Albuquerque

Wokka wokka doo doo yeah.

I suggest visiting the Albuqurque Holiday Inn, where you could eat soup out of the ashtrays if you wanted to. Just avoid the one-nostriled hermaphrodites.

St. Patrick the Great

And now, a word from our sponsor:

Beer.

By Psychostick.

I like beer 'cos it is good
I drink beer because I should
if there is a song to sing
I sing it and beer you bring
I drink beer when I am sad
'cuz the beer it makes me glad
now there's nothing left to say
so lets go drink beer

Beer is good
Beer is good
Beer is good
... and Stuff

Beer is good
Beer is good
Beer is good
let's go drink some BEER

BEER

when its warm it taste's real crappy
but cold beer will make me happy
when I throw up on the floor
I can go and drink some more
they say beer will make me dumb
it are go good with pizza
now that we have drunk some beer
lets go drive a car

Beer is good
Beer is good
Beer is good
....and stuff

Beer is good
Beer is good
Beer is good
let's go drink some BEER

Beer

uh dude.. I think you've had enough
...No

lets go drink some beer.

The Pod.

I'm getting cheap in my old age. I'm also beginning to see the point of view of rich, old white Republicans so intent on keeping their money.

Problem is, they also want to keep my money. So I'll remain a middle-of-the road, half- conservative half-liberal with independent tendencies.

I thought I wanted a big iPod with a million gig, but couldn't justify the $150 price. Then Marcy convinced me to go with a Shuffle, an $80 investment in making good on my $30 per month investment - that being the gym. So I took it home and put every song I could possibly have the slightest interest in hearing, and I still only half-filled it. No greater crime than wasted gig.

So this morning I left it playing a great tune - a Led Zepplin tune, and visit this link to understand my recent fascination with Robert Plant.

Here are the next ten songs.

"After the rain has fallen" - Sting

"Dazed and Confused" - Led Zepplin

Some song I don't know the title of - Led Zepplin

"Albuquerque" - Weird Al Yankovic

Another song I don't know the title of - Led Zepplin

"No Diggity" - Blackstreet

"Doorbell" - The White Stripes

"It's not over" - Daughtry

"Tell me Ma" - The Chieftans with Brak

"Englishman in New York" - Sting

The weird thing is, I have three songs by Sting on the whole stinkin' thing.

Are you gettin' it?

Yes Armageddon it.

That song's playing on Marcy's iPod, which is plugged into the stereo, which is playing in the background as I talk to my sister on speakerphone so I can make plans for dinner later, which will likely entail some form of pork product and beer as we watch the Academy Awards and hope that Cate Blanchett wins an award for something in Elizabeth: The Golden Age because that's really one of the few nominated flicks I've sen this year.

So like I said:

Armageddon it.

Wife, cat.

Oh, and Paul Simon. Forgot to mention that.

So to recap, that's wife, cat, Paul Simon.

Add to that some Metroid Prime 3 and beer (Dogfish Head Indian Brown), and that's quite a night at the ol' Mahoney household.

My apologies.

Grady wanted to post a reply to my rant about Rochester radio, in which I slight the city I called home for 10 years. But it got a little long, so here's a link to Grady's rebuttal.

Crap radio be gone!

So it's been over a year since Marcy and I moved from a relative cultural prairie, that being Rochester, N.Y., to a deep pool of knowledge and culture, that being Boston.

That made it all the more strange when Marcy and I tried to locate ONE good classical station here.

Then she told me WXXI, the Rochester classical station, broadcasts streaming audio. I spent the large part of my morning today listening to all manner of classical stuff.

The problem I have with classical stations is when they're run like a different format. Take classic rock: You hear Devil Went Down to Georgia on your way to work in the morning and the next day, you might hear it again on your way home.

But I don't want to hear the same opera recording in the same 48-hour period. Or that week, for that matter, unless it's one of my favorite tunes and even then please for God's sake play a different recording or arrangement.

Great Odin's Beard

This weekend I embarked on a feat of monumental minority so fervently fun that the very existence of this task filled me with a sense of purpose, determination and wonder.
I am of course referring to the fact that I trimmed my beard.
Irish genes being what they are, I never had enough facial fur to warant such a chore. But age being what it is, I've now passed the threshold of fuzz and delved headlong into hair territory. All this means is that my beard was gettin' scraggly.
Unfortunately the cheeky patchiness still prevails, and the sides look a little pekid. But I rock a mean moustache to compensate.
My dad didn't get to grow a beard until well past age 26, and even then his military career required certain facial hygiene requirements. As I hacked at it inch by inch with an electric trimmer, I came across a troubling strand that I saw a couple weeks prior, but chose to ignore as if that might make it go away, or convince it not to bring any friends along. A grey hair made its way on to the chin. Marcy tells me it could pass as blonde, and that's comforting, but we both know the truth.

A blog twofer:
This weekend the battle between me and the entire year of 2002 took a tragic turn against me.
I purchased my very first iPod.

(In case you were confused, I put obtaining a first iPod as an achievement worth
note in 2002, not six years later when everybody's got em. But I gotta do all I
can to convince me to keep going to the gym - that's why I bought new sweats,
new shirts, and yes, an iPod. Maybe new sneakers too, but Larry at the gym told
me about a 67-year-old who decided to climb Mt. Rainier and did it by training
in ratty old tennis shoes. The theory was he made his workouts as physically
demanding as possible so that he'd have an easier time down the mountain.)

So I got a cute little shuffle. I was going to hold out and save my money until I can get a big monster iPod, but I'm happy with what I got. If anything, I've put most of what I intend to have on it for my trips to the gym, and it's less than half full. Or more than half empty, depending on how you look at it.
Damn you 2002. I still struck a big blow with the fact that it was the year I quit smoking, but I'll never forgive you for this:

How to be a tool

Step 1: Borrow your friend's collection of Led Zepplin CDs. For this exercise, let's use Led Zeppelin, II, III, Houses of the Holy, and In Through the Out Door.

Step 2: Put said songs into your iPod.

Step 3: Begin jamming to "Over the Hills and Far Away" like it's 1983 and you've just purchased your very first Walkman.

Step 4: Get called on it by your wife, who makes fun of your head-boppin' shenanigans.

Step 5: Grin like an idiot.

Music to poop by

We live next to a high school stadium. Usually it's good for a chuckle when we suddenly get a roaring ovation for doing the dishes. But today there's a festival rockin on the football field. You can hear "YMCA" very well from our bathroom.
On a related note: They're now playing the "Electric slide." Appropriate.

Painful, but appropriate.