a great album that everyone should own and listen to at a very high volume

I just finished reading Killing Yourself to Live by Chuck Klosterman, which I bought at a thrift store in lieu of buying a shirt. It's pretty good, although I am sure that CK is the kind of guy I would never be friends with and might in fact take a drunken swing at if he tried to say some smart shit to me. No, that's horrible. Maybe it's just the way I imagine his voice. Maybe it's that author picture of him on the back cover, that smirk that says "Heh." followed by something witty or some bullshit. But don't let that dissuade, the book is hilarious and I really like that CK likes stuff without irony. I don't really understand liking stuff ironically, or even those so called guilty pleasures, why should I feel any guilt about a badass song by the goddamn Scorpions, it fucking rules! So I guess I'm on the same page with CK on that. Basically the book is about Chuck driving through America stopping at the various places that rock and rollers have died, which is pretty cool/morbid, but there is a lot more to it, lots of memories and nostalgia and weird characters. Sometimes it's sad and sometimes it's funny and sometimes it made me think about memories and how sad and funny they are. I had a dream about someone I haven't seen in years and she told me that she was getting married and that everything was all good now, when I woke up I was kinda bummed out. I am blaming it on Killing Yourself to Live. I dug it and I would've gladly paid 2 bucks for it which is twice as much as I actually paid. There's a great quote "Rock'n'roll is only superficially about guitar chords: it's really about myth."

I'm halfway through Popular Hits of the Showa Era by Ryu Murakami. It's a novel centered around escalating murders between 2, for lack of a better word, gangs of seemingly normal people. It's kinda dark but there's been a few moments where I have laughed out loud in real life, specifically on the train on tuesday night.

At work today I bagged up a bunch of candy to give away to trick or treaters on Halloween, which is really the happiest time of year. My boss was all "put only 3 pieces of candy in each bag." But if you have seen how small "fun size" candy is then you know that 3 pieces of candy is fucking sad. Instead I put a whole bunch of candy in each bag because Halloween is the happiest time of year. As a result of the heat/humidity and the vast amount of candy I ate I ended up feeling sorta pukey earlier, but I feel fine now. Or maybe it was just the lingering effects of K.Y.t.L. At first I had the candy in some big buckets that used to contain rat poison, mainly because my boss suggested it last year and I know a good gag when I see one even though he didn't understand why it was funny. One of my coworkers pointed out that I probably shouldn't do that. I said why not, told him that it's fucking Halloween, and pointed out that I had hosed them off. Later on he pointed out that it says on the label of the rat poison buckets to get rid of them by incineration if possible and NOT TO BREATHE IN THE FUMES. This amused me to no end. When I came back from lunch to find that he had replaced those biohazard green buckets with boring regular buckets. It's not like the candy is in direct contact with the bucket (which is hosed down anyway), there's the plastic bag and then the candy is wrapped up in its factory wrapping. A little rat poison never hurt anyone, in fact it adds tang. Furthermore: fuck you, bucket. I'll breathe in whatever fumes I damn well wish.

Last night I found out that people don't know that the Beach Boys used a theremin in Good Vibrations. Ever since reading about how twisted Brian Wilson is I can't help but notice the tinge of darkness that is in every Beach Boys song I hear. Of course I'm not constantly listening to them because I'd really rather listen to bands I actually like because they rock not just because they are weird. Judas Priest > Beach Boys. TALKING ABOUT JUDAS PRIEST, there's a Judas Priest tribute band playing this saturday. I might go.

At the thrift store I got a pair of jeans, the book, and 2 Ramnstein cds. I was over joyed to find a copy of a Sepultura's Morbid Visions but when I looked inside there was a copy of Limp Bizkit's Signficant Other, which is a real downer. No worries, I thought, there's the case for that right there. You know what was inside of that? A fucking Korn cd. There was a bunch of rock cds for sale, many of them lame, some of them good, but mostly not. It was like someone's own collection and they were forced to get rid of it, which would explain why they had a great album that everyone should own and listen to at a very high volume (Highway to Hell by AC/DC), and a plethora of terrible shit. That AC/DC album was left in the stack on accident, sadly packaged with Limp Bizkit and Korn and some other lame shit. What sorrow. I also looked for mixtapes but didn't find any. They are hardly ever good, but they are always interesting cultural artifacts. I often wonder what became of the mixtapes I gave to people. I guess I should wonder about the people too, but I am a terrible human being.

When I was getting lunch one a dude asked me if I had a moment for gay rights. I looked into his eyes, smiled, and said no. I think all people should be free and that no one is above anyone else. I agree that we should as a species try to keep the earth from a human caused apocalypse. I think it would be cool if people stopped hunting whales. But I don't have any fucking money. Next time one of those fuckers stop me I'm going to ask them if they "Have a moment for Bruno rights?"

Did you hear about the cop that was plotting to kidnap and eat women? Well, here it is. Fucked up.
Neatorama has a great series on legendary monsters from all over the world going on right now.

Here's pt 1 of the North American edition. I, like a jackalope, can also be caught if you use whiskey as bait. Until tonight I had never heard of the Loveland Frog.

Last week I caught the original Nightmare on Elm Street at the Logan Square Theater, it was a blast. (A shout out to Her Body Is My Coffin and Recalentado )  Earlier I ran into this article claiming that it was a real thing and now I am fucking terrified, the whole thing sounds even creepier than the movie. Of course Wes Craven could be making the whole thing up. Of course I could just be saying that to make myself feel better.