Sickly.

Sickly.

Anyone who had the misfortune to see me Friday will be happy to know I spent all day yesterday on the couch recovering from that massive bender. I almost feel human today but am still a bit shaky. I'm well enough to make practice tonight, though, I think.

Items ingested in the past 24 hours:

• Water
• Chicken noodle soup
• Pepto-bismol
• Tortilla chips

The one item lifting my mood:

• iPod Touch given away to everyone at my company at our holiday party. Wi-Fi surfing galore!

The one thing i have to do RIGHT NOW that I really don't wanna:

• Go to the gym and try to sweat the last of this sickliness out.

Holidaze.

Holidaze.

Something tells me I've used that subject line before.

I made a fool of myself at the spontaneous Liar's Club dance party (and thank you to all those college kids that suddenly showed up and stormed the dance floor, you all were awesome!), but i had a blast so I don't care.

Tonight? My company holiday party, then Ellie (and Vee!) at Quenchers for the Merry Jewmas show, and then The Midnight Shows at Double Door. And then maybe Darkroom so I can give Kevin the evil eye for offering me a DJ gig tonight and then rescinding it when he realized one of his bandmates already filled the spot. O.K., O.K., no evil eye ... instead I'll just dance (or drunkenly sway) to his choice cuts.

Also, I recently learned that I am apparently attractive, and therefore viewed by most females as a whole heap of potential trouble. There are worse kinds of trouble to be, I suppose.

Tankboy out.

BFF.

BFF.

If you come by Liar's Club tonight to see me DJ, I will be our BFF, full of TLA. (And yes, those phrases really should never be uttered by anyone over the age of, say, 14, but there you have it.

The Lemonheads were truly incredible last night. Evan Dando may be a total space-case, but he's turned into a sweet space-case with a wickedly tight backing band. (Also, Karl, sorry if you didn't know what to play for the encore, I gave your set0list to Dan so he'd have some, erm, personal material to pleasure himself with when Keep is not around.)

And tonight? I climb back behind the mixer for the first time in what feels like forever. No Christmas music shall be played, I promise. And maybe we can get Ellie out and cajole her to reprise some of her more infamous moments?

Tony Pierce may have moved on to greener pastures (the L.A. frickin' Times!) but LAist is still kicking ass.

Tony Pierce may have moved on to greener pastures (the L.A. frickin' Times!) but LAist is still kicking ass.

Check out the sweet photo essay on the writer's picket line they did today. This one is especially Whedon-tastic (O.K., O.K., I love Whedon's writing, but i love his heroines more).

Too much genius.

Too much genius.

• The Chicagoist Holiday Gift Guide is out. It is awesome, and it tells you what to buy me for the holidays. Answer? Everything. (But mostly that Rarebit Fiend book.)


• Yet another reason I want to meet the makers of the Midwest Teen Sex Show.


• Continuing the awesome, there's a worthy benefit at Liar's Club tonight, with a one-of-a-kind band.


• Before Liar's, there's The Lemonheads*, with members of Descendants / ALL as the backing band for Mssr. Dando. Look's like it's gonna be a punk-rock-folk-pop kinda evening, huh?


• I may get carded for booze at bars, but just because I look younger than my years, that doesn't mean I feel younger. Case in point: I just read the following at a dance blog I enjoy reading, "So I was watching TV and I saw the trailer for Iron Man. It’s going to have (a sober) Robert Downey Jr. playing some scientist who invents himself a suit that makes Robocop look like sissy." Erm, if you read that and feel old, you're with me.

*Which reminds me, I have a +1 to the show since Photogal will be off at a political fundraiser. Who wants in?

Green shoots in a TV wasteland.

Green shoots in a TV wasteland.

As the Writer's Strike drains the schedule -- and believe me, I'm totally on the writers' side on this one -- I'm happy to have stuff like last week's Tin Man (mmmmm, Zooey Deschanel) to occupy my time.

While that was a neat little retooling of The Wizard of Oz, the one show I'm most excited to see begins tonight with the launch of the second season of Life On Mars. If you haven't seen this show, and are bumming about the current flood of reruns and reality fare.

Oh, almost forgot about another bright spot this holiday season; last night's Holiday Special with Queens of the Stone Age and Anthony Bourdain. Finally, a family cooking show I can say I really enjoyed.

How to book a rock and/or roll show with a fellow promoter (edited for clarity).

