Nobody, Especially Not This Person, Does It Better

I love memoirs. I really enjoy reading how people examine their own lives, how they interpret their experiences and what they choose to recollect and what they don't.


And I love most all celeb memoirs - the good ones for the reasons above and even most of the bad ones for the way some people twist and turn experiences so they come up smelling like roses. Biographies too, but there's obviously a difference between writing your own story and writing someone else's.

Know what I don't like? Stupid biographies. I was excited when the NYPL emailed me to say this buddy was ready for pick-up. I'm a casual Carly Simon fan, and figured this would be a fun way to get some context for her albums; a romp through her 70s and 80s love affairs and whatnot.

But you know what? The dummy that wrote it doesn't know a dang thing about anything. Ahem:


Um, if you don't know symbolism, I don't need to spend time reading your stupid book. She doesn't change the sheets for Jesse because he's incontinent, she changes the sheets for him because she's excited he's coming home, and they're going to Do It.

So, this one's going back to the library. And I'm going back to my Carly Simon albums and youtube moments.




This book is so stupid I could R.I.P. myself. Now that would be incontinence.

You Keep Lying When You Oughtta Be Truthing

This morning David emailed me the perfect venn diagram of our friendship.



19 years of good times represented in 2 minutes and 47 seconds.

I Am Running Not Walking

And after I eat it I'll probably be running not walking too, but some things are worth it.

This is my generation's Chocolate + Peanut Butter.

(from here)

Friendship, Meat, & Balls

So the other day I was at work, doing what I always do, which is write books all day and think about them.

On this particular day, I was writing a book about MEATBALLS. If there's one thing I like, it's meatballs. And puns, especially puns about balls. Who else likes puns? Evan!

So, I got on the horn to him and we made some plans. Cookery! With Balls!

First, we got all the ingredients. We were going to make lamb balls, but I guess all the little baby lambs that day got to grow up to be sweaters, and instead we got cow meat.

Here's all the ingredients, including the wine and Evan's left hand:


First thing you do, you mix up the meat and the ingredients to make the balls.


Mix mix mix!

Action shot:
Aeriel shot!

Sometimes maybe it is tempting to eat the one giant ball, but it is ill-advised.

Temperance won out, and Evan made lots of little balls for eating:

Then we packed 'em all up! Nice and snug, balls in a rug.

Oh! And special homemade pisketti sauce, from that place.

Extra prancing, that's what makes it taste so good.

In conclusion: balls!

Happiness.

Friendship.

A Churning Urn Of Burning Funk

James Taylor never sounded so good.

Shark v. Shark

I'm not sure what to do with this information.


I guess some days you're the shark, and some days you are the other shark.

The Metaphor Gets More Complicated When A Lady Sings It

Hot Damn. Why is this special not available on DVD?

This is really pretty amazing, from the Art or Bust TV Special in 1984. Now, I do like Lady Gaga, but it should be pointed out that Bette was rocking this square dress 2 years before she was born.



According to the internets, Bette recorded this track for the No Frills album, but Springsteen wouldn't let her use it, saying her version was too girly. Instead, she went with "Beast of Burden," and we know how that turned out. Maybe all that time in bed with Bowie made Mick Jagger more comfortable with his sexuality.

Taking A Lesson From These Autumn Leaves

In honor of St. Valentine getting shot in the tummy by an arrow, here's a link to a band that soundtracked the heartache of my early 20s covering the singer that soundtracked the heartache of my teens and late 30s. God Bless Us, everyone.

(click here to hear the music)