I went home early yesterday on account of the char-broiled smell at work. It hasn't improved today. Lots of rumors about arson, garbage lit on fire in the service elevator. All I know is that if you can imagine sticking your hands into the charred remains of a camp fire, rubbing the soot back and forth into the folds of your chubby little hands, and then holding them up about 5 inches from your face and inhaling -- that's what this place smells like. It's bad. I hope people in the building realize that smoke and soot just don't "air out" -- otherwise this is going to last a while...

Oh, and Happy Halloween!

I'm not dressing up today, but if I WERE -- this is what I'd be. I'd be Guy Pearce's character in Memento.



First, I'd take a sharpie marker and put weird tattoos all over my body, spelled backwards so I could see them in the mirror. "Lefty Loosey, Righty Tighty". "1089 miles to Wall Drug". "I'm with Stupid ---->" "85% Pure American Beef". "John G. Sank My Battleship!" That kind of thing.

Second, I'd get a polaroid camera and start with some random pictures. A White Castle hamburger joint (You live here), Bill O'Reilly (He's your butler), A plate of sushi (dude, this is like raw fish, and you know how you hate RAW FISH). These are reference shots.

For step three, I'd need to go out to the bars and interact with people. Every time I meet someone, I'd say, "I have a condition..." and then give this long-ass story about how I can't make new memories. Then I'd take a few more polaroids and write down notes on everyone, starting with a bogus name and some comment like "Commando! Never wears underwear." "He'll gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today." "Really foul breath -- don't believe me? Lean in, dummy..." "Not really gay, even though he dresses like it." "She will try to seduce you. Let her." "This guy owes you a beer."

And lastly, every time I'd come back from the bathroom, I'd say, "I have a condition..." and then repeat my long-ass story about how I can't make new memories. When the waitress would bring over a new drink, I'd look at a polaroid of her (Don't believe her lies!) and say "I didn't order THIS!" Then I'd look through my pictures and get somebody to buy me that beer they owe me...

All. Night. Long.

So, what are YOU going to be for Halloween?

A lastly, a Halloween cartoon from Homestarrunner.

Mmm... Smells like California.

We had a fire in our (work) building last night, so everything smells like smoke. I'm not sure I can put up with it all day. There's a few restaurant/bars downstairs (Brothers, Rosens, The Refuge), so I have a feeling between the kitchens cooking and kids drinking and smoking, some bad mojo brewed up somewhere. On the 6th floor by our office, they have the service elevator door that's been ripped off and you can look down the charred shaft. I guess they were too busy to put up any "tape" that says "do not cross".

What really pisses me off is that there isn't ANY signs posted. Maybe it wasn't a big fire, but it's enough to rip the doors off the elevator and stink up the whole building, and nobody has the decency to post a little sign that says "Don't worry -- the fire's out". Makes me a little crabby to be confused first thing in the morning. Er, MORE confused first thing in the morning.

Anyway, here's where I want to live. I'd put this sucker right on the top of this building, and then I wouldn't have to deal with the smoke, and the view would be spectacular.

Harry Potter and the Nigerian Spammer.

What kind of ghost do you have?

Or, 81% good, if you one of those "glass half full" kind of people...

DAMN YOU RANDY NEWMAN!!!!

'Hooters girl' trades hot wings for Humvee. The article isn't that interesting, but I liked the headline. It's a grabber.

Another boxcutter is found an on airline. To quote Navin Johnson, "This guy must REALLY hate boxes!..."

Letterman... Corn... Amazing.

And finally, a special message for Luke.

Very interesting indeed. Amazon's new "search the book" feature has got some people (including the Author's guild) a little miffed, and a legal challenge could ensue. For example, I can type in something near and dear to my heart -- say, "Meatloaf Recipe" or a phrase from an e.e. cummings poem -- and Amazon shows all of the pages from books that contain that search. In essence, I can copy Meatloaf Recipe's (page by page) and poetry.

(Doh! The links don't seem to be working any more -- I smell lawyers...)

Not so good for authors if I don't buy the books, but then the pragmatic side of me says -- e.e. cummings is dead and nobody really OWNS meatloaf, right? I don't think it will hurt book sales too much, but now I know where to look for poems and meatloaf recipes -- or better yet -- poems ABOUT meatloaf recipes...

Just in time for Halloween -- Homestarrunner stencils.

Europe in chaos! Marmalade Rebellion in Austria...

When you pass on, you can have your ashes made into a statue. Here's what I want to be.

Celebrity defacer.

More junky TV coming soon (much to my delight) -- this time, they're ganging up on rich girls. HBO’s documentary “Born Rich,” made by Johnson & Johnson heir Jamie Johnson, captures the foibles of kids whose parents are millionaires; MTV’s new reality show “Rich Girls” follows a pair of wealthy friends who insist they "treat everyone the same," whether it be "the garbage man or the saleswoman at Prada"; and “The Simple Life” pokes fun at Hilton hotel heiress Paris Hilton, who tries out life on a farm for the duration of the show.