How to book a rock and/or roll show with a fellow promoter (edited for clarity).

Superbird and I are co-promoting a show (that just so happens to feature both of our bands) at Subterranean on December 28. I secured the show, but she took care of most of the bill once I asked her band to join in. Here's how it went.

Superbird: [redacted ... having to do with boring music journo-type stuff only interesting to the two of us]
Tankboy: if yr gonna parse my phrases that finely, i am getting in my car, driving up north, and slapping the silly out of you.
Superbird: you want to play first or second?
Tankboy: depends on the 4th band, i want you on after us though
Superbird: ok cool.
Tankboy: i'll book a 4th over the weekend
Superbird: who are you thinking?
Tankboy: no idea ... kinda waiting to see who shows up at tonight's show, since different combos of people often help me think of good band pairs on bills
Superbird: excellent
Tankboy: it's kind of like dowsing, only with whiskey
Superbird: you're lame
Tankboy: ok that wasn't even really funny

And that, my friends, is how the professionals do it.

Not quite Bloom County or Calvin and Hobbes, but still pretty damn promising.

Not quite Bloom County or Calvin and Hobbes, but still pretty damn promising.

xkcd continues to blow my mind with astoundingly funny work that still manages to reveal complicated truths about the human condition using nothing more than stick figures. Today's comic is especially funny.


(As always, click on the image for a larger view.)

A Sweetheart of an addendum to the post below.

A Sweetheart of an addendum to the post below.

It appears Keep has posted a whole slew of America's #1 Sweetheart songs (both complete and current demos) for your listening and download pleasure. Keep in mind some of them are early recordings of songs that are now far more polished, but they all rather hott. And ready for your iPod / CD-player / computer-with-a-mini-boomin'-bass system.

The heart of rock and roll is the beat.

The heart of rock and roll is the beat.

How was Friday night's America's #1 Sweetheart show? Kind of like this.*


So even though the gal pictured was not actually at the show, that pose pretty much says it all. To be honest, we had our share of snafus. I know I made two big boo-boos, but think I recovered decently from them. And we were all a tad wobbly from time to time, but I'm reasonably sure that was due to the amount of alcohol imbibed before we finally got onstage. One of the nice things about being in a band, though, is that if you're the one that's a tad wobbly at a certain time, you have four other guys there ready to pull in the slack. Also, earlier in the night, things were getting seriously weird between venue, promoter staff, and one of the other bands ... so there was a fair amount of tension and it seemed said tension was dealt with numerous beers and a couple shots.**

The important thing, though, is that it seemed everyone in the room for our set enjoyed themselves. And I know I've never seen the other guys in the band more animated, so I think it's fair to say we were having a hell of a lot of fun too! And heck, rock and/or roll is always far less about precision and far more of bringing the crowd along with you for the ride. I think we did do a good job on that front.

Afterwards we all bolted (my apologies to the really nice drummer in the band I shall not name who played after us (and don't bother looking at the line-up I posted a few days ago since the running order got completely changed, so you're not going to figure out who it was), but we really don't like your lead singer, so we felt no compunction to stick around). However, I feel we made up for it karmically by telling the promoter to take whatever money we made and to then give it to the touring band.

That's how we rock it.


*Sorry Diana, I came across this photo in your hubby's online album and couldn't resist using it.
**To see what we're like when not drunk, and firing on all cylinders, and -- most importantly -- playing in a room with a monitor system that allows us to actually hear what each other is playing, we'll be at Subterranean December 28 with good friends Snd On Snd, as well as a few other veddy veddy talented groups. I should have the full line-up ready for release later today.

Year of the Perdue Wonderchicken

Year of the Perdue Wonderchicken

First, some business. America's #1 Sweetheart is playing Ronny's tonight with a bunch of other bands.

We go on third, but I won't tell you what time that is, because people that go to shows should try and see all the bands (unless they are a music writer that has multiple shows to hit in one night, in which case they should have either already seen, or will be making a future effort to see, the other bands on the bill).

Since we're playing later in the evening, that means we'll be drunker, and that means ENTERTAINMENT! Said entertainment may include spontaneous bouts of nudity (but I promise to keep my own shirt and pants on, 'cuz no one wants to see me naked)!

