| New(er) Jabsperience! |
[Apr. 13th, 2007|06:50 pm] |
Back by popular demand (Tim is popular, and he demanded), the Jammin' at the Jab SET LIST!
Alex Borst - NOT Alex Borscht
"Nameless" - Long guitar intro. Actually not an intro, song is an instrumental. Glisandos abound; boy is my face red.
"NamelessII" - Subtitled "Song for Girlfriend." Story about girlfriend meeting his family in Florida. Long guitar intro, followed by violent tone change! Good change of pace. Vocals begin; reminds me of Sim Redmond Band somewhat, folky and growling vocals. Nice low notes, reminds me vocally of whoever dubbed George Clooney in "O' Brother Where Art Thou."
Steve M. - "Sounds like Tom Waits.
"Lay Lady Lay" by Bob Dylan - Should be good! Misstep at first, but good then on out. Much, much better than the last time I saw Bob Dylan play.
"Yesu Joy of Man's Desiring" by Johann Sebastian Bach, Arranged for classical guitar by Leo somebody. If you like this sort of thing, then it's the sort of thing you'll like. I liked it.
Tim "Space Cowboy" Brown - The theme of his music tonight is "Truth."
"Everything." Dedicated to those who suffer for the Truth. I. Cannot. Look. Away. Tim is a reliable lyricist, no exception here. Nice improvised instrumental break. Song hits upper portions of his range. He is SINGLE!!!
"Idioteque" by Radiohead. String breaks! Excellent acoustic cover, Tim ad-libs twice.
"The Ballad of the Jabberwocky" by Lewis Carroll. Recitation. Vorpalicious, but not nearly enough burbling. On the whole, color me frabjous.
"Friend Enough" - I like this song. So help me, at one point, he reminded me of Ani Difranco. In a good way! Honest! Guitar reminded me of his cover of "License and Registration" by Death Cab for Cutie.
"The Narrow Gate" lyrics by Lillian Choi. Alternate melodies exist for this song; this is Tim's take on it.
"Fire." About knowing the Truth and not going that way. Has H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks in the first line! Maybe the second line. Ad-libbed. He is so clean-shaven, he's GOT to be using a Mach 3. Possibly a Schick Quattro.
Impromptu Audience Poll: What does Tim use for a shaving device?
Mach 3 - 2
Schick Quattro - 1
Electric - 1
Disposable - 1
Straight Razor - 0
Motorolla Razr - 0
Steve Maxon
"Liquid" by Jars of Clay. Good! Powerful bridge.
"You Are" - Medley. People had paper here, looking at it, so no further comments could be made/remembered.
"Take my Life" by ? - Minor key, for medley, interesting. Back to "One Thing."
"Cast out my Fear" - Powerful lyrics and chorus medley, brooding verse melody makes for great contrast. Especially good in upper register.
"Kiss From a Rose" by Seal - Great acoustic cover. The more I get of this song, the stranger it feels.
"Sometimes You Can't Make it on Your Own" by U2 - Well done, takes full advantage of range. Questionable diction!!! I had to shoot him per his request for acknowledging the fact he made a mistake.
TIM BROWN GUEST NOTE TAKER TAKES OVER AS T. Maxon AND John Maxon JOIN STEVE FOR:
"Old Brown's Daughter" by Great Big Sea - Perfect Pitch (players) and the acapella trio was so touching. I'm sure Old Brown would gladly accept you(all) as sons-in-law. |
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| Jabberwocky Café |
[Nov. 15th, 2006|10:27 pm] |
The following are the notes from the coffeehouse I attended at Syracuse University's Schine Student Center's Jabberwocky Café, on October 20, 2006. Statements in asterisks are my comments now. The notes were largely assembled by me, with some help from Steve Maxon, Stretch Brown, and Sarge Marmet.
I - Steve Maxon, Esq.
1)"Revive Our Souls" - Good
2)"All Flesh is Grass" (The Spirit Says) - Good *Actually called "Incorruptible"*
3)"You Are" - Good. Stretch on table. Nice segué.
