Who amongst us can resist the Siren’s song of fireworks sales? Indeed, when the opportunity arrises to spend several hours a day reading and doing crossword puzzles under the cool shade of a yellow shipping container knocks, only the foolhardy would fail to answer, deapite putting on hold a life of, well, reading and doing crossword puzzles on the back porch. Add in the factors of payment for services rendered as well as far superior Taco Bell proximity, and one can see that I had little choice but to return.
Of course, it wasn’t all just Will Shortz and Mark Twain I would be dealing with, but also the general public. I hate the public. I abhor dealing with the elites for their elitism, and the commoners for their commonness. When working retail, I am interested in speaking with the following patrons: A) foxy girls and B) my friends. As I don’t have any friends in Baltimore, and as the first presentable to fairly-hot girl stopped by my stand on Day 10, this meant I pretty much didn’t like any customers - but that’s to be expected.
I had one customer who was a KU grad, and that even worked at the Sprint call center in Lawrence before I did. He seemed like an alright dude, says he moved to Baltimore a couple years ago (like me, because his mom moved there from Kansas and he was crashing there) so we chatted a little. He said he really didn’t know anyone in Balto either. Of course, as hetero dudes, it’s completely taboo to go meet up for beers or something, because you can’t ask for a dude’s number in a chance meeting unless you are overseas - this is simply not done.
On Day 8 or so, a Jetta rolled up. Jettas used to be considered the standard issue hot-girl car, so I watched with anticipation as the door opened - of course, only to have a fat chick lumber out of it. I suppose attractive girls don’t buy fireworks, at least not in June. Fireworks, however, do attract guys with no teeth that wear jean shorts by the bucketful.
Some guy drove by in a delivery truck - music turned way up. His music? The National Anthem. I think it was the Whitney Houston version from Superbowl XXV. People are ridiculous. And no, this wasn’t on the 4th of July, but some time in June.
One crossword puzzle clue - Strikeout King Ryan. Going with Don Theory, I immediately started writing “Howard” without counting the boxes. It didn’t fit. They meant Nolan, of course.
On Day 12 or so, a trashy mom came by. Maybe 26 (though if she looked that, she was probably 22) with an awful tattoo on her calf, and swearing at her kids like crazy. Yet, at this point, she was easily amongst the top three most attractive women that had shopped at my stand. I was briefly into her, and thought about closing down the stand to take her to lunch at Denny’s, which was conveniently next door to my stand.
Speaking of Denny’s... It was my bathroom for three weeks. In the shitter there, there’s a baby changing station called the “Sturdy Station,” and somebody had scratched away the S in Sturdy - brilliant. Once, when going into Denny’s, the PA there was playing the most apropos Denny’s song possible - “Hip to be Square.”
A couple of young girls, maybe 19, stopped by my stand asking if I was hiring. I wasn’t, and they seemed the type that if I were, nothing good can come of it. Then they asked if I had any smokes. I said no. An hour later, on a smoke break, they walked by again. “You lied!” Hey, nobody has been a more liberal bummee of smokes over the years than me, just ask Wiley. But with the prices these days - no fucking way,
I eventually came across “The Comedian.” I hate this asshole. Comes up, hey man, do you have any M-80s? I answer with a cold stare and a no, as I always do, and then he revels that he’s just kidding, and then in “jest” asks for several more illegal products. Listen, all you would-be Dane Cooks - your jokes aren’t funny if they consist of asking somebody the same stupid questions that said person gets in seriousness all day from idiots. After dealing with tons of idiot customers, asking me for bottle rockets - in seriousness or in jest - just makes me want to shoot you in the face.
This gangsta dude was on the phone while shopping. To the person on the other end, he said “How much bread you spendin?” I was amazed that gangsta types are using Archie Comics slang.
I had a dead ringer for Derek Morris (Zack’s dad) show up - no suit jacket, suspenders, slicked hair, mid 40s - but a bluetooth instead of a Zack Morris phone.
More to come soon, including some usual suspects from my posts - scantily clad girls and random Koreans, plus pics
Friday, July 10, 2009
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Work work work
I'm back slingin' fireworks. Good times. I'm sure I'll write about my exciting new adventures spending 11 plus hours a day in a a shipping container in a strip mall parking lot soon, but for the sake of intellectual honesty (and lack of time) I'll repost the thing I wrote about my 2006 gig from my old Myspace blog, in case you haven't read it.
Fireworks
I recently had the rare opportunity to spend 233 hours within 25 days inside of a large yellow container, selling fireworks. In a Big K parking lot. On the outskirts of Baltimore.
I know, a million questions abound. The most common I ran into: do you sell firecrackers, bottle rockets, roman candles, mortars, m-80s, stuff that goes in the air, stuff that goes boom, cherry bombs, quarter-sticks, and C4. The answer to all: no. Maryland law doesn’t allow it. Most likely follow-up question received: Do you sell (name any aforementioned item again, generally a derivative of the first question, only worse, i.e. “do you sell firecrackers? No. “Then do you guys got M-80s? Still no.)
Of course, you may ask, what the hell am I, a college graduate that made good money in 2005 and went to Europe earlier this year doing selling fireworks? And what’s with my hair these days? Well, fireworks is a better gig than you think, and is likely far better than I will make it out to be here, plus, you just don’t get any interesting stories by being low-rung middle class and slinging phones.
On my first day selling fireworks, I believed I had, in fact, made a mistake. It was June 14, long before any sort of rush to buy began, and also a 12 hour day. I woke up at 7:30 a.m. to beat traffic and pack a lunch (which is how one eats in a fireworks stand that one cannot leave) and I was hung-over and a half. I had no recourse but to get soused the night before, in order to pass out early and shatter my lovely unemployed sleeping schedule that involved waking up at 1 p.m.
I had to drive to a distant suburb for “training,” which took 20 minutes and then head to my own stand. At the Big K. For whatever reason, the first day was chock full of crazy motherfuckers. For those of you who have worked at bars, coffee shops, convenience stores, and the like, you are well familiar with the nutcase that comes into your establishment and starts talking to you. No interest in your actual place of business, but clearly with nothing at all to do and no place to be. Well, in each of these establishments, you have the luxury of kicking out said people after a while, especially if they aren’t buying anything. At a fireworks stand, I’m already on a parking lot, so there’s no “out” to kick anybody.
I spoke with my first redneck arms-dealer type early on. “You guys got any M-80’s?”
