Thought Sausage

Okay, in previous years, I've never attempted to do a day-by-day recap of Ragbrai, however I think I've sufficiently recovered to where I can recount the pertinent details of each day (although this is certainly going to be a blur mid-week). The pics are here.

Day 01 (Friday)
See post rant about the massive clusterfuck that was attempting to get the bus in order. We began motoring bikes and gear up to Pressure around 1 (where the bus was parked). We _WERE_ going to begin this operation around 10, however Ian's iphone apparently wasn't acknowledging people calling. This curiousity proceeded to create all kinds of fun for the remainder of the day. While getting things to Pressure, we still hadn't procured a driver for the week. James (longtime friend and manager of Pressure) once again deployed his "I-can-pull-the-pope-out-of-my-ass-if-you-need-him" skillz and produced somebody willing to drive. This artisan was named Brent. Brent had literally just moved to Chicago the week prior. He is originally from New Orleans and was summarily wiped out in Katrina. From what I gather, he'd spent the interim time between Austin Texas and San Francisco with relatives. He arrived in Chicago and was couch surfing until he got on his feet. So what the fuck right? Why not drive a bus for a bunch of complete strangers with a whacky looking bus, nice bikes and what appeared to be a steady stream of beer? Brent was up to the task and 5 minutes later we had ourselves a driver. Now at this point, Brent was only going to drive us to Lisbon Iowa (where we were to meet the Tallywhackers to motor out to the west end of the state). Brent had no qualms with that as we had a car ready for him to drive back with.

We packed up the gear and were off to the races. Getting out of Chicago didn't seem as harrowing as getting in, although its worth noting that converted school buses aren't really made for smooth rides. The net result of which is that riding in the city is a bumpy-ass ride. Nevertheless, the next hours were spent drinking booze, watching Big Trouble in Little China and playing the shocker game. It's funny how that game gets more and more amusing the drunker you get. I did note that Ragbrai wasn't as warm this time out. It was probably more due to the fact I hadn't eaten anything all day and put away 12 beers or so, but I started getting chills. So I was huddled in a sleeping bag half the way.

Around 1:45 we arrived in Lisbon to meet Dave and Kim @ their local bar. Somewhat drunk by now, it was decided that Brent would be driving the whole week because he did such a bang up job getting us to Lisbon. Plus we liked the dude and didn't want to see him leave yet. We then hung out and drank @ Dave and Kim's until 4-5am or so, since we had to get up and on the road by 9 to complete the 7+ hour drive to be in time for something I'm not quite sure of to this day. But them donuts got made. It was somewhere in this haze of early/late hours that Travis began reciting the tuba song anytime a fat person was in the general vicinity. He does it quite well too. Really sounds like a tuba. Some sort of cheek/air/tongue procedure. This ritual stayed with us well into Wednesday (and may have re-appeared on Friday).

Day 02 Saturday
We awake in a fucked up haze. Ben and Shelly have arrived to ride with us so we climb on the bus and drive to a neighboring town where the Tallywhackers bus is. After procuring some breakfast pizzas @ the Casey's, posing for pictures on a tractor from 1845 and making fun of the Barney Fief cop, we were underway. This was our massive 7 hour ride. You may be asking yourself how we pissed what with all the booze. Well Paddy installed a makeshift toilet on the bus that consisted of a funnel, a hose and those little blue things you see in urinals. Boy howdy did that beat the "pissing in bottles" routine from last year. No help for the women folk though (of which we had 3 of at this point). The Tallywhackers had a full blown toilet on their bus which was much more practical. Between stops @ gas stations for food/more beer we would hop between buses. The crew was collectively around 40 now. The trip was pretty uneventful, except when the Tallywacker bus blew a tire. They fixed it in short order, but it was an omen of bus woes to come.

