Of Spambots and Our Comments Section: A Quick Word

Some of you may have noticed our comments sections has seen some increased activity. However, it's not exactly a desired increase, considering that the majority of these comments have been some sort of terrible spam. Now, I have no idea what the benefit of having obvious spam fill up a blog's comment section is...but apparently some people think it's a good idea. I just fear that these spambots will one day rise up and turn into the Sentinels from The Matrix



As a result, we've had to delete a few comments. Rest assured, none of the comments deleted were made by real people, but were purely spam comments--we kind of believe in free speech around here. However, we have left some of the spam comments up, and you may wonder what our official policy is. It's pretty simple--if we think that the spam is hilarious or too ridiculous to even bother with, we're going to leave it up. Because we all need a laugh, and it's too bad that Spamusement has stopped updating.

WDR Recommends: A Little Light Reading

We understand that many of you shape your entire worldview by solely looking at this blog. This makes you more knowledgeable than 94.3% of Internet users, and for that, you deserve a pat on the back (WDR Courtesy Note: before forcibly taking your neighbor's hand and placing it on your backside, it is best if you ask for their permission, preferably in writing). However, we feel that your education would be slightly incomplete if you solely rely on us, so we're providing some interesting links that we've come across.


The Right Has No Clue What To Do. Paul Krugman offers up a column that states clearly what I've been saying in private for some time now--the Right knows how to capture a phrase, but never follows through on their promises. All this talk of "small government" was en vogue during the 90's when the Republicans came into power once again, but we saw greater spending and greater deficits--you know, just like Reagan. And we're seeing the rise of that rhetoric once again, and just as repeated history dictates, we're seeing no actual solutions from the Right. Spending cuts sound like a good idea, until you try to figure out what needs to be cut.

Labeling a "Terrorist" Glenn Greenwald provides a scathing critique of the unwillingness to label the "Tax Protester" a terrorist, despite fulfilling every qualification for the term--except for being a Muslim/Arab. This looks at our nonsensical application of the word, from those who target military targets but are Muslim ("Terrorist") versus those that kill civilians, but are white ("Separatist" or some other term). You would think that this is important, considering that if you are labelled a terrorist you can be shuttled off to Guantanamo and be deprived of basic due process, even if you're an American citizen.

Milk Inspires Poetry A product review for a gallon of milk sparks creativity in the minds of Amazon users. Also check out this product that other users bought.

Other People Learn of the Brilliance of "Lady Terminator" A look at Indonesian exploitation films, and finally we have a reason why Lady Terminator exists and is nearly indistinguishable from a porno.

WDR Recommends This week, we recommend renting Black Dynamite. This is an absolutely hilarious film that examines the Blaxploitation era in a whole new light, and will have you on the floor laughing as you repeat back lines like "Now Aunt Billy, how many times have I told you not to call here and interrupt my Kung Fu!"

Hump Day Helper: The Unknown Band Edition

Because it's Wednesday, and we all need a pick-me-up to make it through the rest of the week in our respective hells, WDR is providing some fun.


Fresh off a post that talked about how much fun it is to discover new music, I've got a video here from a band that I discovered back when I was working in radio. One of those bands that nobody else probably knows about, but of course, that doesn't mean that they're not any good.

It's interesting what it can take to get a guy's attention at a radio station. Sometimes it's a creative press-pack, some insistence from a promoter, or even just a great band name that will do the trick. With these guys, I don't even think it was any of these--it was just luck. I popped in the CD, listened to the first track, and thought, "Hmm, we might have something here." And then this song appeared on my new music show for a month after that, and I made a copy of the album for my personal collection.

The video has a nice dreamy quality to it, which matches the soothing, hazy quality of the music. Not your normal uptempo Hump Day pick, but I think it'll do quite nicely. Just relax, and take it in, and don't get upset like some people if you haven't heard it before.


Hold your heart out, hold your hand out...

The Angry Flirt

Instead of the usual bar scene, this past Saturday night Mr. Zhuang and I decided to head over to a "house party" to celebrate Mardi Gras--only this house was a crowded apartment right in the middle of the East Village and overlooking Second Avenue. It's about as close as you'll see law students cutting loose in the middle of the semester, though one can argue celebrating "Mardi Gras" a week late is all the excuse you need to get future lawyers to get their drink on.