“No. I wish. They aren’t legal in Maryland though.”
“Oh. Okay. Do you have any quarter-sticks, then?”
“Ah, no man, I’m pretty sure that’s not legal anywhere.”
“Oh, sure they are, I bought them in Florida.”
The one compliment I will ever give Florida is the following: backwoods though it is, even Florida doesn’t see quarter sticks.
Later that day, I met Mr. Quarter Stick’s cultural opposite. Two kids get out of a black Mercedes SUV with New York tags.
“Hey man, you smoke?
“I’m running kinda low,” I say, expecting a cig bum.
“No, not cigarettes. You need anything? I got weed, coke, whatever you want.”
“Well, I’m actually broke right now.”
“Oh, cool man. I check you out later.”
Ah, the friendly local neighborhood drug dealer.
Later, I met a retarded Asian kid who wanted to know my name an where I’m from and how old I am and how many miles were on my car and my favorite brand of gum, really anything he could think of, none of it fireworks-related.
No shortage of people asked if my fireworks were legal. “no,” I thought, “the cops will never find me in a large, stationary, canary yellow container with a giant eagle sign with 111 stars (I counted them the first day) on it.”
As the day wound down and I thought I had gotten through the heart of the crazy, Wild Bill (how he introduced himself) came along. Wild Bill also wanted to know where I was from, what brought me here, what my opinion on this and that are. I honestly don’t ask my doctor (like I have one) for this much background. I had no clue how much people would want to know about the guy selling fireworks. Wild Bill hung around for close to half an hour. “I can read people.” he said. He didn’t buy anything, just talked crazy. He said to watch out, this part of town can be rough. He finally left. I grabbed my box cutter, and kept it in my pocket for pretty much the next 24 days.
The second day, and subsequent days, were far better. I started an hour later, I wasn’t hung-over, I brought some books and a chair, better times all around. The comedy highlight of the first week involved me sitting on my chair near the door, reading, and a square, yuppie, beamer guy in his 50s (can we call them yuppies anymore? Yuppie is young urban professional. I propose we change the tag for these former watchers of thirtysomething to ospies: old suburban professionals) drove up next to my door, rolled down his window, and said, “do you have any em-eighties?” It might be a you had to be there thing, but he said M-80 like he was spelling it out, if that makes sense.
Others would drive by and yell “Hey, you got any Roman Candles?”
“No, nothing that goes in the air.”
“Oh, okay. You have any rockets?”
One guy, who also stayed for 20 minutes and bought nothing, with his wife in the car the whole time, looked almost exactly like James Hetfield, post-haircut. Insisted on shaking my hand, and gives one of these “I’m going to break every bone in your hand” shakes. He ultimately left, upset that I did not carry any C-4. Which, I am pretty sure, is military grade.
Work was often very slow, sometimes no customers for hours. I managed to read five books (including Dante’s Inferno, finally,) a Maxim, 4 Sports Illustrateds, every daily Baltimore Sun, 3 Sunday Washington Posts, and also did many crosswords, Jumbles, and oh, the Sudoko. I became a Sudoko junkie, even bought a book of them because the puzzles in the paper got to be too easy. All this, plus at least 15 cigarette beaks a day. Thing is, I dug this. I don’t think too many people are as good at doing nothing than I am. I am the Ted Bundy of time. If you’ve seen my surveys, than you already know this.
I saw a truck drive by, with a sign for Bad Boy Bail Bonds painted on, along with a gangster looking guy as the logo. And yes, it was an Escalade. I also saw one guy drive by bumping, and I mean bumping, that “let the bodies hit the floor” song. I had no idea anybody was that into that song, especially now.
I thought about music a lot, of course. Had the pod there with me all the time. I’ve decided that 2006 is a surprisingly good music year, with many killer albums coming out this year, or late last year that I first heard this year. Offhand, I can name the new Chili Peppers, which I’ve been digging a lot, along with the new Pearl Jam, the new Tool, the new Mogwai, and the Danger Doom record, which is just sick. Perhaps my favorite; though it came out in 2005, is one I really hate to admit because I hated the band forever and it ended up on my pod because Daniel was burning it and I didn’t listen to it until it snuck out of the pod when I was all high in Austria in February – Plans. The Death Cab record. I really didn’t want to like it, but it has actually reached the status of record I can listen to twice in a row and never skip any song on it when it comes up in shuffle. Basically, I’m at the point where I might actually revisit their back catalog of songs that I once disliked.
Another scary thing on the music tip, and how fucking old I am: I had a staff on the Fourth of July, since it actually was busy, including a 16 year old kid. The kid was all over the Metalica and Guns N Roses on the pod, and I realized that Appetite For Destruction and …And Justice for All (no elegant way to write that, unless I put Justice first, which I should have) were records that I was into when they came out, and both came out before this kid was born. This was somehow much worse than when I met people born after Thriller, because, hell, I was five when Thriller came out.
Kids are amazingly fucking bratty these days, and parents amazingly weak. I don’t feel like going on about this anymore, but it’s bad.
Baltimore seems to be chock full of girls with really, really bad tattoos. Don’t get me wrong, I dig a tattooed punk rock chick as much as the next guy, that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about shit you just don’t see in Chicago/Lawrence/Seattle/LA/wherever the hell else I’ve lived. I’m talking about chicks with their names tattooed on their necks, almost beyond prison style.
I’ve saved one of my last spots here for perhaps my strangest customer of all. Middle aged guy, certainly an ospie, kids in tow, wearing a baseball cap with “Heaven University” hand-written on it. He bought a couple of things, and started complaining about BGE (Baltimore Gas and Electric. For non-Baltimore readers; which is everyone I know, BGE is planning to raise their rates, like, a lot, and it’s pretty much the top political story in Baltimore right now. I will not bore you with what I know about this, which isn’t that much anyway.) Anyway, so we chatted about BGE, and the robber barons, and the politicians, and the apparent detriments to the notion of the for-profit utility company, and he said that our only hope at this point was to pray that the legislators can block BGE’s power grab and put the robber barons in their place. I agreed, assuming that he meant pray in the figurative sense, but he then explained that he meant it quite literally, and had created a website (which I will not promote here) and started a grass-roots organization to pray for energy price relief. I thought, of course, that this is a pretty ridiculous idea, but what the hell, it’s interesting to talk to somebody who is apparently a religious fundamentalist but a fiscal liberal, as generally the party line would be; I support prayer in school and am pro life, therefore I also support tax cuts for big business.
