"YOU TWO! Imagine yourself in a romantic comedy where the climax takes place on a Metro Bus!"

Okay, okay.

After some serious harassment from some particulars, I decided to throw a post at your all way. Prepare for boredom.

Tonight was awesome.

I got off work, it's ten fifteen. What do I do? I head to the Old Pequliar, one of my all time favorite spots around Seattle. I have a Manny's and a shot of Jameson, score 1.34 on Word Dojo and take the bus outta Ballard. Yeah, we got out of Ballard, however the bus got derailed from the power line and the driver couldn't figure it out just west of Stone Way and 45th. What's a guy to do? Hoof it. And hoof it I did. Making it my own personal mission to let all the other people stuck waiting at each successive stop know that, A) that the bus wasn't making it for another twenty or more minutes, and b) Wallingford isn't that long, let's parade (which did NOT translate, they stood put) I continued. I spied two ginormous raccoons right outside of the Wallingford Center, got cheeseburgers & fries at Dicks (something that I've seriously been craving for weeks) and made it all the way back to University Way BEFORE either the bus or the following bus caught up.

I rule.

I also shared a bus with some hysterical UW students. The title of this post is the funniest thing that was said commenting on two lovebirds.

Are you caught up with Dexter yet?

LOOK. I'm sorry. I'm an asshole. I should've been here for you. I don't know what happened. Maybe it was work. Maybe it was someone. Who the fuck knows. I'm just writing to let you friends know that I'm still living, and yes, smiling.

- G

To talk to the stranger, flip to page 57

I don't recall how many of you might remember the hoodie debacle that happened two months ago(at the moment Im not checking my blog history, I'm just reaching) where I had my hoodie taken away and then it was returned after a friend, yes, inebriated, stuffed it away in his bag on account of thumb-to-nose-and-fingers-spread-eagle-ry. Now that the refresher course is over, it's time for today's entree.

Walking down the street, I break my nose away from the book and look up. My favorite bartender has just left the Tokyo Garden, next door to my second favorite bar in Seattle to walk back to his place of Ketel One and Word Dojo. Checking out a girl's ass. Then he sees me.
"WAGNAROCK. How the hell are you?"
"Fantastic, as one of my friends would say. How the hell are you?"
"Day just got ten times better."
"What's the business over at The Garden?"
"Trying to get some soy sauce, but they're busier than shit."
"Hold on to this, I'll go get you some soy sauce."
I hand him the book and walk next door. I make my way to the line and realize I'm the first one up. And then I realize. The guy that just waived me past.... he's wearing my hoodie. The one I'm wearing right now.
So once again the fact that I like having fun with people comes into play.
"Hey I've seen that before."
"Nice jacket."
Jacket? It's a hoodie. This is going to be a lot more fun than I anticipated.
Not a tall guy, but not a small guy. Guesstimation clocks in at 5'6", 160lbs, probably doesn't have a frightful posse. Dresses not too shabby.
"Yeah. Thanks. It's my hoodie."
"When did you get it?"
"About a year ago."
"Moksha?"
Nod.
"Can I get two soy sauces? How much is that gonna be?"
"Nothing. HEY. YOU TWO ARE WEARING THE SAME HOODIE!"
Really?
"It was my hoodie first. Thanks a lot," calling back as I'm out the door, "I don't want to see you again in my hoodie."

Probably lived the rest of his day in fear. I was just having fun.... but what if someone took my hoodie two months back and started rocking it around.... what if the timeline basically was the same? What if I ran into somone on the street hoodie-less facing my wear?

Wild stuff.

Now buying domain space

"What's up Gabe?"
"Mason, what's going on?"
"Hey I got something for you."
Last week I let one of my friends that works across from the Majestic Bay at the Subway borrow a TPB of one of the latest Ghost Rider mini-series. Frankly, I think if the whole thing just came out as a one-shot, it'd be a helluva lot more impressive. But the included covers are ridiculously cool.
"Yeah? Clay leave the comic?"
"Hold on it's in the back." He returns. "Here. ...and according to the note I'm supposed to call you Wagnarock."
"Fuckin' damn right you should. But did he spell it right?"
"R-O-K?"
One of the other sandwich artists looks up and says, "You don't know how to spell Ragnarok?"
"No, cause I don't know what it is."
The other guy, "You don't know what Ragnarok is? It's the end of the world!!" Jubilant in his jargon over his companion artist.
"I only know how it's spelled by the way my cousin spells Wagnarok," Mason complains.
What.
"You have a cousin that goes by Wagnarok?"
"Yeah. His name is (name deleted). Big tall Nordic guy."
Blank stare. Eyes like icicles ready to telekinetically kill. Relaxed.
"Tell your cousin he should stop going by that name. It's mine. I came up with it first."
Big fucking fat lie. Haskell said if I ever started up a one man guitar band, I should call it Wagnarok. I just added the C to make it more phonetically appealing.
And then adapted it. Then started throwing it up on high scores on Megatouch. Then I started rapping again. But I never picked up a guitar since.
Mason laughed. We talked about Ghost Rider and where the fuck Clay is and who he's trying to do or maybe he's just rocking out to Guitar Hero in his tighty whities. Who knew. I just ate my roast beef sandwich and read Suttree and went to work.

I think I've typed it enough to let you guys figure out the name of this post.

