I saw the Hooters in concert 19 years ago (yes, I was 11). They played at the local Catholic school's gym. It was a benefit show for a little girl who needed a bone marrow transplant. And it was a pretty big deal at the time, I guess. They had made it pretty big with Nervous Night and they had just released One Way Home.
Friday's show was also a big deal, at least to a lot of people in Philly. When we arrived at the Electric Factory after work, they were lined up for blocks around the corner to get in. I was surprised. The show was sold out and I can honestly say I've never seen that many people at the Electric Factory before. It was crazy.
We were harassed by a scary dude in the parking lot. I acted crazy so that he'd leave us alone. I said the most off the wall thing to Paul that came to mind and the guy just looked at us an walked away. The look on Paul's face was priceless because he didn't know what I was doing. This was advice that I recently got from the Opie and Anthony show about what to do when approached by someone in a parking lot...
"Excuse me, which way is north?"
"Uh..."
Bam! And then the next thing you hear is "Just hear those sleigh bells jinglin'" But wasn't it just summer? Why are you in the hospital? Why aren't there any mirrors around you? Why is your mom in the corner crying?
But I digress...
We got to the end of the long line and finally got in. We made our way up stairs to the bar area, found a spot and got beer (in that order, right, Paul?). There was an opening band. I can't remember their name. Ike? Ipe? They sing that song that goes "Baby do you wanna take a ride into Philadelphia?" I don't know if they play that song in other parts of the country, but you hear it around here sometimes. I'm not dying to get their CD or anything, but they weren't bad, I guess.
The Hooters came on with one of their later songs that I'm not familiar with. Then they went into "Day by Day." For the most part, they played a lot of slower crap and stuff that sucked. They covered "The Boys of Summer," which was slow, but okay. They did the bad version of "Fightin' on the Same Side," which really disappointed me. If fact, they really didn't play anything from Amore, surprising to me, considering that the crowd was probably full of die hard Philly fans who would have loved it. Fairly late into the first set, they played "Karla with a K" and said that they'd be rereleasing a newer version for hurricane victims in New Orleans. That's cool. They played "And We Danced" and the place went nuts. They came back out three times for encores. The first time, they completely shut off the lights on stage and played "All You Zombies." During the second encore, they came out and played songs that they wrote that were performed by other artists like "Time After Time" and "What If God Was One of Us?" At some point during this encore, they also did a little medley that ended with a verse of "Don't Knock It 'Til You Try It." They ended the final encore with "Blood From a Stone" and I was relieved because I was starting to think they weren't going to play it. It's one of my favorite songs due to the use of the word "bullshit."
Overall, it was okay. I guess I'm disappointed because they didn't play much from my two favorite albums, Amore and One Way Home. Well, they played some stuff from One Way Home, but it was the commercialized stuff. I would have been psyched with "Engine 999" or the title track. And they seemed to still be dressed in their 80's outfits. Rob Hyman is still hot and I'd still have 10,000 of his babies. But dude, the white pants and the vest have got to go.
Friday, June 16, 2006
Tuesday, June 6, 2006
I Think I Met a Culty on 06/06/06
A few weeks ago, I had a really bad experience at the ghetto Office Max. Okay, it's not really in the ghetto, but let's just say this Office Max isn't nearly as nice as the two other Office Max stores that are all within 10 miles of each other. At the ghetto Office Max, I experienced really poor service when I was trying to buy a chair for my computer desk. I took the little paper slip to the counter. A guy went back to their warehouse to look for my chair, but never took the slip with him. Then he called up front and said he couldn't find the chair and I should probably come back a few days later. I just went to another Office Max and bought the chair there instead.
Today, I went a little out of my way to the newest of the three Office Max stores to buy a new chair for my office since my boss broke my chair last week. No, she's not fat! She was trying to fix it for me. Sheesh! Anyway, I was barely in the furniture section before a tall, creepy looking blonde guy (who, in my mind, I nicknamed Skip because he just looked like a Skip) practically jumped on my back trying to sell me a chair. "Is this for an 8 hour job?" No, 10. "Arm rests? Wheels?" Both, please. No, that one's back is too low. I don't want a gray one...
This continued for a few minutes when Skip showed me this ugly ergonomic mess that seemed to move with me with every motion. "Mmmmm...I don't think so. I feel like a quadriplegic," I said, since it reminded me of that thing they used to wheel Christopher Reeve around in. I giggled about that, but it didn't really seem to phase Skip at all.
Side note: I know. I'm not supposed to make fun of the handicapped. But for those of you who don't know, the handicap jokes in my family were very common because my mom had very severe Multiple Sclerosis and an excellent sense of humor. Heck, her jokes were usually the funniest ones. I guess sometimes I forget that some people take things more seriously. But really these people should lighten the fuck up.
Skip had the same look in his eye like my cat used to have when he was a kitten and wanted to run up my leg. He was so determined! I had forgotten that this was the Office Max with the poor selection of chairs and felt a bit trapped. "I'll go get you the big catalogue! We're going to find you a chair today! Even if we have to order one!" I'm not kidding. He was that freakin' excited. I glanced down to see if his pants were wet.
Wanting to crush this guy's spirit (since I truly believe that's my life's mission...crushing the hopes of the perky), I said, "Well, I don't know. Maybe I should check in with my office and see what my budget is on this..." It didn't matter what I was talking about. I could have said, "Skip, this quadriplegic chair is turning me on! I want to handcuff you to it and give you a lap dance! Right here! In the middle of the store!" Skip would not have heard a word I said. He was so fucking hell bent on selling me a chair. I pushed the books away from him. If I was going to buy a chair without trying it out first, I would have ordered it from the internet and avoided his perky ass.