He left, then returned to buy more sparklers, and I realized I had misjudged his apparent quasi-leftiness. He brought literature, one promoting his website, the other proclaiming (through a doctor affiliated with The Life Foundation or Trinity Productions, or something along both those lines) that the pill causes cancer. He then talked to me about how we, as men, need to be knights in shining armor, to protect our women, from doctors if necessary, because without women, we won’t have any future generations, because they have the kids. And, you know, population is on the decline in Spain and Italy, he mentioned.
I’d had enough of this ass clown. I was tired at nodding at his outlandish claims to make him go away. I pointed out that the United States has gained 50 million people in population in my lifetime alone. He said that this was mostly immigration. Then, what of India, I asked him. India has gained some 300 million in population in my lifetime.
“But they worship cows. They’re pagans. Do you want to worship a cow?”
I didn’t bother mentioning that India is hugely multi-cultural with large Muslim and Christian minorities, nor did I bother to mention that there’s a lot more to Hinduism than “worshipping cows.” I just said, “Who are you to approve of what somebody else believes?” Sadly, I don’t remember what else I said, because I only wrote down what he said, but I swear, it was really cool, and I totally won the argument.
A final note – for some reason, when you are working in a fireworks stand, people often think that you are involved in some sort of traveling circus economy. “Where did you come from?” “Where do you guys go next?” Shit like that. As if though I’m waiting for the flatbed truck to load up my container to head to, say, Ohio, where for some reason Labor Day is the big fireworks holiday. Dude, I just work here.
So that’s selling fireworks, I guess. Would I do it again next year, should such circumstances present themselves (being in Baltimore, no real job at the time, desire to make money quick, etc)? Fuck yeah.
Fireworks
I recently had the rare opportunity to spend 233 hours within 25 days inside of a large yellow container, selling fireworks. In a Big K parking lot. On the outskirts of Baltimore.
I know, a million questions abound. The most common I ran into: do you sell firecrackers, bottle rockets, roman candles, mortars, m-80s, stuff that goes in the air, stuff that goes boom, cherry bombs, quarter-sticks, and C4. The answer to all: no. Maryland law doesn’t allow it. Most likely follow-up question received: Do you sell (name any aforementioned item again, generally a derivative of the first question, only worse, i.e. “do you sell firecrackers? No. “Then do you guys got M-80s? Still no.)
Of course, you may ask, what the hell am I, a college graduate that made good money in 2005 and went to Europe earlier this year doing selling fireworks? And what’s with my hair these days? Well, fireworks is a better gig than you think, and is likely far better than I will make it out to be here, plus, you just don’t get any interesting stories by being low-rung middle class and slinging phones.
On my first day selling fireworks, I believed I had, in fact, made a mistake. It was June 14, long before any sort of rush to buy began, and also a 12 hour day. I woke up at 7:30 a.m. to beat traffic and pack a lunch (which is how one eats in a fireworks stand that one cannot leave) and I was hung-over and a half. I had no recourse but to get soused the night before, in order to pass out early and shatter my lovely unemployed sleeping schedule that involved waking up at 1 p.m.
I had to drive to a distant suburb for “training,” which took 20 minutes and then head to my own stand. At the Big K. For whatever reason, the first day was chock full of crazy motherfuckers. For those of you who have worked at bars, coffee shops, convenience stores, and the like, you are well familiar with the nutcase that comes into your establishment and starts talking to you. No interest in your actual place of business, but clearly with nothing at all to do and no place to be. Well, in each of these establishments, you have the luxury of kicking out said people after a while, especially if they aren’t buying anything. At a fireworks stand, I’m already on a parking lot, so there’s no “out” to kick anybody.
I spoke with my first redneck arms-dealer type early on. “You guys got any M-80’s?”
“No. I wish. They aren’t legal in Maryland though.”
“Oh. Okay. Do you have any quarter-sticks, then?”
“Ah, no man, I’m pretty sure that’s not legal anywhere.”
“Oh, sure they are, I bought them in Florida.”
The one compliment I will ever give Florida is the following: backwoods though it is, even Florida doesn’t see quarter sticks.
Later that day, I met Mr. Quarter Stick’s cultural opposite. Two kids get out of a black Mercedes SUV with New York tags.
“Hey man, you smoke?
“I’m running kinda low,” I say, expecting a cig bum.
“No, not cigarettes. You need anything? I got weed, coke, whatever you want.”
“Well, I’m actually broke right now.”
“Oh, cool man. I check you out later.”
Ah, the friendly local neighborhood drug dealer.
Later, I met a retarded Asian kid who wanted to know my name an where I’m from and how old I am and how many miles were on my car and my favorite brand of gum, really anything he could think of, none of it fireworks-related.
No shortage of people asked if my fireworks were legal. “no,” I thought, “the cops will never find me in a large, stationary, canary yellow container with a giant eagle sign with 111 stars (I counted them the first day) on it.”
As the day wound down and I thought I had gotten through the heart of the crazy, Wild Bill (how he introduced himself) came along. Wild Bill also wanted to know where I was from, what brought me here, what my opinion on this and that are. I honestly don’t ask my doctor (like I have one) for this much background. I had no clue how much people would want to know about the guy selling fireworks. Wild Bill hung around for close to half an hour. “I can read people.” he said. He didn’t buy anything, just talked crazy. He said to watch out, this part of town can be rough. He finally left. I grabbed my box cutter, and kept it in my pocket for pretty much the next 24 days.
The second day, and subsequent days, were far better. I started an hour later, I wasn’t hung-over, I brought some books and a chair, better times all around. The comedy highlight of the first week involved me sitting on my chair near the door, reading, and a square, yuppie, beamer guy in his 50s (can we call them yuppies anymore? Yuppie is young urban professional. I propose we change the tag for these former watchers of thirtysomething to ospies: old suburban professionals) drove up next to my door, rolled down his window, and said, “do you have any em-eighties?” It might be a you had to be there thing, but he said M-80 like he was spelling it out, if that makes sense.
Others would drive by and yell “Hey, you got any Roman Candles?”
“No, nothing that goes in the air.”
“Oh, okay. You have any rockets?”
One guy, who also stayed for 20 minutes and bought nothing, with his wife in the car the whole time, looked almost exactly like James Hetfield, post-haircut. Insisted on shaking my hand, and gives one of these “I’m going to break every bone in your hand” shakes. He ultimately left, upset that I did not carry any C-4. Which, I am pretty sure, is military grade.