I came prepared for the festivities, proudly wearing my Saints sweatshirt which announced to all who looked upon it that I had actual ties to the holiday and knew a little something about the traditions. I even came prepared with beads of my own; Mr. Zhuang brought with him the baby that he had found from our King Cake and the plastic cup that came with the cake, ready to serve as the Taster for the "Hurricanes" that were being prepared. We had a great time, as I got to friends that I rarely get to see any more and Zhuang continued to serve as said Taster, and the night passed without major incident; all in all, a pretty decent Saturday night.

That being said, I wanted to call up an incident that is the inspiration for the title of this blog, and puts a spin on the usual "Nic Ouzo Frightens Women" story. At one point I was being introduced to a couple of ladies who were friends of one of my classmate, and we began talking. One of them noticed my Saints sweatshirt and asked about it, and I replied, yup, I was born in Baton Rouge and had been a Saints fan all my life, and yup, I was as excited as a pig on payday when they won the Super Bowl. At some point, one of them asked if I played for the Saints, and being a little confused, I said, no, not quite (I mean, I'm built like a linebacker, but one that would sit on the end of the bench). It was at this point I realized that perhaps this girl was a little unhinged and more than a little drunk, but here I was, in a crowded kitchen with little place else to go, I better make the best of the situation.

The conversation continued, but it was clear that some sort of tonal shift had occurred. At one point someone else came by and asked about my sweatshirt, and the woman who asked if I played for them shouted "No he doesn't care for them, he's a traitor!" Now, anyone who knows me realizes I cannot have my fanhood questioned, but they also know I am quite diplomatic, so I sidestep and talk to the person directly and straighten things out. But I am aware that I've entered into some strange zone here with this one girl, who continues to talk to me, oblivious to all awkwardness.


She then tells me that she graduated from the University of Texas--I said, hey, that's great, and you know what, my sister just got accepted there! It's her number one choice, but we'll see about the money that other schools offer. The girl then grabs my shoulder and begins to tell me that hey, I went there with no money, and I'll be paying it off--I'm working and getting only 30,000 a year and living in Manhattan, I CAN DO IT SO CAN SHE! SHE NEEDS TO GO TO UT! She is very insistent on this point, and sure as shit she will not take "no" for an answer. At this point I tell her, hey, I'm pushing for my sister to go to UT, because if she does, I'm going to crash at her place so I can come to South By Southwest, which is only one of the most awesome events to go to if you love music. Back when I was working in radio, I had the opportunity to have my expenses paid for on a trip and get passes to all the shows, but it didn't match up with my schedule, and I've always regretted passing up the opportunity. I was then informed by this girl that she hated this festival--"I can understand going to see a show for a band you know, but to see band you don't even know..." I then mention how I worked at a radio station, and it was my job to listen to new music and she interjected I DON'T UNDERSTAND. THAT'S JUST TERRIBLE! WHY WOULD YOU DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT? Needless to say, I kept smiling but not saying much after that.

Well, sucks to be you, lady who works in fashion for only 30,000 a year--I could have introduced you to Mr. Zhuang, who works for a fashion magazine. As it is...no dice.

Your Unasked For Blazer Report

It's been a strange season for Blazer fans, one where it doesn't matter who the opponent is, any night can bring a thrilling video or devastating defeat, or just a serious injury to one of our star players. The Blazers have never been a team that made it easy on their fans, so we shouldn't have expected it any other way. But this year certainly has been stranger than most.

This year we've seen the following players lose significant time to injury: Travis Outlaw (broken foot), Rudy Fernandez (bad back), Joel Przybilla (broken kneecap), Jeff Pendergraph (bad hip), Steve Blake (pneumonia), LaMarcus Aldridge (sprained ankle), Greg Oden (broken kneecap), and now our star Brandon Roy has missed a significant amount of time with a hamstring injury. I'm probably forgetting some people. Hell, even our coach tore his Achilles tendon in practice, and for good measure, our owner now has cancer. You would think that the injury curse would end with the whole cancer thing, but no, that was in December and we had several more injuries since then. Even after going through all that, the Blazers still are set for a playoff spot in the ultra-competitive Western Conference. I think any fan is thrilled with this, with the only drawback being that the bastards from Oklahoma City are ahead of the Blazers right now.


Things began to turn the night Greg Oden was injured. Mr. Zhuang and I were out having a nice relaxing drink, when I received a text from a friend telling me that not only was Oden injured, he was going to be out for the year. We must have looked like a car just ran over our dog, because the bartender notices our "someone shat in our cereal" look, and gives us free drinks when we tell him the news. Cynics and fans who don't pay attention may ask, "What did you expect, Oden is Mr. Glass?" but these are the same people who hadn't watched him develop over the past two seasons like we had. This year, Oden was making a leap and was showing flashes of becoming the dominant center that we had hoped for when we drafted him, commanding the middle and being the one consistent player we had in the beginning of the season, and then in an instant it was gone.

