Unusual Paintings of Obama Naked with Unicorns.

I'm rarely rendered speechless, but I have to say that these interesting pieces of work nearly accomplished the task.

Temptation Island.

For the last week or so, I've gotten an email in my spam folder with the subject "Scarlett Johansson naked in her shower." This is a welcome reprieve from the usual erectile dysfunction ads and penis enlargement tonics - because at least I find Scarlett Johansson attractive. I decided long ago that penis enlargement cures wouldn't work on me just weren't relevant.

I know if by some chance I did click, the resulting page would just say "qskfjhqskfqksfjkqsjfDISCOUNT VIAGRA NOW," and the corresponding clickthrough would report all of my keystrokes to a scam artist in Eastern Europe.

Kid Rock on Celebrity Twitters:

Between quotes like this, "All Summer Long," and the debut of Bad Ass Beer, Kid Rock has made quite a name for himself on this blog in the last year. One could say he's adopted a sort of Snoopish cool for the redneck set.

Here's his response when asked by Rolling Stone for his thoughts on celebrities on Twitter:

"It's gay. If one more person asks me if I have a Twitter, I'm going to tell them, "Twitter this dick, motherfucker." I don't have anything to say, and what I have to say is not that relevant. Anything that is relevant, I'm going to bottle it up and then squeeze it onto a record somewhere."

Lay Low.

Even though I'd been warned by pretty much everyone I knew who had seen it, I left Bruno feeling pretty disappointed. I can't put my finger exactly on what the problem was, but there was something about Borat that was just warmer, more friendly, more - forgive me - believable than Bruno was.

The story - although you can stop reading here if you're thinking "the fuck? he's reviewing Bruno and talking about the story?!" - didn't seem to flow very well and took periodic breaks from making sense at all. The movie seemed to exist as a vehicle for a collection of sketches based on "a gay guy doing things where he'll obviously stick out," which somehow felt less legit than the crappy documentary feel of Borat.

Don't get me wrong, I laughed a lot, but ended up feeling like Baron Cohen went to the well one too many times and came up a little short. Let's all be glad that he doesn't have any more characters in the vault.

100 Things Yours Kids May Never Know - Or, I Write a Post That Sounds Really Crotchety.

I agree with most of this list. Here are some I don't:

#9: Vinyl records. Even today’s DJs are going laptop or CD.
I've recently started selling back my CDs, and buying my favorite albums on vinyl. I look forward to a.) sharing my love of music with my children, and b.) hopefully passing down to them a big stack of good records. vinyl's on the comeback - not something I'd expect Wired Magazine to know.

#17: That there was a time before ‘reality TV.’
My kids will know this because I probably won't stop bitching about it every time a reality show comes on. I also hope they get to see a time after reality TV.

#46: Carrying on a correspondence with real letters, especially the handwritten kind.
Handwritten thank you notes are a big deal in my family. As long as my parents' generation is at the top of the food chain, my offspring will at least have to write that much.

#51: The fact that words generally don’t have num8er5 in them.
My kids will have to sleep in the garage if they start substituting numbers for letters.

#52: Correct spelling of phrases, rather than TLAs.
My kids will be sold to Third World sweatshops if I catch them communicating with TLAs.

#70: Taking turns picking a radio station, or selecting a tape, for everyone to listen to during a long drive.
I've always found this fun, and promotes everybody getting to share tastes. Not the whole drive - because that's when your kids "go missing" at the first rest stop and later innocently appear back home - but at least some of it.

#93: Looking out the window during a long drive.
Will cars stop having windows? No? Then I doubt this one will come true.

Chop Into Spending.

You can take the man out of the action movies, but you can't take the action movies out of the man.

I don't know about you (or greater California), but this is what I wanted when Arnold became governor six years ago. He's doing his job, but sometimes he wants to wave a giant knife around. He's Arnold Schwarzenegger! Let him! Californians are just lucky he didn't start chopping into his desk while talking about "CUTTING DA BUDGET."

A speech about spending cuts that will put plenty of Californians out of a job was probably not the best time to be all lighthearted and wave a knife around, but it's Arnold. Not a politician - a lifetime bodybuilder and action hero. Do steroid flashbacks exist?

And Sometimes I Sell My Body.