Work was often very slow, sometimes no customers for hours. I managed to read five books (including Dante’s Inferno, finally,) a Maxim, 4 Sports Illustrateds, every daily Baltimore Sun, 3 Sunday Washington Posts, and also did many crosswords, Jumbles, and oh, the Sudoko. I became a Sudoko junkie, even bought a book of them because the puzzles in the paper got to be too easy. All this, plus at least 15 cigarette beaks a day. Thing is, I dug this. I don’t think too many people are as good at doing nothing than I am. I am the Ted Bundy of time. If you’ve seen my surveys, than you already know this.
I saw a truck drive by, with a sign for Bad Boy Bail Bonds painted on, along with a gangster looking guy as the logo. And yes, it was an Escalade. I also saw one guy drive by bumping, and I mean bumping, that “let the bodies hit the floor” song. I had no idea anybody was that into that song, especially now.
I thought about music a lot, of course. Had the pod there with me all the time. I’ve decided that 2006 is a surprisingly good music year, with many killer albums coming out this year, or late last year that I first heard this year. Offhand, I can name the new Chili Peppers, which I’ve been digging a lot, along with the new Pearl Jam, the new Tool, the new Mogwai, and the Danger Doom record, which is just sick. Perhaps my favorite; though it came out in 2005, is one I really hate to admit because I hated the band forever and it ended up on my pod because Daniel was burning it and I didn’t listen to it until it snuck out of the pod when I was all high in Austria in February – Plans. The Death Cab record. I really didn’t want to like it, but it has actually reached the status of record I can listen to twice in a row and never skip any song on it when it comes up in shuffle. Basically, I’m at the point where I might actually revisit their back catalog of songs that I once disliked.
Another scary thing on the music tip, and how fucking old I am: I had a staff on the Fourth of July, since it actually was busy, including a 16 year old kid. The kid was all over the Metalica and Guns N Roses on the pod, and I realized that Appetite For Destruction and …And Justice for All (no elegant way to write that, unless I put Justice first, which I should have) were records that I was into when they came out, and both came out before this kid was born. This was somehow much worse than when I met people born after Thriller, because, hell, I was five when Thriller came out.
Kids are amazingly fucking bratty these days, and parents amazingly weak. I don’t feel like going on about this anymore, but it’s bad.
Baltimore seems to be chock full of girls with really, really bad tattoos. Don’t get me wrong, I dig a tattooed punk rock chick as much as the next guy, that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about shit you just don’t see in Chicago/Lawrence/Seattle/LA/wherever the hell else I’ve lived. I’m talking about chicks with their names tattooed on their necks, almost beyond prison style.
I’ve saved one of my last spots here for perhaps my strangest customer of all. Middle aged guy, certainly an ospie, kids in tow, wearing a baseball cap with “Heaven University” hand-written on it. He bought a couple of things, and started complaining about BGE (Baltimore Gas and Electric. For non-Baltimore readers; which is everyone I know, BGE is planning to raise their rates, like, a lot, and it’s pretty much the top political story in Baltimore right now. I will not bore you with what I know about this, which isn’t that much anyway.) Anyway, so we chatted about BGE, and the robber barons, and the politicians, and the apparent detriments to the notion of the for-profit utility company, and he said that our only hope at this point was to pray that the legislators can block BGE’s power grab and put the robber barons in their place. I agreed, assuming that he meant pray in the figurative sense, but he then explained that he meant it quite literally, and had created a website (which I will not promote here) and started a grass-roots organization to pray for energy price relief. I thought, of course, that this is a pretty ridiculous idea, but what the hell, it’s interesting to talk to somebody who is apparently a religious fundamentalist but a fiscal liberal, as generally the party line would be; I support prayer in school and am pro life, therefore I also support tax cuts for big business.
He left, then returned to buy more sparklers, and I realized I had misjudged his apparent quasi-leftiness. He brought literature, one promoting his website, the other proclaiming (through a doctor affiliated with The Life Foundation or Trinity Productions, or something along both those lines) that the pill causes cancer. He then talked to me about how we, as men, need to be knights in shining armor, to protect our women, from doctors if necessary, because without women, we won’t have any future generations, because they have the kids. And, you know, population is on the decline in Spain and Italy, he mentioned.
I’d had enough of this ass clown. I was tired at nodding at his outlandish claims to make him go away. I pointed out that the United States has gained 50 million people in population in my lifetime alone. He said that this was mostly immigration. Then, what of India, I asked him. India has gained some 300 million in population in my lifetime.
“But they worship cows. They’re pagans. Do you want to worship a cow?”
I didn’t bother mentioning that India is hugely multi-cultural with large Muslim and Christian minorities, nor did I bother to mention that there’s a lot more to Hinduism than “worshipping cows.” I just said, “Who are you to approve of what somebody else believes?” Sadly, I don’t remember what else I said, because I only wrote down what he said, but I swear, it was really cool, and I totally won the argument.
A final note – for some reason, when you are working in a fireworks stand, people often think that you are involved in some sort of traveling circus economy. “Where did you come from?” “Where do you guys go next?” Shit like that. As if though I’m waiting for the flatbed truck to load up my container to head to, say, Ohio, where for some reason Labor Day is the big fireworks holiday. Dude, I just work here.
So that’s selling fireworks, I guess. Would I do it again next year, should such circumstances present themselves (being in Baltimore, no real job at the time, desire to make money quick, etc)? Fuck yeah.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
The Bell and other stuff
Maybe this is stuff that I would Twitter once I am unfortunately and inevitably roped into it:
I’m pretty excited that my current default order at the Bell costs exactly $6.66 after tax
My only complaint with the Bell - anytime I go light and order fewer tacos, they put maybe 1 gram of meat and three shreds of cheese on each, so I’m still hungry afterword. Anytime I go heavy and order an extra taco, they put 4 pounds worth of filling in each, so I’m stuffed afterword. This happens 100% of the time.
Remember that girl you met on summer vacation in high school or during freshman year of college? You knew you’d have to leave her when the vacation/semester ended, so you missed her before you even left her. That’s how I feel about the Bell right now.
I’m destined to beat Zelda: Twilight Princess with 59 of the 60 Poe Souls. I’ve spent 7 hours over the last couple days looking for number 60 (and totally cheated by using the internets as well) and it’s not going to happen.
