Have an awesome Thanksgiving!

Notice the absence of any knife in this photo?

Viva la cow dog!

In a world spinning out of control, perhaps a massively extended dog tongue can save the day.

You do not want to know what you have to do to join Cow Dog's gang.

Sometimes, a dog just has to try out a little cross-dressing.


Cow skunk? How the hell does that work?

Anybody lose a pet opossum on Franklin Avenue last month?

JLW, I think you might want to head down to the neighborhood library and look up "cat."

Check out my awesome self-portrait

Confession: this self-portrait is not entirely accurate. I don't actually have a beard. Other than that, this is pretty much right on the money. The unicorn's name is Humperdink.

Her name is Millie... Ms. Jackson if you're nasty.

I just want everybody to pause for a moment and reflect upon the awesomeness that is Millie Jackson.

It's good to be loved. It's even better to be loved when you're Millie Jackson and you're getting loved-up by a guy in a hard hat.


I've looked into a crystal ball, and I see Millie Jackson's awesome cleavage in your future. Lucky you.


Ok, Millie, now that was just uncalled-for. Keep your Cleveland Steamers to yourself. They may go for that kinda thing over at Afterglide, but this here is a respectable zombie-fearing blog where we don't cotton to highly inappropriate album covers... Wait a minute, that's exactly what we cotton to around here. What the hell am I talking about? This is what I get for blogging in the midst of a Tijuana Picnic.

Uh-oh, I better start taking the coming Zombie Apocalypse more seriously

According to this quiz, my odds of surviving the zombie apocalypse aren't exactly great:

55%

Science Update: Chocolate Owes Its Existence to Beer

Is there any amenity of civilization that can't be attributed to beer? Probably Not. Check this out:

WASHINGTON (Reuters) - The chocolate enjoyed around the world today had its origins at least 3,100 years ago in Central America not as the sweet treat people now crave but as a celebratory beer-like beverage and status symbol, scientists said on Monday.

Researchers identified residue of a chemical compound that comes exclusively from the cacao plant -- the source of chocolate -- in pottery vessels dating from about 1100 BC in Puerto Escondido, Honduras.

One of the researchers, anthropologist John Henderson of Cornell University in Ithaca, New York, said cacao beverages were being concocted far earlier than previously believed -- and it was a beer-like drink that started the chocolate craze.

"What we're seeing in this early village is a very early stage in which serving cacao at fancy occasions is one of the strategies that upwardly mobile families are using to establish themselves, to accumulate social prestige," Henderson said in a telephone interview.

The cacao brew consumed at the village of perhaps 200 to 300 people may have evolved into the chocolate beverage known from later in Mesoamerican history not by design but as "an accidental byproduct of some brewing," Henderson said.

You got served, Umlaut!

Check it out:

A N O P E N L E T T E R
T O U M L A U T .

October 13, 2003

Dear Umlaut,

You think you're so damn cool, huh? Just hanging out, chillin', above all those vowels. You're all, "Ooh, look at me, I'm a chic umlaut. I make girls' names look modish, like Zoë and Chloë, and I rock with strung out '80s metal bands!"

Well, guess what? You're only an umlaut if you're modifying the pronunciation of a singular vowel, like in "Führer" or "über." If you're stressing the second of two consecutive vowels or one that would usually be silent according to common English usage, you're just a plain old boring dieresis. How 'bout that, you naïve jackass? God, you're such a poseur, umlaut. You're nothing but two measly dots. You're a Eurotrash colon lying down. Nobody thinks you're cool.

Sincerely,
Josh Abraham
Kew Gardens, NY

Have an awesome weekend!

Twenty-five years from now, this incident will pay for some therapist's weekend home.


It's comforting to know that when I want scientifically accurate information, I can turn to the Beginner's Bible Coloring Book.


Aw, the delicious irony of pissing away your future heirs' inheritance on letting your future heirs know that you're pissing away their inheritance. Bernie, you are a real geezer of genius, and I salute you.

I really wish I knew what the English translations of items 8, 9, and 10 on the Forbidden Words list were.

Once again, I'm going to let discretion be the better part of blogging valor and refrain from comment. It's killing me, though.

In the off chance you'd like to join me on a Shamrock Shake Bender, here are some motivational videos

That's right. Everybody loves a guy who's been sucking down minty milkshakes all day.



I'm sure the volume of mind-altering substances involved in the making of this ad are roughly comparable to the number of toxic chemicals that go into making Shamrock Shakes. Not like I care, though.

The bathroom of the Leprechaun Mafia's HQ is soft and fuzzy

'Cos even the toughest leprechauns need a cozy for their crappers.

Thought experiment: were Admiral Nelson and I to go on a three day Shamrock Shake and Grasshopper bender, would this bathroom look any different once the vomiting stopped?

Uncle O'Grimacey wants to know.

Thought I was out of Awesome Album Covers? Think again, suckas!

Funny. My "Tijuana Picnics" usually involve a few gallons of Sauza, a donkey, and some ping-pong balls, but you just do whatever makes you happy, Colonel Sanders.

We're awesome, we're Norwegian, and we've got a phone that matches our suits. Deal with it, byotch.

We've got one turntable and no microphones...

No matter where you go, his eyes will follow you, silently commanding you... "Boogie!"


Yeah, yeah. You got the dove and all I got was the #$@!! clap. Thanks fer nuthin', Mike Adkins. I'm never going to give you a ride to Psycho Suzi's again.

I'm sick and tired of trying to match my shirts and my pants. If only someone would invent a one-piece suit for men...