"A lot of women will have to have sex with a lot of men to get Logan Campbell to the 2012 Olympic Games."

Campbell, a taekwondo athlete, has opened a brothel in his native New Zealand to try to finance a bid to the 2012 Olympics. When asked why, he responded that he didn't want his parents to foot the bill - his mom has wanted a new kitchen for the last ten years, but she hasn't been able to afford it because of paying for his equipment and competitions. My mom wanted me to call home and ask for money before selling plasma when I was in college - I can't imagine what she'd have done if I'd started pimping out my friends on the side.

The IOC isn't happy with Campbell's pursuits. Apparently, despite the presence of the NBA in Olympic competition, they still expect Olympians to maintain a certain level of decorum - even if no laws are being broken, they "expect athletes to be strong role models for the rest of society and for youth in particular."

Pimpin' ain't easy.

Gentle Ben?

Ben Roethlisberger has been accused of sexual assault by a woman named Andrea McNulty. That, however, is not the issue here. The issue here is the response from Ben's lawyer:

"This weekend Andrea McNulty served Ben Roethlisberger with a civil complaint accusing him of sexually assaulting her in July 2008. Ben has never sexually assaulted anyone; especially Andrea McNulty."

Was that bolded part really necessary? First, you may or may not have sexually assaulted her, and then you give a statement in which you basically say "if I was going to sexually assault someone, it sure as hell wouldn't be her."

Insult to possible injury.

Congestion.

I just had to work my way through the entire Mahoning County court system phone tree to verify receipt of my payment for my traffic ticket. The reason? If they hadn't received my payment and I hadn't shown for my court appearance (not happening - not worth the drive to Ohio even if I did think I'd been speeding), they would have issued a warrant for my arrest and suspended my drivers license in Virginia.

We could have all avoided this stress, Ohio, if you'd offered some sort of online payment option. The vintage 50's diner in downtown Cville that still doesn't take credit cards offers an online system to pay in advance, so it can't be that hard. Think about it.

Missing Priorities.

The headline on the Drudge Report is currently "TERRIFYING 57% TAX LOOMS FOR BIGGEST EARNERS IN NYC," while "Official: Britain will see 63,000 die from swine flu..." on the bottom of the right column for old news, under an article about South African ATMs that can protect themselves with pepper spray.

I'm not advocating high taxes or freaking out about the swine flu, but one definitely scares me more than the other. I'll also say that if ATMs all start protecting themselves with pepper spray, I'd better get a hell of a lot better at entering my PIN while drunk.

Wilco & Feist on Letterman.

Click it for Wilco's performance of "You and I" on Letterman from last night featuring Feist on vocals. "You and I" may not be the greatest song in the world (or even a tribute) - but it's still Wilco on the national stage, and it's a pretty little song.

Feist definitely seems like she doesn't know what to do without a guitar in her hands.

Lt. Dan, The US Government's Argument Ain't Got No Legs.

For those who haven't been up with the news in recent months, US Army Lt. Dan Choi recently defied the military's archaic "don't ask, don't tell" proclamation by coming out of the closet on the Rachel Maddow Show.

The Army, immediately saw the chance to make a groundbreaking choice and completely ignored it, issuing a letter of discharge saying that the Lt. had "negatively affected good order and discipline in the New York Army National Guard."

The fact that it's 2009 and the military is still basically plugging their ears with their fingers, closing their eyes, and saying "na na na there're no gays in our military" scares me. Our military still having the idea that serving amongst gay people will "negatively affect good order and discipline" written into its bylaws disappoints me. I guess it will - all those feather boas and assless chaps will definitely be distracting on the battlefield.

A counterpoint is that the military doesn't always draw the most liberal souls, and that the presence of gays might actually negatively affect good order and discipline. I'd like to think - and the purported support of Lt. Choi's men supports this - that the bond forged by serving together would overcome any such prejudice.

I hope that next time our military complains about a numbers crunch on new enlistments, they think about the 12,500 soldiers that have been dismissed since the beginning of Don't Ask, Don't Tell. 12,500 capable soldiers written off solely because of sexual orientation. I also hope our President gets moving on wiping this rule out of the book - something that should have been done years ago.

