My RSS Feeds
(I've Had) The Thai of My Life
Friday night I saw X, one of my favorite bands of all time. I have mentioned them repeatedly on this site over the years -- they appeared on my 100 Favorite Songs list twice (with "World's a Mess; It's in My Kiss" and "Poor Girl"), and I even played one of their songs ("4th of July") for y'all on here last summer. They are one of the most criminally overlooked bands in music history. John Doe (also an actor, he's great in Boogie Nights) has one of my favorite male voices, and Courtney Love stole everything from Exene Cervenka (former wife of Viggo Mortensen). Their voices combine in something that isn't quite on-key, isn't quite perfect harmony, but sounds freaking killer anyway. Pile on awesome punk/surf/rock/country guitar riffs and stampeding drums, and you got yourself a band that deserves so much more.
I saw them five years ago in Saint Louis (at Pop's -- a venue where my band, The PTA, also made the ladies scream once or twice), and was amazed they were still amazing. Friday night, they hadn't lost a beat. It was a relentless couple hours of music, played hard and fast by people your parents' age. Seeing them live always has an interesting angle, as Doe and Cervenka used to be married. I always expect them to start throwing things at each other.
X's first four albums -- Los Angeles, Wild Gift, Under the Big Black Sun, and More Fun in the New World -- are all masterpieces, without a bum track on them. If that's too much for you to purchase, you can't go wrong with their best-of compilation The Best: Make the Music Go Bang, which is pictured below.
You're welcome.
Saturday I attended a rooftop barbecue. I got a couple of text messages in a row and decided to head down to the restroom, take a seat on the toilet, and read and respond to the aforementioned texts while urinating. Seconds later, the doorknob was a-twitching, someone trying to get in. I blocked the door from opening with my arm, and locked it. Seconds after that, a heretofore unseen door on the opposite end of the restroom flew open. It was the very same girl who had just tried to get in! She stood there for what felt like an eternity, staring at this pathetic display -- a grown man text-messaging with his pants around his ankles and his side-ass clearly visible -- and slammed the door.
I immediately ran out of the bathroom and proceeded to explain, for some reason, that I was not going #2, but #1. "Why were you sitting down?" she asked. "So I could do some text messaging!" I replied, realizing as I said the words how ridiculous it all sounded. "When I slammed the first door on you," I demanded, "why, oh why, would you try the other door?" Her response: "You didn't say anything!"
Does one have to scream out when someone tries to walk in on you in the bathroom? Isn't a door slam enough? Should I have banged pots and pans together, caused a big scene? "Hey everyone! Patty's sittin' on the can, and he's gonna be in here for three to four minutes!" People, I implore you! Was I not in the right here?
And I'll thank you to look past the fact that I was sitting whilst urinating.
Sunday I hit Los Angeles' Thai New Year Festival. Yes, the Thais were celebrating another year of creating indescribably awful music, of giving the American people crippling diarrhea, and of selling children into sex slavery.
Good curry, though.
I was with two friends and we went into a Thai bar. In honor of the New Year, every time you paid for a Chang beer, you got a lovely drinking glass. Two hours later, we stumbled out of the bar, each one of us holding a boxed set of six. I'm admiring mine right now. In fairness, we were owed several more, but were too ashamed to claim them.
Quite the lil' weekend.
I have a much funnier scene of seeing a man standing at the urinal, cell in
one hand whilst his other takes care of business, facing the woman at the
door with the look of "......what?"
_And I thought it was common knowledge to announce your presence on the
shitter when someone is at the door_
A.V. Club reports that Exene Cervenka is looking unbelievably aged these
days. True, or was she just having a bad South by Southwest?
Pat--I don't know if you remember me from previous comments; I'm a friend
of RØB's in St. Louis who reads this blog of yours pretty regularly; to my
knowledge we've never met IRL. Anyway, I thought I'd point out, for no
reason other than stretching REALLY hard for some sort of "bond," that at
Lemmon's, a St. Louis bar I frequent, there is a prominent piece of
graffiti in the men's room that reads "the world's a mess it's in my kiss,"
which I see at least weekly and have always wondered about. Thanks for
answering this long-asked question.
Man, hardly any of us posted commentary on your "I'm Back!" post--I had
begun to fear that your readership dwindled. Heck, maybe it did, but it
appears to be comin' back slowly and surely.
Chris,
Rather than scraping all the graffiti off the walls, you could just stop
giving such a righteous BJ. Comprimise your BJ work ethic to get some
peace and quiet.
Pat,
Uh, I believe we both know that Pop's is a portion of Sauget, IL -- the
sleaziest spot in the midwest.
M-
I can't explain the girl's persistence but I had similar experience walking
home late from a party in NYC. Some yuppie dude was urinating against the
wall and I made some annoyed or exasperated sound because it was gushing on
to the sidewalk, steaming. The guy notices me and then tries to pick
me--hey, I noticed you looking my way...you coming back from a party? I
told him to that, in my opinion, anything that needs to pee in public
either needs a leash or a diaper. And he still tries to pick me up!
Explain that!