"Well, there's one more up front that maybe you'd like, but I don't know if it's enough for you." He seemed to be toning down a bit. He really really wanted me to look at the glossy pages of the catalogue. Turns out the chair up front was almost the same chair that I'm sitting on at home right now. I told him this and he said, "But can you take it for 10 hours?" Oh can I, Skip! I told him I'm also a grad student and I've surely spent 10 hours in this chair at a time. He seemed disappointed. And it wasn't that it was a cheap chair. "Can I get you a floor mat?" No thanks, Skip. I prefer to wheel over the corpses of men who enjoy their lives a little too much. "Jose will take it to your car for you." Dejected, Skip scurried back to the back of the store where he belongs.
Ok. Who loves their job that freakin' much? Especially in retail! It almost made me miss the lack of service at the other Office Depot.
Well, I better get back to my new chair now. They seem to be tugging on the leash that's tied to it.
PS Happy National Day of Slayer!
Today, I went a little out of my way to the newest of the three Office Max stores to buy a new chair for my office since my boss broke my chair last week. No, she's not fat! She was trying to fix it for me. Sheesh! Anyway, I was barely in the furniture section before a tall, creepy looking blonde guy (who, in my mind, I nicknamed Skip because he just looked like a Skip) practically jumped on my back trying to sell me a chair. "Is this for an 8 hour job?" No, 10. "Arm rests? Wheels?" Both, please. No, that one's back is too low. I don't want a gray one...
This continued for a few minutes when Skip showed me this ugly ergonomic mess that seemed to move with me with every motion. "Mmmmm...I don't think so. I feel like a quadriplegic," I said, since it reminded me of that thing they used to wheel Christopher Reeve around in. I giggled about that, but it didn't really seem to phase Skip at all.
Side note: I know. I'm not supposed to make fun of the handicapped. But for those of you who don't know, the handicap jokes in my family were very common because my mom had very severe Multiple Sclerosis and an excellent sense of humor. Heck, her jokes were usually the funniest ones. I guess sometimes I forget that some people take things more seriously. But really these people should lighten the fuck up.
Skip had the same look in his eye like my cat used to have when he was a kitten and wanted to run up my leg. He was so determined! I had forgotten that this was the Office Max with the poor selection of chairs and felt a bit trapped. "I'll go get you the big catalogue! We're going to find you a chair today! Even if we have to order one!" I'm not kidding. He was that freakin' excited. I glanced down to see if his pants were wet.
Wanting to crush this guy's spirit (since I truly believe that's my life's mission...crushing the hopes of the perky), I said, "Well, I don't know. Maybe I should check in with my office and see what my budget is on this..." It didn't matter what I was talking about. I could have said, "Skip, this quadriplegic chair is turning me on! I want to handcuff you to it and give you a lap dance! Right here! In the middle of the store!" Skip would not have heard a word I said. He was so fucking hell bent on selling me a chair. I pushed the books away from him. If I was going to buy a chair without trying it out first, I would have ordered it from the internet and avoided his perky ass.
"Well, there's one more up front that maybe you'd like, but I don't know if it's enough for you." He seemed to be toning down a bit. He really really wanted me to look at the glossy pages of the catalogue. Turns out the chair up front was almost the same chair that I'm sitting on at home right now. I told him this and he said, "But can you take it for 10 hours?" Oh can I, Skip! I told him I'm also a grad student and I've surely spent 10 hours in this chair at a time. He seemed disappointed. And it wasn't that it was a cheap chair. "Can I get you a floor mat?" No thanks, Skip. I prefer to wheel over the corpses of men who enjoy their lives a little too much. "Jose will take it to your car for you." Dejected, Skip scurried back to the back of the store where he belongs.
Ok. Who loves their job that freakin' much? Especially in retail! It almost made me miss the lack of service at the other Office Depot.
Well, I better get back to my new chair now. They seem to be tugging on the leash that's tied to it.
PS Happy National Day of Slayer!
Thursday, June 1, 2006
Like Ben Franklin said, "I didn't fail the test. I found a 100 ways to do it wrong."
Fuuuuuuuccccckkkk!
So I studied. I mean, I really really fucking studied more or less non stop for the last three days for my accounting midterm (yes, can you believe it's "mid term" already?). I thought I had a grasp on this shit. Then I got to the test and my mind...went...blank... I got overwhelmed, nearly passing out from the stress. Numbers spun around and danced in my head like Sesame Street puppets.
I think I failed.
And I think having to take this class is total fucking bullshit. I'm a fucking HR major! I can hire someone to do managerial accounting. I have no ambition of ever owning my own company and there is zero chance of me ever finding myself in a position in which I'm going to have to use activity based costing to figure out the cost per DVD player manufactured. And if I do happen to find myself in that position, one of you better promise to put me out of my misery.
"But you need to know something about accounting. How else will you balance your check book."
Fuck you. I balance my check book to the penny. Always have. It's addition and subtraction, not brain fucking surgery. Hell, unless I'm in a foriegn country, I don't even use ATMs that belong to other banks because I'm afraid I'm not going to total the fees correctly. I can budget my bills and spending money just fine. And even when I occassionally fall into a pit of retail therapy, I even have a plan for that payback immediately. What more fucking accounting could I possibly need?
I'm so worked up about this. I'm now on my second Red Nectar of the evening and I've barely been home an hour. It's the only way I foresee myself sleeping tonight.
So I studied. I mean, I really really fucking studied more or less non stop for the last three days for my accounting midterm (yes, can you believe it's "mid term" already?). I thought I had a grasp on this shit. Then I got to the test and my mind...went...blank... I got overwhelmed, nearly passing out from the stress. Numbers spun around and danced in my head like Sesame Street puppets.
