Rubblebucket @ Tiny Desk

floss that sweaturrr, rubble princess.

So, by far the catchiest tune on this is the first song, “Carousel Ride.” The whole set is really nice though. I actually enjoy this recording better than any other on YouTube. The singer, regrettably, has little little performance energy (that may be a stylistic choice), but here she performs with a seemingly earnest effervescence, and I think it suits her. I also like that the instrumental sounds are natural here, and the brass shines through nicely.

Nature Valley granola bars are absurd, and their popularity is unfair.

Take: This is the worst designed snack in the history of snacks and it somehow makes tons of money being awful at what it does.

Does that sound fair to you? It does if you’re stupid.

Let’s be real, Nature Valley granola bars taste pretty good, and they’re, like, not horrible for you. That’s literally all they have going for them.

I am obviously upset about the mess they make. Am I the only one? No, I am not.

Is there an excuse for this? Oh, yes, my friends, there are excuses, and they’re about as flimsy as a gypsy penny whistle. Behold the evidence I have uncovered as I unraveled the Matrix:

Exhibit A

Google autocomplete doesn’t lie. It tells you the future AND the past. Someone else was here before me, they looked too. Did they live? I’m not a doctor. What did they find? Well, a whole lot of bullshit.

This is such a problem, there’s even an apparel campaign.

Exhibit B

Yo dawg, your body is political.

I’m so enraged I’d have bought one to air my grievances, but they don’t sell Youth XL baby tees, so that’s kind of a deal breaker.


GQ- A MEN’S FASHION MAGAZINE HAS A GODDAMN ARTICLE ON HOW TO EAT THESE CREATING MINIMAL CRUMBS. Is your snack too messy? Maybe that’s a sign- when a major publication has to tell people how to accommodate you. Why are we enabling this? Why are we teaching society to tolerate this, like somehow, as with the iPhone with bad reception, oops, we were just using it wrong?

Exhibit C

Finally, this, from the Daily Meal:

Exhibit D

Again, this company is actually giving public explanations as to why its product in short, fails at the fundamentals of convenient food conveyance which is a pillar of the snack virtues.

That last line gets me: “There’s some sort of sweet nostalgia sbout snacking this way- covered in a dust of granola.”

Are you out of your fucking mind? Nostalgia for being covered in granola dust? What else do you think the past was like?

I’m going to go back to watching The Crown now, after I finish vacuuming.

So Paul Gauguin… Might have been a mega creep. Who knew?

So I was listening to the Podcast Politiquement Incorrect with Richard Martineau, and they had a verrry interesting discussion of Paul Gauguin, the celebrated French painter who depicted the idyllic world of Tahiti and other exotic locii.

Turns out he might absolutely have been a total creep, and it wasn’t even that much of a secret. Take a look at this article from the Guardian from way back in 2001. It’s an article that I could only describe as a total hit piece but that it were written by the Guardian. (Don’t get me wrong, they’re a little heavy-handed in all their work, but they still do good journalism).

Apparently this debate is not over, as evidenced by this screenshot of a Google News search for Paul Gauguin. I guess the New York Times decided to revive this issue once again. How fun.

I don’t see what the big deal is. I went to an exhibition of George Bush Jr.’s paintings of wounded Iraq service members, and no one warned me that I was looking at art made by a war criminal depicting the very Americans maimed by his lies, greed, and hubris. No one talked about banning that. Art is made by angels and monsters. It bears witness to the minds of our species, ugly, beautiful, hopeful, sickening.

Blitzen Trapper- Love the Way You Walk Away

Pacific Northwest mid-twenties male angst at its finest.

I don’t remember if I previously posted a link to this band. If I did, it was probably for their single, Furr. This song is entirely different, and as a newcomer to Blitzen, I’m quickly finding they have a very diverse sound. As some others commented on their Youtube videos, I wonder where I was when these guys seemed to be in high production mode. Enjoy.

The 2020 Chevy Stingray Convertible is an American Street Stalker.

The car’s website released its pricing calculator, so the guys at Motor1 went on to see how much it would be to max out the options. Turns out it’ll be just under $114,000.

It’s worth noting that, yes, that’s expensive, but the base model convertible is around $67,000, with a $7,000 premium over the coupe, so $60,000 is still pretty reasonable for people inclined to spend their money on such things.

It’s nice to see Chevy hasn’t completely gone out of control with pricing, but it does seem it’s flirting with the idea, which I hope is short-lived, since it has traditionally occupied a nice pricing area of the sports car market, and does have a an extremely loyal following who deserve some loyalty back.

Speaking of those loyal fans, I understand there are some critics of the styling. It is insanely aggressive, and frankly, I like the Stingray reboot as it was, but this car is pretty hot in its own right. I hope, though, that it will not borrow too much more aggressively from the styling of its European counterparts. That’s kind of the point, after all.

