Kick it

I don't wish I had actually been there for this, but I do walk by these guys from time to time. It always makes me wonder...should I stay in case anything else gets kicked?

give it more throttle you bloody c**t

¡oyen mucha! zanman did something today that tons of people do everyday but the difference is...i have what i think is a funny story to go along with it. i learned to ride a motorbike today at a local mototour outfitter here in antigua. the bike i had somewhat resembled this one. (i should have some pics soon on my site) the lesson itself is more or less your everyday garden variety anecdote chock full of stalling out, leaving the turn signal on, and locking up that rear break a bit...but the imagination of this prodigal student is something else. my instructor, a friendly welsh gentleman with what i thought was a thick australian accent could not have been more helpful and insightful. he did have a substantial cranial scar on his shaved head that made me think he knew what he was talking about, it also made me feel less like a moron for wearing my helmet with sun visor. (i was like the ricky williams of cobblestone dirtbiking) anywho, david was patient, professional and polite in the education process. (i think there were a few other P's to success including Poise, Personality, A Positive Mental Attitude, (im)press the customer, Primp Always, Positivity, Please Don't Flush Sanitary Towels Down the Toilet, Phreeze Plenty of Ice, Placate, Posture, Pomp and Circumstance, Pterodactyls, Good Dinosaurs to Mention to Kids, Patriotism, Pepper and Professionalism. i'm sorry i thought of about 5, then had to look up the rest, classic!)

ok, so everything went great. the lesson lasted about 4 hours. but all the while, i was remembering back to when i was learning how to drive for the first time in my dad's standard F-150. 2nd! 3rd! Clutch, Clutch! all gruff, resonant commands that still echo throughout my subconscious to this day. my dad was an excellent teacher, but psychologically reduced me to a skittish cat that gets beaten with a bat if he gets to close to the furniture. most of you know me to not be the most patient individual, and today, no exception ...after a few consecutive stalls, i was beside myself with anger. i looked up at david and he didn't appear disappointed or frustrated. the weird thing was i kinda felt disappointed. why wasn't this guy more like pops?

i actually laughed out loud after imagining my dad getting on my ass with a thick southern uk argot and not holding back with the expletives. "godammit! if you run over one more cone you can forget any more lessons, you can also kiss college goodbye, now chop bloody chop mate!" i relaxed a bit after this imagery. i suppose if this was s.o.p., this guy wouldn't have a job, but it really did have me wanting the abuse, some really rough feedback, i felt like like robin givens moonwalking back into the arms of iron mike after a decision loss in the early 90´s. all and all, i got the basics down. i think with a full day's practice i'd be just one dennis hopper sidekick away from easy ridin' central america style. vrroom!

History of a download

Rewind in time to 1992. It was the first time something I listened to had actually moved me into action. The first CD I ever bought was Jimi Hendrix and The Experience's "Are You Experienced?." I got it at the mall. The mall was a place that I suddenly had to show appearance at. I was wearing my Girbaud Jeans and a T-shirt with my Duke Blue Devils hat on. I made sure my mom was walking well behind me, as if someone was going to come up to the 13-year-old me and tell me how cool I looked. Hastings was the local book/music store that was the only outlet for cds. I walked into Hastings to the Rock section and spent $14.99 on a Jimi Hendrix album that my father had on vinyl.

Maybe I should rewind some more though, that Christmas I had received my first stereo system. It was an Aiwa with a tape deck and a CD player. I had some tapes, they were of the Young MC and Milli Vanilli variety. I traded Milli Vanili for New Kids on the Block in 5th grade from Daniel Leal. But it wasn't until I heard the psychedelic guitar of Hendrix, that obsession took over. Suddenly, all my disposable income went to cds. The Breeders, Nirvana, Metallic ("And Justice for All), Soundgarden. These were the first on a list of many that composed my collection.

Fast-forward to the advent of a cd burner and my first, personal, computer. A 56K modem was the fastest thing you could own, and I was borrowing cds from my friends like mad, creating a pile of markered blank cd's that would eventually overtake my bought cds.

In the summer of 1999, it somehow got wind of a little program called Napster. I think the first thing I downloaded was Pink Floyd's "Dark Side of the Moon." By the end of August, I was in college, and I had access to a T1 connection. T1 meant 10 times as fast as my feeble modem. I downloaded songs as singles. I had a hell of a singles collection. By 2000, the Napster phenomenon had lapsed and I now had a collection of mix cds. It was like the tapes you used to make from the radio, except now they sounded better. In 2003, I was introduced to DC++. My friend Alex directed me to the correct hub, and I suddenly had at my disposal, any indie band I ever wanted. These days, the indie hub still works, but I find that the mp3 blogs are out-pacing the dc++ hubs in terms of new music.

I'd like to think that all this music has kept me abreast of new trends and new bands, and it has, but the sheer power of word of mouth has beaten all of these new avenues of acquiring music. I've heard of more bands that I absolutely love from various friends of mine, than I have from these digital avenues of downloaded music. My taste have spanned generations, and my love for live music has only increased. Do I think it's wrong that I don't purchase everything I like immediately? No. I use the mp3 platforms to find new music, and then support these bands by attending live shows, and I still buy real albums. If anything, the download generation has taught me that what is put out for the masses' consumption is only the tip of a large undiscovered iceberg, the majority of it underwater, waiting to be noticed.

That's bone. And the lettering is something called Silian Rail.

There's no debate that the idea of judging a person solely on his business card has been around for awhile. But when you spot something truly genius, it can take your breath away. Take our friend Dr. So & So with MAXIMUS. If the gold lettering, and for those of you who don't have 3D glasses on, raised Times New Roman bold-face haven't set off the douche bag alarm in your head, then the quote under the title should. "Helping government serve the people." You could easily mistake this for a penis enlargement company, in fact I'm sure there's a court battle in the San Fernando Valley over trademark right now. Come on Dr. So & So you're no friend of the human being component of the word person, you're more good buddies with the corporation (law-defined person). So & So the lobbyist isn't green backing the glad hands of Senator Rightside for your children's educational interest. This d-bag ought to take a lesson from mother dearest below:



Keep it simple, make sure your logo doesn't give you a persona you don't want and try and take it easy on raised lettering and any use of gold font colors. Also, no script of any kind.

An Open Letter To "No Name"

An open letter to the woman on the subway this morning who not only stepped on my entire foot (on purpose), but also hit my lunchbox twice because it was in the general vicinity of where her ignorant ass was sitting (not standing as I was) on the subway...

Dear "No Name":

You are a dirty poose-faced tramp.

xoxo,
LD

diablogue

what do you really think of me?

or

gos: hey rich! what are you looking for?
rg: my career, have you seen it?

or

your mom probably wouldn't approve of me...makeout?

or

you gonna finish that apple?

or

true story, me and jdepp were playing dominoes naked, i mean buck naked

or

nah man, not just windows....i do floors, bathrooms, pools, whatever you need

or

gos: hey, you're richard grieco right?
rg: yeah, totally...you want an autograph?
gos: no, i want you to get off my lawn before i call the cops
mm: what about me?
gos: no, matthew modine...you're fine...you can sleep on my lawn anytime.