First off, if you're a fan of Nine Inch Nails, Trent Reznor has made his latest album available as a free download, just go to this link:
http://theslip.nin.com/
I'm giving it my first listen-through right now, and am liking it a lot. And you can't beat the price.
This past weekend was a quick, but very fun, time spent in Minneapolis. And while my camera sucks, (not to mention I forgot to put in fresh batteries), H and Whiskey snapped off a few. Check out their blogs to see some of the action, and check out H's post at Three Pints for more about Kate Nash.
The Kate Nash show was great, I really enjoyed the opening band, the Trachtenberg Family Slideshow Players. The family (dad Jason on guitar/keyboard/vocals, mom Tina on the slide projector, and 14-year-old daughter Rachel on drums) basically goes to estate sales, buy old slide photography, and write songs based around them. A lot of bands use a video aspect to their live shows to supplement their sound, (like the Faint, the previously mentioned NIN, Project Jenny, Project Jan, to name a few I've seen in concert), but this is the first instance I'm aware of where the band uses the audio and video in such an intertwined level. To get the full enjoyment out of their performance, here's a couple of their videos
Look at Me (from Conan, with a few slides removed for network TV purposes. I'm not sure if it's better or not. . . )
Don't You Know What I Mean?
Now these videos are a few years old, so Rachel is a few years older now. And Jim still didn't want me to go get her number for him.
These videos don't really do them justice, I was blown away by them, it was awesome. At first I didn't think I'd buy their schtick, but damn if they didn't win me over.
I flew (yes, flew) to Minneapolis, after finding tickets that were cheaper than it would have been for me to drive, and saved me about 13 hours driving (round trip), and a lot of wear and tear on my car. Rudy can't put up with too much more, so I gotta take it easy on him while I can, until I find a new ride. But don't tell him about that.
Anyways, I flew on Midwest Airlines. Holy crap. It was amazing. When I got on the plane for my first flight of the day (Midwest is based out of Milwaukee, so I had a stop there each way), there was classical music playing on the speakers, and (relatively) large leather seats as far as the eye could see. They were incredibly comfortable for plane seats, and even left me with a couple of inches on either side. Plus a middle armrest that was about 5 inches wide. No elbow fights with the neighbor for space! And plenty of legroom.
My favorite part, though, was getting freshly baked cookies. Not just one, but two on each flight! And on my first flight, an older lady was sitting next to me, didn't want her cookies, so she gave them to me! AND everyone got a little bag of pretzels. And drink service. C'est incroyable! I would definitely recommend this airline to anyone if it's available (and comparably priced to other airlines). Lucky for me, KC is one of their hubs. Rock.
So it was an awesome weekend, all around. Played some Wii (Mario Kart is lots and lots of fun) and some XBox 360 (NCAA Football still rules, and the new Grand Theft Auto game is kind of fun), saw a good concert (even if Kate Nash got everyone to say they hated me and I'm pretty sure called me a dickhead), at somewhere near my body weight in pizza (Old World Pizza's buffet is delicious), had some cocktails (most gin and tonics, with a free Jameson and something thrown in for good measure), had a wonderful time meeting and chatting with WhiskeyMarie (however nonsensical and incoherent it may have been), and just really enjoyed myself. If only every weekend could be so fun-filled! Now I'm waiting for visitors to come to KC. There's plenty of room, everyone's welcome! And of course, I can make the airport pick-up, so check out Midwest. It's worth it!
Showing posts with label Whiskey Marie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Whiskey Marie. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Still here, still kickin' it
yeah, I haven't done much in the way of blogging lately. I got all moved into my apartment, got the living room area arranged and cleaned up, and should be working on the bedroom. But instead, I decided to play my DS, and now I'm at Charczuk's, watching Top Chef and using the internet. And tomorrow I'll be over here, using the internet again, but more to watch The Office. I don't have cable or internet, yet, so yeah. Hopefully things will get figured out on that front soon, but in the time being, we'll have to deal with this setup. Oh well.
This weekend should prove to be exciting, I'm heading to Minneapolis, and will have a shenanigan-filled time with H, a performance from Kate Nash, a get together with an old high school friend, and a meeting with the ever lovely Whiskey Marie. There's a chance that I won't make it back to Kansas City.
I'm going to clean off my camera card, so there will hopefully be some classic pictures. Or at least some blurry evidence of what happens. There will probably be some memories that will be blurry, too.
I'll try to be back soon, but if not, fret not, my homies. And check my friends' blogs, the whereabouts of Flenker may be reported elsewhere.
LATER
This weekend should prove to be exciting, I'm heading to Minneapolis, and will have a shenanigan-filled time with H, a performance from Kate Nash, a get together with an old high school friend, and a meeting with the ever lovely Whiskey Marie. There's a chance that I won't make it back to Kansas City.
I'm going to clean off my camera card, so there will hopefully be some classic pictures. Or at least some blurry evidence of what happens. There will probably be some memories that will be blurry, too.
