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Outdated Concert Review: Wilco Wappinger Falls, NY 7/18/2009

Last night, I joined Killer B, Beerock and Mark (nickname pending approval) for the Wilco show in Dutchess County NY.

The show was great. It was outdoors. The environment was awesome - a light breeze and some clean country air. Wilco was awesome live and went for about 2 hours. Conor Oberst was tight and a great opening act.

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KillerB put the whole event together. 1 Point for him.

Tickets were like $35 dollars but he suggested we spend an extra $25 dollars for some all you can eat BBQ. We needed to quickly deduct 1 point from his score. This was the worst idea ever. Had this concert taken place in Nashville, I am sure it would have featured awesome smoked meat, ribs whatever. But the residents of Dutchess County NY have a severe misunderstanding of what a Summer BBQ is. About 30 seconds in, I noticed there was nothing to put in my hamburger bun. Not only were there no ribs, there was no hamburgers. What kind of half ass BBQ is this?

Conor Oberst was dressed like the love child of Stevie Ray Vaughn and Prince. I approved.

There were lots of families about. Lots of people committing to being cool even while holding a 2 year old in their arms. The kids were into it. Dancing constantly. I can safely say I saw no one cry (except for Beerock during "I Am Trying To Break Your Heart"). Even during the first encore, well after 10, kids were just passed out on the grass - peaceful. Good job kids! Bad job parents.

My favorite mom was a woman who flew in from San Diego from the show. She dragged her 7 year old daughter along, who wore the cutest Wilco Trucker hat.. The mother made note of us after her daughter overheard me expressing concern over the hamburger bun and three pieces of lettuce on her plate. She asked several questions and made a few comments about flying in from San Diego. The tattoos on her arms made me want to do her right there in the open air or possibly back at her hotel room with her daughter locked in the bathroom. These are the thoughts I have.

I had never seen the Big Dipper before but I did last night. Awesome. What kind of ghetto Boy Scout troop was I in?

The Hosecast: Forearms Like Watermelons

Extra Edition! KillerB stops by to tell us all about the Galapagos pictures you did not see!

Listen to the whole discussion here.

Subscribe via iTunes here

Galapagos - in your face fantastic!

I'm back from the Galapagos now - and have finally managed to string a few pictures together to prove it. The trip was really really great. I have to admit, however, that I was secretly holding out hope that Evil would arrive unannounced and be on the trip with me after all. That didn't happen. But pretty much the rest of the trip was really really great. A slideshow including iguanas, sea lions, frigate birds, sharks, sea turtles, hawks, fish, finches, blue footed boobies and other delights after the jump.

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American Idol Recap - The Wrath fo Girard?!?!?

It's Disco Night! and Ryan welcomes us by reminding us that "THIS....IS AMERICAN IODL". I am so pumped to be covering for KillerB this week I can't stand it, Especially on Disco Night! I am already hoping that Allison sings Barry White's "Ecstasy". I am also hoping Danny does something like the BeeGee's "Inside and Out" because though the disco era was primarily about the boogie in many ways it was also about the inversion of sexual roles. We should never forget that. Also, if anyone should own this week, it's Lil...I'm not saying, I'm just saying.