4)"Returning" - Good. 'specially high parts. - Tim Fluttered. Good thing Schine has defibrillator.
5)"What You Own" - Rent. Need more cowbell. W/ Tom (snake). Good. Duet bridge part receives separate applause.
II - Tig Big - Senior Nutrition Science Major from Omar.
Tom bets Steve $2 American Tim will kick coffee over. Tim argues w/ self. Steve et. al. Cannot! kick cup. Cup must stay!
1)"You May (Perfect State of Peace) (Smile) (Break into a Smile)" - Solid; SM @ SB've never ehard it.
2)"Final Straw" - Solid. Stretch on lap? By Snow Patrol.
3)"Title and Registration" - Death Cab. Solid, Faster version. Mentioned concert in Rachacha.
4)"Friend Enough" - Solid. Finished song today! "Gnarly" - Robbie M. *Sarge*
"I'm sorry my songs aren't that fun..." - Tim
5)"I Can't Help (Falling in Love With You)." Elvis. Solid. Steve in aside *I think he likes me...*
III - Stretch
1)w/ Steve. Acapella "Down to the River" by "Allison Crouse." Bien. As a couple, they'd make odd kids who'd sing very well.
2)"Wild Horses." Alicia Keyes version. Bien. Less talking in room then usual, Tim wooed. *Maybe he "whooed," but then again...*
3)"Because of You." Kelly Clarkson "Haven't practiced well..." Bien. Sam Benedict on BGV. Prediction came true.
4)"You Are my Hiding Place." Bien. Piano good, shaky lyrics, restart! Audience behind her, Tim comes to rescue!
5)"'Til Kingdom Come." Jess V, bien, with Timmy BGV&G. Requests me not to take notes. I demur. *This really happened, from the "stage"*
6)W/Steve (BGV Falsetto! The Ladies LOVE it) & Tim (Guitar). Jess (LV). "Gimme One Reason to Stay Here." Bien.
*The rest of the page was occupied by drawings, which I cannot hope to replicate here. There was a drill labelled "idea" making its way into someone's head, and a stick figure girl with a wind sock. Truly a master work.* |
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| If you can't trust an advertising icon... |
[Nov. 8th, 2006|02:29 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  quixotic | ] |
That stinking tiger lied to us. The only breakfast cereal that is truly G-r-r-r-eat is NOT Frosted Flakes. No friend, that cereal is Cracklin' Oat Bran. Cracklin' Oat Bran with egg-nog instead of milk. Eat hearty.
Also, all girls love diet coke. |
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| Friday |
[Nov. 3rd, 2006|08:05 pm] |
I am a wronged man. This morning, I was pimped out by my fellow Wetland Biologists to the Forestry department. I found myself locked in the cab of a Ford F-250 with a furry, Napoleonic lumberjack whose idea of proper reparations for slavery involves slamming as many "izzles" and "iggeties" into his vocabulary as federal law will allow. Also, top-40 stations should be outlawed.
Corn was also served.
From there, the day steadily improved, and culminated in the line "Well ****, I hope your 'Hairy Butt Man Disease' feels better!" (edited). I bought automotive components, 10-year old cheese, and peanut butter M&Ms. I was (honorably and subtly) propositioned by a 17 and 11/12ths year-old-girl, and nearly run off the road by a truck which was ignored by a lady trooper. I dropped Harry Harmer's name, drank egg nog, and bit my sister on the forehead.
And it's only 7PM. |
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| Welcome to my job |
[Oct. 28th, 2006|06:26 pm] |
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Tuesday, October 24th, 2006. 9:30 AM, EST. Temperature, around 40 degrees. I was paid my usual hourly rate, as well as a bonus of $5 to "skinny-dip" in an idyllic pond. Since that sounds bad, I should include the fact that no one else was present for miles, and the only proof required was my unimpeachable word, and a photograph of the shore taken from the pond proper. |
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| Rant |
[Jan. 13th, 2006|03:17 am] |
As this post won't be as much fun in content as most of the others, I've decided to compensate by writing it wearing a funny hat.
