In Defense of Rex Ryan

Over the last two days, there has been a lot of talk about YouTube videos of a "mature" lady out of Maryland who goes by the (awesome) name of Ihaveprettyfeet. The only reason that folks are jabbering is that Ms. Feet may be the wife of New York Football Jets coach Rex Ryan. And that Ryan may have took the videos.

And this is fucking awesome.

You see, too often in life we are bombarded with scandal and who is screwing who drama when it comes to our celebs. There is no drama here, just a tubby sonofabitch who likes to videotape his wife's feet and possibly swing with her as well. Nothing is wrong with this, except for the fact that the media is making it a story.

Look, we all have our kinks. If Rex Ryan wants to videotape his wife's feet and delve into a little cuckholding, what does it matter? Is it going to effect his coaching? Probably not. Last time I checked, wanting to view all three of your wife's holes filled does not correlate with planning a game strategy against the Pats or the freaking Bills.

So let us reserve our scorn and disdain for those who really deserve it. People like the shady ass North Koreans, Congress, and the insanity of the Mexican judicial system. Leave poor Rexy and his awesome three way havin', foot suckin' fat ass alone.

Birfday Drunk. Birfday Drunk

Snowmageddeon III fucked my birthday plans in the arse, hard, and without a breath mint or a cuddle afterward. Due to being all dressed up with nowhere to go, I drank. Heavily, and a variety of different booze. Here's a rundown of my birthday merriment:

-Watched the Fuse Top 40 videos of 2K10 countdown. This was hosted by some fine little German-Mexican hybrid and a jackbooted dominatrix. The top 2 were Ok Go and Eminem. I liked Fuse much better when it was MuchMusic, and I liked music much better when it was 1995.

-Ordered a bacon explosion pizza from Papa John's. Yep, I made a delivery guy drive that shit out during Snowmageddon. It was sinful, greasy, and tasted like what I assume going down on Miss Piggy would be like. In short, heaven.

-Went up to the Pixie Liq and bought cans of Four Loko and a four pack of Surly. Basically, I was going as classy and as methed out as possible. After drinking the Four Loko I called my mother because I thought I was having a heart attack. This feeling passed. What did I do to celebrate, you ask? I drank another Four Loko my sadistic brother bought me as a "birthday present"

-I ate a fruit pizza.

-Watched biographies on Pro Wrestling, David Bowie, Fleetwood Mac, and Blondie. By the Bowie one I guess I blacked out. Supposedly, I said Bowie invented 80s pop music (true), that I have seen Debbie Harry pantsless (also true), and that Fleetwood Mac Rumours was one of the five best albums ever (not true).

-Came to out of the blackout and made a drunk Facebook invite for my birthday remix this Saturday. Entitled it "Fuck Da Snow" and invited a shit load of people I somehow forgot while making it sober last time. I blame my non-passout on the crack like powers of the Four Loko. That shit it bad, y'all.

So overall, I give the birthday a B- for fun, but an A+ for drunkenness. And I probably will never fucks with the Loko again. Let the winos and frat boys have it, I say.

Random Shuffle Cut O' The Day

Sometimes the magical little box known as the iPod spits out an unknown pleasure by even bands you thought you knew. Recently I stumbled upon this little beatuy:



Yep, Wheatus. Of "Teenage Dirtbag" fame. Off their third album (which I bought about five years ago but never familiarized myself with). Ignore the abosolute shittiness of the video and the fact that there is like two minutes of nothing after the song ends. Bathe in the MOOG-ness, the crunchy guitar, the whiny vocals.

I still can't decide what era this song belongs to. I have narrowed it down to late 80s alt-rock (think Transvision Vamp or some other crunchy Britpop) or early New Wave (the Cars would have owned this joint). Maybe, just maybe, it's timeless?

Record Show Journal 12/4/10

Magic ouccured again today at the Uptown VFW for the quarterly Twin Cities record show. There is nothing more magical than the smell of musty records, bearded hipsters, hot dogs, farts and dirty military jackets. It is a stew for the sense of smell, I tells ya. Well, actually, the sense of smell may be a little envious of the sense of sight due to all the old Starter jackets and skinny jeans on the premesis...

Anyways, the record show always provides its fair share of interesting convos to eaves drop on. Being the creep that I am, I induldged again today with reckless abandon. The highlights were as follows:

-40 something dude talking to sexy(ish) hipster chick about how 78 RPM records are the new hot thing. I guess I could have entered a time warp to 1918, but that still wouldn't explain why Elvis Costello would be recording two exclusive songs on 78. Because, you know, Elvis Costello was about -30 in 1918.

-The same 40 something pimping his tape review blog to the hipster chick, THEN pimping his tape only record label by bringing over another disheveled 40 something that was his prized signing on the label. (NOTE TO DESPERATE SINGLE LADIES: If you are looking for any sort of attention, a record show is a great place to get it). Obviously this guy is onto something with the antiquated tech being "the next big thing". I wonder if he is going to release some films on 8MM anytime soon? Maybe a LaserDisc of the new Tron movie? God, I can only hope and pray.

-Two fat old bearded dudes arguing about how Obama sucks and "if the Republicans were in charge, none of this shit would have happened." Sadly, I never got to hear just what the "shit" was. I assume it was probably involving the blacks, the queers, and/or the abortionists though.

The Republican arguement was really interesting, because I always assumed that people digging through crates of old albums were pretty liberal. But I guess that the record show is the ultimate showing of survival-of-the-fittest capitalism along with a perfect example of selling to a captive audience. For example, I could look on eBay for a Carole King record and probably get it for fiddy cent. But at a record show, I have to pay like 3 bucks for a shitty copy of Tapestry (Please note: I own this record and would have never payed more than a buck for it. Even though it's fucking rad). I would have no other option but to fork over my money to the dude who looks like a cross between Santa Claus and a Lot Lizard raping truck driver if I want to hear "It's Too Late".

Plus, the old lady who runs the enterance and collects the $2 enterance fee is totally a Tea Party member. Totally.

Here were my finds for the day:
Lou Reed - Coney Island Baby
Dexys Midnight Runners - Searching For the Young Soul Rebels
Gary Numan - Telekon
The Blues Project - Projections
Willie Hutch - Havin' A House Party (winner of best album cover of the day, due to sexy chicks in halter dresses, a living room designed to do coke in, and the old cat with the cotton colored balding afro and sideburns combo in the background)

Total spent: $19
There you have it, records really ARE your best entertainment value.

What This Guy is Thankful For (2010 Edition)

Ah, Thanksgiving...the time of year where most stuff themselves with turkey and other random delicious crap. Oh yeah, and it's also the time of year where thanks are given.

I've always been a little confused about this part. Are those thanks supposed to be given in a public setting, i.e. the dinner itself? Or are they supposed to be a private matter, like counting your blessings or praying to the Baby Jesus? If option "A" is the correct choice, I've failed the Turkey God miserably. I have never given thanks in person to anyone, or to any THING on the day itself.

So to hedge my bets, I'm just going to blog the shit out of what I am thankful for this year. Hopefully, those closest to me (I'm looking at you, my immediate family, my ladyfriend, and my circle of friends who puts up with my drunken, rambling, inane ass on a daily-to-weekly basis) understand that I am eternally grateful for them being here in my life. Seeing as how they are the most important and they know it, I am going to spend the rest of the blog focusing on some of my lesser thankfuls for the year. And awaaaaaay we go...

What I am thankful for this year:

Coffee
Yep, pretty sure I couldn't get by without you. You are my raven-colored (and sometimes creamy mocha-colored) mistress, friend and mother. Thanks for being there every morning in all of your guises.

The MLB Network
As a tubby little boy growing up in Brooklyn Park, I often prayed for a channel that showed baseball highlights all the time, along with old games and the occasional re-airing of the Ken Burns documentary Baseball. When I got older and more jaded I thought that prayers often go unanswered. The MLB Network proves this wrong.

Half Price Books
More specifically, the clearance LP and CD sections at these stores. Where else could I have been opened up to many kinds of music that I thought I never would listen to? Five years ago, I never would have thought I would even listen to the likes of Fleetwood Mac or Cat Stevens. Now I realize that they are glorious mom-jean rock.

Surly Beer
I am thankful for Surly for murdering my love of Miller Light and other shitty lawnmower beers. Except for PBR. I totally fucks with PBR still.

My New found Love of Cooking
Well, I should say it's not so much "cooking" as it is "not eating takeout/fast food all the goddamn time". As one who embraces trash culture at every turn, I thought my life would consist of me solely eating Taco Bell and SuperAmerica hot dogs for eternity. In the last couple of months I have come to the realization that making a salad and a tortilla rollup leaves you feeling much less degraded than a Whopper or a Chalupa would.

Shitty 80s Pop Music
Shitty 80s pop music got me through the Summer of My Discontent. Special thanks to it's sexier cousin, Shitty 80s New Wave, for still being there for me in much happier times.

NBA Jam for the XBOX 360
Even though I haven't played this yet, I am sure it's going to kick ass. I mean, you can play as Bill Clinton, Len Bias, Larry Bird and (probably) the Phoenix Gorilla. What's not to like? Thank you for letting me revert into 12 year old Jake, sans the business mullet and the Notre Dame sweatshirt.

Katy Perry's Rack/Tunes
Strangely, I find both her bazooms and her music compelling at about the same level. I'm not sure what that says about me as a man, but I don't fucking care. I am just glad those sweater kittens are there, along with her sappy pop confections from the gods.

Well, there you have it. I guess you could say that at this point in 2K10 I am living a Teenage Dream, much like Miss Perry. But with a much less fantastic rack...

