Landing for the Flight of the Conchords

HBO does Sunday night television better than anybody - probably better than all of the 'major' networks put together - yet some shows seem to fall through the cracks.

Flight of the Conchords is one of those shows.

If you haven't been watching Flight of the Conchords on HBO, then you've been completely missing out on a great comedy. Well, I have to admit that it's not for everyone, but if you're a fan of Tenacious D, then you might want to give it a try. It's a 'Life and Times of Rock-n-Rollers' spoof, starring a couple of pseudo-folk-comedy Kiwis in the title roles.

The season finale is next week, so you'd have to catch it pretty fast. Thankfully, a second season has been picked up. I was afraid that the show would befall the same fate as a couple of underrated - and underwatched, obviously - TV shows from HBO's past.

'I don't rap about bitches and hoes; I rap about witches and trolls' is a line from the song they did about the Lord of the Rings. It's not as conceptual as Tenacious D, yet it's not very commercial either.

You may recognize bass player Jermaine from some Outback commercials - even though the pair is from New Zealand, not Australia - but other than that they're fairly green. Jermaine is the 'not as good, mom' guy in the Outback commercials. Well, anyway, it's a cool show. It's set in New York, and people from New York are cool, right?

I was so impressed that I looked up the tab for the songs they do on the show. 'Albi the Racist Dragon' is a personal favorite of mine.

Check out the tab by clicking here.

Sunday Morning Coming Down

The Road to Hell is Paved With Good Intentions. Samuel Johnson sort of said that way back in the day, and it's one of my favorite quotes. A) Because my intention was to blog every day and B) because it pretty much kicks ass.

A lot has been going on in my life lately, but I have missed you guys quite a bit. It's good to get on here and vent about my life. And, right now, I can't say that my life completely sucks. It's actually going all right.

Maybe I'm just growing up a little bit, but the little things that used to drive me crazy really don't anymore. I can shrug it off for the most part, it being all of THE LITTLE THINGS, that great entity which has caused so many strokes and heart attacks.

Maybe, and here's just one of my crazy tangents, but just maybe we should study THE LITTLE THINGS and their effect on health. Because I'm almost convinced that it's not necessarily the big things that stress us out, but perhaps the LITTLE THINGS.

Okay, so I've made my point with ALL CAPS, so I'll move on. No, seriously, think about it in terms of a computer analogy. Most people allow a bunch of small files to slowly collect on their computer's hard drive, until the damned thing can't do anything but turn on and shut down. The computer runs all right for awhile, but eventually it goes kersplat.

Computer peeps may not agree with me, but it serves my point, so I'll continue. People spend too much time worrying about getting the oil changed, changing the address for the credit cards when they move, throwing out that container in the fridge that has become so overgrown with mold that you could barely remember what it was in the first place.

Without sounding - or trying to sound - too much like a motivational speaker (I hate those people - sorry if you are one), I'd like to suggest that you 'clear out your hard drive'. Write down every single thing that you can think of which needs to be done. And then do them.

All right. Now that that's out of my system, we can move on. Sorry. I'll be back to blog later on today (hopefully)!

Oxygen Kills

Hey everybody. The pickins on my blogs have been pretty slim lately, so I really should give you something to savor. That I don't really have anything going on is the problem. Nothing really crazy, anyway. I'm still editing the first book and beginning to outline the fourth book. Did I mention that it's going to be a detective novel set in a zombie-ravaged apocalypse? Anyway, who even knows IF I'll get to start it at the rate that I'm editing the first book.

Here's a little taste of the first book, just to let you know that I'm actually writing something and not just lying to your faces:

Today was a Stan Getner day. There were exceptions – a blonde girl in pink pajamas raving about the newest Jack Johnson record, jock broadcast majors taking bets on the first football game, stoners discussing how to roll a really tight joint, a sorority vixen complaining about the difficulty of studying when all she did was party – but for the most part, people discussed Stan Getner. It wasn’t everyday that the star baseball player – in his senior season, no less – got stabbed in a bar parking lot. Peterson University was a mid-sized school, but it was small enough that when something horrific happened, it lingered for several months, sometimes years.

And the student body in the Howard Livingston III dormitory was enthralled with the Stan Getner fiasco. Even though it hadn’t been formally reported in either of the local papers – the city or the student one – the news of Stan Getner’s near death experience was already the stuff of legend.


LP and I played tag inside last night, but it was too easy so had to stop. We went to Wal-Mart right after, and this was at 10 o'clock. Wal-Mart is a creepy place that late, and I'm glad I made it out alive. You do not want any part of that.

Other than that, I've only been working and nothing really else. I hope to have something cool to talk about soon, but I feel so bad for not blogging that I have to post SOMETHING.

Anyway, I've loved the comments. Thanks, everybody. I'll post something awesome later, I promise.

Snozberries Taste Like Jury Trial

I am currently sitting on the floor of the new place, drinking a Leinenkugel, catching up on last night's episode of Big Love.

LP and I are in the new place, and it's wonderful. Once we finally get to unpack the camera, I'll try to put some new pics online. The only think I don't like about our apartment is the wallpaper in the kitchen; it's hideous. I'm sort of afraid to take a picture of it, because I think it might ruin the camera. The large bulbous things on the wall look like snozberries or something.

Other than that, everything is going well. I'm still going to the gym, though because of the move and other obligations, I've not been going as often. Other obligations include: a new job and JURY DUTY.

No, I'm not obligated to sit around and watch a shitty Pauly Shore movie. Wait, no, I'm sorry. That's too simple a joke. Any Pauly Shore joke is too easy, so I apologize. Furthermore, I should not refer to a 'shitty' Pauly Shore movie. It's an oxymoron.

Honestly, though, I've got jury duty and I actually got picked to be on the jury and everything, so that's exciting. I can't talk about the details right now, obviously, but suffice it to say that Michael Vick is a lot taller in person.

Just kidding.

I'm back, is what I'm trying to say, and I hope I never go away.

The Consequences of Being Unprepared

Finally, I have moved into my new place. I still have no cable or internet, but at least I am no longer homeless. There's nothing I would like more than to sit around and blog for about three days straight to catch up and make all of you happy.

However, the cable company has been inundated with people moving out/moving in and can't make it to our place until Sunday morning, between 8-10 am. Then I can check in with you guys. I'm excited. But it's true that LP and I have no cable. We've been watching all of the seasons of Friends for the last few days.

I missed Barry Bond's 756 home run. Damnit. I missed Big Love on Monday. I just generally haven't been in on the world. It's weird. I could go into some sort of meta-existential blog about how strange it is to live in the world and not the technological world, but I have no time. I'm on borrowed time here. I'll get back with you all on Sunday. Love ya.