My mom and stepdad were talking about a buddy of his that goes to every James Taylor show, follows him on tour and everything. I have no problem with James Taylor, but I can’t think of a sillier artist to follow - how different can one James Taylor show be from the next?
I’m on sports withdrawal. For the first time in years, I don’t go to espn.com and the KC Star sports page every day. Sometimes I even miss two or three days straight. I place the blame on the Royals’ swoon and an uninteresting NBA finals. Football can’t start soon enough.
I start work in 5 days. I was one of 35 hired out of 1,700 applicants. Three weeks of slinging fireworks. Should be awesome. I’ll consider it a total success if I can complete one Friday crossword without Google.
I’m pretty excited that my current default order at the Bell costs exactly $6.66 after tax
My only complaint with the Bell - anytime I go light and order fewer tacos, they put maybe 1 gram of meat and three shreds of cheese on each, so I’m still hungry afterword. Anytime I go heavy and order an extra taco, they put 4 pounds worth of filling in each, so I’m stuffed afterword. This happens 100% of the time.
Remember that girl you met on summer vacation in high school or during freshman year of college? You knew you’d have to leave her when the vacation/semester ended, so you missed her before you even left her. That’s how I feel about the Bell right now.
I’m destined to beat Zelda: Twilight Princess with 59 of the 60 Poe Souls. I’ve spent 7 hours over the last couple days looking for number 60 (and totally cheated by using the internets as well) and it’s not going to happen.
My mom and stepdad were talking about a buddy of his that goes to every James Taylor show, follows him on tour and everything. I have no problem with James Taylor, but I can’t think of a sillier artist to follow - how different can one James Taylor show be from the next?
I’m on sports withdrawal. For the first time in years, I don’t go to espn.com and the KC Star sports page every day. Sometimes I even miss two or three days straight. I place the blame on the Royals’ swoon and an uninteresting NBA finals. Football can’t start soon enough.
I start work in 5 days. I was one of 35 hired out of 1,700 applicants. Three weeks of slinging fireworks. Should be awesome. I’ll consider it a total success if I can complete one Friday crossword without Google.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
With Apologies to Stong...
Maybe this is just my own nuttiness again, but maybe not. Do you ever feel that certain writers, actors, musicians, artists, world leaders, or other types of glitteraty are your buddies? I mean, they aren’t of course, and may well have died long before you were born. Still, you have studied or consumed enough of this person’s work that you consider he or she a buddy of yours. I don’t think I’m alone in this. Pop culture has to revolve around this - and by pop culture, I mean anything from Tutankhamun to Tina Fey. I feel, and certainly other people must feel that I/we/they/whatever pronoun floats your boat have, for lack of better term, a “personal relationship” with certain pop culture figures, despite never actually meeting them.
Though this “buddy theory” has probably occurred to me before, I got to thinking about it while walking through the National Gallery in DC, specifically in the sense of artists that are “buddies of mine” despite the lack of introduction, due in no small part to most of these artists being dead for hundreds of years. DC has a Giotto - an old buddy of mine from my Florentine days. There are a few Botticellis around too, and a pair of minor Hans Memlings, buddies as well. DC also has America’s only Leonardo, and though I’ve seen several other Leos on the Continent, he can’t be a buddy of mine.
Much like in the silly notion of indie rock cred, Leonardo can’t be my friend because he’s too popular. Same for the rest of the Italian Ninja Turtles. While I dig them all, they are simply too “mainstream.” In this sense, I mean that too many people care about these works for one to have a personal relationship with these artists. Ensor and Delvaux and Ted Rousseau are my buddies, whereas Picasso, Dali, and Van Gogh belong to the people. Even Monet I’d count in the non-buddy category, despite that fact that he played a major roll in three different relationships, inspired a short story of mine, and was a catalyst in the creation of a half-baked art movement that I invented 10 years ago. Monet is simply too radio friendly.
Obviously, this theory can run to every facet of pop culture. People dig Apatow and Arrested Development because Jason Bateman and Michael Cera can be your buddies, Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise can’t. George Carlin is my buddy, Bill Cosby belongs to the masses.
You could even extend this theory to religion. I think this is a major failing of Protestantism, particularly fundamentalism. These are based on the aforementioned “personal relationship” involved with Jesus Christ. I mean, who’s more famous than Jesus? How can somebody have a personal relationship with him? This is something the Catholics got right - buddy theory easily corresponds with, say, John the Baptist or Catherine of Alexandria. The saints and the hierarchy humanize the whole thing, rather than making everyone just another anonymous Michelangelo fan.
Anyway, send some comments out way, let us know who your “buddies” are, or if you fall in the highly logical camp that I’m just full of shit.
Though this “buddy theory” has probably occurred to me before, I got to thinking about it while walking through the National Gallery in DC, specifically in the sense of artists that are “buddies of mine” despite the lack of introduction, due in no small part to most of these artists being dead for hundreds of years. DC has a Giotto - an old buddy of mine from my Florentine days. There are a few Botticellis around too, and a pair of minor Hans Memlings, buddies as well. DC also has America’s only Leonardo, and though I’ve seen several other Leos on the Continent, he can’t be a buddy of mine.
Much like in the silly notion of indie rock cred, Leonardo can’t be my friend because he’s too popular. Same for the rest of the Italian Ninja Turtles. While I dig them all, they are simply too “mainstream.” In this sense, I mean that too many people care about these works for one to have a personal relationship with these artists. Ensor and Delvaux and Ted Rousseau are my buddies, whereas Picasso, Dali, and Van Gogh belong to the people. Even Monet I’d count in the non-buddy category, despite that fact that he played a major roll in three different relationships, inspired a short story of mine, and was a catalyst in the creation of a half-baked art movement that I invented 10 years ago. Monet is simply too radio friendly.
Obviously, this theory can run to every facet of pop culture. People dig Apatow and Arrested Development because Jason Bateman and Michael Cera can be your buddies, Brad Pitt and Tom Cruise can’t. George Carlin is my buddy, Bill Cosby belongs to the masses.
You could even extend this theory to religion. I think this is a major failing of Protestantism, particularly fundamentalism. These are based on the aforementioned “personal relationship” involved with Jesus Christ. I mean, who’s more famous than Jesus? How can somebody have a personal relationship with him? This is something the Catholics got right - buddy theory easily corresponds with, say, John the Baptist or Catherine of Alexandria. The saints and the hierarchy humanize the whole thing, rather than making everyone just another anonymous Michelangelo fan.
