Posts Tagged ‘cats’

Just One Drop

Wednesday, July 7th, 2010

A “drop” back in the old, old, OLD days meant that you put the needle on the record one time and the client decided right then and there, on one drop and 15 seconds of music if the song was right. Sadly, I remember those days. However, now in the days of free license and the Internet, this isn’t so much an issue.

Sadly, every day “real world” distractions have kept me busy. Here are some real world “drop” plays that have made an impression. I have literally bought entire albums off of one track. It’s not at all common these days. Unfortunately, I remember a time when one single track could sell an entire album, sight unseen. Here’s a few to tide you over. Enjoy, and remember that I’m only doing this because I love you and want the best for you…

I don’t know about you, but I have no desire to NOT leave Alabama. I first saw this music on “Animidnight” on PBS in the United States. San Francisco Academy of Arts students made a video depicting an under water monorail traveling through the ocean with this music as its backdrop. It left an impression that would last forever. Thank you.

I can’t say I bought this album sight unseen. I heard the song, “Shittowne” in a friend’s car. I said, “Well, where do the crack heads live?” She replied, “Down the street from him.” I’ll be damned if she wasn’t 100% accurate. It wasn’t the best song from this album. I think this was, although that subject was and still is debatable. I bought an album based on this song. Good job, Live. (Homies from York, PA, close enough for jazz, as far as I’m concerned.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rZv9R-KWcJM

This is one that rivals the “Alabama Blues” for the mostest, bestest song EVER. I love Tricky Kid, and this is the finest of his repertoire. Are you ready? I wasn’t, fell in love, and have been smitten ever since. Yes, I bought the album “Blue Lines” based solely on this song. I hadn’t heard any other tracks. Although now, I must say that “Be Thankful For What You’ve Got” is one of the best remakes EVER.

I used to live in northern Virginia, well before it became Depressistan.

All “proud Southerner and okay with the KKK” connections aside, I was a normal person who didn’t support the Confederate movement working in DC and living in N. VA after this song came out. I drove the Beltway every day and went to work like a good, non-cynical person. Oh, how times have changed. Anyway, the city at 5:00 a.m. is beautiful and lightly lighted like something out of Blade Runner. This song captures that in music. Congratulations, Postal Service. Oh, and “Give Up” is one of the mostest, bestest albums of all time. Check it out.

Okay, my bad. Sign in, and see the uncensored version of this Klassic. I bought an entire album based on this. Of course, it helps that I’m no stranger or mere voyeur in the bondage department. The album was, well…abrasive. I grew to love this strange, angry man from Pennsylvania (just like me). We have both mellowed out with time, as you will see. In the mean time, enjoy this total klassic, complete with crucified monkey, and then we’ll chat afterward.

So, I have but to assume you’re not completely uptight and hypocritical if you’re still with me right now. I bought “The Downward Spiral” based on that album. I have to point out, that as a reptile rescuer; I’m not impressed with the selection of reptiles and amphibians appearing in that video. The rest is history. I don’t want you to think that every impulse purchase is based on banal sexual desire though. There’s this serious lapse in judgment:

Oh yeah, we were all on board with that. That is, until we found out that the rest of the album sucked donkey swangers. I bounced back. I sold that bitch back at Rasputin ASAP. Don’t drink and listen. I have to admit, I lived in New York once. I live in Norcal NOW. I’ll stay soft and pinko commie thanks.

I have had slip-ups. I also have complete dead-on-balls hits. This is one hit that I will never regret:

I found this at a time when I was particularly down in my life, and watching this realized I could be so much more. It made me hope for the time when, like Star Trek, we could beam to other star systems with the blink of an eye, or at least visit them in the holodeck. The rest of the album is about the nuclear holocaust and the attitude of those that survived it. You should check it out.

Okay, a few seconds to revisit NIN. He’s mellowed out over the past 15 years, as have you. I bought an entire album off of this track, and have yet to regret it. There are some definite low points on this purely digital work, however, they pale in comparison to this gem beyond great price:

The last YouTube offering I have to dish out is the mostest, bestest video EVER. I bought this album based on this song. My mistake. The album isn’t that good; however, this video is over-the-top irresistible. If you don’t like cats, well, fuck you. I don’t have time to therapist out your “cats are too close to humans and therefore I hate them” complex. If you hate, torture or God forbid, kill cats, there’s a special place in hell reserved for you. For those of us who are compassionate humans, I give you this. This is the only video known to bring active joy and laughter to my heart. Enjoy, and remember I love you…

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Onigoroshi

Wednesday, June 30th, 2010

The Demon Slayer. True Dat.

Your eyes aren’t playing tricks on you, unless of course you’re already three sheets to the wind. This demon has four eyes. Now, for those of you tuning in from an English speaking country, or somewhere in the Western Hemisphere, I need to point out that in Eastern religions demons aren’t necessarily a bad thing. They can be either good or evil depending on their actions and intentions. Demon is a generic term for any supernatural being. We tend to not be so lucky in the Western world. Our demons and dragons generally do NOT bode well for us. That having been said, my focus right now is not on the odd looking dude on the front of that bottle. My focus is on what’s in the bottle.

You see, this is Onigoroshi Sake. Onigoroshi is a brand name; I’m not sure which particular variety is in this bottle. I guess I could attempt to read what little English is there, but it hardly seems worth it. No, I’m focusing on the overall purpose of this bottle. You see, this bottle of sake is the “Demon Slayer.” At first I wondered how sake could end up being the demon slayer. Then I realized that sake, like all alcoholic beverages, kills a lot of demons.

Except for that bastard. Seriously, he’s taking full advantage of being immortal and completely incomprehensible. Douchebag.

