My Affliction with Affliction.

I was watching the Today Show this morning and Kathie Lee and Hoda were judging some kind of twin talent competition. There were two guys in their late 20’s (maybe early 30’s) who played the electric violin…they were quite impressive. Until I looked closer and one of the twins was wearing one of those ultra-douchey Affliction shirts. Jesus Christ, how long do we have to deal with those decorative swirl shirts with the Old English lettering?? I mean, damn. This is a trend that must be stopped. We (mostly) put an end to the trucker hat phenomenon, now it is time to collectively end the reign of douchery. If you also have some kind of rhinestone embellishment on your mens decorative swirl shirt, you get double douche points. What did Khloe Kardashian call Scott Disick? A Dousche Lord? Yep, I like that. (Although, Scott Disick would never be caught dead in an Affliction shirt. It would clash with his ascot and boat shoes…I watch too much tv.)

Henceforth, I deem all males wearing swirly shirts with rhinestones DOUCHE LORDS, and the women with the overly rhinestoned pockets are deemed their Douche Ladies. They need crowns and sashes. Or maybe just a trucker hat…that should suffice.

Back to the point, so there were these amazingly talented electric violin playing twins and I was totally distracted by his douchey fucking shirt! I started thinking, who styled him for the show? Who thought that was the best possible fashion choice for national television? Was this his favorite outfit? Why wasn’t his twin wearing an equally douchey shirt? Shouldn’t there be a twin thing where one is biologically required to assist the other in avoiding crimes of douchery? Apparently not.

Other than Affliction shirts, I would like to add other douchey fashion crimes to my On Notice List:

1.       Shirts that may have any of the  following embellishments: beads, sequins, rivets , gems, studs, metallic paint, or any sort of dragon imagery.

2.       Rhinestones. On any piece of clothing. Unless you are under the age of 8.

3.       Ed Hardy anything.

4.       Popped collars.

5.       Mustaches. The pretend kind, not the real ones. Tom Selleck is still awesome.

6.       Things with intentional holes, especially but not limited to, shirts.

7.       Overuse of leggings as actual pants.

8.   Flat brimmed baseball caps, extra points if the sticker is still on.

9.   Aeropostal. (even Stacy London said it’s a juniors brand, NO ONE over 21 should step foot in the store, let alone wear the brand name proudly displayed across their chest)

10.   Abercrombie & Fitch. Especially after the whole “no fat people can shop here” press. And again, not if you are over 21. It is time to grow up, please. (But, keep sending me the catalogue, the men are pretty damn hot)

11.   Juicy, Sexy or Baby across the ass of your cotton pants/shorts. Come on, it should just say “slut puppy”.

12.   Pants that may have any of the following embellishments: beads, sequins, rivets, gems, studs, metallic paint, or any sort of dragon imagery.

13.   Kanye West. He just annoys me.

 

Just a moment of full disclosure…I had to look up how to spell “douchey”.

Side note: Sometimes spelled “douchy”.

 I am still confused, but either way, we all know what I am talking about. Right? And we all agree, right? Right?

xoxo

 

All hail the Douche Lord: Affliction shirt and 

flamboyantly embellished pockets.

 

Oh, how I love thee, DMB.

 

Review from The Houston Chronicle, DMB concert 1999. Yep, I scrapbooked it.

 

My obsession began in 1997. Me and a tape of Dave Matthews Band’s Crash. At least I think it was Crash, it could have been Under the Table and Dreaming, but who knows. For the sake of the story, imagine I am 15 and listening to Crash while sitting on a dock of a lake near an apartment building with a couple of friends gathered around smoking cigarettes and listening to a guy play guitar.

Yeah, we were rebels. Clichéd high school rebels. Sure there was a little drinking, maybe some weed later on, and I know some people were having sex- but not me. I didn’t so much as even really date in high school. Yes, I know, I sound awesome. Please don’t feel sorry for me, I had friends and a social life, I just couldn’t figure out the dating thing. Honestly, I am not sure how I snagged a husband, that must have been an awkward courtship. (Thanks honey, I love you!)

