Ear to the Grindstone

• That's a little picture I drew of the Rai Chile. I've been drawing this kind of crap for the past couple of weeks now. Here's a whole strip from a few days ago. I like drawing li'l guys like this because you can make 'em be anything, from videogame ragers to fancy waiters.

• You know how drugs are illegal? It would be weird if drug dealers were like "I guess we have to give drugs away now, because they're illegal," right? Well, that's kind of what happened with mixtape DJ's recently. Por ejemple, you can download tons of Clinton Sparks mixtapes for free now. If you live in Nebraska, you're stoked, because before now you didn't even know about that Pharoahe Monch "Awakening" joint.

• If you live in Hiebradond, though, you need not feel dejected. Because Your Boy has gone through the trouble of sifting through a veritable shit-ton of mp3's to find the original, and - dare I say it - better version of "The Forest." (For you, dog.)

• From the "Best Interbutt Shit Evar" File: Garfield Randomizer.

• And finally, a perfect illustration of my current mood. This is me grinding on school crap till the Challenging Challenge.

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We Built A Palace That No Longer Exists

• First, yes. I know what you're thinking: nothing. Or probably nothing, seeing as how you have probably given up on CFY,K altogether, as you have almost certainly long assumed that I have given up on CFY,K altogether. So. What we have here, by posting this post alone, is evidence to the contrary.

• In my defense, let me say this: For a while there I had company. Our own Anvil Rabbitt came down from Hiebradond to kick it for a little while, and to play a show in my town alongside New Friend of Sarchicha, stand-up comedian, and multi-instrumentalist Aubrey Tennant. It was rad. Between marathon pinball sessions (Shamanz is better than me, Aubrey is king), intake of gourmet foods, intensified chillaxing, and the - seriously - five or six papers I had to write while these cats pirateshipped my livingroom, no blogging was taking place.

















• Some notes on the show: Anvil got bumped from the night he was supposed to play at the Village Tavern in favor, I guess, of local hero CaryAnn Hearst. (We went. She still rocks. Sundays @ Fluids nostalgia abounded.) I think they should have let him open up or something anyway, because they moved him to the next night, which was a Friday, during which time Young Shamanzo was relegated to playing for a group of people who were all waiting for some kind of heavy metal jam band - if such a thing could ever exist - to start playing. (Read: tough crowd.) Anvil Rabbitt sounded good. New songs were worked out. Slightly older material sounded soaring and anthemic. The crowd, all the while, remained largely indifferent. (They were, after all, there to see a heavy metal jam band.) You know how you read interviews with established bands and they always say, like, 'Man, I remember playing in bars with ten people,' and all those early-road experiences? It seemed like one of those.

• And now for some smaller news: I found this kind of amazing YouTube video of a scene from Pulp Fiction animated in Typography form. (What? Just click it, dude.) I like this especially, because Brett totally sucks in this scene.

• Today I drew a couple of little comic strips in lieu of taking notes in Advanced Fiction Workshop. (It's dumb. You love.)

• And, finally, from the "There's No Decent Explanation As To Why No One Has Informed Me Before" File: Hunter S. Thompson interviews Keef.

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• Why, you ask, am I updating my damn blog on a Friday night? Well, I'll tell you: it's not like I wasn't going to be home anyway. More than that, though, my car won't start. So I can't really go anywhere. That shit's been going on for a couple of days now. (Trade-in consideration?) And then today my phone fell in the toilet. You gotta love it. Eff VH1. Your boy's having the best week ever.

• Old Nebraska called the other day to tell me that he was feeling the three early picks for Song of the Year. (Scroll down.) Now his favorite rapper has remixed that one joint. (It takes Pharoahe a minute to catch the beat, but it's hot.) I need to get Nebraska to get really into, like, the idea of me having a bunch of stuff that works.

• I'm trying to get that dot-color, old comic book effect to happen. How did they do that? You got a tutorial for that, Higginblatt?

• I don't know what's going on with Tadanori Yokoo's "Kiss Kiss Kiss," but I think it looks good. Also heavily admired right now: that thing that Chris Ware did for the TV Show version of This American Life.

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A Total Of Ten Tornadoes

• I believe I have now, after a two-day show last weekend, and thanks to my man Jush, seen Drive-By Truckers live in concert as many times as I have seen any other band in concert. This is interesting, at least to me, because I'm not really that big of a fan of them. I mean, they're good and all. I like the song with the Tornadoes. I like the one about floating. I really like the story about the guy's mom. Anyway, it was a damn fine time. (I will say that the sound in the venue is always a little treble-heavy, unless it's a packed show, as it was Saturday. And when that happens you can't concentrate because some old windbag is constantly trying to tell you about some drug he smoked thirty years ago. (Memo to the dude in the red hat: keep it.) Either that or you're all distracted by the amazing hair patterns on the head of a man who clearly does not know how to operate a clipper.) Highlight: We carried 17 large pizzas down the main drag when the bars let out and emerged unscathed. (We ordered that many pizzas because that's how many times the Larry Bird Story got told.)

• Bonus: "18 Wheels of Love," live in Toronto.

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