I think I failed.
And I think having to take this class is total fucking bullshit. I'm a fucking HR major! I can hire someone to do managerial accounting. I have no ambition of ever owning my own company and there is zero chance of me ever finding myself in a position in which I'm going to have to use activity based costing to figure out the cost per DVD player manufactured. And if I do happen to find myself in that position, one of you better promise to put me out of my misery.
"But you need to know something about accounting. How else will you balance your check book."
Fuck you. I balance my check book to the penny. Always have. It's addition and subtraction, not brain fucking surgery. Hell, unless I'm in a foriegn country, I don't even use ATMs that belong to other banks because I'm afraid I'm not going to total the fees correctly. I can budget my bills and spending money just fine. And even when I occassionally fall into a pit of retail therapy, I even have a plan for that payback immediately. What more fucking accounting could I possibly need?
I'm so worked up about this. I'm now on my second Red Nectar of the evening and I've barely been home an hour. It's the only way I foresee myself sleeping tonight.
Monday, May 29, 2006
I Wish I Was a Messenger and All the News Was Good - Pearl Jam Sans My Morning Jacket
I'll never claim to be a big Pearl Jam fan. But I like them. I liked them a lot before Ten was discovered by retarded white hats. Then I thought they were just ok. Some songs are better than others. Some songs sound alike. I have a few of their CDs. They're ok.
But I love to see them live. They put on a decent show and the crowd is interesting to watch. Besides the retarded white hats, you have displaced dead heads, nerdy people, normal people. There's a good mix and a good balance.
I went with my sisters Lori and Tracy (who is visiting from CA) and Lori's husband Stevie to this one. The show was in Camden, NJ. I typically drive right into Camden (and drive the fuck right out after a show because it's a little rough after dark), but Lori and Stevie were driving and wanted to take the ferry from Philly. I never took the ferry before and figured this would at least be an experience. I could decide if it's a better choice for the next show that I'm going to in Camden.
It probably would not have been so bad if there hadn't been an all day Ween concert at Penn's Landing that day. That's right. Those "Push the Little Daisies and Make 'Em Come Up" fuckers screwed us. There was nowhere to park to catch the ferry. We were turned away from lots and garages for several blocks before we finally got some parking at Dave and Busters. We all had a beer in the garage when we got there to settle down a bit while Stevie said, "Ferry" and we all laughed. Maybe you had to be there.
We walked and walked, still not entirely sure where we were supposed to pick up the ferry. We finally found it and got to the end of a very long line. After waiting in that line to get tickets, we got to the back of another long line to get on the boat. By this time it was about 7:30, the time that the opening act was to start. But that's ok. I'm sure this will probably get me kicked off of myspace, but I can't think of a single My Morning Jacket song anyway. I've heard of them. I just can't think of anything they do. Anyway, the ferry ride was fairly short and smooth. As we walked to the gates, we heard the last of My Morning Jacket. We got frisked and then my sisters and I waited in the very long Yuengling line.
"But Chrissy! Aren't you boycotting Yuengling because of the issues surrounding their union?"
Sssssssssshhhhhhhhhh!!!!!
Anyway, we got beer and made it to our seats. If you've ever been to the Tweeter Center, you know that there is a general admission lawn area and a covered amphitheater type seating area. We were in the very last row of the amphitheater. This was nice because we had a little breeze going. We could turn around and look at the moon and the stars. And we could kick the people trying to jump the wall to get from the general admission area to the amphitheater.
There was a couple sitting in front of us. They got drunk and started making out. Then, towards the end of the first set, they both sat a few seats away from each other, each with their heads in their hands. I told Tracy, "I think they just realized that they're first cousins or something."
As for the show itself, the setlist can be found here. I was happy that they played "Given to Fly" because that if my favorite song that they do live. Although, the audience didn't seem as into it as the other times that I've seen them. We toasted to Mike McCready's balls for some reason. I didn't recognize "Garden," although I was spacing pretty bad at that point. They also played "Crazy Mary," which is my favorite cover song that they do. But I would have liked to hear "Harvest Moon" or some other Neil Young song. And Eddie psyched us out. He said, "We're going to dedicate this next song to one of our friends and mentors," as we all geared for a Neil Young song, "Mr. Dick Cheney." People laughed as they broke into "Glorified G." They kept up with this trend that I've noticed where all bands have to play either "Baba O'Riley" or "Won't Get Fooled Again" close to the end of the show. They finally finished with "Yellow Ledbetter" and an impromptu "Star Spangled Banner" guitar solo. As I looked in front of me during the national anthem, I realized that the female half of the couple that was making out in front of us was now a few rows ahead on top of the guy's shoulders flashing everyone. God bless America! We fought our way out, waited a long time for the ferry and drove home.
All in all, it wasn't bad. I was happy to hang out with my sisters more than anything. Looking over the setlists, the night before was probably a little better, but that's ok.
I know that this is long, but what can I say? I'm procrastinating from doing my homework.
But I love to see them live. They put on a decent show and the crowd is interesting to watch. Besides the retarded white hats, you have displaced dead heads, nerdy people, normal people. There's a good mix and a good balance.
I went with my sisters Lori and Tracy (who is visiting from CA) and Lori's husband Stevie to this one. The show was in Camden, NJ. I typically drive right into Camden (and drive the fuck right out after a show because it's a little rough after dark), but Lori and Stevie were driving and wanted to take the ferry from Philly. I never took the ferry before and figured this would at least be an experience. I could decide if it's a better choice for the next show that I'm going to in Camden.
