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Archive for July, 2009

Leave your socks at home. Seriously, if you are gonna have some street cred, I better be able to see your ankles from March to October (if you live in California). I’m not too hot on toes. You can wear flip-flops if you must, but think about a few more substantial alternatives if you are thinking of picking up a new pair of kicks. (Toms, Sperry Topsiders, Vans, Vintage dress shoes, Plimsoles)
This guy can beat you in chess... and in boat racing.

Think short(er). Come on guys, don’t be afraid of a little thigh. I’m not. And neither are the best potential relationship partners. Now I’m not guaranteeing a mate based on your 8-inch inseam, but I am saying you will be ready for the hott (two t’s). What do I mean by hott (two t’s)? Well, for one, summer can really get your upper-inners down if you aren’t careful. Let those babies breath deeply in the warm and long days. Also, a nicely tanned thigh (or two) will really increase your sexy-sexy appeal by (at least) two-fold. The confidence that is evident by a little guy-thigh, is enough to turn the most fashionable of heads. If those thighs are a nice shade of golden-brown, then you will likely warrant a double look… from everyone. Nothing is hotter.
This guy has vibe

Along the same lines as ‘think short(er)’ is the next bit of advice: think short(er). If you are wearing long pants (jeans, slacks, etc.) don’t be afraid to give them a roll, show some ankle. Even go permanent and hem them. (Yes, that means using a needle and some thread.) Instead of throwing your jacket over a puddle to show how gentlemanly you can be, just walk on through! Pants are safe, your ‘rep’ is intact and people will follow you anywhere (especially through puddles of manageable sizes).
This guy's bike could beat up your bike.

Photos from The Sartorialist

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2009 is full of good music. No, not the new Regina. She broke my heart into little pieces every (damn) time the drum machine came in.

I have been a huge fan of several albums this year.

One of my faves (yes, faves) has been Phoenix’s newest Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix.

How can you not absolutely looooove an album with that title? (Not rhetorical)

I’ve found this album nice on summer days when the mood is right, the sun bright. It has good drivability, singability and some decent danceability. Plus, they’re French. The sound is not exclusively summer-feeling (you know what I mean), but when lead singer, Thomas Mars, croons:

It’s 20 seconds to the last call, going “hey hey hey hey hey hey hey”

Lie down, you know it’s easy, like we did it all summer long

And I’ll be anything you ask and more, going “hey hey hey hey hey hey hey”

You’d think you were rolling down Interstate 10 on your way to new places to sweat through the late summer months.

Love Like A Sunset is nearly 8 minutes of build and releases into a meditation on horizons and sunsets, beginnings and endings, love and loss. Beautiful.

Lisztomania is the most recognizable and probably my favorite. Pop freaking goodness. Sprinkling nearly heartsick lyrics like “romantic not disgusting yet”, “this love’s for gentlemen only” and “we’ll burn pictures instead” over incredibly optimistic, driving drums and light-hearted guitar. Mars’ voice, smart and mature, encourages us to “think less, but see it grow. Like a  riot, like a riot, oh!”

Phoenix totally kicking ass on SNL.

I will likely be writing about music fairly often. And, I don’t think good music is dead. I don’t think technology, MTV and hip hop killed it. In fact, these things are helping to push the industry and artists in new directions. Since music is not looking for a ressurection, I think it’s safe to agree with Phoenix and sing: It’s not a miracle we needed, and no I wouldn’t let you think so…

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Drove by a sign on the highway yesterday that was advertising the “First Annual Tea Party.” Wasn’t there one many years ago? It seems like there must have been otherwise I’m having a hard time understanding the significance of middle-aged rednecks (the sign was hung on the self-proclaimed “Redneck Trailer Store”, I’m not making this stuff up) getting together to buy teabags and then throw them at each other (or whatever it is that they are doing). Our education system failed years ago.

I also caught up with an old friend, whom I love. His family shoots guns on Christmas to celebrate Baby Jesus in a Manger. This is nice and all, but I’m unsure of my gunmanship, excuse me gunpersonship, and shouldn’t go for fear of being mocked and forced to hang out with the women in a sort of gender purgatory saved for those unclear of their special man-ability to shoot guns at things.

Just saw a man ride by on a tandem bicycle with the back seat empty. Now, I want to run after him and trade him for my normal bicycle because Nikki and I would be totally bitching riding around Fresno on that thing. It hurts to see such unintentional bitchingness go unused.

I don’t know of anyone in the world as hip as me who has not read that Dave Eggers book (except my friend Everett because he doesn’t read that much but is way more hip than me, but he probably has read it because he is way more hip than me). You know the one. Seriously, other than Harry Potter’s wizarding ways, I’m pretty sure that A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius has been read by more young 20-somethings than any other book this century. But, Michael Jackson’s memoir is scheduled to hit stores this Fall, so Dave should enjoy it while he can. We are Generation Thriller.

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