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I hope those of you in Massachusetts, Maine, and Wisconsin enjoyed a nice long weekend. The rest of you can suck it.
As for me, I made the mistake of scheduling a rehearsal at 6pm on Marathon Monday, prompting several of my band members to show up shitcan hammered. An actual comment from a shirtless Nate: "You know, I really think I should take off my pants. It's hot in here. Don't you think I should take off my pants?"
Luckily, this Thursday all the band members will be (hopefully) fully clothed and ready to rock at O'Brien's. It's the final night of the Harris residency featuring Aloud (whose new album fucking rocks) and Jen Murdza (who's really pretty).
It's THIS THURSDAY, friends! Don't miss this show! Exclamation points numbers three, four, five, and six!!!!4.23.08
Tomorrow night at O'Brien's in Allston, it's the final night of the Harris
residency. All of the previous nights of the residency have sold out. We expect tomorrow night to be no different, despite the fact that some people may be driven away by the fact Henry from Aloud
smells like a unique mix of rim jobs and failure.
We are absolutely psyched to be sharing the stage with Harris and Aloud (I guess) again, as they have been our dear friends for many years now. In fact, when Harris was putting together this residency several months ago, they asked us to be a part of it even though they'd never even heard the new band. We're fixing to make sure they never make that mistake again.
So be sure to get there early tomorrow night. Good friends, good tunes, and cheap beer. What more could you ask for on a Thursday night in Allston? 4.24.08
To quote Danny DeVito in a certain underrated buddy movie classic "Tonight is your night, bro."
It's all happening tonight at O'Brien's - Harris
, Jen Murdza
and us. These shows have been selling out, so get there early if you don't want to miss out. Doors are at 8, I believe.
And if you haven't heard it yet, check out week four of the Harris Podcast
. Spoiler alert: they absolutely DESTROY me.
See you all tonight, chumps!4.25.08
Wow - what a special night at O'Brien's last night. Any time we're lucky enough to play with Harris and Aloud, it's not just a show - it feels like a family reunion. Jen Murdza
was terrific and very sweet and her guitarist smokes stogies. Aloud
was amazing, tour-tightened, and their drummer is suddenly a lecherous alcoholic. Harris
was predictably stellar and even covered a Scamper song.
Thanks to everyone for coming out and supporting us as well as the other bands. It was the best we've felt after a show in the short but glorious history of the Brendan Boogie Band.
If you don't want to stop the rock, be sure to stop by the WBCN Rumble Finals tonight at Harper's Ferry. In a rare anomaly, all the bands are actually good this year.
Apologies for the unexpected radio silence yesterday, my little tax evaders.
This weekend, I attended my niece's first birthday party. At one point, I was in charge of watching her while the boring grown-ups talked about boring grown-up things like Barack Obama and shaving. As my niecey-pants was drinking from her juice box, she decided it would be fun to turn it upside down and pour the juice all over herself. A good time, right? I thought so. My mom disagreed.
Mom: "Brendan, she's spilling juice all over herself."
Me: "Yeah, I can see that."
Mom: "No, stop her."
Against my better judgment, I broke my vow to be the "no rules" uncle and took the juice box away from her. And what happened? Tears and wailing. Now, my mom thinks she was upset because her arm was all wet and sticky from juice, but if you ask me the little girl was just upset that her formerly favorite uncle decided to go along with the "don't spill juice on your self" establishment. Another hero falls.
As revenge, the little jerk got me sick. Babies, while unabashedly cute, are also deadly little germ machines. Beware. They will lure you in with their kissable cheeks and then infect you with viruses that would make Daisy from Rock of Love 2 blush.
Speaking of which, I have officially picked the winner of Rock of Love in both seasons from the very first episode. I'm not sure how I feel about the fact that apparently Bret Michaels and I have the exact same taste in skanks.
If you have the opportunity to watch the new VH1 hip hop competition show Miss Rap Supreme with your mom, I strongly suggest doing so. It adds a whole new level of entertainment to the program.
My mom: "Do you understand what they're saying?"
Me: "Yeah, usually."
My mom: "I have no idea what they're saying. It's like listening to baby talk. Ga ga goo goo bleep bleep goo. No idea."
As I was watching the Red Sox-Yankees game last night (and for the record, I fell asleep WAAAAAY before the game was over), I noticed an ad behind home plate that said "Yankees Banking."
