Earlier in the week DJ brought to my attention a startling fact: apparently you people are not very literate. Well either that or the content on this site is just too stupid- though no particular post comes to mind. Here’s the evidence:

88% Basic 11% Intermediate 1% Posts by Patty O’Leary

Not looking good. Well, luckily I work in a library and I happened to have some archive access. That’s right! I have access to archived books- really famous manuscripts that have never been released! So, in an effort to boost our reading level, I stole this exclusive chapter excerpt from Herman Melville’s classic Moby Dick. These particular chapters were censored from the original publication because they describe the whale’s penis and Ishmael’s diatribe on whale semen. It’s pretty boring stuff, but I can guarantee you that this is 100% real. I stole these documents from the library I work at and copied them here, word for word, verbatim. Enjoy:

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This year the opening credits to Saturday Night Live open with Jewish me, Fred Armisen. Quite like me, Fred is seen leafing through a box of vinyl records, presumably in New York City. It is clear that the record store is not very organized because the titles are ordered PEARL JAM, SEX PISTOLS, JOY DIVISION. The closest sensible reason I can think of for that way of alphabetizing is that the second word in the second pair begins with the first letter of the first word in the first pair and the third pair begins with the first letter of the second word in the first pair, but that pattern doesn’t continue unless you replace Joy Division with someone like Joe Satriani, which is obviously stupid because why would Fred Armisen listen to him? Pearl Jam and the Sex Pistols seem like viable options, especially because Fred has been known to guest star in quirky and fun little indie music videos, which I will not link to.

If you stick with me you will be replaying this video a lot. Don’t worry the 2009 version still applies.

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I like to dance, so sue me!!!!!!

Hahaha, I’m sorry, that first line just cracked me up. But seriously folks, I do; I do love to dance. Dancing is my natural passion. In fact, if I were to have my own Vitamin Water it would have only two ingredients: passion fruit and dancing…and water. It wouldn’t taste very good, but it would sum up my feelings on dancing very well. When I hear music, my body naturally wants to move. I wiggle and jiggle, I bop and be. Do I follow many dancing conventions? No, of course not. Do I flail, air-hump and turn my body into a human gyroscope? Yes. Yes, I do. I know I busted a move (or two, LOL) this weekend, but I’m beginning to think my techniques are being subtly mocked. Are those fun-loving party people laughing with me? Or are those ugly, prudish, boneheads laughing at me? Let’s figure it out:

Working at 12% of my dancing potential.

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Greetings citizen, yesterday DJ, our friend (but not blog-writer) Luke and I went on one of our weekly hikes and boy-howdy was it a good one. What set this particular hike apart was that I learned a new skill: the ability to track. As of now, I am a bonafide tracker. I can track most anything. You name it, I’ll track it. I’m a regular trackster. But, before I start getting into all the technical mumbo-jumbo, let me start with a definition (most critically acclaimed essays begin by stating a definition directly borrowed from Wikipedia).

Tracking, in hunting and ecology, is the science and art of observing a place through animal footprints and other signs, including: tracks, beds, chews, scat, hair, etc. Specifically, mapping a changing landscape and soaking up sensory data like a sponge.

Wow, exciting right? Let me explain some of the ways I’ve already begun tracking in my everyday life.

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My last installment of “What Not To Listen To: Static X” was featured on the old site and was one of the few things that didn’t make it over to the new one when we switched last August. So, I’ll be posting that as soon as I find the original document.

What Not To Listen To is my opportunity to pick a horrible, obviously hated band and just tear them to shreds for both musical and non-musical reasons. Wayne Static and Static X had it coming from day one and so has Papa Roach. I understand the easiness of tearing down each of these bands, but I’m gonna do it anyway.

This is not photoshopped.

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[About a month ago I removed Patty from our "About" page. About two days ago, she noticed and got in a tizzy demanding that she be put back on it. I have a feeling she misses all the "creepy" dudes finding her on Facebook and sending her lewd emails. But that's besides the point; clearly, she doesn't deserve to be there. I told her that if she started contributing, I might put her back on. In a fit of rage, she cranked out this gem of a piece and demanded we do a podcast on Long Island. Both ended up being equally genius. And so, Patty is now included on the "About" once again. -DJ]

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According to this AFP article (I can only imagine AFP stands for Associated Fucking Press), 119 college presidents and other big wigs signed some gimmick asking for the legal drinking age to be lowered. Of course, some soccer mom has a huge problem with it, because she doesn’t understand how great booze is.

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