saaaaaiiiiling, takes me away (and smashes me into bits): a story 'bout a crazy dream

first, dawson made me think of this.

now, i had this dream last week. this is how it all shook down (also a great 'mats record):

the wife and i are on vacation. i don't know where exactly, but there were rivers and mountains and beaches. kinda like the harpeth river if it were in the rockies, if they just happened to be in panama city (minus the skanks in airbrushed tshirts).

i had this scuba diving contraption. you know, the kind that you hang onto when you're scuba-ing that has a little motor that pulls you through the water? well, mine was special. not only would it pull you through the water, it would pull you through the air. like a rocket. so here i am, tear-assing around the harpeth mountain beach, doing all kinds of cool tricks: barrell rolls, flips, dive bombing shit like it's my job. i'm zooming through the trees and the beaches and skimming along the rivers like one of those fancy nature imax films. and then it happened: i forgot which way to hold the rocket scuba thing to go down and which way to go up (i know that makes me stupid, but it's a dream, so screw off.). so i'm wanting to go back down to the ground, but i'm pointing the thing the absolute wrong direction. so i just keep going higher and higher and higher until the ground looks like i'm in an airplane. i finally figure out what's wrong, but i'm more scared about going down than i am about being up there. but go down i must, so i start going down and then...i forget which little button is for "fast" and which one's for "slow." so here i am screaming toward the water, both literally and figuratively, unable to stop because i can't figure out the damn controller! all i could think to do was to make myself really, really straight and to think really skinny thoughts so i would not be smashed into bits when i hit the water. i guess i survived the touch down, because i woke up and had to go drink some orange juice (and take a leak) before i could fall asleep.

i think the meaning of that dream is that i'm crazy.

10 questions

it's friday. know what that means? other peoples ideas rip off time! this week's ripoff comes from the french show bouillon de culture, previously ripped off by my friend and yours, james lipton of inside the actor's studio. for your commenting pleasure, here are bernard pivot's ten questions: (my comments are below in italic)

01. What is your favorite word?
music.
02. What is your least favorite word?
hate. followed closely by apathy.
03. What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?
open mindedness
04. What turns you off?
close mindedness
05. What is your favorite curse word?
...so hard to pick just one. we'll go with horseshit.
06. What sound or noise do you love?
the sounds my dogs make when they sleep.
07. What sound or noise do you hate?
uncontrolled feedback.
08. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
teacher.
09. What profession would you not like to do?
sales. heh.
10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
"thanks for the effort. all the people you've been waiting to see are over there..."

anyone else wanna give it a go?

A Picture Share!

boredom from the inside out...

what's in a name?

you all know i am upside down over hockey. sure you do. i just told you. your nashville predators are on a 7 (SEVEN!!!) game winning streak to start the season, i'm not getting all of my ass handed to me in fantasy hockey, and the season tickets that the wife and i picked out two years ago are proving to be very, very good seats. the only thing that could make the first month of the season better is if the detroit red wings hadn't won a game yet (they've actually won 7 or 8 of them and look to be better than most expected).

you know what else is good about hockey? hockey player names. best names in sport, i tell you. not only are they fun to say, but they're versatile. check out the multpile uses for these player's names:

darcy hordichuck, lw, (your) nashville predators: "what the hordichuck are you talking about?" or "i don't feel very good. i think i'm gonna hordichuck." also true for keith tkachuk (st louis) and ilya kovalchuk (atlanta).

sergei gonchar, d, pittsburgh penguins: "did you see that? he got hit right in the gonchar!!" also true for the names of simon gamache (nashville) and joe sakic (colorado).

sergei krivokrasov,"kree-vo-krazz-ov", former nashville predator: "i'm freezing my krivokrasov!"

okay, so it's not a long list, but it's what i can think of right now. what other sports names, hockey or otherwise, can you have fun with?

help

i've got a show thursday. howevever, if you didn't know that i was playing, you wouldn't know i was playing since the 5 spot decided to not include me in any of their listings. sweet. and they booked 5 bands. supersweet.

i'm not making this up in some type of funny and thinly veiled promotion. i'm really asking for your help. if you're free tomorrow nite around 10p, please come to the 5spot to see me play. if you have a blog, please list my show for tomorrow nite. if you have friends, please tell them that you know a guy who has a show they should go to. if you have none of those things, i apologize, but you really need more help than i do.

i want to show the 5spot that i can get a crowd without their help or promotion.

it's $5 to get in (i think...i don't get any of the door). i promise you'll hear good music and have a good time. i promise NOT to keep you out late. home in time to watch law and order reruns on usa network even. if you don't have a good time, come find me before you leave (after i'm done) and i'll give you your cover charge back.

i'm frustrated, ticked off and out to prove that i'm worth mentioning. just asking for a little help...