Anyway, send some comments out way, let us know who your “buddies” are, or if you fall in the highly logical camp that I’m just full of shit.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Damn You, VH1
I haven’t written anything for this blog in forever, so I’ll fix that by hitting up the old standbys - cheap whiskey and a gimmick. Tonight’s gimmick - I’m watching VH1 count down the top 100 90s videos (starting from number 72). Go ahead, be jealous of my awesome rock-n-roll jet-set life. Sometimes, it results in watching hours and hours of marginal TV on a Saturday night - and I’m more excited to watch this than I should be.
72) “One week” Barenaked Nadies -- I’ve never been able to get over my initial rage at the false advertising implied by their name. Damn you , Canada (plus, I saw that Snow was listed somewhere earlier. Damn Canucks)
71) “Tennessee” - Arrested Development - Oh, I rocked the hell out of this in ’92. I’m also noticing that writing a blog about a snarky show might be tough. I’ll breeze through the next few-
70) “Virtual Insanity” - Jamariqi 69) “Freak on a Leash” Korn 68) “Gettin Jiggy Wit It” Will Smith 67) “Groove is in the Heart” Dee-Lite - this came out in 1990, and it was decidedly not Skid Row or Motley Crue, so I hated it. I still think the chick is weird looking to an uncomfortable degree.
66) “I’ll Be” Edwin McCain - I was way too rock to like this song when it came out - then it got intermeshed with The Creek - it’s on the pod now, of course. By the way, I still don’t consider 1998 to be that long ago, but when they show a lot of the artists, particularly of the one his wonder variety, they are shockingly fat and old and lame looking. Paula Cole could model Mom Jeans.
65) “The Humpty Dance,” Digital Underground - 1) I had no idea this was 90s, I thought it was late 80s, and 2) being that it is 90s, it’s way too low at 65. It should be top 20. Not really, if you look at ALL 90s songs, because in that case 10 of the 12 Okay Computer songs should be top 20, but looking at hit singles (as VH1 is), this song should be higher.
64) “Peaches” The Presidents of the United States of America 63) ”Mo Money Mo Problems,” Biggie (but really Puff Daddy). I fucking hate Puff Daddy. 62) “I Alone” Live - bah, go back to selling flowers at the airport 61) ”All I Wanna Do” Sheryl Crow - I always thought it sounds like she’s making it up as she went along . This song is horrible, and even Sheryl Crow admits it on this VH1 show.
60) “Poison” Bel Biv Devoe - Daniel’s right - Ronnie Devoe was an ugly motherfucker.
59) “Buddy Holly” Weezer - Full disclosure - I didn’t like it when it came out. Maybe because The GF at the time did - thus it couldn’t be cool. It’s the only thing I was wrong about.
Apparently, this show I’m watching is from 2007. Good times. So these former stars are probably even fatter and lamer now.
58)“Damn, I wish I was you Lover” Sophie B. Hawkins 57) “Can I get a..” Jay Z 56) “Momma Said Knock you Out” LL Cool J
55) “Criminal” Fiona Apple - Oh man did I like this video back in 97. True story - in the year 2000, I was listening to this CD with this girl in my apartment, and nothing happened. Then, the next disc in the changer came on - The Misfits, and we started voraciously making out. So Glen Danzig, sexier than Fiona Apple?
54) ”One of Us” Joan Osborne. I never trusted her nose ring. 53) “OPP” Naughty by Nature 52) “Fly” Sugar Ray - I still can’t listen to it. Have to change the channel for a minute. Fuck you, Mark McGrath. 51) “California Love” 2Pac (and Dre) 50) “Man in a Box” Alice in Chains - killer riff, but I hope this isn’t Alice in Chain’s only entry, cuz it’s not they’re best song.
49) “Who will Save Your Soul” Jewel. Yeah, like every kid in the 90s, I loved Jewel, (not her songs per se) fucked up teeth and all. She broke my heart and married some country dude. 48) “3 a.m.” Matchbox 20 - I hated this song so much that I still can’t listen too it. I actually change the channel again. 47) “Good Vibrations” Marky Mark
46) “Your Still the One” Shania Twain - Freshman year of college, she was the absolute apex of celebrities that my buddies and I used to try to find naked pictures of on the internet. Ah, pre-Google days, when we had no way of knowing what celebs had paparazzi nip slips, thus requiring countless wasted hours.
45) “I only want to be with you” Hootie and the Blowfish. 44) “Killing me Softly with His song” The Fugees - I loved this cover, it was one of my favorites off the record. Lauryn - so promising in 1994, so crazy now, so many kids. Hmm.
43)“Never gonna Get it” En Vogue 42) “Shine” Collective Soul 41) - “Two Princes” Spin Doctors 40) “I Wanna Sex You Up” Color Me Badd - Beavis and Butthead had the best best reaction to this - wait, a group with Snow, George Michael. Kenny G, and Vanilli - This sucks. I enjoy the “where are they now” aspect of this - all of them are fat and ugly, and the lead singer sells tires in Oklahoma. Awesome.
39) “Iris” Goo Goo Dolls - I never trusted these guys, always so quick to write movie themes, like a lesser Loggins. 38) “Genie in a Bottle” Christina Aguilera - her best song, I guess, but that isn’t saying much. It was at all the clubs in my Euro days, otherwise I’m sure I’d hate it. 37) “(Good Riddence) Time of Your Life” I can’t say anything bad. Shut up.
They keep interviewing Nelson and Hanson, as if a) people can tell the difference, and b) anybody cares what they have to say
36) “Gonna Make you Sweat” C and C Music Factory - I actually bought the CD (in 1991)- not for this but their lesser known single, “Things That Make you go Hmm..” largely because of my love of the Arsenio Hall show
35) “Wonderwall” I loathed Oasis at the time. I was incorrect. 34) “Semi-Charmed Life” Third Eye Blind. 33) - “Wannabe” Spice Girls - in the late 90s, I never changed the channel when their vids were on. 32) “No Diggity” Blackstreet - totally disposable, no business being this high
31) “Creep” Radiohead - there should be more Radiohead on this countdown. No Nirvana/Pearl Jam/Soundgarden/Foo Fighters yet - each should have several songs on this list. It’s becoming clear that each band gets one song, thus making Radiohead and Marky Mark equal artists in the eyes of VH1
30) “Tearin’ Up My Heart” - NSYNC 29) “Ice Ice Baby” 28) “Livin La Vida Loca” Ricky Martin - a lot of throwaway pop all the sudden. When I worked at Entertainment Tonight, we did a story on Ricky every single day in the summer of 99, this song was always coming from the editing booth - those editors hated Ricky with a passion
27)“Mr. Jones” Conting Crows - I still can’t believe how much ass this dreadlocked hippy fuck got. In this 2007 show, he still has the dreads. Give it up, yo.