It probably would not have been so bad if there hadn't been an all day Ween concert at Penn's Landing that day. That's right. Those "Push the Little Daisies and Make 'Em Come Up" fuckers screwed us. There was nowhere to park to catch the ferry. We were turned away from lots and garages for several blocks before we finally got some parking at Dave and Busters. We all had a beer in the garage when we got there to settle down a bit while Stevie said, "Ferry" and we all laughed. Maybe you had to be there.
We walked and walked, still not entirely sure where we were supposed to pick up the ferry. We finally found it and got to the end of a very long line. After waiting in that line to get tickets, we got to the back of another long line to get on the boat. By this time it was about 7:30, the time that the opening act was to start. But that's ok. I'm sure this will probably get me kicked off of myspace, but I can't think of a single My Morning Jacket song anyway. I've heard of them. I just can't think of anything they do. Anyway, the ferry ride was fairly short and smooth. As we walked to the gates, we heard the last of My Morning Jacket. We got frisked and then my sisters and I waited in the very long Yuengling line.
"But Chrissy! Aren't you boycotting Yuengling because of the issues surrounding their union?"
Sssssssssshhhhhhhhhh!!!!!
Anyway, we got beer and made it to our seats. If you've ever been to the Tweeter Center, you know that there is a general admission lawn area and a covered amphitheater type seating area. We were in the very last row of the amphitheater. This was nice because we had a little breeze going. We could turn around and look at the moon and the stars. And we could kick the people trying to jump the wall to get from the general admission area to the amphitheater.
There was a couple sitting in front of us. They got drunk and started making out. Then, towards the end of the first set, they both sat a few seats away from each other, each with their heads in their hands. I told Tracy, "I think they just realized that they're first cousins or something."
As for the show itself, the setlist can be found here. I was happy that they played "Given to Fly" because that if my favorite song that they do live. Although, the audience didn't seem as into it as the other times that I've seen them. We toasted to Mike McCready's balls for some reason. I didn't recognize "Garden," although I was spacing pretty bad at that point. They also played "Crazy Mary," which is my favorite cover song that they do. But I would have liked to hear "Harvest Moon" or some other Neil Young song. And Eddie psyched us out. He said, "We're going to dedicate this next song to one of our friends and mentors," as we all geared for a Neil Young song, "Mr. Dick Cheney." People laughed as they broke into "Glorified G." They kept up with this trend that I've noticed where all bands have to play either "Baba O'Riley" or "Won't Get Fooled Again" close to the end of the show. They finally finished with "Yellow Ledbetter" and an impromptu "Star Spangled Banner" guitar solo. As I looked in front of me during the national anthem, I realized that the female half of the couple that was making out in front of us was now a few rows ahead on top of the guy's shoulders flashing everyone. God bless America! We fought our way out, waited a long time for the ferry and drove home.
All in all, it wasn't bad. I was happy to hang out with my sisters more than anything. Looking over the setlists, the night before was probably a little better, but that's ok.
I know that this is long, but what can I say? I'm procrastinating from doing my homework.
Friday, May 19, 2006
There is No Bad Publicity
Let's talk about the Da Vinci Code for a minute.
I had no desire to read the book, much less see the movie until I saw all these boneheads protesting it. In fact, I thought I was saving a few of my friends hours of their lives at the Barnes and Noble by saying, "Don't do it. You don't want to be 'that guy.' Here's a copy of Hunter S. Thompson's 'Hells Angels' instead." But then again, I've never been able to get into the big best sellers. I've tried your Celestine Prophecy (too many things to disagree with), your Prozac Nation (too whiney and pathetic) and your Tuesdays with Morrie (too Hallmark Movie Special-esque). I like the off color and bizarre. I proudly display magnets with the faces of Charles Bukowski and William S. Burroughs on my refrigerator.
So why are people so worked up about this? Now I'm curious. I'll admit that I have not read it, but from what I gather it's about the discovery that, God forbid, Jesus married and had children and his decendants are living in France. Aaaanndddd? So what? The only thing that disturbs me about the idea of how arrogant these decendents would be. I don't really care what the author has said on sensationalized news programs about it being based on truth. Of course he's going to say that. He's trying to get your ass in that theater.
Kids, this is a work of fiction. Some might even argue that it's a work of fiction based on another work of fiction. It's not like God wrote the bible himself. Man wrote the bible. And I like to think of it this way - my friends fuck up my stories all the time when they retell them. Maybe Jesus was a real person, but the stories have been told, retold, translated and politically twisted for hundreds of years. How can you fully trust it? Not to mention that many of those stories were not meant to be taken literally. Religion brings about a lot of good things in society, but it also brings out a lot of hatred, intolerance and I'd even be so bold to say that it stifles growth.
Anyway, back to the protests - I'm all for exercising your right to say what you believe. But I think it will create an effect that contradicts what the protests are all about. Drawing attention to something that Hollywood creates will only make people more curious to see why you're so gosh darn pissy about it. It's only a movie. In fact, I almost want to go see the movie just to piss these people off.
I had no desire to read the book, much less see the movie until I saw all these boneheads protesting it. In fact, I thought I was saving a few of my friends hours of their lives at the Barnes and Noble by saying, "Don't do it. You don't want to be 'that guy.' Here's a copy of Hunter S. Thompson's 'Hells Angels' instead." But then again, I've never been able to get into the big best sellers. I've tried your Celestine Prophecy (too many things to disagree with), your Prozac Nation (too whiney and pathetic) and your Tuesdays with Morrie (too Hallmark Movie Special-esque). I like the off color and bizarre. I proudly display magnets with the faces of Charles Bukowski and William S. Burroughs on my refrigerator.
So why are people so worked up about this? Now I'm curious. I'll admit that I have not read it, but from what I gather it's about the discovery that, God forbid, Jesus married and had children and his decendants are living in France. Aaaanndddd? So what? The only thing that disturbs me about the idea of how arrogant these decendents would be. I don't really care what the author has said on sensationalized news programs about it being based on truth. Of course he's going to say that. He's trying to get your ass in that theater.
