I told you recently that my eMusic account refreshed, and I had another fifty (fifty!) songs to play around with. Welp, this isn’t something you can just go jumping into all willy-nilly. Oh no, much contemplation must take place.
For instance, I like to download full albums only; I’m not really a cherry-pickin’ kind of guy. And since the credits don’t carry over from month to month, I attempt to use EXACTLY fifty songs — no more, no less.
So, you see, it’s a little like working a puzzle. If I get this one, it’ll only leave eight songs, but if I go with that one, I’ll have eleven and can probably find something good with eleven songs it… On and on it goes, for days, sometimes weeks. It’s part of the fun, really. And next month I might start using Microsoft Excel to help organize the process.
In any case, here’s what I finally settled on:
Justin Townes Earle (12 songs) Son of Steve Earle, my favorite communist country & western singer. This thing has the critics a-slobbering, AND he covers the Replacements. How could I not get it? I mean, seriously.
M. Ward (14 songs) I literally knew (know) nothing about this guy (or is it a band?), but several of you suggested I check out the latest album. So I did, and love it. I’ve been burned by a few critics’ darling dirge records recently (Bon Iver), but this one has plenty of life in it, and wit as well.
Robyn Hitchcock (10 songs) The brand new album by one of my favorite artists. I had a conversation with him and Peter Buck once, in Raleigh. Robyn was exceedingly friendly, and even drew a cartoon for me on the back of an envelope (it’s a long story), but Peter looked at me like I was wearing a full sash of turds.
Young Fresh Fellows (14 songs) A great album I own on vinyl LP, but never got around to buying on CD. A classic from my hipster days.
So, there ya go. On March 23 I’ll have fifty more songs, and it’ll start all over again. Can’t hardly wait!
And just so you know… Those four albums cost me $14.99, and it would be exactly $36.97 at iTunes. Oh yeah.
When I slapped my contact lenses on my eyeballs yesterday morning, I could tell something wasn’t exactly right with the left one. It was a tad uncomfortable. So I took it out, squirted it with saline, rubbed it around in the palm of my hand, and put it back in my eye.
And it felt OK for the first five hours or so. Then it started stinging, and I eventually had tears rolling down my cheek like that garbage Indian.
By the time I got home this morning, around 2:30, it felt like someone had jumped out of the bushes and stabbed me in the left eye with a pocket knife. Possibly the scissors (or fish scaler) blade on a Swiss Army knife.
I really need to keep some solution in my desk at work. It’s one of those things I intend to take care of, way off in the abstract future sometime.
Because I don’t think I’d really enjoying wearing an eye patch for the rest of my life… Sure, it seems kind of cool, but I have a feeling reality might be a little different than fantasy.
From Netflix I recently received The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford. I remember thinking I’d like to see it, but when I opened the envelope I noticed it has a running time of 2 hours 39 minutes.
So, it went right back into the mail. Funk dat. Two hours is too long, in my opinion, and two and a half is out of the question. If a director can’t tell a story in 120 minutes or less, it’s not a story worth telling. You know, generally speaking.
Next up: Burn After Reading. Running time: 96 minutes.
I’m completely addicted to lists. I scribble them in my notebook all the time, attempting to bring order to my chaotic life, I guess. I build a to-do list for every day of the week, one day in advance, and another that covers the whole weekend.
For today I have three items written down, and haven’t completed any yet. This update is one of them, though. So, by the time you read this, at least one task will be completed.
The weekend list only has six things on it, which includes the three from today. I used to make the mistake of hopeful estimating, and would create unreasonable expectations. Then I’d get all worked up about it, and want to slug myself in the genitalia.
So, you see, I’m becoming very skilled at this list-making. I’m pretty good at being realistic, while still pushing myself. I can make you a list of the best list-making practices, if you’d like. Just let me know, and I’ll add your list list to my list.
A few nights ago Clive Bull asked his listeners what they’d miss most if they left England, and the responses were pretty interesting. So, let’s try it here… What would you miss most if you left the U.S. or Canada (over 85% of you are in the U.S. or Canada), especially if you moved to a country that hasn’t been Americanized (yet).
Also, I know there are a few American readers now living abroad. Like Taiwan On and Aaron in Australia… If you guys could tell us what you miss the most about the good ol’ U.S. of A., if anything, we’d be much obliged.
And I’m not really talking about high-horse stuff like freedom and liberty either, I’m talking about Cheetos and that sort of thing.