26) “My Name is” Eminem 25) “Black Hole Sun” Soundgarden 24) “Jump Around” House of Pain 23) “What a Man” Salt N Peppa - Cree’s favorite song
22) “Loser” Beck - amongst my least favorite Beck songs, but of course this was his “icon” moment ---Wha??? Beck’s a Scientologist? What the fuck?
21) “My Heart Will Go On” Celine Dione - can’t do it, changing the channel. 20) “Mmmm Bop” Hansen - so Hansen are more important to the 90s than Soundgarden or Tupac?
19) “Sabatoge” Beastie Boys 18) “Enter Sandman” Metalica 17) “Say my Name” Destiny’s Child - Top 20? Just because Beyonce became famous in the oughts doesn’t make Destiny’s Child an important 90s band.
16) “U Can’t Touch This” MC Hammers 15) “Under the Bridge” Red Hot Chili Peppers 14) “Vision of Love” Mariah Carey 13) “Nothin but a G Thang” Dr. Dre ( and Snoop) 12) “You Oughta Know” - Alanis Morissette - huh huh, this song was about Dave Coulier. Canada rules.
11) “Jeremy” Pearl Jam - Blah, since I I know Pearl Jam won’t get another song on this countdown, and they have several better 90s songs. Plus, Pearl Jam should be higher than 11.
10) “Nothing Compares 2U” Sinead O’Connor - I loathed this song when it came out. Despised. And the video. Now - I still can’t separate how I felt about this song when I was 12 from reality. I’ll still go with - it sucks. This countdown has too much early 1990 stuff. The first half of 1990 was 6th grade for me, ie, grade school, ie, the 80s. Nothing Compares 2U came out January 8, 1990. In the top 10 by 8 days. Bah.
9) “Losing my Religion” REM 8)“Waterfalls” TLC - I didn’t like this song either. Yet, I loved the 90s. This VH1 thing is ruining the 90s for me. 7) “Baby One More Time” Britney Spears - #7?? 6) “Baby Got Back” Sir Mixalot
5) “Vogue” More 6th grade shit. These VH1 people should have consulted me. The 90s didn’t start until June of 1990, after grade school ended. That or when Point Break was released (in 1991). I was pretty into Madonna’s mesh shirt in this vid back in the day though. Boobies!
4 ) “I Will Always Love You” Whitney Houston - Change the channel! This may be my least favorite song ever.
3) “I Want it That Way” Backstreet Boys - Ah, so they did beat NSYNC. C’mon, this was a decent pop song. # 3 of the 90s though? No way
2) “One” U2 - I still love this song. They made three versions of this video. I once, inadvertantly, ended up watching all three versions in a row on MTV with this girl I was crazy into that nothing ever happened with. Not good times.
Lots of suspense as to who is # 1. I’m writing it in during the commercial
1) “Smells Like Teen Spirit” Nirvana. I was right. Kelly Rowland of Destiny’s Child just called it her all time favorite song on the show. Sure. VH1 showed Kurt Loder announcing Cobain was dead. That’s how I found out too.
No Everlong on the list at all. Bullshit. I hate you, VH1 (at least 2007 you)
72) “One week” Barenaked Nadies -- I’ve never been able to get over my initial rage at the false advertising implied by their name. Damn you , Canada (plus, I saw that Snow was listed somewhere earlier. Damn Canucks)
71) “Tennessee” - Arrested Development - Oh, I rocked the hell out of this in ’92. I’m also noticing that writing a blog about a snarky show might be tough. I’ll breeze through the next few-
70) “Virtual Insanity” - Jamariqi 69) “Freak on a Leash” Korn 68) “Gettin Jiggy Wit It” Will Smith 67) “Groove is in the Heart” Dee-Lite - this came out in 1990, and it was decidedly not Skid Row or Motley Crue, so I hated it. I still think the chick is weird looking to an uncomfortable degree.
66) “I’ll Be” Edwin McCain - I was way too rock to like this song when it came out - then it got intermeshed with The Creek - it’s on the pod now, of course. By the way, I still don’t consider 1998 to be that long ago, but when they show a lot of the artists, particularly of the one his wonder variety, they are shockingly fat and old and lame looking. Paula Cole could model Mom Jeans.
65) “The Humpty Dance,” Digital Underground - 1) I had no idea this was 90s, I thought it was late 80s, and 2) being that it is 90s, it’s way too low at 65. It should be top 20. Not really, if you look at ALL 90s songs, because in that case 10 of the 12 Okay Computer songs should be top 20, but looking at hit singles (as VH1 is), this song should be higher.
64) “Peaches” The Presidents of the United States of America 63) ”Mo Money Mo Problems,” Biggie (but really Puff Daddy). I fucking hate Puff Daddy. 62) “I Alone” Live - bah, go back to selling flowers at the airport 61) ”All I Wanna Do” Sheryl Crow - I always thought it sounds like she’s making it up as she went along . This song is horrible, and even Sheryl Crow admits it on this VH1 show.
60) “Poison” Bel Biv Devoe - Daniel’s right - Ronnie Devoe was an ugly motherfucker.
59) “Buddy Holly” Weezer - Full disclosure - I didn’t like it when it came out. Maybe because The GF at the time did - thus it couldn’t be cool. It’s the only thing I was wrong about.
Apparently, this show I’m watching is from 2007. Good times. So these former stars are probably even fatter and lamer now.
58)“Damn, I wish I was you Lover” Sophie B. Hawkins 57) “Can I get a..” Jay Z 56) “Momma Said Knock you Out” LL Cool J
55) “Criminal” Fiona Apple - Oh man did I like this video back in 97. True story - in the year 2000, I was listening to this CD with this girl in my apartment, and nothing happened. Then, the next disc in the changer came on - The Misfits, and we started voraciously making out. So Glen Danzig, sexier than Fiona Apple?
54) ”One of Us” Joan Osborne. I never trusted her nose ring. 53) “OPP” Naughty by Nature 52) “Fly” Sugar Ray - I still can’t listen to it. Have to change the channel for a minute. Fuck you, Mark McGrath. 51) “California Love” 2Pac (and Dre) 50) “Man in a Box” Alice in Chains - killer riff, but I hope this isn’t Alice in Chain’s only entry, cuz it’s not they’re best song.
