"I left my thimbles and Socialist reading at home."

So Patet and I got Audrey Kawasaki tattoos yesterday. The story goes like so: Patet woke up late for work. We were heading down to Kit's place to help Martin do some PD stuff for Hunter's thesis shoot. On the way there (which is just going down a flight of stairs and a dozen or so steps) she decides to get her tattoo that day, out of the blue, because she didn't get to go to work. Fine and dandy. I mean, tattoos are cool, and her design is bomb, so why not right? So while working on said PD stuff, she convinces me to get mine first just so she'll know how it feels since we're both ink virgins. I agree of course, because hey, tattoos are cool right? So I got me a Kawasaki design I really liked and we asked Marlon, Kit's artist, to do it that day.

For a first tattoo, its a pretty sweet experience. It hurt, but it was bearable. I'm actually looking for that pain now. Patet thought otherwise though. She passed out because she was blocking out the pain and forgot to take deep breaths. She stared at me blankly with her eyes fluttering close and open. It was a pretty intense 5 minutes, which we laughed at afterwards.

But knowing her, I'm really proud that she stuck with it and got it finished even if she yelped and howled all the way through. It looks really bad ass and sexy on her. We even formulated and agreed on our own olive theory with getting tats. I like to look at it because it hurts less, and she the other way around. We'll find out the success rate of that theory the next time we get tattoos. It would be another Kawasaki, no doubt about it.

In other news, today is Mactan's fiesta and we ate lechon at our neighbors party. There's also bad juju floating about in the air. Its so thick that I could feel it in my bones, swimming in my guts. All the division is a giant drag. I myself wouldn't really go on much about it. Its just bad vibes, man. Patet and I noticed it earlier and it made us lock ourselves in the apartment instead of mingling with the bad spirits in the air. (I swear I heard a knock at the window just now, but no one is there... bad juju, dude) Patet is sleeping like an angel on the couch, mouth slightly agape, and I'm watching Stranger Than Fiction on AXN. The outside world is too scary for us at this time of night and at this kind of vibe.

Also, our comrades-at-arms for the revolution, The Strangeness, is playing a show tonight at Freedom Bar. Do rock and roll a solid and be there. I know I would if I could. Check the poster out:

I also heard Don't Bogart the Can... Man! is pretty cool. I believe Mushroom, the Truth used to sprout when that band jams. And Taxi ni Vivian, which apparently Tin is playing in? Since when did it become cool to be in a band? Is that like some hipster requirement or some shit? But I digress.

(While you're pretending you're giving a shit reading this blog, check out our band as well. OZAWA on Tumblr.)

Shit OK, my tattoo is starting to itch now. Must resist scratching!

A Pre-Valentines Post

I have a girlfriend and not bitter at all, but that doesn't excuse us from celebrating Valentines and be puppets of the corporate capitalist machine that is the Swiss chocolate companies and Hallmark greeting cards.

She asked for chicken powder as a V-Day present because she said, being a chef and all, that its the secret ingredient to everything. I asked, "Everything?" "Everything," she replied sure of herself. I'm bound to trust her because she's the one feeding me everyday with those yummy recession recipes. Just go to her blog at the side bar, her menus are there.

This has nothing to do with Valentines, and rightfully so, but I just have to put it out there that I finished the 1st draft of my thesis script and it pretty much rules. Its like if Wes Anderson wrote Igby Goes Down. Now that's a peg.

Also, in other unrelated to Valentines news, Joe is an asshole. He's this old, fat foreigner dude living across us and he's a douche. He called Che and Kaya stupid because Ganj was sorta harassing his idiot dog. We almost kicked his ass. We did get to throw a few racial slurs at him like "Its a fucking dog, man. At least its not white." And Rico said the most poignant thing in the world of insults that night: "How about you lick my balls, sir." That made me lol. Don't mess with drunk teenagers gramps, you'll get slammed. Eventually it ended with him saying sorry and giving us a bottle of Emperador. Not too shabby. (Props to Corics and Kaya for leaving their PS2 at our place, you dudes rule)

The night's end was a bummer. I won't get into it.

Now is the time for a late lunch of lechong paksiw. Enjoy your Valentines AIDS everyone.

This is Not a Music Blog: Nina Nastasia

[Full disclaimer: The links I host are *mostly* not mine. I just found them on the web. If you like what you hear, support the artist by buying their merch and going to their shows. I know I would spend my imaginary cash if I could just to go see these people play.]

Back when having a multiply account was cool (est. 2007 - early 2009) I was there posting about music that interested me. I even used to call it I Spit On Your Music Taste. You could still check it out here if you like. You just have to wade through some stuff, but you'll get there. I post awesome music since I have impeccable taste in it, so you don't need to worry yourself about my credibility.

But alas, those days are gone. Multiply is no longer cool anymore. We have microblogging now with spiffy RTs and Reblog and Like buttons.

Now, this is not a music blog. But from time to time, I can't help myself but share music from people that should really be heard. Music is a big part of my existence that I'm compelled to share it with people that might not have heard of it or might have heard of it already and just want to revisit the record again. You may not like it, but that's a consequence I'm willing to take.

