Archive for November, 2010

Gobble Globble Glolbble!

November 27, 2010

Happy Belated Turkey Zay!

For all of you sitting at home, feeling anxious and irritable from the proximity of prying relatives and the over consumption of Turkey, Tofurkey, or Fofurkey, check out Tame Impala’s “Solitude is Bliss”. What better than a sweet music vid to take yr mind off the daunting conversation you had, tongue tied, trying to explain your path as an artist, only to fall on deaf ears of your second uncle once removed who’s mind has been hardened and tardened by countless years on the grind. If the video doesn’t work, try TM or chair pose.

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The Suburbs

November 22, 2010

Back when I had invisalign, and Blake was actually able to drive a car, we had dinner and played a show with these dudes at Tufts U. They even played “Headlights Look Like Diamonds” based on my request. After not having grown with them since “funeral”, I checked out the new burbs vid, and, yawto too!

Note: The video was actually directed by Spikes Brother, Mike Jones

Typical Conversation with Blake

November 4, 2010

Phone rings, caller reads “Blake.” I answer, “Hey Blake Lake, Zah?” Without a pause, Blake responds “Heymanlisten, do you have any incense in the house?” The quickness of his jive, and the bizarre nature of the question intrigue me. “Might be some downstairs in a cardboard case as long as a stick of incense, depicting Krishna in full lotus, text reading “incense stick”. Blake says, “Ok cool, ok actually I just found some up here, yeah cause the thing is I order some pizza last night, ya know? And I wanted to warm it up so I put the oven on low and I know the flame is on the bottom so I made sure not to put it near there and so I wanted to warm it up like they do in the pizza delivery boxes, the red ones they bring to your door. So I put the pizza in the oven (here it comes) inside the pizza box (!) and the whole thing caught on fire, and it was kind of unexpected cause the flame was so low and that’s never happened before cause I made sure to put it on the top oven rack, so yeah now the house smells a little bit like burning.”

Now, for most people, this would be very, very concerning, but in the case of Mr. B, it’s somehow excused. At this point my mind is laughing hysterically, but trying not to make him feel too bad, I explain “Yeah, I understand what you were trying to do, but just so you know, it’s an oven, and it cooks food at high temperatures using fire… and you surrounded your food with cardboard, an extremely flammable material… It’s all good man, but that’s unbelievable.” Blake continues to spit his rationale, as if this situation could possibly be written off as a common mistake.