whiskeyfightpit

Not much comes through my "grime depot" that is very appealing to me. Video games tickle the same sensations that ipecac and gallons of Yukon Jack's PERMAFROST tickle. The only decent music rollin' in is what I order for myself or that random corporate act that is granted the permission to perform experiments that were traditionally reserved for underground/indie acts. Sometimes I let a gem slide through and just gather dust on the shelves. Tony Conrad & Faust is one of those little nuggets. The disk just faces out of the case proudly like an orphaned puppy looking for a caring home. Of course, that home is probably a creepazoid shack smack-dab in the heart of East Toledo. With various manifestos and extreme bondage films littered about the place. Movies in particular are a rather gruesome experience for me in the re-sale industry. It seems as though people go out and piss twenty clams on whatever lame-ass cereal box spectacle is danglin' from the hook. And then once the magic marshmallows have lost their sparkly taste...my little depot gets a golden shower of films featuring the chops of Jet Li, Vin Diesel, J-Lo, and whomever else is emperor for a day. But there has been a string of decent flicks that also happen to be extremely popular coming in. These are:

21 Grams
Bad Santa
Monster
Mystic River

Took these little babies home expecting the worse. One just gets used to unhealthy diets after a lifetime of rock n' schlock. I don't feel like getting into great detail about any of 'em, but I would recommend them all to anyone reading this journal. We all typically have similar interests in these types of things.

On to the bad news. This shit is like finding out your house was ripped apart by tomahawk missles. THIS NEXT BIT OF INFORMATION WAS AN ACCIDENT...THIS WAS NOT AT ALL INTENTIONAL. In part of our practice session the other day, I ACCIDENTALLY started playing the main melody line to Phil Collins/Genesis' "There Must Be Some Misunderstanding". Once we discovered what we were playing we immediately drank undiluted bleach and scrubbed our hands with an obessive/compulsive's batch o' boraxo soap. My main concern is that some of the yahoo's on the same floor would want to come over and "jam" or "hang out" once they hear familiar sounds. Hey, to keep cockroaches out, you gotta keep the cake off the floor. That's all I gotta say about that shit. At least I admit when I'm wrong.

SOUNDTRACK OF THE DAY
M.Ward "Transfiguration Of Vincent"
ELO "Sweet Talkin' Woman"
Old Time Relijun "Witchcraft Rebellion"

Anyone got any input on that Weasal Walter group LAKE OF DRACULA? I've got that plus some Scissor Girls on order. Oh, and some Robert Wyatt, too. I think I gotta go get a payday loan or something.