one thing i did want to say today was a HUMONGOUS happy birthday to miss leanne. (seriously dude, i wish you a GIGANTIC happy birthday. i am delirious with exhaustion so i don't know what i'm saying. but i'm sure you understand.) funniest picture available will appear in this space tomorrow.

win the daily show couch.

nypd on segways?! [via gothamist]

i sure wonder what would happen if rhett miller and karen o hung out.

i am off tomorrow. great adventures are planned. fun-filled update on friday.

i enjoyed TMFTML's imagining of some ripoffs of "Queer Eye for the Straight Guy" (which my gay roommate, who has a really big toolbox, cannot watch without repeatedly rolling his eyes and getting visibly angry), especially:

Straight Eye for the Queer Guy: "Dude, nobody needs three different kinds of moisturizer. And most of this lycra has to go."

"it would be far-fetched to argue that the Fuck family has not made its way into mainstream society." ha! from a legal brief in defense of a teenager who called his principal "a fucker, a fag, and a fucking fag." some lawyer had a lot of fun writing this one. [via the morning news]

werde reports that bride's magazine has just gotten around to covering same-sex weddings. while we're on the subject, readers, does anybody have any ideas for what to do for a lesbian bachelorette party? especially in new york.... please please please email me with any suggestions for burlesque/club nights, or anything that might work.

it has come to my attention that some of you just recently became aware of the tinkle booze cruise! what the fuck is this? do you not pay attention to the pita? the pita is here for you. do not underestimate it. and since i did not make myself clear before, do not even think about missing the tinkle booze cruise, for there will be david cross and his comedian cronies, the life-affirming musical stylings of les savy fav, and four hours of free (for $60) liquor. also catherine's pita will be there. what more do you need?

looks like the pentagon decided it wasn't such a hot idea to take bets on future terrorist attacks, assassinations, and coups. how the hell did the bushies approve $8 mill for this thing??

two sets of fun photos from the studio sessions for gbv's "earthquake glue."

friday night was the dismemberment plan's last stand. it was all-request night, civilized style: people raised their hands and travis called on them, which made it extra-weird that they didn't play the popular (and poppy) favorite "back and forth." it was a good show, though i can't say i was exactly blown out of the water. the crowd was excellent, the band was tight as ever, but i was sort of hoping for something spectacular, some writhing on the floor, maybe. but not really. i've seen them probably upwards of 10 times so i sort of know what to expect. i bought a t-shirt, with a cute but sad little picture of the last slice of cake with a letter-P candle on it, the L and A and N candles having fallen off onto the platter. here are some excellent tour photos from a photographer traveling with the band on this last leg. in this interview, travis suggests they might continue to play about one reunion show a year.

a reader informs me that the rat-with-umbrella stencil is by banksy, who also apparently does graffiti on live cows sometimes.

here are some cool live shots of my morning jacket.

spoon at castle clinton: great, though the keyboards were criminally low in the mix. they played all my favorites. one guy danced somewhat freakishly. it took the audience a good three or four songs to spring up from the seats, wavelike. britt liked that. tamar and i discussed his desirable torso and humorous but forgivable rock-star shades on the subway ride home. then we did a little dance when we discovered that local 138 is reopening tonight, as local 138! we fervently hope its coolness remains intact.

holy crap: 8000 words on colleen haskell, the cute girl from the first survivor. note: there is no way you will read this whole article. absolutely no chance. [via balgavy]

had a very nice late lunch break just now, getting my first manhattan library card and picking up a book of bizarro stories by george saunders and a weirdo novel by jonathan lethem for sunday beach reading. then i ate some low-fat cherry garcia in bryant park, because it seemed like a better option than a frappuccino.

vh1's list of 200 pop culture icons is appalling, of course. kurt was outraged. i excerpt for you here a small fraction of that outrage:

Kurt: #12 Beatles
Kurt: #11 Cast of Friends!!!!!!!!!
Kurt: Britney Spears and J-LO both are placed ahead of #21 The Simpsons
Kurt: JFK Jr. (#24) is apparently of more pop importance than his father JFK (#32)
Cat: oh my god
Kurt: Mary Tyler Moore, Bill Cosby, James Dean and Frank Sinatra!!!!!!!! ALL BEAT BY J-LO!!!!!!!!!!!!
Cat: truly an attack on democracy
Kurt: #61 Mike Myers #64 Celine Dion!!!
Kurt: #146 Neil Armstrong!
Kurt: Oh here is one of the biggest slaps in the face
Kurt: #112 Justin Timberlake
Cat: they do this on purpose
Kurt: Guess who is #113
Cat: who
Kurt: Alfred Hitchcock
Cat: OH SNAP
Kurt: you know, Micky Mouse is number 17
Kurt: and i am quite sure that MICKY MOUSE is one of the most recognized symbols in the world
Kurt: more so than Jerry Seinfeld
Kurt: at number 13!!!

