Flashcube

MSNBC is currently running a story that states that January 24th is the worst day of the year and they have the science to prove it.

The model is:
[W + (D-d)] x TQ
M x NA

The equation is broken down into seven variables: (W) weather, (D) debt, (d) monthly salary, (T) time since Christmas, (Q) time since failed quit attempt, (M) low motivational levels and (NA) the need to take action.

I would tend to agree after I was incredibly sick for most of the day starting at half past midnight and extending well into the evening. The cause has been traced to either some suspect chile or an ailment that one of my nieces gave me. So that coupled with the typical Seasonal Affective Disorder and my current non-working situation leads up to nothing but great times. But there is a silver lining to all this: while huddled up in a blanket staving off illness I managed to cross off two movies from my “to watch” list – Sling Blade and Midnight Cowboy. Tomorrow’s another day.

Here’s an expansive portfolio of images of British, French, American and British celebrities from the 1960′s. By expansive I mean 15 pages worth so get comfortable. There’s also a colour portfolio that’s well worth a look.

Nippop is an excellent resource for information on Japanese music. Thankfully, it covers the gamut by featuring articles on both mainstream and indie artists and even a feature on the excellent Supercar; a band in which I can not say enough good things about.

It’s tough being a musician. You play to unappreciative audiences and try and convince other people that you’re the shit and that they should play with you while they gush over some other crappy band. Sometimes all you really need is an edge; Something that sets you apart from the rest of the indie-rockers and scenesters. This edge comes in the form of The Prodikeys; a keyboard so fantastic that if I play it on stage I’ll be gratified (both sexually and consentually) before I even reach the chorus. If you don’t believe me then watch this video of the best drums played on a keyboard ever. This is rock and roll!!! Thanks Jay for the link.

Here’s a website (in Portuguese) that shows various photos of rock stars as children. Things of note: Noel Gallagher has looked the same his entire life; KISS should have been born with makeup; Marilyn Manson has his fathers nose; Steven Tyler’s childhood photo reminds me of a former upstairs neighbour.

Yesterday’s link had a bit of dancing theme to it so I figured to go with it for another day with this link to a movie of Norwegian disco lessons. The file is rather large so a high-speed internet connection is recommended. It also starts off pretty slow with the basic steps being shown before it busts out into a full on dance party about half-way through. Everyone can use some disco moves in their dancing repetoire. Now’s your chance.

Love is a many splendored thing. It’s make the heart flutter . It makes all ones problems seem inconsequential. Perhaps one day I’ll meet the girl of my dreams. She’s be more than just my girl though; she’ll be my accomplice. We’ll go shopping for French bread and brie, commit armed robbery, and seek shelter with the rest of my extended family on the Micronesian island of Kosrae. It seems so idyllic yet so far away and just the mere thought of it makes me want to put on some glasses, a dark wig, Chuck Taylors and dance my ass off. You should dance too.

What kind of sixties person am I? Well according to the quiz here I’m a Go Go Girl. I’m not sure what to think of that because I was consiously trying to tailor my answers for something completely different. At least I didn’t end up hippie.

Okay, so I didn’t get the job I interviewed for twice and I’m still destitute but I there’s a bright side to everything. Like the fact that I get to spend extra amount of time on this website and not going outside other than jogging. For example all I did this evening after the afore-mentioned jogging was eat ju jubes and create the logo for the flashcube.org merchandise that I am now selling.

Yup! I’ve got everything from BBQ Aprons to Camisoles, Thongs to Bibs. I’d buy one myself if I wasn’t a jobless, poor motherfucker that you won’t see much of until I’m working again. I know, I know it sort of shatters the image of myself that I try to build up but the truth is far more pathetic (and consequently funnier) than you could ever, ever imagine. But enough of that, buy my stuff.

If you take away the rampant violence and bloodshed then there’s a certain comraderie to being in a gang that can’t be beat. Not only do you get your choice of fabulous colours to choose from based on your affiliation, but you also get organized sports and cookouts to attend.

The only reason reason I haven’t joined a gang is because no one is sporting chartreuse. But that’s okay because I’ve started my own. I haven’t thought up a name yet but I have come up with a fantastic gang sign. It involves taking your right hand and extending the index finder with the thumb extended at a 90 degree angle to it. Then you put it to your forehead. The funny thing is that I just thought of it tonight and it’s already taking off. By the looks of things in the image to the right Jeri Ryan’s already joined.