Future: Unknown

As you've all probably figured out (the four or five of you that keep reading this site), I've become nothing short of hopeless at keeping this blog active. It's a combination of things - between real life, work, marriage, dogs, cycling, and generally enjoying life, as well as writing for Pajiba and (hopefully) continuing to write about music, I simply don't have the time.

Which sucks, because I love this blog. It's what got me started. I met some good... no, great because of it. I've done a surprising amount of soul-baring on it, some of which was so intense that I eventually went back and removed it - there are some things that should remain mine, I suppose. It helped me find a home at Pajiba, and introduced me to dozens, if not hundreds, of new people. I was surprised at the amount of attention it got - little by major blogging standards, but considering it was nothing more than stories about me hurting myself and pictures of my dogs, that was quite a shock.

But as of late, I've been neglecting the ol' Meat Factory. Which leads me to think that it might be time to let it die. I mean, we're in the 40th week of 2009, and this will be my 21st post. There was a time when I'd write 21 posts in a single month... but then again, I had a lot more spare time back then.

So it's not official yet, but it probably will be soon. We'll see.

Then again, you always know where to find me.

He's a big dumb animal, folks

Sooo, yeah. It's not dead yet, this blog-type thing of mine. Not sure what the future holds for it, because between Facebook and Pajiba and everything else, I'm running out of things to write about. But I figured I'd let folks in on a little fun... and not-fun... that I had this weekend.

Went camping! Camping's always fun! Nothing ever goes wrong, right? And for two days, that was true. Hiking, sleeping in tents, throwing rocks in the river, watching my friends fall in said river, etc., etc. Oh, and drinking. There was a good bit of drinking.

Made it through two and a half days without injury or falling in the river. Saturday, we're hiking down the streambed, jumping across rocks, navigating around fallen trees, stuff like that. It was quite lovely, having a great time, until... I duck my head under a tree branch and feel something hit my head. Followed by a buzzing. Then a white-hot stabbing pain in my ear. Then my hand. Then it gets worse. I yell and scream, slapping at myself, and stagger back.

Wasps. I hit my head on a goddamn motherfucking wasp's nest.

Got stung once on the ear, once on the right arm, and five times on the left arm. Yeah. Seven times total. No bad reaction, other than a few welts that went away within 24 hours, racing adrenaline, and a complete lack of dignity. Man, those fuckers hurt.



Egads.

So, that's what I've been up to. You know, the usual.

Actually, there is something somewhat important. I'm doing a charity bike ride to support lung cancer research and awareness in October, and I need to raise some money for it. So if it's not too much trouble, click here and donate some, will ya? Or if you're a cheap bastard, then go to hell.

No, no, I didn't mean that.

Well, sort of.

Whatever. Click. Donate. Thank you.

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Now playing: Lamb Of God - Contractor
via FoxyTunes

The Greatest Film Ever Created

OK, maybe not. But still, I reviewed it. Please to enjoy by doing the clicking here.

That is all.

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Now playing: Powerman 5000 - Swim With The Sharks
via FoxyTunes

Why It's Good That I'm Not Single

Sooo... a story or two for y'all. Wednesday night, after a looooong ass day at work, I met a friend at the Paradise Rock Club in Boston to see the phenomenal Southern Culture on the Skids, as well as Los Straightjackets. The show was fantastic - Los Straightjackets were... well... They only speak spanish. And they wear suits. And Lucha Libre masks. And play instrumental surf guitar rock. And they kicked ass.


Yup. Awesome.

SCOTS was similarly excellent. But of course, that's not why I'm here today...

So. I'm standing there with my friend J, drinking a beer, bobbing my head and tapping my feet, when someone bumps into me. I turn to my left, and a girl looks at me and smiles. I promptly drop my beer onto the floor. Then I give one of those not-quite-laughs-more-like-the-cackle-of-a-mental-patient things. I pick up my beer (it was a can, thankfully). Try to drink some. Spill it on my shirt.