Kids, this is a work of fiction. Some might even argue that it's a work of fiction based on another work of fiction. It's not like God wrote the bible himself. Man wrote the bible. And I like to think of it this way - my friends fuck up my stories all the time when they retell them. Maybe Jesus was a real person, but the stories have been told, retold, translated and politically twisted for hundreds of years. How can you fully trust it? Not to mention that many of those stories were not meant to be taken literally. Religion brings about a lot of good things in society, but it also brings out a lot of hatred, intolerance and I'd even be so bold to say that it stifles growth.
Anyway, back to the protests - I'm all for exercising your right to say what you believe. But I think it will create an effect that contradicts what the protests are all about. Drawing attention to something that Hollywood creates will only make people more curious to see why you're so gosh darn pissy about it. It's only a movie. In fact, I almost want to go see the movie just to piss these people off.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Politics in East Bumblefuck
I voted tonight in the Pennsylvania primaries. When I vote, I report to the borough fire station. There is a little league field right next to the place where I vote. And of course, the league decided to have a game tonight, making parking scarce.
So I parked illegally and went inside. The first thing I noticed was a big sign by the entrances that said "Voting time limited to three minutes" or something along those lines. Can they do that? Is that constitutional? Granted, it's just the primaries, where in PA, you only vote within your party and most candidates run unopposed. But there are some cases where you have to pick seven candidates out of about a dozen and three have to be men and three have to be women and one could be either. This requires some thought and some reading of names and where the candidates are from. I don't like to feel the pressure. And what if I had a learning disability or some other reason that would make it difficult for me to complete the ballot in time. Even though it didn't seem like they were really enforcing this three minute rule, it just didn't sit well with me.
Then, when I handed them my ID to find my name in the book, the old ladies working the polls went apeshit because I neglected to hand them my change of address. I thought they only needed to check my name and photo. So then, I handed them the change of address slip that I carry with me and this only confused them more. "So it's wrong in the book but right on your license?" No...that's what the change of address card is for.
They were also fairly indignant when they announced to the other polling people that I'm a Democrat.
I'm really starting to wonder if there is any place in this world where I fit in...
So I parked illegally and went inside. The first thing I noticed was a big sign by the entrances that said "Voting time limited to three minutes" or something along those lines. Can they do that? Is that constitutional? Granted, it's just the primaries, where in PA, you only vote within your party and most candidates run unopposed. But there are some cases where you have to pick seven candidates out of about a dozen and three have to be men and three have to be women and one could be either. This requires some thought and some reading of names and where the candidates are from. I don't like to feel the pressure. And what if I had a learning disability or some other reason that would make it difficult for me to complete the ballot in time. Even though it didn't seem like they were really enforcing this three minute rule, it just didn't sit well with me.
Then, when I handed them my ID to find my name in the book, the old ladies working the polls went apeshit because I neglected to hand them my change of address. I thought they only needed to check my name and photo. So then, I handed them the change of address slip that I carry with me and this only confused them more. "So it's wrong in the book but right on your license?" No...that's what the change of address card is for.
They were also fairly indignant when they announced to the other polling people that I'm a Democrat.
I'm really starting to wonder if there is any place in this world where I fit in...
Sunday, May 14, 2006
The Good, The Bad, The Ugly - Vegas and Beyond
Hey kids! It's been a while since I've blogged. The end of the semester had me uber busy. Then I took off for Vegas and a road trip through Arizona and Utah for the last week. Now I'm back and here to share the gory details. I must warn you that this will be long and filled with sweeping generalizations. My apologies in advance to those of you who may be the exceptions. And as for the rest of you well, fuck off.
I'd love to give you all the play by play, but you could not possibly be that interested in my obsession with avocados. So here are the good, the bad and the ugly parts for my trip.
THE GOOD
I know I'm stretching here. But I don't want to come off as a total piss ass.
The MGM Casino - I told you I was stretching here. Its probably my favorite because I heard the Pixies while I was there. After all the shit that went down (read on), it was comforting to hear the first three chords of "Monkey Gone to Heaven." I also enjoyed Wolfgang Pucks. And I'm usually not one for nicer restaurants because they make me feel awkward. They have lions on display and we got to see two lion cubs sleeping. I was even up for a little while playing video blackjack, annoying Paul after he was long out of money when I told him that I rarely pay attention to what the dealer has.
Gourmet Ice at the Bellagio - It's so good that after a four mile walk, I walked even more out of my way just to get one. Very tasty and refreshing!
Flyleaf rocked - I've seen them before, but this time was even better because I was closer to the stage and could actually see them. Their stage presence is awesome. They boucne around a lot and have good energy. I also know more of their music this time because Paul bought their CD a few weeks ago and has been playing it incessantly.
Tom Jones was not so bad either - Tom Jones was a bit of a novelty to me and a couple of my friends a few years ago. And going to Vegas, I had to go see some big cheesy show. I would have preferred Barry Manilow (I love him for realz, y'all), but unfortunately, he was off this week. And this was the only week I could go on vacation because of my school schedule and Paul's work schedule. Anyway, Tom Jones is an old effeminate Welsh guy who sang his goofy songs along with a few covers like "We've Got Tonight" and "Mama Told Me Not to Come," which really reminded me of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. I think he's doing his keyboard player. During "Delilah," a 75 year old woman threw a lacy red thong up on stage. Very wild. We sat front row (my knees were actually resting against the stage) with nice people from Kansas who were seeing Tom for the 48th time (no joke). I felt way too young to be there, but I had a great time.