And now, some bullet points with a couple random Friday observations.*

• The fact that Kiefer Sutherland acts like a drunken fool is a-ok with me, especially when he takes responsibility for his more inane activities instead of trying to weasel out of jail time like most other celebs. Still waiting for him to show back up at Liar's Club so we can do the worm together since I missed it the first time around.
• Jennifer love Hewitt, whom I've had a crush on since Party Of Five, even though said crush has been sorely tested by her parade of idiotic boyfriends and insipid acting roles, is not even remotely fat. And Steve Johnson is still an asshole without a clue.
• I bet Drew Peterson is starting to have problems sleeping at night ... finally.
• Bush finds a whole new way to fuck up the economy.
• Emergenza is a ripoff.
• Those year-end list are flying around the Interwebs in a fast and furious fashion. I haven't even started mine yet and, honestly, am having a hard time picking out my top 20 or so albums from 2007. I do know what the best show I saw was, though, and am happy to have a recorded document of a different date on the same tour. It brings back all the happy musical memories of that night.
  

SIDENOTE: The photo connected to this post is of my friend Alison. Some might think she has absolutely nothing to do with the above content, but in fact, she does. I met Alison on my 30th birthday through a good friend named Freud ... a genius of a guy who played bass in one of my favorite bands at the time ... America's #1 Sweetheart. And the circle continues.

*More accurately, though this should be apparent if you've already read the bullet points, these observations happen to be made on a Friday, and are not about Friday itself.

Mutable features.

Mutable features.

I have recently been told I look like the following people. Let's have a little fun, review a few of them, break 'em down and do a little analysis.

Dierks Bentley
I had no idea who this guy was (he's a country singer), but after seeing photos of him I can a) understand why someone would see a resemblance and b) now know why people stare at me in Michigan and whisper when I walk by. Apparently they think I am he. Yet it still hasn't gotten me so much as a free ice cream cone!

Christian Bale
This one came Thanksgiving night at Liar's, and I thought the girl was high, until Balls looked at me and said, "You know, I wouldn't have thought it myself, but I can sort of see it." In that case, can I get myself a set of Bale pecs and abs too please?

James Hetfield
I don't have his bad skin, but i could understand why someone would see this as well, especially since he and I have goatees. Believe me when I say that this comparison has almost caused me to shave the entire topography of my face down to the skin though.

Beck
I think it's the blonde hair and combination babyface with masculine features that got this comparison. I like to think I look a bit more solidly sturdy than Beck though.

Brad Pitt
This one came from a cashier at Starbucks who obviously needed her vision checked. I appreciate a compliment as much as the next guy, but let's at least make it semi- believable!

Brendan Benson
Face it, dude stole me whole look at last year's Lollapalooza. And we both sweat alot, so fair enough on this one too. Although if you've ever seen him up close you'd realize that we, in fact, look nothing alike.

A lion.
This observation came after seeing this photo, where it looks as if I'm about to eat Keep's head. O.K., I can see the resemblance there.

Sissy Spacek
O.K., this one isn't so recent, but one girl in college thought that, with my really long hair and tall-n-lean 22-yr-old physique, I looked like Sissy Spacek from a distance. Further proof that our appearance isn't something really all that solid and physical, since when it comes to the way other people actually see us, there's a whole lot of other factors influencing their mental vision.

JUST ADDED: Josh Homme
I just got this from Julie in the comments and remembered my old friend Natalie had made the same observation last week. Again, I sort of see it in how we're built (tall, similar hair color, etc.) but having stood next to the dude I have problems seeing the similarity. Although if we do look similar, that would explain why Photogal has put up with me for so long.

Have any observations of your own? About how I look? Or better yet, people you've been told you resemble?

Obligatory fun time.

Obligatory fun time.

Mark from Farewell Captain will be guesting with JB at Liar's Club tonight (who is, oddly, DJing under a new nom de guerre, for one week only) although I honestly don't know which one is Shade and which one is Fraud.


Also, don't forget my own band plays at Ronnys tomorrow. More on that later, but mark your calendar now!

Photographic observations.

Photographic observations.

I think I've had more photos taken of me in the last 4 weeks than have been taken of me in the last 4 years. I have also noticed that many of these photos have a single unifying figure within them, aside from me. For instance, take this shot from last night's Panic! party.


And who is that standing next to the dumbass 19-year-old in the Tones On Tail shirt? It's Keep!
You know that old song "Elvis is everywhere?" Screw that, it should be "Keep is everywhere!"