I'll try to be back soon, but if not, fret not, my homies. And check my friends' blogs, the whereabouts of Flenker may be reported elsewhere.
LATER
Friday, February 15, 2008
A tale of an event that hasn't happend (yet) -or- Whiskey and Flenker, a match made in a dirty dirty bar
Sorry for the late post on a Friday night. Like you all had anything else to do anyways, I knew that you wouldn't be able to enjoy your collective selves without having read my blog for the day. Well, you can all relax now, for not only is my blog updated, but it's being updated by the very very lovely WhiskeyMarie!! (sorry, no music today. It's taking the weekend off, but will be back soon.)
Whiskey and Flenker: shaken, not stirred.
(Flenker sits in a dimly lit bar, nursing a beer. She’s late- what else is new? Damn broads. He begins to question his judgment- after all, who meets a total stranger for cocktails at noon on a Tuesday in Iowa?)
(The front door opens. A tallish brunette almost makes it in, but her purse gets caught on the door and she’s jolted back, as if attached to a rubber band. The contents of her purse, including her monogrammed flask and bottle of muscle relaxers, go tumbling to the floor. She curses like a sailor on meth, making the bartender blush. A minute passes, and she manages to compose herself. Only then does Flenker notice that she is wearing two different shoes. He chooses to keep this to himself.)
(She approaches the table.)
“Flenker! Hi! Sorry I’m late by my cat threw up on my first outfit, so I had to change, but then the one pair of jeans didn’t fit right, so I thought maybe I should wear a skirt, but it’s so f**king cold, and I hate tights, and then I’d have to wear boots, and… you know?”
“Um…”
“Holy balls I need a drink. Bartender!”
(She sits down, takes off her coat and settles in. She’s wearing a Loverboy t-shirt, jeans and boots. Her hair is a wavy mess under a stocking cap. Flenker is in jeans and a t-shirt. For some reason he’s wearing pink fuzzy slippers. Don’t ask.)
Flenker breaks the initial silence:
“So, Whiskey- Are you liking Iowa so far? I know it’s cold up there in Minnesota, so at least the weather shouldn’t be so bad for you.”
“Well, I’m thrilled to be in town to celebrate your 1-year blogiversary and post #300! Awesome! But, to be honest- it’s kind of flat here. Kind of windy. But I like it just fine. Very pastoral and serene…Jesus! Who’s a girl gotta blow to get a martini in this joint?” (motions to the flustered bartender. A martini the size of a fishbowl is unceremoniously plopped in front of her. Flenker decides to order a Jameson- make it a double.)
(Flenker clears his throat)
“Um, it sure was nice of you to make the trip down here just to hang out with me, Whiskey. Are there any sights you’d like to see in beautiful Iowa?”
“Well (takes a big gulp out of her drink), I sure would like to see the Laura Ingalls Wilder Museum in the beautiful metropolis of Burr Oak. Did you ever watch that show? Wasn’t Michael Landon dreamy?”
“Uh…sure?” (pounds back his double whiskey in one giant pull wondering what the hell he’s gotten himself into.)
“If you’re not into that, we could go to the Prairie Meadows racetrack and casino in Altoona. We could totally bet on horses and get rich! Wouldn’t that be awesome?”
“I’m in if you’re buying.”
“Of course I am, Flenker. My treat. You just get the drinks, o.k?” (Finishes her drink, motions for another. Flenker does the same.)
“Drinks? With you? With me paying?” (He starts hyperventilating.)
“Don’t worry- we totally have time to sell one of your kidneys before we go. I hear it’s not painful at all with all of the modern medical advancements. Trust me.”
“O.k., Whiskey. How could I ever not trust you?”
“Great! Let’s celebrate with shots! A “Dirty Girl Scout” for me, “Three Wise Men” for you. Bartender! Keep ‘em coming!”
(Shots are downed, several more rounds are ordered. It is nearly dark outside as the two stagger out the door of the bar many hours later.)
“Hey Flenkerrrr. Lesh go to to ‘nuther barrrr. I want sum margerritaaaass.” (starts singing loudly) “Wastinnnn way ‘gin on margerrrrrriitttaaaaaaaaaaaville..”
“Hey! Wishkey. Come here. Let me tell you a seeeecret.” (leans in close to her hear)
“Beeeelllccchhhhhhhhhhh!”
“Hahahahhhaahhahaha! Fenker- you so crazy!”
(The two stumble off, forever friends. This night will be remembered fondly as: The night in which Whiskey accidentally married the president of the Blue Oyster Cult fan club and Flenker woke up in a trailer with two monkeys and no pants.)
(Flenker will also make a new rule for himself after this fateful evening:
Never drink whiskey with Whiskey ever again. Ever. Damn. Those monkeys followed him around for two months and threatened to post the pictures on the internet.)
(Damn monkeys)
WM, thank you so very much! You know you are always welcome down in these parts. And in Iowa! It's amazing how well you know me, especially the waking up with no pants part. That happens more often than not, unfortunately it's never been with anyone else, monkeys or no.
