Category: In Which We Mock Ourselves

Hola, niños. This is Uncle Alvarez, Ellen’s acoustic guitar. It was Bring-Your-Guitar to Work Day and Ellen and I had an outing. As we were leaving for work, she was packing me in the case and I heard Gary say “You aren’t really taking your guitar to work, are you?” And my beloved said yes,…

“Mom” I said this weekend. “You need a blog.” “I wouldn’t have anything to write about.” “Well, you could write about your capers. And if you need a topic evidently there are these things called ‘Memes.’” Mom was disinterested. But I read of a meme on Amandarin, and it mentioned Chronic Listaholic. The first list…

Today I… …used a turntable to play a Pete Seeger record. A record that has not been released by Sony (bastards) in MP3 format. … said to Gary “Well if it’s so easy to build a fence, then why was it so hard for us to find anyone to build this fence twenty years ago?”…

Okay, tonight was spent investing in my iPod. It struck me that I must have at least one song from every iPod genre in my Library. But HA I do not. I am so not well rounded. People, I must be rounded, and rounded well. My goal is to have at least one song of…

I just finished watching Soylent Green. (Spoiler alert! Read no more if you don’t know how this classic ends. Oh, and stop having a life and join the Couch Potato Generation.) I’d never seen anything but the big twist ending of Soylent Green. I was surprised by two things. First, as a result of 9…

You know how there are those popular delusions in mental illness? Like the delusion the phone company is after you, the fear that tiny insects are living in your pores, that you are actually married to a celebrity? (Not that any of you would have personal experience of these things.) I’m wondering if there isn’t…

Every free minute this week has been spent with the new guitar, Uncle. (That is to say every minute not spent detailing how one can kill the infidels with potato eyes and tobacco.) I’m loving the Uncle. Evidently the secret to rock is to be unafraid of beating the hell out of your guitar. It…

Marcia (see here) has finally moved into the spacious, gracious condo she has struggled to bring into the world. I stopped by (“just for a minute”) and discovered an addled, shaking shell of a friend that only vaguely resembled Marcia. Marcia immediately reminded me she had not invited me over and what was I doing…