We arrived in George Iowa early evening, pitched tents, rode on playground equipment and hit the bar. This bar was run by what looked like Papa Smurf on crack, which mattered little to me because that fucker was selling us vodka redbulls for 2 bucks a piece! The bar was pretty packed with other riders, and by this point we had met up with Team Pucker as well. I don't really recall how the night ended, but I DO know at one point, Brent and myself attempted to climb the fence to swim in the municiple pool. This resulted in my foot hurting like a motherfucker for a couple days and Brent not being able to walk at all. That's about all I have to say about that night.

Day 03 (Sunday, first actual ride day).
We (and by we, I really mean me) are still drunk and so the first 10 miles of the ride basically involve me yelling the nickname I had given Travis ('ol Back Pussy...yes we were watching Borat). See, this shit is why you shouldn't bring children on the ride. I'm just sayin ya know? We sweat out the booze and made it to Farm Boys. Farm Boys, for those who don't know, make breakfast burritos that are a slice of heaven itself. I eat them somewhat depressed because I know it will be a year until I have a breakfast burrito (or any burrito for that matter) that will taste near this good. One thing about Farm Boys is that they always have their station setup pretty far (for the morning) into the ride. So you really gotta want it. But soooooooo worth it. We eat up and move on.

We went through all the perusual towns. Also taken in was Tender Tom's Turkey. Tender Tom is a cherub of all that is good food. Holy shit you haven't had a turkey sandwich until you have one of this bastard's. I'm just sayin is all.

The first host town was Spencer Iowa. Unfortunately we lost Marty somewhere on the route. He completely missed us or something. Also happened he didnt' have his wallet. So he rode straight into Spencer without stopping. When the rest of the crew arrived we met up with the bus (after the usual "where's the bus parked" clusterfuck) and somehow ended up in a church parking lot that claimed to have a spaghetti dinner going on. We walked around back to where said spaghetti was to be served. Also performing was one of those "mosh for jesus" christian rock bands. You know, the kind that has all female followers not because the chicks are down for the cause, but because the think the pretty boy singer is cute? Yeah that was the craic. They were out of spaghetti but were selling corn on the cob, and when on the ride, you don't pass that shit up. So I got in on that shit...jesus rock or not.

We met up with where the Tallywackers (I am spelling this interchangeably because it's late and I can't be bothered with figuring out the right way so sue me) were camping. They had friends in town with a really nice house and were sitting out back with them. Some of us humped down to the high school where they had showers to use. Community showers. I did my best to freak out the locals by threatening to re-enact the American History X shower rape scene. Once squeaky clean, we drank in the backyard with the Tallywackers and then the girl who lived there drove us up to the festivities in Spencer for that night. Brent stayed behind because he still couldn't walk after fucking his foot up. I got me some Godfather's Pizza cos they don't have those in Chicago and that pizza is and always will be the shiznit for chains. Hung out in the beer garden where they had one of those 40-something-dudes-playing-punk-and-hip-hop bands to the masses. Not that they were bad or anything. Quite the contrary. We closed that thing down, and then managed to find a shuttle back to the bus. Most went to bed, but some of us stayed up and drank with the Tally's and the owners of the house.

Day 04 Monday
Got up, a little groggier than Sunday morning and not quite as chipper. The morning ride to Farm Boys was pretty uneventful. Once at Farm Boys, we hung about for a bit, had our burrito's, drank some gatorade. At this juncture, Roly and I decided to use the bathroom (on ragbrai, that means bushes). As we're walking over, a woman who clearly didn't know she was behind us (like 10 feet behind her) drops her shorts and starts pissing...I don't know who this unnamed ass/anus combo was, but we just proceeded on. Roly says to me "jesus its really gushing out of her"...yeah I turned around and saw what had to be the biggest torrential piss ever to emerge from a body in the history of humankind. Not to get all gross (and I'm pretty sure this is a fetish for some readers), but jesus christ. Farm Boys on Monday will live in our memories as the day we witnessed the most massive piss geyser ever to occur in a natural setting.

The rest of the day was spent riding through various little towns and drinking them out of house and home. We finally arrived in Humbolt fairly late in the night. This was a result of a "shortcut" that was actually a long-ass way around that involved a bike trail (one of those shitty ones with the rocks everywhere). I flatted which sucked. The good news is that Ian and I managed to slap a new tube on and inflate in record time (well, for Spokeeasy at least). But fuck trails and fuck shortcuts.