We'll do some recapping inside the jump
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• Lil Rounds does the best Chaka Khan impression she can dig up. She has fun with it, gets the crowd involved and makes sure everyone sees her amazing ass, seriously that thing is a coffee table. Grabbing at Randy won't help baby. You don't look enough like Ryan. Blah blah blah, no artistry, no sense of self. It's rinse repeat every week between the judges and Lil. Truth be told, I couldn't disagree with their assessment of Lil's skills any more.
• Kris Allen has a guitar slung over his shoulder. I want to hide when Ryan announces Kris will sing "She works hard for the money". Kris admits that he thinks he can do this because its "a story", "about a woman", who "works hard for the money". umm...Ok! Kris validates my lack of confidence by doing a lazy John Meyer impression, it might be a Matt Nathanson impression, which makes it all the more sad. He is totally bailed out on the arrangement by the band, which showcases the timbales and other Caribbean percussion instruments. Kara loves the risk, and calls it a "four on the four" song. Paula fails to make any sense by invoking shopping in the women's department, La Perla (product placement $$) and Santana in one breathe. Simon has no idea what Paula is talking about and likes this better than Lil's performance. Randy wants to take Kris on a date. I'm already regretting this assignment
• Ryan is hiding from Randy up in the rafters when he announces Danny doing "September" by Earth, Wind and Fire. This is my second favorite disco song. I baddy ah baddy ah along to the this inspired brilliance. His background singers are really off key. I wonder if this is an allusion to his dead wife in anyway. Randy likes the song but wants to bang Kris more so his comments are overly technical. Kara's goes to our first "pitch" reference of the night. Her make up is really bad tonight. She simultaneously washed out and shiny. Paula does want to bang Danny. Simon is a little bored by the performance and rightfully points out that Danny has no star power and is a bit clumsy.
• Allison does "Hot Stuff" by Donna Summer. She makes this song her bitch and tramps it up all over the stage. Even though she closely resembles a penguin in a red wig while doing it. Randy calls it over-indulgent but loves her anyway, possibly because she sounds like a dude. Kara uses her fingers too much when critiquing and fails to take any meaningful pro or con position. Paula loses me. Simon qualifies that "taking everything into account it was a brilliant performance". ? What is he taking into account - her stupid hair color or the overstuffed catwoman look?
• Adam's stylist dresses him like Eddie Munster. His pompadour is awesome. Adam does "If I can't have you" from the Saturday Night Fever Soundtrack and his forthcoming puppet/vampire/alt-rock opera, which he makes totally unrecognizable...really...umm... not in a bad way, it was entertaining but maybe not what I was looking for on Disco Night. It was well done, just totally surprising. Randy invokes his first "dawg" of the night then tells Adam he's "ready right now". I suppose he means for a hot beef injection. Kara calls him the guy from Saturday Night Live meets Clark Kent. She is also is inspired. Me too, I finally figured out what freaks me out about Paula as she sobs and gushes over Adam. She looks like my mom in 1984. She accuses him of "tearing out [his] heart and leaving it on the stage". Simon can't contain his laughter. Adam does a classy move and thanks the dude who did his arrangement. Important aside - my mom has always wanted to do John Travolta. It's a fact. She has watched "Staying Alive" maybe a dozen times.Ryan puns his way into a commercial as we cut Matt "The White Man's Justin Timberlake" Girard hoping to "Stay Alive"
• Matt is full Timberlake gear as he Daniel Powters his way through "Staying Alive". I have the suspicion he did not discuss arrangement with the backup singers before the show. Randy "dawgs" his way into the bad stuff - song choice, arrangement and talks up his singing abilities. Kara likes to see him move and harshes a "solid" into his mellow. Paula does the supportive mother bit that I never got from my mom. Simon speaks truth and points out it sucked and actually calls him "desperate". Ryan promises Anoop. Going into the break, we cut to Anoop in a tan suit that would really look good on me this summer on Nantucket. There's a rule against people that goofy being big time pop stars right?
• We pound through some product placement Coca Cola stuff and then listen to Anoop try to Aaron Neville his way through "Dim All The Lights" by Donna Summer. I just about kill myself that was so mediocre. Randy runs to his "everyone can sing and is so talented" damning with faint praise. Kara gets off the treadmill she was running on during the break long enough to mention how much she likes the arrangement, song choice and actually says "this could be on the radio". Seriously, can get this woman some foundation or something, she's sweating all over the place. Paula loves his teeth. F you Mom. Simon grounds us in reality and throws words around like "horrible". Anoops parents are finally into the mix, we see them in the audience pshawing Simon during his comments. Ryan says "Simon doesn't think Anoop is pretty in pink". Do they let him come up with this stuff on his own?

Couple of thoughts going out - did they have to share one Donna Summer album or something? Could no one mix it up a bit?

What about some "Boogie Wonderland", "Brickhouse", "Do you love what you feel?" anything like that?

See ya in hell Anoop and Matt!

Me saying what we are all thinking

me: are you back?
Killer B #1: no. Sunday.
me: rats
Killer B #1: i'm okay with it
me: (to my self and no one else) Maybe I'm not

Wedding Bells

There have be a lot of weddings lately around the Hose Offices. The Mamacita married her favorite robot, and the Killer Bs tied the knot. Congratulations to all involved.