Midori Margaritas at the Mexican place in New York, New York - Well, you had to expect that anything with the words "Midori" and "margarita" would make my list.
The Double Down Saloon - It's been called a local hangout, but most of the travel guides that I have mention it. Hmmmm...Anyway, this was a punk bar. Very cool. We met a band from Philly there called Jukebox Heroes and they had Richard Cheese on their jukebox.
Spa suite at the Luxor - I'm a firm believer that you're not supposed to enjoy your hotel room more than the city you're visiting. But I did. I would have had a better time holed up their for that portion of the trip.
Radio ads for midget strippers and drug paraphernalia - Only in Vegas.
Arizona - I loved Flagstaff. Did you know that you can get the New York Times there? And some people think you can't get it in Tamaqua (yes, Im still bitter about that). Anyway, the Grand Canyon was pretty. The drive there was, too. And for most of that drive we were listening to an alternative radio station that really made me sad that the eastern part of PA does not have one. The University of Northern Arizona was cool, but there were people driving on the sidewalks.
Utah - The most important thing to know about Utah is that I loved Zion National Park. It made me want to hike! Me! The girl who is allergic to daylight who has sprained both of her ankles on numerous occassions and is also known as the walking bug buffet. There were all these trails that you could take and we didn't have enough time to do them all. That part, I would gladly visit again. We also saw Arches National Park, Bryce Canyon National Park and Capitol Reef National Park as well. They were also very pretty, although a killer canary went right for Paul's head at Bryce Canton, barely missing him by eight feet. It's a good thing he ducked. Utah also sells something called Polygamy Porter with the slogan "Why have just one?" Loved it!
THE BAD
Losing sucks - There really wasn't even a point where I was ahead in my gambling. And overall, I lost pretty much all that I had budgeted for gambling. It sucked! I tried sports betting and came close to winning. I got two out of three right on my three team baseball parlay. So, I'd like to take this moment to send out an extra special "fuck you" to the Texas Rangers for screwing that up for me.
The view from the Stratosphere - No matter how high the view is, Vegas is still a dump.
People don't leave you the fuck alone - Seriously, did that lady really need to stop me in the middle of my video blackjack game just to tell me that the souvenir glass I was drinking from should not go in the dishwasher? Did the people at the Stratosphere really need to take my picture twice for one of those goofy green screen fake pictures before I went to the top, only to tell me that I was going to blend into the background because I was wearing green?
Its really fucking hot there - Look, I'm all for warm. I loved San Diego's weather. But 105 degrees in May is too much. "But, Chrissy, its a dry heat!" Yeah, so is the heat in my oven, but I don't crawl in there for fun. Plus, I'm a firm believer that 90he population looks better with clothes on. Ladies, just because low rise jeans are cool, that does not mean that you look good in them. Lets not kid ourselves. Cover that shit up.
I cut myself shaving - And I dont mean my ankle.
People are dumb and slow - And they stop right in front of you to look around. If you did that in New York, you'd get your wallet stolen. They don't walk on people movers or escalators. So, its actually faster not to take them. Everything is slow. Maybe I'm just the most east coastiest girl ever because I walk fast, talk fast and have little patience for, well, anything. This is a city. Things should move at the city rate.
THE UGLY
Guys from LA who think they are Vince Vaughn's character in Swingers - So were waiting for the inclinator at the Luxor and two of them come down at about the same time. We were in a hurry to get to the Flyleaf show and I wanted to run to the room to change into more comfortable shoes. A group of three thritysomething aged men were waiting for the inclinator, too. We went into one. They went into the other. The inclinator required a key. I put mine in, punched the button for my floor and the door closed. Five seconds later, it opened again and all the three guys got in. They push the button for their floor, but it didnt light up. Why? Because the moron didnt use his key. So he pushes the button again and then puts in his key and says, "See! Its broken!"
I moved over and said, "No, it worked just fine until you got in here." I put my key in, pushed my floor button and his, while the other two imbeciles said, "Oooh! Whoa!" Paul told them to settle down.
The moron starts to say, "Hey, were all guests at the same hotel, here."
"But we were in a bit of a hurry and youre holding us up," I said.
"Well, thats not our problem," Dick #2 said.
And I said, "Well, its not my problem that youre friend is too big of a fuckin' moron to know how to use an elevator. He fucked up the other one and now he's here wasting my time."
Dick #3 said, "It's broken. Do we look like maintenance?"
I bit my tongue because I had a thousand answers to that question. But I decided to drop it. However, they didn't want to drop it.
"I take it you guys are from the east coast," said Dick #2. I nodded. "Thats so sad," he offered.
"Well, Im sorry. We have lives. We have things to do and we get a lot more done than you guys ever will." I couldnt stop myself.
"I doubt it," said Dick #2.
"You know, you're right. Were always being held up my morons who are so stupid they don't even know how to work an elevator," I shot back.
At that point, we were at our floor.
"Have a nice night," Dick #1 said to Paul. "Although I doubt you will with her."
"Yeah, she needs to get laid," said Dick #3, which lead to a big Fuck you battle.
I took their advice, but the city still sucked and it didnt make any morons or assholes go away. And I would bet if they took their own advice, they would have to pay for it in one way or another. Ugly, arrogant and stupid will not get you chicks.
This leads me to my next point.
