In my previous post I discussed four criteria which make up the ideal romantic partner. Of course, because I was describing an ideal, I was also describing an impossibility. In my eyes a dream girl/guy would be very funny, extremely attractive, have genius-level intelligence and be as loyal as a lark. In reality, candidates are bound to fall short in at least one of those categories, usually at least two. I fall short in all four.

But hold the phone! My goal is not to discourage people! As Built to Spill’s first album’s title told us: There Is Nothing Wrong With Love! What is wrong is having ridiculous expectations. In this second part, I am going to reveal my second system of romantic qualification: S.A.F.E. (again, this took about 4 minutes of development and is undoubtedly flawed). The S.A.F.E system outlines my qualifications for what constitutes an appropriate partner to pursue romantically. While the F.A.I.L standards will only end in disaster, the S.A.F.E criteria should lead you to a happy and healthy relationship. Let’s begin:

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You know what?

If I said that really condescendingly it would be a good insult, but if I say it with a smile it sounds like I am about to tell you something, and I am! There is one thing I like to do before I sit down to write blogs. Nope, guess again, I like to put on some groovy tunes! Well, hey, let’s get real: it’s about a week into December and from what I can remember I am getting weak in the knees with anticipation. Am I anticipating the antifreeze? No! I’m anticipating the poinsettias, mistletoe, wreaths, ivy, holly and evergreens! As I began this blog I put on one of my all time favorite Christmas songs: “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.”

Go ahead and press play there, it makes a good background track.

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Hello again, Smartass radio’s Michael Jackson correspondent Megan Riebesell here, just checking in to follow up on the status of our dearly beloved.  As we all could have predicted, not even MJ’s passage into eternity could ease the controversy that besieged him all his life.  Back here on earth, we are still picking away at every morsel of flesh that our ugly beaks can scrape off his bones.  People are still making  careers out of revealing any kind of sensitive information they can dig up in his wake, so-called “artists” are  still depending on his legacy for their own shot at celebrity or capital, and the fat, greedy vultures of the world are still milking his hard-earned masterpieces for every pathetic cent they can steal.  However, do not fret, I am here to remind everyone that Michael’s pure soul, which was always too powerful to be contained by a simple human body, has finally reached its proper ranking among the gods, as an immortal presence.  Of course, Michael’s kingdom in the great beyond is immune to the commotion of silly, frantic scavengers still chirping his name down here.  Rest in assurance, MJ smiles down on all of his children still, giggling at our antics.

That being said, skimming through Jacko’s most recent controversy was actually a pretty hilarious and  of course bizarre venture. Where do I even begin?

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4 Things I Want To Do By 2011

Apparently New Year’s Eve has come and gone. From all accounts I was in New Paltz for two nights celebrating, but there is absolutely no way I could confirm or deny those statements. My calendar, on the other hand, is about as reliable as any other calendar and it tells me we’re now in the year 2010, which is pretty sweet. Only a few more years till hoverboards, Mastodon is probably gearing up to write another album which will leave my brains all over Roy’s walls, and from what I can gather, we still have two whole years before the planet implodes.

So, I felt it was appropriate to wait until about a week in to make my resolutions. I decided to whittle down the thousands and thousands of character flaws and gimmicks which have been holding me back from achieving massive amounts of success, fame and fortune and focus on five key things I want to be able to accomplish by the end of this year. Let’s get started!

1. I want to be able to play the ukulele better then this kid:

I’ve been putting some serious hours in on the ole’ six string recently, but if I’m going to complete resolution 2, I need to sharpen my uke skillz. This kid has the right idea – just sittin’ around laughin’ and bustin’ out some chords and singing whatever he’s singing. If you double click and read the info, apparently he slipped a “Surfin’ USA” in there somewhere. That’s what ukulele is all about.

2. I want to record an album at least as labor intensive as The Wolf by Andrew W.K.

I was just alerted this morning that every track on Andrew W.K.’s incredibly underrated second album, The Wolf, has between 90 and 200 tracks all recorded by Andrew W.K. That is fucking impressive. Can I write the anthems of a generation as poignantly as Mr. W.K.? Probably not. But can I throw a bunch of shit at the wall and see what sticks? Definitely. Then can I take said sticky shit and overwork it like an even more obsessive Axl Rose? Absolutely.

3. I don’t want to look like this at any point in 2010:

Unless Ralph Macchio just thrashed me in a tournament, there is no reason I should be asleep at a party. Especially if I went so far out of my way to dress up and look presentable. If I were smoking bongs at Roy’s place all night, it’s one thing. But to show up to a kegger dressed to the nine’s just to fall asleep – that’s simply unjustifiable.

