Archive for the ‘video’ Category

Gimme an F: “F!”
That’s right an R and then two E’s.
I need a Verse: “Verse!”
Just soul clap and sing with me:
“We want it Fri, day! ‘Cuz Friday the Verse is Free!”
Welcome back, ya’ll, to the Change I Wish to See.


Today’s FVF is short and sweet.  It’s about, uh…  Actually, I hope it just makes sense and doesn’t need an explanation.  That’s the whole point of this writing thing, right?  If I need 300 words to explain 27 words, I’m writing the kind of words I always hated to read/hear.

So with that:

promised you’d forget me.
didn’t say it
but i knew.
it was in the way
you hugged me freely
when i was still so tied
to you.

And, uh, that’s that.

But I’m really excited about the music feature I’ve got for you today.

The Sweet Remains.  Go to the site.  Do it.  There are a handful of tracks there for your streaming pleasure.  The audio will auto-load, but forgive it.  It means well.

If they don’t get your weekend off on the right foot, it might be hopeless.

See you on the other side.


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Gimme an F: “F!”
That’s right an R and then two E’s.
I need a Verse: “Verse!”
Just soul clap and sing with me:
“We want it Fri, day! ‘Cuz Friday the Verse is Free!”
Welcome back, ya’ll, to the Change I Wish to See.


Okay. So I’m utterly confused by WordPress’ failure to execute tonight — or last night — including prematurely publishing a scheduled draft. Hopefully not, but there may be draft-like content in your reader, or a post that only somewhat resembles this one. Sorry about that. It kind of makes me want to go back to Blogger and have a legit reason to play around with Google Wave.

But whatever. It’s hard to be that upset at anything while listening to Sam & Ruby, which is exactly what I’ve got for you today. They’re not new, but they’re growing, by leaps and bounds. And thanks to Sam at It’s the Little Things, I’m kind of in awe of them. Actually, in awe; no need for a mitigator.

For a studio version, go here.

But the business: this week’s FVF is a continuation. And a conglomeration. A cohabitative collaboration, celebrating the collision of chorusticular contemplation.

I apologize. I just always wanted to talk like Don King or Jesse Jackson.

The moment has passed. Moving right along.

The verse is a little of this plus something new, written to the instrumental of a song I submitted in a contest a few years ago. So it is at least a continuation. And I think it’s a little bit of growth, because a song that started by asking to be part of something, now has a chorus asking for something in return. But it’s still, as seems to be a trend lately, a work in progress.

Happy Friday. Go make some bad decisions.

“center of your universe”

close your eyes.
spin around me.
let me be
the center of your universe.

all i’m asking for
is the chance to be
your dream come true
and everything you deserve.

but before my heart strings pop
a smile breaks
and i fall head over feet,
i want you to stop me
and say you mean it.

’cause i’ve been oh so close
with a front row seat
just to watch it slip away,
so i want you to stop me
and say you mean it.

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homer screamI would like to be scared.

I probably shouldn’t have said that.  It implies that I, a dude, can get scared, when we all know that real dudes don’t get scared unless there’s a threat of a testicular nature.  I am a Real Man of Genius1 and I should carry myself accordingly at all times.

However, I would still like to be scared.

It’s that time of year.  There’s something amongst us.  I can feel it coming in the air tonight.  Oh, lord.2 And I want to celebrate it.  So I’ve started looking for movies.

I haven’t had a good run with “scary” movies.  I remember that I thought The Blair Witch Project was decidedly not scary.  Actually, I watched it with my mom, aunt and little brother and we all shared laughter, not fear.  I tried to watch The Others, but fell asleep.  I just had to know why there was a Saw IV a few years ago, so I made Miss Bianca sit with me through the first three and then went to the theater to see the fourth.  We were disgusted — seriously, seriously disgusted — but not really scared.

Now it’s 2009, there’s yet another Saw movie and I don’t really know where to turn.

Maybe Paranormal Activity?  Would that make me shrink in my seat like a willfully-single dude during the garter toss at a wedding reception?  I don’t know.  I hope so.  Because I’m out of ideas.