It was all the more painful when you consider how Oden and Portland are made for each other. They're each slightly goofy and more than a little awkward, and have great senses of humor (I mean, Oden's dog's name is "Charles Barkley McLovin"). The first thing he said when he was injured was "I'm sorry" to his teammates; this was a man whose patella had just been dislocated and was somewhere down his shin at this point. And as soon as they took him to the training room, he was asking for updated scores to the game. With another serious injury, critics will again have ammunition for their "Should have picked Kevin Durant" argument, especially considering his explosive scoring average and the great record that Oklahoma City has these days. Of course, these people fail to consider the difference in development that Durant would have as a third option on the Blazers versus the number one guy on a crappy team for a couple of years; those who are also quick to doubt Oden also fail to realize that Oden is only 21, and he will get more used to his body as the years go by--he has not begun to reach his ceiling. But instead of another year of great development, we're left with questions about his johnson instead.


But the Blazers never threw in the towel, and each night it's been a different player stepping up, from the ever-developing Martell Webster to the ageleass Juwan Howard (who must have found a time machine back to 1995). Perhaps the biggest surprise has been Andre Miller, who I thought was a terrible signing and a poor fit for this team, but who has on occasion lifted the team up on his shoulders and carried them. But you get the feeling that this team is the equivalent of a car held together by duct tape, and that's probably why it made sense for the Blazers to make a trade this week.

However, the trade while it made sense to most outsiders, just doesn't feel completely right to me. When you're relying on Juwan Howard to play the center position for over thirty minutes a game, it's probably not a recipe for playoff success. So it's understandable that we would want to target someone like Marcus Camby, who is one of the league leaders in rebounding, and give up fan favorites Steve Blake and Travis Outlaw in the process. But if you look at the stats, interior defense was not where we were lacking; we weren't even a bad defensive team! In fact, we were number three in points allowed, and tops in the Western Conference; and while we were not getting that many rebounds, we were still out-rebounding the other time. No, if you watched our games, our problem was more with failure to rotate from the perimeter and a total absence of a crunch-time offensive game. That's where guys like Blake and Outlaw are helpful--Steve hits the spot-up 3, and Outlaw has the balls to get to the hoop in the 4th. We'll see if this move ends up paying off, but I have my doubts.

Bill Simmons joked that Blazer fans are like those soccer parents who get obsessed with their little kid, the kind that are hypersensitive to any criticism and irrationally attached to everything they do. I'll certainly agree with this to an extent--we certainly do have our irrational attachments, and tend to overvalue our players more than necessary. That's why you'll find fans of Steve Blake and Travis Outlaw all around Portland, and we coddle Greg Oden. However, we're still realistic, and we will call out our players when necessary--we want LaMarcus to step up in the fourth quarter, and when Brandon Roy was whining at the beginning of the season, we weren't afraid to let him hear it.

But for now, we'll relax and take that 8th seed in the playoffs. And we'll continue enjoying the commentary of Barrett and Rice, like this memorable exchange:

Mike Barrett: So we'll stay the extra night in Minnesota. Who would want to get into New Orleans at 2 am?
Mike Rice: Do I really have to explain it to you?

Hump Day Helper: Double Entendre Edition

Because it's Wednesday, and we all need a pick-me-up to make it through the rest of the week in our respective hells, WDR is providing some fun.



I know it's a little late for Valentine's Day, but I figure you'll forgive me, and have yourself a funky sexy time on a Wednesday night (putting new meaning into "hump day", if you will).

This video is just more proof that Isaac Hayes was probably the coolest motherfucker in the universe. Who cares if he's reading the lyrics off a sheet? (Is he just acting like he's reading a recipe?) Does it matter?

And if someone wants to actually give the recipe a go, I'm more than willing to hear the results.

They're packed full of vitamins and good for you
So suck on my balls...

It's A Celebration

One can only imagine the beautiful chaos that is New Orleans today. With Mardi Gras the week after a Super Bowl VICTORY, I'm sure it's been a non-stop party for my fellow Louisianians. And here I am, stuck on this miserable coast.

But at the very least I can be there in spirit. Many of you may remember my extensive journals from the last time I was back home for Mardi Gras, but my recaps failed to include a vitally important Mardi Gras tradition, that of the King Cake. And luckily, thanks to my family, I'm able to partake in the King Cake tradition once again.