In preparation for one last wedding, Catjjy and I cooked up a list for the pending nuptuals of Sparks sister. It was her task but she asked me for some input. This is not quite what she used but I thought it was fun enough to throw up on the blog...

Evil's Epic Collapse

Hose readers are no strangers to Evil's huge claims on a range of matters from weight loss to Scrabble. Well, turns out we can expect fewer big shot posts from him now. Above you'll see the play-by-play results of our first ever Hose ScrabblePalooza Invitational. After drawing "Z" on the opening rack ("razed" for 34 points) and scoring 79 points on his 4th move ("quoit" - whatever that is) Evil jumped out to a commanding lead. I knew I had a tough road ahead. He clearly was feeling very confident too, as he started 'chatting' with gems such as "jerk", "that's such a gay word", "butthead", "you've got a huge douche coming", "why don't you just forfeit", and "you're so dumb".

I tried not to let these distract me, however, and just kept trying to play good solid scrabble. You can see from the graph that I'm remarkably consistent, while Evil is anything but. Towards the end I made one last push to tighten things up. I played "anthem" (while also getting credit for "dent") for 32 points, but this left me with just 2 tiles, H and E. Evil came back with "bloom" on a triple word score for 21 points (at which point he told me I was gay again). But did I have a move in store! Down 36 points with just two tiles left I created 3 words ("Her", "He", and "Bee"), including 2 on a double word score tile. Final score, KillerB 335, Evil 332.

More Judgement/Noticing via googletalk

(after reading the comment to my recent post of a video from AMC's Madmen)

xTian: Thats from Madmen on AMC, its not that racy

Killer B: F*ng*rb*ng*ng is always racy

xTian: I was shocked this was on AMC. I think its racy because it bordered on assault

Killer B: I'm shocked at your use of the word bordered

Best .500 Team Ever?

After a miserable 3 weeks of consecutive losses, Kicks and Giggles found themselves on the ropes last night, in danger of not even making the playoffs. The top 6 teams in this 12 team league make it in - the rest watch from the sidelines saddled with questions about what could have been.

Would that be our fate? Hell no. The squad came out with fire in their eyes and beer in their bellies. We were playing on Field A, which was a real blessing as all of our losses have come on field B (famous for it's short length in right field). I took over pitching for the 2nd week in a row and did a really really amazing and awesome job. Xtian was MIA this week - some sort of fuzzy "work commitment" - in Brooklyn perhaps? We prevailed nonetheless, including a homerun kicked by Douchebag Dwyer with his opposite foot - some real playground ball there. The final score was 9-5, good enough to earn this 3-3 team a 5th seed in the playoffs next week. We'll need to win 3 consecutive games next Wednesday night to take the title. The stage has been set for one of the greatest NYC sporting stories of the decade - will Kicks and Giggles deliver?

The skid that would not end

When it was over, KillerB was arguing with the Ref (who may in fact be Amy Short, btw, out to get back at KillerB for ignoring her friend request). She had just called the game after 6 innings and with us down by 3 runs, even though officially there were 7 innings in a game. This was after the fourth inning, where she had instituted a mercy rule on us for scoring seven runs in an inning even though we were still losing. Basically, this b*tch was out to get us. Though too much a gentleman to say it, Killer B agrees with me. At one point, it looked to me like KillerB was about to clean her clock.

It would have made no difference. Our third loss in a row was in the books.

Two weeks ago, some tool kicked a ball over a fence and hit a car. The alarm he set off signaling the end of the game and the end of our dream of a perfect season.

Last week, a team short several players due the Fourth of July lost a heartbreaker.

Now this tragedy, a robbery perpetrated by a fat girl who could not be bothered to watch the whole game she was officiating, all the while colluding with an 8 person team of ringers who had only one female, who might have been Brandie Chastain.

Sure some people dropped some balls in the outfield, but we had a lot of people last night and I was too hung over from this to see straight much less catch a freaking ball.

No team has shown so much promise, only to suffer such a let down since the 1974 World Cup Finalist Dutch National Soccer Team. Of course, we all know how that ended.

Onward march the grey and gold, onward we march. One week to go, one more attempt for Playoff glory.

