...randomness surrounding Guided by Voices, Robert Pollard, and other great indie rock bands; a quasi objective look at "my" sporting teams; the random horror film; plus other crap as we see fit...all with a Pittsburgh based feel.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Excuse me, Sir. Is that a Lobster in your Pants?

Jimmy’s 47th Birthday in Baltimore Extravaganza got started at Legal Seafoods, located in the Inner Harbor just blocks from Camden Yards. Some dude who looked like Notorious B.I.G. (Jimmy…what was that guy’s name??), and suckled on a foot long cigar while it was still in the plastic wrapper, gave us the recommendation. I was sold.

After a few apps, some chowder, and tasty beverages, it was time for some lobster.

WAITER: “Are you ready to order?”

ME (menu closed): “Absolutely. Set the two of us (Jimmy & I) up with some lobster, whatever you recommend. This bean bag (referring to Bucky) only eats red meat.”

WAITER: “Well, for the both of you, perhaps 8 to 10…”

JIMMY: “Sounds good Chief. Make it the 10.”

WAITER: “Would you like it de-shelled?”

ME: “You got it there, Chief.”

So, we donned the butter bibs, and commenced burying our faces into this mammoth bowl of lobster. Meanwhile, Bucky nibbled on his junior bacon cheeseburger. Half hour later, the bowl is still half full.

JIMMY (grabbing waiter): “Excuse me, chiefy. Did you say this was 10 ounces or 10 pounds?”

WAITER (without batting an eye): “10 pounds.”

So in true humanitarian make-things-right Jimmy style, he gave the wait staff the leftovers, which had to be at least 5-6 pounds of meat.

Thanks for dinner, Jimmy!!!!!

Seriously though. How in the world does someone think 10 pounds of lobster is appropriate for 2 dudes?!?!

Needless to say, we weren’t up for peanuts or Crackerjacks at the Orioles game, which followed immediately. Camden Yards is beautiful, and the seats were great. I mean…nothing says good times like sitting next to two dudes who heckle Twins 3-bagger Nick Punto the entire game.

Oh...and after the game, I joined forces with the "Free the Birds" coalition, whose soul purpose is to oust Baltimore Oriole owner Peter Angelos. I think they liked my enthusiasm. And I'm not quite sure what wrong this Angelos dude has done, but after giving me a free "Free The Birds" placard, I was completely down for their cause.

Hey, Hey! Ho, Ho! This Peter turd has got to Go!

Saturday was the Virgin Music Fest at Pimplico Race Track, and Jimmy made things right by getting the V.I.P. treatment. For a mere extra $100, you get to sit in a private area away from all the animals. There was top shelf booze. Oh…and these lovely red seats.

Got caught in traffic, so unfortunately, missed out on Drive-By Truckers. Got there just in time for Wolfmother’s set on the main stage…they rocked. The New Pornographers were playing without the lovely Neko Case, so that was somewhat of a buzzkill. The NPs and Carl Newman were still fun, nonetheless. Clap Your Hands Say Yeah followed (I believe the cool kids call them “The Clap”) with some groovin good tunage. Gnarls Barkley, dressed in full Roman garb, was probably more interesting than "crazy."

But the best act of the early afternoon imho was the Brazilian Girls. Not sure what it was, perhaps the booze was starting to flow by this time, but Sabina Sciubba and the whole stocking mask thing really does it for me. It was very festiv, a tad exotic, and perhaps quasi-weird at the same time. I think. I loved it.

After the Brazilian Girls, a nice little pee-break band in the Killers hit the stage, so I explored the fine facilities of the Pimplico grandstand, and grabbed our free tee-shirts (also included in the VIP package….what a deal!?!?!?). Next up, was The Who. I probably was a little too harsh with my criticism of The Who. Of course, it was cool to see Pete & Rog on stage. But the first half of their set just sounded like crap to me. OK...they're old, so I'll give them a break. Maybe I was just tired after the long day. Anyway, by the time they were done playing, I was a little more appreciative. So Kudos to The Who for attending the occasion.

The main attraction, and well worth the price of admission alone was The Flaming Lips. Even if you’re not a fan of the music, you’ve got to be a real sour-puss to not enjoy the live act. Wayne Coyne and crew put on an amazing spectacle that never fails to put a smile on this here face. Confetti cannons, Santa suits, dancing aliens, fake blood, the whacked out video montages, the interactive crowd stuff. It all makes me wanna sing and give hugs.

The set was pretty much typical for a Lips show, complete with your hits from Yoshimi, a couple from The Soft Bulletin (including "Race for the Prize"), and the old school "She Don’t Use Jelly." Also got a taste of their most recent record At War With the Mystics with "The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song" (appropriately titled) and "Free Radicals" (see video below).

sidenote: be sure to check the Lips website (link above or in the sidebar) for lots of good video, including "the YYY song."