I think my favorite short-lived TV was Freaks and Geeks. In one of the later episodes, the sleazy manager of a mall clothing store (played by Joel Hodgson, who is possibly the only other cool person to graduate from my creepy, creepy undergraduate alma mater) convinces young Sam Weir that his best chance at impressing the lovely Cindy is to start wearing a "Parisian Nightsuit." The results are pictured above.

Trying to go for that "I just broke out of prison, but I'm still damned sexy" look? I think the JC Penny catalog, circa 1976, can help you out.

Ok, get out your magnifying glass, 'cos you're going to want to read the fine print on this one. "Fits so tight, it shows all you've got." Woooooooow!

This dog is not lost, just awesome

Do not expect a similar flyer for the four-legged beasts of the Scooby Doo Mansion (AKA Brown and The Cow Dog) to be appearing around Lex-Ham anytime soon.

Hold Steady Video: Lord, I'm Discouraged (Live)

Excuses and half-truths and fortified wine.
Apparently, this is from the October 27 show in Columbus, Ohio.

Do not, I repeat, DO NOT piss off the Leprechaun Mafia

The leprechaun mafia thrives on shamrock shakes and vengeance, bloody vengeance.

(Tip o' the eyepatch to T-Roy for the photo)

The Hold Steady, State Theatre, Nov. 1, 2007

The lobby of the State Theatre was full of aging scenesters, tallboys of Heineken, and rumors of a Bruce Springsteen appearance. Although the band is Brooklyn-based, the Twin Cities have as much of a proprietary interest in The Hold Steady as they do in Prince, Husker Du, and The Replacements. Which meant this show was as much a homecoming game as it was a rock concert, and (rightly or wrongly) emotions, expectations, and more than a few concert-goers were high as hell.

A lot has changed since The Hold Steady's appearance last fall at First Avenue in early weeks following the release of Boys and Girls in America. A year later, you can't swing a dead cat in this town without finding some guy in his 30's who listens to the album on a daily basis. America's Greatest Bar Band has gone from actually playing in bars to opening for the Rolling Stones at Castle Slane in Ireland this summer. The biggest change was in venue, from the friendly confines of First Ave. to the assigned seating of the tres luxe State Theatre (which is usually a venue for Momma Mia! and other touring broadway musicals). This was not a change for the better, as being confined by a seat assignment felt restrictive and created an "energetic barrier" between the band and the crowd. In my case, it almost meant that the tallest, widest people in the state of Minnesota were fixed to the spot in front of me (the drunkest people in Minnesota were on my immediate left and a girl with a voice like a rake being dragged over aluminum siding who insisted on singing along with every word to the right of AC).

The band came out to an Ennio Moricone Spaghetti Western theme and promptly launched into "Party Pit" (cue crowd going 32 flavors of apeshit over the "grain belt bridge... brand new Minneapolis" lyric). The remainder of the first set was the "greatest hits" from Boys and Girls and Seperation Sunday with three new songs thrown in ("Ask Her for Adderal," "Magazines," and "Lord, I'm Discouraged").

Friends, it's the new songs I want to talk about. They were very good and they made me, as a fan who (rightly or wrongly) feels such a proprietary interest in this band, very nervous. How can I put this? They just seemed a little too accessible. Now, before you totally dismiss me as a bitter, aging hipster (some folks call me a "crypster") or a music snob, allow me to explain. I'm not Barry from High Fidelity, I have no problem with populist anthems. But part of what has made The Hold Steady so wonderful for me is the dense and complex content they provide to a basic rock-n-roll form. The new songs sounded, for lack of a better term, simple. The lyrics to the extent I understood them, seemed to be more kind of generic, adult relationship problems type stuff. Nothing wrong with that. As we left, I told AC that I am 99% certain that we will hear Hold Steady songs on KS95 before the end of next year. That's OK. They're a good band and I want to see them get paid, and the dental hygienists of the world sure need some real rock-n-roll in their lives, but I feel like I might be losing something.

The encore went back to the "Almost Killed Me" playbook. As usual, the show wrapped up with the "Killer Parties" finale and Craig's "there's so much joy in what we do up here" homily. (Disclaimer: some are now telling me that "Southtown Girls" was actually the last song of the night, and dammit, they might be right). However, unlike last year, Tad Kubler seemed much more detached from his performance and just chugged through the notes without the extended and ecstatic soloing and crowd interaction we saw before. Maybe he was just tired from touring so much. Hang in there, buddy. In contrast Galen and Franz were acting goofier than hell all through the show. Guys, whatever it is you've got, start sharing.

OTHER CONCERT NOTES:

The first opening band, Federale was a lot of good, dirty fun. Here's how to make a Federale smoothie: throw a bunch of albums by Mountain, Nazareth, Black Sabbath and .38 Special into a blender with about a gallon of bong water - then mix to sleazy, rockin' perfection. I'm pretty sure their tour van has an airbrushed painting of a wizard on the side, along with a bubble window. Sweet.

The other opening act was Art Brut, who seemed to have a brief run as a flavor of the month band back about 18 months ago. Friends, I'm not gonna sugar-coat this: I absolutely despised them. Their music is just plain old bad and everything about them came across as calculated and fake. I know they were going for "zany," or "cleverly stupid," or some shit like that, but it just doesn't work. After about twenty minutes of their set, we went out to the lobby to look for old friends. Spotted: most of the living members of Soul Asylum, and ex-Selby Tiger and Seperation Sunday producer Dave Gardner.