The host town was Humbolt Iowa. We were lucky enough to have a townie who let us stay in his front yard, provided we weren't too loud because he had to work @ 6:30 the next morning. It bears mentioning that upon touring our bus and noting the TV and DVD player, I was told the mom and son both went into a speech about all the porn they have in the house and how "they like to watch the Paris Hilton one". Mmmmmkay...thanks mom. Turned out the Choads were parked right next to us, so I said hi to Kremer and that whole gang. Seemed their bus broke down on the way out, and they convinced some backwoods family to sell their rusted out Suburban to them for 700 bucks so they could soldier on. Somewhere along the line Kremer procured a 70's vintage camper for 1000 bucks too. Neither appeared exactly street legal, but that isn't a principle that ever really did apply to Team Bloody Choad so there the devil drives. They all went into some town 20 miles away and apparently attempted to get kicked out of Hy-Vee.

Got some food and wandered down to a karaoke bar. I had lost my voice that day so I did a very Greg-Brady version of The Love Boat Theme Song, Eye of the Tiger and the Golden Girls theme song. My biggest fan was a hardcore dart-league dyke who was absolutely convinced my name was Jake. We chugged a few vodka lemonades and then some douche-bag college group came in with the flipped up collars. I wasn't really feeling the vibe so I made my way back to where the buses were to sit in some lawn chairs and sip beers with whoever was there. En route, I got to watch a pretty cool white trash fight between some snaggle-toothed moron and a neanderthal who'd "Stolen his girl". Total Jerry Springer shit..no joke. There may as well have been a midget who wanted to marry his pet goat coming up next. I'm pretty sure the cops eventually showed up and doled out a country ass-whuppin to both of 'em but I didn't stick around to see.

Back at camp some Tallywackers were up drinkin so I pulled up a beer and joined them. All was well until we encounted "Fast Eddie". Anywhere besides Humbolt, I'm pretty sure "Fast Eddie" would be called "Coke'd out since he lost the arm in 'Nam Eddie", but that's now how they roll here. I'm speaking of this man. Eddie was the neighbor of the people's house we were at. He came over to hang with us around midnight or so. Fast Eddie was so full of quotes, I can only recall the highlights, but they did include:

-"Hey look at me, I may have had 3 heart attacks in the last 2 years, but fuck it, I can still do coke twice a week and it don't do shit to me!"

-"Let me tell you about Filipino women cos I got one for a wife, those bitches can cook!"

-"I met my wife and she was living in a garage in LA to escape her home country. I took her here with me, and she's thankful. And THAT'S how you get a wife that don't mouth off!"

-"Do you know the three H's of Marijuana? Happiness, Horniness and Hungriness. Looks like the hungriness got the best of you you fat fucker!"

-"Shit, I bet you got a wife at home that can't give her pussy away because you're too busy eating food you asshole!"

-"Hey, my wife said if I come party with you guys she's leaving me, there goes the bitch in the car right now"

-(repeated every 5 minutes) FAST EDDIE TR25 COMING OUT OF HUMBOLT!

-(repeated every 10) NOBODY FORGETS FAST EDDIE!

-"Hey I'm your friend, that's why I tell you this shit you fat motherfucker!"

-"Hey come here, why don't one of you bitches suck on my titties for a change!"

Travis was writing them down as he went. Suffice to say, Fast Eddie was clearly not intended for mass consumption. We never did ask him what happened to his arm, but I'm guessing gangrene and a heroin addiction were involved.