Wayne started the show by blowing up a huge bubble that engulfed him, and then crowd surfed in the bubble (see video below). Warning, only the 1st 10 seconds (of :36) are worthy seeing. The rest is jumpy b/c Bucky kept punching me in the back. It'll give you a good shot of Wayne in the bubble, though:

Perhaps the best part of the Flaming Lips set: the Red Hot Chili Peppers ran interference by playing at the exact same time on the main stage, helping to curb some attendance issues at the side stage.

Here's a rocking version of "Free Radicals." Typically, most of my live video sucks (it's shot on a Canon Powershot for chrissakes, so cut me some slack!!), however, some generous soul rated this 5 stars on You Tube (I think it's the only video anyone's ever rated of mine), and it appears to have gotten some hits. I won't hype it up, b/c I don't want you to be disappointed. But it's better than my previous stuff, I must say. That being said...still not all that great. I'm no musician, but I believe that's a double neck guitar Mr. Coyne is playing. Here t'is:

All in all, a great weekend. We learned that they're shooting the beginnings of a Die Hard 4 in Baltimore, and I've got some good footage for "Bucky, the Documentary" which I'll be finishing over the next year.

Wednesday, September 20, 2006

The Last Steeler Fiesta of the Year

What a BRUTAL effort. The 5th and final Last Steeler Fiesta of the Year brough ZERO intensity from the usual crew. I know I brought my intensity! But you people just flat out sucked. I don't like to call out my mates, and I know the whole "there's no 'I' in team" thingy, but you should all be ashamed to call yourself "fans." The picture above tells the story. The beloved Black & Gold falls at Jacksonville 9-Nil. No thanks to this fan-crew.

I said I wouldn't throw anyone under the bus, just because that's not my style. F*ck it. Under the bus they go...

  • Nick. I didn't see 1 single wave of the Terrible Towel. Did you even bring your towel? Do you even own a towel? Lost it?? That's just downright embarrasing. Smack yourself.
  • Brian. Noticed your Steeler hard hat was spending a lot of time on the table...NOT on your head. Oh, that's right. It gets a little sweaty. I forgot, sweet cakes. Do you think it gets sweaty after 60 minutes in full pads & helmet?!?! What do you think Casey Hampton's pits smell like after a full game in the trenches. I can't imagine it. But I bet it's pretty bad. To think that I actually thought you were a fan.
  • LG. Do you think Willie Parker gets to take naps on the sidelines in between offensive possessions?!?! Oh, I understand. Work. School. Insert More Lame Ass Excuses Here. WAKE UP, MISSY!!! This ain't no rest home!!
  • Dan. Dan, Dan, Dan, Dan. I passed the torch. I delegated the responsibility of the "This play is EVERYTHING" call, and you fail. You fail miserably. Dan, 2nd & 2 at the 50 yard line 4 minutes into the game does NOT require a "This play is EVERYTHING" call. You overused it, and the beloved Steelers paid the price. Your "This play is EVERYTHING" privelages have now been revoked. "This play is EVERYTHING" is a privelage, Dan. It's not a right.
  • Dave. You're a Redskins fan and you bake a cake. Ok. You & Laura get a pass.
  • Carla. 5 Teriyaki wings? No blue cheese or ranch? C'mon. You're better than that.
  • Tyler. You show up AFTER game. OK, I'm listening. I've got my ready-for-excuses headphones on.
  • And finally. My sweet, dear Jessica. One time. ONE time I ask you to handle the DJ duties. It's halftime, and the Steelers are trailing. Time to rally the troops. And instead of hearing the "Steeler Polka," we get "Mamma Mia" by Abba. I'm not even sure I know who you are anymore!?!

Well, it was a nice while it lasted. The Last Steeler Fiesta of the Year brought us 4 straight W's, the biggest of course being Superbowl XL. I know Philly transplanted A.K. is at least happy now that he won't be receiving any more e-mails.

450 wings, 23 pizzas, 5 jars of peach-mango salsa, 18 bags of chips, 1 BIG hoagie (that's "sub" for you non-yensers), and countless tasty beverages later...the run is over. It was good times, and no animals were harmed. At least from what I remember. Oh...it also inspired a commercial (which I hope to have uploaded on here sometime in the near future...confid to Brian: make that happen) as well as a new drink that's sweeping the nation (or at least Dan's household).

Confid to Dan's madre: it's equal parts(1 shot) light rum & dark rum, triple sec, V8 tropical Blend splash with a splash of cranberry. Shake. Pour. Top of with Apricot Brandy. Garnish with 2 cherries & a goofy straw. Thus, you have the End of Summer Beginning of Fall Kick Ass (I'm forgetting something here) P.S. This Drink is EVERYTHING Drink.

Here's pictures of happier times, from the 2nd installment of the "Last Steeler Fiesta of the Year." The Beloved slapped around the Bronco in the 2006 AFC Championship, and this was D-2 immediately following: