pros and cons of john kerry's top twenty vice-presidential candidates.

visiting princess to "boisterous" black diners: "you need to go back to the colonies!"

travis morrison's top 100 most-played records.

i once started a friendship by sending a ridiculously detailed email message about what i did that day. i wonder if that was an early form of blogging. here we go, the weekend report: friday night i stayed in and reconstructed my tennessee t-shirt into an off-the-shoulder number with resewn slashes on it. saturday i fed holly's cats, watched an enthralling episode of wild boyz (oh my god, who knew sloths were so cute?!), then walked over to east river park, basked in the sun by myself, and wondered why there aren't more shows at that amphitheater. it rocks.

measles mumps rubella rocked capably, although they've never quite been as great as the first time i saw them. Aa (pronounced "big a, little a") were surprisingly good for a band that is 80 percent percussion. they totally won me over with their energy. it reminded me of when me and my younger brother used to have "pan time" as little kids, banging away on pots and pans on the kitchen floor. they were banging on yankees-logo garbage cans and shit. white magic were kind of boring so i waited for stu to show up and then we wandered around the lower east side looking for fruity beverages. i stopped at home to spray myself with perfume and apply lip gloss before (quite ambitiously, i might say) journeying to brooklyn for amy's roommate's barbecue. anything for char-grilled hot dogs and homemade salsa.

then (then!) we made our way back to my house, where kurt was holding court (not cort) with a good many gay men and the women who love them. we sipped frothy blender drinks (amy strangely sticking to water) and waited for the rest of our party to arrive. and arrive they did, in pigtails and plaid shirts and extremely short dresses, and then we were off again and i was doing the "maniac" dance on essex street. the party on little matt's roof was quite happening. i spent most of it slurping papaya drinks brought by the lovely ladies of caracas and attempting to chat up an impossibly cute 24-year-old blond boy working a quirky ska-punk look. 7b followed, inexplicably.

sunday i moaned my way through the morning, then listened to shellac, the magnetic fields, the mouse, and gbv while refashioning a skirt, now a denim mini with the bottom half made of a bunch of boxer shorts sewn together. i am so DIY it hurts! sushi, sopranos, and we are through. whew!

questions the 9/11 commission maybe should have asked giuliani. [via traveler's diagram]

bloggers deserve book deals, apparently.

ted leo has demos of three songs from his next album. he plays the east river amphitheater thingamahop sometime this summer too. [thanks catbirdseat]

gbv will rock the hudson river august 19. oh that will rock. especially if i can hook up the backstage (i.e. beer) action.

a sestina by jeff tweedy. a sestina is of course a crazy old form of poetry. you knew that right? you didn't, like, have to look that up or anything did you? nah, i didn't think so. [via scott]

i must have gmail, and am offering cool stuff for trade. do any of you loyal readers wish to give me your free invite?

i'm, uh, stoked for this movie: riding giants, a documentary on surfers by the director of dogtown and z-boys.

i've definitely heard stories of people being told that photography in the subway system is illegal. seems it's an urban myth and it is totally legal to take photos on the subway, but a new proposal would prohibit it, which is of course total bullshit. [via satan's laundromat]

nighty-night y'all. have a good weekend.

i think that was the last time i go see the strokes, unless they do one of those secret shows at the mercury or something. they were fine, but unthrilling, and often sluggish. there was an absurd amount of smoke on the stage (i guess that makes you a rock star) and one too many demands that we "make some noise." you know what julian, you have 80 barely legal girls in the front row screaming your name, so just shut up and play a song already. (how many times do i have to tell you that?) concert nirvana was not reached, although i did "wooh" a lot when they played a gbv song ("a salty salute"). julian even urged the assembled to check them out -- i wonder how many silly blonde girls will go pick up "alien lanes" and go, "what the fuck is this?"

other notes: as sean lennon was playing his happy little pop, a girl asked me who it was. i told her, and she then wigged out. "ohmygod, ican'tbelieveit, areyouserious?" she says to me. she freaked so hard i suspected for a moment that she had misheard me and was perhaps unaware of the death of john lennon. then she admitted she was "kinda drunk" and i became very interested in my cellphone. also: julian announced that he was getting married, and celebrities reportedly in attendance included gideon yago, clare danes, mark mcgrath, and mos def.

watch randi rock out and hear me cackle in this retarded video i took after the show. i love video! video, i hug you!

this is what i've had in my head today: two skirts....i wear two skirts. (i really do.)