Also, I’d like to know what’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever seen lying in the middle of a road. I once happened upon a full-blown upright piano, on I-64 in West Virginia. The thing had apparently fallen off the back of a truck, and was fucked nine ways to Sunday.
Plus, there were sofas and ladders on 285 in Atlanta, almost daily. Seriously, almost every day.
Use the comments link to tell us your stories on that subject.
And I’m gonna turn it over to Buck now, and call it a week. Here’s his latest, which I know you’ll enjoy.
You guys have yourselves a fantastic (that’s kind of a gay word, isn’t it?) weekend.
And I’ll see you on Monday.
Well, shit on a stick…
I think I’d miss having sex with strangers. Well, I guess you can do that anywhere. So I’d like to change my answer to cheesburgers.
One time my brother and I got high on marijuana pot and went driving to find something to eat. In the middle of the highway were hundreds of little cans of chef boyardee crap. Spagettios, raviolis, the works. We start tossing them in the front seat, we probably got 30 or 40 before another car started coming. He started opening them and eating them cold, using a ruler as a spoon. I didn’t like them cold so I had the idea to put a few cans under the hood and drive around so they’d heat up. They ended up getting TOO hot and I burned the fuck out of my hand.
After that we ended up in a little town across the Mexico boarder. I tried to trade about 20 chef boyardees to a girl in exchange for sex. After we had sex she left without taking her food. So I ate it. All of it.
I guess I’ll cut this off right here. I don’t want to make a Jorge sized post outta this.
I’d miss Jason.
I think the popo on the bunker cam needs to “do a cleanse.” Looks like there’s 30-40 lbs of something stuck up in his bowels.
Do you think they just rinsed out that collander and used it to strain the pasta that night for dinner?
@ Jason:
“I tried to trade about 20 chef boyardees to a girl in exchange for sex.”
Nice. So tell me, what kind of woman does 20 cans of canned pasta buy? Did she have teeth?
@ Tyrosine well, “she left”, so I guess she at least had a pulse?
you don’t need teeth to eat chef boyardee (unless it’s to open the can)
The strangest thing I ever saw in the middle of the road was this arrangement of a cross, some fake flowers, and a rotting out stuffed animal. There was also a sign that said ‘we miss you Secretia’.
She was cute. And I think she’d just done a colon cleanse because there was a collander of feces on the dresser. She couldn’t really speak English that well. And I think she might have thought I was her uncle or something. After we were done I took her to an ice cream parlor and I nabbed one of those tiny tasting spoons. I used it to eat all of her pasta back at the hotel. All 20 cans. I think I need a colon cleanse.
But if we’re talking about in the actual traffic lanes of the road, I’m going to have to go with the time there was a dead person in the middle of the road. It appeared as if this man was having a problem, like maybe a heart attack or something, and had exited his vehicle for help. He wasn’t run over or anything, but clearly he was dead, and in the right lane. The fact that there was a dead man in the road was not as bothersome as was the fact that everyone was just swerving around him like they were only seeing a pile of retread or something. I would have stopped, but I was only 11 and my Mom was too busy laughing because that was the same guy that had cut her off just 40 miles before in Tulsa.
I’d have to charge at least 2 cases of Chef Boyardee for a foot job.
I’d let you suck my big toe for free though.
What is a foot job, exactly?
Like a hand job, except done with feet.
If there’s oil involved I’m in. I have two cases of raviolis. I ate a couple out of one case but I can throw in some ramen noodles to make up the difference. Let me know where we can meet. And please refer to me by my fuckname: T Farty McAppleass.
I have been reading the WVSR since 2001, when it was sponsored by little debbie cakes, pussy brand apples, and eKay, a dubious auction website.
Back then there were no comments, only a guestbook, but still, today is the first time I have seen anyone successfully solicit a sex act in return for chef boyardee via this website.
Congrats Jeff, you’ve officially reached real honest to god website status when people are trading canned ravioli for sex.
I have to be careful with the oil. One time I didn’t get all the oil off my feet post-job. When I put my heels on to leave, my foot slid in my shoe and I twisted my ankle. I couldn’t work for 2 weeks. I tried to file a workers comp claim, but that didn’t turn out well.
Fair enough. Just make sure you call me Farty and I get really turned on when someone states the obvious. For example, you might say, “Oh yes. You’re doin it Farty. You’re fucking my feet while I’m eating noodles out of this can.” Prolly wouldn’t take more than a few seconds if you talked like that.
Oh, Farty…you’re gonna make my job so easy. And my 7 kids will be eating good this weekend.