Day 05 (Tuesday)
Woke up earlier today I noticed. The ride got pretty heated up mid-day I remember. Travis and I wore our Sesame Street Jerseys which was actually pretty popular (He was Super Grover, I was Oscar). I had TWO farm boys burritos this day. They are that fucking good. The morning ride was particularly taxing (for this ride) as it was hilly and we had a headwind all day. We rode into eagle grove, had a couple beers and began to ride out when we discovered a fucking water park. Needless to say, Travis Ian and myself spent the next 45 minutes going down water slides. Fucking awesome way to spend a mid-day on the ride. Easily a highlight. Rode into the next town which was mid-day. seemed some of the Tallywackers had fallen behind so I spent the majority of the time pounding beers and replacing the sunglasses I accidentally threw away with my burrito garbage (d'oh!). There were a few teams rounded up @ this point. Once everyone was together, we rode on with a full crew. I don't recall anything particularly noteworthy happening that afternoon. We did encounter a slip 'n slide where I acquired some cuts/bruises because a tarp laid out over some mud may hide rocks so you don't see them but it sure as fuck won't keep you from feeling them. FUCKERZ

The host town for the night was Hampton, and the tip we got was not to go there. Seemed the local barney fief cops were out for justice all Buford Pusser style and were gonna arrest anything with a beer. Fuck that noise. So we met up with the bus on the stop before Hampton and motored into Ardale which was the first stop of the next day and set up camp there. They had a bar there called Ducks and that was pretty much it. The Tallywackers and Subtle Savages went off to some house party. So we pretty much had the run of Ducks because Ardale has like 10 people in it. Upon arriving the following conversation took place between Marty and a little boy whose mom had just shaved his head out on the front porch:

Marty:"Hey there is that a basketball?"
Little boy: "Are you from England?"
Marty: "No I'm from Ireland, do you know where Ireland is?"
Little boy: "Are there going to be Asian people coming too?"
.......

We proceeded to get tanked in Ducks until close. The staff was extremely friendly and made sure we were well fed and taken care of. They even offered free drinks in the AM.

You shouldn't put your dick on an electric fence. that was another major takeaway from that night. It may seem like a cool way to impress your friends, but it's a lot less painful to learn a magic trick or something instead.

We crashed around 3am and had to drive a little bit to the proper route for the next day's ride.

So that's the first half of the week. I'll post the rest tomorrow (and by tomorrow I mean, next time I coin this).

I know this is old news...but its been awhile since this ass clown made an appearance on here. If you live anywhere near Pilsen, you no doubt listen to all the Mexicans blaring that oompa music they listen to in their not-so-insulated 70's cars. This is basically the same thing with a retard rapping about what is probably how he wants to tap some ass.

And now you know why the latin/american cross-over market is so small kids.

While he's been a subject of ridicule around the sausage for some time now, I happened across the store where he sells his wears. If you're in need of some threads that will peg you as the absolute pinnacle of trailer trash go ahead and pick up a "Team Warrior" long sleeve.

But the part I found most amusing was the FAQ. Specifically this little gem:

"*** Although Team Warrior America is a peacekeeping organization to inspire courageous and prejudiced, yet polite, defense of American Patriotism, all shirts bloodied due to ‘refreshing the tree of liberty’ are replaced free of charge. Two shirt replacement if Islamofascist blood. Place shirt in Ziploc bag and send to “Team Warrior America Tree of Liberty Blood Donor.” Include story of battle fought, Warrior Patriot’s name and address. New shirt to 'refresh' ships out immediately. "

So I think that means if you get in a fight with an Islamic person and blood gets on your Team Warrior shirt (and of course you'd be wearing your Ultimate Warrior shirt when roughing up arab people...why the fuck wouldn't you?), you get two free ones in the mail.

Between Chris Benoit and the Ultimate Warrior's Store Return Policy, I think we can go ahead and close the book on the question of whether or not steriods make people excessively violent.

Sorry for the lack of updates. I know I still owe part two of the Ragbrai saga. Been busy...swimming is kicking my fat ass back into "not-so-careless-with-diet" ass. Plus I've been out and about. Been playing guitar a lot more now that I'm almost to the point of having acquired the necessary gear to actually create things...so chops are coming together. That is...um...strange since it has now been nearly 3 years since the last time I was on a stage playing music and almost 3 1/2 since the last IK album came out (holy shit time flies).

Be that as it may...updates soon...

