Another verbose article full of hyperbole… and quite a bit of obscenity

I dedicate this to “Pete” who I sincerely hope goes and fucks himself.

The novelty of having your own apartment is quickly extinguished after you take your first crap with the bathroom door open and jerk off in your kitchen a couple times.  After about a week of that you realize, not only are you a depressed, pathetic pervert but also a disgusting human being.  Having roommates keeps both of those things tempered somewhat.  Without them, my inner slob is allowed unimpeded flow throughout the halls of my apartment.

So, I’ve taken to decorating, which is a delightful activity despite the fact I often find myself climbing on top of things drunk – I have stumpy little arms that can’t reach anything, attached to a hobbit like frame, yet I live in an apartment with ceilings high enough I’m considering raising a giraffe in my pantry.  I need a step ladder.  I would drink less but it helps me deal with the fact that the most expensive thing in my apartment right now is a rug.  I hope it was woven out of pony fur and is being held together with virgin spit because if not, I doubt I can live with the fact I paid over a hundred dollars for a fuzzy brown pattern to put on my floor (apparently it’s actually made out of something called Olefin which I’m pretty sure was the name of a bad guy in a Bond film).

Floors help us cope with our ever present struggle against gravity, providing an important surface for passing out on and making sure we don’t fall into our basements.  I’m not really sure where rugs come into play but I have one now so I guess I’m civilized.  Maybe it’s because I walk around like Charlie Brown all the time looking at my feet that I decided to enliven the perpendicular plane beneath me.  I still can’t help but think that decorating the ground is a bit like polishing your asshole (sometimes my analogies don’t make a whole lot of sense and you should probably know that I don’t care).  It has also seriously limited the space I have for drunkenly practicing my soon to be mad-awesome moonwalking skills.

My dining room, which has massive floor to ceiling mirrors in it, great for scaring the shit out of yourself when you walk from the shower to your bedroom naked, is completely empty except for my bicycle, which has become about as useful to me as a celibate hooker.  For some reason I don’t ever feel the urge to ride anywhere in Austin like I did in Albany.  Of course, I was situated in prime biking real estate back in New York.  Friends, bars, and unsavory Price Chopper parking lots were all a short ride away.  I live in North-East Austin though, which is about as happening a place as my bedroom.  If I wanted to ride my bike down a fucking thruway I suppose I could hit up downtown proper, which is apparently a whole bag full of awesome for any bicycle enthusiast.  Or, you know, I could take a leisurely ride down the street I live on and enjoy the campus of Dell Headquarters.  I think there’s a cement factory after that.

Those mirrors however, are great for scribbling nonsensical poetry and/or physics equations on at three in the morning.  I bought a set of multicolored dry erase markers just for this.  Sometimes I get bored of that though and start tracing body parts on it instead… at least those that will fit (barely veiled big dick joke taken care of).

It may be apparent at this point that I’m trying to be obscene simply for the sake of it.  I’m going to blame television for this, despite the fact that I don’t own one.  I’ve started thinking that everybody has the sort of obscene thoughts as the ones I’ve written, if not worse, and maybe it is of some comfort to see them written down.  This probably isn’t true, and is only a projection of my own character flaws.  I think it would help if these perversions existed to obfuscate some underlying point, but unfortunately I haven’t found much point to anything lately.  The smut I have written is simply that.  It’s a page full of profanity and crudity constructed in a vain attempt to elicit a laugh.  While I used to choose my words carefully, and on occasion created a meaningful sentence that resonated with sincerity, they seem now to fall upon the page with little regard for any sort of substance.  It’s hard to write anything genuine when you stare into life and see nothing staring back.  Maybe Pete is right after all.  There’s this possum (or opossum, I can never remember which is the American one) that lives in the brush somewhere near my apartment.  When I sit on my porch and drink late into the night, he often makes an appearance.  He usually sits on the lawn, stares into the distance, and busies himself with absolutely nothing.  He seems to exist without any clue as to why he is, but I get a sense of smugness from him, and profound happiness.  I often look at him and hope he’ll reveal something to me – tell me something I’ve been missing this past year or so.  Maybe he has some great knowledge hidden away somewhere.  But then I remember he’s just a possum.  He eats trash.  So, I go and trace my hand on my mirror.