I'm not exactly sure what this particular promotion entails, but I do know that it most certainly was given the wrong name. It should have been called "Yankees Bankees."
Yup. I've been pretty overtired lately.
Speaking of yankers, be sure to stop by O'Brien's tonight for night 3 of the Harris
residency. It will be a nice way to whet your appetite for the wetness of next Thursday's awesome show-show.
In addition to being the Northeast's foremost expert on zombie-related emergency planning, our boy Madden is also quite the web designer. Here is his mock-up for the new Brendan Boogie Band website:
Personally, I think misspelling the name was a particularly good touch. Have a nice long weekend, all.
Ok, I'm going to say it - I don't really care about the Sox-Yankees series this weekend. In fact, I'm not sure I care about the Sox-Yankees rivalry that much at all anymore.
Granted, I am MUCH happier to have lightened the load of hate I was carrying in my stomach for those pin-striped lucifers. Whereas a mere 4-5 years ago I was wishing death on Derek Jeter's unborn children, I actually have no feeling whatsoever toward the guy now. Good player, seems like a classy guy. Whatever - I've got my own problems.
Don't get me wrong - I still enjoy watching the Sox and Yankees play. But now, it's just for the baseball. There's no psychic baggage I carry with me. It has nothing to do with my childhood anymore. It's just a baseball game.
There was a time when I would work my schedule around baseball, just so I could know in my heart that I saw every pitch of every game when "the year" finally happened. This year, I had to be reminded the season had actually started by my dad. And he's 73! He remembers nothing!
Our resident evil Yankee fan Vinny Shit on the Face summed it up best:
"I just saw an 'I Don't Brake For Yankee Fans' bumper sticker and it made me sad and nostalgic. The rivalry has lost its vigor. It's like Exxon vs. Texaco now. Who cares?"4.10.08
Anyone want to tell me what happened in the last few innings of the Sox game last night? And, in fact, anything that happened post-10pm in the past, say, nine months?
At what point exactly did I turn into my grandfather? I get home and hop in the ol' recliner to watch some baseball and next thing I know it's Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz... Granted, earlier in the evening I chased a fifth of warm Ovaltine with an Ambien/horse tranquilizer cocktail. But still! Still, I say!
I'm a (relatively) young man in the prime of my life. What's with the Nap Monster coming to get me so much, huh?4.9.08
People will often come to me for karaoke advice. This is understandable, as I do currently hold a Master's Degree and third degree black belt in the karaoke arts. So I figured it was time to give you some basics on how to be the best karaokist you can be.
First off, karaoke success has nothing to do with how good a singer you happen to be. It's all about two words: song selection. The key is that you want to pick a song that most everyone knows, but hasn't heard in a long time. Ideally, the crowd reaction for your song should be an audible "Oh, yeah! I LOVE this song!" Everyone's enthusiasm for singing along with you will outweigh any of your vocal shortcomings.
Basically, don't go for a big hit that everyone hears all the time, such as Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'." A good song (of course), but WAY overplayed, especially since its excellent use in The Sopranos
finale. However - and I cannot emphasize this enough - you should not be afraid of singing a Journey song. "Separate Ways," "Wheel in the Sky," "Faithfully," hell, even a little solo Steve Perry "Oh, Sherry" works. Personally, I celebrate the band's entire catalog.
Of course, there are the obvious songs that no one on Earth wants to hear you sing, the most egregious of which are "Paradise By The Dashboard Light" and "Summer Lovin'" from Grease
. These are to be avoided at all costs. If one of these titles appears on the screen behind you, you deserve the audible groan you get from the audience. Only jerks sing those songs. Don't be a jerk.
Here’s a new one in that category: "Total Eclipse of the Heart" with the swears in it like in Old School
. Yes, it was funny... in that movie. You doing it? Not so much. You might as well get up there and do the "Wazzuuuuuup?" beer commercial thing while wearing a trucker cap with "I Have No Original Ideas" emblazoned across the front.
In short, you really can't go wrong with anything by Wham! Any questions?4.8.08
The jerkfaces over at Sports Illustrated totally cribbed my Cubs-Tigers World Series predictions. Of course, since they're the professional prognosticators, it probably means my instincts are way off, so I'm going to go ahead and revise my pick to a World Series comprised of a surprising Detroit Red Wings squad taking on a reunited Fleetwood Mac.
Today is the Red Sox home opener and I hope none of you are at work to read this. There's something special about the first time the local nine takes the field at historic Fenway Park every year. It's an almost mystical throwback to a time that’s both ancient and ageless. It's like we get to step into eternity. It's truly magical.
