3:22 p.m. - 2005-12-16
imbedded
Kia wants to get cable television. The way this service works is, you pay someone to come to your house and attach something to something, and then you pay a monthly fee to ensure that it remains attached. As a result, you can watch things on your tv that previously you'd only seen on the tvs of motels. My trepidation: is it evident?
It's not that I'm one of those snobby never-watching-tv people (or CLAIMING to never-watch-tv people). It's just that my mild,innate laziness could become serious and chronic with the onslaught of a million different tv channels to watch, especially if one or more of them were playing re-runs of Prisoner: Cell Block H. SEQUENTIAL reruns, not like on that tossed-off dvd collection I got a few months ago. The one that had like one episode from each season, and hardly any of them had Queen Bea, who ruled Cell Block H with an iron hand, but who, once you gained her trust, had a heart of gold. And then she left the show for whatever reason and they kept trying to come up with all these surrogate Beas and I'm like, Come on, that bitch couldn't light Bea's cigaret, let alone run the cell block with anything like her hard-as-nails style, but I guess the writers figured, you gotta have someone running the cell block, otherwise there's not as much fodder for dramatic tension with the different murderesses and lesbians vying for power, and all the fights in the laundry room and everything. But, man, Australian tv rocks. I hope there's a cable channel that's all Australian.
In other news: YID VICIOUS IS GOING TO HOLLYWOOD!!
Watch for a new installment of "The Big Time Eludes Yid Vicious Yet Again" soon!
And my solo cd has been done for six weeks but I've done fuck-all with it so far. Suspecting lately that I'm dead creatively, I tried to shake myself out of my malaise by reviewing the material on the cd, futzing with the order of the tunes, etc. It's weird how the same thing can sound different to you with the passage of time. Psychologists and men of science should examine this phenomenon. I want to book a solo show in town somewhere, but it's hard finding the right venue for the type of not-for-everyone fare I offer. Maybe Mother Fool's would give me a date. They're pretty tolerant. And, if you like ice coffee, no one makes it better. Nope. No one.
Finally, I got to play in bed the other day. I put the keyboard on the floor and my right arm draped off the side of the bed. I don't know what my left arm was doing, but overall it was pretty comfortable. Once between Optometri's two songs I looked up and there were a bunch of strangers on stage, just standing around looking at us. I think we may have succeeded in punching through the fourth wall. Plus, I think everyone had a good time, somehow without watching tv.
