If I were... (pilfered from James D)If I were a planet I would be Mercury, because even it never seems to know where it's going.If I were a month I would be August, not because I'm blisteringly hot, but because if it wasn't annoying nobody would notice it was there.If I were a day of the week I would be Thursday, just a bit too late for the hump.If I were a time of day I would be 4:00am, storing up energy for a run at the unknown.If I were a sea animal I would be an urchin, minding my own business until someone stepped on me.If I were a direction I would be that way. No, the other way.If I were a piece of furniture I would be a stepladder. Occasionally useful, but hard on the shins when it's the middle of the night and you stumble into me.If I were a sin I would be lust.If I were a historical figure I would be Rasputin.If I were a liquid I would be that annoying water in your ear after a shower that you just can't get to come out.If I were a stone I would be an opal, varying based on where you come at me from.If I were a tree I would be an old oak with a rotten heart.If I were a bird I would be a magpie. What out for your shiny stuff.If I were a tool I would be that screwdriver in the drawer with a tip that works sometimes, but doesn't really fit anything.If I were a flower I would be a night-blooming jasmine, and day lilies could kiss my fragrant ass.If I were a kind of weather I would be freezing rain.If I were an animal I would be a badger. Not because I am, but because I'd like to be.If I were a color or shade I would be a shade of green that there's no Crayola match for, even in the big box with the sharpener on it.If I were an emotion I would be disbelief.If I were a vegetable I would be typing this with my tongue.If I were a sound I would be that strange noise in the distance that was either a dog howling or an escaped animal from the zoo getting its first kill in years.If I were an element I would be kryptonite.If I were a car I would be a '71 Pinto with a spoiler and nitrous.If I were a song I would be "Me Myself I" by Joan Armatrading.If I were a movie I would be directed by Kevin Smith.If I were a book I would be written by Dr. Seuss.If I were a food I would be something that didn't turn out anything like what you thought you'd ordered.If I were a place I would be overrun with tourists for a season, after which I'd be passed over for newer and more exciting places, though there'd be a small core of visitors who'd love me enough to come back every year.If I were a material I would be burlap: handy to have around but itchy as hell.If I were a taste I would be bittersweet, with extra bitter.If I were a scent I would be that smell that might be someone's fireplace, or might be the garage burning down.If I were a word I would be "mutable."If I were a body part I would be the left eyebrow.If I were a facial expression I would be quizzical.If I were a subject in school I would be creative writing.If I were a cartoon character I would be L from Death Note.If I were a shape I would be obtuse... -->adsense--> (continue reading &aquo;)

Of all the diversions of life, there is none so proper to fill upits empty spaces as the reading of useful and entertaining authors.

- Joseph Addison

It's been a hell of a couple weeks. I've been professionally violated by security and process auditors repeatedly over the span of the last few weeks, experienced one of the most exhausting on-call shifts ever last week, and have been running around in a seemingly endless state of tired and really annoyed for most of the month of October.Since I haven't had a chance to write much recently, I'm going to attempt to make up for it by directing you to the blogs of a couple people who have.Drew's Walkabout BlogI've known Drew virtually for at least several months. Maybe longer; my sense of time has always been a little screwy. In any case, he's a pretty amazing guy, and meeting him in person at this year's Burning Man was definitely one of the high points of my trip.Recently he's been doing a trek to various fascinating parts of the globe and documenting them in his always very intelligent, insightful way, and I've really enjoyed keeping up with his travels. He's also one hell of a photographer and his legs look amazing when he wears a skirt, but don't tell him I said that.World Wide JebIf you're into queer, beer-swilling, Aussie metalheads, I have some good news: one actually exists. If you've ever followed that filtercore link at the bottom of the page you've already been introduced to the author of World Wide Jeb. He's just started the latest incarnation of his blog, but I think I can guarantee it'll be worth reading; Jeb is, without exaggeration, one of the most consistently hilarious writers I've ever had the pleasure of reading. I have to be extremely drunk and have someone spin me around ten times and point me at a cliff before I get one-tenth as funny as Jeb is on an off day, and I'll never look as good in a purple mohawk as he does. I secretly hate him for all of that, but he's a great read anyway. (continue reading &aquo;)

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  Wrath of the Lich King In Stores 11.13.08
  
  
  
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Nothing ever goes as plannedIt's a hell of a notion.

- Dennis De Young, Styx

The plan was to update this place at least a few times a week, but I've been sidetracked by a few things lately.The biggest distraction has been a group of security auditors who have monopolized almost all of my time this week, and I've been so exhausted by the time I'm done with the daily interrogations that I've just got nothing left in me. I've been getting home and immediately wanting to do absolutely nothing for the rest of the night until it's time to go to bed. I've been completely drained, and I can't wait for the ordeal to be over.I also have a confession to make. Another factor in my not showing up here is a gnome mage by the name of Imtrick, my new alter-ego on the Tichondrius server in World of Warcraft. I'd managed to not get tangled up with WoW for the first few years it was out, but I finally broke down and logged in, and by the second day I'd converted my demo account to a full one.I'm not sure how far I'll get with it, being basically too antisocial to group up with strangers most of the time, and that limits my ability to complete a lot of quests. I have, however, made it as far as level 33 so far and I've really been on a roll lately.Unless, of course, I'm collapsed in a heap in the living room because I couldn't make it upstairs to the bedroom. (continue reading &aquo;)

After about the 75,000th "WTF, man?" I've  removed all traces of coolness from my profile. Sure, it looked good, but as far as MySpace profile pages go it was a little antisocial.