( Rant begins here ) |
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| A month |
[Dec. 21st, 2005|01:54 pm] |
The following is a post meant to update y'all on the past month or so. Sit back, turn down the lights, grab a beverage of a refreshing nature, play some soothing music.
But now I don't have time. I have to go to Advance Auto Parts. And Wal*Mart. I've been trapped in Syracuse, but there's a light at the end of the tunnel. Don't give up hope. |
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[Nov. 14th, 2005|01:56 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | Cantankerous | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Sounds | ] |
I am in a computer lab. I am trying to write a paper. Somewhere behind me, is a baby. As in, a human being less than a year old. It keeps making sounds that don't belong in a computer lab. Baby sounds.
It may be the curmudgeon in me talking, but if you have to bring a baby to a lab, sedate the loudly adorable little rat. |
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| Taken From Sister Sarah, Filled Out For Sister Melissa |
[Nov. 13th, 2005|01:58 pm] |
[A is for age:]
21
[B is for booze of choice:]
Saranac
[C is for career:]
Bioinformatician
( The rest of this fascinating survey ) |
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| Djere.net Installment 1 |
[Oct. 23rd, 2005|03:24 pm] |
There's a place I can go, in a land I can't see. Known as the Djere.net forums, this remarkable website allows me to exchange ideas with a plethora of brilliant and humorous individuals from the comfort of any computer. One entire thread is devoted to myself, and I think of it as the ideological precursor to this journal. Since it'd be rude to force y'all to go there to enjoy it, I'm bringing it to you. Here's the first installment:
Names and addresses have been changed to protect the innocent and/or stupid.
A few weeks back, our intrepid (or is it insipid?) hero was relaxing in his apartment at 15 Alfie Dr**e, R******ster N*, 14623, lounging on the living room floor watching Equilibrium with his henchmen, Ted and Joe. It was late in the evening, and he found himself nodding off as the movie drew to a close. The film ended, and since Tom was in a phase where he slept on his bedroom floor, he opted to stay and sleep there, rather than risk exhaustion by climbing the stairs to his room. His cronies headed up to their respective bedrooms, but forgot one important detail. The lock on the front door.
Meanwhile the evil Mr. X finished his 12th blood of the innocent and peach schnaps cocktail, hopped into a cab, and headed back to his lair, 16 Alfie Drive...
Our hero slept on, the moon tracing its slow arc across the constantly-shedding beige carpet. Tom's sleep was undisturbed, as he had recently begun "pumping iron," causing him to typically sleep "like a baby." The only negative side effect was occasional muscle soreness. The day before this particular adventure, Tom had worked out his... OBLIQUES, a fact that would soon save his life, or at least possibly his carpet.
Mr. X stumbled out of the taxi, overtipped, and headed toward his apartment. However, this time X decided not to read the numbers on the door before walking inside.
X opened the door, and walked inside. He knew, in his heart of hearts, that his staircase was to the right of the door, so he bore starboard. However, he neglected to notice that in this apartment, the staircase was on the left. In addition, he didn't notice a lump of sleeping flesh on the floor, therefore he didn't lift his foot quite high enough to avoid brushing our hero's sore left oblique. X continued around the corner into Tom's kitchen, opened the basement door, and stared puzzledly at the basement stairs.
Tom awoke to a sudden blast of cold air, followed by a sudden cacophony of pain in his side. He roared awake, ready to pour out his wrath on whatever creature had dared interrupt his precious slumber. Tom quickly surveyed the room, spotting a stranger disappearing into his kitchen. Tom headed for the kitchen, and was greeted by a puzzled Mr. X, looking as though he'd never seen a basement staircase before. Tom quickly put two and two together, and realized that this man was:
1) Inebriated - stupefied by alcohol.
2) Probably a neighbor, or a guest at a party of a neighbor.