Finally, if by some chance there's another draft, I'm going to report to my draft hearing living up every awful gay stereotype I can think of.

Festivals For All Of Us.

Some notes from my nine day journey into Ohio & West Virginia:

1.) It got a little uncomfortable at the first festival working in the promoters office while he had loud domestic disputes in the house. A sample exchange:
Wife: YOU'RE LUCKY IT'S A HOLIDAY WEEKEND OR I'D HAVE A LAWYER HERE. I WANT A DIVORCE!
Promoter: I'm leaving.
Wife: YEAH! GO OFF AND FUCK YOUR WHORES!
Promoter: Can we talk about this?
Wife: I AM TALKING ABOUT IT! I'M SAYING FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! I'M LEAVING!
Promoter: Yeah, headed off to suck dicks!

Needless to say, this made it awkward when the promoter would walk into and ask how things were going. The discomfort was elevated further by the presence of multiple guns in various points in the house.

2.) One of our staff at All Good went out to sell tickets one day wearing two of our red ticket aprons as a skirt. I've got no report on how her sales did that day compared to the others.

3.) The longest stretch I endured without sleep was 26 hours. The weekend was capped off by watching Umphrey's McGee play the Saturday late night headlining set from side stage. Looking out into the crowd and seeing 25,000 happy Wookies made the whole week worthwhile.

Tide You Over.

What's up, Bloglets.

It's been a little bit. I've got some entries to post, but first, a couple of links to hold you over until later:

First, take a listen to Weezer covering MGMT's "Kids" with an interpolation of Lady GaGa's "Pokerface" towards the end. So many conflicting emotions - the songs are catchy as hell and they rock the performance, but...really, Weezer? Three guys on keyboards? I'm sure that this would be a gas to see live as a one time thing, but I like my Weezer as a guitar rock outfit.

Second, I'd like you to quickly try to make a list of the rock stars you think would be most likely to get in a barroom brawl. Take five minutes, make it a pretty extensive exercise, and come back here. Did you get to Collective Soul & Gavin DeGraw? No one else did, either.

Take Me Home, Country Roads.

I head to West Virginia to work All Good this evening. I probably won't have much time to update from there, but I'll be on Twitter via text pretty consistently. Check the link at the top of the page if you want to see what I'm up to.

This fest has, in contrast, been very laid back. Last night, I had time to watch some Chappelle's Show, and I started my morning with some bad ass blueberry pancakes on the beach while the hippie nation started to wake up around me.

I got a speeding ticket ten miles out of town. I'm not sure if the cop read me or read the car in front of me - as his reading was a few miles off what my speedometer read - but considering I was still going ten over by my reading and that I'm definitely not driving to Ohio to contest a ticket I'd probably lose, I'm going to pay it.

Foolish Young Bastard.

Jess and I went out to the National to see The Heartless Bastards and Jenny Lewis on Friday night. This probably wasn't the best idea - as I had to get up at six in the morning on Saturday to drive out to Ohio to work - but being that the show was the whole reason I didn't go to Ohio on Friday, we went.

It was a nice show for an evening out. The Heartless Bastards went on first and played for 45 minutes or so. The real highlight was "The Mountain" - one of the best tracks of this year that I've pretty much played to death. It's a pedal steel rocker.

Jenny Lewis came on after, and overcame wearing horrible high waisted shorts to play a nice 75 minute set consisting mostly of material from Acid Tongue, her newest disc. Highlights included an Elvis Costello-less "Carpetbagger," "Jack Killed Mom," opening with "The Next Messiah," and the solo acoustic version of the Rilo Kiley banger "Silver Lining." Oh, and me still finding Ms. Lewis attractive despite the shorts. Women: I don't care if high waists have returned to hipness. They don't look good.

Try to Love Someone.

I break beers down into two categories: those that you drink to enjoy the experience of drinking them, and those that you pound cheap twelve packs of an in evening in an effort to get schwasted.

I'd imagine that Kid Rock's new brew sits very solidly in the second category.

Manliness Update:

Despite my affinity for meat and lasers, I just slaved over a hot stove to have dinner ready for when my lady gets home from work, and it was pretty awesome. I'm pretty sure that despite posting our engagement pictures on Facebook and cooking while my fiancee works, my testosterone levels haven't gone down any.