Needless to say, she looks mildly terrified and slowly starts to move away from me. And not just because of the puddle of Pabst that is slowly creeping towards her feet.

Sigh.

Eventually, we move to the other side of the club. J is a couple of steps in front of me, getting down and boogying. A different girl is walking past me. I step on her foot by accident. And this was even weirder. She stops, looks at me. I raise my hands and mouth "Sorry 'bout that."

You'd expect that she would either a) nod in acceptance and move on, or b) get pissy. Well, no. She for some reason opted for c) - wrap her arms around me and kiss me on the neck. I backpedaled frantically until I bumped into the bar. She untangles herself, looks at me cockeyed, and walks away. Minutes later, I tell J this story and he says, "You stepped on her foot and she tried to make out with you? Is that all it takes these days?"

Weird. Very, very weird.

Anyway. Happy Memorial Day, everyone.

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Now playing: The Sword - Lament for the Aurochs
via FoxyTunes

Consider me stunned

I'm not even close to a Ben Folds fan... nor an A Cappella fan. Yet I reviewed the album that combines the two. Sometimes, I'm woefully unqualified for my job.



Anyway, click here for the review of Ben Folds Presents University A Cappella.

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Now playing: Ben Folds Presents: The Sacramento State Jazz Singers - Selfless, Cold and Composed (University A Cappella Version) [Explicit]
via FoxyTunes

Help Stop the Bleeding

OK, OK, OK... so I haven't posted in a while. And by "in a while," I mean "since friggin' March." What can I say. I've been busy, between work and not-work and Pajiba and, you know, stuff. I'm trying to spend less time on the internet, now that the weather has changed for the better. We'll see how successful that is. BUT, that does sorta kind serve as a good segue into today's topic which is...

Your money. Specifically, I need you to give it to someone, for something important. My good buddy Virgil, of My Taste in Wine Leans Towards Vodka (a top contender for best blog name ever), is training for a charity bicycle ride to benefit people and kids with hemophilia. It's an important cause, and Virg is putting himself through hell to train for it. Why, you ask? Well, because it's no ordinary bike ride. It's the California Coastal Ride, and it's a week long. And it's almost 700 miles long.

Seven. Hundred. Miles. Long.

Yeah, I know. He's insane, and possibly on crack. Or both, I'm not sure. I mean, I'm a pretty avid cyclist, but I got tired just writing that. I rode 40 miles last weekend, and kind of wanted to die, so 700 miles is flat-out crazy. But, Virg was one of the big motivators who helped me become addicted to get into biking. I went from an out of shape slob to a slightly less out of shape slob, thanks in no small part to his advice, recommendations, and support. So I owe him big time.

That, coupled with the fact that it's an incredibly worthy cause (he was inspired by another rider friend of his, whose son has hemophilia). So, it's a good cause, and it helps kids. Which means you should help out, however you can, otherwise you hate children and the future. And the earth. And you don't want to be that person, do you?

Anyway, read Virg's post about it here, and then click over to here and donate, damnit! Yeah, I know, global economy in the tank, blah blah blah. I don't want to hear it. I said donate!

That's all for now. I hope you all are well.

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Now playing: The Legendary Shack Shakers - Help Me
via FoxyTunes

Farewell

Rest in peace, Amanda (aka Alabama Pink).



I'm not great at eulogizing, so I'll leave it up to those more eloquent than I. Please click here. And here. And here. And here. And here. And most of all here, but... steady yourself before clicking on that one.

Finally, our Pajiba tribute is here.

Amid the chaos of that day, when all I could hear was the thunder of gunshots, and all I could smell was the violence in the air, I look back and am amazed that my thoughts were so clear and true, that three words went through my mind endlessly, repeating themselves like a broken record:

You're so cool.

You're so cool.

You're so cool.

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Now playing: Gaslight Anthem - Even Cowgirls Get The Blues
via FoxyTunes