don't you want to buy these cute bow-tie ballet flats from me? i am heartbroken that they are too small for me. meanwhile, sara is selling a cowboy hat...for cats. check it out.

pulpypants points out that some very weird things are being said about the city hall shooting. it was obviously just a crazy person.

recommended viewing: urban legend. i watched this last night on cable in its entirety. the sassy black lady from "boston public" is the cop, and every five minutes, a new teen c-lister pops up (noxzema girl! jared leto! tara reid, fat!). it's quite funny. and scary! no joke!

a guy calling himself "hasidic rebel" has a blog. he has a very interesting, open-minded perspective on the hasidic community, which is closed to outsiders. there was a story about it in the village voice. [thanks randi]

excerpt of new jonathan lethem novel (and interview). [via bookslut]

i kind of want a t-shirt with a random friendster profile on it.

totally weird and wonderful GBV news: in the tradition of willie wonka, 25 of the first 20,000+ copies of "Earthquake Glue" on CD will contain a Golden Ticket, which will entitle the winner to a free copy of the GBV Box Set - Hardcore UFOs - to be released in the fall. word is said box set (wooh!) will include:

one disc live material
one disc unreleased material and demos
one disc Matador B-sides and EPs
one disc Greatest Hits, chosen by Bob
one disc "Forever Since Breakfast"
one DVD of "Watch Me Jumpstart" expanded w/ all the videos (including a "My Kind of Soldier" video) and a perfect-bound booklet.

oh my god, gawker has reel big fish on its to-do list. that is the funniest thing i've read all day.

liz phair admits she wanted to make a fool of herself with this last record. she also reveals that she does not understand the concept of the word "literally." [thanks sea of angels]

laura went to sirenfest and actually played hipster bingo. i went and didn't drink enough. (where is cormi when i need him?) saw oneida, ted leo, and radio 4 (all great); spent the rest of the time people-watching and cyclone-riding. didn't stay for modest mouse, but i heard the main stage was unbearable anyway (no surprise there). divestar and jinners go up front so you don't have to.

now i have an excuse to go see 28 days later again: 28 days after its release, there's an alternate ending.

mmm, tobey.

good article asks, why coldplay and not idlewild? apparently capitol didn't feel like spending the money necessary to get airplay for a single. (my answer would've been they're too punk, though personally i thought "the remote part" was a bit too bland and, um, pussified.)

one thing that werde and i agree on: northern state suck. pitchfork's review is excellent and on the money: "Northern State sound like suburban brats playing with Ghetto Barbies."

people: i know what happens when you go to google, type in "weapons of mass destruction" and hit "I'm feeling lucky." i'm savvy like that. here's an article by the creator of the page (via fimoculous).

what do i buy on insound, anyone got recommendations? i must get some indie-rock trading cards. [via catchdubs]

i like this blog despite its weird name: les.Yper-sound, from a fellow 75 or less writer.

it turns out that maybe that "hunting for bambi" thing is not real.

oh my.

man severs, cooks and eats own penis. [via betsy]

this morning i woke to the sight of the Well, You Are Not As Hot As You Once Were, But You Still Make Me All Nervous And Giggly Construction Boy Architect outside my window. i was then able to stalk him from within my own home: how convenient! i learned recently from my hardware-store buddy that he is married. lordie! he can't be a day over 26, and according to my source, he's been with the same girl for 10 years. that is tragic. i think he needs me. don't you?

overly zealous defense of web journalists from the black table, which declares itself "the future of journalism." um...yeah. [via the modern age]

interesting story about wannabe amputees. i wonder how many of these folks have read geek love. [via the mornnig news]

gideon yago interviews jack osbourne. now we know what drugs jack was on: oxycontin and a host of other pills. looks like he's found god in the aftermath. [via hip clicks]

more hilarity from catbirdseat: hipster bingo. [via the rub]

from the men-are-evil department: some men like to hunt naked women with paintball guns.