Winter shutdown.

Winter shutdown.

So much I want to write about, but not publicly, yet. Things like how I'm surprised that the dumbass 19-year-old I was can still resurface and try and do things like climb the sides of buildings (metaphorically) or try and eat other guys' faces (literally). Sometimes I wonder if it's all about shock value or if it's really about pushing things as far as they can go before everything starts to buckle, snap, break, and ricochet all around you.

But fuck it, let's not center on the negative this morning. Let's focus on the positive. And what breaks a funk better than a fine tune, and the thought that someone you know, and like, and respect (because if you're reading this, and spending time with my words, you fit that profile) is enjoying the same song, at the same time, as you are.

I was going to go for irony to begin with, but instead decided to dust off a classic psychedelic gem that at the time was viewed as a band* playing a massive practical joke, but as time progressed that joke turned out to be an act of sincere devotion to a bygone time and a mind-expanding genre.

MP3: The Dukes Of Stratosphear "My Love Explodes"


P.S. Make sure you listen to the spoken coda. It used to crack me up so much when I was in high school, and I still repeat it to this day, even though about 0.0002% of the people I say it to have the slightest clue what I'm talking about.

P.P.S. Click on the picture of the cats. Trust me. Just do it.

*On the off chance you don't know, and I suppose no one more than 5 years younger than I would have any reason to, the band in question (a.k.a. the voices and instruments behind The Dukes Of Stratosphear) is XTC.

Achy.

Achy.

Yesterday I noticed my muscles were feeling like I had just done a ten-mile run, but I hadn't been to the gym all weekend. This morning my left shoulder is feeling funky and I'm still super-achy. I was starting to worry that maybe I was displaying early signs of Hodgkin's (which is the sort of thing one immediately assumes when one of your best friends had cancer as a teenager) but I think that was, perhaps, an incorrect early diagnosis.

No, I just remembered I got a flu shot Friday, so these must be the after-effects, which actually makes me start to wonder. Last year was the first time I ever got a flu shot, snce my company pays for them I decided what the heck, why not get one, and last year was the first time in forever I actually got the flu.

Come to think of it, I was just miserably sick a lot in general. Which, by the way, never used to happen. This year I get the show and no sooner do I stop bragging about zero side-effects received from said shot than many side-effects settle in for a winter nap.

I'm all for preventative medicine, but aren't you supposed to utilize it to keep from feeling cruddy?

Erm, um, yeah.

Erm, um, yeah.

So this is how Saturday began.


And this is how it ended.


The end.

Wotta douchebag.

Wotta douchebag.

So I wrote this piece in response to a column in last week's RedEye.

This idiot wrote 500+ words basically saying that girls should be hot if they expect dudes to want to date them. And then he made an aside insinuating that ugly girls did still stand a slight chance if they could make up for their looks with personality. Needless to say I called him out on his bullshit.

End of story, right? Wrong. No, this guy proceeds to MySpace message my EiC, and attack her, for a column I wrote. (O.K., O.K., she did call him a fucking idiot in the comments under my post, but to be fair, he is a fucking idiot.).

So let me get this straight. You're a columnist for a local fish wrapper, you write a misogynistic rant, a dude at another site writes something in response, so you decide to attack his female editor? How does that compute, exactly?

If I told you about my weekend you just wouldn't believe me.

If I told you about my weekend you just wouldn't believe me.

It was that much fun. I think I saw just about everyone I know at some point (Thurs-Sun), whiskey-soaked raging evil-twin Tankboy was scarring people on Friday, and The Assembly XXXX-mas party last night was so gay it was awesome (plus, Eric's pad is SWEET!).

And total hats-off (but not pants-off) to Pee Pee for the automotive rescue ferry out of the depths of Pilsen last night. Though dude, you could have stopped me from taking my shirt off at The Continental!

So, do we have ANOTHER birthday to celebrate tonight (and then ANOTHER tomorrow?)? Are you people trying to kill me?

Yeah, sweartagod this ain't just a space for posting fliers.

Yeah, sweartagod this ain't just a space for posting fliers.

But tonight, unless you were lucky enough to get invited to THE holiday party of the season (you weren't), this is where you should go.


Also, did Keep make out with me last night? I think he tried but I can't remember if I reciprocated.

I'm learning, I'm learning!