Oh, and we get to get blotzed on $7 Millers, swear in front of children, and throw batteries at Gary Sheffield. That guy's a dick. BAL-CO! BAL-CO! BAL-CO!
EDIT: I forgot to add - good luck to our buddy Johnny and his band Dirt Mall
at the BCN Rumble preliminaries tonight. Remember - third place is the BEST place.4.7.08
The sun is out, the Red Sox are getting swept in Toronto - it's starting to feel downright springy around here, isn't it friends? I can't wait to pull out my pink polyester culottes and tote around town all fancy-like.
I know, I know - you folks have been eagerly anticipating our big O'Brien's show with Harris
, and Jen Murdza
on Thursday April 24. But did you know that Harris is at O'Brien's every single Thursday this month? From what I hear (I was busy having my colon notarized), the first show was a kick-ass rocker full of sold-out awesomeness. The next few Thursdays are no exception, leading up to our sort of "Scamper's Last Waltz Reunion" with Jen Murdza playing the role of Baker.
I've said it before and I'll say it again - for my money, there's no better band in Boston than Harris. They're fantastic live and you should take this opportunity to see them weekly in a small venue. So do that.
Last Friday, it was time for more adventures in dentistry. This time, it was just a routine cleaning, so there was to be no pulling or gouging... or so I thought.
This seemingly nice young hygienist pulls out this seemingly harmless little device.
"What's that?" I ask innocently.
"It's the Cavitron," she responds.
"Can we rename it the Cavitron 5000?" I ask, trying to be cute. "It just sounds cooler."
But I don't think she heard me, as she was already elbow-deep in tender gum tissue. The Cavitron 5000 is, in a word, no fucking joke. Scraping, gouging - I felt like I was in a David Cronenberg movie.
"Your gums are really active," she commented.
"Well, they try to work out," I mumbled through a mouth full of suction equipment.
"They bleed so easily. I've never seen anything like it."
At this point, I had the rare opportunity to quote some 90's comedian (Bill Braudis, I believe) from a Dr. Katz episode:
"They weren't bleeding when I came in here. I'm pretty sure you're doing that."
Getting my snappy one-liners in was almost worth all the soft tissue irritation, except it wasn't at all. Not even a little.4.1.08
Happy April Fool's Day, jokesters. Here are a few of my rejected ideas for this year's prank:
- Tell you all that Keith had AIDS and then say "April Fools! Ha ha ha!" and then actually infect Keith with my HIV-covered needle weiner. (Only my weiner has HIV. The rest of me is fine.)
- Break into Ben Vereen's house and take a giant dump in the Zoobilee Zoo "Mayor Ben" outfit.
- Take a bunch of painkillers and punch myself in the nose until I look like Sarah Jessica Parker. Then, attend the Sex and the City movie premiere wearing some super-sexy Jimmy Choo's and Matthew Broderick's scalp as a pubic-hair toupee. (Note: this prank would involve some prep work, namely tracking down and scalping Matthew Broderick).
You'll admit - all hilarious ideas. But instead, I decided to do this. Which is nothing. Happy April Fool's!
PS - When I was looking up Ben Vereen's Zoobilee Zoo character on the Internet Movie Database
(this blog is painstakingly researched, as you can probably tell), one of the plot keywords was "Animal That Acts Human." That struck me as hilarious for some reason. Okay, carry on.4.2.08
Everyone recovered from those great April Fool's pranks? Personally, I have to spend $5000 to get the tattoo of my drummer's face removed from my inner thigh. Lesson learned: never accept a bloody Mary from Mike. There’s probably rohypnol in it. And too much pepper.
Good news - I won the last place booby prize in my office NCAA tournament pool, meaning I get my $5 ante back. Thank you. Thank you very much. It was just a formality - I actually had last place locked up midway through the second round. I actually found something at which I am worse than fantasy sports.
I had a rare day off this weekend and caught a few episodes of my new favorite TV show: Top Gear
on BBC America. Tremendously fun show. Do yourself a favor and check it out.
In one of the episodes I saw, the guys were flown to Botswana and given 1500 pounds (or "quid" to you Anglophiles) to buy non four-wheel drive used cars. Then, they drove the 3000 miles across the desert to see which car would survive in the best shape.