Dear Mr. McAppleass,
That poor girl was my half sister. (Bred by Dad on a tropical vacation.) In her home country, 20 cans is considered an offer of marriage. The reason that poor girl left empty handed wasn’t because she was giving up her dowrer, she was going to get her Family so they could all move in with you! She was crushed to find you and the cans gone upon her return and has never been the same since. On the really bad nights, she clutches her arms around herself and whispers in a sweet Texas drawl.
Better late than never…..
I was stopped at a traffic light, somewhere in Texas I think, when a bird fell from the sky and plunked down right in front of the rental car I was driving. Did it have a heart attack? Hit a power wire? Dunno. But it sure seemed like a “sign from God”.
Of course, I’m still alive an kicking many years later. So I guess God doesn’t make very good signs.
“And I think she’d just done a colon cleanse because there was a collander of feces on the dresser. She couldn’t really speak English that well. And I think she might have thought I was her uncle or something”
Dammit Jason I always thought LOL was a stupid ass concept but I just fell off my damn chair laughing my ass off:)
Timmies, milk that comes in bags and Coffee Crisp chocolate bars.
Things I’ve seen driving:
– early morning on the 401 in Toronto, a tractor trailer rollover across about 4 lanes, the trailers spilled open, the tractors on fire, the firemen are hosing it down, and the cargo’s Tide Detergent, foaming up all over the place
– early morning, highway 1 in Northern California near Eureka, a friggin deer trying to jump over the little P.O.S. econobox I was the passenger in. It didn’t make it, head hit the windsheild right in front of me, and now there’s a dead dear in the middle of the road, and we’re spinning out…drove the rest of the way to Vancouver with a windsheild half covered with gaffers tape and little bits of glass falling in my lap.
– on a 2 lane blacktop, a loose pair of rear wheels off a 5-ton truck, came off the truck 1/4 mile ahead of me, rolled along for a while at about 60, and wobbled off to trash a cornfield, nobody hurt.
-beside the a main road outside Guadalahara, Mexico, a dead horse, that everybody using the shoulder had to detour around. A week later it was still there, too.
I haven’t travelled much outside Canada and the US, been through parts of Mexico and a couple of Carribean vacation spots, but I missed all kinds of things when I was in Cuba, but I guess that’s not what we’re looking for here.
Still,that place was so fucked up, I couldn’t stand it. Shifty looking creeps with machine guns checking your passport just to allow you to get on a boat to go snorkelling, or fishing. Like I was going to hijack the boat to ecape, instead of just getting on the plane with the rest of the tourist gringos? Seriously, WTF?
Other people I know had a great time there, go figure.
I’m going to regret this post later but…Footisie girl and Jason….Jimmyy Kuhn just spurted.
an extra y can screw up a joke huh…?
Oh…and an extra i… too.
Judge Jimmy Kuhn? Don’t get too hot and bothered. Bitch didn’t show up. I was stuck driving around with two cases of Italianish pasta in my trunk. Nobody does that. What if I’d been pulled over by the police? They’d of known right off that I was trading it for foot sex, as is the popular trend.
Footsie you’re a cruel bitch – wish you’d answer my emails though. Was the picture I sent over the top? What about the poem? X’s and O’s baby, suck those toes.
Judge Jimmy Kuhn? Don’t get too hot and bothered. Bitch didn’t show up. I was stuck driving around with two cases of Italianish pasta in my trunk. Nobody does that. What if I’d been pulled over by the police? They’d of known right off that I was trading it for foot sex, as is the popular trend.
Footsie you’re a cruel bitch – wish you’d answer my emails though. Was the picture I sent over the top? What about the poem? X’s and O’s baby, suck those toes.
Saw a very drunk guy right in the middle of a highway in Philly staggering all over the place. Someone was having a tough time getting him to the side.
What I would miss? A juicy burger.
Good Morning Surf Reporters
Love your reports, Jeff.
I’m WV born & raised, now resident of Atlanta.
Strange things on the side of the road have always facinated me, especially around vicinity of thrift stores. There you see shoes, occasionally in pairs, but most often the singular variety. I expect they’ve gone to hunt the legendary lost socks. It’s so true about the Georgia road ladders–I ran over a huge one late at night & flattened three tires. Yikes!
I’d really miss brown beans & cornbread, ice tea (no sugar for me, though), Kroger’s and Target.
Weirdest thing on the road. This is from my honey, Joe.