Well...it would appear the vid of the dude photocopying his ass had an anti-leach iframe that caused it to redirect to www.killmyday.com (an aptly titled site). Apparently they have a disdain for people scraping their vids (as if I didn't know why that would be). That learned me but good.

Sorry 'bout that folks. Hopefully those who wanted to have casual sex with pornstars were able to fill the void thsi afternoon. My bad

however, one thing I've decided to change around here is that I will now approve all comments. This is to keep this site deliciously spam-free, as it is beginning to grow in size and get run-over by spammers. That shouldn't affect most of you, but there ya go.

In no particular order...

-= I shampoo'd my carpet for the first time ever. Holy fucking shit that is awesome. Sucked all kinds of ass to go over and over stains that were comprised of god-knows-what (beer puke pizza most likely) but jesus its like a whole new pad in here. I feel like a rich kid.

-= When you are forced to work with somebody basically to clean up all their fuck ups, they can become very defensive. This becomes incredibly trying when said person not only attempts to polish their turds, but also throw in a dash of righteous indignation. It's times like these I'm thankful I have an account coordinator to filter all my colorful language into a pleasant PC tone.

-=Amy Winehouse is the single most annoying bitch on the planet. I've -heard- that rehab song of hers (by accident in bars usually) and it makes me want to remove the singers tongue with a spoon. Now that I know that shitty-tat havin, horse tranquilizer takin', Morticia Addams wannabe stylin bitch is behind it, my hatred has reached new lows.

-=Rove is out. Um....so what is this guy gonna do now? Please tell me release a hip hop album...

-=Once again I'm going to attempt to cook a vegetarian dinner this week. I'll spend the rest of the night hunting a recipie that A. Looks like I can make and eat without wincing in front of Megan (not too hard) and B. Make without fucking up the entire apt (rather hard)

-=I saw the Sox get killed on Sunday. Bummer. Good day for baseball though. Sadly its my only game so far of the season. Ah well...

-=I also finally took in the Six Flags water park on Saturday. Roly and I have been threatening to conquer a water park for 3 years now and we set our sights on Hurricane Harbor. Oddly enough, the pricing of the park is $54.99 for one day, or you can buy the 6 day pass for (ahem) $54.99. At the same place...from the same guy. Yeah I know...I thought the same thing. But now I have to come with 5 ways to get to Six Flags between now nad Oct 28th. Looks like a new bike path is gonna be needed!

-=Demetri Martin and Mike Birbiglia are two funny motherfuckers. Pick up their CDs...run don't walk

-=There are TONS of supposed Chinese Democracy songs running rampant on youtube now. And I've scoped them all. Some impress, some not so much. But to put it in perspective...we ain't talkin about anything on par with Smile.

-=I still think I'm going to hold off on the iphone.

drops some science on the beckams

Spent the weekend in the Quad Cities ( with Megan). My roadbike was along with me for the trip but since I A. Forgot to bring a pump device with the right size and B. It decided to rain all Sunday (today, well yesterday technically), I didn't get a ride in. Pity really.

Good times all around. I stayed with my parents. Their house is in a constant state of evolution. Since I was there last, they installed hard wood floors, painted walls and my dad's rather sizable car collection grew by one BMW that has a computer that basically makes big brother look like a red headed step cousin. Holy shit cars are smart now. Funny thing, nobody ever seems to see the house in a state of flux. My cousin noted that everytime he's there, something new will have been done, and plans are laid for the next big overhaul, yet nobody ever sees the house in-between projects. Everything is always pristine. Weird..

We took in all the usuals. One of the cool things about the Quad Cities is the Genghis Mongolian BBQ which as disgusting as it sounds, is actually my favoritist restaurant in all the land. May god have mercy on those poor cooks if Horowitz ever goes there. That $9.99 bottomless bowl will cost them an arm and a leg. AWESOME AWESOME AWESOME. Why there aren't any mongolian bbq's in Chicago within my sphere of knowledge is beyond me, as I would gladly drive to any neighborhood in the city to eat @ one (like, I'd even go to Garfield Park). Must be a suburban thing...