You can read the breakdown of options and see more photos here:

RTJ- Lie, Cheat, Steal

Their lyrics are incomparable

Smoke from the loosie drift
Hold it like a crucifix
Blow from the nose I’m a dragon to a gnome
Got a average of bein’ excellent the median just dope
Like the ratio of heroin to laxative that’s sold
Authorities have spoken, demanded your pure devotion
Get magnetized to the ground while the falcons of murder close in
I chose to go guano, y’all know, kinda bat shit
The bright lights of fuckery stuck in me automatic
I’ll tea bag a piranha tank, heart barely beatin’
A wild one who’ll swim like directly after he’s eaten
While holding a toaster oven that’s plugged with a fork in it
Cause death by electrocution’s like life in New York, isn’t it?
Shoulda been a dentist, mom said it

Pains the way that my craft expresses
Born in a little shop of horrors that I can’t even afford to rent in
Where’s the exit?
Wanna talk shop I can chop it up with exacto touch, whats the rush?
Autograph skin flaps, tag em up
I don’t brag enough you defacto suck
A lotta you new to the El Producto milieu
Kinda like “fuck is you?”
I’m a little black spot on a sun of lies
But I’m not too high to say I’m the truth
I line the booth to catch blood like a Bateman
Nathan sacred I’ll mace a play pen
Jewel runner bitch make the name stick
Not for sale but I’m takin payments

Lie, cheat, steal, kill, win
(Everybody doin’ it)
Lie, cheat, steal, kill, win
Everybody doin’ it
Lie, cheat, steal, kill, win
(Everybody doin’ it)
Lie, cheat, steal, kill, win

I’m fly as a pegasus, that’s no embellishment
I’m here to pain the whole game, where the Excedrin
Good pussy, good marijuana that be my medicine
And I’m a mixture of MJG and the Weathermen
A revolutionary bangin’ on my adversaries
And I love Dr. King but violence might be necessary
Cause when you live on MLK and it gets very scary
You might have to pull your AK, send one to the cemetery
We overworked, underpaid, and we underprivileged
They love us, they love us (why?)
Because we feed the village
You really made it or just became a prisoner of privilege?
You willing to share that information that you’ve been given?
Like who really run this?
Like who really run that man that say he run this?
Who who really run that man that say he run this, run run run run this?
Like who really fund this?
Like who really fund who say he fund this?
Like who in the world gon’ tell Donald Sterl who to put on the “you can’t come” list?
Now don’t be silly
Who the fuck gon’ bully me if I got a billy?
If I got a billy and the bitch recording me I’m like who cares
What I wouldn’t be is on TV stutterin’ ta-ta-talkin’ scared
So the question is when Don’s at home with that traitor ass bitch alone
Who’s that voice on the side of the phone that shakes and rattles his bones?
Could it be the man behind the man behind the man behind the throne?

Everybody doin’ it

Somali Food in Denver at Mandeeq’s East African Restaurant

Thunder Queen and I dipped into this East African restaurant at the corner of Havana and Florida a couple of weeks ago for lunch. We wanted something different, so we got ourselves something different. That’s what bosses do.

Let’s go back to that word: different. Mandeeq’s was definitely different. Its decor was Chinese, from the walls to the plates. The menu had little in the way of any descriptions other than the types of meats you could order and the sides available.

But there was something familiar in that difference. Rather than being a strange spread of bizarre and unrecognizable foods, this was a mixture of many things recognizable, so don’t be scurred.

In fact, the pleasant surprise we found in this place was that in incorporates the flavors of diverse regions, from the Mediterranean Near East, to Ethiopia, to India. In short, one finds ingredients from all points along the spice routes connecting the East and West.

We found the soup we were served to be particularly succulent. It smacked of warm Indian spices and probably was based in a lamb bone broth. The meat was delicious. The leg of lamb I had tasted like it came right out of someone’s crock pot. I like that. I like that a lot. The vegetables reminded us of the kind you find heaped onto injeera in your favorite Abyssinian restaurant.*

I believe the bill was approximately $13.00-$15.00 each. I mention this because there were no prices on the menu. It was plenty of food, more than plenty, and it was well cooked and healthy tasting.

In short, don’t go for the decor (does anyone, really?). Go for the food. Catch a soccer game on one of the small televisions, and relax. The people are friendly and they know how to cook. Go hang out with them.

*I occasionally use outdated geographic terms. You should get used to it, because it’s not going to change, Burma.

Les Soeurs Boulay- Chats Sauvages

Un chat qu’on ne sait pas apprivoiser. J’en ai connu un.

On n’apprivoise pas les chats sauvages
Pas plus qu’on met en cage les oiseaux de la terre
Faut les laisser aller comme on les laisse venir au monde
Faut surtout les aimer jamais chercher à les garder
Tout doucement je veux voyager
En te jasant d’amour et de liberté

On n’emprisonne pas les cœurs volages
Pas plus qu’on coupe les ailes aux oiseaux de la terre
Faut les laisser aller toujours sans chercher à comprendre
Ils marchent seuls et n’ont qu’un seul langage
Celui de l’amour, celui de la vie
Ils chantent pour toi si t’en as envie

J’me sens un peu comme le chat sauvage
Et j’ai les ailes du cœur volage
J’veux pas qu’on m’apprivoise
J’veux pas non plus qu’on m’mette en cage
J’veux être aimer pour ce que j’ai à te donner
Tout doucement je veux voyager
En te jasant d’amour et de liberté

Cette chanson elle est pour nous
Elle jase d’amour et de liberté

Cette chanson elle est pour nous
Elle jase d’amour et de liberté