I hate rapcore, or whatever that newer style of music is called. You all know what I mean, that screaming, heavy guitar, fake rapping style of music started by Limp Bizkit and continued by the Deftones and Korn and Linkin Park and all those other worthless interchangeable bands. I find their music incredibly trite when it is discernable against the mumbled garbage that passes as white rap. I couldn't agree with Ben Folds more that these whiny motherfuckers have nothing to really be upset about. Sure, this is a big blanket statement, and some of this stuff is probably decent, but I have yet to hear that stuff. Anyway, since most people who read this site probably agree with me, and don't regularly check in with these artists, I present for you...

A run down of what's going on in the world of rapcore band websites

P.O.D. couldn't get www.pod.com because it was taken up by a pod company, which is, quite honestly, a horribly frightening idea for a company. It's all the same, because the picture on their website is obviously a mistake. How did that geeky white boy, who is most likely named Jimmy or Todd, end up in that picture? P.O.D. should proof their pictures way more carefully before allowing hte world to see them, or else anybody who happens to wander near them might end up displayed all over the world wide web.

At The Korn Kamp, you can discover that Korn bills themselves as "the biggest band in the world". Now, no matter how you look at this, it's a false statement. If they mean big as in "popular", well, obviously, even an act like David Hasselhoff has them beat there, as his worldwide fans turn out in throngs to hear his dreamy vocals and see his sun-bleached visage. If they mean big as in "most members in the ensemble", they may not get beaten by the Trachtenberg Family Slideshow Players, but Parliament Funkadelic, with it's 30+ members can kick Korn's ass anyday. If they mean big as in "fattest" band in the world, one guy from The Fat Boys would probably be able to eat a majority of the members of Korn without batting an eye. So which lie are you propagating, Korn?

Also, who names a site that is supposed to be really badass a "kamp"? I mean, that makes it sound like Korn is a daycare service for the other rapcore artists illegitimate children.

At Stain'd.com, they teach us how to properly use an apostrophe. Just kidding! They don't know that kind of thing! However, they DO know how to flash animate all the piercings that one can possibly get on their face so, umm, enjoy!

On Linkin Park's website, you can get your fair share of screaming insanity, if, say, you need to scare off some rabid weasels that are attacking you near your computer speakers. Mingled with the screaming, you can listen to the pansy British accent of a band member plug other parts of the site. Yippee!

Apparently, Puddle of Mudd's website lets us get an inside look at the band members. One could never know that Wes prefers "real baggy things so the boys can hang loose downstairs" or that Doug loves his dog Brando. Sigh, hopefully the Puddle of Mudd pinup in next month's Teen Bop magazine will capture this softer, sensitive side of the band.

Well, there you have it. That's what's going on in the world of pissed off white boys these days. I just saved you all the headache of visiting these sites yourself, so I expect some thanks. You know, like money. Or comments. Whatever.

I deal with a lot of filing here at the temple, and a lot of alphabetizing, and I come across a lot of dual last names. You all know what I mean, like when a kids name is Jackson-Pollack or Franken-Stein or whatever. That got me to thinking, what do these kids do when they grow up? Does anyone know the answer to this? Does anyone have one of these dual last names and have a plan for marriage? If you are a man, do you keep both last names, and then does your wife take both last names too? What if you are a woman, do you tack a third name on there? Does it become Franken-Stein-Monster or whatever? Because I don't think I've ever seen that. And if you are a man with two last names, and you marry a woman with two last names, does somebody (most likely the child) end up with four last names? And if so, isn't that some kind of mental child abuse? I need answers people, even if they are fake answers.

Silly Republicans, democracy is for everyone!

Saw a free Carbon Leaf show last night. Those guys are so awesome. It was supposed to only be a half hour show, but it ended up being closer to an hour and fifteen minutes. Hott. Here's the setlist, if anyone is interested:
A Life Less Ordinary - a new song, I believe
Is This The Fall - another new one
Wolftrap and Fireflies - an old one I'd never heard, I like it a lot
What About Everything - another new one, so good
So Why - new one!
On Any Given Day - I've never heard it live, man that's a great song
Seven Brides for Seven Sinners - kickass
ENCORE:
The Boxer - always fun
Mari Mac - of course

After hearing all these new songs, I can't wait til the new album. After the show, Barry said it was going to blow Echo, Echo out of the water, and that CD is incredible. Man oh man, I can't wait until September 13th at Starr Hill, where I'll be seeing them again. If you want to come along, let me know!

Damn it, I have a crush. I hate having a crush. I hate knowing that there's someone out there that I have feelings for, who may or may not even think of me as a potential love interest. I hate having to wonder whether I'm going to act on these feelings or not. I hate not knowing whether or not my feelings are reciprocated. I hate the fact that her hair smells really damn good. I hate the fact that we did an improv scene together today and it was the first time I've ever experienced any emotion other than egomania on stage. I hate that I know she has a tiny band-aid on her right forearm but she doesn't know how she got scratched. I hate not having her phone number.

Oh wait, having a crush is kind of fun. Replace all those "hate"s with "rather enjoy"s. Except for the last one, I need to do something about that.