and finally, betsy what's-her-face has a brand-new domain: it's by jane doe; she hopes to retain her anonymity (good luck dude).

i had a nice long-seeming, fun-packed weekend. went to the beach yesterday; it was gorgeous. swam in the ocean (sans jellyfish), spit cherry pits into the sand, etc. also saw a somewhat ridiculous number of shows. the rundown, for those of you who care:

¥ fountains of wayne, thursday night. flawless power pop. hits galore. cute singer (in ringer tee) brought out videocam and made the audience say hi to his mom on camera. awww. i purchased a cute bubble-lettered FoW t-shirt. randi spotted the giant.
¥ the gossip, friday night. disaster: after drinking too many pina coladas on holly's deck, we got there late. heard four songs and then it was, "thank you, good night!" and thank you, lady on the phone at maxwell's, for providing me with incorrect information! i purchased a t-shirt in an attempt to get something out of the show (though i think those four songs did rock).
¥ sightings, tussle, broke revue, saturday afternoon. tamar and i arrived at junkyard, identifiable by the horrific noise emanating from behind the gates and the crowd of hipster trash loitering outside (some of whom were drinking wine coolers). no actual junk in sight, but there were live chickens running around, amusing and scaring everybody. tussle were cool, up to a point, then their lyricless dancey groove got kinda monotonous. broke revue were good but we were ready to go at that point and decided to walk back over the williamsburg bridge. beautiful! plus i saw one of my favorite rock stars (oh, just guess) riding his bike past us. wearing a helmet! how cute.
¥ the new pornographers, saturday night. amazingly, they decided to play the setlist helpfully provided by a devoted fan: "it's arguably a pretty decent setlist." the drummer was incredulous: "are we really playing that fuckin' setlist?" yup, with a couple additions. all the hits were played, and then some. very fun. neko was in a fabulous fashion-y shirt (and baggy pants), having succumbed to the when-in-rome dictum. she was more serious than usual. randi declared carl newman "the opposite of a rock star." opener lonesome organist, a one-man band (who tap-danced for percussion for one song), was impressive for the two songs we saw, too.

in other news, i am still walking around with duct tape on my foot to make sure the band-aid stays there. i stepped on an electrical plug last week and still have a pretty deep slice in my foot. it feels better with duct tape. duct tape is also good for warts, you know.

i'm sure eileen will set me straight, but i think windmills in the ocean is an incredibly cool and even aesthetically pleasing idea. i was mesmerized by the windmills on the drive from san francisco to l.a. i did with leanne a couple years ago.

gawker gives an email interview to the black table. most revolting quote: "gawker has its own brand now."

if anyone has any information about why (why?!) a baseball player would want to attack an italian sausage mascot, please do pass it along. here's the hilarious video. thanks to cormipants for that one.

is there anybody out there who hasn't seen the hulk doll's monster willy? right, didn't think so.

"And then he saw the flies intermittently coming out of his penis." i have not the words. thanks to stu for that choice link.

welcome to the blogosphere. now please stop using the word "blogosphere."

pot does NOT make you stupid. [via hard glitter]

photos of people with their ipods, via miss modernage, and photos of people dressed alike, via miss knee.

some pranksters turned the astor place cube into a giant rubik's cube. [via gawker]

finally, we have some east coast gbv dates! because i have suffered horribly through a yearlong drought of live gbv, i am going to hit up both the nyc show and the philadelphia date, which is a 10th-anniversary party for magnet and also features the awesome bands my morning jacket and the shins.

here is a crazy lyric quiz in excel. i got like 12 percent. brought to you by no rock and roll fun.

so elyse got booted from america's next top model because she was too snotty. too bad. she should not have gone off about the estrogen thing, but it was pretty funny so i'm glad she did. i was happy for adrianne; i'd probably prefer to hang out with her in real life. i hesitate to admit that i even teared up when her smoky-eyed, larger-than-life face was revealed at the end of the show. you still have to love elyse, though: in this interview, she says: "If I don't win, I hope that all the money, fame, and acclaim of the title 'America's Next Top Model' will go to Robin. In that case, humanity would finally have incontrovertible evidence that there is no God."

all about ice cream in new york.

