I would be... remiss. If I did not mention that today is the release date for the B-52s new album, Funplex.

How awesome is that?

I thought I would throw up a song to celebrate. So here you go—Foo Fighters with Fred Schneider doing that ol' chestnut, Planet Claire...



And while you're listening, pop on over to Free Rice and test your vocabulary.

So don't mock me for it, but I've been watching The Big Give. Despite not really caring for Oprah that much.

Random story: I actually got screamed at once by an acquaintance who watched Oprah and decided that her sofa-style psychology snippets were life changing and that I was a negative person in her life who needed to be cut out.

Dude, screamed at. And trust me when I tell you that the offending event was weirdly minor.

Woo! Tangent.

Anyway, smack dab in the middle of the episode? JOE SCHILLACI. They didn't even mention him by name. Just boom: Joe. And just for a minute. But I totally yelled at my TV when he showed up.

He is one of the many many many reasons to watch The First 48.

I was thinking today that I needed a new email address and figured I would get one that commemorates my favorite little unincorporated town: Port Wing.

Some people buy shoes. I buy domain names.

Anyway, this might be my favorite.

I was going through my mementos tonight to find photos of Port Wing (I have a bunch of my cabin) and found all sorts of stuff I forgot I had. In my youth, for some unknown reason, I was the inspiration for art, poetry and newspaper articles.

No, seriously.

But larger than that, I came across cards and notes from long-lost friends. It's hard to realize that there are people out there that are lost to you that you thought you'd know forever.

I miss them all terribly. And hope they're doing well. All of them.

Well I finally got around to watching American Idol Destroys the Beatles Part Deux. And had to rewind it about eight times to figure out what Michael was singing when he fucked up the lyrics to A Day in the Life. I'm still not entirely sure.

But there was definitely a high point in musical choices this evening: Robert Plant and Alison Krauss singing Killing the Blues. Even if it was a commercial for jeans or something. Other than that? Nothing. But. Fail.

Oh well. I am all alone this weekend. Friends, family, business partner and wellwishers are all out of town. Which is good and bad. At the very least, I expect people to bring me back gifts.

After Tuesday's Lennon/McCartney night on American Idol (an evening of butchery on such a cataclysmic scale I now mark it as a sure sign of the apocalypse) I thought I would avoid it tonight by fastforwarding through the repeat performances. And my ears were safe until I happened upon a disheartening thing—the butchering of a Cake song. Not, to be clear, anywhere near as disheartening as the previous evening. Not one of my favorite Cake songs. But still just annoying all the same. Stick to ELO and Whitney covers.

Whatever. I should stop watching. The contestants are such throwaways with zero emotional range they all blend into a light tan ball of hair product and glitter. And Paula seems relatively sober this season, so Spot-the-Slurring is no longer fun.

Speaking of tattoos, the ever-lovely Saint Starlet has gotten one. Personally, I think it's a little dark. And if I were her I'd want to keep my past misdeeds in the past. But I suppose it was either that or one of those teardrops in the corner of the eye. 

Fun Fact: If you look closely at the area about an inch above her new tattoo, you can faintly see the tattoo she got removed. Which, strangely enough, used to say "Hugger".

In honor of her new tat, I have a song just for her:



Random Story: I had an ex-boss who would always try and throw slang into everyday conversation. Just to show that he was hip like that. But he was anything but hip and any attempt at it would just be full of fail. The man just was incapable of not being lame. From his wardrobe to his car to his life. It would almost be sad if it wasn't so damn funny. Anyway, whenever he would talk about tattoos, he'd always call them "toos". Like, "That guy had a really awesome 'too." And he'd pronounce it like "woooo".

I would say it sounded rather gay when he said it, but no self-respecting gay man would ever sound that lame.

So as my old boss would say, "Slammin' 'toooo, Y!"

As much as I adore my web hosting company, their spam filter... not so great. Or perhaps it could be, but it tends to block emails that are legitimate so I don't really use it. And because of this I get a ton of spam every day to sort through.

And I can't help but notice the natural ebb and flow of spam. It's like the tides of the seas...

No, there is one. A certain style of subject will become really popular for a few days or weeks and then gradually disappear, never to be received again. I have no idea why this is. Maybe that specific spammer was taken out and shot for crimes against humanity. It's entirely plausible.

But to me the most amusing spam ebb and flow is that of male enhancement.In the last few months in particular it went from photos of pills to sex-ay bedroom shots of couples to full-on before-and-after genitalia.

But the latest one has left me the most amused—a rather crude drawing of the now ubiquitous before-and-after shot.

It just cracks me up to imagine some guy thinking, "Geez, my spam messages seem stale and lifeless lately. What should I add? Wait, I'll draw something!"

I mean pictures are easy enough to grab off of the internet. But to take the time to sit down and draw this little gem takes some planning. Did he do some rough sketches before the final piece? Some studies? Was there a model involved? And did he (as the quality would suggest) use MacPaint?

So for the past few weeks I'd been noticing that there was some sort of... I don't know, clicking? Lifting? Flicking?

Problem. With the left side of my laptop case. I thought maybe something wasn't quite tight and I was hitting a lip of the case with my palm and it was coming away from the edge slightly or something.

Something indeed. A slice of the case cracked off today. It didn't come off completely, and I taped it down. But I'm pissed. I have never had a problem with a Mac laptop case before. Not only that, but according to my preliminary research this is a common happenstance. Which just serves to remind me how far Apple quality has fallen.

What happened to you, Apple? You used to be cool.