"Remain calm and tell yourself, 'You don't own me, masturbation! I'm taking my life back!' (or something of that nature). If that doesn't work, you can pursue alternatives like chewing gum, blasting John Lennon's song 'Cold Turkey,' eating chocolate or whatever helps you best (not masturbation)." [via TMFTML]

thankyougoodnight!

i decided to put up a bunch of random pictures to welcome you back. hello! absence makes the heart grow fonder, right kids? glad to see you survived without me for a couple days. sometimes i need to work on freelance stuff, and stare out the window, and i don't care about you and your needs. and i'm trying hard not to care that this update is going to be subpar despite my efforts. hold onto your hairdos, here we go:

1. there was a hold steady song ("killer parties") on the bam margera show last night! two things i love dearly, together! it was, like, really something! ha. um. okay. moving on.

2. have i mentioned that the (old) fiery furnaces record is totally brilliant? it would be way, way up there on my best-of-2003 list if i'd discovered it in 2003. also, i was initially underwhelmed by modest mouse's "good news for people who love ironic titles," but it makes me happy-sad on the subway, and i sort of love it now.

3. ooh, and the les savy fav singles collection, a project in the works since the band first formed, is 100 different kinds of great. get it or die trying, is my advice.

4. you can listen to three new old 97s tracks. the murry track, satellite, is pretty arresting in its simplicity. and amy! "won't be home no more"! [via largehearted boy]

5. i went shopping for ten hours (literally: we were shopping for ten hours) at woodbury commons on saturday. if you have the means you should go there. i can't stop thinking about my andy warhol soupcans-print sun hat. i sit, i stare out the window, i think of the hat. memorial day cannot come soon enough, i tell you.

6. jon stewart's commencement speech at wiliam and mary. [via stereogum]

7. for those of you wondering about the praying mantises, here is a fun story. last week after fabulous lobster rolls at bongo and drinking at the 12-inch bar, i returned home to find four missed calls from kurt. thinking he'd locked himself out, i texted him that i was home. the reply: "praying mantis on stove." in tupperware, covered with saran wrap, hundreds of little mantises. they were not actually that cool-looking after all, unless you think mosquitos are cool. kurt, fearing they would all eat each other in the absence of available cockroaches, took them to tompkins square park and released them for all the bums to enjoy.

8. you could email me once in a while, you know. (and try not to be creepy, please.)

courtney love held a press conference in a courthouse bathroom. and then she made the best face ever.

and now i must focus on my weekend of eating, drinking, shopping, and partying.

ken talks about the upcoming old 97s album. certain people need to lay off the haterade. it can't be as horrifying as "the instigator," that's for sure. in related news, rhett, who still has long, layered hair but has lost the highlights, will play fez june 8 and 22! come alternately swoon and boo with me. i'll probably hit that first one because june 22 is mclusky at mercury.

i am so getting a bunnysutra watch.

damn, i just realized i can't make it cause i have strokes tickets, and so i shall live by the blogger's maxim: if you cannot go, link. usually when bands deem it worthwhile to send me their cd, it is bad news. not so with friends like these. their cd was pretty sweet. power pop that does not suck. plus they get extra cool points because craig finn sings on their new ep. they're playing sin-e on wednesday and the hook on saturday, and i would attend if it were not for the strokes and the extremely faraway location of the hook with respect to the lower east side, respectively.

also, new york city kool kids, please mark your calendars for thursday, may 27th. the hold steady are playing with the thermals, panthers, and blood on the wall at the mercury lounge, a show that is sure to be SHIT-HOT. be aware though: earlier that day i will have been learning to fly via trapeze with eileen, so you might have to hold my beer(s) for me.

aging virgin octopus finds love at last. [thank you kurt, who admitted to being "turned on" by this story]

rolling stone talks to jeff tweedy. i think i've given it a chance and i don't mind saying: "a ghost is born" is officially blah. boring. does not rock. does not pop. there might be a couple of songs that make an effort, but mostly it just kind of lays there. it'll be interesting to see the reviews for this one.

dave eggers on the kings of leon and not knowing how to describe music. it's good. he loves the repeat button too. "portland oregon" is my latest repeat-button casualty. i now fantasize about singing that one line ("well sloe gin fizz works mighty fast/when you drink it by the pitcher and not by the glass, uh huh") with mistah jack white. or, really, anyone. do you think they have that shit at sing sing?

finally, if you desire to know what drives a human to participate in a taco-eating contest, a taco-BELL-eating contest no less, you will want to visit jami's site today. i witnessed said contest and it was not pretty.

also: where is my goddamn tax refund already?!

the list of movies in bryant park is out. remember, getting tipsy on box wine and falling asleep on your blanket is more important than actually watching the film, which tends to be old and black-and-white, with the attendant bad acting. however, there are some goodies this year. the fun starts june 21 with "american graffiti."

