I'm John McCain, and I Approved this Message

"Back when I was young, I was a grade A poonslayer. Here's a photo of me enjoying a cup of coffee and a cigarette after fingerblasting the entire Delta Sigma Theta sorority house. It was swell!"



"One time I banged Michelle Obama's grandmother. I didn't even call her the next day. But that's OK, cause she was a Colored. After graduating from the Academy I became a soldier!"



"I went to Vietnam where they let me hold a REAL GUN! But then I got captured and they yelled at me and hit me with sticks a lot. Here's a picture of the Gook who hit me. I HATE HIM I HATE HIM I HATE HIM!"



"But that was a long time ago. Now I look like a strange little crustacean. Excuse me for a moment while I lay eggs in your ear."

Spyin' on Mood

Get this: I was working at the antique shop alone today when a woman with a thick French accent came in. She gushed on and on about how she, too, works in a gallery. She insisted on showing me her gallery's website, and directed me to Gallart.com. The gallery is in Florida, is gargantuan, and sells an unbelievable amount of shitty art. But, and here's where it gets good, there's a live webcam overlooking the gallery that YOU CAN CONTROL FROM YOUR COMPUTER! Doesn't sound particularly exciting? Well it makes me feel like James fucking Bond! Oh, and I forgot to mention that it let's you take SNAP SHOTS. Here are some super stealthy spy photos I took:

This is what the gallery looks like.


Our attention is best focused on the art, right? WRONG! If you make the camera move to the left, you see this fellow hard at work.


"But", you might say, "I want to see what that man's FACE look like!"
No problemo.


Gotcha! But what good is a face without a name. Let's see what happens when we take a gander at his computer screen.


Mood. The man's name is Mood. Seriously. I can guarantee that he's been getting shit for his name since he was born. It almost makes me feel guilty for spying on him. Almost. Out of curiosity, let's just see what Mood is writing about.


Holy crap! What kind of operation is this, anyway? We must find out together. I urge all of you to spy on Mood and his coworkers and see what you can come up with. Here's how you take spy photos:

1) Click HERE, which will take you to the webcam homepage.
2) Select a viewer from the list. I've been using "Java applet viewer". Once you select one, you will be taken to a live shot of the gallery.
3) Click on "Control" from the toolbar at the top. Arrows will appear that allow you to control the movements of the camera. Click "Tele" to zoom in and "Wide" to zoom out. The camera reacts slowly, but it's totally freakin worth it.
4) Finally, when you find a frame you want to immortalize, click "Capture" on the toolbar at the top.

The woman who told me about this gallery also mentioned that they'd gotten robbed recently. The thief got away with tens of thousands of dollars worth of sculptures. I asked if the webcam was already installed when the robbery took place, and she said that yes, it was. I wonder how he cased the joint?

That's it. Snoop around and find out what you can. If you take photos that are particularly interesting, send them to 413some@gmail.com and I will post them here. You have no idea how much fun this is.

Here are some more interesting things I found:

There's a woman who sits at the desk next to Mood. Let's take a peek under her desk.

BUSTED! Drinkin' on the job. Tisk tisk.

Let's look over by the register. Why, it's the credit card machine!


Look, a customer is making a purchase!


I sure hope no one is spying on their PIN number!


What a shit show.

I Am A Very Mature Grown-Up

These days, everything is topsy-turvy. Texting is the new talking, not smoking is the new smoking, bitch is the new black, and 25 is the new grown-up. This means that I, myself, am about to officially become a grown-up.



When you are a grown-up, you automatically know how to do the following things: online banking, soothe a crying infant, comparison shop for skilled auto mechanics, get divorces, and tell when someone has a fever by placing the back of your hand on their forehead. On friday I will possess all of these skills. I will also no longer laugh when people fart in public because buddy, that's just not very funny.


Wipe that smirk off your face right this moment, Mister!

The younger and more childish me would have found the following photograph hilarious.

Now I view it as an opportunity to celebrate the rich diversity and beauty of all the world's cultures. This means that I have become a man.

To celebrate this new phase of my life, I will start by attending the theater. I am going to see a very refined and very adult play (when I say "adult play", I don't mean X-rated or anything. If you thought I did, it's because you are child-like and clearly aren't a grown-up yet). It is called The Canterville Ghost, and apparently is so scary that many audience members have wet themselves out of fright. The former version of me would have giggled at this. The grown-up version of me sympathizes with these individuals because, on a serious note, incontinence is a problem that many adults have to live with.


The very official Shakespeare & Company website summarizes the play thusly:
"Internationally celebrated director Irina Brook and her company of talented Shakespeare & Company artists have freely adapted Oscar Wilde's story about a very American family that blusters its way into a haunted English manor, thoroughly annoying the stuffy old ghost who can't seem to scare them a whit. In this roaringly original adaptation, Sir Simon the Canterville Ghost is re-imagined as an over-the-hill illusionist reliving his glory days in the 1940's. Beneath the outrageous veneer of Wilde's achingly funny story is a depth of emotion, as the old ghost's long-delayed salvation rests upon a family's ability to trust, and a young girl's desire to believe. "

"Stuffy old ghost"? "Blusters its way"? "a whit"? This will certainly be the perfect occasion to practice wearing a monocle and passing out my business card.