I was talking to one of my law school buddies who went to Tulane, and he was telling me how he didn't much care for King Cake. I was shocked and appalled, and after careful inquiry, I realized the reason why--he had only had the crappy version that you get at the local grocery store. He had not had the experience of getting a fresh cake from a bakery, where they take special pride in this dessert. Growing up, during the Mardi Gras season, I looked forward to getting the weekly treat that one of my classmates would bring in, indulging in the icing and cream cheese and cinnamon and strawberry, always hoping to find the little plastic Baby Jesus, the most glorious of all the forms of Jesus, and looking to be King for a Day.



Thank God I'm still not living down there, because I'd be an even greater fatass than I am now. I got the cake on Friday, and after a few days of eating moderate slices with Mr. Zhuang, we were left with nearly half a cake and staleness looming large; we bit the bullet today and ate the rest of the cake, letting Fat Tuesday live up to its name. So how was your Tuesday?

Even My Fantasy Life Sucks

Recently, Mr. Zhuang and I were watching the Blazers take on the Celtics in a great back-and-forth game, that we unfortunately lost in overtime as the ageless Ray Allen, who after missing nearly everything that night, hit a clutch three-pointer. We spent a good deal of time cracking jokes about Celtics announcer Tommy Heinsohn and his bestowing of "Tommy Points"--GIVE 'IM A TOMMY POINT! Between the jokes, at some point I began to wonder about the status of my FutureWife and whether she was still cheering for the Celtics.


This started a couple of years ago, after reading a piece on Deadspin where they announced that the Celtics for the first time in their history were hiring a dance team (news that probably killed Red Auerbach). So they put a link up so we could take a look for ourselves and make obscene comments for the most part. Given that these women came from Boston, the chances that any of the dancers would be attractive were minimal. Don't let anyone try to convince you that hey, Boston is a college town, they must have some cute girls--this is bullshit. Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Models who happen to go to Harvard are definitely the exception, not the rule.

So I was pleasantly surprised to see this one girl who caught my eye; then I read her biography, and knew I had found my FutureWife. She was essentially a perfect match (well, in everything but looks, but that's understandable). She was Greek for one, which is always a plus, and wants to live in the Greek isles. Her dream is to work for the United Nations or an embassy--perfect for an International Relations major like me, and I even worked an embassy myself. So she's not just an empty head. And finally, here's the capper: her favorite band is Pearl Jam (I'll look past the show tunes part because this definitely balances that out--plus I've been known to burst out into "76 Trombones" randomly). Hello, Alexis.

So after the game was over, I search online to see if she's still cheering for the Celtics. Apparently she's no longer doing that, so I don't have to worry about her cheering against my Blazers. However, I did come across something much more unpleasant: a wedding registry. Apparently my Alexis is marrying a NotMe this May. I quickly asked friend of the blog Von Bookman to begin plans for a daring operation to break up the wedding, but he said "I've got finals in May". I tried to say he could squeeze this in, and hey, I had finals too, but I began to realize that this probably wasn't a great idea. Plus, you know, I should just be happy that my FutureWife has found her own happiness. And you never know, there may still be time for me to become FutureSecondHusband.

Cue sad, mournful song of unrequited love:


As for the real life, can't say the situation is any better. It's not like I come into Valentine's Day with any expectations; the most memorable thing about the holiday is that back in my DJ days I always had a shift on the day, even though I changed slots each year. So it's usually no big deal. But then again, when you hear things from The Girl that her plans for the holiday last year were a quick dinner with her boyfriend, and then get home early enough so she can catch the Dunk Contest, it stings a little bit. Goddammit.

So I continue to search, hopefully finding that someone. She'll relax to the grooves of Spoon, analyze the lyrics of Wolf Parade, dance with me to My Morning Jacket, tolerate my Pearl Jam fanaticism and my Mike McCready obsession, admire the majesty of Sigur Rós, marvel at the musical genius of Television, and rock out to the MC5 and The Thermals. Oh yeah, and being into music would probably be a good idea. When you find her, give me a call. Meanwhile, I see a bottle of ouzo with my name on it. Cheers.

The Doctor Is In

You might not think "hilarious" when I say the name "Alan Thicke", but after watching this video you might change your mind. Sure, we remember him from being the dad from that shitty early '90s sitcom "Growing Pains", but did you know he's also a composer? He did the theme music for "Diff'rent Strokes"! He also wrote for Richard Pryor! Lately it seems like he just wants to fuck around and have fun, showing up on things like "Tim and Eric" or "The Goods". He recently did an interview with the AVClub, providing us with the priceless quote "There’s nothing to do after that. That’s right. You can’t top it. It’s over. When it’s raining dildos, you’ve got nothing left to say after that." But the reason for the post is for more people to watch his hilarious fake-doctor routine as Doctor Proctor. There are five videos, and I recommend you watch them all.