History's notable television series, reconsidered.

More breaking scientific news: According to Danish, Swedish and Greenland researchers, most walruses are right-flippered. Coo-coo-ca-choo.

Funny E-bay listing.

Saturday is Wellstone World Music Day.



Check the official web site for more details. Not sure if I'll go to any of them, but the Turf Club has a pretty decent line-up -- THE SLIM DUNLAP BAND, GRANT HART, CURTISS A and GINI DODDS, ALICIA CORBETT, THE WALSH BROTHERS, MARTIN DEVANEY, ROB RULE, ERIC KASSEL and JESSE GREENE, REDSTART, DAVE DUFFY and more, University and Snelling, St. Paul. Afternoon starting time TBA.

Also on Saturday is the annual meeting of the Minnesota Screenwriter's Workshop, which I think I'll attend.

Fantastic! Congrat's to the WB for lowering the bar one notch further. Season 2 of The Surreal Life: Tammy Faye Baker, porn king Ron Jeremy, Vanilla Ice, “CHiPs” actor Erik Estrada, former “Baywatch” actress Traci Bingham and “Real World: Las Vegas” cast member Trishelle. They’ll also have a celebrity guest move in each week on the reality show, which began shooting Monday... Yes, I will be watching...

Microsoft Office 2003 compared to earlier versions.

Little ditty... 'bout George and Che-ney... Two 'merican kids, screwing up best they can... John Cougar Mellencamp wants a Bush recall.

Amazon has a new feature where you can search for text INSIDE of a book (not just the title). I tried searching for "Pronto Pup", which yielded the following:

• The Dog Lover's Companion to Florida 3 Ed: The Inside Scoop on Where to Take Your Dog
• Fit For A King : The Elvis Presley Cookbook
• Make-Believe Ballrooms
• Porch Swings & Picket Fences: Love in a Small Town

Yep, that pretty much covers what this site is about...

Busy week...

When men are drunk, ugly women become attractive. When women get drunk, men are still obnoxious, thanks to new research from the University of Vienna.

Not feeling productive today? Well, prove it.

From The Onion: Video store clerk helpless to prevent Charlie's Angel rentals. And, salary negotiation tips.

I went to see the Westerberg premier on Monday. The director Rick Fuller was there, but "Otto Zithromax" (a.k.a. Westerberg) was a no-show -- even though he lives just a mile or two from the theater. What a dork. But, after watching the documentary, it's all to be expected. If there's one predictable thing about Paul Westerberg -- it's that he's unpredictable.

The documentary (and DVD) "Come Feel Me Tremble" works well for afficianados, as it consisted of mostly touring footage and concerts -- including the Guthrie show I saw last year. But, if you're looking for all the normal trappings of documentaries -- stuff about his wife, his kid, his relationships, his friends, the old Replacements days, etc. -- you know, his LIFE, you'll be disappointed. I guess he's kind of a stickler about interviews and scripts -- so this is just a loose collection of footage from the road. And I applaud that. As much as I want to know about the guy, I kind of like the "enigma" of the artist better.

And the clothes. Dude, I so wish I could wear the odd stuff he puts together. Maybe in another life...

Anyway, that was that.

Let's see. I finally tried the online purchasing of music through Apple's iTunes. First 4 albums were (drum roll please)...

• Verve Remixed 2
• 1 Giant Leap
• Joe Strummer -- Streetcore
• Santana & Mahavishnu John Laughlin -- Love Devotion Surrender

And lastly, today I found out that my very favorite weblog -- Plain Layne -- is going dark. So very sad. It was the most fascinating and brutally honest diary of a Minnesota girl I have ever had the pleasure of reading -- day in and day out. After watching her struggle with her very interesting life over the past year and a half, it seems she's finally found happiness and is getting married to Lauren. It's like coming to the end of a really good novel. I'm going to miss my Monday morning cup of coffee with the crazy weekend re-cap of Layne... Cup a joe, to ya... And as she likes to say...

Take very good care of you, Layne.

Just dumb stuff today:

80's T-shirts.

Can you spot the fake smile?

McSweeney's Kafka at Kamp.

This guy seems to have too much fun. Watch him dance.

The Station Agent is getting good reviews (picked up a bunch awards at Sundance). And, according to the Strib, the filmmaker got career on track in Minnesota. Well, that's encouraging.

And a quick reminder. Paul Westerberg's documentary is being screened tonight at the Riverview -- one night only, 7pm. $3 bucks, and word has it that $15 will get you admission plus a copy of the DVD. I'm gonna go.