So, there I am listening to DMB (the B side of my mix tape was Ben Folds Five) driving around our little town. My first concert was in ’98, I think. I waited in line at the Ticketmaster box office at the mall for my tickets. We didn’t have a speedy internet connection back then- and I sure as hell wasn’t willing to take the risk and miss out on my favorite day of the summer!  (Remember in Empire Records- “Its Rex Manning Day!” That is how I feel about DMB- “Its Dave Matthews Day!!”)

Fast forward 2 years, I am a freshman in college, still obsessed and I decide to get the (unofficial logo) DBM firedancer tattoo from the local tattoo parlor right across from campus. I settled on my hip for the location of said tattoo. Actually, it’s slightly lower and my mom’s first comment was “that is going to stretch out and look crazy if you get pregnant”.  For the record, I carried small and it never did stretch to mammoth proportions. Thankfully. 

 I am at the tattoo parlor and the guy has placed the stencil onto my hip and is prepping the area. While swabbing the area he comments,(please remember that I didn’t date ever) “I like a girl with a nice bush”. OMG.  Those words are forever burned into my psyche. He truly meant this as complementary, but I was still mortified and apparently naive enough not to realize that college co-eds were shaving all their womanly areas bald. I mean, bald? Really? Who want to feel like an 8 year old girl during sexy time?

As it turns out, he pushed too hard with the tattoo needle and screwed up my tattoo. I went to another guy later to try and salvage the damage done but he said the first guy went too deep creating a lot of scar tissue and causing the lines to blur. Its not my favorite tattoo, but I don’t regret it. The tattoo commemorates such a specific moment in time. I still love DMB and eventually plan to add to the firedancer in hopes to salvage the piece somehow.

16 years and over 16 concerts later, I am still in love with Dave Matthews Band. This past concert was my favorite. Of all time. Ever. It was amazing, spectacular, wondrous, moving and fabulous!! They played The Song That Jane likes (an somewhat obscure really old song), an extended version of Crush and Shake Me Like A Monkey for the encore. It was perfection. Honestly, Dave can do no wrong. (Except maybe that incident where the tour bus accidently unloaded the potty contents into a river somehow. But they paid for the damage and made a generous monetary donation, too.)

I suppose this has been my longest love affair. 16 years of compatibility, honesty and support. They have seen me through the good times, sad times, happy times, driving around in the car smoking cigarette times…thanks Dave- for always being there.

xoxo

 

The DMB firedancer.

 

Whiskey Woman

My thoughts on whiskey:

·         All the cool kids drink it: the dudes on Mad Men, Ryan Gosling in Crazy, Stupid, Love, Dave Matthews, Mark Twain, The Rat Pack…yes, I realize they are all men. OH, and my super awesome mother (who calls a whiskey and coke a Becky Special) and the ever lovely Annie Scott.

·         It has two spellings. And the origin of said liquor seems to matter heavily. ie: Canada, Tennessee, Kentucky, Ireland

·         It can be prepared many ways: neat, on the rocks, a splash or water/soda, with coke, over a sugar cube with bitters and an orange twist. Its versatile.

·         Sometimes makes me crave a cigarette, but I ALWAYS refrain. Seriously.

·         Is sometimes flavored into cigars. You don’t see Absolut Citron cigars.

·         Sour mash is good. I used to (when I first started drinking whiskey) like Jack Daniels, now I cannot drink it. Too sweet or something, its just not my thing anymore.

·         Whiskey can be added to tea and honey to make a soothing drink when you are under the weather. That’s awesome.

·         Whiskey cures what ails ya. Truthfully, I think this is true. Copious amounts of amber goodness are necessary to maintain optimum health.

·         Whiskey barrels can be used as planters after they are done aging the liquor…and are used in wood chips for grilling.

·         OH- AND GET THIS…Tabasco (my favorite condiment known to man) uses whiskey barrels to age tabasco, too.