He was on 81 South coming back home, and we were talking on the phone. “Wow” he says, “There’s something burning on the road” he passes it, no big deal. Just weird. Then, “Holy shit, theres more fires!” and there was a series of four or five little fires ahead of him. “HOLY SHIT! There’s a car on fire!!” he stopped to assist (because he’s all about the assist) and sure enough, this guys car is almost totally engulfed in flames. Joe asked what happened, and the guy told him there was a matteress laying in the middle of the road, and this doofus drove OVER it. The mattress somehow got hooked under his car, and the heat from the tailpipe set it on fire. Leaving a bunny trail of flaming mattress several miles down 81 South, until the whole thing went up in flames.
And that’s true.
I don’t think I would ever trade pasta for random foot sex. They would have to throw in something extra.
I’m not going to make it today. I’ll post “Monday’s” update ASAP, but it’s not gonna be before I leave for work today. Sorry.
I just saw a barefooted woman leave the Kay house with a case of Spaghetti O’s. Guess that’s why we don’t get an update today…
When I was stationed in Germany the only think I missed was Wawa, Cheesesteaks, scrapple, cream chipped beef, E A G L E S!, my C.C.P., 2nd amendment, 4th of july and Family. There was a girlfriend in that mix but she was flying off the top rope in some douches bed before I even landed.
In remarks to “CC” post……My God it looks like some one swallowed and eel and just shit it out whole again. I mean look at “Linda from the US” she is actually holding it with her bare hand….this website is like a sick fetish-porn, you whip your head around in half-gag reflex fashion trying not to look at the screen, but for some screwed up mental reason you have to peek again. Then I sit here and wonder how much spackled paste I have stuck to my innards?
Were these people ready for this….do you have to sit on the shitter for 3 days for the ass cannon action?
I would trade some boxes of pasta for foot sex since my feet are always cold and that would be a nice warm place to put them to warm up.
I lived in Italy for a while, and the thing I missed the most was cheddar cheese and peanut butter.
Oh, I couldn’t wait to get back, but now I feel nostalgic about it all.
I still live in the good ol’ USA…but the thing I’m missin’ most right now is the Monday WVSR update!!!!! 🙂
Here’s somrthing i figured you might like to see and maybe pass on http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=brD5D0ytD04&eurl=http://www.breitbart.tv/?p=298783&feature=player_embedded. They are but a few years away from being spooky real.
Re: Ivan…
Also I love the WVSR, but am new to this commenting process. I don’t mean to inflame , but why do some commenters here post with absolutely nothing to say? Such as..
“I’m not really sure about anything at this point. I’m going to close the door to my office and take a nap.”
Ivan…Tha’ts not the comments section…That’s Jeff’s daily update.
What I’ve missed when I was out of the US:
Ice in Italy
eggs for breakfast in Germany
filthy subways
whining people
slow walkers
drivers cutting me off
Living in Ukraine, I miss the following (in no particular order):
1. Cashiers and salespeople who don’t treat me as an interruption of their cigarette break.
2. High-end restaurants/clubs that offer a real toilet instead of a hole in the ground (c’mon guys, if you could spring for the Italian mosaic tile, you could have also bought the commode).
3. Police giving tickets to drivers parking/driving on the sidewalk.
4. Meat wrapped in plastic and stored in a refrigerator, instead of piled high on concrete slabs at the market.
5. Watching the Superbowl without having to kick people out of my house for harping on about soccer.
6. Alcoholics keeping their lifestyle to themselves, instead of sharing it on fifty different holidays via their Karaoke machine.
7. The generally accepted belief that body odor, garbage, stale urine, and fish are all smells that need to be concealed from the public.
8. People waiting their turn in line.
9. Paying my bills by check or online, instead of having to waste a day a month going to various shitty little buildings across town, standing in a line of about 100 people and threatening to kick the ass of everyone, save the babushkas, who tries to cut in.
10. American beef, Mexican food, cream cheese, blueberries, hummus, Canadian bacon, pastrami/corned beef/turkey sandwich meat, lobster, and anything else that I can’t ship over without smelling like a warm Ukrainian summers day by the time it arrived.
Note to self: Remove Ukraine from list of places to visit before I die.
i didn’t FIND it in the middle of the road, but once i saw a large piece of workout equipment fly out of the back of a pickup truck on PCH (Hwy 101). My boyfriend and I still laugh hysterically at the memory of the rather large man trying to dodge traffic to grab his total gym. (We suppose the poor thing was trying to make a mad dash for it.)