Chili-Wacked

I have mixed feelings on the Purple firing Brad Childress. On one hand, he was a totally overmatched coach who had no idea how to run an offense or modivate his players. For reals, he was like a 16 year old getting an Aston Martin as his first car instead of a Ford Tempo. He just looked confused about how to operate the damn thing and then ended up crashing it into a telephone pole.

On the other hand, Chilly provided so much material. He looked like one of two things most days. Depending on the day he looked like either a sex offender or the star of 90's sitcom Major Dad, Gearld McRaney. The sex offender days were when he wore a black Vikings sweatshirt like my dad wears to bum around the house, and the Major Dad days were when the Vikings were getting plowed like Jill Kelly. Plus, his play calling thing looked like a Denny's menu, which provided at least 10 "Run 86 red right and get me a Super Bird" jokes. Per game.

At this point I am so damn numb from the farce that this Purple season has become I really can't feel a thing. I think anyone could coach this team better than Chilly, but I really don't care right now. I sort of hope Fav-ray retires and they throw T-Jack to the wolves to see if he can cut the mustard as a starter. And hopefully if they do, they can run 78-Trips-Left Moons over My Hammy a few times.

Here is a song to get through the Purple Malasie:



Hear that? It's the happy sound of seeing your chick with another dude. Oh, who the fuck cares? Do you hear fucking how joyous this is? I mean, with whistling, hand claps, and a freaking live audience who needs that two timing ho? Big ups to Cat Stevens for writing this and the Tremeloes for playing it.

Purple Pride?

I watched most of the Purple game today (up until Fav-ray's dumbass fucking pick #2). Then, subconsciously, I played this song on my iPod. It pretty much sums up my feelings on this lost fucking season...



Yep, I went from crying like I just got dumped after the NFC Championship game last year to summing up my crushed hopes and dreams with a Chicago (3rd incarnation) #1 hit. Look Away indeed, guy who is not Peter Cetera or Terry Kath.

Drinkin' Alone

For the last week, I have been out of commission with a case of strep/tonsillitis. Due to this aliment, I missed stuff. This is extremely disappointing due to the fact that sickness caused me to a) miss one of my closest friends birthdays b) miss out on a karaoke night and c) caused my girlfriend to quarantine me. Above all this, sickness caused me to not drink.

So tonight, after feeling 95% of Jake-tastic, I decided to get loose with my old friend Windsor and his life partner Diet Coke (yes, I assume Diet Coke is gay). Here is a rundown

- Went on Amazon.com and bought one XBOX game (Mass Effect) and one New Wave compilation CD (The Rhino released ones, this one with "Wouldn't It Be Good" by Nik Kershaw). Grand total: $17.80.

-Watched the new South Park. Thought the Shake Weight coming on Stan's wife's face was pretty funny, and also enjoyed the take on food porn.

-Signed up for mint.com. Was shocked that I only spent $14 bucks on booze this month. Vowed to triple this output by December 1st.

-Followed the Wolves game on my phone because David Kahn is a vampire crossed with a meerkat who is killing my joy by not televising a goddamn Wolves game even though Kevin Love is a beast this season and Beasley dropped 30 AGAIN tonight! (Rant over).

-Enjoyed a Kennedy Assassination documentary on History International that claimed Kennedy was shot by Oswald alone. Yelled "bullshit" alone in my room at my stolen TV.

-Made a Facebook invite for my 28th birthday. Realized its a direct facsimile of my 27th birthday, except at a bar 8 blocks away. Came away satisfied nonetheless.

-Did a load of laundry. Probably mixed whites and coloreds.

-Bumped "Angelia" by Richard Marx. Twice. This confirmed perviously held sober beliefs that Richard Marx is extremely underrated.

-Received three bootleg Pearl Jam CDs from a courier (my landlady/future sister-in-law)which she received from Sir Rich Abraham at a chocolate party. Googled lyrics to songs I have never heard so I could put them on my flawless iPod.

The biggest realization out of all of this was that I get more done while drinking than when I am sober. The only conclusion that can be drawn is that I need to drink alone a whole lot fucking more.

The Tao of Kenny Rogers

Half Price Books holds many books in its hallowed walls. I am sure somewhere in its musty, lusty confines it even has a bible. But what was found there today trumps all these books. Strangely, it wasn't even a book. It was an audio document of how to be a man, nay, be THE MAN.

This meisterarbeit was called "Kenny Rogers 20 Greatest Hits".

Now before you get all highfalutin hipster on me and say "Kenny Rogers fucking sucks," let me tell you why Mister Rogers songs are a template on how to live a richer, fuller life. I am going to limit the Tao of Kenny to ten lessons, but there are more. Take this as a beginners guide to the Bearded Chicken Slinging Gideon.

1) Don't fall in love with a dreamer. Cause he'll break you every time (from Don't Fall In Love With a Dreamer)
Pretty self explanatory. Level headed or crazy partners are the best. Because dreamers are unrealistic and will break the fuck out of your stride.

2) If a crazy hot chick is at the bar and takes off her wedding ring, go drink whiskey with her (from Lucille)
Bonus points if the chick's husband comes in and bitches about how she left at an inopportune time (say when there are four hungry kids and crops going to shit). You then do what Kenny did and dismiss this guy as a pussy and take the broad to a no tell motel to totally do some nasty cougar hucklebuck. And probably steal her Pall Malls afterwards.

3) Never let a 16 year old Ginger stripper dominate your life (from Scarlett Fever)
Sure, we all like going to strip clubs called the Lucky Star and falling for girls who claim they are older than they are. But we never let them be a proxy for are lifelong dreams. Cause one day they are going to chase their own dreams without you, and you will be left a lonely, broken shell of a man. Possibly with a deadly fever.

4) Drink cheap booze, because it somehow is sweeter than the top shelf shit (from Life or Something Like It)
According to Kenny the cheaper wine is somehow sweeter than the good stuff. Although he may be referring to the woman who is trashy and who is accompanying him to a no tell motel (Again with the cheap motels Kenny? Do you not have a Holiday Inn in your magic town?). This advice loses some credence though because it is set to a beat that vaguely recalls "Margaritaville".

5) If your girlfriend is sexually assaulted, beat the shit out of the perpetrators. Even if your dead daddy told you not to (from Coward of the County)
Kenny knows that fighting is wrong. Mainly because his dad died in prison for fighting. But sometimes not fighting gets you called a pussy. And it makes marauding bands of Brothers Gatlin feel the need to pull a rape train on your girlfriend. Even though your daddy may have made you promise on his deathbed not to fight, sometimes you have to go to the local bar (where the Gatlin's gather, natch), lock the door, and fuck those Crackers up while the other patrons watch. That will show em who's a coward. And it will show great Dalton-in-Road House-like restraint. Because any other man would kill those raping bastards.

6) When crippled in the war, don't trust broads named Ruby. Because they will totally fuck other dudes (from Ruby, Don't Take Your Love To Town)
Make sure you know who is loyal to you. Because sometimes shit happens. Like getting paralyzed in Vietnam. And when you come back, your lady may want to screw everything and anything with her painted up face because the tackle doesn't work the same. Trust your base instincts and get your shotgun and "put her in the ground" if she can't stay with you for the few months you have left to live. After all, you just need some company.

7) Sing duets with hellafine 80s chicks (see Don't Fall in Love With A Dreamer and We've Got Tonite)
Always pick duet partners who don't fit with you (Sheena Easton's fine Scotch ass? Kim "Bette Davis Eyes" Carnes?). Because its more fun to dance into the unknown sometimes. But don't duet with chicks named Dottie West. Because that just may suck...

8) Let love turn you around and lift you (from Love Will Turn You Around and Love Lifted Me)
Love can truly turn you around. Especially if it is sung as the theme from a movie about Stock Car racing featuring Diane Lane. And love can lift, especially if sung about in a raspy, mannish yet soothing voice.

9) Heed the words of formerly funky ass black dudes (see Lady)
If Lionel Richie comes to you with a song about a lady, you sing the fuck out of that song. Because those in the know know that LR is not only beloved by Islamic men (and may be the key to ending the War on Terr)but also can write a country song better than anyone else (for those doubters, pleeeeeese YouTube "Stuck on You" and "Sail On"). Sometimes, that song may even go to #1 and become your biggest pop hit.

10) Listen to dying men on trains (from The Gambler)
Train trips suck I bet, with all that jostling and staring at cornfields. So if some dude who is wheezing and coughing comes up to you and notices you are out of aces, give him some of your hooch if he asks for it. Because he may impart you with advice such as "you gotta know when to hold em, know when to fold em, know when to walk away and know when to run." This may be the most universal, succinct and brilliant life path ever put down in a pop song.

There you go. Use these ten tips as a starting point, not an endpoint, on discovering the Tao of Kenny. Take it to heart, and LIVE!!! I just may drop in to see what condition your condition is in from time to time...

Sunday Morning Comin' Down

Oh Jesus Fucking Christ, this weekend was a blur. Is it even possible to nurse a hangover from two days prior when you drank the night beofre? Mainly I stuck to Schell's Dark at the Milla wedding last night. I don't think the body could take any more hardness after the Sailor Jerry/Vodka Lemonade duality of Friday night. Still, barely can get out of bed this morning. Just sitting around, Google Image searching for the chick who published the Duke Fuck List PowerPoint and listening to pre-Buckingham/Nicks Fleetwood Mac. Which is surprisingly fucking good, for those who are interested.

Sometimes I wonder how long one is supposed to party like this. It especially hits me when I go to a friends wedding and the majority of the guests leave before eight. And those guests were not the old lady silver fox set, but my contemporaries. Those wonders usually pass when I realize that those who leave weddings before eight are boring fucks, the kind of people who eat brunch without Mimosas and only get it on missionary except for once a year to "spice things up in the bedroom". These people never once considered screwing on a couch or in a kitchen.

