Enter the Hexagon

404′ed! The Soft Rocks
Awesome! Redstart
Rock! Dallas Orbiter

What a great night of rock. Stan was salivating over the Wrens concert, but I went to the Dallas Orbiter show, which was the second D O night in a row. All I said about the Friday show was that Orchestra Hall doesn’t have any bass, but that spacy feeling that was washing over me wasn’t just the Nut Brown Ale. Apparently the monitors were lacking and the plexiglass in front of Greg was keeping anyone from hearing him. That spacy feeling was the band all kind of doing their own thing simultaneously. Tonight was tight and loopy.

Here’s the set list:
Sweet Home Alabama (cover)
Sweet Home Alabama (cover)
Sweet Home Alabama (original)
Back in Black (cover)
et cetera

There was a Mountain Goats cover in there, a Wire cover, that other song that they do that I love that I can’t remember the name of (although it was very likely the first Sweet Home Alabama). When I left I was two CDs heavier. I had been so thoroughly rocked out that there was no rocking left in me.

Greg still hasn’t posted the pictures that I took at the Kitty Cat Klub. Everyone was raving, and I haven’t even gotten to see them.

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Dear readers

What a strange day. My date from last night called to get a raincheck for today’s proposed date at the Walker — exactly when I had the cell phone in my hand with her number highlighted so I could call to cancel. She called me “James” by mistake.

As you are probably aware, my drunken ramblings from last night had unexpected results. I don’t know whether to be ecstatic or afraid of the upcoming restraining order.

I was juicing limes like crazy until I found out that margaritas should be made like this:

  • 2 ounces tequila
  • 1 1/3 ounce Cointreau
  • 2/3 ounce lime juice

I substituted triple sec for cointreau, because that was what I saw in a another recipe. This is my new hot weather drink, hands down. Also face down, if I were to have a couple, because WOW. That’s a lotta hooch!

Wherever you are tonight I hope you have a wonderful night. I’m just this guy, and I will keep writing for your amusement. All of you.

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Dear Google

I appear to be on page five of the results for “Jesse Mullan”. If you are going to index my web site infinite times each day, please put me back to number one.


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Top Five Heartbreaks

Lest anyone get too big of a head about how pretty and smart they are, here are my top five heartbreaks:

  1. Here’s my new Seattle address.
  2. I didn’t know think you were like that.
  3. Did you think that I would never find out?
  4. I don’t know where you are either, is there a street sign near you?
  5. I think I’m a lesbian.

Some explanations, in order:

  1. She moved. You might have known her.
  2. I was 19 and had a two night stand that my then recent ex found out about it and decided not to suggest that we get back together. I didn’t know that I was like that either.
  3. When your best friend likes someone, don’t date that person on the sly. Your friendship will probably never recover. The relationship that you had on the sly will probably also fall apart. I didn’t know that I was like that either.
  4. Don’t drink to forget someone who is sitting across the table from you, and don’t call them for directions. I probably shouldn’t include this one because it was mostly stress-related, but whatever, it’s a funny story.
  5. This is actually an amalgam of two or three heartbreaks — maybe more. One of them wasn’t out when I was interested, but she was out when I googled her thirteen years later.

Now, honestly, give me like a couple of hours to get some nutritious alcohol into my system, then you’ll get a real response.

Honorable mentions:

  • Jim Henson
  • Phil Hartman
  • Douglas Adams
  • My favorite DJ
  • My red car

Don’t ask me to list all the hearts that I have broken. I might as well stab myself in the nuts, thanks.

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Summer Love

As long as I am rambling uncontrollably, this is the vague schedule for the upcoming weekends:

July 16th: Dallas Orbiter
July 23rd: Wedding (photographing and attending)
July 30th: open
August 6th: Paulapalooza (drinking)
August 13th: My 30th birthday (on the 14th) (drinking)
August 20th: NYC! (drinking)
August 27th: Rehab (drinking)
September 3rd: Labor Day (brats)


I’m trying to think of a good Grease joke, but you will just have to make your own, because when I think of Grease all I can picture is John Travolta’s creepy grin, and then Karate Kid was all burned and he was a hero, but he was just a greaser, and… wait a minute. I’m confused.

If you want to assemble the Grease joke that I had in mind, alcohol is Danny Zuko and I am Sandy Olsson. Your final product should include singing, or it doesn’t count. Go!

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Since we’re out of tequila

The avacados are ready. The tomatoes are ready. The onions are ready. The cilantro is ready. There will be guac, and it will be delicious.

I’m about to go get some tequila, triple sec, and a bag full of limes. Tonight is margarita night, MFs!

I will likely also pick up a can of NA margarita mix so Noah can join in the fun. I think that is technically just “Lime-Aid.”

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Google Pedometer

Google Pedometer (gmaps pedometer)

For all your “how long is the drunken stagger home from the bar” needs.

In NYC I rode the subway directly home from drinking.

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So… seriously, how was it?

jessepmullan: so I went on a date with a woman from the personals tonight. we had set up the whole walker thing and all, but I mentioned in an email that I was doing a dallas orbiter double header, and she was all “I love dallas orbiter” and I was all “let’s go! awesome!” and then when I was on the way downtown we talked on the phone and she was all “I met greg [the drummer] through the personals!” and I was all “whaaaaaaaaa?”
jessepmullan: hilarity ensued
jessepmullan: shit, I have to put my sheets in the dryer

I measured it. It was only had three ounces of tequila. It was just enough to mess up my typing, but not enough that I can’t retrieve the misplaced keys.

If I put on some semblance of pyjamamamas I can just go sleep on the couch downstairs with the Crazy Quilt and thadaklhsd a;sdfasdfasd
fa sdfasdfa;sldk

There’s AC downstairs. It’s hot up here.

Okay, so a little while later I’m a little more sober again, and the honest answer is that I don’t think that she and I clicked very well. Also, I was thinking about someone else for the twenty minutes that I waited in Brits because I wanted that particular reader to show up instead. Great, now I’ve said too much. Maybe I’m not very sober at all.

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So, how did it go?

Things that were lacking tonight:

  1. Orchestra Hall apparently does not have bass bins. There was no bass in the show. No bass drum. No bass guitar.
  2. Orchestra Hall apparently does not have hard alcohol
  3. Orchestra Hall apparently does not have ANY alcohol

I am going to go pour the rest of the bottle of tequila into the rest of the pitcher of orange juice.

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By me I mean a woman and I

Scratch that — thanks to the magic of the internet, tonight is probable date night — if she gets my message saying yes to her message. I suppose that I should go shave now.

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