Obligatory Westerberg link of the day -- Interview with The Onion's A.V. Club.

Pretty funny piece about today's kids playing arcade games from (a-hem) my generation. On Pong:

Andrew: This is a lot like that game. Um, whatchamacallit—air hockey.

Sheldon: Except worse.

Andrew: Blip. Blip. Blip. Blip.

Becky: I don't even see the point of having sound on this.

Andrew: Wow. The score is tied. It's so exhilarating.

Brian: I saw a documentary on this. The game was so popular in arcades that it got jammed up with quarters.

John: In this thing? [Points to the Pong game console]

Tim: I would never pay to play something like this.

John: I'd sooner jump up and down on one foot. By the way, is this supposed to be tennis or Ping-Pong?

Becky: Ping-Pong.

Gordon: It doesn't even go over the net. It goes through it. I don't even think that thing in the middle is a net.

Tim: My line is so beating the heck out of your stupid line. Fear my pink line. You have no chance. I am the undisputed lord of virtual tennis. [Misses ball] Whoops.

I am the undisputed lord of virtual tennis. Whoops! I've got to figure out a way to use that line at happy hour today...

Test drive the new Buick... er, what are we calling this?

And it's all because of Randy Newman. Bastard!

In real news, Apple finally launched iTunes for Windows. It's free, and I'm digging it so far.

First, some reader tips:

Westerberg's concert tour movie Come Feel Me Tremble is screening at the Riverview Theater on Monday, October 20th (thanks Jay).

Looking to spice up the boudoir? Try tramp lamps (thanks Keith).

Google hijacking. Type in a search of "Dean" on Google and notice the paid advertising on the right. It works with other names as well (thanks Craig). (more Google Tricks)

And now back to me... The Worst of the Twin Cities.

The Knockoff Project.

Don't pass go. Don't collect no bling-bling.

About friggin' time -- Paul Westerberg makes the cover of City Pages. Paul is dead -- Paul Westerberg talks about drinking, depressed fans, and finding a reason to live.

Oops. Posted that too soon in my excitement. There's a story -- Paul is Dead -- and then the interview.

Guess the sitcom.

Top 10 pieces of advice Gray Davis has for Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Funny piece on just what a "best boy" is -- you know, in the movie credits. They do not, as a rule, come to see the best boy, and when a reporter does, the following things will happen. Everyone in the crew will call the best boy “sir.” They will give him a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich with “the crusts cut off just the way you like it, sir!” They will ask him to sign papers marked “Very Important Papers.” They will thank him “for all the hard work yesterday . . . the orphans couldn’t be more pleased with how you saved them.” A production assistant will pretend to be his personal masseuse.

And speaking of movies -- this is a brilliant idea. Teach English as a second language by studying film scripts. Not only does it help the student learn English by hearing it in context, but they can also learn about American idioms and slang and humor. One word of advice, though. Don't try this with Scarface.

Joe Strummer's final album -- Streetcore -- is coming out in a week. Check out his video of Coma Girl.

Lost in Translation



I went to see Lost in Translation yesterday. Wonderful film. It really captured the feeling of being "lost" in a foreign land. It reminded me of my own first trip to Tokyo. This was in 1993 and it was only the 2nd time I'd ever been on a plane. Yet there I was... traveling all by myself, across the Pacific, and landing in a foreign place, alone. Navigating through Narita airport, finding the right bus and paying for a ticket, checking into a hotel -- these were enormously scary tasks, yet looking back, I almost wish there was something in my life now that could parallel that kind of wide-eyed confusion and thrill. On the bus to the hotel, I remember listening to Sade. Through a bustling Tokyo -- jet-lagged and alone -- this was one of those strange, serene musical experiences I don't think I'll ever forget.

A lot of the scenes in the movie mirrored in some fashion my own experiences -- the pachinko parlors, hotel bars, karaoke rooms, eating Shabu Shabu, the bowing and formality. It was strangely familiar territory.

As I recall, I arrived on either a Friday or Saturday, so I had the weekend to myself to acquaint myself. But I never did adjust, not really. I would wake up at 3:00am, flip through bizarre television channels, go for morning walks, look in store windows at electronic gadgets, read... After a couple of days, the strangeness was palpable. Those first couple of days I relied on room service and McDonald's, because the prospect of trying to order food at a normal restaurant was too daunting.

When I started work on Monday, life seemed to get a little more normal. I met people my age (with our distributor; I worked for a software company), and we'd work all day and then it was out for beers and karaoke at night. Normally, I would not be caught dead singing in public, but, as they say... when in Rome... The first song I sang was Doris Day's Que Sera Sera. Mind you, when I picked this, I was intentionally being ironic -- but I'm not sure how well irony translates. Not well, as I recall. But -- then, as now -- Que Sera Sera... Whatever. Lost in translation, I guess.