Recap: Evolution at Jillian’s

On Friday, March 4, hundreds of people wandered out of winter hibernation with curiosity, a hunger for something different and a desire to dance.  Jillian’s, in recent months, has been changing its scene, being jolted back to life as a prevailing music venue in the Capital Region.

The full album is on Andrew’s flickr — go find the pictures of you and your friends! Thanks to Justin for reaching out and throwing a huge event!

For this evening’s event, Vúdoo Productions transformed the dance club into a mini electronic festival, with a commitment including displayed art, a deco installation, a down tempo artist’s lounge, on-the-spot massages from Dustin Campbell and Jessah Price of The Bear’s Massage, body painting, video projections by Drew Suto, Psydream and Psydrack, various fire performances, a Tree Shurt merch table and an eclectic mix of electronic musicians.  Evolution grew out of a series of parties held at Red Square, called Cosmic Wave, and is bringing something that is huge in other places but new to Albany.

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Interestingness in the local news vol 2

after people are discovering that north albany is ‘cool’, chris churchill asks a bunch of old white people if they’d live in albany, infuriating answers insue [tu] ps i lived in north albany before mcgearys was cool. twssss.

a company from manhattan is deciding what’s best for troys riverfront park [tu]

new diet craze: 500kcal/day and preggo hormones [nyt] ps i lost weight from eating less and riding my bike more

not so local:
idatarod started and is now high techer than ever [engadget]

you can rent movies on facebook, why? [iclarified]

footage from the 4 horsemen alleycat in nyc

completely unrelated time waster: this ragdoll bike game rules [canvasrider]

Preview: The Sunspot Cafe on Quail

If you happened to have skated by the icy block of Quail and Elberon recently, you’ll have seen through the giant glass windows of the once lax building on the corner, people working late into the night hours prepping for business.

“A lot of people have walked into the shop thinking we are open,” said Kasey Kohler, manager of the highly anticipated Sunspot Cafe, which will officially open its doors today, March 8 at 8 a.m. “A lot of people have been coming in already, thinking it looks cool inside.  People have been waiting for this and we had to push the opening date back a few times due to building the fireplace.”


photos by andrew franciosa

The fireplace is symbolic of the labor of love that has gone into getting this place off the ground.  Kasey talked about how since it was such a huge project, one that the owner, Tom Genovese, took on himself, that after months of construction, it was clear the fireplace’s end result was reflective of the challenge.

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Scotty’s Music Mondays: Mixtape Re-ups

I was out of commission with the flu last week, but here’s what you may have missed in the world of club music outside Albany.

-MikeQ blew up himself and Ballroom music with this debut exclusive mix for XLR8R. Sounds like Ballroom is in the running for most blogged subgenre for 2011. I’ve been emailing back in forth with Mike trying to get him to take a train up to Albany to play at Fuze, fingers crossed.
Mix at XLR8R.

-Ghosts on Tape and Rollie Fingers, who just had MikeQ at Icee Hot in SF this weekend, did a new mix of deep, cosmic, and completely not-corny house music. Recommended. If you haven’t heard Predator Mode by Ghosts on Tapes, or really any of his remixes, treat yourself right and check them out. Trust me, you’ll be seeing more of him in the future so get familiar now 😉
GHOSTS ON TAPE AND ROLLIE FINGERS PRESENT: BUDDY HOUSE II: BUDDY HOUSE IS A FEELING by ICEEHOT

-Night Slugs takeover on Boiler Room = yes. This aired on Tuesday, at the climax of my flu, and I completely zoned out, I watched all 4 DJ’s from beginning to end. Bok Bok and Egyptrixx (check his new Album NOW!) were dope, but I really liked Girl Unit and Jam City’s sets.

Shout out to everyone who voted for us in the Metroland too! That was a fun surprise.