twosday

Back in the library ladies and gents where, believe it or not, some of my best blogging is done. It’s a beautiful day in middle America today. The sun is out and the wind is a blowing. This past weekend was a steamy one. Steamy in that it was both hot as the dickens and rainy like Seattle. I bet Lollapalooza was damn near intolerable for some. I’m too much of an old man to be able to handle crowds like that for three consecutive days in crappy weather with crappy, overpriced food. Pitchfork nearly overwhelmed me as it was and that was a significantly smaller and more relaxed event, probably.

Imran is super excited about the black versions of the new LeBron’s I posted a picture of the other day. Check em out. I don’t know if they will help Imran dunk (he is 6’5″) but at least he’ll look good trying. Zing!

But will Imran be able to dunk in these?

But will Imran be able to dunk in these?

Though my love of sneakers is well known I have been mostly rocking a pair of boat shoes all summer. My man Joe Parilla in DC has apparently been doing the same. The comfort is unparalleled and it fits with my desired New England/black aristocrat aesthetic that I’ve been trying to cultivate all summer. With a pair of chino shorts and a pastel polo shirt I look truly douchy (sp?). Thing is, put it with a pair of tight enough jeans and a dope t-shirt and I magically turn into a hipster. Maybe I’m toeing the line between hipster and prepster, like a certain band named after the leisurely time spent with blood sucking monsters. Something, frankly, that I think we all dream about frequently.

Everyone’s favorite Kenyan-born, communist dictator of America had a town hall today and unlike all of those town halls held by mere members of Congress people were respectful. Of course, maybe its just that people in New Hampshire, despite their badass state motto, are more inclined to be respectful to our duly elected public officials. Or, the mere prospect of spitting vitriol at el commisar himself scared the daylights out of all of those disruptive tea baggers partiers. That’s just my theory but I’m gonna stick with it.

Speaking of the health care debate, a friend of mine who is knee deep in politics has helped get a group together to get down and dirty in the fight (and I think it is literally becoming a fight) for universal health care. Check out their site. Take a peep, sign up and spread the word. Also, The Nation posted this useful answer sheet to questions about health care reform. Of course, people reading The Nation are already more likely to be educated, sane individuals but it’s still a good, worthwhile read. Wink wink.

Also, a short film directed by Spike Jonze starring Kanye West is going to be released in a month or so on iTunes. I read the synopsis and my first thought was wtf mate? I can only imagine the kind of weird shit that Kanye will accomplish over the course of his career. What a bizarre dude. No Homo!

Also, this season of Entourage is so thoroughly mediocre I can hardly believe I still watch it. If it wasn’t such an easily digestible distraction and took any mental effort at all to consume I probably would have given up on it ages ago. I’m beginning to think I could spend that 25 minutes a week watching something else but I’m not in the mood to get into a new show as Battlestar Galactica (amazing) already swallowed up enough of my summer. I know True Blood is all the rage right now but it sounds thoroughly boring.

Also, this is from a few days ago but Mike Dumke at the Chicago Reader has an interesting solution to Chicago’s budgetary woes. Given a conversation I had this morning about the different (more sane and chilled out) way that Canada treats mary jane consumption I think this is apropo.

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One thought on “twosday

  1. So just because you burned Imran, you had to make his ass two inches taller? Is that some sort of bropensation? jk jk. I also like how this post is a bricolage of all the things you’ve been watching/looking at for the past day. Now that’s how a blog should be. Form and content, so happy together.

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