Great movie (go see it!), and now I find myself with all of these memories just bubbling around inside my head. Plenty of weird stories come to mind, but I'll save those for another day.

Here are some pictures from that trip.

Hollywood Science.

The real reason that the Tiger attacked Roy -- he was fascinated by a woman's big hair.

Where did laughter come from?

The Democratic Debate drinking game.

And my favorite for the day -- Help Desk George. As someone who's worked in tech support, this rings all too true...

The Simpson's at the movies. How many movie references can you find? (I got 17)...

Yar! More pirate talk. Parrot care is actually quite time-consuming.

How not to steal beer.

Minnesotan who won Nobel prize in chemistry once got a 'D' in it.

10 signs your guy's gotta go...

After a flurry of upset readers, the Philidelphia Enquirer posts this very important retraction.

Dumb idea of the day: The recording industry has just launched the 2nd generation copy protection scheme for CD's. The first was so weak that it could be thwarted with a red felt-tip pen. But, after another year in the lab, they finally perfected and unleashed the latest version on the world. Of course, within hours of release, some college student figured out you could by-pass the protection by holding down the SHIFT key when inserting the CD in your PC. Absolutely brilliant. I wonder how much money they spent on that...

Smart idea of the day: Kindergarten for men.

My favorite 80's band (when I was IN the 80's) is reuniting (and it feels so good).

Not quite the ministry of silly walks, but a noble attempt -- Trouser Semaphore.

New brain science reveals what men are really thinking. Oddly, the article doesn't mention beer or Britney Spears. Maybe they're talking about other men...

Here's someone else's analysis of the Brain of Brian.

What Replacements Song Are You?



Here Comes A Regular - Quite the depressing song, but it contains the uplifting message that drinking can cure what plagues you.

"Well a drinkin' buddy that's bound to another one,
Once the police made you go away
And even if you're in the arms of someone's baby
now I'll take a great big whiskey to ya anyway"

brought to you by Quizilla

Trivia fact: "Here Comes a Regular" is based on the 'Mats time spent at the CC Club...

In other Westerberg news, he has 2 CD's coming out on Oct. 21, plus a DVD. And this is pretty cool -- if you pre-order them online through Amazon, you'll get a streaming version of both albums NOW. Go buy 'em -- Dead Man Shake and Come Feel Me Tremble. I've got mine.

Congratulations Penny!



On 26.2 miles of utter futility. A lot of people simply don't appreciate the sheer strength and determination -- both physically and mentally -- that it takes to prepare for, and then run, a marathon. I am one of those people.

Kind of sports day for me, which is rare, since I'm not really much of a sports fan. First, I headed down to Lake Harriet to catch the Twin Cities Marathon. Marathons suck as far as spectator sports go -- like, even worse than Nascar. I knew a few people that were running, but I only managed to spot Penny (sorry Mike, Sarah)... because "watching" a marathon involves scanning the hundreds of faces as they breeze by, hoping to make some identification. Inevitably, after a few minutes, the faces start to blur and your mind wanders and the next thing you know, you DO recognize someone -- just long enough to yell "Go!... Uh... Get 'em!... You can do it!... You're..." and then they whoosh by and you know you'll never catch a glimpse of them again. And by now your coffee is cold and you're all like "aw, man!... that was IT???..." But then you realize it could be worse. I could be the one running 26.2 miles. And then you smile as you head back to your car and think, "Hey, there's a Starbucks right around the corner..."

At noon, I watched the Vikings for a bit, and then after half time I headed over to the Dome, where my Dad had scored some playoff tickets for the Twins. Unfortunately they lost. I really don't "get" the homer hankie thing either. Standing up and waving a little white hanky -- that seems a little too effeminate, or too French at the very least.

Top 20 new jobs for Rush Limbaugh.

I've got the Junior Senior "Rhythm Bandits" song stuck in my head. Download and watch of their "Move Your Feet" video...

Meep meep. The complete (and illustrated) catalog of Acme Products.

The worst Halloween costumes of all time.

Those goofy Brits.

JM Coetzee wins this year's Nobel Prize for literature. Not surprisingly, he is not well know in the US, where Walter the Farting Dog hits the top of the best seller list.

Sky High Airlines -- At SkyHigh, we don't like to think of your missing luggage as being "lost." Rather, that it has embarked on an exciting journey all its own.

Live free or die. 20,000 libertarians to relocate in New Hampshire.

Some wonderful pirate fiction, courtesy of The Atlantic Monthly.

Some pretty amazing photography.

Enjoy the police state.

"What's that Lassie? Bruce is knocked out in the outback? Crikey! C'mon, boy. Let's go save 'im."

Online shopping (for me) just got easier -- Amazon + Starbucks.

48-hour internet outage plunges nation into productivity.