This reminds me of another Dad from an early-90's sitcom, Patrick Duffy. While he may be more well known these days as one of the legs of Scuzzlebutt, there was a time when he was sleepwalking through one of those generic Dad roles in "Step by Step". I remember not liking him too much, but these days I respect him more because I'm pretty sure he realized how terrible the show was, and was only going to do a half-assed job. Anyways, he's had a series of amusing videos with a crab (I know, wtf), earning even more good will from me.

For comparison's sake:


Enjoy the weekend!

Hump Day Helper: Blizzard '10 Edition

Because it's Wednesday, and we all need a pick-me-up to make it through the rest of the week in our respective hells, WDR is providing some fun.



Today saw winter hit the East Coast in earnest, as NYC got a whole...seven inches of snow. Sure, the snowfall wasn't all that much, but trust me, there were like two hours where you didn't want to walk outside because, ohmigod, snow would get in your face, and that's all icky. All that snowfall didn't stop me from getting some exercise--sure the gym closed early, but I still was able to fit in a "jog". I even had a chance to indulge in my passion for blurry photography, and was even able to get some good shots in, like this one.

During all this I had Ra Ra Riot's The Rhumb Line playing on my iPod. I initially left that album off my best of '08 list, because I had listened to it only a few times before making the list. However, if I was given the chance to redo everything it would now easily make my top 5. The reason I chose the album (besides the fact that it's awesome) is that I remembered this video, which takes place in the dead of winter, at a house that reminds me of my time at Dartmouth Hall.

So there ya go, an apropos winter video. Plus the chick who plays the cello is totally hot.

What am I supposed to do
It's hard to stay cool
When you smile at me
And I get nervous every time you speak...

Yes I'm Still Alive and No I Still Can't Believe It

On Sunday, the unthinkable happened. The Saints won the goddamn Super Bowl. And boy howdy, did they do it in style, with a thrilling come-from-behind victory and shocking the world. As you can tell from previous posts, I'm a big fan of the Saints, so Sunday night was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. People from all over the country were calling and texting me their congratulations, and I was getting hugs from everybody at my friend's party. I had one text from a friend that said he was with someone from New Orleans, and she was crying because she was so happy. And as I watched team celebrate on the field, I responded "I'm right there with her."

As a fan, I've been pretty lucky. I've been a fan of the Florida Marlins for their entire existence, and having them win two World Series was pretty impressive. And I'm a bigger LSU fan than a Saints fan, so their national championships in 2003 and 2007 were as good as it got for me. However, nothing compares to the sheer joy I felt as I jumped up and cheered as Tracy Porter snagged that interception and ran it back for that exclamation point touchdown. I've won competitions, have had teams I've competed with win championships, but there is still nothing that will top that moment.



And I've been contemplating the full meaning of that. Do sports have that much of a commanding influence on my life? Definitely not, since I can go weeks without checking the sports pages; music is definitely a bigger addiction. I think it's definitely the culmination of just years of frustration finally being let go in a single moment--it's a feeling that Yankees fans will never understand. To be with a team when they're at their lowest lows makes being on top infinitely sweeter. Look, I've experienced many disappointments in my life--next Sunday will be a continuation of that in one respect--and I wouldn't put a sporting event in a top 10, not even the Blazers crushing 2000 loss to the Lakers, but I'm comfortable with having this victory be in my top 5 high points. This is probably a healthy attitude.

One of my friends commented "I am very disappointed that your profile doesn't have a picture of you wearing a Saints flag like a toga and getting drunk as fuck. 'cause that would be a pretty sweet picture." Fair statement, but in my defense no one had the foresight to bring a camera for the festivities, and you'll just have to rely on the word of my cohorts that I indeed lived up to the reputation of a true Louisianian and partied like there was no tomorrow. They'll tell you of my high-fiving and hugging, the shouting, the dancing, and the clutching of tequila bottles. Of course, being a proud Greek Cajun, I more than held my liquor despite imbibing copious amounts of devilish spirits, and showed up to class the next day as normal, with a mild grin replacing my usual half-frown and only the faintest whiff of alcohol clinging to my Saints sweatshirt. Plus, I'm still looking for a job, so pics might not be the best idea.