If I'm ever feeling industrious enough I may try again, with a little more thought given to how to do everything a typical ugly MySpace page can do, but 'til then if your eyes start bleeding looking at mine, it's for the best, I think.

As you know (because I haven't been able to shut up about it for a month), I went to see Pansy Division last night at Café du Nord in San Francisco, where they were playing with the Southern Girls and the Avengers.

 

I had expected last night's rain to screw up my travel time, but traffic was light and I got there a bit early, just before the Southern Girls went onstage. As Kris and I were wandering around checking out the place (and the people -- more on that later), I spotted a guy who looked familiar. I had Kris follow me to the table where T-shirts and CDs were were being sold and pointed at the cover of The Essential Pansy Division. "See that guy there in the pool?" I glanced over at the familiar-looking guy to my right. "Does he look like that guy over there to you?"

 

We both agreed he did, and that he must be Jon Ginoli, so at that point I had to go over and say hello. Preparing to look like a total idiot, I walked up to him and somewhat timidly asked, "Jon, right?"

 

He looked at me. "Yeah. You're Trick, right?"

 

Thank you, Jon. That right there pretty much made my night. I had left a short "have a good gig" note on the band's MySpace page yesterday afternoon, and I guess he recognized me from it. The irony that Jon recognized me from one comment at MySpace when I had to go look at an album cover and get someone else's confirmation before saying hello does not escape me.

 

I pretty much gushed nervously over him and the band for a few minutes, then forced myself to walk away before I said something stupid. He's a really friendly guy, but I had to get away before I offered to wash his car, become his personal roadie, or bear his children.

 

The opening band, the Southern Girls, was... well, interesting. They were a bunch of large, hairy guys, in dresses and really bad wigs, with a thing for Cheap Trick. 'nuf said there, probably.

 

The P.D. came on shortly thereafter, and opened their set with "Who Treats You Right," then tore through a cross-section of their catalog hitting songs like "Dick of Death," "Cocksucker Club," and "James Bondage," among others, and some new songs they recorded last week. Most of the band then went offstage while Jon did a solo rendition of "Curvature."

 

The second half of the set kicked off with Chris Freeman (who, incidentally, was looking fabulous after changing into a little strapless sequined number) switching to drums for "Luv, Luv, Luv." The set continued with "Bunnies," "No Protection," "I'm Gonna Be a Slut," and "He Whipped My Ass In Tennis (Then I Fucked His Ass in Bed)," before they closed with "Alpine Skiing." I'm sure there were other songs in the set list as well, but I'll be damned if I can remember what they were. I was there to have a good time, not memorize set lists. Sue me.

 

Maybe the biggest surprise of the night: Kris liked them (or at least didn't hate them). He was very clear about that not meaning I should ever drag him to a gig with me again, but he was smiling and laughing most of the night. Once we stepped back a bit from the four-man mosh pit that erupted in front of the stage, he really seemed to be having good time.

 

As a bit of a compromise, I had agreed with Kris that if he'd go with me, we could skip the Avengers and head home after Pansy Division was done playing, so we left as soon as they closed their set. I didn't mind... I was there for the Pansies.

 

All in all, the gig was everything I had hoped for. The band's playing was pretty tight, even though they haven't played a live gig locally in over a year, and have yet another new token hetero (Joel Reader, lead guitar) in the line-up. I had a great time, Kris didn't hate it, and Jon Ginoli knew who I was. What more could I possibly want?

I was supposed to be hitting tonight's Pansy Division gig with Katie (who you may or may not remember as my date for the Me First and the Gimme Gimmes show around last Christmas).  Well, I spoke to her today and if she's as sick as she sounded, she may not be with us any more at this point.

Kris has graciously offerred to go in her place. Part of me is really happy he's going... and then there's the other part that remembers he didn't speak to me for a week after I dragged him with me to see Bowling for Soup.

We'll see how it goes.

I'm thoroughly wiped out. A team of us were up until 3:00 am trying to get a working network out of the tangled mess of routers and cables the contracting client keeps in their data centers, with only a small degree of success. A very small degree. In other words, things are still pretty screwed up. "Things," in this context, would refer both to the nextwork and my sleep-deprived brain.

My spirits have been kept afloat, however, knowing that I'll be seeing my beloved Pansy Division tomorrow night at Café Du Nord (and by the constant reminders from my best Portuguese friend that it's right around the corner).

[Aside: I live in the U.S.A., so I'm an American. People from Canada are Canadians. I know a few Frenchman, some Mexicans, and assorted Englishmen, Scots, and Irishmen. What the hell do you call someone from Portugal? A Port? Portsman? A Portuganean? Wait, I know: a Portugasque.]

Anyway, I'm not going to let a few dropped IP packets get me down.

The Pansies are my favorite; I shall not miss them.
They maketh me jump up and down in dark mosh pits:
They singeth to me of Deep Water.
They restoreth my Political Asshole:
They leadeth me to Touch My Joe Camel for Denny's sake.

Yea, though I drove to the Silicon Valley near the campus of Apple,
I will fear no packet loss: For my Pansies art with me;
Thy Dick of Death and thy Two-Way Ass, they comfort me.
Thou preparest for a gig before me in the presence of the Cocksucker Club;
Thou annointest my ears with Vanilla; My Groovy Underwear runneth over.

Surely Headbangers and Hippy Dudes shall fill all the space of thy venue,
and I will dwell At the Mall forever.