Hit Me Up!

I haven't posted in a while, but here is the thing, I usually wait until I get at least one comment before going to the next one.  Eventually, I had to face the facts that no one cared to comment on Kerry King in Japan or platonic man love.  Now, you would think that would deter me from the topics that yielded zero results, but along comes another man-love post.  Just read the parenthesis if you care to know what in the heck we are talking about in these texts:

Doctor Ken: I am thumping you 16 to 7. (That is a fantasy football score.  I am so rarely winning so thought I would live it up until Sunday).  How is the in-law Thanksgiving?  Buffalo dip? (His wife makes this unbelievable buffalo dip and when she brings it, the container is practically licked clean and nothing else is even close to being done).

HLP: Just got under way: Forgot to make the dip.  How was Thanksgiving/Roadhouse? (I was texting him on Thanksgiving how I was flipping between football and Roadhouse and how I never felt like such a man)

Doctor Ken: That was going swimmingly until my dad demanded football only.  And right before the throat rip! (In "Roadhouse," Swayze, portraying a bad ass bouncer,  rips out the throat of an unruly bar patron.)

Doctor Ken (again): "Who is Mike Jones!"  That just came on.  Great disc.  So many vodka Redbulls back then, like we were subject of some diabolical science experiment. (Back when we were roommates we would listen to a lot of Built To Spill before going out.  There was one disc by this brilliant Idaho band that we got an early leak of where to keep it from being a full on bootleg before the release, the bootleggers would throw in some rapper named Mike Jones pipe in with boisterous "Who is Mike Jones?" every few minutes, usually right at an epic part.  This was annoying for the first few listens, but now he and I actually prefer it that way.)

HLP: "Hit me up!  281 . . ."  That vodka Redbull period took years off of my life expectancy.  (Mike Jones would often leave his phone number in his songs for fans to hit him up, as it were, as you can observe below.)



Doctor Ken: Hahaha.  Yes.  Our hearts are even more pissed off than our livers. (This is when people first started ordering drinks with alcohol and energy drinks, and we thought, because they made us feel so good, that we should just drink them all night.  We only figured out later that you should just have one, maybe two, through out the course of the night when you start to get sleepy.  When you knock those back all night, when you come home, your whole body is super tired except for your heart which has serious palpitations all night long). 

That concludes this texting conversation.  Hope you enjoyed it.  Hey, readers, do you have a friend who makes you laugh out loud consistently when you get a text?

Okay, I'm still a little drunk, and it's not easy to see clearly that which I'm typing, but I wanted to get some thoughts down on this stupid rag of a blog.

I was posting random crap on Facebook about Randy Rhoads because it's National Metal Day and I love dead rock stars, especially when they're virtuoso types who were so bored from not doing drugs that they got into a single engine plane with their bus driver's plane who they didn't know was a dumbass coke addict and crashed the plane into their tour bus.

Anyway, all the searching around youtubes eventually got me stumbling upon a bunch of Built To Spill clips, probably my favorite band, and that's something I often lose sight of. They're from Boise, Idaho, but holy crap just listen.

When I was horribly depressed around the time I started this blog, I had a "Depressing as Hell" list, and there were a good number of BTS songs on there, and in fact, I think "Else" is still on the blog music player.

But, there is no song that makes me instantly want to cry more than "Carry the Zero." Jesus H. Christ, it's just so sad. There were nights where I just knew I needed to cry and I'd play this one to get it out there. Weird, right?

Okay, the computer is running out of power, so it's time to go to sleep. Treat yourself to something awesomely depressing and beautiful.