If I had married Leslie Mann instead of my wife, and I wanted to do the right thing by her and take her name, I’d be Michael Mann. If I wanted to be more egalitarian about the whole thing and hyphenate, I’d be Michael Batz-Mann. Cool, I know, but if I had of married Courtney Cox, I’d probably stick with my own last name. I’m kind of bummed I broke up with my first girlfriend, Cynthia Fuckingwolves.
If I married Michael Mann, needless to say, we’d both be Michael Mann.
I ordered some curry from this place called Merlion Singapore Restaurant and the name Merlion made me think of merkins and then I thought of a lion wearing a merkin and that made me think of a cartoon lion like Simba with a second, smaller mane around his cock’n’balls and that made me laugh out loud because OMG big cartoon predator cat with like groomed puffy pubic hair OMG but then I felt weird because I was essentially fantasizing about feline genitalia which if there were thought police would be against the law, I’m sure, and Chris Hansen could show up at any minute and tell me that I was being arrested for, of all things, kitty porn.
Retro rock records can be boring by the time you get to the second half because they’ve got limited sounds going on, and often have pretty repetitive melodies and song structures. But this thing is all over the place, and in a good way. I mean, this songs sounds all Wilco-y, while “Keep Walking” is straight-up, bouncing-keys up-tempo garage number, “Staring” is power pop perfection, and the Stones’ “Sleepy City” is presented in delirious girl group fashion.
I think they’re having all this fun because they’re one of them there supergroups. Greg Cartwright of the Reigning Sound/Oblivians and Coco Hames of the Ettes split vocal duties song to song and share duties on one. They’re fleshed out by their bandmates and some famous friends. Usually these things don’t work out because there’s this sort of “find the common ground” kind of thing going on, rather than the “let’s take this shit where it goes” kind of thing. But these guys, like the New Pornographers on that first record, seem to find a way to both gel immediately and yet still push and pull each other in interesting directions.
On Monday night, I looked up from my seat on my flight from DC National to O’Hare, and Arrested Development was on. Nice job, United. It was the one where Michael is trying to impress Sally Sitwell (also the night of the auction, where Gob bids for Lucille 2).Gob injures himself doing his chicken (the fourth one down above). I laughed out loud. The lady to my right looked at me quizzically. I said, “Has anyone in this family even seen a chicken?” She was more confused. “From the show,” I said, and pointed. She gave me a solemn “I see” look and went back to her Sodoku. I looked to the left, and a fat bearded guy across the aisle suppressed a smile, and gave me a knowing look. Then he, like me, returned to watch Tobias shoot his wife Lindsay in the ass with a tranquilizer dart because he mistook her for a wild wolf, when she was simply wearing a fur coat to seduce Rob Corddry’s character, an action hero actor slash gun nut.
In order to Target our neighborhood, this developer must override the Comprehensive Land Use Plan—the single document created by city offcials and residents in concert. It states that this land should never be used for retail. I’m out here going door to door because I believe the collective voice of the citizens should not be silenced by a nonresident whose annual income trumps ours by a few million.