(i'm also skipping the first home predators game in 12 days to play the show. so i'm missing hockey AND i'm getting not-promoted. damn!)

maxim-ally exposed, the sequel

thursday. neither of us really wanted to go the party, but both of us felt like we needed to go. what did we have better to do, you ask? watch hockey, clean the house, watch hockey, wash our hair, maybe play video games (well, that'd just be me).

so we went.

it was pretty much what we expected, some type of weird hybrid between a strip club (minus the nudity) and a singles bar (plus free beer, as long as you'd drink budlight). it was also somewhat similar to a high school dance, but maybe that's just because i didn't talk to anyone and stood against the wall most of the nite.

highlights included: seeing the wife's friend very early in the evening as to not obligate us to stay for a long time, having the pictures taken in the photo booth turn out pretty well, seeing a friend of ours and simultaneously giving and receiving a "what the hell are you doing here?" look, 5 free bud lights (3 for me and 2 for the wife), break dancers, leaving early enough to catch the third period, OT, and shootout of the pred's victory against the phoenix coyotes.

i'm sure there was plenty of fun to be had were i a) a dirtbag and b) not accompanying my wife. the tennessee bikini team (or as the wife put it, "a bunch of chicks with tits, tans and tank tops") was there, in matching black tank tops and hoochie jeans. there were 3 cage dancers in the club, all wearing similar lingerie and dancing to the oomcha oomcha beat. there was the aforementioned photo booth, a place to be filmed and shown on the big screens and a bed where two more dancers were dancing and sometimes simulating acting naughty. oh, and there was this other "dancer" who did this "spinning from 2 slings hanging from a ceiling" thing. she was VERY flexible. were we at the carnival, it probably would've been pretty cool (and she probably would've been wearing more than a bra and boyshorts). all we could say was "i'm sure her parents are very happy they paid for 10 years of gymnastics lessons" and "i'm sure there are some guys up front who think they have a great view."

the moral of the story: we're not the clubbin' type. we would've been much more at home across the street at station inn. oh, that and, if you meet your obligations early on, you can still make it home in time to see hockey.

maxim-ally exposed

you all know the story of going to the wife's high school reunion a few weeks ago. to recap: wasn't looking forward to aforementioned reunion. realized that wife's former classmates weren't inbred and weren't all republicans. had a better than expected time.

one of aforementioned non-republican, legitimately conceived friends happens to work for the group that puts on the "maxim exposure" parties sponsored by maxim magazine and bud light. that party's going down tonite at bartwenty3 and yours truly will be there with the wife in tow. or vice versa.

we're not much for clubbin' in my house, unless by clubbin' you mean going to bars to hear bands. so doing the whole oohm-cha oohm-cha dance music thing is gonna be an experience. i'll try to take pictures and remember enough to talk about it tomorrow. i bet i'll have a story or two to tell...
--
oh, don't forget about the show at the 5spot in nashville on the 20th. you guys shattered my dream of meeting the fire marshall last week. help a dream come true this week. newton wants to meet the fire marshall...

fry-day

i'm crispy around the edges this week, esteemed readers. between early hours at work (i promised i wouldn't bitch about it), a tuesday show, wednesday hockey game, my boston friend's arrival last nite and the pre-arrival house cleaning i'm a little worn out. i know, however, that if i don't put a post up that no one will come visit my site and then...

so here's my lame ass friday post. pictures from the past week. have a fantastic damn weekend.















the residents pronounce it "bonner."
the residents are stupid.













bridge over the river mississippi.

yup. me and the wife have a puck with our name on it in the main concourse of the gec.hell yes, that's cool.

apparently, this door is too poor to open.

(ps - i hate how blogger makes it a royal ass owie to get more than one picture in a post. great googly moogly!)

call me nostradamus

i KNEW it. i think that i even predicted it, in print, on muffy's blog.

a few months back i said that britney spears would be in porn within 2 years. i was right.

turns out that a member of her "entourage" is "threatening" to release a tape of brit and her "i'm trying to look like that one guy in the backstreet boys" husband taggin' ass. i couldn't resist researching this (not in a dirty way, just trying to find out enough to make my laugh at her).

two words i never thought i'd see when describing a brittney spears' sex tape: laughter and disgust.

brittney's in porn...and it's not even good.

there goes her career.

dare to dream

alright. all of you guys know that i'm playing a show tonite at family wash. i'm pretty sure i've made it clear that it's a free show. what's not clear is that i'm concerned there won't be a soul there. i'm used to playing for the barkeep and the other acts, but i'm hoping that you guys can help me out tonite. therefore, i'm renaming tonite's show:

newton wants to meet the fire marshall.

can you help make a fella's dreams come true? if so, meet me at the family wash at or around 9p tonite. if not, meet me at the family wash at 9p tonite. if, like me, you want to meet the fire marshall, meet me at the family wash at 9p tonite.

it could be our lucky day...