Okay, it's a lot more fun and exciting than it sounds. Top Gear
is my official Brendomendation for the week.4.3.08
For those of you that aren't just voyeurs and actually have MySpace accounts, you can go to "My Subscriptions" and have your little homepage thingy notify you every time I post on the old postspace thingy. Ain't technology a B?
Speaking of voyeurism and other things naughty, I was thinking the other day about the least sexy word in the English language. And yes, this is the sort of thing I spend my time thinking about instead of being productive at any one of my several jobs (By my last count, I'm a longshoreman, particle physicist, and international cad).
I thought long and I thought hard and I came up with the least sexy word in the language:
Ironic, no? Because burlesque is obviously supposed to be sexy. But may I just say one thing? Ew. When I even hear the word "burlesque," my man parts retreat back into my body, making them resemble lady parts.
I know, I know - it's not about me. It's all about gender politics and female empowerment and taking back your sexuality and really what lesbians find attractive. I'm not self-centered enough to think the entire spectrum of human sexuality revolves around what winks at my winky.
But still - that shit is gross. And it must be STOPPED.
The gauntlet has been thrown. And be careful "roller derby." You're on notice.4.4.08
Let's get into the way back machine, shall we? I present to you my lead guitarist and drummer... in the 80's.
As Nate pointed out - Mike still dresses, stands, and holds a drink exactly like that. It's genuinely eerie.
Speaking of getting old and decrepit, happy birthday to the Brendan Boogie Band's sister-in-law Alena Michel. You're still looking hot as the day we had that torrid affair behind Keith's back all those years ago, baby doll.
Okay, so I've given our little "where should I post" issue some thought and I think I've come up with an elegant solution. I know that a handful of you are limited as to your MySpace access, so here's a deal I'll make with you:My part of the deal:
Daily, I will continue to post exclusively over at www.myspace.com/brendanboogieband
. Then, every Friday, I will post the week's journal entries in one chunk on the Scampernet
. While you won't get your daily fix of boobage and jackassery, I wouldn't feel right about myself just leaving you hanging.Your part of the deal:
Shutting your yap-holes.
Deal? Done? Good.
All right, kids. It's time to cut the cord.
As you may have noticed for the past few months, I have been double posting on the Scamper
site and at the Brendan Boogie Band
site over on MySpace. It's been slightly annoying for me and a little confusing for you. It sounds weird, but I have gotten more than one "Where should I comment?" question.
From here on in, the blog will be exclusively on the MySpace page, so bookmark it now:www.myspace.com/brendanboogieband
It's your one-stop shop for all things me-related. But fret not - Nate is going to keep The Scene
alive and kicking over on the Scampernet for all your rock and roll needs. Rest assured - if there's any Scamper-significant shenanigans, you will be duly notified.
It's time for my fearless 2008 baseball predictions. Ladies, start your wagering. We'll start with the National League, about which I know next to nothing except that I think the pitcher batting is totally fruity.NL East: New York Mets.
I'm going to keep picking them to be good until they finally win. Then, I'm going with another pick. How edgy of me!NL Central: Chicago Cubs.
The Cubs spent roughly the GNP of Canada in the off season. If they don't win the division, we may have to question this whole "capitalism" thing.NL West: Arizona Diamondbacks.
Really? Do I have to pick a crap-ass winner of this crap-ass division?NL Wildcard: Milwaukee Brewers
. They're young, they're hungry, and they're named after beer. Go Brewers!
Now, on to some real DH-ridden steroid-lovin' baseball.AL East: Boston Red Sox
. I'm predicting monstrous years for Dice-K, Julio Lugo and (yes) J.D. Drew.AL Central: Detroit Tigers.
See Chicago Cubs re: capitalism. My perennial Cleveland pick finally came through last year, so I'm dropping them like a prom date with morals.AL West: Seattle Mariners.
This could actually be a tough division with the M's battling it out with the Angels. Still, I think the Wild Card is going to come out of the one true powerhouse division in baseball...AL Wild Card: New York Yankees.
Our resident Yankee fan Vinny Shit on the Face says they're in a "rebuilding year" and will probably miss the playoffs. He's so entirely full of feces on just about every level that I am forced by the power of logic to pick the Yankees to have a good year. Of course, winning the wild card wouldn't be considered a "good year" for these twisted Yankee fan sociopaths. Christ, I hate them.World Series pick:
I will go with the Cubs over the Tigers.
There you have it. Set your calendar for October to tell me how awesome I am.