Am still taking baby steps back into music. Today I learned that I thoroughly hate LIne 6's version of recording software. The scenes (mixing/sequencing) don't like, sync up out-of-the-box which seems, I dunno, retarded? I'm just using the cheesy little Albeton Live Lite thingy until I get a full version of a DAW to my liking (most likely Sonar or Cubase) on here. So far, I've just been re-acquainting myself with tones and getting used to the concept of actually being able to dial in sounds that represent the noises in my head again. I've basically had all my effects and outboard shit in the closet since moving to Chicago and have been playing straight into an amp all this time. While it is certainly cathartic, the music my brain tends to crank out calls on more than that (as much as I'd like to wish otherwise).

As far as the Line 6 gear I bought, I gotta say I do dig the Gear Box interface. They have a whole line of plugins you can buy, most of which seem like a heaping stack of gay, nonetheless, I'm not having any trouble getting sounds that represent what I'm looking for (although there is no doubt that reverb and delay wannabe-analog software plugs don't do their analog counterparts justice whatsoever, but that's another conversation). But in the way of accurately representing the chain (i.e. putting modulation in front of a reverb and vice versa), I'm quite content. The amp sims are your typical "don't have the license from Mesa Boogie or Marshall" affair, so you get shit like "British Tweed' and "Modern American" amps. Insofar though, I can't bitch about the amp sounds. We simulated amps on both Inner-kube albums and while the first one was (admittedly) a lame Tech 21 attempt, we got some pretty raw gutteral sounds on Hell's Own Drag. I'm not having any trouble tapping into and beyond that. Speaking of old IK stuff, I'm toying with the idea of pulling out some old songs and tweaking/rewriting them. Or at least tearing out the cool ideas and working them into my current mindset. I'm sure somebody somewhere will have some huge problem with that, but the songs I would hack away at would be ones that I thought never got properly represented on an album, so it wouldn't be like, ones that were anybody's favorite (at least I wouldn't think so).

Having said that, I think my process for wading back into this whole crazy music thing is going to be entirely different than what I did before. Back in 'the day', I basically cranked out a song as soon as its impetus was there. That is, if I had a riff or a vibe that I wanted to convey, I would usually compose the whole song (sans lyrics/vocals) in one sitting. I can't think of a single song that didn't go that way, save for Familiar Thoughts of Id, which Schmudde hacked left 'n right and made it what it was. This time around I think I'm going to take my time. Lay out lots of riffs, reject things that suck, add in what is cool...re-arrange things over and over until I'm happy etc etc. The reason for this is because I'm not working on any self-imposed deadline. It used to be that I was always trying to keep songs coming because when we weren't playing tons of shows, I figured that was a time to crank out as many tunes as possible. This sometimes worked but mostly failed (IM oh so HO). Since I don't play shows, have a band, or have to put a record out to keep the whole thing moving along...I'm gonna take my time and create things for the sole purpose of making myself happy. From there...who the fuck knows.

That said...I DO have to buy a bass. I have like, 3 of them strewn about Iowa in various places, but rather than try to track them down (in their various states of disarray), I figure I may as well nut up and buy one that I know hasn't been beat to hell with beer in all the crevices and start from scratch. I have about 4 I'm looking at and will probably pull the trigger on that purchase tomorrow.

Fun fun fun!

If you ever find yourself in a situation that requires you to purchase this book for your child, well...more's the pity.

I'm guessing this is what the Christian Coalition would call "progressive parenting" (or whatever stupid buzzword they use to describe un-gaying your child)

Or something like that...(random Drive-By Truckers wisdom)

I've come to one conclusion in my forray back into music. And that's that my current software arsenal is shit. Gear Box (the Line 6 stuff) is actually quite good, but my drum samples are shit, my sample sets are shit and I need a DAW that isn't a heaping piece of latent garbage.