So I guess for now I will keep on keeping on going like I do. Singing karaoke at a shitty VFW and making out in some random lawn in Uptown is much more interesting than antiquing anyways.

Game of Pricks

Greatest song ever sung by a hard charging drunkard ex-elementary school teacher, or just one of the greatest songs ever? You be the judge.

US Open Fight (A Deconstruction)

And this is why I have no desire to visit New York anytime soon...

This video encapsulates almost every goddamn stereotype about New York that has ever been bandied about. You have the fat Italian woman screaming at the guido because he was being "rude" (when is screaming at a complete stranger not rude?). You have the random public "fucks" in that disgusting accent. You have a Greek chorus of other disgustingly accented Noo Yawkers screaming random shit instead of actually helping resolve the conflict. And finally, you have a fat man in a Mets hat throwing in his two cents long after the whole thing should have been finished.

No wonder most of the world hates us...at least the French would have made a public sporting altercation look sexy.

Ladies of the 80s: Belinda Carlisle

Today I was on a serious 80s kick in the Focus and I went to one of my standbys whilst rocking the fuck out. That standby is former Go-Go Belinda Carlisle.

I've had a crush on Belinda Carlisle since I was like five or six, and even though she was super 80s hot (look at that sleeved tube top!) I would like to think its because of the tunes. A Belinda Carlisle song FEELS like falling into a crush. For some reason, whenever I hear "Mad About You" it reminds me of going around on one of those octopus things at a carnival with some cute chick. But its never modern times, its always 1986 and I have a jean jacket and she has Bon Jovi bangs...

The big hit was "Heaven is a Place on Earth" of course, and if you've ever heard it you don't need to be told of its greatness. All of her songs are like that. Some sort of amazing girly concotion of rock guitar, cutesy vocals about being weak or heaven or sand circles, and then the chorus repeated in the fade. There isn't sistas doing stuff like this anymore. Well, maybe Kelly Clarkson (who was also derided for being chubby but whom I actually found sexier with some chubb) and her songs are more about not hooking up with drunk dudes and breathing for the first time.

So I salute you Belinda. The real life Miss Carlisle drank during her pregnancy and made Elton John look like a recreational coke user, but in song, you were the perfect crush for a little fat kid from Minneapolis.

I Hate Mike Napoli's F*****g Beard

With the Twins taking the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim-Orange County Burbank to the woodshed this evening, I figured it would be the perfect time to comment on the one thing on the OTHER L.A. team that bothers me.

I hate Mike Napoli's fucking beard.

Now, I really don't know all that much about Mike Napoli, other than he's a) of Italian descent b) he's been on the Angels for at least two years and c) his mom has excellent tits (Google that shit, now!). What I do know is that he has, by a wide margin, the shittiest beard in MLB.

I first laid eyes on Napoli's facial follicles in the opening series of 2008. Me and my roomies at the time were transfixed by the Angels catchers beard. It wasn't particularly that he had a beard that offended me, it was the way it was trimmed. That shit rides higher on Napoli's face than Steve Urkel's pants. The offensive beard leaves neck pudge visible, which is a no no. The beard is also not very full, nor has it ever been. It's sort of like a George Michael crossed with Don Johnson thing.

Now every Twins-Angels game since then has had me staring at Napoli, wondering if he will let the face salad grow full and free of its cheek constraints onto his neck (as nature no doubt intended). Every time, I end up disappointed because the high rising 80s shadow beard remains. So until Napoli wises up and grows a Jayson Werth face thicket or a Kevin Youkilis Greek God Goatee, I will forever be hollerin' "I hate Mike Napoli's Fucking Beard!!!!!"

Softball Recap 8/20/10 (Kings of the Yard)?

Fall ball got off to an epic start this week. Tuesday night consisited of a revamped Revolution Softball Club splitting out our doubleheader in Plymouth. We played the city champs close, losing by three in the nightcap. Seeing the old legend "White Power" Bill was a treat, as his bat was still hotter than Katy Perry in a pillowfight.

The Friendly Fridley on Thursday however was much more epic. The 1-2-3 Kids mistakenly signed up for upper D. Personally, I thought the squad would get crushed...especially when I saw our brahsome opponents. I have never seen so many trailer trash chinstrap beards, cargo/Jean shorts, flatbills and brah faces in my life. One fucker even cocked his flatbill sideways.

It didn't get much better during the game. The Tupac Fan Club jumped out to a 7-2 lead, and I got doubled off second. Cocked flatbill felt the need to comment on my girth in a way only someone who thinks he's united for Compton can. This got the squad amped, and the 1-2-3 Kids rolled for the win. Then we rolled into the second game where I went yard, Tom Klick went yard, and Jordan Eickholt went yard. Somehow Jeff Hill drew like four walks, and we ten ruined the Dirtballs or the fucking Balls Deep or whatever the fuck brahskis call their squads.

Most satisfying site was seeing their bleach blonde Aveda trailer queen ladies leave the game early because their men couldn't hold a candle to our rag tag squad. I'm sure they were hitting up some Two Stooges or some A-Town spots.

Broken Social Scene Is My New Favorite Band!!!!!!!!!!

OMG!!! And I havent even fucking heard them!

So I was at Starbucks on Saturday night, buzzed on Surly and preggo with sushi (a freaking SPAM/Pinapple/Cream Cheese loveroll) and I came across one of those free iTunes download cards of a group called Broken Social Scene. I immeadetly fell in love. These peeps were everything I wanted in a indie fucktard band looks wise. The above is a similar pic.

I mean, come on! From left, you have the following;
Fat Bearded Hipster Fuck - I bet this guy is the drummer
Hipster Fuck Who Thinks He's John Doe from X - Probable lead singer/guitarist
Chuck Klosterman Hipster Fuck - This guy loves both basketball and Warrant
OMFG Feist! - The most hipster chick on Earth 2005
Bald Ironic Hipster Fuck - Nice Alferd E. Neuman shirt
Lounge Lizzard Hipster Fuck - The Serge Gainsbourg fan in the group
Strokes Looking Maritime Jacket Hipster Fuck - This guy probably plays synths
Other Hipster Chick in the Band Who I Would Love to Fuck - Pretty self explanatory
Rick Rubin Circa 1986 Stoner Hipster Fuck - This guy somehow has to DJ. Or he is their dealer. Or he may spike the punch with Spanish Fly and put a pie in Tabatha Soren's face
Mike D Hipster Fuck - Actual name: Clarence. And of course he's hugging on Rick

From what I remember hearing about this band like five years ago, they may be powerpop (me likey) and they are for fucking sure from Ca-Nada (me also likey, if it can get me some Molson Dry). What I KNOW about the Scene is that I would murder for their record collections but would never want to talk to them, you know, because my records would be shit to their sensabilities.

I also wonder what the Scene dreams in their loft apartments at night. Do they lament the probable lack of Pabst Blue Ribbon in Ottawa? Are their adventures to Willamsburg to get boat shoes and "I Love Intercourse, PA" t-shirts? What do they eat for breakfast? Have they ever played Rick Astley anthems un-ironically? So many unanswered questions that my new favorite band poses to my feeble non hipster brain.

Comfort Music?

The last few weeks I haven't been quite myself. A breakup can do that to a man.

Besides having conflicting sad/angry emotions, sometimes crippling self doubt, and a general loss of appetite, I have been listening to a lot of music. I'm not sure what most people turn to musically when something traumatic happens. I would assume 70s singer/songwriters or maybe Slayer? Not this guy though...I play the most inane pop music of the 80s.

I have about 15 gigs of 80s Top 100 Billboard charts on my iPod, and they have been on shuffle for the last couple of weeks at home, at work, and in the car. It's gotten so bad at work that one of my co-workers actually said (after I explained exactly WHY I was listening to "Kyrie" for the 15th time that week) "now you are making us all suffer". Yet I still turn to my comfort music.

Comfort music is not like comfort food (although they both theoretically share Meat Loaf). At least I don't THINK they are the same. One man's "How Will I Know" could be another man's Cure or maybe Otis Redding. Hell, I don't even know if anyone else does this. My personal belief is that my favorites (whether it be "The Blue Album", "Ten", "The Low End Theory" or "Exile on Main St.") should not be tainted by bad memories of the down times. I want to hear "Rocks Off" in a month or two and shake my sexy white ass without thinking about all the bad shit that I am currently going through.

Fortunately, 80s shit pop is untouchable like Elliot Ness. One cannot put special meaning on Jermaine Stewart or the song "Look Away" by Chicago. All those songs remind me of are being five years old and running through sprinklers and jumping on beds and trips to 7-Eleven for Slurpees and Tony Gwynn's jheri curl on a 1989 Donruss baseball card. The disposableness of those joints makes them have no emotional heft, and I can only tie them to positive memories at a time in my life where I really couldn't feel hurt. They are my aural Salisbury Steak.

Most Disappointing Fast Food Items

When one thinks of fast food, one thinks quick, cheap, good, but a little slutty. Or at least that is what I think. I always feel like I looked at some really messed up internet lovin' after I eat a Big Mac. Sure I feel satisfied and great, but I sort of hate myself afterwards. So recently, I cut down on the fast food to once a week. Subway, Jimmy Johns, Quiznos, and Chipotle are excluded because they are like a comitted relationship, not the sleazy trysts that await at Maca Dons.

