Thursday, August 10, 2006
Watch For "Royal Flush" Puns
And don't use them yourself! Please!
So, enough about the Red Sox. I've never seen a good team play a horrible team, and somehow find a way to basically lose to them once and then lose to them two more times in a row in the identical way. What is happening here? This is some psychological experiment, right?
I'm totally not wasting any more time talking about this series. And I'm not wasting any of my weekend watching these Little Leaguers. They can call me back when they remember how to play baseball. If I were at Fenway tomorrow night, screw that national anthem plan, I'd put all my energy into booing the Red Sox as they take the field.
There. Is that what you want to hear, Red Sox? Should I say "I give up"? Will that make you try harder? How about "I don't give a crap?" How about, in an Al Pacino voice, "Don't waste my motherfuckin' time!"?
You know what I hate? And I've probably said some variation on this myself, but, when people say "At least I have my health." Well, I had my damn health anyway. It's the baseball me that's ailing. Dragging along with one leg and flies eating my flesh.
Done. No more baseball. Fun other stuff ahead, even though I'm sick. Sickened by shitty, sickening shit.
Okay, so four and a half years ago-ish, friend of ARSFIPT Brian's old band, The Pist, played a reunion two-show gig at New Haven's Tune-Inn. I videotaped one night, and always wanted to make a little movie out of a certain part of it. I had the vision, but I didn't have the technology. Now I do, so tonight, I made my little movie. It will be right here in a few minutes. Okay, those minutes are up. Here it is. Click the box. For more details, read below. Oh, and you don't need to like punk rock or anything to enjoy this. It should amuse you regardless.
The singer is Al. The dude with the long hair is Malcolm. The song is "Mutual." The other song is... you know. Brian's on drums, but you can't see him. After The Pist, Brian sang in our band The Pac-Men. Both bands ruled.
So, enough about the Red Sox. I've never seen a good team play a horrible team, and somehow find a way to basically lose to them once and then lose to them two more times in a row in the identical way. What is happening here? This is some psychological experiment, right?
I'm totally not wasting any more time talking about this series. And I'm not wasting any of my weekend watching these Little Leaguers. They can call me back when they remember how to play baseball. If I were at Fenway tomorrow night, screw that national anthem plan, I'd put all my energy into booing the Red Sox as they take the field.
There. Is that what you want to hear, Red Sox? Should I say "I give up"? Will that make you try harder? How about "I don't give a crap?" How about, in an Al Pacino voice, "Don't waste my motherfuckin' time!"?
You know what I hate? And I've probably said some variation on this myself, but, when people say "At least I have my health." Well, I had my damn health anyway. It's the baseball me that's ailing. Dragging along with one leg and flies eating my flesh.
Done. No more baseball. Fun other stuff ahead, even though I'm sick. Sickened by shitty, sickening shit.
Okay, so four and a half years ago-ish, friend of ARSFIPT Brian's old band, The Pist, played a reunion two-show gig at New Haven's Tune-Inn. I videotaped one night, and always wanted to make a little movie out of a certain part of it. I had the vision, but I didn't have the technology. Now I do, so tonight, I made my little movie. It will be right here in a few minutes. Okay, those minutes are up. Here it is. Click the box. For more details, read below. Oh, and you don't need to like punk rock or anything to enjoy this. It should amuse you regardless.
The singer is Al. The dude with the long hair is Malcolm. The song is "Mutual." The other song is... you know. Brian's on drums, but you can't see him. After The Pist, Brian sang in our band The Pac-Men. Both bands ruled.
Labels: movies
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I swear I saw the Pist at the Rat on Boyleston, opening up for Slapshot, like when I was 15 or 16...am I crazy to think that? My much older cousin used to bounce at the Rat, so we younger kids used to get in through the alley to see shows...that would have been 15 years ago...if you're friends with that band, then what do you need the Red Sox for anyway...
P.s. the worst ever word verification:
okynk...ok yankees? WTF?
P.s. the worst ever word verification:
okynk...ok yankees? WTF?
WC: Thanks! And I'm sure Pat would do the same sigh for the Rat, as he used to regale me with regalia about it when he was in college in NH and I was in the Rat-less midwest.
MatSo: Yeah, that was probably them. 15 yrs ago would make Brian 15 years old, and he started in the band when he was 15 (even though the rest of those dudes are few years older. I'm still jealous that Brian was touring the country with a "real" band before I even "discovered" punk rock, and at an age 10 years younger than I was when I first played in a band. Well, a band that wasn't me and Pat in the basement. Although that was cooler than most bands out there.).
So maybe Brian or Al can chime in and confirm they played in front of MattySox. Or maybe it was during the brief non-Brian era of the Pist that you saw them.
MatSo: Yeah, that was probably them. 15 yrs ago would make Brian 15 years old, and he started in the band when he was 15 (even though the rest of those dudes are few years older. I'm still jealous that Brian was touring the country with a "real" band before I even "discovered" punk rock, and at an age 10 years younger than I was when I first played in a band. Well, a band that wasn't me and Pat in the basement. Although that was cooler than most bands out there.).
So maybe Brian or Al can chime in and confirm they played in front of MattySox. Or maybe it was during the brief non-Brian era of the Pist that you saw them.
And on the baseball side of your post, you captured your emotions perfectly. We all share the same feelings in one way or another, and thanks. I've already heard that faint scraape.......scraaapppe......and that is, I'm sure, the bottom of the barrel.
I saw the Pist in Providence a few times. Like at the Living Room. The only song I remember is the one that goes "I hate music, I hate what it's become."
I always enjoyed their stuff.
I always enjoyed their stuff.
It's kind of weird, Mike and I are driving out to California, and I'm kind of glad that it will keep me from being able to watch them for over a week. It'll do me some good.
Sorry Peter, not MY feelings.
//If I were at Fenway tomorrow night, screw that national anthem plan, I'd put all my energy into booing the Red Sox as they take the field.//
I'll never understand that mindset. If you 'love' something or someone, why would you want to pile on the pain instead of actually SUPPORTING them through the rough spots?
//If I were at Fenway tomorrow night, screw that national anthem plan, I'd put all my energy into booing the Red Sox as they take the field.//
I'll never understand that mindset. If you 'love' something or someone, why would you want to pile on the pain instead of actually SUPPORTING them through the rough spots?
Because they've done nothing to deserve my support for a long time. I'd rather support the next random pigeon I see on the street. This team is killing me right now. Bee double oh.
You can be disappointed in someone and still love them. You still punish your kids even though you love them if they trample Royals sweep all over the brand new carpet when they know they're not supposed to.
You can be disappointed in someone and still love them. You still punish your kids even though you love them if they trample Royals sweep all over the brand new carpet when they know they're not supposed to.
Other JS: Glad you're down with The Pist!
T-Ro Price: That's funny because when the Seinfeld crew went to Cali, that detective guy was kind of Broseph-esque. I mean, Mike-esque. Sorry.
T-Ro Price: That's funny because when the Seinfeld crew went to Cali, that detective guy was kind of Broseph-esque. I mean, Mike-esque. Sorry.
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