Tom used these two facts, and with all speed created a defense. "Hey, man," Tom said. "I know what you're looking for; it's right through here!" Tom beckoned the man to follow him, and led him to the front door of the apartment. Tom opened the door, and ushered the man through it. He then closed the door, locked it, and patted himself on the back for a job well done. But the terror was far from over.
There I was, having just bested their Spaniard, about ready to head upstairs to sleep, when I heard someone try to open the front door. I, figuring he'd realize his mistake once discovering that the door was locked, ignored him for a bit. Then, he tried to unlock the door with something that was obviously not the right key. After about two minutes of trying, he decided to begin banging on the door. Despite the fact that my roommates had gotten me into this situation in the first place, I didn't particularly want revenge in the form of waking up to a drunkard pounding on our door. So, I armed myself and opened it. But what, do you ask, did I arm myself with?
The answer, in short, is our security system. However, to explain the security system I must digress to our first time staying in the apartment. We discovered that our lovely sliding glass door (which doubles as a big whistle on windy days) can be opened when locked simply by lifting it slightly to raise the hook of the lock above it's latch. This we did not like. So to keep unwanted guests out (when the front door was locked, at least) we went out and purchased a 3 foot length of board that only allowed the door to be opened approximately 2 inches when it was locked. It was this sophisticated anti-trespassing device that I brought to the door with me.
I opened the door, and said "May I help you?" He replied "Um, what, what room is this?" I replied "What're you looking for, chief?" He shot back "Well I live here!" Always a fan of Socrates, I inquired "What's your apartment number?" Despite the difficulty of the question, my opponent managed to remember that his apartment was 16 A**** Drive, not 15. I indicated that he might want to try his luck with the apartment across the street, he stumbled off with a subdued thanks, and I tottled up to bed, convinced that all was again right with the world. Or was it?
Yes. Yes it was. |
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| IT Open Lab Triptych |
[Oct. 14th, 2005|07:47 pm] |
Lots of freaks, with hair
hanging to the waist which shines;
hair grease, no showers
Wall to wall PCs
Labbies sit with weak-chinned stares,
"You want a printout?"
Monitors flicker
A pale face looks up and gasps!
A girl has entered. |
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| First Ever Obnoxious Quiz |
[Oct. 3rd, 2005|11:36 pm] |
| [ | Tags | | | quiz | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Imogen Heap "Useless" | ] |
Thank Joanna for this'n.
Step 1: Get your playlist together, put it on random, and play.
Step 2: Pick your favorite lines from the first 25 songs that play.
Step 3: Post and let everyone you know guess what song the lines come from.
Step 4: Cross out the songs when someone guesses correctly!
( This'n ) |
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| It's about time |
[Sep. 20th, 2005|08:44 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | Annoyed at Snuffy | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Random Computer Lab Guy -"I've Got a Cold, but Not a Tissue" | ] |
I've finally gathered my thoughts enough to post about weekend past. If you don't want any of your preconcieved images of Ol' Tom shattered, perhaps its best you stop reading now, perhaps work a crossword puzzle. Before you go, that's not a real song, it's just this guy kept sniffing. Thank you.
Friday evening, the fellas and I decide to have a few folks over to the apartment. Folks came, it was fun.
I made a cheese plate.
At one point, approximately 11PM, there's a knock at the door. Someone answers it, and in walk four fellas from the next apartment over. Turns out I knew one of 'em from the CornerStore. They needed a corkscrew, and had a corked bottle of wine to prove it. Ted pulled out his trusty Leatherman, and opened the bottle. Crisis averted.
Fast forward to Sunday afternoon. Amelia, Cheena, Ted and myself're enjoying a leisurely lunch at the Olive Garden. For those of you who don't know, my birthday is September 28th. However, when I was away from the table, they decided to tell our waitress that my birthday, was, in fact, September 18th. So, she brought out a dish of ice cream with a nice blue candle in it. After the wait-staff sang to me in Italian, I started to dig into my ice cream.
Suddenly, a man strolling past ceremoniously places a dollar bill in front of me. He walks away without a word, and disappears into the milling throng all the way across the dining room.
That man is one of our neighbors.