And what the hell, here comes some music, courtesy of a recommendation of Captain Crab. Play the video, then re-read Whiskey's post, and imagine the band playing at the bar. It works on so many levels!
Have a hell of a damn weekend, folks!
*****
Whiskey and Flenker: shaken, not stirred.
(Flenker sits in a dimly lit bar, nursing a beer. She’s late- what else is new? Damn broads. He begins to question his judgment- after all, who meets a total stranger for cocktails at noon on a Tuesday in Iowa?)
(The front door opens. A tallish brunette almost makes it in, but her purse gets caught on the door and she’s jolted back, as if attached to a rubber band. The contents of her purse, including her monogrammed flask and bottle of muscle relaxers, go tumbling to the floor. She curses like a sailor on meth, making the bartender blush. A minute passes, and she manages to compose herself. Only then does Flenker notice that she is wearing two different shoes. He chooses to keep this to himself.)
(She approaches the table.)
“Flenker! Hi! Sorry I’m late by my cat threw up on my first outfit, so I had to change, but then the one pair of jeans didn’t fit right, so I thought maybe I should wear a skirt, but it’s so f**king cold, and I hate tights, and then I’d have to wear boots, and… you know?”
“Um…”
“Holy balls I need a drink. Bartender!”
(She sits down, takes off her coat and settles in. She’s wearing a Loverboy t-shirt, jeans and boots. Her hair is a wavy mess under a stocking cap. Flenker is in jeans and a t-shirt. For some reason he’s wearing pink fuzzy slippers. Don’t ask.)
Flenker breaks the initial silence:
“So, Whiskey- Are you liking Iowa so far? I know it’s cold up there in Minnesota, so at least the weather shouldn’t be so bad for you.”
“Well, I’m thrilled to be in town to celebrate your 1-year blogiversary and post #300! Awesome! But, to be honest- it’s kind of flat here. Kind of windy. But I like it just fine. Very pastoral and serene…Jesus! Who’s a girl gotta blow to get a martini in this joint?” (motions to the flustered bartender. A martini the size of a fishbowl is unceremoniously plopped in front of her. Flenker decides to order a Jameson- make it a double.)
(Flenker clears his throat)
“Um, it sure was nice of you to make the trip down here just to hang out with me, Whiskey. Are there any sights you’d like to see in beautiful Iowa?”
“Well (takes a big gulp out of her drink), I sure would like to see the Laura Ingalls Wilder Museum in the beautiful metropolis of Burr Oak. Did you ever watch that show? Wasn’t Michael Landon dreamy?”
“Uh…sure?” (pounds back his double whiskey in one giant pull wondering what the hell he’s gotten himself into.)
“If you’re not into that, we could go to the Prairie Meadows racetrack and casino in Altoona. We could totally bet on horses and get rich! Wouldn’t that be awesome?”
“I’m in if you’re buying.”
“Of course I am, Flenker. My treat. You just get the drinks, o.k?” (Finishes her drink, motions for another. Flenker does the same.)
“Drinks? With you? With me paying?” (He starts hyperventilating.)
“Don’t worry- we totally have time to sell one of your kidneys before we go. I hear it’s not painful at all with all of the modern medical advancements. Trust me.”
“O.k., Whiskey. How could I ever not trust you?”
“Great! Let’s celebrate with shots! A “Dirty Girl Scout” for me, “Three Wise Men” for you. Bartender! Keep ‘em coming!”
(Shots are downed, several more rounds are ordered. It is nearly dark outside as the two stagger out the door of the bar many hours later.)
“Hey Flenkerrrr. Lesh go to to ‘nuther barrrr. I want sum margerritaaaass.” (starts singing loudly) “Wastinnnn way ‘gin on margerrrrrriitttaaaaaaaaaaaville..”
“Hey! Wishkey. Come here. Let me tell you a seeeecret.” (leans in close to her hear)
“Beeeelllccchhhhhhhhhhh!”
“Hahahahhhaahhahaha! Fenker- you so crazy!”
(The two stumble off, forever friends. This night will be remembered fondly as: The night in which Whiskey accidentally married the president of the Blue Oyster Cult fan club and Flenker woke up in a trailer with two monkeys and no pants.)
(Flenker will also make a new rule for himself after this fateful evening:
Never drink whiskey with Whiskey ever again. Ever. Damn. Those monkeys followed him around for two months and threatened to post the pictures on the internet.)
(Damn monkeys)
*****
WM, thank you so very much! You know you are always welcome down in these parts. And in Iowa! It's amazing how well you know me, especially the waking up with no pants part. That happens more often than not, unfortunately it's never been with anyone else, monkeys or no.
And what the hell, here comes some music, courtesy of a recommendation of Captain Crab. Play the video, then re-read Whiskey's post, and imagine the band playing at the bar. It works on so many levels!
Have a hell of a damn weekend, folks!
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