinking about it.

Man, looking through this book, I forgot how much I'm in it. And the final shot is of me as Mary, pregnant and everything.

I used a pillow.

So, as you may or may not know, in honor of my impending birthday, I am dedicating this rant to all things random. Today's installment:

My random job.

The day started like any other: it sucked. But 2:00 in the afternoon found me throwing horseshoes over and over again so our photographer could get an in-air shot of the horseshoe for the cookbook. So you, dear reader, get to see a shot of my hand:

So then, at 4:00, I was on my way to assist with a photo shoot of an Italian family picnic under a tree. We had a huge table and everything. And it was HEAVY.

The shot was supposed to look like the family had just eaten and it was around sunset. And the client wanted olives in the shot. We HAD to have olives. Mounds and mounds of olives. IMPERATIVE!

So for half an hour, I was running around this huge table, munching on olives, placing olives, trying to make the dishes and flatware look used, and trying to make it look like a real family picnic. I even put some lipstick prints on a few of the glasses.

Then the model family showed up. They weren't actually a family, but it represented a Grandma, Grandpa, Mom, Dad, Brother, and Sister.

And because our photographer had to stand back aways to take the shots, I had to direct the models.

Do you know how weird that is?

And they weren't good at taking direction. We had initially told them they needed to be smiley and move around a lot. But they were pretty stiff, so I was yelling out cheesy crap like, "You're supposed to be Italian! Gesture wildly!" or "Big smiles! Bigger smiles!" or "Pick up your glass! Take a sip! Emote!"

The grandparents and the mom apparently knew each other, so they were able to chit chat and make it a little more natural, but they kept talking about people who had died or some personal tragedies in their lives. So half the time, they were frowning or grimacing. I was going insane.

I can't imagine doing this for a living. It's too weird.

Hm. Instead of random words, I am going to post random images. Oh c'mon people. It'll be fun!

RANDOM IMAGES by CLAIRE

My mom's china (see above) is famous. It's featured in one of the cookbooks I prattle on about. The shot's rather traditional, but it turned out nice.

Say hi to Clarus the Moo Cow. If you click on her, she should go "Moof!".

The above font is Clairiccimo. Named after me. Okay... I named it after me.

I earned this nickname when I first started working on bibles. I was trying to figure out where to hyphenate Sadducees. So I asked out loud and pronounced it "Saduccis". As in Father Guido. And everybody cracked up.

I was informed, between giggles, that it was pronounced "Sad-you-see". "They don't believe in Jesus. So they're sad, you see." So Duff started calling me Clairiccimo.

Anyway, a few years later I had to make this pain-in-the-ass font. Didn't know what to call it.

Clairiccimo was born.

MAO!

I have been looking for a Mao t-shirt for the past ten years. I want one as bad as I want a square ring. I'm sure you've seen the shirts. They're red with his image in black.

Anyway, I might have a hook-up. My mom's best friend is going to China and I asked her to get me one. So, if she remembers and if they still make them, I'm golden. *crosses fingers*

Uncle Tupelo. Jay's on the left and Jeff's on the right.

But aside from the band, the photo is notable for the sign.

"Liquor, Guns & Ammo". To sum up, if you want to get liquored up and shoot at things, head on over.

This is what it looks like when you drop watermelons repeatedly on a car from atop a five-story building.

And this? Well, this is what it looks like when you drop an anvil on a car from atop a five-story building.

And this... this would be what happens when you chainsaw a car completely in half.

Why am I posting these? That, people, is what my family does for fun one day every summer. And you, gentle reader, wonder why I'm as screwed up as I am. They own a hardware store in the Minneapolis warehouse district.

Carrying on:

Welcome to my standard Monday menace:

Watch LAX. Watch it, I say!

I can't get anybody to watch it. Not even our resident pilot. Sigh.

The only show I've gotten anyone to watch is Keen Eddie (coming to a DVD near you shortly!). And it was my mom I convinced. And it was after the show went into syndication.

Tonight's LAX did not disappoint. The storyline of the kid who hangs out in the airport because his girlfriend was killed was sad. And then the disparate reactions when he helped out the two characters was both beautiful and heartbreaking. I hope he'll be on again.

Oh well. In other news, As Time Goes By is being rerun on TPT 2. I absolutely love that show. Dame Judi Dench is so wonderful. So is Geoffrey Palmer.

As you probably don't know, I check my website stats daily. I look at the searches people are finding me with, I check to see what sites/forums are linking to me, and I ferret out Hotlinking punters. I also like to see what the numbers are like. Last month I reached an all-time high of over 15,000 visitors.