4. I want to somehow be able to make whoever accidentally lands on this site a) actually want to read some of the bullshit on it and b) get the jokes.

A lot of people visit the site via random Google Image searches. That rocks. The problem is that once they right click and save their image as (I know Mac users, a two buttoned mouse is so 1998, AMIRITE? Trendy douchebags.). Where was I? These parenthetical asides always knock me for a loop – maybe my fifth resolution should be to make them shorter and funnier. Oh right, no one visits the site or seems to get the jokes. Well I honestly don’t see how I can change either of those things, so let me link you to two comments from 2009 that really really missed the boat. Numer 1. Number 2.

Well after much debate, I have decided that, ultimately, my posts are better written in regular ink. These past few months, following the advice of friends, I experimented with writing in invisible ink. The obvious benefits being, a) hey, it saves money and 2) it’s easy on the hand. The drawback: eye straining. Hold on, Charlie’s calling me…

Hey Charlie, how’s it going you douche?
Haha, yeah, I hear THAT.
No, no, I’m ME. That was just something Ricky was spouting. But, yeah, everything’s good here.
No dude, I’m actually writing a blog post right now.
Yeah, SmartassRadio.
Yeah.
Yeah.
No, it’s just music blogs now, but, yeah, Rihanna’s fine.
Well that’s because I stopped writing them for months. I don’t think I’ve written since September or something.
No, I just told everyone I had been using invisible ink, it’s fine.
No, it worked, they bought it.
Charlie, they bought it, OK?
Dude, I don’t know why you’re trying to argue this with me. I told everyone I had been writing with invisible ink. That explains the hiatus.
How should I know how that’s possible? It’s just some digital invisible ink.
Yes, I know there are no lemons.
Yes.
Yes.
I know.
Thank you Charlie, I understand the situation.
Listen you douche I have to go.
It’s going to be about Kanye fucking West, happy?
Kanye West. The rapper.
No, it’s not about “the Taylor Swift shit,” no one is still talking about “the Taylor Swift shit”?
No, they’re not Charlie.
Charlie, you moron, if anyone is still making jokes about Kanye West yelling at Taylor Swift they are fucking out of the loop.
What loop? You really are dumb Charlie. The metaphoric loop of high society.
Yes.
No, I speak in metaphors all the time.
I do.
Yeah, I’m a rocket science at it.
I know that was the joke.
Anyway, I have to go.
No, I can’t.
OK, you have two seconds.
That was like seven minutes Charlie, I said two seconds.
No, I understand point though. It is a sick album.
This week I’ve been listening to this new album. It’s a collaboration between The Black Keys and all these different rappers called Blakroc.
Like Mos Def, Jim Jones, RZA. Ludacris is actually on the first track.
It’s funny, but the track kind of sucks.
No, the rest of the album is really good. I liked it.
So, yeah, that. I think me and my friend Felix are actually going to review it later. So that will probably get up on the site.
Other than that? The new Animal Collective EP is really good, but I wouldn’t really review that for the site.
I don’t know, it’s just not something I would do.
I don’t know, I don’t really want to write an actual review of an album I think is great.
Well the Blakroc thing is going to be fun and funny too. I don’t usually write seriously for the site.
More like joke stuff.
Yeah, they’re like half-music, half-joke blogs usually.
I actually haven’t come up with the jokes for this Kanye shit, I will though.
No, that’s it. I’m going to write it now. Good-bye.
Bye Charlie.

Hey everyone, sorry about that. That was my friend Charlie. He just wanted to know what time I’m going to Courtney’s. Well here’s the answer: never, because Courtney has swine flu and I don’t need to deal with that shit.

Anyway, on a completely unrelated note, I know there have been some rumors about me. Particularly, a set of rumors being circulated by one Mr. Rick Pachachsky. I don’t want to give this issue anymore “air time” than it deserves, which is frankly zero, but let me just wrap up this paragraph by saying, once and for all, I am not a paid actor playing the role of “Roy.” I am just one person. There is not some “idea” of “Roy” that different actors have been playing since 2001. I am not an experimental performance piece. I am just a single individual.

On a second completely unrelated note that has been brought to my attention in a very similar way, I know there have been some rumors about me. Particularly, a set of rumors that I began circulating last Valentine’s Day. I don’t want to give this “issue” anymore air time than it “deserves,” but let me just say: Yes, Rihanna and I are doing fine.