We just can't remain friends if you don't, you and I. I'm only half-kidding.

So for the first of (hopefully) many more segments of This is Not a Music Blog: Nina Nastasia.

From last.fm:

Nina Nastasia is a New York City-based singer-songwriter born in Hollywood, California. Her music is noted for an eclectic mix of folk delicacy and intricate chamber music arrangements worked out with her band and partner Kenna Gudjonsson.

Nastasia has released five albums so far, the first of which, Dogs, was initially released in 2000 in a miniscule edition of 1000 copies on Socialist Records. The album sold out quickly and her subsequent albums, The Blackened Air (2001) and Run to Ruin (2003) were released on indie label Touch and Go Records. All three albums were recorded by Steve Albini.

So you see, even our homeboy Steve is singing praises at the altar of Nastasia. This would probably sound sexist and stupid, but I'll say it anyway: if she had the looks of Chan Marshall, aka Cat Power, she would have been thrice more popular than she is now.

Think Scout Niblett if she wasn't so angry. Or the older sister Laura Marling never had. Its awesome stuff. I especially like her low-key acoustic performances. The songs feel more intimate than it already is. Like she's there in your living room, singing to you. Just one of those cold nights hanging out on the couch, with a sixer and leftover pizza.

So listen to her first album Dogs and play it with your special someone. Or in your cold room. Alone. It works both ways.

Dogs

And as an added bonus...

Acoustic Sessions on BCB

Les Femmes s'en Melent Festival 2005.05.01

Tracklist:

1. How I Like a Fight
2. I Say That I Will Go
3. Superstar
4. Oh My Stars
5. You, Her and Me
6. Ocean
7. The Matter (of Our Discussion)
8. Untitled

Thank me later.

Today is a good day for pirates + The Strangness

I miss Chasing Amy. Its smart, its funny, its poignant, and hopefully it ages like fine wine. Would be seeing this again later to see if it stands the test of time. Most of Kevin Smith's work does anyway. Except for Jersey Girl. What a horrible piece of shit film. Sorry Kev, the terrorists won on that one.

We also just recently seen Clerks, Dogma, and Mallrats. I was showing them to Patet and Chasing Amy would complete the set.

Stoked to see this one. David Lynch. A name I could always count on. ALWAYS.

I can't actually believe I haven't seen this. Didn't even knew it existed. Or maybe I did and I just forgot, but I'm not the kind of person that forgets films by the Lynchman. Whatever the case may be, you are gonna get so watched like a Vegas stripper. I'm ready with my ones.

Cici told me about this a month back. Just getting to download it now. I even acted all surprised when I saw the amazing poster, but then backtracked and realized that someone actually told me about this and that I already know that there's a new Jim Jarmusch film. But y'know, OMG THERE'S A NEW JIM JARMUSCH FILM AND I HAVEN'T SEEN IT YET AND I'M MORE STOKED THAN EVER. /cruisecontrol

are also Invader Zim episodes waiting, just waiting, at 98.7% as we speak. All of the Invader Zim episodes and all of the Hey Arnold! episodes we could ever want!! I'm such a happy camper. And I'm not even finished re-watching those 13 episodes of Wonderfalls.

In other worldly news:

Rock and roll won last night with the first show of The Strangeness. I wasn't there but I'm pretty sure it ruled because I'm bias (dudes are part of our Love and Terror Cult) and because they want to be Les Sexerrenos and King Khan and other garage rock bands that don't $uck dick$ like The $troke$.

Yeah, The Strokes sucks. All of the solo albums the dorks from this "band" sucks as well. Go back to your fucking mansion in the Hamptons with motherfucking Vampire Weekend and jack each other off while you're all wearing your alt. bro preppy clothes, stupid looking boat shoes and ironic Iron Maiden tees. I hear Steve GAY-oki would be scoring the whole shindig, with rumor "guest" directing appearance of Quentin "its just my homage" Tarantino.

Fucking turd burglers. /end_rant

Anyway. The Strangeness! WOOOO! Fuck yeah! Rock and roll! Totes mcgotes wanting to bang out that LuzViMinda split ASAP. Get on with it champs. My nips are getting hard just thinking about it.

On Avatar and failing upwards

Me getting Patet's medical results was a bust the first time.

I was there in front of the hospital and what do I NOT find in my pocket? The receipt for the exam. Bummer. So I troop back to our place all confuzled and sort of raging on the stupidty of the whole situation. Then a bomb drops.

Girlfriend comes home and we get into a slight screaming match because of miscommunication about the whole thing. Voices were raised and curses were thrown.

Our first fight ever lasted not more than 10 minutes.

We just went off our rockers for a couple of ticks. Thank science we're slightly more well adjusted than previously thought. Barney, my man, the chain circle pyramid circle of screaming doesn't work, Bro Montana.

And to seal the deal, I went back to the hospital after class without her prior knowledge to get the results. Was that totally a Ted move? Jesus. Hopefully not. It was sorta cheesy though, admittedly. I guess I'm a sucker just like Marshall.

Speaking of Marshall, Jason Seagel, Forgetting Sarah Marshall was the tits. Best fucking fish tacos in town, totes mcgotes.