My birthday is coming up...

Cough cough cough presents cough cough

Oh, sorry, I don't know what came over me just there.

Random Phrases and their Foreign Translations

When I get really bored, I like to play around with online translation software. Here's a list of some random phrases and their foreign translations, their re-translations into English, as well as their ranking in terms of sheer funniness:

"Alas, I seem to have forgotten the pickled herrings."
In Dutch: "Helaas schijn ik om de pickled herrings te hebben vergeten."
Back into English: "Unfortunately I appear round the pickled herrings to have forgotten."
Grade: C. This is only good for a cheap laugh. The concept of remembering exactly where you forgot something is slightly amusing.

"Would you believe me if I told you that I can juggle three live chickens?"
In Italian: "Lei me crederebbe se l'ho detto che posso fare giochi di prestigio tre polli vivi?"
Back into English: "She would believe me if I said it that I can do games of prestige three alive chickens."
Grade: B+. That's right, I said it. I can do games of prestige. Take THAT, unnamed She.

"There is absolutely no way I would be able to contain that much seasoned pork."
In German: "Es gibt unbedingt keinen Weg den ich da? viel erfahrenes Schweinefleisch hatte enthalten kennen. "
Back into English: "It gives unconditionally no way that I that much learned pork can would have contained."
Grade: D. Pork can't learn, or it wouldn't be so tasty and easy to turn into bacon.

"My neural passageways consist of a substance that resembles lime gelatin."
In Spanish: "Mis corredores neurales se componen de una substancia que se parece a la gelatina de cal."
Back into English: "My running neurales are composed of a substance that seems to the gelatin of lime"
Grade: B. I don't know what a neurale is, but it seems humorous. I am unsettled by the lack of closure in this sentence. What does it seem to the gelatin of lime?!

"Wouldn't you know it, but I just came down with a serious and quite chronic case of fear of strangers!"
In French: "Ferait vous ne le savez pas, mais je viens d'a attrapé un cas sérieux et tout à fait chronique de crainte d'étranger!"
Back into English: "Would do you do not know it, but I have just caught a serious and completely chronic case of fear of foreigner!"
Grade: A+! Leave it to the French to be afraid of a wussy hair band.

Is it sad that one of my dream jobs is to be a model for the Oriental Trading Company's catalog? I mean, who wouldn't want to do this
for a living?

Yep. Still awesome.

Out of curiosity, what is everyone's favorite stereotypical "fantasy"? I've always been partial to the pool boy fantasy, where I'm cleaning some elderly (but not TOO elderly) woman's pool, or repairing her cable, or grooming her dog, whatever, and she offers to be my sugar mama in return for services rendered.

Now that I think about it, this has only really topped the list of my fantasies since I graduated and realized that I'm most likely never going to get rich on my good looks or film degree. Go fig.

Anyway, I put it to you, Camp Firewood, as we spend our last (metaphorical) day together, be proud of who you are. Let the world know what non-graphic thing you fantasize about.

I'm a big fan of volunteering to help out around the synagogue, because I feel like I'm being a good person and also because I'm bored a lot of the time. So I volunteered to help out with something upstairs, and I am handed a giant trash bag full of name tags, and I'm told to empty them all. Now, keep in mind, there are over 1100 families who belong to this synagogue, and each of them have at least three members, so I somehow got suckered into emptying roughly 5000 name tags. I think I've officially had enough of being nice. From now on, I'm going to be known as "that surly guy who works downstairs".

I like to take my lunch breaks as late as possible. This serves two functions:
1.) I'm full until dinner
2.) less work after lunch
However, it's 12:30 and I don't think I can make it any longer. I'm weak. Luckily, I get out at 3 on Fridays, so I'll still be home before anyone else. That's not much consolation for anyone reading this, as you are probably flying into a murderous rage right about now, but it makes me feel better to know that my leaving early has sufficiently pissed off others, mainly because I'm a dick. Toodles!

Two hours and forty minutes...sigh. This is wicked boring. I've decided my least favorite thing to do in this office is to file papers into binders. Why can't someone just invent a type of paper that responds to my mental frequency and obeys my will? It would make filing so easy, and also, I could rule the world because I could threaten severe papercuts to anyone who stood in my way. Not just the shallow kind that kind of itches, but the really deep ones where you can see eight or nine layers of skin from a cross angle if you look at the cut. Yeah, THAT kind.

I've been at work for almost forty minutes already, which I find hard to believe, since I've done absolutely nothing. Today is shaping up to be one of those days where I do nothing but browse the internet and eat leftover snacks from the temple youth group all day. Those are the best, because they remind me the most of what it's like to be home for the day. Except the snacks at home are almost exclusively made by sweet, sweet, Little Debbie, and here they are mostly Bachman pretzels, which are only pretzels in the loosest definition, being "sticks of baked dough covered in salt", and not "sticks of baked dough covered in salt that taste good by any stretch of the imagination". Seriously, how does one brand of pretzel manage to tower over all of its competitors in terms of sheer tastelessness? I've gotten my tongue stuck to flagpoles in the winter that taste better than those pretzels, and probably had less sodium.