Vegas caters to the lowest common denominator - This whole concept of what happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas really attracts the biggest pieces of shit in the coutry. People drive like dicks, think they're much prettier than they really are and are so fucking full of themselves and arrogant that I would love to see the entire city just go up in flames. The same people from California are never in a hurry to do anything until they get behind the wheels of their cars. Then, they'd run over their grandma if she got in their way. A guy in the parking garage made a turn at about 50 mph, nearly hitting us, looked at us all cocky with his sunglasses on and his bad rap music blaring and I could barely keep myself from screaming, "Dude, you're driving a Buick!" When we rolled back into town after our excursion, we were treated to snotty service at, get this, The Best Western! Dude, at best this place is worth 2 and a half stars. You're in no position to be a snob. People think everything is so ritzy and glamorous when really, unless your last name is Hilton, you are a nobody. The only thing you have in common with a Hilton is that you are both inconsequential to society. Now I know why Hunter S. Thompson was tripping on mescaline at Circus Circus. It's the only thing that would make it bearable.
And nothing is original - The casinos are all copied from something else. I've been to the real Paris and the real Eiffle tower (and it cost less to go there, too, I might add). It's nothing like Vegas. I've been to New York and it's not like the casino. Why dress it up and give it a theme for something that already exists and is a 1,000 times better? Even that Gourmet Ice that I loved so much is nothing more than a cherry slushy. The only part of the city that I thought was a little close to cool was Fremont Street. But even that seemed to be loaded with white trash.
Lee Greenwood ruined the Bellagio fountain show for me - After seeing the fountain show the first time, I would have put it in "The Good" section. But the second time I saw it, they played that "Proud to be an American" bullshit that made me want to defect to Canada. I looked around. If I was supposed to be proud to be included in the hoards of the dregs of society in that city surrounding me, then I guess I'm not a very good American. I don't want to be one of those people.
When we got back to the Philly airport, which I also despise (another blog for another day), I stopped to ask a man where the baggage claim was for Southwest Airlines. He rolled his eyes at me. Apparently, I was not the first to ask him that question. He said, "It's in the next terminal. And do your fellow passengers a favor and go back upstairs and tell someone at that desk that they need to put up a sign..."
I cut him off. "I don't work here, buddy."
I guess we all get our turn to be the asshole. Welcome back to the east coast.
I'd love to give you all the play by play, but you could not possibly be that interested in my obsession with avocados. So here are the good, the bad and the ugly parts for my trip.
THE GOOD
I know I'm stretching here. But I don't want to come off as a total piss ass.
The MGM Casino - I told you I was stretching here. Its probably my favorite because I heard the Pixies while I was there. After all the shit that went down (read on), it was comforting to hear the first three chords of "Monkey Gone to Heaven." I also enjoyed Wolfgang Pucks. And I'm usually not one for nicer restaurants because they make me feel awkward. They have lions on display and we got to see two lion cubs sleeping. I was even up for a little while playing video blackjack, annoying Paul after he was long out of money when I told him that I rarely pay attention to what the dealer has.
Gourmet Ice at the Bellagio - It's so good that after a four mile walk, I walked even more out of my way just to get one. Very tasty and refreshing!
Flyleaf rocked - I've seen them before, but this time was even better because I was closer to the stage and could actually see them. Their stage presence is awesome. They boucne around a lot and have good energy. I also know more of their music this time because Paul bought their CD a few weeks ago and has been playing it incessantly.
Tom Jones was not so bad either - Tom Jones was a bit of a novelty to me and a couple of my friends a few years ago. And going to Vegas, I had to go see some big cheesy show. I would have preferred Barry Manilow (I love him for realz, y'all), but unfortunately, he was off this week. And this was the only week I could go on vacation because of my school schedule and Paul's work schedule. Anyway, Tom Jones is an old effeminate Welsh guy who sang his goofy songs along with a few covers like "We've Got Tonight" and "Mama Told Me Not to Come," which really reminded me of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. I think he's doing his keyboard player. During "Delilah," a 75 year old woman threw a lacy red thong up on stage. Very wild. We sat front row (my knees were actually resting against the stage) with nice people from Kansas who were seeing Tom for the 48th time (no joke). I felt way too young to be there, but I had a great time.
Midori Margaritas at the Mexican place in New York, New York - Well, you had to expect that anything with the words "Midori" and "margarita" would make my list.
The Double Down Saloon - It's been called a local hangout, but most of the travel guides that I have mention it. Hmmmm...Anyway, this was a punk bar. Very cool. We met a band from Philly there called Jukebox Heroes and they had Richard Cheese on their jukebox.
Spa suite at the Luxor - I'm a firm believer that you're not supposed to enjoy your hotel room more than the city you're visiting. But I did. I would have had a better time holed up their for that portion of the trip.
Radio ads for midget strippers and drug paraphernalia - Only in Vegas.
Arizona - I loved Flagstaff. Did you know that you can get the New York Times there? And some people think you can't get it in Tamaqua (yes, Im still bitter about that). Anyway, the Grand Canyon was pretty. The drive there was, too. And for most of that drive we were listening to an alternative radio station that really made me sad that the eastern part of PA does not have one. The University of Northern Arizona was cool, but there were people driving on the sidewalks.
Utah - The most important thing to know about Utah is that I loved Zion National Park. It made me want to hike! Me! The girl who is allergic to daylight who has sprained both of her ankles on numerous occassions and is also known as the walking bug buffet. There were all these trails that you could take and we didn't have enough time to do them all. That part, I would gladly visit again. We also saw Arches National Park, Bryce Canyon National Park and Capitol Reef National Park as well. They were also very pretty, although a killer canary went right for Paul's head at Bryce Canton, barely missing him by eight feet. It's a good thing he ducked. Utah also sells something called Polygamy Porter with the slogan "Why have just one?" Loved it!
THE BAD
Losing sucks - There really wasn't even a point where I was ahead in my gambling. And overall, I lost pretty much all that I had budgeted for gambling. It sucked! I tried sports betting and came close to winning. I got two out of three right on my three team baseball parlay. So, I'd like to take this moment to send out an extra special "fuck you" to the Texas Rangers for screwing that up for me.