And now Avatar.

Finally saw it and this one Tumblr user described it perfectly:

Avatar = the coolest lookin' piece of shit ever made.

just got back from the annual christmas movie with the family. saw Avatar cuz…well cuz that’s what my family wanted to see, at least i didn’t have to pay for it. well that’s 10 hours of my life i can never get back. looked fucking sweet but HOLY SHIT what a Madlibs of a movie. fucking Dances With Aliens. most clichés in a film possible and soooooo fucking boring.

retarded people with no taste will love this shit…which is most of America. fuck that movie. and fuck James Cameron. he is officially the new George Lucas.

Couldn't have said it better myself. Best part in it was when the should be paraplegic but isn't smurf dude was on his Wyvern (yes I'm calling them Wyverns James Cameron you closet D&D playing nerd) and they did a barrel roll. A BARREL ROLL. Jesus Christ. I wish I had a picture.

But this should suffice:

I'm blogging while my girlfriend tries to sleep beside me. I think she's bummed because I'm still slacking off in the interwebz. If you get to read this, sorry baby, I love you. Here's something Avatar related that's funny so you won't get pissed at me:

"Horses?" "No. Evil Forces."

Being hungover from those cute blue pills drag me down from the stuff I'm suppose to do.

Quick recap from last night:

• Dinner.
• Valiums
• Tiki Bar to watch Buds, Nic, James, and Che spin.
• Valiums
• Half of a white pill
• Weed (that's already a given though)
• Booze. Lots of it.
• Crashing/passing out on our couch with my head making my girlfriend's ass my pillow while watching Forgetting Sarah Marshall.

So you see, rad times were had by all.

At this moment I should have already gotten a shower and should have been walking to school so I could get mega $$$ on my ATM. Mega $$$ here pertains to roughly... $15 American. Big spender! High roller! (I actually spelt roller as "rooler" the first time)

Then, Mactan Doctors for Patet's stool culture results. Dutiful boyfriend is dutiful. I would have been hard pressed to do it, but would eventually cave-in, if I was the one bringing her shit there for examination. Then dutiful boyfriend would be grossed out, but still dutiful--I'm my girlfriend's bitch really--HA HA OH WOW.

But srsly, men should realize that as long as women own vaginas, they rule the whole entire universe. Name one thing, save anal, you wouldn't do for a girl.

See. Nothing.

They rule. And us men are all dorks still trying to use The Force to no avail. Yoda, homeboy, you're the man and all, but you're no match for the almighty vag of the evil forces. The Sith Empire was a sitch compared to Princess Leia PMS-ing.

Enough of this nonsense. I should get rolling. Now if only I could remember where I put the goddamn keys to the apartment.

Because everyone is a goddamn hipster, and all of us are sheep. BAAAAAHHHHHHH!

That was a rough start wasn't it? NVM.

So here is yet another attempt to keep a blog alive for at least a couple of months until I get tired of typing gibberish or I don't get to pay our internet bill. This here first post is partly for those two people who are following my barren blog, who coincidentally are good friends IRL.

Yeah TJ. Yeah Cici. I should have totally used Friendster's blogging service instead. Think of how many hipster points I would rack up in my Irony 101 class. Should I smoke my Camel straight now? Should I ride my own melt? Oh you kids and your imaginary characters named Troy Dyer. All aboard the Hey, That's My Bike bandwagon! Oh and btw, dude was quoting Cool Hand Luke.

Ok, Ok, enough pot shots.

Here's a really short story: microblogging is turning out to be too micro for my tastes during the past days and its getting to be somewhat a bummer. [Excuse me for a tick, I'm lighting a half-smoked cigarette with a burnt off filter. And its menthol. Fuck me. -ed] Alright, so anyway. Long of the short, new blog. Longer posts. More retarded dribble. Everybody is happy.

Me at least, yeah?

Flash thought! Blogging is self-righteous, ego masturbation. Yes kids. These are the things that interest me at 4:11 in the morning. I should really sleep this drunkeness off now. My girlfriend is sleeping alone in our bed and hugs seem appropriate right now. She needs to get up by 6, and we just packed up our little shindig about an hour ago. I on the other hand have time to snooze because class doesn't start until 1.

Patet (the girlfriend) and Che had a photoshoot by the empty street in front of our place like some junkie loons on a lookbook high. It was pretty funny. And admittedly, fun. I love nights like these.

Pictures of the apartment soon. Its colorful as fuck now. And rad.

Enough one off thoughts. I guess I still have that ADD hang-up spawned by Tumblr. Sleep. Sleep sounds good. Sleep sounds mighty good.

Things to look forward to:

• New The Icarus Line record soon. Shit is called Joe Cardamone Vs. The Icarus Line. Sounds pretty fucking epic rocking and rolling. Bad Bloods is fucking tits.
• Giant Drag's Swan Song EP out on February 16. STOKED 'TIL DEATH.
• OZAWA/The Strangeness/Love in Athens LuzViMinda 3-way split. Rad.
• Lotsa drugs.

Sleep tight, world. You need it. You'll be burning up soon. (Or drowning. Depends really.)