Itunes write up

I got this idea from someone else’s post but whenever I tried to reblog it it kept linking back to theirs so I’m just making another post.

How Many Songs: 1180

Sort By Song Title
First Song: About As Helpful As You Can Be Without Being Any Help At All- Dan Mangan

Last Song: 2000 Light Years From Home- The Rolling Stones

Sort By Time

Shortest Song: Stranded- Red Hot Chili Peppers
Longest Song: Joey- Bob Dylan

Sort By Artist
First Artist: AC/DC
Last Artist: The Yardbirds

Sort By Album
First Album: Accelerate- REM

Last Album: Voodoo Child: The Jimi Hendrix Collection- Jimi Hendrix

Death: 6
Life: 31

Love: 53
Hate: 1
You: 123
Sex: 1


KID KOALA: Moon River

Super Moon this weekend, guys.

I spoke with Courtney Barnett and gosh, if I was lukewarm on her before… sigh. On her frank songwriting and deliver:

“I just try to do what comes naturally,” Barnett says. “I let the words roll out of my mouth, and I play whatever matches that on guitar. The minute I start thinking about it, it becomes contrived.”

Peep the whole story o'er at Creative Loafing. Maybe I’ll see you at her show next week at The Loft?

02.20.15 // pore strip people

Earlier this week, I volunteered to help my manfriend clean his rather unfortunate kitchen. While balls-deep in Butthole Surfers, cheap malbec, and on my second steel wool, he innocently asked, “Is this…OK with you?” I think, since cleaning is traditionally not the most party time task we get to experience in life, he thought surely I was cursing him under my breath. But…guys, I’m kind of a pervert.

Caroline accidentally named it about a month ago when we were kicking it with bourbon and Kevin on my couch. I’m not sure how it came up, but I was trying to recall an OxiClean commercial—you know, those ones from the ‘90s when that bearded dude crouches next to a sickly-looking light brown bathtub and is all,“YO WATCH THIS,” and when you do, you see him swipe a perfect white scar, cutting through the scuzz. “HOLY FUCK,” 8-year-old me thought. Caroline nodded knowingly as I detailed all of this. “Oh yeah,” she said. “Biore pore strip people. I’m one of those, too." 


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STEVE GUNN: Wildwood

I went to a WASP-y high school and attending youth group was a fairly popular, non-geeky Thing To Do — especially at Killearn Methodist or Wildwood Presbyterian. 

I grew up Catholic, my family frequenting early Sunday mass within the stained glass Blessed Sacrament structure. But I tried out the protestant youth group with their PowerPoint presentations and acoustic guitar. It was very different from the rigid, pious practice that had become a beloved habit — Wildwood and Killearn’s lighting felt too bright and I couldn’t get excited about peanut butter-eating contests.

I was slipping away from Christianity in my early-/mid-teens but I was still trying to find some sort of footing in any of the three churches. I was trying to feel something, to believe.

It didn’t stick, but you can never fault someone for trying to believe in something — religion, love, magic. It’s worth trying.


JORGE BEN: Força Bruta

I’ve been jamming pretty hard on warm-sounding, easy shit lately (combined, obvs, with way too much Dirty South trap shit). Try this Brazilian jazz album on for size. Add a kitten sleeping in your lap for an optimum listening experience.

Also lately: for the first time I can really pinpoint in my adult life, I'm really enjoying time alone. Dropping the needle on a solid listen, opening a window and sipping bourbon while attacking a baking project. Or streaming an album for work while laying belly down over some comics. 

I miss my friends up north something fierce. I’m thrilled to have retained and made some amazing friends down here, too, but that count is significantly lower. I don’t actually mind it. It’s opened up a lot of time for myself and things I want to do and relaxation in general.

Remember, guys: Leisure isn’t a sin. Go find a porch and sit on it today. At least for a little while.



Live at Union Pool, LOL.