Print Story Mama, I Got a Brand New Thing
Diary
By Christopher Robin was Murdered (Mon Jul 11, 2005 at 05:55:29 AM EST) (all tags)
Meeting ammoniacal and calla. Reading. Take me out to the ballgame.


    Friday I went to attended post-work drinks at Verlaine's. I entered the place hoping to use calla's red hair as the identifying feature that would lead me to fellow Hulver-site users. Unfortunately, upon entering, I found that Verlaine's was a dimly lit cave of a bar (a distinctly modernist cave, but a cave nonetheless) which used red bulbs almost exclusively to fulfill its lighting needs. This mean I had to get extremely, uncomfortably close to somebody before I could determine whether the apparent redness of their hair was genuine coloration or merely a trick of Verlaine's hipster-Hades-style lighting. After several false alarms, I decided to camp out at the bar. I took a seat and commenced to drinking.
    About 8:45, a gentleman in a New York Dolls t-shirt under an unbuttoned button-up came in and sat next to me. "You Chris?"
    Ammoniacal introduced him self by real-world name and I gave him mine. He explained that the plan had gone south on us at the last second. No other attendees were expected and calla had sitter issues and had brought along her wee one. Since Verlaine's was not exactly family-friendly, he suggested a diner or something as an alternative.
    Calla picked us up and we all drove across the Manhattan Bridge in Brooklyn. Ended up at Junior's for deserts and whatnot.
    This was my first encounter with any Internet connections in real-space. I was concerned that we wouldn't have anything to talk about, but I thought the conversation flowed fairly smoothly and easily. Both ammoniacal and calla are good peoples, calla's little one is charming (we were pushing his bedtime and he was clearly tired; however, this manifested itself in his quietly and intently amusing himself with Teen Titan action figures and not in any tantrum-throwing or anything like that).
    I'm afraid I was not very impressive. I always fear that people who like CRwM are going to be disenchanted with flesh and blood version of the same. Still, if they were disappointed, they were gracious enough to never show even the slightest hint of it and I felt like my company was enjoyed.
    Hopefully, I'll get the chance to see them again.

    Saturday, started and finished reading "Outlet," a weird little book from Randy Taguchi. The plot involves a woman who, undergoing soul searching following the starvation of death of her mentally ill brother, finds out that her vagina is magical. I'm not kidding. That's the plot.
    I don't want to recommend it; but I am, if only on the strength of its plot which is delivered without irony and with a completely straight face. Think of it as a sort of mix of "The Ring," a trendy memoir about the ambivalent feelings accompanying the loss of a particularly troublesome family member, and the content on the website "Naughty Office."
    Not since I followed the tragic-comic tale of Mrs. Lonely-Heart the Alligator-Girl in "Species" has somebody so entertained me with such an unintentionally funny story about modern love.

    Sunday, went to the Yankee's game for Loren's birthday. Bit of an endurance test; we were in bleacher seats and the sun was roasting us the whole damn game. Furthermore, no beer for the bleacher folks. Presumably, the bleacher underclass is dangerous enough without providing them over priced alcoholic libations. Still, there is a weird pride bleacher regulars take in sitting in the cheapest, worst seats in the house. I noticed several team-style jerseys that, instead if displaying a player name and number, were emblazoned with "Section 39" or "Section 41." The bleacher-regulars also managed on several occasions to organize a chant of "Box seats suck." This is as close as the working classes of New Yorker get to open class warfare.

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Mama, I Got a Brand New Thing | 9 comments (9 topical, 0 hidden) | Trackback
At least you still have both kidneys by georgeha (4.00 / 3) #1 Mon Jul 11, 2005 at 06:03:07 AM EST
There's nothing more embarrassing than calling 911 after meeting internet people and then waking up in a bathtub of ice. Fortunately, they've heard it all before.


Out of curiosity by MohammedNiyalSayeed (4.00 / 1) #2 Mon Jul 11, 2005 at 06:04:14 AM EST

Is Verlaine's owned by Television's Tom Verlaine, or is that just a complete coincidence? If so, does that mean we can expect a "Casablancas" twenty years from now, in a life-long Television Emulation Pattern on behalf of the Strokes?


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You can build the most elegant fountain in the world, but eventually a winged rat will be using it as a drinking bowl.
Parts: the Hulver Terror by Christopher Robin was Murdered (2.00 / 0) #3 Mon Jul 11, 2005 at 06:28:45 AM EST
We discussed just what organs calla and ammoniacal needed and, fortunately for me, my smoking-and-drinking ways meant that all the organs they were looking for are completely shot to hell at this point. It was decided that not even the black market, with its notoriously slack quality control standards, could move such poor grade materials and they let me off with all my original parts.

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Doh! Wrong Thread! Sorry. by Christopher Robin was Murdered (2.00 / 0) #4 Mon Jul 11, 2005 at 06:29:32 AM EST


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No Operational Connection by Christopher Robin was Murdered (4.00 / 1) #5 Mon Jul 11, 2005 at 06:39:31 AM EST
Verlaine's has this dual Vietnam/Verlaine & Rimbaud theme going. It is unclear whether the owners are under the mistaken assumption that Rimbaud spent his final years in Asia (instead of Africa) or whether they just thought lumping these unrelated things together was a cool thing to do. It doesn't, however, seem to have any thematic connection punk/art rock icon Tom.

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Well, you've done it again by MohammedNiyalSayeed (2.00 / 0) #6 Mon Jul 11, 2005 at 06:48:12 AM EST

Despite the lack of connectivity, you've determined my late-morning playlist by sheer power of suggestion.


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You can build the most elegant fountain in the world, but eventually a winged rat will be using it as a drinking bowl.
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And I Didn't Even Have to Use the Title by Christopher Robin was Murdered (4.00 / 1) #7 Mon Jul 11, 2005 at 06:51:40 AM EST
Are there any bands I should avoid mentioning? I don't want you blaming me for a Color Me Bad marathon or something similarly unpleasant in the future.

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Heh! by MohammedNiyalSayeed (4.00 / 1) #8 Mon Jul 11, 2005 at 06:54:13 AM EST

I'll be OK with the Color Me Badd-athon avoidance, though, if you could, please never mention Roky Erickson. Crap! I just did it to myself!


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You can build the most elegant fountain in the world, but eventually a winged rat will be using it as a drinking bowl.
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You didn't mention the milk! by calla (4.00 / 2) #9 Mon Jul 11, 2005 at 07:01:38 PM EST
Bless you.

I was thrilled to hang out with you. Even more thrilled that the milk incident didn't upset you as much as it worried me.

As for meeting meat-space: I worried how I'd appear in a CRWM diary. Your characters are so vibrant and fascinating. Dull is how I would appear.

Golly. What an honor! Me in a CRWM diary.

The conversation was swell - I'd recommend hanging out with you to any Husite. OMFG!!!111+


Mama, I Got a Brand New Thing | 9 comments (9 topical, 0 hidden) | Trackback