The view from the Stratosphere - No matter how high the view is, Vegas is still a dump.
People don't leave you the fuck alone - Seriously, did that lady really need to stop me in the middle of my video blackjack game just to tell me that the souvenir glass I was drinking from should not go in the dishwasher? Did the people at the Stratosphere really need to take my picture twice for one of those goofy green screen fake pictures before I went to the top, only to tell me that I was going to blend into the background because I was wearing green?
Its really fucking hot there - Look, I'm all for warm. I loved San Diego's weather. But 105 degrees in May is too much. "But, Chrissy, its a dry heat!" Yeah, so is the heat in my oven, but I don't crawl in there for fun. Plus, I'm a firm believer that 90he population looks better with clothes on. Ladies, just because low rise jeans are cool, that does not mean that you look good in them. Lets not kid ourselves. Cover that shit up.
I cut myself shaving - And I dont mean my ankle.
People are dumb and slow - And they stop right in front of you to look around. If you did that in New York, you'd get your wallet stolen. They don't walk on people movers or escalators. So, its actually faster not to take them. Everything is slow. Maybe I'm just the most east coastiest girl ever because I walk fast, talk fast and have little patience for, well, anything. This is a city. Things should move at the city rate.
THE UGLY
Guys from LA who think they are Vince Vaughn's character in Swingers - So were waiting for the inclinator at the Luxor and two of them come down at about the same time. We were in a hurry to get to the Flyleaf show and I wanted to run to the room to change into more comfortable shoes. A group of three thritysomething aged men were waiting for the inclinator, too. We went into one. They went into the other. The inclinator required a key. I put mine in, punched the button for my floor and the door closed. Five seconds later, it opened again and all the three guys got in. They push the button for their floor, but it didnt light up. Why? Because the moron didnt use his key. So he pushes the button again and then puts in his key and says, "See! Its broken!"
I moved over and said, "No, it worked just fine until you got in here." I put my key in, pushed my floor button and his, while the other two imbeciles said, "Oooh! Whoa!" Paul told them to settle down.
The moron starts to say, "Hey, were all guests at the same hotel, here."
"But we were in a bit of a hurry and youre holding us up," I said.
"Well, thats not our problem," Dick #2 said.
And I said, "Well, its not my problem that youre friend is too big of a fuckin' moron to know how to use an elevator. He fucked up the other one and now he's here wasting my time."
Dick #3 said, "It's broken. Do we look like maintenance?"
I bit my tongue because I had a thousand answers to that question. But I decided to drop it. However, they didn't want to drop it.
"I take it you guys are from the east coast," said Dick #2. I nodded. "Thats so sad," he offered.
"Well, Im sorry. We have lives. We have things to do and we get a lot more done than you guys ever will." I couldnt stop myself.
"I doubt it," said Dick #2.
"You know, you're right. Were always being held up my morons who are so stupid they don't even know how to work an elevator," I shot back.
At that point, we were at our floor.
"Have a nice night," Dick #1 said to Paul. "Although I doubt you will with her."
"Yeah, she needs to get laid," said Dick #3, which lead to a big Fuck you battle.
I took their advice, but the city still sucked and it didnt make any morons or assholes go away. And I would bet if they took their own advice, they would have to pay for it in one way or another. Ugly, arrogant and stupid will not get you chicks.
This leads me to my next point.
Vegas caters to the lowest common denominator - This whole concept of what happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas really attracts the biggest pieces of shit in the coutry. People drive like dicks, think they're much prettier than they really are and are so fucking full of themselves and arrogant that I would love to see the entire city just go up in flames. The same people from California are never in a hurry to do anything until they get behind the wheels of their cars. Then, they'd run over their grandma if she got in their way. A guy in the parking garage made a turn at about 50 mph, nearly hitting us, looked at us all cocky with his sunglasses on and his bad rap music blaring and I could barely keep myself from screaming, "Dude, you're driving a Buick!" When we rolled back into town after our excursion, we were treated to snotty service at, get this, The Best Western! Dude, at best this place is worth 2 and a half stars. You're in no position to be a snob. People think everything is so ritzy and glamorous when really, unless your last name is Hilton, you are a nobody. The only thing you have in common with a Hilton is that you are both inconsequential to society. Now I know why Hunter S. Thompson was tripping on mescaline at Circus Circus. It's the only thing that would make it bearable.
And nothing is original - The casinos are all copied from something else. I've been to the real Paris and the real Eiffle tower (and it cost less to go there, too, I might add). It's nothing like Vegas. I've been to New York and it's not like the casino. Why dress it up and give it a theme for something that already exists and is a 1,000 times better? Even that Gourmet Ice that I loved so much is nothing more than a cherry slushy. The only part of the city that I thought was a little close to cool was Fremont Street. But even that seemed to be loaded with white trash.
Lee Greenwood ruined the Bellagio fountain show for me - After seeing the fountain show the first time, I would have put it in "The Good" section. But the second time I saw it, they played that "Proud to be an American" bullshit that made me want to defect to Canada. I looked around. If I was supposed to be proud to be included in the hoards of the dregs of society in that city surrounding me, then I guess I'm not a very good American. I don't want to be one of those people.
When we got back to the Philly airport, which I also despise (another blog for another day), I stopped to ask a man where the baggage claim was for Southwest Airlines. He rolled his eyes at me. Apparently, I was not the first to ask him that question. He said, "It's in the next terminal. And do your fellow passengers a favor and go back upstairs and tell someone at that desk that they need to put up a sign..."
I cut him off. "I don't work here, buddy."
I guess we all get our turn to be the asshole. Welcome back to the east coast.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