This lack of fast food in my life has got me thinking about limited time offerings that I have had over the years. Some, like the late beloved McCheddar Melt, will live in imfamy in my brain. Others, like the Cuban Sandwich I had at Subway today, are on my no-fly list. Here are a few others that broke my cholesterol choked heart:

The Arch Deluxe - McDonalds dropped this bomb on us in the mid-90s. The Arch Deluxe was supposed to make baby boomers eat McDonalds at times when their whiny kids didn't want it. The sandwich was a failure, probably due to over advertising (I specifically remember getting free coupons in Sports Illustrated for a month for free sandwiches). My whole family also got food poisoning from these bad boys, probably due to the shitty djon sauce they used on the crappy potato bread roll.

Any Grilled Stuft Burrito - Who the hell came up with this idea? The press (so magical with the quesadilla) burns the shit out of the burrito, so every flavor consists of char and bean. Negative bonus points for the Ceasar Wrap Burrito T-Bell tried a few years ago. Nothing says awesome like grilled fucking lettuice.

The Cuban Sandwich - Subway dropped the ball with this one. The Cuban is a bland Islamic/Jewish nightmare sammich in general(nothing but pork on pork, much like the Rosanne-Tom Arnold union). Subway's bland way with things make eating this taste like munching mustard coated sawdust. Even sexy ass red onions couldn't save this 12" Titanic.

Ribs at Burger King - I never tried these things, but Burger King gets me sick as all hell when I eat there for some reason. So I assume the ribs there had to blow. I mean, come on! McDonalds doesn't do foie fucking gras. Stick to your guns, Whopper Land!

The Bert Burger - When I found out about the Bert Burger I was super amped. Wendy's used to have a melt burger back in my college days with Thousand Island that killed. And what was that on Bert's eponymous burger? Yep, 1-0-0-0 Island! Too bad they used just a little dollop, and the huge ass bun soaked it all up. It just goes to show, don't be shy with that sauce!

Honorable mention goes to the Double Down at KFC, even though I believe they were being hipster ironic and daring fatasses to eat the thing. As a large American with a weakness for MSG and irony, I tried it. And it blew, but I knew that deep down in my being going into it. It was sort of like watching a Dane Cook movie. No substance, but high ironic comedy.

Thoughts, feelings, suggestions?

SUGAR - If I Can't Change Your Mind

I'm in a real sad sack mood lately, and I think I've probably listened to this song about 20 times in the last three days. Man, Bob Mould must have had some SHIT happen to him with dudes breaking his heart. A friend of mine claims that most of these songs are secretly written about Husker Du mate Grant Hart, and I don't know whether or not to believe her on that one...but it makes sense.

Any way you slice it, one of the most carthartic break up songs of all time. Thanks Mister Mould for making my world a little brighter with your pain and suffering.

SIDE NOTE: Did you know Bob Mould was one of the writers for WCW during the Monday Night Wars era in the late 1990s? I've always wondered what angles he planned...and why he was working as a wrestling writer. What other indie legends could have done this? Billy Corgan tried to buy ECW back in the day too I guess...all I gotta say is what the hell?

Vegas Baby

After having spent a weekend in Las Vegas, I discovered that the old adage about a city having its own personality holds very true. For example, Milwaukee is a messy, lazy city built on the commerce of one export, beer. And the city loves it. It is comfortable in its own skin.

Vegas, on the other hand, is fake. Fake skyline, fake tan, fake tits, fake everything. And I was incredibly enamored with it. At the newsstand in my hotel they sold the one local Vegas daily, but also the New York Post, The London Daily Mail and a Japanese daily. No one cares about the local news, the city just serves as a sandbox for outsiders. This is the charm (and the curse) of Vegas.

My crew decided to venture off the strip to go to In-N-Out Burger. Let's just say the experience was eye opening. A pimp tried to grift my phone from me. Persians did shots of some sort of lemon liqueur while screaming "fuck" every other word. And a local in a Justin Bieber t-shirt and stunner shades claimed he was a regular, and then preceded to botch his order at the counter.

The key to the above paragraph is the location: In-N-Out is off the strip. The strip is clean, a joy to behold, safe. The off strip locations from what I saw were dirty, filled with low rent hotels and gas stations, and void of any people. When I stayed in Vegas a few years ago, I stayed at the south end of the strip past Mandalay Bay and it was very similar. Dead area, dicey.

On the strip though, the fakeness can be amazing. Watching a fountain show in front of the Bellagio (in a city that should have no water) is fun. Drinking Coca-Cola products from around the world is fun. Losing 100 bucks while playing slots is also strangely fun. But all these experiences are absolutely fake. You can't do any of these things in real life, in any other city in America(save for the gambling thing, and its not as fun to drop a Hondo with the old blue hairs at Treasure Island or Mystic Lake).

So Vegas is fake. But I wouldn't have my strip experience any other way. So I'm going to stay in the sandbox.

It's Been A Long Time Since I Left You...

...and I'm back kids!

So I have bought a guap of new CDs lately, and let me tell you, this has been an amazing summer for music. Tuesday I picked up the new Kele (the lead singer of Bloc Party) and The Roots. The Kele joint is sort of like Depeche Mode crossed with the gayness of Erasure, and the song "Tenderoni" is probably not about the same girl Bobby B was singing about if you get my drift. Still, I knew what I was getting into when I bought it...I wanted me some sexually ambiguous techno pop.

The Roots disc is murky and solid like their last three. Listenable all the way through. I really dig the track "Radio Daze" (it sounds like the hook was crooned by Gil-Scott Heron) and the Jim James guest starring "Dear God 2.0". The Roots boys should just do a whole album of reworkings of others songs ("Dear God" and "The Seed" 2.0s both being fire).

Next for this guy...Vegas baby! I will be so money this weekend I won't even know it. Here's to eating Del Taco/Weinerschnitzel at 5AM in some sort of weird food court!

Land of Body Slams?

One of my secret pleasures is pro wrestling. Well, I should add that not WWE as it is now but the old school shit, from about 1980 to maybe 2000, when WCW and the greatest of all time ECW went out of business. Yes, these were the golden ages, where titans like Hogan, Savage, Flair and Austin battled for my mind and heart.

Needless to say, I read a guap (thanks MIMS) about the goings on in the squared circle around this time. One thing I read was that Abe Lincoln, the Man by all accounts, was the champion of the world. The only other person who can defend this statement is Mister Jeff Hill, and I guess he saw it on a documentary or something. And the only time this is discussed is when both of us are shit faced, in between debating who's record collection is better.

But, now I have proof. I guess Honest Abe murked some fool outside precursor to a Target and then they joined forces to become the first example of the Mega Powers. All I can say is...rad. Fucking rad.

Abe vs Armstong for the Intercontinental Title:
http://rogerjnorton.com/Lincoln48

Yacht Rock 12

This may be the best episode of anything ever...or at least since that Cheers where Kevin McHale was the guest star.

Confessions Pt. 3

-Five Guys Burgers and Fries is the most amazing take out hamburger ever. I think I have perfected my toppings finally (Bacon Double Cheese, fried onions, A-1 Sauce, pickle and green pepper). I don't know how In-N-Out is going to compare to this in June.

-I bought Miles Davis "Kind of Blue" the other day in the cutout bin for two bucks because everyone always hypes it as mind blowing. I listened to it, and I can see why everyone is amazed by it...but it only affected me in a way that classical music does. I can appreciate the amazing musicianship, but its not my cup of tea. Maybe I will revisit it sometime down the road.

-The other night I actually enjoyed wine. A lot. Although I bought a bottle of Riesling and I was defininetly not beasting off it like Kanye. It really sucked and me and my lovely dinner companion ended up dumping out the bottle.

-Three days of softball may be a bit too much for one man to do in a week. I'm still going to do it though, because I love the game like Favre loves football. I'm an old gunslinger I guess.

Half Price Books Rant

Tonight I stopped off at my local Half Price Books after having a few for a work happy hour thing. HPB sounded like a good idea due to the fact that I was a little buzzed (How did I know this? I bumped "Arthur's Theme" by Christopher Cross and sang along at full blast). In retrospect, I should have just went home.

HPB is one of my fave raves when it comes to finding cheap records and CDs. But 50% of the patrons are, to put it bluntly, the scum of the fucking Earth. Tonight a 400 lb sweathog in a neon yellow shirt was screaming about how he found the "Great Milenko" by the Insane Clown Posse and asking his little subservient bitch friend if Moby was "some kind of DJ". The dudes purchases consisted of the aforementioned ICP disc, 10,000 Maniacs unplugged, and a Staind CD. He then literally ran out of the store giggling with his partner in bondage.

Last week at the same HPB, a fat dude in a Canadian Tuxedo waxed poetic to his autistic looking son about Don Knotts and how he "remembered him", how zombie movies were so bad they were "dead" (pun intended) and how Dog Day Afternoon and Reservoir Dogs were the same movie because "they both had that Harvey dude in them".

Also to be noted, none of these people are even giving the books a glance. It's always the VHS tapes and the DVDs that are getting the most play.

Will the sweet mix of white trash, hipsters and the mentally challenged stop me from digging in the crates? Definitely not. But it just feels nice to bitch about it every once in a while. I see HPB more than I see my extended family, so I think at this point I have earned the right to rant about Auntie Half Price.

Record Store Day Journal 2010

Saturday was the 3rd annual Record Store day. I always get really hyped up for record store day and then puss out on buying any of the big ticket shit because it's too spendy. This year was no different. But let me start with my two previous record store day experiences.

2008 - I went to a record store in Memphis called Katz (I believe) on Record Store Day. No one was there. The only "special releases" were a Black Keys 45 and an REM 45. Seeing as how I owned the records those songs came from, I said fuck it. I did get a goodie bag with the uber-shitty remake of "Wanna Be Startin Something" in it. I also think I bought "Dandy In The Underworld" by T.Rex. Oh wait, that was at the FYE on the Vanderbilt campus. Nevermind. But that record does kick some major ass...

