The Execution of All Things

Excuse me while I squee: tonight's the big Rilo Kiley show at the Abbey! People, this may be the best band you've never seen. Their live shows are even more electrifying than their albums, thanks in large part to the hyper-magnetism of lead singer Jenny Lewis. (NOTE FROM FREDBECK: she has a great rack.) So if you're not going tonight (Dana, I'm looking at you) then clearly you were dropped on your head as a child and no one loves you. Also, you have BO.

Jenny Lewis, star of the feature film "Troop Beverly Hills"


Listen up: Rilo Kiley, "Portions for Foxes"

Oh yeah, unless you're going to see Rachael Yamagata and Tom McRae at the Metro. Then you're still a tiny bit cool. But not a lot, XRT.

What's drunk and 4 feet tall?

A bunch of kids in Virginia, apparently.

According to the Smoking Gun, an elementary school cafeteria accidentally served children booze for lunch.

Aw, little Suzy's first hangover. How adorable!


Song of the day: "Bouncing Off the Walls Again" Sugarcult

Michigan Guy Brings the Crazy

Last night's phone conversation was seventeen kinds of wrong:

TEQUILA RED: This really isn't working for me anymore.

MICHIGAN GUY: What isn't?

TEQUILA RED: This ... whatever it is. This dating thing. I mean, we're not even in the same state.

MICHIGAN GUY: But I'm moving there! You know, at some point.

TEQUILA RED: Yeah, but even if you lived here … I just don't think so.

MICHIGAN GUY: What if you could date other people until I get there?

TEQUILA RED: I am dating other people. I'm just not actually dating you.

MICHIGAN GUY: Then I can date other people too! I slept with my ex-girlfriend, by the way.

TEQUILA RED: Whatever. Listen, what I'm trying to say is, this whole thing is over.

MICHIGAN GUY: Wait. You want to break up?

TEQUILA RED: YES.

MICHIGAN GUY: But… but I'm moving there! Are you dating someone else?

TEQUILA RED: Yes. And I don't want to date you.

MICHIGAN GUY: You don't?

TEQUILA RED: No. Other people. Not you.

MICHIGAN GUY: Oh.

TEQUILA RED: Yeah.

MICHIGAN GUY: So who are you dating?

TEQUILA RED: Just ... people. Don't worry about it.

MICHIGAN GUY: This relationship should be built on trust. You have to be able to tell me things.

TEQUILA RED: What relationship? THERE IS NO RELATIONSHIP.

MICHIGAN GUY: Because we're breaking up.

TEQUILA RED: Right.

MICHIGAN GUY: Okay. We're breaking up. But you should know I'm only doing this because I care about you.

TEQUILA RED: ...?

MICHIGAN GUY: And you can call me whenever you want. I'm not just saying that to be nice, either.

TEQUILA RED: How big of you.

MICHIGAN GUY: Because I think you're great. This just isn't working out. I hope you're not too hurt.

TEQUILA RED: I think I'll be okay.

MICHIGAN GUY: That's good. I'm not trying to hurt you. We're just not in the same place right now.

TEQUILA RED: Clearly.

MICHIGAN GUY: But when I move there, then maybe….

TEQUILA RED: No.

MICHIGAN GUY: Right. Definitely not. You're not too hurt though, right?

TEQUILA RED: I'll get over it.

MICHIGAN GUY: Okay. That's good. I'm really sorry to do this.

TEQUILA RED: That's okay.

MICHIGAN GUY: You're very special.

TEQUILA RED: Thanks.

MICHIGAN GUY: So... How's your cat?

TEQUILA RED: I have to go now.

MICHIGAN GUY: Okay... well, let's talk soon then. Okay? Okay? Hello?

*click*

a wink and a smile

Apparently the world is going to end tomorrow.

I think I just found a new job.

Jesus wants to tell you something.

Creepiest MC ever.
Click here and scroll down to the Red Line Winker & Smiler. Yikes.

Cutest song by someone you've never heard of: Kevin Devine "I'm Not Over You Yet"

Brit Brit does more crazy shit.


I know I'm shocked.

I need a babysitter

Ben Lee
Schubas Tavern
3159 N. Southport
tonight
9pm/21+
$12

w/ Pony Up

Ben Lee "Please Don't Leave"

Any takers? Wendi? Fredbeck?

Go see a show, why don't you

Kooky indie-pop whimsykittens Of Montreal are playing at Schubas tonight.



Schubas
9/27/2004 - 9:00pm
Of Montreal
with Andrew Morgan, The Late B.P. Helium and Dave Strackany
$8.00

I'm telling you, they're really good. But fine, whatever, don't take my word for it or anything.

"Spoonful of Sugar"

"Disconnect the Dots"

"Sad Love"

"Lysergic Bliss"

A Saturday in September

It was the perfect Saturday morning for driving. My sister and I flew beside Lake Michigan with the wind whipping through our hair and the radio blaring songs from 1992 (junior year of high school, when I was cool enough to wear doc martens and loser enough to date a freshman). We smoked cigarettes and sang along with the Lemonheads and the Cure and Meryn Cadell at the top of our lungs, gesturing for truckers to honk their air horns, laughing like maniacs when they did.

