The Dead Weather

Jack White, you've done it again.

Maybe it's because I'm a fan of the White Stripes and The Raconteurs or maybe it's because I'm a fan of lyrical stories told over bass pounding drums and limitless guitar riffs, but I'm thinking I'm really going to dig this new album from The Dead Weather.

I just downloaded it. I've watched the introductory video for Treat Me Like Your Mother, directed by Jonathan Glazer. Now all it's going to take is a few more times through the iPod until I'm completely hooked.

If you asked me to name my top three favorite artists, I'd answer without hesitation: Perry Farrell, Billy Corgan and Jack White. Yes, there are a slew of others that round out my all-time favorite tune-tailors, but right now everything Jack touches turns to gold.

He's even got Aesthetic Apparatus on board doing some concert posters (I totally dig this print shop from Minneapolis. I've got an entire collection of their Doombuddies series.) I might have to purchase these (Sorry, Mieka. We need to get that bigger house with more wall space.)

The sad news is that the closest I'll be to seeing them live on this inaugural tour is Austin. Unfortunately, I'm in St. Louis. Maybe a trip to Denver is in order. Or maybe I'll see them in 3 years after they release their second album ... and Mr. White is on to his next project.


Listen. You hear that? Shitwinds are coming. Shitwinds.

Mr. Lahey is the greatest trailer park supervisor in the history of drunks. You have to respect his shitsnares and his shithawks and his shitbarometers. He's the man with the plan. And it's all the clearer the drunker he gets.

If you haven't seen or heard of Canada's very own The Trailer Park Boys, then you've been missing out. Direct TV picked up the series and is running it on the 101. It's probably the best sitcom of all times. Some say that It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia is the best written show on TV, and to those fools I say, "you're just climbing up a shitrope."

Enjoy the link to the Mr. Lahey soundboard. Then enjoy the series: http://trailerparkboys.com/


There's Security on the Upper Deck

Obama throws out the first pitch at the All-Star game, and his secret service agents get the worst seats in the house. My nose is bleeding just looking at the pics. 

Can you see 'em up there standing on the edge? I bet they can see my house from there. 


10 TVs - That's as close as I got to the game.

At least the bar was selling stale nachos for $1. Not exactly ballpark quality, but the price was right. 

The Heat Is On

Cars are burning! Firefighters are smashing windows. I smell like burning rubber now. It's lunch time. Yay!

Load Up, All-Stars

The festivities begin. The All-Stars are piled into the backs of trucks to drive around downtown and wave to the thousands of baseball fans. What a beautiful moment...