OK, now that we have taken care of that housekeeping, so to speak, let me get down to business: As you undoubtedly glanced by from the title of this music article, I will be discussing some new leaked inside information about Kanye West’s upcoming album. This information, for a series of complicated reasons, is very exclusive and I would imagine this is the only news source that has the dubious scoop:

Kanye’s next album, “Lust,” will contain eleven new tracks and comes out December 25th.

Pretty interesting information. Personally, I’m excited to learn more about this project. Particularly, I would like to know if anyone could possibly verify those facts for me? Let me also take this time to emphasize an important, but completely unrelated point, I am not a music journalist. So, this new Kanye album is going to be awesome.

I recently received a letter from DJ that urged me to go check out the video “Remember The Time” by the late-great Michael Jackson. Back in 6th grade I was really into Egypt. I’m not sure why. I guess I just like middle-eastern countries and wonders of the world. So, anyway, as I’m sure you know, when you get interested in something in 6th grade you end up getting an encyclopedic knowledge of it. Kids are just much better at devouring trivia. That’s why we all still know all the words to Smash Mouth’s “All Star” and Sugar Ray’s “Every Morning” (we do all know those words, right?). Like I was saying, I know pretty much everything there is to know about Egyptian culture….or so I thought! Here are five things I learned about Egyptian history from the “Remember The Time” music video:

5- Michael Jackson Is A Scholar On The Subject

Yes, I knew that Jackson was a fairly decent dancer, a brilliant mathematician and a crack-shot rifleman, but I did not know he was an Egyptian scholar. After watching this 9 plus minute video, I am CONVINCED that Michael knew everything I know about Egypt and much, much more. The first thing you notice in the video is how accurate the architecture is; let’s do a compare/ contrast.

Here’s a screen-shot from Michael’s video:

And (since they didn’t have cameras back then) here’s a screen-shot from the movie “Ten Commandments” (which must be accurate because it’s religious):

Obviously both films are working from the same historically accurate information (or stereotypes).

Jackson didn’t just do his homework on the architecture of the room, he also must have done massive research on his casting. When casting Ramesses The Great, Michael went with funny man Eddie Murphy. Perfect!

4- Egyptians Have Developed Lighter Colored Skin Since

I didn’t release this, but if Michael Jackson did it, it must be true. The “Remember The Time” video is littered with African American superstars. Namely, Michael Jackson, but also Eddie Murphy. And then how about David Bowie’s wife, Iman. More like Ihottie! Am I right? How about someone for those guys who don’t like music, comedy and girls? Bam, we’ve got Magic Johnson!! Then two more famous blacks guys I’ve never heard of: The Pharcyde and Tom “Tiny” Lister, Jr.

Well anyway, like I said, Michael must know Egypt a lot better than me, because I didn’t realize Egyptians were really that black. As I mentioned in the introduction to this piece, Egypt is a middle eastern country, though it is positioned on the tip of the African continent. I wonder why people can never cast Egyptians correct. In the Rugrat’s Passover special the Egyptians are white and in this video they are all black. Why aren’t they ever Arabian like they really are?

Really the only person in the video who looks even remotely Egyptian is Michael (thanks to his skin ailment). Take a look at some real Egyptians. These are the two most famous, their President and their Miss:

3- Ancient Egypt Didn’t Have A Problem With Feminism

Have you noticed how much control the queen in the video has? Now my knowledge of Egyptian culture tells me that Ramesses’s wife is named Nefertari. Or at least that was his principle wife…in other words his favorite out of the other seven wives he had. But man, Iman is empowered in this video! While being fanned by slaves she says, “Oh Eddie Murphy, entertain me!” The pharaoh immediately works to satisfied 1/8th of his wives.

Devils sticks dancer? Not entertained. Fire breather? Not entertained. Michael Jackson…

2- Brendan Fraser Had Nothing To Do With Ancient Egypt

I could have swore he did.

I’m not even going to elaborate. I think Brendan Fraser is just laughable on his own.

1- Michael Jackson Was There

Here’s the real kicker. Michael Jackson doesn’t just know a ton of shit about Egypt through years of research. He knows it from first hand experience! Believe it. Meg just wrote a post about how apparently god-like Michael is, well it looks like she was right. Michael Jackson is the reincarnate form of some Egyptian king. Take a look at this statue and tell me you don’t see the resemblance:

My only conclusion: Once Michael gets done with the complicated process of getting to the Egyptian underworld he will unleash a swarm of pestilence across the globe, eradicating anyone who does not own the “Dangerous” album.

New Jack Swing will be appreciated.