The moral of this part of the story is: If you lend a corkscrew to your neighbors, make sure they think the next day is your birthday, and that they're in the restaurant you've convinced of that fact as well.
Rewind to Saturday. One of our guests to the gathering on Friday (the illustrious Christine Liang) had invited Ted and myself to a slightly grittier soirée she and her roommate were having the following night, namely Saturday. I agreed to go with Ted, taking on the mantle and awesome set of responsibilities of the "Designated Driver."
We arrived. Christine's roommate Andrew answered the apartment door...
...clad in a tank-top, four-inch heels and a mini-skirt. For the past year or so, Andrew (a heterosexual) had been dabbling in cross-dressing, and the previous Friday he had begun to do so on campus in public for the first time. I'd spotted him then, as had Ted, but there's nothing like a six-foot bouncer in a mini-skirt to wake you up and let you know that you're in for a good time.
I was hit on by women, and men, and all manner of human being, and took it all with my usual good nature. One fellow, (in response to some quip I made which he over heard) announced he would "So take [me] to Red Lobster." Seafood aficionado though I am, I politely declined his invitation.
Ted won one of the door prizes, a three-pack of cooked or cured finely chopped and seasoned meat, stuffed into a prepared animal intestine or other casing.
I met a hamster named Jacob. I also placed a small stuffed dog in his exercise ball, and proceeded to terrify a nearby guest by spinning the ball and the dog very, very quickly. I made some new friends (not all of them terrifying), had a terrific evening, and kept some folks off the road who probably shouldn't've been on it.
All questions, comments, or concerns will be addressed in this forum ASAP. Tom out. |
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[Sep. 12th, 2005|09:41 am] |
| [ | mood |
| | Great | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Thievery Corporation - "Lebanese Blonde" | ] |
For those of you who don't know, Death Cab for Cutie recently released a new album on compact disk. It's called "Plans." Toward the latter bit of my drive to campus today, a song from this album happened to start playing on the radio. Since I was running a touch early, I decided to wait out the end of the song, hoping that the DJ would announce the title, etc.
So, I masterfully park the Buick in a pullthrough spot, noting that about 6 such spots exist to my right (passenger side). The song finishes, and immediately afterwards another starts to play. I didn't have enough time to wait around for another song, so I grab my bag and throw a book in it, meanwhile committing a few lyrics to memory so I could look it up later.
That's when she backed into me.
**SIDEBAR - Ladies, listen up. You'll never convince me that you on average as a gender are good drivers. See http://www.livejournal.com/users/tanktoptim/2005/09/10/ for one example. Never. Ever. So, this being the case, if there are SIX pullthroughs in a parking lot, don't think you have to prove something by backing your chintzy little Honda into a spot. It's just not a good idea. Take the pullthrough. **
I get out. She gets out. She says, "So did we kill each other?" I reply, (all smiles) "You mean did you kill me?" (smile dramatically fades). I look at my bumper - not a scratch on it. I look at her bumper - a protrusion on my fine, Buick bumper has punched a big ol' hole in her bumper. I say "Doesn't look like any damage, so we're all set." She says "Oh, good." I wait around until she leaves, just to make sure she doesn't write down my license plate or anything, then go to class.
I learn that fevers both rheumatic AND scarlet are caused by Streptococcus pyogenes.
I forget the lyrics to the Death Cab song.
I get out of class, and get all fired up about posting this. I get to the parking lot, and a friendly old repairman says, "Hey, you shouldn't be leaving class, you should be going TO class!"
I reply, "You're telling me, but I've already finished!"
He chuckles. "Oh, I see. You have yourself a great day!"
And so I will. |
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[Sep. 11th, 2005|12:33 am] |
It's good to know that in these trying times, with fuel prices through the roof, people can still get enough scratch together to get together with their best pals, rent a Hummer limousine, and enjoy a night out on the town at the Klassy Kat (an adult entertainment establishments 5 minutes from my apartment). I hope it's worth the drum of gasoline and wallet fulla twenties to celebrate the joyous occasion of a friend's wedding.