Problem is my previous computer rig is loaded with software that's 7 years old that doesn't acknowledge the existance of things that came along in the past 7 years (go figure). Said computer rig is sitting in the closet doing a whole lot of taking up space. So that's no good. I'm not going to stray too far from home, which means I'll load up a new version of Reason and Cubase and call it square. So long as they'll let me run an ASIO soundcard, fuck it...

So basically I'm in a holding pattern until I get software that doesn't make me wanna throw my computer off the balcony. I've got some things accumlating, but I can't like be all that constructive until the environs are suited for it.

In other news, if you haven't bought Patterson Hood's Killers and Stars and Jason Isbell's Sirens of the Ditch whack those Amazon links or go to itunes and remedy that shit. Had both on rotation all day @ work (at least the parts of the day that didn't have me bogged down in meetings...jesus christ meetings are the cancer of productivity). Fucking awesome. Southern acoustic/blues rock for what ales ye.

Let this represent the first and last time I'm ever going to post a link to a "song" that in any way involves Britney Spears. But this new song is so horrible it's almost comical. I suppose what we have here is the Etta James wannabe phase of Britney's career (which is really kind of a misnomer at this point). Not only is the production insanely tinny with a craptastic sample set even by the pop-o-matic standards of the Matrix twins (or whatever they call themseles) or whoever is producing this bitch these days, but the lyrics are so poorly laid out it hurts. Who the fuck has a breakdown in the song that is essentially a phone call asking to pick something up from the grocery store? I can only assume Britney herself wrote this opus because there's no way anybody who pens lyrics for a living could have written it. I suppose I could say I'd give an A for effort, but ....F

I'm not really a fan of Van Halen. I mean, like I respect Eddie's talent even though I think he's gotta be the biggest tool in the industry. I think David Lee Roth has to be one of the craziest people in the public eye. Like he's actually bat shit crazy. And one of hte greatest examples of this is when he went back and sang all the lyrics to his solo album back in 86 completely in Spanish. The Buddyhead MP3 blog has a link to Yankee Rose in Spanish and I agree with those guys, you really have to listen to Diamond Dave babble his way through a song in a language you don't understand to fully appreciate how loony he really is. Here's the mp3.

I think just the fact he decided to do a call response with the guitar in the beginning (where the guitar sees a hot chick and tells Dave to look at her) is grounds for being institutionalized. Thank god he's not though cos now we get to watch him drag his carcass across America on the trainwreck that will be the Van Halen reunion. I wonder what the over/under in Vegas is on DLR incuring a jump-kick related injury this time out.

Took Sonar out for a spin today. The feature set has grown quite a bit since my days with that program. I haven't quite got it processing audio without clipping all the time and driving my CPU usage through the roof. I'm hoping/praying I can make that happen cos the UI is by far the most comfortable. I'm going to look through Cubase and might POSSIBLY even hang onto Live (although not likely).

In short, it's all babysteps.

Pat Robertson talking to his manager during a commercial break on Larry King. 'nuff said

Some minor CPU adjustments and I think I've got my rig suited to where I can like, make music without wanting to kill something. Just spent the past hour and a half committing riff ideas and sounds to record so they exist somewhere besides my brain (an unsafe storage medium if there ever was one). So I guess this is progress....sort of a bummer cos I know i had lots of stuff up there that prolly will never get out. Ah well...gotta start somewhere i guess.

Procured this weekend: New bike pump (to replace the crappy old one that was a casualty of the Spokeeasy bus), new work shoes, Simpsons 10th Season and some weird 4 DVD documentary on Chicago Mobsters I'm about to watch (the Al Capone DVD first natch). I came VERY close to also purchasing ipod #3, which would be a 30 gig video one for the car and its sole purpose would be providing me/Megan/passengers with entertainment beyond just comedians and music (of which I'm in no shortage of, but we could be watching/listening to Law and Order and how rad would that be?).

Will begin re-cycling in earnest to prepare for the ride @ the end of next month (100 mile Death Valley ride). Between now and I've also got Big Shoulders which I'm grossly underprepared for. I should be good to go between now and next Sat, but hey...you don't just go out and swim 5000 meters without giving the bod some advanced warning. So yeah...all open water swim from here till then.