Many of you may not know this, but I’m a pretty well-read guy. I’m not implying I’ve read any particular library of classic books – I’ve made it a point to never read a single Charles Dickens book no matter how many I was assigned throughout high school, I have a particular disdain for Ernest Hemmingway and, frankly James Joyce can suck my hog (I assume based solely on his name that he’s of the homosexual persuasion). However, I do read the news every day. The real news. The New York Times – not Metro NY, The Post, anything posted on CNN or any of that other silly hogwash. (Morris Day and) The Motherfucking Time(s). That shit is the MAD notes!

Anyway, I was reading an article yesterday about Michael Jackson’s memorial (Michael Jackson: The Memorial, rather) and I came to a phrase that was totally worthy of a tweet, however Twitter tells me “Arrow_on_red” and to “watch a video,” which I never do.  So, unable to share this hilarity in my normal manner for quips of such insignificance, I decided to let it stir for an entire day and be evacuated from my body in a long form post. My original tweet will be followed by my elaboration:

yesterday the ny times referred to the michael jackson memorial as an ‘orgy of mourning’ http://bit.ly/ZSqkY sounds like an awful goth band

(Note how I refuse to use proper punctuation for my tweets.)

Indeed, Alessandra Stanley decided to equate the ramblings of a bunch of aging stars and the sobbing of a child to a sex act involving three or more people. For this, I cannot fault her. I’m almost positive it’s the first time I’ve ever laughed while reading the Times – unfortunately for me, I was drinking hot coffee and ended up with second degree burns inside my nose, but that’s neither here nor there. What I can fault her for, is the exact words she used. An orgy of mourning carries a ton of possible connotations. For one, had her left pinky slipped and hit the shift key, she would have ended up with an “orgy of Mourning,” conjuring images of retired Miami Heat basketball star Alonzo Mourning having all kinds of kinky sex with other people with the last name Mourning.

Pimp.

As my tweet above will inform you, though, this was not my initial reaction. At first, I thought it sounded like a bad high school “goth” band. Honestly, I’m not entirely sure what the term goth actually means. In middle school I know we used to call anyone who listened to KoRn goth. I don’t think I used it in high school, but if I did, I’m relatively certain it was in reference to the fat asses who watched Anime (and by association Hentai). In college, I realized both the definitions were wrong as I became more entrenched in what I know as “metal” and listened to idiot girls refer to other idiot girls who happened to be wearing a black t-shirt as goth.

Now, I tend to associate it with darker rock acts and (at the risk of upsetting either a frigheningly fat or skinny mongrel of an outcast) some more feminine black metal acts and people who still insist on wearing trench coats and ponytails. (Ghaal, I’m looking directly at you.) With that, let me set the scene for how Orgy of Mourning came to be:

Greg Schmidt (or Devastatorious as he liked to be called, not realizing how retarded and off-base it was) was a skinny lad, aged 15. At one time, he was very much into N*SYNC, but never told anyone. As a direct result, he was driven head first by the denial of his own homosexuality to black metal. First it was just once in a while, when he was bored of his Metallica CDs, but with the advent of high speed Internet and P2P networks, he found he needed to own and know everything about every band ever, which brought him to his current position in life – trolling message boards, blogs and news sites to point out whenever someone forgot to mention the latest Abigail Williams release.

One particularly rainy afternoon, Devastatorious was ham-handedly playing something resembling a ham-handed Mayhem song on his Line6 Pod Pro, which he got on eBay for “like half of list price.” As he came to what some would call a chorus, his buddy Mike Shea (Khhal for our purposes) came running down with a great idea, “Let’s start our own band!” Of course, this sounded like a great idea to Devastatorious. “Ok, well first things first – we need a totally bitchin’ name,” he explained.

“Well, yeah of course. What should we call ourselves?”
“The most dark and hardcore thing ever.”
“Nothing was darker than when my mother mourned the loss of Sprinkles (the shivering family Teacup Something or other).”
“Fuck yeah, the idea of mourning is deep as hell.”
“What else should we include?”
“How about something sexual? Not because we’ll end up having sex six months from now, or anything.”

As he said this, Greg shot a look to the right to avoid eye contact with his new bandmate. Mike continued looking at him awkwardly for a moment before breaking the silence:

“This might not be cool, but check it out.”
“Ok”
“Remember that totally gay band from back in the day Orgy.”
“Yea, they suck.” No they don’t, he thought to himself.
“Well, how about we take ‘Orgy’ back and make it cool again?”

As if they had both sprung rods simultaneously, Greg and Mike looked up from their in-progress black painted nails and exclaimed triumphantly:

“ORGY OF MOURNING!”

-END-

And that’s how I imagined that going.