49) “Who will Save Your Soul” Jewel. Yeah, like every kid in the 90s, I loved Jewel, (not her songs per se) fucked up teeth and all. She broke my heart and married some country dude. 48) “3 a.m.” Matchbox 20 - I hated this song so much that I still can’t listen too it. I actually change the channel again. 47) “Good Vibrations” Marky Mark
46) “Your Still the One” Shania Twain - Freshman year of college, she was the absolute apex of celebrities that my buddies and I used to try to find naked pictures of on the internet. Ah, pre-Google days, when we had no way of knowing what celebs had paparazzi nip slips, thus requiring countless wasted hours.
45) “I only want to be with you” Hootie and the Blowfish. 44) “Killing me Softly with His song” The Fugees - I loved this cover, it was one of my favorites off the record. Lauryn - so promising in 1994, so crazy now, so many kids. Hmm.
43)“Never gonna Get it” En Vogue 42) “Shine” Collective Soul 41) - “Two Princes” Spin Doctors 40) “I Wanna Sex You Up” Color Me Badd - Beavis and Butthead had the best best reaction to this - wait, a group with Snow, George Michael. Kenny G, and Vanilli - This sucks. I enjoy the “where are they now” aspect of this - all of them are fat and ugly, and the lead singer sells tires in Oklahoma. Awesome.
39) “Iris” Goo Goo Dolls - I never trusted these guys, always so quick to write movie themes, like a lesser Loggins. 38) “Genie in a Bottle” Christina Aguilera - her best song, I guess, but that isn’t saying much. It was at all the clubs in my Euro days, otherwise I’m sure I’d hate it. 37) “(Good Riddence) Time of Your Life” I can’t say anything bad. Shut up.
They keep interviewing Nelson and Hanson, as if a) people can tell the difference, and b) anybody cares what they have to say
36) “Gonna Make you Sweat” C and C Music Factory - I actually bought the CD (in 1991)- not for this but their lesser known single, “Things That Make you go Hmm..” largely because of my love of the Arsenio Hall show
35) “Wonderwall” I loathed Oasis at the time. I was incorrect. 34) “Semi-Charmed Life” Third Eye Blind. 33) - “Wannabe” Spice Girls - in the late 90s, I never changed the channel when their vids were on. 32) “No Diggity” Blackstreet - totally disposable, no business being this high
31) “Creep” Radiohead - there should be more Radiohead on this countdown. No Nirvana/Pearl Jam/Soundgarden/Foo Fighters yet - each should have several songs on this list. It’s becoming clear that each band gets one song, thus making Radiohead and Marky Mark equal artists in the eyes of VH1
30) “Tearin’ Up My Heart” - NSYNC 29) “Ice Ice Baby” 28) “Livin La Vida Loca” Ricky Martin - a lot of throwaway pop all the sudden. When I worked at Entertainment Tonight, we did a story on Ricky every single day in the summer of 99, this song was always coming from the editing booth - those editors hated Ricky with a passion
27)“Mr. Jones” Conting Crows - I still can’t believe how much ass this dreadlocked hippy fuck got. In this 2007 show, he still has the dreads. Give it up, yo.
26) “My Name is” Eminem 25) “Black Hole Sun” Soundgarden 24) “Jump Around” House of Pain 23) “What a Man” Salt N Peppa - Cree’s favorite song
22) “Loser” Beck - amongst my least favorite Beck songs, but of course this was his “icon” moment ---Wha??? Beck’s a Scientologist? What the fuck?
21) “My Heart Will Go On” Celine Dione - can’t do it, changing the channel. 20) “Mmmm Bop” Hansen - so Hansen are more important to the 90s than Soundgarden or Tupac?
19) “Sabatoge” Beastie Boys 18) “Enter Sandman” Metalica 17) “Say my Name” Destiny’s Child - Top 20? Just because Beyonce became famous in the oughts doesn’t make Destiny’s Child an important 90s band.
16) “U Can’t Touch This” MC Hammers 15) “Under the Bridge” Red Hot Chili Peppers 14) “Vision of Love” Mariah Carey 13) “Nothin but a G Thang” Dr. Dre ( and Snoop) 12) “You Oughta Know” - Alanis Morissette - huh huh, this song was about Dave Coulier. Canada rules.
11) “Jeremy” Pearl Jam - Blah, since I I know Pearl Jam won’t get another song on this countdown, and they have several better 90s songs. Plus, Pearl Jam should be higher than 11.
10) “Nothing Compares 2U” Sinead O’Connor - I loathed this song when it came out. Despised. And the video. Now - I still can’t separate how I felt about this song when I was 12 from reality. I’ll still go with - it sucks. This countdown has too much early 1990 stuff. The first half of 1990 was 6th grade for me, ie, grade school, ie, the 80s. Nothing Compares 2U came out January 8, 1990. In the top 10 by 8 days. Bah.
9) “Losing my Religion” REM 8)“Waterfalls” TLC - I didn’t like this song either. Yet, I loved the 90s. This VH1 thing is ruining the 90s for me. 7) “Baby One More Time” Britney Spears - #7?? 6) “Baby Got Back” Sir Mixalot
5) “Vogue” More 6th grade shit. These VH1 people should have consulted me. The 90s didn’t start until June of 1990, after grade school ended. That or when Point Break was released (in 1991). I was pretty into Madonna’s mesh shirt in this vid back in the day though. Boobies!
4 ) “I Will Always Love You” Whitney Houston - Change the channel! This may be my least favorite song ever.
3) “I Want it That Way” Backstreet Boys - Ah, so they did beat NSYNC. C’mon, this was a decent pop song. # 3 of the 90s though? No way
2) “One” U2 - I still love this song. They made three versions of this video. I once, inadvertantly, ended up watching all three versions in a row on MTV with this girl I was crazy into that nothing ever happened with. Not good times.
Lots of suspense as to who is # 1. I’m writing it in during the commercial
1) “Smells Like Teen Spirit” Nirvana. I was right. Kelly Rowland of Destiny’s Child just called it her all time favorite song on the show. Sure. VH1 showed Kurt Loder announcing Cobain was dead. That’s how I found out too.
No Everlong on the list at all. Bullshit. I hate you, VH1 (at least 2007 you)
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