2009 - Record Store Day 2009 was a little more hyped. The only record I really wanted was the Flaming Lips 45 of "Borderline" b/w a Black Keys cover. I guess it was sold out everywhere...except for the dinky ass Down in the Valley by my house. That was the only purchase I made that day.

2010 - This year, there was about four records I was amped for. I knew I wasn't going to get the Hold Steady LP (especially in MPLS) but I figured I could cop the Queens of the Stone Age, Passion Pit and Phoenix discs for cheap. Fortunately for me, I got Twins tickets and couldn't go to the stores early. Because the day was a dissapointment.

Cheapo in Uptown had the QOTSA and Phoenix records, but the QOTSA record was going for 16 bone for four tracks (one of which I owned). So I picked up the Phoenix record for 6 bucks...along with the Pavement "Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain" deluxe edition, the new(ish) Mos Def, and "The Handler" by Har Mar Superstar for under 16 bucks TOTAL.

Figuring my luck may be better at the hole in the wall Down In The Valley I scored at the year previous, I high tailed it over there. That is where I experienced the living, breathing personification of Comic Book Guy

ME: "You have any of the Record Store Day stuff?
RECORD STORE GUY: "Yeah, we have two Pantera records and Owl City."
ME: "Um, do you have the Queens of the Stone Age EP"
RECORD STORE GUY: "NO! That sold within 20 minutes"
ME: "Yeah, I saw it at Cheapo for 16. Kinda expensive"
RECORD STORE GUY: "That's the retail. 16"
ME: "Still expesive for four tracks"
RECORD STORE GUY: "Whatever, its worth, like 100 bucks! There's only 500 of them!"
ME: (Immeadetly leaves the store)

I don't know how the clerk immediately became Beckett Record Store Monthly, or who raised him, but I was about done after that shit. I did hit up Cheapo Fridley, where they had an abundance of the damn Owl City record. The only purchase there was "The Best of The Move" on CD.

Five days later, I still regret not buying that Queens of the Stone Age record...

Inside Target Field

Whoa, Nellie! Yesterday was one of those days that will stick with me forever, long after I am bald, fatter, and probably divorced from my Mail Order Russian bride. Saturday, April 17th was monumental in the life of one Jacob Donald Eickholt for one reason - I finally got to see the Minnesota Twins play outdoors at their own stadium.

I have been to probably 75-100 games in the Dome in my lifetime, starting with my first game against the Red Sox in the Summer of 1988. None of the games in the Dome (with the exception of Game 163 last year) can compare with the outdoor baseball I saw yesterday.

Everything was perfect, the green grass, the smell of sausages grilling, the fauxback unis the Twins were wearing. Everything. Walking around the concourses, I thought "I have been missing out on this for 22 years, and now it's here". Not gonna lie, I got a little overwhelmed by it all...yep, thankfully I was wearing sunglasses.

But enough about my emotional state. It's time for a review of the ammenities. The food choices at the Dome sucked. The only thing other than a Dome Dog that kicked any sort of ass was the giant Chicago Dog that you had to be drunk as hell to order.

Target Field, on the other hand, has overwhelmingly awesome food at just about every consession stand. The group I was with did the old "buy a ton of shit and pass it around routine" so I got to try a bunch of stuff. My faves were the Cheese Curds (very similar to the ones at Miller Park) and the Vincent Burger (a Jucy Lucy stuffed with short ribs and smoked Gouda). The Vincent was 12 bucks, but may have been the most delicious "gimmick" burger I have ever had. The only drawback food wise was that the Schweigert Hot Dogs couldn't hold a candle to the Dome Dog.

The restrooms had no troughs, which was nice for a non-public peeer like myself. The only acceptable trough at the Target would have been a double sided joint like they have at Wrigley. Since they didn't go with that, the urinals will have to do.

Maybe the best change was the actual seats. At the Dome, a large American like myself would usually have to sit uber-spread eagle to avoid kneeing the person in front of him. Target Field gives much more leg and ass room, so there was no need to worry on my part about hitting the sexy MILF in front of me with an errant knee.

Out of the six other MLB stadiums I have visited (including the Dome), Target Field is the nicest. That's not just homerism either. The Target feels like it has always been there, nestled in its little corner of downtown, beckoning all with its charms.

Secret 90s Song of The Day

Continuing with the trend of songs that sound like they came out in 1988 but in all actuality were much, much later...I give you today's song.



This one will go into the category of "songs I totally forgot existed". Let the record state that I am a superfan of Go West's biggesst hit "King of Wishful Thinking". I mean, I would play that song every day if I could, and I got insanely jealous at my brother once for finding the 12" single at a thrift store.

Now if you are a fan of "King of Wishful Thinking" then you will be a fan of this song. Cause it's pretty much the same goddamn tune. The only difference is that instead of a danceable ode to never getting over some chick (possibly Julia Roberts?) "Faithful" is a dancable ode to being "faithful to a lover's prayer." What the fuck is a lover's prayer anyways? The cats from Go West never really elaborate on this, just that they will be faithful. Seems like sort of a cop out to me...

Go West hit #14 with this slice of cheez, which I think is a perfect chart placing. "King of Wishful Thinking" hit #8, so "Faithful" is almost the chart half life of the song it carbon copied. Fitting. If this song were a restaurant, it would be Arby's. Mediocre but strangely satisfying.

Secret 80s Song of the Day

If there is one thing that screams "Look at me motherfucker, I came out in 1987!" it's programmed electronic drums. Our pick for the day has them in spades.



Upon first glance, Breakfast Club looks like a cut rate Madness. "Where are the horns", you may ask? The answer is horns didn't sell anymore, it was all about programmed electronic drums good sir. It also appears that the band saw that Pee Wee's Playhouse was giant in 1987, so they filmed their video in a knockoff of his famous abode. Not too mention that the band had the same name as one of the biggest movies of the decade. This was one club of opportunists.

According to my gay lover Wikipedia, the Club also featured not only Randy "American Idol Dawg" Jackson as a member at one point but...wait for it...Madonna on drums. Yes, the Material Girl played fucking drums for this act at one point. No wonder they went with the electronic programmed skins for this juicy cut. It's not like Keith Moon was back there.

Anyways, this song reminds me of ads for dance clubs in hotel lobbies that had teen nights. It probably also got mad play at Skateland, seeing as how it is about dancing and being on track. If this song's cool could be personified by an 80s celeb, it would be Judd Nelson...stone cold, baby.

Record Show Journal 4/3/10

The Bi-Monthly Uptown VFW Record Show went down yesterday morning. As usual, there were a lot of people I wouldn't usually associate with other than the fact that they dig the licorice pizza as much as I do. Sadly, there were more hipsters than old smelly creeps this time. I have never seen so many tan cardigans outside of a repeat of Mister Rogers Neighborhood.

One tan cardigan douche hipster was arguing about Cocateau Twins records with some clown who had all his 12" records priced at like 20 bucks a pop (I mean, really, who would pay that much for a single of "Come On Eileen"?). King fucking hipster douche claimed he owned all the Cocateau Twins 12"ers, at which point I felt like interjecting "who the fuck cares? That band kinda blew anyways". But I just shut my fat mouth and continued looking for glam rock records.

ANYWAYS...I got some good finds there, at Cheapo, and at HPB today. The cream of the crop:

"Do You Wanna Get Funky With Me" by Peter Brown - This album cover contains the awesomest naked boob in album cover history. The damn thing is so perky...oh, and its got some disco jams that rule also.

"Emotional Rescue" by Englands Newest Hitmakers - Mainly bought it for Dance, but Dance Pt. II is way fucking better. More of the disco shit between the besties "Some Girls" and "Tattoo You".

"We Went to Different High Schools Together" by The Jaggerz - Donnie Irises first group, way more psychedelic than The Rapper would lead you to believe.

"Street Legal" by Robert Zimmerman - Minnesota native does pop album about Ponies and broads crying. Then he turns to Jesus. I didn't think the album was Messiah worthy.

"Knife" by Aztec Camera - 80s Brit Pop at its best.

Also picked up a late period Sly record I haven't listened to yet, a Roy Wood outtakes album, and some Hall and Oates (who never lie). Good time had by all who attended I believe.

Secret 90s Song of the Day

Moving on into the 1990s...which, at least until about 1994, didn't sound that much different from the late 1980s (at least in the pop realm). Sure, Nirvana and Pearl Jam were creating insanely personal music that owed more of a debt to the 70s than the 80s. But the records on CHR Radio owed a huge debt to, um, 1988. Listen to the following song and tell me what year you think its from:



Give up? 1993. If it weren't for Jeremy Jordan's Cross Colour inspiried wardrobe, this video coulda come from Rick Astley's debut album. I totally forgot about this joint and I am really ashamed to say it, but 5th grade Jake REALLY loved this song. I even remember the little factoid that Rick Dees used to introduce this song on the top 40: that Jeremy Jordan was homeless until this song hit big. Something tells me that by 1994, Mister Jordan was homeless again.

The song itself is the bastard son of a Michelob ad and the song "C'est La Vie" by Robbie Nevil. All computerized nonsense beats, cosmopolitan crooning, and a bit of a rap. I am sure the right kind of night involved a bottle of Cool Water colonge, a burnt orange silk shirt, and a chick who looked like Taylor Dayne.

Sadly, this song was dated by 1993 and Jeremy Jordan faded from popualrity after another single ("Wannagirl") that sounded even MORE dated than "The Right Kind of Love". Still, a great song from a time in my life when all that mattered was RPG battles with my GI Joes and riding my bike to Tom Thumb to buy Tahitian Treat.