No, I’m talking about the demons that alcohol can kill. I always joke about how alcohol is the sacred tears of heaven. I wish it wasn’t. On a side note, why can’t cake, pie and ice cream be the things that ease awkward conversations, kill pain and make you forget that you have an asshole landlord? They would be completely omnipotent if they could do that AND have no calories. Damn that cake.

Fuck you, you useless, calorie-laden bastard. Can’t you at least have some anesthetic quality?

I think about the demon haunted world often. No, you’re absolutely right. I’m not a religious person and don’t think about demons in the traditional religious sense. However, every day I’m confronted by various demons. The demons tell me that I’m not smart or talented enough to compose an intelligent thesis. The demons in the media that tell me I’m not thin enough, beautiful enough or young enough to be of worth to society. The demons of regret, fear and self-doubt plague those hours of insomnia at night. These are the real demons. We should fear them. These are the true destroyers.

Yes, this is what the interior of your mind looks like. The only thing that’s missing is your greatest fear painted right on the front there.

There’s nothing like a full bottle of the demon slayer to shut that shit right up. It also helps with the pain of severe arthritis, which is more than you can say for ibuprofen or Tylenol. What’s in the bottle kills the demons lurking in your mind. This is absolutely true. You lose brain cells with each binge drinking episode you engage in. Lose enough and you won’t remember a damn thing. Drink long enough and you end up in rehab or the Alzheimer’s ward. Of course, if you lose just enough brain cells the doubt just slips away quietly in the night. That’s the problem. Right now I don’t have doubts so much as the overwhelming feeling there is too much work to be done between the lab and the move.

Ever have a day where you just feel like that? Well, try it for over 20 years then call me.

I’ll be relying on the demon slayer from time to time. There’s over a liter and a half in there, so it could take a while. That’s fine; I’m in this for the long haul. Not the actual move really, that’s just a few blocks away. No, I’m talking about finishing my lab notes, writing up a thesis, moving my house, re-folding an unknown protein, testing the results, getting my family through yet another medical crisis, playing full-time aunt and babysitter and taking the time out to walk the dog twice a day.

This little bastard can pretty much take care of himself, except for the box. I wonder if it’s possible to teach him how to use the toilet.

Thank whoever’s out there for small favors. Cats are pretty much self-sufficient. I just have to throw some food at them and hope for the best. They’re pretty grateful little bastards. They even bought me a present at the liquor store the other day thanks to their fake ID’s. Now, I know what you’re thinking, because I’m curious too. Who the hell sells a cat a fake ID? I don’t know, but I need to hook up with that bitch. In the mean time, let me take a look at this…

Now that’s just wrong, man.

I guess it was one of those, “I bought it for you, but if you don’t like it, I’ll gladly keep it,” kind of things. Damn cats. Hey, furbags, hand your old lady that big bottle over there. I need a little demon slayer to wash the taste of that shit out. Cheers!

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Posted in The Demon Haunted World | 2 Comments »

Space Hog

Monday, June 21st, 2010

I know what you’re thinking as you read that title. I would probably think the exact same thing if I wasn’t the person writing this.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M9AWGc0d8ik

Nope, I’m not talking about those guys. It is a pretty cool song, though, you must admit. Klassic one-hit wonder there. No, I’m talking about this little space hog:

He only looks cute up to the point where he tries to eat you. The kitten thinks of nothing but murder all day.

This is my cat Thor!. Believe it or not, that was not a hiccup in punctuation. His name is Thor! Don’t you wish you had a punctuation mark as part of your name too? Sure you do. It’s an instant conversation starter.

Thor! Kitten of Thunder

Oh, yes, he’s quite the looker. I got him at the pound when he was all of four months old and approximately one-half pound. Now he’s about 18 pounds—that ain’t no itty bitty kitty. I wouldn’t mind so much, but he’s a bed hog. Oh, yes, that furry little bastard decided that he needs the lion’s share of a king size bed. He insists on taking up his half of the middle, the sides, the foot and any place you want to move during the night. He likes to cuddle. I’m not just saying that in the overly-attached crazy cat lady way. The little fucker has to keep his body pressed up against you at all times. He takes it rather personally if you want to move during the night. He has no sense of humor about this, and will gladly dig in his claws if he feels you’re moving out of turn (which is all the time, according to him).

He's laying right on top of her. I need to point out that she literally weighs half of what he does.

See that? It’s not just me; it’s everyone in the house. He likes having somebody to spoon with. The dog doesn’t like it, but she will put up with it as long as I’m around. If I leave, she immediately departs from his radius. This cat is a class “A” space invader.

Not a space invader in the classic sense of the term.

It wasn’t so bad having him around and occasionally sleeping on top of me when he was a baby. It’s bad now. I’m talking about having a furry little space hog that weighs 18 pounds muscling his way around the bed at night. Sometimes he leaves just long enough to get a snack and come back. (Yes, I’m aware that I probably over feed him.) Try having 18 pounds stomping across your stomach in the middle of the night or snuggling in on top of your back. I can get winded from just laying still. I can’t explain to the chiropractor why my back is constantly messed up. But that’s not the only thing. Thor! likes to sleep on the pillows from time to time. It can be a person’s worse nightmare to wake up with a cat ass two inches from your face. Scratch ‘n sniff, everybody.

Now you're just insulting me, cat.

He takes up approximately ¾ of the bed when he wants. I think he sticks out his tongue and extends his tail just to add insult to injury. When you can’t move, or wake up to cat ass wafting through your nostrils only to roll over and get a face full of hair as you work your way across the pillow, the night becomes way too fucking long. Oh well, at least I can live with the knowledge that it will all be over at 5:30 a.m., when a scene similar to this occurs like clockwork:

Damn cat.

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