Later that evening, after a full day of eating high-fiber meals and saying "Hmmmmm" in a knowing manner while reading the New Yorker, I may venture to Pittsfield's Copperworks for a civilized musical performance. If I'm feeling particularly saucy, perhaps I shall treat myself to a lime rickey.


The band is called Bella's Bartok, and they play "X-treme Klezmer". I do not know what that means.

To wind down the weekend, Sunday will conclude with a relaxed evening of soft food and quiet music at the Dreamaway Lodge in Becket. The very serious band Vetiver is going to be playing there. They are from San Francisco where I used to live, and they are widely renowned for their maturity and their beards. Here's what my friend Katie looks like when she's on their album cover. I think that she's a grown-up, but I'm not sure. She does have a very serious look on her face.



Would you like to join me during this weekend of subdued celebration? I'm going to need to see some ID first because, like the back room in the video store, this party is not for children. Come ride the geriatric train with me. Next stop: middle aged mediocrity. Toot toot!

My Internet Fame Is Skyrocketing

You doubted me, didn't you? I told you that I was a very famous and respected music video actor, and you assumed I was exaggerating. Well the following music video, made for the first single by musical sensation Xbians, shall silence you forever.
To learn more about what's going on here, go to myspace.com/xbians.

Meet Your Local Barista #3

Nick Motherfuckin' Dixon!!!


As the youngest member of the Lenox Coffee family, Nick's hobbies include fencing, not being able to drink, and still being trapped in high school. On the bright side, his fresh young face hasn't succumb to the ravages of stress and old age that have all but destroyed the good looks of the coffee shop's more seasoned employees.

Although he will deny it to the grave, Nick is actually a close relative of America's 37th president, Richard Nixon.

Nick Dixon.............................................................................Dick Nixon

The resemblance is undeniable. After graduating from high school, Nick plans on bombing Cambodia and spying on the Democratic national headquarters. He will be impeached.

But until then, Nick remains the youngest and most tender Lenox Coffee barista. Local cougars take note.

Here is a documentary about Nick Dixon for your viewing (masturbating) pleasure. Boner Apetite!

Do You Like Pleasure?

Then meet me at 11:30 behind the Big Y. But if you're more of a "pants-on" kind of person, you should check out Mt. Eerie, formerly known as The Microphones, playing at the Copperworks in Pittsfield tonight, Wednesday Sept 24.


Independent musicians enjoy trees and hills and also fog because it reflects the emotional fog they feel inside.

Mt. Eerie almost certainly has a Myspace page or an official website. If I were a better blogger, I would include a link to it here.

Allow me to anticipate and answer some questions you might have:

Question: When and where is this show happening?
Answer: It starts at 8:00 PM at 34 North Pearl St in Pittsfield, MA.

Q: This is an "alcohol free" show. What does that mean?
A: It means take your rotgut moonshine somewhere else, you washed up old drunk.

Q: Why is a very famous musician playing at the Copperworks?
A: Because famous people, like migrating birds and certain types of whales, can sense the magnetic north using a special cerebral node. The Copperworks activates this node.

Q: Does it cost money to see the show?
A: Members of the press, such as myself, actually receive money and oral sex in exchange for attending events like this. But commoners like you will have to pay $7.

Q: Is it true that Jesus will no longer love me if I touch me wiener at night?
A: False. Jesus stopped loving you years ago.

Q: Where can I find information about this concert that isn't tinged by the biases and agendas of the radical right wing media?
A: At the Copperworks website, you freedom-hating liberal homosexual.

Let's Talk About Embarrassment

In our image-driven society, in which the ego is worshipped and the individual is emphasized over the group, it's really, really easy to fuck up. It goes without saying that one's primary day-to-day goal is to maintain their own reputation and to establish his or herself as an important individual who is high in the social pecking order. But such status is tenuous at best.



You can do everything right for years and no one says anything, but then BAM! You show up to school wearing the wrong t-shirt and you are banned for life from the cool kids' table. Just like Def Leppard's drummer who lost his arm, no one ever takes you seriously again.



There are different kinds of embarrassment. There's the type you feel when you get a boner in second grade, the type that makes you cringe when grandma says "nigger", and the type you experience when you see something that degrades everyone involved. This video is an excellent example of the third type of embarrassment.



This type of embarrassment is especially terrible since it affects everyone who witnesses it. This particular clip mortified an entire generation. That's why they had to shoot Elizabeth Berkely. No one is sad that she's dead.

But the worst kind of embarrassment is the personal kind, the kind that involves you making a mistake that becomes the subject of ridicule. And sometimes these mistakes start out seeming like good ideas. For example, I recently tried to prove my hypothesis that Nair would have no effect on my incredibly masculine chest hair. I was not only wrong but also, according to some of my close friends, fucking retarded.


Goodbye, cool kids' table. Sigh.

Embarrassment Update:
This man's name is very embarrassing.

But at least he owns a home.