The Boss Is Still the Boss

Posted by Miss Ess, May 17, 2007 01:18pm | Post a Comment
born in the usa bruce springsteen

Much to my boyfriend's dismay, I am once again obsessed with that little slice of Americana that is Born in the USA.

I have a car, and my car has a tape deck.  For most music fanatics, this would seem like aborn in the usa bruce springsteen nightmare, but I quite enjoy it.  I see the tape deck as a challenge and a chance to listen to things I normally would have forgotten all about.  I actually really love having the deck.  There's nothing like going through your parents' old tapes to find Every Great Motown Hit of Marvin Gaye, or my early childhood Holy Grail: Born In the USA.

Bruce Springsteen, my mother always taught me as a child of the early 80s, was the hardest working man in show business. (Tina Turner was her hardest working woman selection.)  She would explain to me in all seriousness how he gave his all at his live shows and how hard he worked the crowd each and every night.  This woman has never actually gone to a Boss concert, mind you, but hey, she's never been short on opinions! (I had to get it from sombruce springsteen the bossewhere, right?) Guess Mom musta watched that Dancing in the Dark video a few too many times!  Anyway, Born in the USA was something we could all listen to together, my energy loving mom, my construction working dad, my annoying brother, and ME.

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Day Of The Animals

Posted by phil blankenship, May 16, 2007 01:35pm | Post a Comment

Media Home Entertainment M172


Posted by Gomez Comes Alive!, May 16, 2007 10:35am | Post a Comment
So I was up late one night watching television and I saw this:

At first, I admit, the segment made me want to drive to Silver Lake Park (The playground that is shown in the feature), pull out a bullhorn and yell out "MAS P_TO!" ala George Lopez. Nothing like seeing a bunch of Silver Lake alterna-yuppies making the television viewing audience feel inferior. Most people don't have the disposable income that some of this hipsters have to take their children to The Sippy Cups shows, buy organic food or have the luxury to have a stay at home parent. Then again, it's your child! Wouldn't you rather spend the money that you would spend on, let's say, cable T.V. and fast food on buying your child food that won't give them cancer or diabetes in the future? Wouldn't you want your child to enjoy art and physical activities rather than sitting indoors spending endless hours playing video games and watching T.V.?
If you don't have a disposable income, there are many free programs for children in the Los Angeles area that focus on art and music. Some programs have basic after school programs and others have such activities as rock band (ala School of Rock), DJ classes, Folkloric dance, even yoga classes for youth. Let's say you don't have the time or transportation to do any of these things; just spending time with your child, listening to them, creating with them and involving them in your life will do so much for their growth. It's hard to believe with so many choices that some parents make the conscious decision every day to prioritize what they want over their children's needs. That is just sad.
There is nothing "alternative" about good parenting. The activities may differ but the basic goal is that once you're a parent that your life is all about your children. It is your responsibility to them and the rest of the world to raise them right.


Posted by phil blankenship, May 16, 2007 01:26am | Post a Comment

Prism Entertainment 2201

(In which Job gets into a screening and a fight.)

Posted by Job O Brother, May 15, 2007 10:51am | Post a Comment
I have some good news!

My and I sweetheart had our first fight.

(That’s not the good news. Note the paragraph break, indicating a different point; though their coupling is relevant. Therefore, don’t mistake the above sentences as a non-sequitur, per se; except in instances where they may be removed from this paragraph and, as a result, rendered sans context, in which case, y’all can get freaky freaky with your bad self.)

My sweetheart and I went to a media screening of “The Ten”, the new comic, moving picture (or “movie” for short) directed by David Wain and written by David Wain and Ken Marino (both known and loved for their participation of that miracle of radness known as “The State”.)

“The State” was a sketch show that ran for three seasons and launched the careers of many familiar faces that went on to create other hella sweet things: STELLA, Wet Hot American Summer, Reno 911, to name some of the better known.

The film was almost completely entertaining, and even when it wasn’t making me laugh outright, I was never bored. The film, unlike the first two paragraphs in this blog entry (when taken with this, the following elucidation, as before explained) is chock full of non-sequiturs and basic silliness, which I like a lot.

I like that kind of humor a lot.

Like, more than just friends.

Anyway, sometimes there’s a lull in the pace or mood as a means of creating a sudden tension or bring everything to a heightened sense of surreal anxiety, which I appreciate, but will strike most people as just… not funny, which I also love. It’s interesting to note, too, that the cast is large and has many hotties in it. It is a very sexy cast, and you will have more than one face to crush on.

My only actual complaint is one of the actors. I won’t say who, because I’m about to have brunch with them before we go to our Kabalaties Class (that’s combination Kabala study and Pilates work-out for those who aren’t insane), and I don’t want to spend the whole time we’re enjoying our #4 Special (wheat-grass colonics with lychee-scented oxygen tanks, served with a Thetan-cleansing aura douche and sweet potato fries) with me defending my blog. The actor in question is very famous, loved by many and, in my opinion, a terrible actor. Another good reason not to say who it is: because you may not share my disfavor and therefore have no problem with them, and you don’t need me making you feel all self-conscious because you have no taste.

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