A third attempt at this blogging business. |
MOB-RELATED ACTIVITY: Good day, kind readers. You can't hide from The Mob, even when The Mob tries to hide from you. Personally, I'm growing tired of the charade induced by this whole thing...I'm shiftless and aimless without proper direction. At least your boy Andre The Blog Monkey is in good hands today, getting a piano lesson with The Blogmother blainecindy. I myself am fighting off the urge to nap some. Don't be sleepin' on me! Even if I want to. BCF PROMPT: "Let's take a stroll down memory lane. Tell us about a comfort food that makes you feel nostalgic or sentimental when you eat it. Who made this special dish for you? Do you ever fix it for yourself if you are feeling blue?" Please, no, and never, right? I don't want to be a hostage endebited to particular food stuffs. But I won't front; the kid within me loves Spaghettios. With meatballs, or franks. No joke; they're amazingly tasty and simple on the budget when you have no budget to speak of. I'm also a sucker for Triscuits. The Sea Salt and Pepper originals run a close second to the Brown Rice, Tomato and Sweet Basil. If there were ever a "Thin Crisp" flavor, I'd be all over that. Crispy crackers with cheese and pepperoni? Hi, I'm here...where do I sign up? But my end-all-be-all comfort food is Bison French Onion chip dip. You can sweat a snowstorm 'til your pretty eyes bleed, but you'll never find something quite as taste-bud appealing as http://www.yelp.com/biz/bison-french-onion-dip-buffalo?ob=1. I'm mad lucky I have a store close enough that sells the Bison brand. and I don't have to scratch the Earth's surface to find it. There are many French onion chip dips out there, but there is only one made by Bison. Accept no substitute. MUSICAL BREAK!! ** Image ID #1970900 Unavailable ** Well, I've hit that snag in "The Soundtrack of Your Life" where it's become necessary to repeat an artist. I didn't think I'd have to (I've got a pretty good list going so far), but I can't think of a better tune today and I really don't feel like wasting time trying to. The simple rationale behind anyone's choice to name "Misunderstood" by Wilco (album: Being There {link:http://www.amazon.com/Being-There-Wilco/dp/B000002N7G/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1392754667&sr=8-1&keywords=Wilco+Being+There}; lyrics: http://songmeanings.com/songs/view/101487/) as one of their "biographical songs" would be too easy for anyone given just the title of the song. It's almost clichè for one to consider his or herself "misunderstood", but everyone has their reasons. Personally, I identify more with the poetry of the lyrics, and I have the outsider perspective that not everyone gets what you do or why you do it. The world chooses to see why you're not like everyone else as a downfall more often than not. It's a hard thing to try and reconcile with when that same world is screaming at you to be yourself. I'm glad I got to see Wilco live twice; they put on as good a show money can buy, and they're not the kind of band Buffalo normally attracts. They closed my first concert experience with them by playing "Misunderstood", and they punctuated the closing rant with "thank you" over and over instead of "nothing...nothing", which really added to the ambiance and significance of the evening. I've put this song on mix-tapes for friends and family members before, not only so they could experience different music they weren't accustomed to but to let them know they weren't alone in feeling not like everyone else. It validated my own feelings of alienation and personal separation from society's norms. "I'm ok, and so are you, whatever you are" was the major point. Whether or not this song has succeeded is not for me to judge. THE DAILY BOX SCORE: So I woke up this morning thinking "Gee, wouldn't it be great to have more snow?" and then hoping I'd damn-near faceplant while attempting to avoid a slush puddle during my daily romp. Stupid god-damned "good" ankle gave out on me while trying to cross an intersection. Sonofabitchin' thing hurts to stand on, not to mention the bruised ego that comes with wipin' out in front of traffic. My gloves still stink of snowy pavement and puddles. Yet I'm still trying to decide if it's hospital-worthy. A nap during the creation of this entry wasn't a good enough indicator, but crippling my way to the bathroom should be...I don't need another broken leg. Not now. Not today. Just when I think I'm ok with reppin' my hometown, this happens, and suddenly everyone is batshit crazy again: http://www.wgrz.com/story/news/local/2014/02/18/woman-charged-with-dwi-after-hit.... And then I'm kinda ok with this stuff: http://www.tickld.com/x/21-rules-that-men-have-number-7-is-so-true. So help me god, make the pain go away!! Dear ladies, gentlemen, and others who peruse this shit, please understand my not being WDC-relevant the next few days. Collapsing isn't in my daily planner. Peace, back in your old neighborhood, and GOODNIGHT NOW!! } |