·         You feel sophisticated drinking it. Unless its straight from the bottle- then you feel like a baddass.

xoxo

Social Pariah and Visable Tattoos

I was listening to NPR yesterday after dropping the tiny tot off at preschool and they were discussing on-line privacy issues. More specifically, they discussed the crazy-insane amount of information that Facebook gathers from its bagillion users. Of course the program also talked about employers searching potential employees as a standard part of the hiring process. I couldn’t help but wonder if I would have to clean up my internet presence if I was to interview for a real job in the future. I don’t know what kind of “real” job that would be- but am I already screwing myself out of a potential job just by writing my blog?

I am honest, maybe to a fault, and I put out a lot of my thoughts out there for public consumption. I find it a fabulous outlet to maintain my voice in a sometimes mundane daily life that rarely requires higher level thinking. Fortunately, Dora walks me right through her adventures, with the help of Map. So, lets say that I wanted to be a teacher- I assume my blog antics might cost me the job educating children. I curse, I drink and I am very pro-choice. I voted for Obama, I like reading smutty books and I have tattoos.

Speaking of tattoos…I have three tattoos, none that are visible. I haven’t gotten a tattoo since 2001, and I think that means it’s about damn time for another one. My husband HATES tattoos. He HATES that I want to get another one. But- like the good wife I am, I have delayed my desire for more decorative body art…until now. I have been searching for the perfect tattoo and I found it!! Wahoo!!  I am getting it on the underside of my left wrist. (Yes, I have heard this is a super painfully area. Shut it) But, now I am wondering if I am further alienating my chances to enter the work force later?

Do I care? Do I really want a job that wouldn’t hire me based on my adorable visible tattoo? Do I really want to work for a company that won’t hire me because I like to blog about politics? Do I really want to work for a company that thinks my use of Fuck is too flagrant? Eh, I sure hope not. Honestly, I have no true intention to gain full-time employment out in the “real world”. I don’t even know what I would do if I were to find a Mon-Fri gig with benefits and a salary. Currently my benefits are staying in my pajamas all day and my salary is hugs and kisses. But, despite my blogging, my cursing and my penchant for tattoos, my tiny employers still love me anyways. At this point, I suppose I wouldn’t have it any other way. I need to follow my heart- and my heart is firmly entrenched with my family.

xoxo

My super cool tattoo.

My Ode to '90's Rock.

Growing up I always wondered why my parents listened to Allman Brothers, CCR, Grateful Dead and such. It was the eighty’s and ninty’s and they were still stuck listening to what is now “classic rock”. I get it now. Today’s music sucks…or at least most of this shit they are playing on the radio passing off as the “newest hits”. That shit sucks. Hard.

I am what my husband would call- a huge nerd. I cannot listen to the fast paced chatter and commercial advertising on the radio. I listen to NPR almost exclusively. I am not trying to sound like some nerdy elitist snob who wears an ascot while waxing poetic…but my brain just cannot handle all the incessant NOISE! I need more focus and direction than Rhianna can offer me.

Lately, however, I have been listening to Pandora more often. Would you like to take a guess at my favorite station?? Nope, not DMB (too much Collective Soul). Nope, not Bob Schneider (too much Jack Johnson). Nope, not Michael Buble the Holiday collection (but good guess).

Answer: Bush. Yep, Bush radio. It is a heady blend of Gavin Rossdale, Scott Weiland, Dave Navarro, Chris Cornell and Anthony Keidis. Oh, man, its like my ‘90’s ultimate 6-some?? That just sounds complicated and messy...but, you get the theoretical idea.

 A gratuitous picture, just because I can. Enjoy.

 

Ella was annoyed by my musical choices this morning and complained that the songs were too “hard”. She went on to explain that she prefers Fresh Beat Band and her Ella Enchanted soundtrack. Perhaps she is a bit one-tracked too. After weeks on end of that kid crap music, I had to put my foot down. NO MORE FRESH BEAT BAND!! Headphones-that’s what she needs for Christmas. Pink ones. Then maybe she would use them and save me from singing Don’t Go Breaking My Heart for the 13,645 time. I wake up with that damn song in my head.

Anyways, I just wanted to share my love of ‘90’s rock. It makes me so happy. I have a lot more ‘90’s love to share, but that will be another post for another time. As for now, Alice in Chains is on…and you know we ain’t gonna die…oh no, no, we ain’t gonna die.

xoxo