Secret 80s Cut of the Day

Recently, I was presented with complete versions of the Billboard Hot 100 year end charts (in MP3 form) from 1980 to 1999. Unfortunately, this is pretty much all I have been listening to for the last two weeks. Fortunately, I am finding a lot of songs I blocked out of my memory, forgot about, or just plain never heard. For the next couple of weeks, I am going to present my loyal reader(s) with some of the cream of the crop. We're gonna start off with a #11 hit from 1986. Yes, here's some Toto.



Toto decided to become Chicago or something with this cut. The passion! The intensity! The McDonald! I remember hearing this joint many many times in the back seat of my parents Delta 88, probably being introduced by Dan Donovan on KS95 (when all KS95 played was supple ass jams like this and "No One Is To Blame" by Howard Jones). For all I know, this song could have played the time my parents took me to Children's Palace and said I could pick out any toy I wanted...and I picked out a Noid toy. I didn't avoid the Noid. But I digress...

I like to judge 80s wuss bullet ballads on a scale of supple. The most supple song of all time is "One More Night" by Phil Collins. It sounds as soft as a baby's ass feels. The suppleness of Toto's "I'll Be Over You" is improved by the Robert Horry of supple, Michael McDonald, singing backups. Yes Big Shot Mike only played for champs when he sang those backups, just like Horry. So if "One More Night" is a 10 on Moh's Scale of Supple, and "Slam" by Onyx is a 0, I give Toto's "I'll Be Over You" an 8.5 on the scale. The only way it could have improved its rating would have been more tinkling piano, and perhaps a 45 second tenor sax solo.

Ma-Ma-Ma-uer

So finally the Twins wrap up Big Baby Jesus for 23M a year. Not a bad investment in my opinion. He puts butts in the seats (in some cases, very cute, female butts) and his merch/celeb status probably makes the Twins nearly that a year in revenue. I saw the MLB The Show commercial 10+ times this weekend while watching the tourney.

Its funny to see the way the Twin Cities media is covering the signing though. WCCO ran a crawl during basketball to announce it, sort of like it was the hostages being freed or something. FOX9 spent damn near half their newscast with man on the street reactions and an interview with Al Newman! All in all though, there will be a lot of people in Minnesota, the Dakotas, and parts of Wisconsin who will sleep better tonight.

Spring Training, Etc.

When I moved into the new abode, the switch was made from Comcast Cable to Direct TV. On the whole, I enjoy Comcast more (more video channels and less infomercial channels). But Direct TV has all the sports networks (MLB, NHL, NBA and NFL) for free. And now that I have spent some time with it, the MLB Network is a must.

Also got Twins tickets for the April 17th game today vs Kansas City. I don't think I've been more amped up for a baseball season in years. While watching the preseason game against the Phillies, I realized that the Twins have a superhero style lineup. Thome, Morneau, Kubel, Cuddyer, Mauer, Span, Hudson...even throw Delmon Young into that batch, reluctantly. Damn this year is going to be fire.

Random thought of the day:
What happened to sundresses on girls? Are these cool anymore? My buddy and I were talking about how much we enjoyed a chick in a sundress the other day, and we asked both these questions. If sundresses aren't cool anymore, I think they need to be brought back.

Undertones-Get Over You

I have a wicked case of the flu this evening. On top of that, I STILL had to work a 10 hour day. Seeing this clip makes everything better though...

Top Ten PJ Songs (By Request)

Since you asked for it...here are my top ten Pearl Jam songs. In no particular order.

10."In My Tree" from No Code
9."Yellow Leadbetter" Single
8."Once" from Ten
7. "Satan's Bed" from Vitalogy
6. "Elderly Woman Behind The Counter In A Small Town" from Vs
5. "Breath" from Singles Soundtrack
4. "Jeremy" from Ten
3. "Betterman" from Vitalogy
2. "Rearviewmirror" from Vs
1. "Given To Fly" from Yield

This list was incredibly hard to come up with. Pearl Jam put out three consecutive discs of classic songs between 1991-1994. As for covers, I really enjoy the Baba O' Riley cover, as well as their "I Got You" cover.

Oscars 2010: Ain't Nothin Else On

Sunday night is a depressing night for yours truly. It usually consists of laundry and being pissed I have to work the next day. Also, all the good stuff on TV is usually done by 7PM.

This Sunday features the Springtime rite of passage called The Oscars. I usually have the Oscars on in the background, sort of like I did with the Olympics. A quick glance is all it usually merits. For some reason, I actually have been watching the telecast this year.

My personal highlight is always the death montage. This year the producers uped the ante by having creepy old uncle type James Taylor sing "In My Life" while the pics of dead celebs fly by. The "holy shit" moment for me was seeing that Ron Silver died. I guess there won't be a Timecop 2 anytime soon. Oh, and also how creepy Macaualy Culkin looks. Its like that little bastard never aged, only grew a little taller.

PS-Cindy Crawford is now hawking clothes for JC Penny. I just want to say, she still looks smokin'. Prince, if you are reading this, I think its time to write a "Cindy C II" post haste.

Spring All of Me

Quoth Homer Jay Simpson, "Lousy Smarch weather". I, for one, cannot wait for Spring to spring. Its a pretty magical time of the year, that Spring. I remember playing backyard baseball in February of 1991 (don't ask why) in 60 degree weather. Why in the hell can't we have that this year? Sure the sun feels nice, but I want it all!

Spring seems to be the time of the year when the entertainment industry comes out of its doldrums and releases some fi-ah. The spring of 1996 seems particularly vivid to me, as I can recall the videos for "Always Be My Baby" by Mariah Carey, "Big Me" by Foo Fighters and "1979" by the Smashing Pumpkins being on regularly. Unfortunately, I don't see "Blah Blah Blah" by Ke$ha an 3Oh!3 igniting my passions like those ditties did.

Oh well, at least we have "Hot Tub Time Machine" to look forward to. Cusack! The dude who plays Daryl on The Office! A Hottub! Magic I tells ya. Magic.

Don't Call It A Comeback....

So, for some reason, Blogger wouldn't accept my last two posts...anyways, I'm back bitches.

The last month has been hectic as all hell. I worked 19 days in a row due to the fact that half the Wendy's in the MPLS area wanted digital menu boards installed ASAP. Easily the biggest project I ever had to work on. Also, during that rollout, I moved into my new digs on the south side of BP. Well, technically not my digs, my bro and his ladyfriends digs, but you get the drift.

I also bought a 160 GB iPod and a 1.5 TB external hard drive. So I'm in the process of re-loading all my discs onto that bastard. Its giving me a great excuse to rediscover some tunes that slipped through the cracks (ie "Allison's Starting to Happen" by the Lemonheads).

I will try to update this monster more frequently in the coming weeks. Work has slowed to a more manageable pace, and I'm almost settled in now. So, with the exception of three nights of softball this summer, it's gonna be back to normal for old Jakey Poo.

The Cuts!(The 68 Comeback Special Edition)
-"My Girls" - Animal Collective
-"Be Mine!" - Robyn
-"Everything Hits at Once" - Spoon
-"Pure" - The Lightning Seeds
-"Race" - Prince

Jake Day 2010

So I took the day off today because I had all the confidence in the world that the Vikes would make the Super Bowl. Seeing as how that didn't pay off, I had a Jake Day. I decided to get a ton of shit done instead of the usual sitting around and surfing the net for interesting bullshit. Here's what I accomplished:

10 AM - Went to Cheapo. Bought my brother "The Ramones" for his birthday, along with "Sally Can't Dance" by Lou Reed, "Mr. Tambourine Man" by The Byrds, and NOW 15 from England (which I promptly put up on eBay, hoping to get more than the 10 bucks I paid for it).

10:45 AM - Went to Best Buy to by my brother some group called Billy Talent for his birthday. Also bought a Full Throttle.

11:15 AM - Ate 2 Maxwell Polishes from Chris and Rob's. Instantly remembered how fucking kickass Chris and Rob's is.

1 PM - Took the Focus in for a tune up. Had to put a new tire on.

1:15 PM - Went to GameStop. Was shocked that the hipster chick working behind the counter was sort of punky cute. Bought FIFA 07 and the Ghostbusters game.

2:30 PM - Got the Focus back, with $120 less in my pocket.

All in all, probably the most productive day I have had in months. Hooray me.

Chart of Glass

I have been following the Billboard Charts since I was really, really little. I remember listening to Casey Kasem when I was in grade school, and cutting out the top ten lists from the Star Tribune every Sunday. So when Billboard published a column on famous songs that had lower than expected chart positions, I was enthralled.

I would have never guessed that "Zombie Nation" (aka the OH OH WHOA OH OH song they play at sporting events) would have only went to #99.

http://www.billboard.com/charts#/column/chartbeat/taking-peaks-part-4-nos-25-1-1004062209.story

Jake Eickholt, Vikings Fan, 1987-2010

I am done. That was it. It's not even homerism, or anger, or whatever. I officially am a free agent NFL fan. I cannot take this shit anymore. Seriously, 4 NFC title games in my lifetime, 4 heartbreaking losses. And we are done in by Favre doing the same motherfucking, god-damned thing he did for years (up until this season): throw a fucking "gunslinging" pick at a crucial moment in a game. Did it in the Super Bowl against the Broncos, did it in the NFC title game against the Giants. Did it again this year.

I'm open to suggestions, ideas, whatever you will throw at me. I could take up the English Premeir League, or jai ali or something like that. Whatever it is, I cannot take this shit anymore. I just can't. It's not worth my mental health, my well-being, or my sanity. Fuck this shit.