I will remind regular readers that approximately one year ago I had a whopping 33 people drop by for the month.

And it never fails to amaze me how people get to my site. The Wright searches are pretty innocuous, yes. But the ones into my rants crack me up. Since it's so many random words on this page and it changes daily, people often show up looking for unrelated subjects. I feel bad (which is why I have the disclaimer at the top) but what can I do?

Often people coming into my site do searches of an entire quote they're looking for. Or sometimes people enter questions instead of keywords. It's interesting (to me) which quotes/questions are most popular.

I also get my fair share of people coming into the Oz pages with some pretty disgusting phrases. Phrases I won't mention here. Sometimes they were looking for Oz-related info, sometimes not.

Now I'm fine with that. In fact, since the whole reason I started quoting shows was because I couldn't find my favorites from Oz, I'm very happy when an Oz fan visits.

But within the last maybe 6 months a disturbing trend has emerged. And it is becoming more and more prevalent. I'm not happy with it.

So let's set the record straight:

There is no Simpsons porn at this site. Not Bart and Lisa, not Bart and Marge, not Homer and Lisa. Not one bit. And you're sick for looking for it. THEY'RE CARTOONS, PEOPLE!

AND for the record:

• I have not one image of Chris Meloni naked. Or Lee Tergesen. If you're looking for some full-frontal, I suggest you just rent the DVDs.
  
• There are no naked shots of Lindsey Weir from Freaks and Geeks.
  
• There is not one picture of a naked Kyan on this site. Furthermore, I don't have shots of any of the other Fab Fivers in the buff.
  
• I don't know what will happen to Seth or Ryan on this season of The OC. Unfortunately for me, Josh Schwartz is not my bestest friend.
  
• I don't know what designer label Rachael Bilson wears.
  
• And yes, Scully and Mulder had sex. If you didn't notice, they had a child together. That sort of gave it away.

So Friday I had a goal. It was brilliant, I tell you.

I wanted to create and hone the most exceedingly random rant I could possibly come up with.

The idea was good. It was sound. And it was do-able.

I even thought up some random things to write about on the way home. Most rants evolve on my way home, for some reason.

So I got home, opened up my laptop, and got ready to write. Nothing.

I had nothing.

Fortunately, Saturdays are fabulous fodder for rants. Fodderific. And today was no exception. So, I will attempt to write The. Most. Random. Rant. Ever.

SON VOLT IS IN THE STUDIO!

Recording (hopefully) a new album. !!!! I knew that Jay always said that Son Volt was only on hiatus, but I assumed he was going solo for good and just being kind.

But no. Son Volt is back.

I just hope Mark Spencer is involved in the project.

And what about Boquist? He's with Kraig Johnston last I heard.

Anyway: It's a beautiful day in Minneapolis. The air is crisp. The people are out.

I love October. It's my favorite month. And not just because my birthday is in October.

I can't believe I turn 27 in less than ten days.

I'm watching the True Life about some football kid from St. Paul, and they're showing a Subway that I think is next to my hairdresser's shop on Grand. Woah.

Ack! Now they're showing the Chipotle in Highland that we go to for lunch all the time.

RANDOM FACT: I once won a free burrito there for identifying the most ingredients in the guacamole.

Does anyone else think bodybuilding is both incredibly creepy and pointless? 'Cause I do.

I respect and appreciate that MTV has a campaign going to get people to vote, but it's annoying. Especially the "Vote or Die" portion. Vote or die? C'mon. No one's gonna die because you don't vote.

Killing animals and putting their heads on the wall is weird. And sick and creepy. Really creepy. Don't kill things, kids. Just my $.02.

So how am I doing with randomness? I think pretty well. I'll add to that:

I saw a teenager... well maybe not even a teenager. She looked 12. Anyway: I saw a girl wearing a miniskirt at the grocery store. And we're talking MINI skirt. I've been seeing them more and more on young girls lately.

ATTENTION PARENTS: Do not sexualize your children. It's gross. It's creepy. And I find it weird.

Man. If my mom ever saw me wearing something that damn short she'd... well, my mom would never let me wear something that damn short. And I'm 26.

MORE RANDOM: Ted Allen is on Iron Chef American. As is Gunther from Friends. It's quite weird seeing Ted. I must admit that he may be my favorite Queer Eye guy. And is Gunther a food guru? That would be cool.

Okay, it's 2 am and I believe I have created the most random, rambling, boring rant ever. Having achieved my goal, I will retire for the evening.

Er, morning.