- Take me to the fair too early — it should be dark when we go home! With fireworks and awesome!
- Have no agenda at the fair — I have no respect for people with no state fair agenda.
- Walk slowly — fortunately once Stan knows where he is going he moves like a New York cab driver. People nearly died. It was awesome
- Surprise me with my dad’s evil shrew demon wife before I have had even one delicious corn dog or for that matter any batter dipped deep fat fried goodness. Oh, hey, it’s you! I have to make a special trip to go… eat something available every ten feet around here. I’m really hungry, so I might run. You can’t just spring these things on me.
I got my fucking corn dog. It was fucking delicious.
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No, they don’t serve pizza by the slice. :(
zach: Christy, who also lives in Whittier as of tomorrow, was very excited that you were taking pictures: “Wow, so we’re actually doing this Whittier blog thing!”
So, yeah, round one was a success, and I feel as though I know Eat Street and Lyndale a little better. Nicollet deserves a solo run or two, I think, with no other streets to distract from all its delicious glory. Zach promised some backup for the more in-depth parts of the work, like interviewing people. I’m shy! I can’t just walk up to people and be all “hey, tell me your awesomeness!” Actually, I can, but I have to want to.
If you want your neighborhood photographed, you just have to supply me with a spotter to walk with me so people can’t sneak up behind me with a brick. Good conversation is a plus. Must like long walks, good beer, indie rock, and listening to me babble. Must supply own comfortable shoes.
I want to photograph the length of Hennepin. End to end it’s like seven miles. That’s about twice as far as I went today, so it would likely take about eight hours with breaks and long pauses to photograph white castle boxes. It’s what you crave.
But what is my neighborhood? I live in Waite Park, but Audobon feels more like home with the shops and stuff. Maybe I should go back to Southeast Como. I think it needs a nickname, like “Southeasy.” Yes, I thought of that after making a typo, but imagine the “Big Easy” style festivals! Mardi Gras in Minneapolis! Jazz bands! Drunken partying! Parades! Delicious food!
Speaking of delicious food, tomorrow is the fair with the Keathlys! Plus, if I’m very good, I might get to see that rollerderby business. Beefy women in fishnets punching the crap out of eachother on skates! How can I lose?
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Time to start the Whittier project, because my neighborhood isn’t good enough. I’ll be on Lyndale if you need me — possibly on Nicollet if I don’t get too wiped out or mugged.
I’m just kidding about my neighborhood, I love my first ring suburb.
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I should be at a party right now, but some of us took a nap on the couch that bookended dinner.
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Oh yeah, I don’t like my second adopted hometown, after Stillwater and my real hometown of Fort Dodge. Okay, it’s not like I actively dislike Saint Paul, but I don’t miss it at all. I think that what I miss is what I came to Minnesota for: a big, drafty house with a thousand crazy friends crashing on the couch. So Minneapolis passed the smoking ban right about the time that
I woke up from my life like it was all just a bad dream.
Thanks, Firewater, but you’re getting ahead of me. I’ve seen a handful of shows this summer, but they have all been in Mpls., so thusly, no smoking. I’ve been out to the bars, too, but again, no smoking. I even went to New York, where I spent about 1/3 of my time (or more) stunt drinking in bars. Still, no smoking.
Mother fucking nasty. Why did I ever smoke a pack a day? What possessed me to pick up a cigarette, put it in my mouth, and make out with it like it was the last girlfriend that I would have for four years? Saint Paul needs to clear the smoking out of bars so my lungs can stay pink and beautiful.
STNNNG was just as I expected: loud, fast, and intricate, with a splash of crazed, out of control insanity over the top. The real shocker was Gay Beast, who ripped the air to shreds with their power trio of keyboard, guitar, and drums. Did I say drums without capitalizing it? DRUMS! WOW! I think on the second song the drummer (Angela? Shit, I’m terrible with names, but you know that) took a few seconds to sync up with the keys, but every other impact of her drumsticks and beater left a ringing impression on the rock center of my brain. The whole effect was as if robots had been programmed to rock, but got a virus, broke free of their masters, and decided to produce pure chaos through a mathematical formula. Two for the pink, one for rocking my ass!
After that was Lone Wolf, who basically turned his amp up to eleven and then gestured to the sound guy to bring up the house PA. It was a bit like the beginning of Back to the Future where Marty turns all the knobs up, strikes one chord and blows himself straight across the room and into the wall, except that this dude had pounded giant nails through his feet into the floor. He looked a lot like Glenn Danzig in Aqua Teen Hunger Force.
Danzig: Can we get the blood to flow up the walls?
Cybernetic Ghost: I dont see why not.
The part of seeing a local band in a dive bar that I love is that I was able to accost the singer from STNNNNNNNNNNNNG and tell him how much the band rocked. Later, during the next three hour break between bands, the drummer from Gay Beast sidled up to the bar next to me and I accosted her too. Then, after I ran out of small talk I got a chance to start fresh since the keyboardist (Danimal) and guitarist (Isaac) slid in next to me seeking liquid refreshment. The whole band wanted to know my name, even though I’m just a random dude in a bar telling them that I wasn’t sure what to expect before having my pants rocked to my knees while I stood there with my mouth agape.
I don’t know if I could recommend anything that I saw to anyone else unless they are big fans of crazy. I sure am, so yeah, I had an awesome time, but I left early because the smoke was making my head spin. Also, I’m old.
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The Google Summer of Code is winding down, which means that (like any software project) activity is ramping up. Ross has a nearly complete theme together, and I’ve given him a partial review. I’m partway through review number two.
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Hooray, I called in on a random “K!” and got “on the list” at Big V’s tomorrow.
Doors at 9pm.
I have no idea who any of these bands are. Hilarity will ensue!
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That’s it. I’m supposed to be doing a code review and/or writing an novella about the craziness of New York, but all that I have wanted to do since I got home was lie down in bed and sleep. I don’t even want to pick out highlight photos (like me holding Beckett aloft, or having my arm around the cute waitress).
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