Skol, Vikings

I am a ball of nerves right now. In less than six hours, the Vikings will stroll into the Superdome to play (New) America's Team for the NFC Championship and the right to go to the Superbowl.

The other three NFC title games during my lifetime were, as the brahskis like to say, epic fails. Darrin Nelson drops a swing pass, Gary Anderson pulls a field goal and the entire Vikings team is replaced with the Champlin Park High School JV squad in Giants Stadium. That's where we stand. I was told by a friend that we know how this story is going to end this year. Here's to hoping that it won't end with me as a puddle on the ground, surrounded by half eaten Checker's wings and empty Schell's bottles.

I can't even predict this one...I just can't put any sort of gris-gris hex on the Purp. I will go out on a limb and say The J-E-T-S, J-E-T-S, Jets beat the Colts 17-13 in Indy today in the early game. Let's hope that Prince really did see "the future" when he wrote that Vikings song though.

Wizzard (Roy Wood) - See My Baby Jive

A perfect song, sung by a guy who looks like a cross between Rob Zombie and Gandalf. And what's that...a motherfucking French Horn solo?!?! Who cares what the hell "See My Baby Jive" means. This is manna from the gods.

Best Singles of the Last Decade (Part 2)

Arcade Fire-Rebellion (Lies)
THE anthem on a whole album full of anthems

LCD Soundsystem-Daft Punk Is Playing In My House
How did this one dude in Brooklyn get Daft Punk to play his house? Did they charge a fee? Even if all the furniture was in the garage, how many people could attend? I WANT ANSWERS!

Damian Marley-All Night
Now we all know what a killer party song by Bob Marley would have sounded like.

Radiohead-There There
Radiohead at their most non Paranoid Androidic.

Get Up Kids-Hannah Hold On
"When its over its over for sure"...ouch.

Flaming Lips-Fight Test
If something is worth fighting for, you better do it. Words to live by. Also, the theme song for the awesome MTV show “3 South”.

The Decemberists-We Both Go Down Together
The gayest, best song R.E.M. never had a chance to write.

At The Drive In-Invalid Letter Department
One of the few political songs of the decade that resonated (at least with me). Before this came out, I had no idea there was a serial killer in Juarez targeting Mexican women.

Alien Ant Farm-Movies
You’d think that the “relationship as a movie” cliché couldn’t be made fresh. AAF proved that wrong with this monster.

Weezer-Dope Nose
Two of the most awesome Weezer lines ever in “Fag of the year/who can beat up your man” and “Cheese tastes so good/ On a burnt piece of lamb”.

Electric Six-Danger! High Voltage
Fire in the disco! Fire in the Taco Bell! You know why they keep starting fires? Desire! YESSSSSSSSS!

Lily Allen-Smile
Oh Lily, you cheeky little monkey! You go ahead and scratch that wanker’s records!

New Pornographers-Sing Me Spanish Techno
Nonsensical lyrics…but that beat!

Tom Petty-Flirting With Time
The king of the South, getting all pastoral and lamenting the passage of time.

Taking Back Sunday-A Decade Under The Infuence
A kickass little emo song, until you realize it’s about the lead singer’s wife having an affair. With the lead guitarist.

Coheed and Cambria-A Favor House Atlantic
Like Rush 2K, all whiny vocals and awesome hair and riffage by the ton.

Gnarls Barkley-Crazy
A transcendant pop moment that Gnarls Barkley could come nowhere near matching.

Raconteurs- Steady as She Goes
The combo of Brendan Benson and Jack White works like PB&J on this one

Beck-Lost Cause
As sad as “Lost Cause” was, it felt like it’s just the beginning of Beck's dark night of the soul at the end of the song.

Pulp-Bad Cover Version
Jarvis Cocker at his arch best, lamenting that his ex picked a “bad cover version” of him. Sort of like “Planet of the Apes on TV”.

Dead Prez-Hip Hop
A song that urged the murder of “crackers in city hall” and somehow got played on MTV. Strangely loved by white dudes.

Interpol-C’Mere
Any song that scored an “Entourage” three-way deserves to make this list

Lil Jon-Get Low
All whistles, coming, panty lines and sweaty balls. An X-rated “Shake Your Booty” for a genreration that never had a chance.

Talib Kweli-Get By (Remix)
If the ’27 Yankees recorded a remix, it would be this. With a rookie Kanye West being Lou Gehrig, and Hov being self proclaimed Great Bambino, of course.

Jimmy Eat World-Work
“All the best DJs are playing the slowest songs for last”. Words to live by.

Jimmy Eat World-The Middle
The “Keep Ya Head Up” for the emo teens.

Wilco-Heavy Metal Drummer
Playing KISS covers, beautiful and stoned in the summer by the water…to quote and old beer ad, “it doesn’t get any better than this.”

Wilco-Spiders (Kidsmoke)
First it’s all prog-rock (or the “Newton’s Apple” Theme) then it fucking rocks like Alice Cooper. Bi-polarness at its best.

Ryan Adams-La Cierga Just Smiled
Sadly beautiful

Clipse-Grindin
Back in the day when Pharrell and coke rap were novel concepts.

Spoon-The Way We Get By
Breaking into mobile homes, getting high. Sounds like a fun night in Coon Rapids…

Andrew WK-Party Hard
Dude was so fierce that he smashed his face with a brick! His party was one that always came hard

White Stripes-Hotel Yorba
Shit kicking front porch music on a Saturday night music.

White Stripes-Seven Nation Army
The opening riff will forever live in infamy.

The Strokes-12:51
The best new single of 1981.

Third Eye Blind-Never Let You Go
So summery, so poppy, so perfect. Floats into your head and never lets you go.

Kings of Leon-The Bucket
Ah young love! Um, at least that is what I think it’s about…

Kings of Leon-Sex On Fire
You know a song has made it when brahskis play an acoustic cover at a sports bar. Yep, it happened, but it somehow didn’t diminish the power of “Sex On Fire”.

The Hold Steady-Little Hoodrat Friend
Craig Finn, you lied! You did get with the little hoodrat. I gotta admit though, she did sound easy and sort of fun.

The Hold Steady-Killer Parties
Just what did Charlemange do? And it really sounds like Ybor City knows how to get down.

Kings of Leon-Knocked Up
A Southern Gothic “Young Turks” that seems too short at 7 minutes

Eminem-Lose Yourself
If this doesn’t get you amped, nothing will. Also, no references to killing women! How novel.

OutKast-Miss Jackson
Best sample of “Here Comes The Bride” ever. Maybe the only one, too. Of course, Andre plays the sweetheart while Big Boi discusses how his member is in a mouth.

Joe-I Wanna Know
A song so undeniably pretty, so syrupy sweet, so old school loverman perfect it’s undeniable.

MGMT-Electric Feel
All blissed out beats and baby girls who shock like electric eels. Where is this place?

The Futureheads-Hounds of Love
Best Kate Bush cover. Ever.

Paul Westerberg-As Far As I Know
“I’m in love with someone who doesn’t exist.” We all are, Paul. We all are.

The Game-Wouldn't Get Far
Love em and leave em. Did you know video "vixens" drive Honda Accords? True story. Thanks The Game!

Modest Mouse-Float On
An anthem of our generation? Yes sir.

Death Cab For Cutie-Expo 86
The coolest Expo themed pop culture moment since Bart and Millhouse trashed the SunSphere.

Death Cab For Cutie-The Sound of Settling
Settling never sounded so earnest.

Death Cab For Cutie-Crooked Teeth
Lamenting drunken crushes and the beauty of it all…

Queens of The Stone Age-In The Fade
QTOSA gets all wistful about death or something with a former Screaming Tree and one hell of a guitar riff.

Queens of the Stone Age-No One Knows
According to my dad, it sounded like “Alabama Song” by the Doors. According to me, it rocked hard as hell.

Deftones-Change (In The House of Flies)
The crowning moment in the career of one Chino Moreno.

Jay-Z-Girls Girls Girls
Best punchline of the decade…the Chinese girl kept bootlegging his shit.

Jay-Z-Roc Boys
Speech! Also beat the Black Eyed Peas to the punch with the whole Jewish toasting thing in a rap song by almost 2 years…

The Killers-When You Were Young
Bigger than the Wild West and more exciting than a hurricane.

The Killers-Somebody Told Me
A song about androgynous love, by a married Mormon dude.

Dr. Dre-The Next Episode
Fucker made us wait 7 years. Damn, it was worth it.

Snoop Dogg-Drop It Like Its Hot
More acapella than “Don’t Worry Be Happy”. Also twice as badass.

Justin Timberlake-Like I Love You
MJ turned this one down to come with “You Rock My World”. Um, way to launch a career Mike.

Kaiser Chiefs-You Can Have It All
Brit pop lives!

Ghostface Killah-Childz Play
For those who didn’t hump the pillow when you were young, Ghostface has some words for you…

Nas-Ether
Jay-Z won the popularity battle, but my god, did Nas win the war.

OK GO-There’s A Fire
How this song was not on Nick Gilder’s debut album is beyond me. Killer new wave pop.

UGK/OutKast-International Players Anthem
Built around one of the most killer samples of all time, it was like a tag team royal rumble of awesome where everybody claimed the strap.

The Roots/Cody ChesnuTT-The Seed 2.0
Sheer fire. Rap, rock, R n B all in one package.

The Dream-Shawty is The Shit!
The Dream is fat, he likes girls who make him pancakes and grits and all that pimp shit. Oh yay-er!

HAL-Plays The Hits
The Beach Boys would have murdered someone for this gem. Or at least had Uncle Charlie and his Fam do some damage…

AND NOW...THE NUMBER ONE SONG OF THE LAST TEN YEARS!