so my fourth didn't turn out exactly as planned. i did go see ryan adams in the park (fun, hot, maybe not his best show but whatever), but then i could not get anybody to go with me to the party/show on the roof of the sugar factory. nobody! (i felt the lack of jami quite strongly.) luckily kurt was having people over, one of whom had been slaving over a very hot stove to make a lovely paella teeming with seafood and crisp peas. there was also sangria, white wine with strawberries, and chocolate chip cookies. people started arriving and went up to the roof (now equipped with plastic chairs). it came to my attention that vanessa v. had boldly already gone up to the top of the surface hotel by herself, so i interrogated her about that for a while. we decided to go up there for the fireworks, since i knew from past experience that our view from our roof would be blocked.

so we went! up to the 18th floor of the shell of the surface hotel! it was a workout getting up the concrete stairs, but we made it. on the 17th floor we encountered some men sitting around in the dark on folding chairs who called out "hello?" but after a moment of confusion, we simply scurried up the stairs to 18, where we waited, quivering, on the balcony. they didn't come after us; i guess they just figured we were up there for the same reason they were. anyway, it was the best fireworks experience ever. you could see and hear so much. the city laid out before us, we could see tiny fireworks on each horizon, new jersey to the left, brooklyn to the right. and there were people on roofs all around us, whooping and whistling and shooting off their own fireworks. we stayed very quiet, not wanting to draw attention to our presence. it was me, vanessa v., and this girl katie, a friend of a friend of kurt's. when it was over we ran down those stairs as fast as we could, right down to the fifth floor, where we clambered out the huge window and onto the catwalk that hangs a couple feet above my building's roof. so easy.

i spent the rest of the weekend baking in the sun by the pool at my dad's. i am sort of a pinky tan as a result.

mike c. (aka brooklyn kid) just launched meccapixel. looks very, very nice.

america gets its picture on the pita. it's the birthday policy.

ha, great quote in this story about tonight's fireworks display: "people would shoot us if we didn't do the happy faces."

-the fever, pink on pink
-the high strung, these are good times
-ex models, zoo psychology
-bad wizard, sophisticated mouth
-kings of leon, holy roller novocaine
-kool keith, black elvis/lost in space
-radiohead, hail to the thief

then i wandered home for a delicious snack of hazelnut iced coffee and strawberries with sherbet, which i ate while watching the end of a tori spelling movie on lifetime (intercut with a special on the olsen twins) with kurt. now i am just hanging out in my room, listening to all my new cds and waiting for it to be time to go to the movies. again, half-day thursdays rule.

there will probably not be any updates over the next three days. tomorrow i will go to battery park with all the other losers who have nothing better to do and listen to ryan adams. when that is over i will drag my posse to the sugar factory roof party in williamsburg with all the bands. there we will ooh and aah and eeh at the fireworks. fred is having a roof party too. i will go drink his beer at some undetermined point in the evening. maybe. fred will just have to wait and see. i am tired of cataloguing the future for you so i will sign off now. see you next week; have a safe and happy fourth of july.

i've been told i need to shut up about liz phair, and so i will, but first let me tell you what i actually think about it. after having listened to it a few times (downloaded from a friend because there is no way i'll buy it), i have scientifically determined that approximately 60 percent of it is horrifying schlock that makes my stomach turn, 30 percent is bland, boring filler, and 10 percent is kinda decent. (i like "little digger" and "it's sweet.") i suspect that what slate says about it numbing the listener's resistance is true, so i am not going to listen to it anymore. liz phair is no longer whip-smart, she is unapologetically, extraordinarily dumb. i don't want this liz phair. and i kinda hope this is the worst-selling album of her career. but in the meantime, i will simply pretend this album doesn't exist, as i'm sure liz will want to do, once she gets some professional help. and i don't mean the matrix.

everyone should see the video for the foo fighters' "low," with dave grohl and jack black arriving at some seedy motel, getting drunk, and spanking each other. seriously a must-see. i think it was slatch who told me about it (natch).

looks like the walkmen are going to play at pier 54 in august. i wonder who else will play.

i also want to catch broken social scene (listen) and the natural history open for pretty girls make graves next thursday at the pier (that shit starts early). it's kind of going to be a sick night for music. at 9 i'll be at pianos (finally a website!) for the hold steady, and after that it's fountains of wayne at irving. three shows in one night, that might be a record.

scott, the very talented designer of catherine's pita, is in need of a job. someone help him out!

human torso and hand found in suitcase on LES.

finally, a hearty happy birthday to DAD, who has achieved, in his words, a degree of "ancientry" never before thought possible.