Kicks & Giggles Week 2 - 17-6...Wetter is Better

A chill ran down my back

It could have been sweat or rain, but I knew better. It was fear. A bolt of lightening had just flashed across the sky. I looked over at girl who had no clue. She was wondering what we were doing out there, why no one had called the game.

20 minutes earlier, the rain started, we were standing around waiting to play. The opposing team ran around the block as a warm up. K&G stood around and chain smoked.

Killer B's strategy for the game was simple and inspired
(1) On defense keep everything in front of you. Big plays only happen when you have to turn around and chase a ball
(2) On offense, let's play small ball. Most of these teams don't communicate well, when a ball is in play it looks like 6 year olds playing soccer. No one knows what to do

The d**chebag was pitching, Timothy Stack-alike, Killer B and I were manning the outfield. Everything would be ok.

I spent an inordinate amount of time fraternizing with the other team and later during the game trying to talk to the prettiest girl ever, who plays for the team we wooped up on last week, who was on the other side of the chain linked fence, waiting her turn.

I won't lie. I was scared. The thunderstorm brought out two of my biggest fears.

My fear of lightening - Even as my parents made me walk barefoot in the street and had Dominicans pelt me with baseballs to toughen me up, they built up in me a steady fear of lightening. Whenever there was a thunderstorm we were forced to unplug everything and sit quietly in our dark house, praying it would all subside. My dad periodically talking of this fool or that and how they foolishly died hiding under a tree, trying to stay warm. Now here I was, challenging the Gods in a stupid gold headband. I just wanted to sit in a dark room and cry.

My fear of busting my ass and embarrassing myself - In the second inning our third baseman busted his ass hard rounding second and ruining what would have been a home run. If I had gotten cut, I would have cried like a girl.

I resolved right there that neither would happen.

Of course, on the next play, a ball sailed over my head and i had to bust it to catch up to it, which I did half heartedly.

The next inning, I asked off the field and quietly positioned myself close to PS 142, just in case God decided to strike us down for our insolence.

The rain eventually subsided and I almost stopped sucking...sticking to the small ball plan and scoring a run during a rally when our team actually fell victim to the Mercy Rule, we had scored so many runs. During the rally, Timothy Stack-alike yelled "miss it" as four of our opponents huddled around a pop up. A very intense fellow got in his face for his unsportsmanlike conduct but luckily for all involved Mr. Intense remembered he was a thirty year old playing kick ball and mellowed out

I still sucked a little bit, overplaying a ball in the field that I should have caught easily. Luckily, the Killer B backed me up and as I slid on the wet ground I balled up into the fetal position so Killer B could get the ball back in play.

Killer B was inspired. the guy with the wrestling shoes can't be stopped, not by opposing teams or calls for reasonable base running. Our third baseman proudly showed his scars at the bar afterwards.

I ran into the opposing pitcher in the bathroom. He asked if we practiced. I looked at him confused. He talked about how good we were at communicating and backing each other up on plays. I rushed back and told my teammates.

Our long, slow, rain soaked march to glory continues...

Maine attractions (get it?)

Catjjy and I are ditching The Cha this weekend and heading to Maine for a wedding. He is very broken up about it, but we are excited about seeing the Killer B’s.

In researching establishments to hit while we are there, Killer B 1 came across a topless donut shop. It is actually part of a strip club, but it is open from 6am to 11am. Presumably, you buy the donuts from topless girls. This raises a host of questions.

Toplessness is generally a good thing, when applied to attractive women (like the readers of this blog). Donuts are certainly a good thing. Combining the two just might be brilliant. Consumers have shown a willingness to buy their coffee in an attractive Starbucks coffeeshop, even though the exact same Starbucks brew is available for $1 less at the gas station. Will people pay $1.50/donut at the topless place, versus $0.50/donut at the regular donut store? And if so, do you have the most profitable donut store ever?

Or does the whole thing fall apart when you combine toplessness and food service? Are we all a bit squeamish about half naked people handling our food? And perhaps more importantly, do you lose the interest of your audience when you replace the highly-engineered titillation of a strip club at midnight with the mundane everydayness of an operating donut shop at 7am? Is the same topless girl just as sexy doing a pole dance to throbbing R. Kelly beats as she is, say, sweeping up the area where someone dropped a tray full of bearclaws?