Also, if you notice your comments don't show up right away, that's cos I have to manually approve 'em until I find a better way to authenticate people. Seems as though this site is a huge attraction to spambots and we ain't havin that shit. So in an effort to keep things deliciously spam free around here, manual publishing will have to work until I can tend to this matter. Sucks cos I don't really look at this site at all when @ the office for obvious reasons. That's when I like, contribute positively to other organisms lives.

Okay...things are somewhat "functioning" now and I've managed to tinker with some drum programs (as in shit I didn't loop over and over). Still think tones/samples suck but I'll worry about that later. The point is everything is up and running and I'm mindlessly consuming hours upon hours on this shite again. Like a fountain of youth!

On another note, I got out on the bike today and did a brisk ride down Lakeshore. I make it a point to only ride hard out of the mainstream of traffic. In Chicago, I've come to define this as being south of McCormick with various areas one must come to a crawl (the beaches basically). I go into a tuck in the most remote places, but even then one encounters people. This is when I yell "On your left!" (or right as the case may be). Well, I don't do that, everybody who's ever passed anybody on a trail in the history of mankind has done that. Nevertheless, there's always that one fucking idiot who thinks you're trying to be a prick or challenging their position on the trail (said person in this mindset is usually some fatass waddling down the middle equally occupying oncoming and concurrent traffic...and generally on rollerblades). Today I was moving along as isolated as one can be on the lakepath in Chicago when this bitch buried in her ipod (!) walking/oozing along failed to respond to my "On your left". So I yelled it again (louder). She turns around and her grasp of the fact that force = Mass x Acceleration was firm enough to realize that me on a roadbike near warp speeds was imminent danger. So she stepped off to a side, but only after yelling at me (cue head swirl):

"Oh Honey No You Didn't Just Snap at Me!".

Of couse I was moving to fast to respond and/or care. But I can't help but think this woman is under the impression I get my rocks off by sneaking up on people on the trail and then yelling at them to get out of their way. In fact, I encounter at least one person like this on a monthly basis.

So let this serve as my official position on calling out if I'm on somebody's right or left:

"When you hear me announce to you that I am on your right or left side on a trail in a fairly non-trafficked area...this is not an attempt to suppress women, challenge your authority, keep the black man down, hog the trail, cop an attitude, demonstrate my superiority or be an all around dickhead...rather this is my way of alerting you that I am sitting on top of a bike going 25 miles an hour and unless you move to the side and don't swerve into my path, it will ram you in your asshole...hard...please take the necessary precautions to avoid this fate"

Thank you

Sorry for the lack of updates this week. I had a twist in the road that derailed my plans. My grandfather died on Tuesday...he was 82 (they celebrated his 83rd birthday but that actually would have occured on Thursday). So I've been in Madison since Wednesday. It was certainly one of those things where it "was time" if ya know what I mean. The man was literally hanging on just to breathe. Suffice to say, the way he was the last few months certainly wasn't the way I'll remember him 20 years from now. So while its always sad to see somebody you care about go, sometimes you just gotta face the facts. He was a WWII vet so there was a military burial service. I've never seen that in person before. And if you haven't seen one, allz I can say is HOLY FUCKING SHIT. I was a paul bearer, as was my brothers and my oldest male cousins. From that you get a Naval Officer (Anapolis Grad...my bro) and an Army Officer (Westpoint grad) and both wore their dress blues (don't know if that's the proper term for the Army uniform). So to say this funeral had a tinge of military is a vast understatement. You wouldn't think a bunch of dudes from the VFW on a Friday morning could muster that much intensity and respect, but when its your grandpa and they fold that flag and give it to your grandma, it makes everybody else in your life who thinks they are "important" look like a fucking chump. You can't buy that kind of admiration.

I'll be back in Chicago tomorrow too meet up with everybody for some much needed boozing and debauchary. Sorry to anybody I missed over the past week or bailed on plans. Will resume to normal scheduled programming tomorrow