If I wed, the men will celebrate the old fashioned way - by killing something by hand which is significantly more massive than ourselves combined. Party on, Wayne. |
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[Sep. 10th, 2005|06:26 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  recumbent | ] |
This may be my last post.
I work for an entity known as the RIT CornerStore. I was toiling away in an 8-hour shift today, and felt my legendary strength begin to flag. Realizing the danger of being caught unprepared while serving my heretofore loyal mistress, I began to prepare for my allotted half-hour break.
In order to replenish myself quickly, I determined that my best course of action was to drink a caffeinated beverage. I selected a "Starbucks Doubleshot" based on the criteria of flavor, price, and caffeine level. Returning to the subterranean CornerStore office, I opened the container and began to consume it's life-giving fluid. The flavor wasn't good, per se, but since I hadn't had one of these beverages in some time, I attributed this to not being acclimated to its nuances.
The time to continue work was approaching, so I began to completely drain the contents of the "Doubleshot," up until now a liquid beverage. Imagine my surprise when a solid glob of congealed cream slipped through the opening in the top of the can, into my mouth and down my throat before I could blink. I coughed, sputtered, and lifted the can to examine the date stamped on its underside.
The date read 09/05/05.
As most of you now realize, that date occurred 5 days before this one.
In order to save the rest of the RIT student body from the fate I encountered, I gathered the remainder of the offending beverages from the cooler, and disposed of them in the back of the store. The first cans I came across which weren't out of date read 01/26/06. That means the beverage I'd just finished was possibly made six months before...
This may be my last post. |
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| A Play of Rejection in One Act |
[Sep. 9th, 2005|09:18 am] |
| [ | music |
| | Ben Folds - "Sentimental Guy" | ] |
Friday. My inner optimist says I only have one hour of class today. The other 98% of me curses the fact it's at 8AM. But today, it was all worth dragging myself out of bed and through the veil of fog to RI of T to witness the following exchange when walking back to my car:
Players:
Random Guy 1
Random Guy 2
Some Girl Who Must've Been Named Laura
RG1, to RG2: "Laura's cute!"
SGWMBNL: (turns around with big smile)
RG1 and RG2 completely ignore SGWMBNL and continue conversation/stroll
SGWMBNL: (dejectedly heads back to dorm to weep, stare at wall)
Exuent |
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[Sep. 7th, 2005|07:34 am] |
Yesterday, two interesting things happened.
First, during a break in my four hour Public Policy Analysis class, I ducked out to the Ritz to get a cup of Mug. I had to walk by a cluster of hippies, complete with drums and a marimba. It occurred to me, that if it came down to it, I could've out-hippied them. It would've blown their open minds even more so if some clean-cut (ha), button-shirted straight had whipped out his didgeridoo and entertained the passers-by.
Second, during the second half of that class, we moved to a computer lab. I walked in, quickly noting that people who weren't taking the class were using space. I figured I'd wait at the front of the room for it to clear out, and after a few seconds, the labbie running the place walked up and asked if I were the professor. I chuckled, but realized a bit later that the fella'd lived on my floor freshman year. I'd never talked to him, but still.
The moral of the story: Shave your head, and buy a didgeridoo. |
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| It starts |
[Sep. 6th, 2005|08:25 pm] |
Acknowledging the fact that I have precious little to say, and even littler time in which to say it, I've decided to bow to popular pressure and begin to "'blog". If you're reading this, you and I're gonna lay down some ground rules right off the bat.
1. Don't expect me to update often.
I'm a lazy yet busy person, which is a combination which doesn't lend itself well to perpetual updates.
2. Unless otherwise noted, don't take anything I write seriously.
I don't want whiny comments, only well-thought-out dissenting opinions. Which ties into
3. Think before you comment.
I'm sure anyone who got this far will, but I'll throw it in there to be safe.
4. Don't "friend" me if I'm not your friend.
Let's make sure we're worth each other's time before we "take the plunge."
That's pretty much it. Feel free to comment, criticism of any type is welcome. Anchors away. |
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