I remember how spooked The Exorcist had me for months.  At that point in life, I was still going to church under the religious watch of my father.  Church instills all sorts of impressions of what Satan is, but rarely visions.  And so that scene where the devil is dancing on the end of her bed was a complete metaphysical disaster for 8 year-old me.  I’ve grown far apart from that specific fear, but I’d still love to doubt whether I should turn out the lights for a few nights.

I could just adjust my Netflix queue, pushing a bunch of movies on “top ten scariest…” lists toward the top, but with less than a week before Halloween and a TV week featuring Community, Always Sunny, MNF, SYTYCD (twice), Top Chef, Cougar Town, Modern Family and playoff baseball, there’s no way I’ll have time to sift through supposedly scary movies.  I’d have to luck my way into a diamond in the rough.  I need one, solid scary movie that I can count on.

But it’s like movie houses are afraid of genuine fear.  Everywhere I look, there’s nothing but ironic fright and poor attempts at mysteries with disconnected plot lines.

Also, this has little to do with anything, but I’ve got a pretty serious hankering for some Ecto Cooler.  Eh?

ecto cooler




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Gimme an F: “F!”
That’s right an R and then two E’s.
I need a Verse: “Verse!”
Just soul clap and sing with me:
“We want it Fri, day! ‘Cuz Friday the Verse is Free!”
Welcome back, ya’ll, to the Change I Wish to See.

The funny thing about this whole FVF thing is that it’s kind of like public nudity. There’s always the risk of you seeing more than you want to. There’s the guarantee that I’ll be self-conscious of every nook and cranny.

Actually, I guess that’s a lot like everyday, since I like to keep the outright lying to a minimum.

But on Fridays, it’s like the spotlights are a little brighter. And so I’m probably breaking one of the top 5 stage rules — Patrick? Any verification on stage decorum? — by admitting that for the last few weeks, including today, I’ve written new stuff but I simply can’t say any of it out loud yet. I imagine you’re not allowed to take the stage and say “never mind” but that’s sort of what’s going on today.

Wow. Great lead-in, me.

Anyway, there are still a few things in store for today.

First up, what are you listening to right now? Yes, right now. If it’s silence, or your boss screaming at someone in the background, or even some band not called The Noisettes you should start listening to The Noisettes right now.

Start with this (which Universal won’t let me embed).

And then listen to this:

Second, actual FVF.  Since today is officially the first day of my second lease with this domain — best 10$ ever — I figured I’d dig through the archives from the past year.  Below is the first full song I ever put in a post.

Happy Friday.

” señorita “

it’s a saunter
when she steps on the floor
she can feel all the stares.

they all want her
just one look in their eyes,
you knew somebody would dare.

one by one, she refused them
sat ’em down, brokenhearted
pushed their egos aside.

had no time for amusement
none of them knew the music
she was crying inside.

oh… senorita
what lies beneath you
is haunting me
it’s the song I wrote for you
it’s you I sing

it’s a whisper
but she shakes when she breathes it
like she’s screaming aloud.

blink and miss her
she moves in secret ways
under the gaze of the crowd.

she’s confused them
cloaked in red
seems a shout for romance.

but for her it’s acoustic
private, reclusive
a plea for a chance.

oh… senorita
what lies beneath you
is haunting me
it’s the song I wrote for you
it’s you I sing

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Gimme an F: “F!”
That’s right an R and then two E’s.
I need a Verse: “Verse!”
Just soul clap and sing with me:
“We want it Fri–

We now interrupt your regularly scheduled programming for a special announcement.

I am a ruh-tard.

And, well, I had never done karaoke before.  Until last Friday.  When LiLu made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.

We were at this bar called Recessions where they serve beer at happy hour by the 32 oz. mug for $3 each.  That’s right: $1.50 per pound beers.

So we sang our hearts out.  There may have been some “dancing.”

Sorry for the poor lighting, but I think these three and a half minutes speak for themselves.