I always wonder if I could pull the stay at home Dad thing off. Jess has already dove head first into a time consuming career, and I'm still treading water (to put it nicely), so if one of us was going to end up staying home with prospective offspring, I'd be a viable candidate. I just don't know if I could do it - I've got a pretty big block against being provided for, and none of my dreams about making a difference somewhere in the world have started at home. There's a pretty good chance I'd enjoy it, but there's an even bigger chance I'd go insane by the third week.

MEAT and LASERS.

There is absolutely no question in my mind that this product is aimed at "men's men." That said, here I am thinking it's funny and posting it. I suppose meat and lasers are the access code to a man's soul.

This is an interesting novelty product, really, aside from the problem of people forgetting your contact information as soon as they've passed it, and being attacked by hungry animals on business outings.

Pretty Mouths.

A sign that your car might be past its prime: when you rent one to make a six hour trip through the mountains because breaking down in West Virginia hasn't been known to be a good idea.

I found a rental for $350. It'll probably be a wagon with a lawnmower engine duct taped to it, but I don't care so long as it gets me to Ohio, to West Virginia, and back home in one piece.

Keepin' It Fresh Like Zip-Locs.

My parents have sold the house in Yorktown - my childhood home now has an expiration date of August 14th. Hopefully I can get back before then - both to say goodbye, and to save any of my stuff that I'd want to keep out of what is still there.

The new place may or may not be ready. As the giant hotel that is perpetually under construction next to my office could tell you, it's difficult to count on deadlines in that industry. My parents might end up apartment hunting before actually moving.

This is a weird feeling. Some of my first memories are playing King of the Mountain with my sister in the dirt while this house was being built. I've known about these plans for years, but even having seen their new one in various stages of construction, I still haven't felt like it's actually happening. I guess I won't have a choice pretty soon.

Wilco (The Review)

Wilco (The Album) came out on Tuesday, and, although I've had the record for two months or so, I feel like I can review it now that it's official. There seem to be are two prevailing opinions amongst Wilco fans about this record: those who are enjoying the sound of a band comfortable with itself, and those who long for the band to return to the experimental sounds of ten years ago.

There are a lot of things that Wilco (The Album) won't do. It's not going to break any musical ground. It's not going to please a lot of the scenester kids that Yankee Hotel Foxtrot brought in. It's not going to rock you too hard. What it will do is give you a set of solid songs by a killer band that will give you a steady supply of material to bob your head to. It may be dad-rock, but it's dad-rock at its finest. This one doesn't have the highs ("You are My Face," "Impossible Germany," "Walken,") of its predecessor, but it also doesn't have the lows ("Shake it Off," "Leave Me Like You Found Me").

Highlights: the George Harrison apeing "You Never Know," Wilco (The Song) - which has gone from seeming like a bad idea to a whimsical highlight, the effortless shifts and turns of "Deeper Down," the mid tempo vibe of "One Wing," the ZZ Top country riffage of "Sonny Feeling," and finally the closer, "Everlasting."

Lowlights: Feist being used on a song as openly lame as "You and I," the pretty-yet-forgettable "Country Disappeared" and "Solitaire," and finally less Nels Cline rockage than on Sky Blue Sky.

This is far from Wilco's best record, and I probably won't go all crazy fanboy and call it the best record of the year (like I did with SBS). It's just a good, enjoyable disc from a band that is still fully fleshing out what this incarnation is capable of.

Around Town.

Sports Illustrated has a story in this week's issue entitled "How Beckham blew it" about the failure of David Beckham to become an American icon in MLS. What I bet they didn't cover is that Americans, by and large, don't care about soccer, and one international star won't solve that. They'd rather buy magazines at drug stores with pictures of Beckham and Posh Spice walking around LA than watch an entire MLS game. Also, I guess it needs to be noted that even my friends who are avid soccer fans think MLS is pretty poor. I feel like those who aren't fans probably think that MLS is some sort of degenerative disease.

This is going to be a tough habit to break on long, boring trips. Luckily for me, there's always messing with my ipod or making phone calls. My question is, if this is such a problem, why are DVD players in the front seats still legal? I'd like to think texting takes less of my attention than attempting to save Private Ryan on I-64.