I suspect Catjjy and Killer B 2 will veto an early morning run to this particular donut shop, but we will try to get our friend The Cock to check it out and report back. In the meantime, are there any other business models whose profitability could be greatly enhanced by simply removing the employees’ shirts?

Wooooo

Killer B #1 and Evil, Bon Jovi and Sambora have nothing on them

xTian just wants to thank all his brothers and sisters in Christ for braving the cold rain to sing a few songs with him.

As everyone knows, my birthday is next Sunday but I really wanted to Karaoke. So we did it early.

Now I'd like to list the people in alphabetical order the people who managed to ruin my evening by not showing up...

kidding, kidding

(sort of, now you know why Mamacita is last on the contributers section)

Kicks & Giggles: Week 1 Recap

Killer B is a great coach.

In anticipation of our opening match, the team spent an inordinate amount of time coordinating uniforms. It was agreed that everyone on the team would wear gold American Apparel headbands, wristbands and knee high socks. Someone went and got all the stuff, dumbass that I was, I showed up with the wrong colored socks and felt awkward about it the whole night. We all agreed to be properly hydrated.

Earlier in the day, the coach and I debated how he should distinguish himself from the rest of the team. Killer B committed to carrying a clipboard, to document his decisions and measure his success. We discussed the idea that he should perhaps consider a gold visor rather than a headband or potentially a cowboy hat. I asked if hitting the tanning salon was necessary.

Winning and losing is one thing, but no one will take you seriously if you don't have a proper tan. I could not get to the tanning both, so instead I moisturized like a demon. Just because I'm gray doesn't mean I have to be ashy...

Sock issues aside, I was someone to be taken seriously. I was well moisturized and well hydrated. My headband was positioned in such a way to keep my luxurious hair out of my eyes much like a young girl would. As we amassed at the playground amidst a sea neighborhood kids riding scooters and ballers, you know, ballin, I got worried. Someone asked what the rules of kickball were. Another fellow seemed to be putting on wrestling shoes. One guy looked like Timothy Stack. Even our coach showed up in khakis. Worried...

Killer B quickly put things in order, reading from the clipboard he started diagramming our defensive alignment, showing everyone what to do. He then went over simple base running.

A girl nominated herself to play first base. I walked over and mumbled under my breathe that the first baseman will have a lot of balls thrown at her. She looked at me like I was an ahole. I had confused her for the girl who asked which way to run after she kicked the ball. I felt like a d**che. I also noticed this girl was rather pretty. Good opener by xtian.

killer b quickly set up a killer b formation that leveraged our strengths. I was in centerfield standing between a girl who had no idea what she was doing and Timothy Stack. Killer B lined up in left field playing the deep and tricky green monster that this asphalt jungle wrought on us.

Needless to say, I was a vacuum cleaner out there, running around frantically and catching most everything thrown my way, at least ten balls i think. I misplayed one ball that I had to hustle over to get to. My accelerated pace making the ball bounce off my chest. I was demoralized. The girl who had no idea suggested that it was "good hustle". She said it as though I were going to cry. I realized I was on the verge of tears. On the next play I overplayed a ball that was going to timothy stack and doubled up the person I had let on base. I stopped crying but I was still sweating.

We won. 7-3 or something, suffocating the other team with our defense and being crafty with our ball placement on offense. We had a good team. The guy who was wearing wrestling shoes completely ignored me when I was playing first base coach and over ran the runner in front of him. Still he is a weapon.

The girl who was sore at me for suggesting she should not play first base was (A) awesome as a first baseman and (B) a really cool person. I talked to her a nice long bit at the bar after.

somewhere in my 3rd or 4th pitcher I realized I was ripped and departed. I love this game.

Nerves are Starting to Take Hold

With just about 39 hours before Evil and I put it all out there for the good folks of Brooklyn to see I'm starting to feel some nerves. We haven't received our draw yet, but I can already visualize Evil and I cutting our way through the field of 128 to meet in the finals. Something about single elimination seems so cruel though. To think that after all that practice we might be eliminated before we know it by some dopey 12 year old with donut crumbs on his chin really makes you stop and appreciate what Roger Federer has done. It also makes you hate kids. I'll be wearing my all whites with blue wrist bands and my heart on my sleeve. Let's win one for The Hose, Evil.