also on the free-summer-shit tip, there are a bunch of cool saturday-afternoon shows scheduled this summer at east river park, conveniently located near my house: cat power, the natural history, measles mumps rubella, and more are on the schedule, and it looks like clem snide and laura cantrell will appear for the 3 farms festival.

vice guide to friendship.

little miss vanessa is once again at work on a benefit for poor protestors. want to help? show up at sin-Z� tonight at 8 and watch this band gladshot rock out. if indeed they do rock, which i cannot say for sure. the website does mention a "rootsy vibe," so put that in your pipe and smoke it. and then go to the show. that is my recommendation.

the pictures are of my stepfather's massive garage playland and the junk heap behind it. he has approximately seven tractors. new jersey was good despite a complete lack of target shopping. i went garage-saling and picked up a great sewing machine with all sorts of fancy stitching options for $5. when we got it home we noticed an old price tag on the side of the box: $229.95. score! projects are in the works....

also looked at old photos as mom searched for identity papers to prove her existence to the new jersey dmv. and then today dad sends this awesome picture of some weird university happening from 1964 (nobody knows why they're dressed that way; the parental units are the ones furthest to the right, sort-of-middle row):

get the pixies coachella set from the soundboard. there's also radiohead for those who care. [thanks daily refill]

stephen merritt and sufjan stevens on pop music. [via tmftml]

fred durst's blog. he listens to mazzy star and "wants to be touched."

scarlett johansson on her post-oscar elevator shenanigans with benicio del toro: "we were making out or having sex or something, which I think is very unsanitary," she tells elle magazine. okay, which one, and why doesn't she know?

loretta lynn wants to do two more albums with jack white.

the times takes a look at lynndie r. england, the despicable woman seen prominently in those horrendous images from iraq who inexplicably has not been charged. there's a picture of her holding a LEASH and she's a "suspect"?

in lighter news, you can grab a couple tracks off the new thermals album, as well as an assload of other stuff, on the self-starter good music page.

hmmm (and haaa): interesting chart correlating average state iqs with how they voted in 2000.

rolling stone's immortals issue is online now. [thanks coolfer]

catherine's pita is off to the burbs for the weekend. don't forget to call your momma!

yep, kurt, proving his inner freakness, has decided to raise a bunch of praying mantises in our home. flaming cockroaches running across the countertops are not wacky enough for him, apparently. we must have a bag of weird insects that can turn their heads to watch you taped to the kitchen window. i'm kind of excited: they are probably the coolest, most interesting bugs. no word on whether we will keep them long enough to watch a couple of them breed: the female eats the male during or after mating. smart!

nice obituary of sorts for gbv over at the black table: the day the voices died.

i too have experienced an unfortunate run-in at the token booth, though mine was at the delancey st. station and i won because the fucker eventually buzzed me through. lower east side: 1; williamsburg: 0.

news flash: olsen twins like indie rock! ashley olsen likes modest mouse; mary-kate prefers the postal service. ohmygod, they really are two different people! [via catchdubs]

i just watched bea arthur's peta video. it is not hilarious in the slightest! it is all about poor chickies who get their beaks cut off and stuff. thanks for making me feel all shitty, cormi. perhaps i should go veggie when the whole foods comes to houston street?

get your band on the OC, little band people.

i am intensely bored. so bored that i am trolling imdb for appropriate lengthy quotes to use for my away messages. maybe you are too. if so, these photoblogs might provide some relief: overshadowed and joe's nyc.

who says blogs aren't journalism? lindsay reports that you can now get to-go margaritas from el nuevo amanecer, which is so much better than the stupid hat anyway. i think you should only be allowed to patronize el nuevo amanecer if you can pronounce its name.

a quiz: art or crap? [via yewknee]

also, i am thinking about taking a summer pottery ("wheel-throwing") class at our name is mud's studio. you know, like in ghost. anybody want to join me?

so now that the walk is over, i can stop treating the pita like some public-radio fundraiser. that's it! you don't have to give money anymore (although you still can i think)! wooh! the walk was fun, sad, life-affirming. afterward jami and i rested, then met up with amy and paul and headed to queens for alli and chris's kentucky derby party. we sat on the deck and ate hamburgers and basked in the sun and drank retardedly strong (but tasty!) mint juleps. i wore my newly reconstructed "gettin' lucky in kentucky" shirt (putting my sewing machine to good use, see), but alas, i did not get lucky. my out-of-the-hat pick, lion heart, held the lead for most of the race until smarty jones pulled ahead of him and won. it turns out you are not supposed to boo in this situation. oops. after that we went to the beer garden in astoria, which almost made me wish i still lived there. then i soldiered on to manhattan and met up with cormi and randi and frankly, it's making me tired just thinking about it. i slept most of yesterday.