Just in case you don’t have video access, LiLu rickrolled the entire bar.  That’s like one hundred people, kids.  And I went along for the ride.  My entire strategy was to sound and dance as much like Rick Astley — one of history’s greatest human beings — as possible and to pay homage to a Family Guy episode.

To answer your question, if you watched the video, yes I do have a short-bus pass and I wouldn’t trade it in for anything in the world.

Happy Friday.

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i can’t believe it’s not Thursday

Yesterday was, um, not the greatest of days.  Might as well just admit it.  It meant I didn’t read nearly as many of your posts as I would want to; that I suffered a long absence on GChat;¹ that I missed a happy hour I really needed.  Once home, I set the rhythm, 2nd guitar and chorus for this bluesy rock song I’m working on, but I didn’t finish enough to share something.  Hence, no Free Verse Friday.

But I’m not a Cranberries song, so I don’t have to let it linger.  Moving forward.

With no time to write for today, I give you my disappointing attempts to use my iPhone video camera for the first time.

Oh.  I almost forgot.  It’s a poorly-kept secret that I enjoy a lyrical parody every once in a while.²  So you should go here.  No, really.  It’s lyrical parody/WMATA drama Suburban Sweetheart style.

Happy Friday.


¹Though I’ve heard it was spotty anyway.

²You can find a couple examples here and here.

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This here is a media blitz.  Ready?  Let’s go.


First up, Different Worlds by Swedish progressive metal band Evergrey.

Let’s not mix words: worst song ever.

Eighth track on their third album, In Search of Truth.  The album is a concept album.  The concept is simulated alien abduction.  True to concept, some of the lyrics:

All my pride has left me
My value as a human has been extinguished
My close ones those who love
Disbelieve me won’t believe me
So I got no one to confide in
And what’s worse is
I’m beginning to accept this
My body’s become my prison
My keepers are what you would call…

Enough said, right?  Nope there’s more.  At the 3:46 mark, the frontman starts audibly shivering and shaking, barely able to murmur-chant anything other than “Please don’t touch me.”

You are welcome.

Next at the podium,


I call “bullshit.”

Seriously.  I don’t get it.  I haven’t been this bamboozled since the new nanny my mom hired when we were kids showed up with presents on the very first day we met her and then it all ended a few months later after she moved her 30 year-old son in (like we wouldn’t notice) and we had to call the police to have them forcibly removed from the premises.

The last time I’ve seen any production receive this much hype and fail me so hard was Scarface.  I waited three hours for that anti-epic to finish and by then I’d already seen the “climactic” final plunge so many times elsewhere that I wanted my 25 bucks back.  Yes: 25.  I actually just bought the damn thing at Best Buy because everyone assured me it would be life-changing.  Six years later, I just want to throw it out.

But I know some of you really like Glee. And the fact that I think it’s just a series of YouTube-worthy clips with no appealing writing whatsoever is just me being me. So, to even out the hate, I’ll throw you a bone.

I own Garden State.  There.  Said it.  Call it a Jersey thing.  Fair?

Finally, Cougar Town.

cougar townThere were a couple of gems:

Supporting actress #1(“SA1”) — photo, rear — said “crack-a-lackin” and had a visible boob-hickey.  Star cougar, Courtney Cox, said “coochie cooch.”

But the best was this scene outside Courtney’s front door:

[Knock on door. Courtney opens and sees young guy she met at the bar. Drunk SA1 in background screaming from midnight blue VW Beetle with its top down has dropped him off.]

SA1: “Hey! You left that at the bar, bitch!”

But there’s one glaring error: Courtney Cox is the only cougar in Cougar Town.  There is no town full of cougars.  Sure: at some point, she goes to a bar/cougar lair.  But a bar is not a town.  And that, my friends, is false advertising.  It’s like going to the zoo to see the monkeys and in the pen there’s only one, lonely, botoxed, twitching monkey.¹

But I’ll watch again. I mean, it’s about cougars.


¹Obviously, women are not like monkeys.  Do not go call your girlfriend a “monkey” and tell her I said it was cool.

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