Head Trauma

On Saturday I went hiking with the Killer Bs and 5ft tall Korean girl who curses like a sailor.

It was a fairly interesting hike. I recommend it. What I do not recommend is walking into a tree, which I did. Bad idea. Further, its a horrible idea to expect Killer B #2 to be any help at all. As I walked into the tree, I made a fairly loud noise which was met by a shriek that would have woken the dead, not from me though, but from her. I had to interrupt my own dramatic attempt to writhe around in pain with a plea for calmness. It sounded like this

"Ouch...please relax"

then I went back to writhing around in pain...

Manolo Needs To Work On His Photoshop Skills

Hey DullerBiatch - I do see that you are a pro…at sucking…...

P.S.- Your comments are way off the mark. I am still cool. Even on my worst day, you are no match for me. Darryl Strawberry was an average baseball player especially when he wasn't on crack. Landing on the moon was done in a sound stage in New Mexico and mastadons which are actually spelled mastOdons are not that fuzzy...

Manolo Has Hurt Feelings

Over the weekend, I called Xtian for our twice a year phone call…After making fun of Evil for about 10 minutes, we proceeded to talk about life. That conversation lasted about 2 minutes (which I think is a personal record for us). We promptly changed our conversation to the Hose which at this juncture WAS the only thing keeping our friendship together….

I said WAS because xTian and Evil staged are guilty of staging a coup d’état. I didn’t think they had it in them but I am to give credit where credit is due. It is almost genius the way they did it. First, Evil took the Hose as his own personal diary. He started posting every day with these lame posts about leaving [his old job], having sex with Mystery, and flying to India to become the next Siddhartha…

That was around the last time I read the Hose because besides being unbelievably boring, xTian and Evil got their cronies in Wall Street to crash the real estate market. I have been working non-stop to salvage what’s left of my real estate empire…Do you know how time consuming and exhausting it is to kick people out of their homes? You have to involve lawyers, get an eviction notice, and then get the sheriff to throw all those bums out…You give them plenty of time (5 minutes) to gather their papers and most important belongings and they still complain. They also have no control of their kids. You think they will find one minute in those five to tell their kids to stop crying. And another thing, those kids are freaking retards…they always leave their favorite blanket or toy behind. Hey kid, you ever stopped to think that maybe if you didn’t spend your five minutes crying, you could have gotten your Tickle Me Elmo…

Then, xTian and Evil go and draft some elementary school superstar thinking he is the next Kobe Bryant or LeBron James. They don’t tell poor DullerBiatch that he will be playing with the big boys and that his WeeWee skills won’t get him anywhere. Next step involves hosting an election about my future without telling me. I didn’t know there was a vote taking place until Monday with an hour left before polls closed. You know how little time that is to make an informed decision and vote. Luckily, I was able to access six computers and make my voice heard…otherwise I would have lost by a bigger margin. All I wanted was a chance…You don’t think I would have been wooing Hose readers like super delegates at the Democratic Convention, or working on a way to get access to more computers…

Don’t you know how hard I fought for the Hose? I made this place what it is. I can count on three fingers the people I have brought in…What about the times the Hose was left for dead and I went ahead and made a fool of myself for your amusement. I wanted the chance to partake in something greater than myself and you have crushed my dream…Now I will crush you…

You Decide!

When I was younger, DC Comics did something really innovative. People were not responding to the second Robin, Jason Todd. Not knowing what to do, the editors took drastic action. In issue 427 of Batman, they had the Joker beat him bloody with a crowbar and then blow up the building he was in. The last page of the issue (pictured here) offered two numbers. Dial the first if you wanted Robin to live, dial the second if you wanted him to die. Needless to say the fan boys spoke and issue 428 found Batman pulling Robin's bloody corpse out of the rubble. End the story of Robin II.

Evil and I had a mind meld and agreed that something like this could work on the Hose. Now that Killer B has joined our ranks and we are in a recession, Evil and I are thinking about doing a little house cleaning. Item number 1 here is to figure out if we need to trim the fat at all. We weren't sure who to get rid of, but we are leaning towards Manolo. This week's poll is our attempt to make this a referendum about Manolo. You tell us if he stays or if he goes...

Good luck Manolo...you'll need it.