I don't know how many of you read Red Meat on a regular basis, but it's very hit or miss. Most of the time, I laugh quite loudly at the comic. However, this strip frightened me, and I had to share it. I hope one day I can build a contraption to share my man-nectar with the world.

I hate it when someone is eating something that smells really tasty around me and all I have for lunch is a turkey sandwich. Right now, someone somewhere around me is eating what smells like fresh cinnamon buns, and I don't even have a turkey sandwich today. I'm not sure if I have any lunch, to be honest. All I have is the sweet, sweet memory of the last time I ate at Cinnabon.

It's just under one month now until I turn 22, or as I like to call it, "the part of my life where I have no birthdays to look forward to until I turn gray and retire". Seriously, life is unfair. For the last couple years, almost every birthday has signified something pretty cool:
13: My bar mitzvah/first year you can really call yourself a "teen"
14: High school starts
15: Driver's permit
16: Driver's license
17: R-rated movies
18: Among other things, the ability to enter into a legally binding contract
19: Okay, I don't know how this got in there, nothing exciting happens at 19
20: You are no longer a teen/one year til you enter a life of alcoholism
21: You enter a life of alcoholism
22: Umm...three years until my car insurance goes down? Yes!

Another reason why Dan rules.

I have aches and pains in areas that I don't even know how to stretch. I have no idea how people run every day, but soon, I will enter their ranks. I've decided I really want to train for a marathon, most likely in April or May so I havep lenty of time. Anyone in the area know anything good for a beginner that I could give a shot?

I've wanted to start jogging for a long time now. I have a lot of free time this upcoming year, seeing as how I have, maybe, six friends in the entire northern VA area, and I figure I can either spend this time getting in better shape or getting in worse shape, which is how I've spent most of the free time in my life thus far. Finally, yesterday, I told myself I couldn't put it off any longer and went for a run. First off, I don't know how I USED to run in high school, but I don't remember waking up the next day unable to move the lower half of my body. This is a new development in the physiology of Steve. Apparently, my body likes the shape it is in. I'm not sure how far I ran yesterday, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't more than a mile, which, by the standards of everyone in the world who can see their genitalia over their stomachs, is pretty bad. At this point, I can make one of three decisions:
1.) start dieting (right...I eat like most barnyard animals, and I rather enjoy it)
2.) resume a life of sloth and just pray that one day they will invent a machine that exercises for me
3.) keep up the regiment of jogging small distances every day, coming back when my body utterly gives out on me, and bitching about it for the next twenty-four hours
I know which one I SHOULD pick, but #2 sounds damn appealing.

You'll never guess who picked up both Reefer Madness and Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo on DVD today for $5 a piece...



Did you guess me? That's right, I did. And I'm going to enjoy every moment of both of these steaming piles of the movie industry.

It's taken me a while, but I think I've come around and finally decided (at this point) that Howard Dean is my vote for president. At first, I heard so many rumors that he was a psycho liberal, even more so than me, that I just believed them and dismissed him as someone who could not win. However, I've been reading a lot about his campaign and his beliefs lately, and he seems like the best Democrat for the job. The only thing I really have any qualms about is having a president named "Howard", but I think I can get over that.

I don't know how many of you noticed this, but I have my very own Launchcast radio station. It's a pretty cool feature where you input music you like and then the station plays back your music plus new music that other people who like your music are into. I've discovered a few bands through the system, but it does have it's quirks. For example, I rated the song "Swing Swing" by the All-American Rejects rather highly. Unfortunately, there are three separate albums in the Launch database which contain this song, so I hear the song, on average, three times an hour. It's a good song, but that's a bit much. Dan said there was something wrong with the "algorithm". I see no reason to bring the ex-vice president into this.



Also, every once in a while, they sneak in a song that they want you to like regardless of your tastes. The other day they tried to play "Born in the USA" by Bruce Springsteen. Nowhere on my list of songs I enjoyed was there a Bruce Springsteen song, or a reference to a Bruce Springsteen song, or probably even any artists who have the initials B.S. I'm not really sure where they got the idea that I wanted to hear that song. Call it Launch's lame attempt to make me a patriotic American, but I tricked the system by restarting it, and haven't heard any good ol' blue collar rock since.



However, earlier today, they did the same thing with a Whitesnake song. Whitesnake! What the hell?! I imagine that in the history of the internet no one has even typed the phrase "whitesnake" into a search engine*, unless they were searching for albino serpents and forgot to insert a space. There's no way I would POSSIBLY request that song. I don't know if this is a 2003 instance of a payola scandal or something, but I am pretty sure Whitesnake wasn't on my playlist due to their overwhelming popularity. Then again, payola requires money...and this is Whitesnake we are talking about. Maybe it was pity placement, or something like that. Poor, pathetic Whitesnake.

*Except for me, who had to find the picture above. However, I swear it was one of the most frightening experiences ever, as Google gave me this dirty look that I could tell meant "Are you kidding me?! Whitesnake?!"