People are trying to comprehend how much the victory means to the city of New Orleans, but this is a fool's errand. Everybody points to Katrina and its effects on the city, and it's certainly being felt. I can't imagine how it is day-to-day for most of these people, having left the state long before the hurricane came. I had limited personal exposure, with my godbrothers' homes being flooded and seeing the flow of people move into Baton Rouge. But the thing about the Saints is that they were something that united all Louisianians, and to an extent the entire Gulf Coast region. For the longest time they were the only professional sports team in the region, in an area where Football is King. Rich and poor, black and white, we all loved the team. It might seem stupid to some people, who cares about those buzzkills. Watch this video and tell me you aren't moved:

Saints Superbowl Victory Celebration from Cottage Films on Vimeo.

We won. I still can't believe it.

WDR's Superbowl Celebration!

Watching it NOT for the commercials.

As you are aware (unless you've been living under a rock without TV for the last forty years) the Superbowl is this Sunday. This year features the Indianapolis Colts v. the New Orleans Saints.

So, what is WDR doing to celebrate? Well, I'm pretty sure that Nic and I are going to round up some beer and Cheez Doodles and yell at the television. Joe, I'm sure, will do something that has nothing to do with football, but may involve Cheez Doodles (or some variant) and vodka. We wish him the best of luck with that.

As you may know, Nic is a Saints fan and, as such, is actually emotionally invested in the outcome of this game. I'm sure he'll elaborate on this soon.For me, I'd like to see the Saints win just as an underdog. Most of all, though, I want it to be a good game.

Now, it seems that everyone has a prediction about who will win and why. I'm not going to do that here. Instead, I'm going to share the best predictor I have found for the Superbowl winner: Tecmo Bowl.

That's right, the regular Nintendo football game has been calibrated to play out the Superbowl with the current Colts and Saints players. Someone seems to do one of these every year and every year they have predicted the winner accurately (that I have seen). The scores usually aren't even close to right, but the outcome always is. What do we have this year? YOU'LL JUST HAVE TO WATCH TO FIND OUT!


Tecmo Super Bowl XLIV from Alex Quigley on Vimeo.

I just like this because the game itself is THE BEST FOOTBALL VIDEO GAME EVER. Some will complain that the graphics suck, but that's minor. And have you noticed that anytime someone goes for punt or field goal that it is much more exciting than watching the event in real life? They make it look like the craziest shit is about to go down. The field goals are so long that you can actually SEE THE CURVATURE OF THE EARTH. If that's not awesome, I don't know what is.

Well, enjoy your Superbowl, everyone!

Hump Day Helper: Attempting to Go Viral

Because it's Wednesday, and we all need a pick-me-up to make it through the rest of the week in our respective hells, WDR is providing some fun.

OK Go - This Too Shall Pass from OK Go on Vimeo.

I've never been a big fan of OK GO, but I've never disliked them either. They've always had some catchy songs, and I didn't mind it that my radio station had a real boner for them. Plus, they were one of the few bands that still appreciated the possibilities of the music video, and for that I'm grateful.

So it was no surprise that the band came up with nifty idea for their latest single. Sure, there have been a lot of terrible music that has incorporated elements of marching band in them (I'm looking at you, Missy Elliott and Gwen Stefani), and God knows why--I was in marching band for four years, and it was some of the most awful shit ever. But somehow OK GO converts their song into marching music, and makes it work. And it doesn't hurt to see clarinets popping up from hiding in camo.

Let your inner band-geek freak flag fly, and take a look.

Is it really all that much to lug around
Better run like hell when you hit the ground...

If Only I Could Have One Of These In New York

After walking the streets of New York everyday for about 18 months now, I realize how much a pain in the ass dogs can be. Sure, for their owners it can be maddening as they don't just shut the fuck up or have to be brought outside to tinkle every 4 hours, even in the bitter-ass cold. No, it's also the fact that everyone else has to deal with these dogs on a constant basis. While it's been my experience that most of these dogs that I encounter don't jump on you when you're walking around, that doesn't mean all that much--I still have to put up with all these dogs' shit. Literally.

Sometimes it makes me wish I could have brought Rambo up here with me. Or maybe go about this another way, and get myself a new pet, like this guy in Poland:


Watch CBS News Videos Online

I'm just imagining the possibilities of walking down the street with a lion. It's as cute as a cat, plus you get the added bonus of maulings! It's an unbeatable combination! And maybe a visit from Lafcadio here would convince some of these assholes to pick up their dogs' shit.