Two guys are sitting at table fifteen. A Mac & Jacks, and a Coca Cola. Maybe it was Diet. It wasn't yesterday. The motion for the check. The pick up for the tender. Swipe. Nothing. Swipe two. Nothing. Looks like another manual entry. Great, Gabe. Start preparing the blurb.
Excuse me, sir but here at our store we don't have any imprinters for a copy of your signature. So just give a quick scribble in the white space at the bottom of the merchant copy.
I'm walking towards the table. Three steps. I open up my yap.
Maybe I should call him by his last name.
Great idea Gabe.
"Excuse me Mr---"
You've got to be kidding me.
"THAT'S ME."
Yoink.
"Sir just sign on the white space down there. I entered it in manually."
So much for professionalism.
Did I read that last name right? It must've been. The way he reacted.... but maybe the pronunciation was off? No way.
His last name was Boner.
Boner.

To celebrate the release of The Dark Knight, I give you the gift of more boners.

Sorry I haven't been posting much. But I will give you THIS! And by that I mean, I'll pass one something Qwerty Z linked me but pass it off as mine.


Homeless 007 - Watch more free videos

manage this

So there's this song thats getting plays on digital music services, hey possibly KEXP, but I haven't been listening to the radio that much as of late.

At first in a din of a busy restaurant I thought the song was obnoxious. Then I heard it on full blast when I was mopping the floor. Seriously, I was dancing with some Pine Sol. I finally found out who it was, and I want to share the song with you people. I just like the song for its musings of free will, saying SFW to the world and ignoring the bullshit. The band is MGMT (I'm guessing they like managers) and they're from Brooklyn. The official video on Youtube has no embedding on request of the author, but here's a live performance.



I hope you guys like it as much as I do. The official video makes me want drugs. You guys are welcome. Indie rock points to you.

Jetlagged

I totally had Tic Tac Toast this morning. Thanks, God.

Qwerty Z linked me up to a little summation why The Super Mario Brothers flick of our childhood is under appreciated. Sadly, I can't back that up until I get my motherfucking Sonic The Hedgehog movie. And since someone will never be able to convince a echidna to be dyed red and wear ridiculous gloves, I can't support Mario Mario or John Leguizamo Mario. Nor could they ever live up to the childhood memories of Urkel voicing Sonic. Just won't happen.

But for some good news, Antoine returned home. Albeit smelling like car oil and hungrier than hell, he's OK. Most likely a tad bit more feral and less of a wussy than he probably was. But it's good to know that he can return to being a wimp. But a lovable one.

I also finished Last Exit to Brooklyn and it's absolutely the freakiest book I've ever read, absolutely a fantastic read, but completely terrifying. I'm now reading The Cheese Monkeys by Chip Kidd.

Now for a little useless distraction.

Have a great time you fungis. Or fungals.

Whatever.

the end of the Times?

Hey, so first things first.... today the 18th I woke up disappointed.

Today was supposed to mark the release of Zombie Strippers here in Seattle, but instead we get the NW premiere next week. I thought Seattle was supposed to be one of the top ten movie capitols of the world? How the hell can the Rainy City dog me on Jenna Jameson, Tito Ortiz, and goddamned Freddy Krueger? While the rest of the country revels in its nipple-rotting awesomeness? That's wrong and dishonest. Thanks Varsity Theater, I knew you guys could be jackasses but seriously. Dumping zombie porn for what? War documentaries? Haven't we had enough of those already?

Fuck.

By the way, The New York Times totally loved it, sort of.

Obamanation

I enjoyed this. Maybe you will too.

thunder, cat

So yesterday I was just going to write a blog about how boring my day was going to amount to be (turns out it wasn't) and then I hear a very loud CRACK, the entire house shook and then the power just clicked off.

Lightning fucking struck about two hundred feet away from my house. Yeah Seattle you heard the thunder, but you weren't this close to it. I thought the Cloverfield monster had hit Wedgwood. Like it was that kind of panic, for about five seconds.

That's what happened yesterday, and apparently I sabotaged a relationship. I'm pretty nifty, world. Take a chance on me.

Hip Hop Honorables

I was at Earl's a few days ago ( I still can't believe I didn't post this on the day of, but nevertheless ) minding my own business when JFuckingK AKA Ninjaface AKA Fiddle Back Recluse AKA Count Magnus stepped up next to me. I asked usual questions and he came up with the usual answers( "I don't know" ). Lameness. So in that honor I'm gonna put a little music video up in wait for the "Missing" official video.



Hey who wants to go see Atmosphere at the Showbox Sodo with me on the thirteenth of May?

Bookworming

Nothing really happened today except I'm totally convinced my new job still kicks ass.

Oh, and I'm about to get my official "Wagnarock" tee shirt, with pics to come as soon as I get my new digital camera. Cause I need a new one. And a new physique. One thing at a time.

So I finished Barker's new book and sadly the ending was rather lackluster. You can't really expect too much out of a two hundred and fifty page novel, unless it is actually called a novella. I saw the ending coming a fifty pages to the end but then again, sometimes authors get a slump. Now I'm reading "Last Exit to Brooklyn" by Hubert Selby Jr. Apparently its a really awesome book. I'll get back to y'all about it when I get to the awesomeness.

Later lovers.

OK, I'm officially scared. My third favorite cat(of all time) has gone missing. His name is Antoine Jupiter and he can be found around Capitol Hill in the Seattle area. He is extremely friendly and he could use your help if you find him. If you are the fortunate bastard that finds my buddy, please, email my sister at annie@thestranger.com and let her know about his whereabouts.

If you find my friend, you will be righteously compensated beyond your liver-ous dreams. I'm serious. I look forward to kitty-sitting my buddy whenever I can.

Any help is appreciated.

Amalgarock

I wish I saw this earlier....



BTW, I totally got to use the term "you just got wagnafucked" today.

Sanitizing required

Thanks Bloody-D;




I can't even explain how much excitement is coursing through my aorta about this movie. Hits the Varsity, next Friday. Be there.