It was the perfect Saturday afternoon for football. 75 sunny degrees. 80,000 jubilant fans on their feet, showering adoration on the home team. Touchdown after touchdown, the frenzy gained speed. We never wanted to stop cheering. The wave rolled around the stadium again and again without stopping. A second wave started in the opposite direction, and they crossed and re-crossed beneath the approving gaze and upstretched arms of Jesus Himself. As time ticked down, the joy of the crowd swelled and spilled over the edge of the stadium like liquid, carrying us home.

It was the perfect Saturday night for music. The four of us, the four who've been together since the beginning, stood out in the clear night air listening to the soundtrack of my father's youth. In the barn, there were new puppies. Beside my brother, a bride. On the old 8 track, Crosby Stills and Nash sang about teaching children well, and my father smiled. Just look at them and sigh and know they love you.

It was the perfect Saturday.

Crosby Stills & Nash "Teach Your Children"
The Lemonheads "Mrs. Robinson"


Wendi answers the question, "WWJD?"

put on your most ironic tee

Open auditions for the role of Boyfriend will be held tonight at hipster heaven The Hideout. To be considered you must have opposable thumbs, consistently go to a place called "your job," and enjoy more than a passing acquaintance with dental floss. A pulse is also encouraged but not required.

Note: Those with goatees not eligible.

The Hideout Block Party 2004
Friday, September 24
8:30 Califone
9:15 Marah

Marah "Going Through the Motions"

Beware the Maurading Band of Cheerleaders

Tuesday at Penn State, perkiness took an ugly turn.

6 Things I Don't Remember

1. How I got home last night.

2. The number and variety of beverages consumed in the past 24 hours.

3. The number and variety of things smoked in the past 24 hours.

4. The number and variety of people kissed in the past 24 hours.

5. Why there was a lime in my purse this morning, but no money.

6. What the hell happened to Pete Yorn.

music for the sobriety-challenged:
Bishop Allen "Little Black Ache"
The Frames "Lay Me Down"
Pete Yorn "Just Another"

Reason #549 Why I Am Uncool

Last night, I stayed up to watch the late re-run of Oprah (that would be #546) because Greg Behrendt was a guest (that I know who Greg Behrendt is? #547). See, Greg's written this little book... maybe you've heard of it?



Apparently every woman in America is toting this book around in her Kate Spade purse. Oprah sleeps with it under her pillow, I'm pretty sure. That alone makes it mock-worthy, right?

Except the first thing I did this morning was order that fucking book on Amazon (#548).

See, for the past year, I've been pining away for this guy. Let's call him The Ferrari. I'm not actually with The Ferrari; in fact, The Ferrari is with someone else. Let's call her The Gremlin. Still, every day I half-expect to get a phone call or an email from The Ferrari saying he's ready for a trade-in ... a call or email that never comes, of course. Greg says this means something. Namely, HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO ME.

Um, yeah, duh, right? But honest to god, I never really got it until the wise Greg spelled it out to me and the rest of Oprah's similarly-deluded minions (and there's #549). I needed to hear someone say, "Stop making excuses for him. If he wanted you, he'd be here." Again DUH, but, damn, I'm the queen of sitting around with my girlfriends and rationalizing and making excuses and trying to figure out what it "really means."

But my new best pal Oprah and I say fuck that shit. Greg thinks we can do better, and he's right. Man, I can't wait for my new book to get here.

Now, who wants to go to Kate Spade?

Thursday "yeah, you knew better" music:
Ani DiFranco "Untouchable Face"

Matthew Sweet "Sick of Myself"

The Truth Comes Out

I have a growing obsession with the band The Butchies. Not their music, even though it will rock the pictures right off the wall, it's that effing great. No, I'm obsessed with them. In a seriously-contemplating-switching-teams sort of way. I'm more attracted to these three grrls than 98% of the men in the world. I mean, look at them.



So if you need me tonight, I'll be at Schubas. In the front row. With my phone number written across my chest in lipstick.

I'm going lez.

The Butchies @ Schubas
tonight, 8 PM
$10

Listen and love my new girlfriends. The Butchies "Huh Huh Hear"

Who needs money for groceries?

I think I might love these shoes more than my own children.

On the fringe

Every morning my bangs get shorter. I cannot stop cutting them. What's wrong with me? They look like they've been gnawed off by a gerbil. I was going for cute and choppy but now they're too short. Or maybe too even. They won't hold still long enough for me to tell. I'm pretending this is my who-gives-a-shit-about-hair indie chick look, but really it's just a re-run of the unfortunate haircut I had when I was seven. Someone hand me the scissors.

This just in: America's patron skank Paris Hilton used to look human. Cute, even.

I must own this shirt immediately:



Tuesday's song to chair dance to: "All Girl Summer Fun Band, "Jason Lee".

The best thing posted on CL today

This is serious, people.

And so it begins

I'm not the last person in the world to get one of these here blog thingees (hi Wendi!) but still, I'm a little ashamed to be coming in this late in the game. It's like when you see everyone wearing Uggs and you decide to get some too but then you have to get on a looooong-ass waiting list and by the time you FINALLY get your hands on a pair, you walk outside and realize the only people wearing them are trophy wives from Winnetka and Britney Spears. Fine, bad example, because all the cool kids are still blogging (hi Jenna!), and some of them are still coveting Uggs (hi Michelle!) so whatever, just forget I said anything, okay?

Hey, remember the time I took my shirt off in the bathroom of the bar and it fell in the toilet? And somehow I was in the men's room, not the ladies'? Ah, July was fun.

Monday Music: Tegan and Sara "I know, I know"