R. Kelly – Ignition (Remix)
We just lived through a pretty pitiful decade. Two wars, the economy is in the shitter, American Idol, Brahski culture, 9/11, etc. Wasn’t it nice when you didn’t have to think about shit like that? When all you had to do was, “bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce, bounce” and think of the freakin’ weekend? And ride that beat that was lighter than Jell-o salad?

Best Singles of the Last Decade (Part 1)

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Best Albums of the Last Decade (Part 2)

#26 Common-Be
Common at his poppiest, and at his best lyrically. Even at the time, it felt like there was nowhere to go but down for Com (well, “Finding Forever” was pretty swell, but you saw the cracks). Too bad it was true…but at least we have the genius of “The Food” and “They Say”.

#25 Coup-Party Music
Raps “Communist Manifesto”. The funkiest song ever about murdering capitalists (“5 Million Ways to Kill a CEO”) and the best love jam about a woman lying about being your baby mama (“Nowalaters”). An album Castro would rock out to.

#24 Ghostface Killah - Supreme Clientele
A nice balance of crime pays raps and childhood whimsy done in the GFK way.

#23 OutKast - Speakerboxx/The Love Below
More than just "Hey Ya!", this disc would have made it on the sheer charisma of Andre 3000 alone. Throw in Big Boi's disc, and you've got a killer.

#22 Deftones-White Pony
Quite possibly the only album from the “Nu-Metal” genre that actually matters almost ten years later. The reason for this was variety. Songs like “Change” and “Teenager” had more depth than say, Linkin Park or Korn. And who can really deny the awesomeness of a song called “Knife Party”?

#21 Jay-Z The Black Album
A monster. From the all black cover, to the black backed disc, to Rick Rubin telling Jay-Z to go hard about his problems. It was understood that his problem wasn’t a bitch (seriously, Beyonce a problem?) nor was it finding the perfect beat (“Lucifer” and “Dirt Off Your Shoulder” spring to mind). The only problem was that The Black Album felt like the perfect career closer, an A plus. Jay-Z would make competent music again, but nothing like this.

#20 Green Day-Warning
Green Day did a 180 with “Warning” and decided that The Kinks were awesome. They made a good choice, because the title track and “Church on Sunday” stand up as two of the best rock songs of the last ten years. They would go back to their roots with their next album, but for one shining moment, Green Day flashed back to the garage.

#19 Death Cab For Cutie-Transatlanticism
Never has there been so much longing on one disc. I have probably played “Expo ‘86” 200 times since I bought this album back in 2004, and “I am waiting for something to go wrong/I am waiting for familiar results” never fails to make my heart twinge. Oh, and settling never sounded so pretty, with its bah-bah chorus.

#18 Kanye West - Graduation
Tighter and less sprawling than his previous two albums, "Graduation" wallops with sheer fire cuts such as "The Good Life" and "Champion".

#17 Ben Kweller-Sha Sha
When this album came out, the way I described it to friends was “Billy Joel meets Weezer”. Rockers like “Commerce, TX” and “Wasted and Ready” were power pop gems and the album closer “Falling” would have been right at home on “52nd Street”.

#16 Pearl Jam-S/T
The men of Pearl spent most of the decade in a holding pattern, releasing subpar discs with a few good songs on each. Then the “Avocado” album dropped, and all was forgiven. Avocado rocked harder than any other Pearl Jam disc (yes, that includes “Ten”) and switched the political focus from one man (Dubbya) to the ills of war and unemployment.

#15 Queens of the Stone Age-Rated R
Musically, it sounds like a bad trip through the desert. Then you listen to the absolute depth of lyrics. Just kidding, the lyrics are all bad trip mindfucks. “Feel Good Hit of The Summer” had only seven drugs referenced in the lyrics. “Monster In The Parasol” was, according to the band, about “Fuckin’ on E”. Strange that high school stoners didn’t make this the new “Dark Side of the Moon”.

#14 Vampire Weekend – S/T
If one album of the last couple of years deserves to be ridiculed, it may be this one. Ironic Lil John references, check. World music leanings, check. But somehow it lives up to the ungodly hype (the cover of SPIN before the album even came out) with pop gems like “The Kids Don’t Stand a Chance” and “A-Punk”.

#13 The Hold Steady-Separation Sunday
Everyone listening had an inkling that Holly was the Hoodrat, but the journey to how the listener finds this out is the real treat. Who knew that a concept album about losing yourself and finding your own personal resurrection could rock so fucking hard?

#12 At The Drive In-Relationship of Command
A very diverse set for a band that was labeled punk at the time. One Armed Scissor was the big hit, but the song that matters most is “Invalid Letter Dept.”, a quasi ballad about the disappearances of women along the US-Mexican border. Also a perfect example of the sum being better than its parts, as the two bands that came out of ATDI (Sparta and Mars Volta) were very inconsistent.

#11 Weezer-Green Album
The anticipation for this album was like nothing I have ever experienced. “Where did they go?” “Did you hear that Rivers guy was in an asylum or something?” Then “Hash Pipe” dropped (I heard it for the first time on some alt station while crossing the Skyway Bridge in St.Petersburg my senior year) and the true believers knew something interesting was going to happen. Interesting turned out to be “Photograph” and “Island in the Sun” which would have sat fine on The Blue Album.

#10 The Streets-A Grand Don’t Come for Free
If there is one album that needs to be made into a movie from the last decade, it would be “A Grand Don’t Come For Free” (Well, maybe this and “Separation Sunday”). It’s a day in the life of a bloke, a day where this bloke does a shit load of drugs, drinks a lot, cheats on his woman, loses his woman, etc. Sure the ending of the story is a little convoluted (really, how could all that money fall into the back of a TV?) but like any great story, it’s the journey that interests, not the ending.

#9 Lyrics Born-Later That Day
The best party album of the decade. Later That Day was a rap album but played more like some 70s party funk shit, rocking the casbah with “Callin Out” and “Bad Dreams.” LB even gives you something for the end of the party (super love jam “Love Me So Bad”).

#8 White Stripes-White Blood Cells
True story. I brought this album over to a friend’s house the day I bought it (based on the “Hotel Yorba” video on MTV the night before). I also had bought “The Guest” by Phantom Planet the same day. The buddy made me take out the White Stripes, saying that they sucked. Guess what album has gotten more play in the last seven years?

#7 Killers-Sams Town
Most critics bust metaphorical nuts over the dance heavy “Hot Fuss”. Most critics are wrong. Sam’s Town slays the other Killers albums released this decade because of the raw emotion it conveys. Sure, the lyrics about Grandma Dixie’s wake and reading minds seem a little corny, but they are delivered with some Springsteen-esqe heart. And, how fucking great is “When You Were Young” still three years after its release?

#6 The Shins-Chutes Too Narrow
Like "Transatlanticism", an album that signaled a sea-change in music and culture right before the Bush-Kerry showdown (hey, the indie kids are owning it). The first album may have changed Zach Braff’s life, but Chutes was more consistent. Tracks like “Kissing The Lipless” and “Turn a Square” had some mighty vague lyrics (“Tennis shorts made of stripes”?) but the music let you in on the secrets the words did not.

#5 Jimmy Eat World-Bleed American
The most Emo of the emo, but not in a bad way, “Bleed American” (later retitled Jimmy Eat World due to 9/11) felt like young love and hope, with a bit of classic nostalgia thrown in for good measure. “The Middle” went top 5 and was on “Kidz Bop!” but the lyric that sums up the album is from “If You Don’t, Don’t.” “We once walked down on the beach/and once I almost touched your hand”. Now if you don’t feel a heart twitter from that, well, my friends you have never been emo.

#4 The Strokes- Is This It?
The death knell for shitty rap rock acts, "Is This It?" ushered in a new era of rockin that looked toward the past for a glimpse into the future. Oh yeah, and it was also really really fun. I can remember where I was when I saw the video for "Last Nite" (my parents basement) and I can remember what I was thinking ("these guys are going to take over the world"). Too bad it didn't happen like that, but for one shining moment post 9/11, The Strokes brought it.

#3 Jay-Z-The Blueprint
AKA “Kanye West’s Rookie Card.” Mister West produced three of the most classic on an album of classics (“Takeover”, “Izzo (H.O.V.A)” and “Heart of the City”) and put himself on the map while elevating Jigga to new heights. To quote Jay-Z himself, this album was so motherfuckin soulful.

#2 Kings Of Leon-Aha Shake Heartbreak
The greasiest, nastiest, most bored album of the decade. There’s gonna be a fight, someone would come all over your party if he could if that damn coke would wear off, and there will be a king of the rodeo at the gathering. In the middle of it all, a hit single about love and premature baldness. Who knew they would sell out the Garden? Who KNEW?

#1 The Hold Steady-Boys and Girls In America
Ah yes, the album of the decade. What can be said about an album that crams so many things into so little space? Craig Finn has the undeniable ability to make you care about the characters he created, a trait that he shares with Dylan and Springsteen. Some may say that I rate this album of the decade due to the fact that I know some of the things Finn speaks on (I worked at the Northtown Mall for three years, I currently spend 50 hours a week Southtown, I have a semi-intimate knowledge of Osseo) but that is not the case. It’s the music, the muscle bound guitar, the keyboards. It’s the stories (Why didn’t the dude at the Chillout Tent get that girls number? Is there really a girl who knows the winners of every horse race? How did those two fuckups win Prom King and Queen?). The Hold Steady speak on truths, on hope, on America viewed through the eyes of a nice Catholic boy from Edina. The perfect storm of story, music and lack of pretense was just what was needed by me (and I can only assume others) in a pretty awful era. And that is why Boys And Girls in America is the album of the decade.