...but I want nothing this society’s got
I’m going underground
Apparently this song, which they use as the lead-in to the first hour of the terrible, terrible Majority Report on Air America, is by The Jam. This is a great song; I've been listening to it and others on my own personal 'The Jam' radio station on Pandora.com. I wouldn't have known who it was by if if I hadn't come to Emma's friend Khalil's DJ debut on Saturday at the Laila Lounge in Williamsburg, no easy task, considering it was the gorram end of the world out there. I aimed to hop the G at Smith & 9th, 'cept the F was skipping to Jay, and... fuck it, it's a boring story. But here's a thing that happened on the F train I was on that got it stuck in the station for an extra 15 minutes:
A bunch of what I can only describe as Brooklyn townies -- chubby white kids in backwards baseball caps and sports jerseys, their faces so squished by cheek fat that they squinted -- were horsing around in the last car of the train, where I was, and one of them gives another a shove that sends him stumbling up against the smoked glass window in the door to the conductor's booth. To everyone's surprise, the plate of glass just falls out of the frame, revealing that the booth is empty. After recovering from the shock ("Yo, I think my ribs is broken! This kid broke my ribs, son!"), they begin to hatch a plan:
"Does the intercom work? Get on the intercom and say some shit!"
"Say 'This is a soul train to Queens.'"
"Hahaha soul train!"
So yeah, one of the little creepuses turned on the intercom and muttered something about that train being, in fact, The Soul Train, amid much tittering and gibbering. When the train pulled into Jay St., the doors opened briefly and the perps ducked out, carrying the glass from the window with them ("I'm'a hang this up in my room, son!"). So did I, and after the doors closed a second later, I saw a pathetic-looking MTA official wearing orthopedic shoes and those goggle-style coke-bottle glasses hobbling frantically towards that last car.
Fuck, it's cold outside. Am I right?
I gotta get a new toaster oven. The one I've got now is the one my dad bought me as a graduation present, and about which he said something like, "This is the Rolls-Royce of toaster ovens, Julian" -- typical dad B.S. It's a fine toaster-oven, though, except that ever since I moved into this place, the goddamn door won't stay shut. Something about the spring and the expansion of the frame when the toaster gets hot, I don't know; you can force the door closed at the beginning -- it makes a terrible cracking noise -- but then it bursts open like half way through the toasting cycle.
The Rase and I have now watched the whole of Firefly. I'm a little depressed that there's no more of it, because the more I watched, the more I loved it. Creepy synchronicity: Both The Rase and I loved Jayne Cobb, hated all the women on the show. Well, that's not true; that Saffron chick was kind of cute, if a pain in the ass.
Here's a thing that happened to a friend of mine (name redacted to protect the guilty): We were walking around my neighborhood, shopping for an ashtray for this friend's apartment, and at this friend's request, we stopped at this little tchotchke boutique on 10th and 7th called Toto, that was obviously not going to have anything like an ashtray. Nonetheless, my friend asks for one, and the shopkeeper manages to locate a very nice cheap little bowl that really didn't deserve to be used as an ashtray. As she's ringing us out, she says, "...no, I'm not going to say anything; you know what I'm going to tell you." My friend turns to me and says, perhaps a little more snottily than necessary, "What'd I tell you? Everybody does this: 'I'm not going to say anything, but you know you're not supposed to smoke.'" The shopkeeper becomes visibly flustered and says, "Well, it's a little different for me... you see, my father and brother died from smoking-related illnesses." And with that, she begins to cry a little bit. Jesus Christ. Deep inside, you know you're him.
3 comments:
Isn't that Saffron chick SOOOOOOOO hot? Well, I guess you called her "kind of cute", but red hair, tits, and mercenary for me equals SOOOOOOOO hot.
I grew to like Kaylee (after "Out of Gas"...think the sex in the engine room had anything to do with it?), and I think Inara is really stunning, if a bit distant. River could get tossed out the airlock and I wouldn't mind terribly. Zoe is capable and fairly uninteresting.
Jayne and Mal are awesome, and while I find Wash annoying much of the time, he does make me laugh sometimes. I like Simon for his devotion to his sister, but think he'd be kinda dull to hang with, and Book...goddamn, what was with that part where he scared River with his loose hair? That was retarded. Fucking retarded.
I've always felt that the actress playing Kaylee is ill-suited to the part. Or she/the character just plain sucks. "Out of Gas" is a pretty great episode, though. Inara's way too self-possessed to be appealing, and Zoe's hot but has about zero personality. I actually think River is pretty cute.
Wash is gay. Simon's pretty gay, too, but I started to like him towards the end of the series. And that bit with Book's hair is off the hook, brah -- I loved it! So.
I thought Kaylee was kind of uninteresting for most of the run, but I really liked her part in "Objects in Space" where the assassin dude was threatening her with all kinds of rape. Her vulnerability seemed very real to me. The worst bit with her was that episode where the young soldier pretended to be dead and was wooing Kaylee later when she was pissed with Simon. I didn't buy that shit at all, but I think that was more the writing than her.
Oh, but Inara crying during "Heart of Gold" was pretty damn sweet, and I was actually thinking, "Yeah, Mal, make her bring her feelings to the surface (by screwing that chick)." It was about time she really demonstrated some kind of strong emotion.
Ugh, you liked that Book part? Contrarian.
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