T'was the year 19hairybush...

Hot wife: "So guess what? We were checking out a house today* and Jane** found a big box of porn. She took it home for her boyfriend."

Me: "I bet he was pretty happy about that."

Hot wife: "Yeah, but it was pretty old porn... probably from the year 19... hairy bush..."

Me: "19hairybush?"

Hot wife: "Yeah.. 19hairybush."

Me: "That was not a good year for porn..."

Hot wife: "Definitely not."

*Hot wife is in real estate.

**Name changed to protect the innocent... porn thief...

Nick

Spongebob Squarepants leads to child abuse...

As you probably know, I love Spongebob Squarepants. Who cares about hot child, he watches it because it's all I will allow on the tv. Anyways, to make a long story short, being the music fan I am, I was looking for Spongebob songs on youtube. In particular I was looking for the song Gary Come Home. It's a classic. Observe:



But, soon after I found that, I discovered something so heinous. So. Fucking. Wrong.



Now, don't get me wrong. I would never pick on a kid. His parents on the other hand deserve some serious jail time. For one, if there was some backround music at least, maybe your kid's voice wouldn't sound like a bad car accident. And actually the foot stomping and finger waving don't help. But besides that, who the fuck dressed this kid? Uh... you're going to be on YOUTUBE! Singing! And not very well I might add. The least you could do is, oh I don't know... wear matching clothes?!

Poor, poor kid. Don't worry bud, it's not your fault your parents are assholes.

Sad. So so sad.

Nick

Awesome fall haircut #1

Pumpkins: $2 each

Paint and paint brushes: $6

Letting mom cut your hair: not a good idea

Nick

Ig Nobel is German for stupid...

I haven't written much lately, I know. Mainly because when I usually write, on my lunch hour at work, I have been researching our family tree. It sounds dumb, but as you may or may not know I'm a history fanatic, and really, what better history than your own? Anyways... I thought since I have a second, I'd pop in. And funny you (actually I) should mention pop (or as us Wisconsinites call it - soda).

I read an article today about something called the Ig Nobels. What is that you ask? It's essentially a stupid prize. You create something stupid, research something stupid... you get an award. Because in this country, for some reason, we insist on recognizing, and in some cases rewarding stupidity.

Well kids, one of the latest winners deserves a big fuckin' prize for stupidity. For researching Coke (the soft drink, you druggies) for it's spermicidal qualities. And discovering that it... are you sitting down? BLOWS UP SPERM!

Yeah, that's right. Some dumbass heard that people were using Coke to apparently not get pregnant, tested it, and BLEW UP SPERM! Sperm. Blew it up. With Coke.

"It definitely wouldn't work as a contraceptive because sperm swims so fast," Deborah Anderson said. But Coke made with sugar quickly kills sperm, she said, probably because sperm soak it up. "The sperm just kind of explode," she said in a telephone interview.

Is that supposed to be funny or something? The sperm just kind of explode?

Here's an idea for some research... let's take the building block of life, mix it some with Coke and BLOW IT THE FUCK UP! Better yet, let's take Deborah Anderson, mix her with some Coke, and blow her the fuck up.

Leave. The. Sperm. Alone.

And damn you Coke. Damn you.

Nick

Malti!

Nothing drives a parent to their grave faster than horrible kids music. Luckily we only allow good kids music in our house... like Dan Zanes.







Nick

I got kids to feed... Jack...

Sometimes... at my day job... I feel like a robot too.



Nick

Jeremy Fisher

Jeremy Fisher is another unknown who should be known...



Nick

Gustav(e) is a family name

As we sat in the bar this past Saturday, celebrating the fact that God has once again attempted to clear the cesspool of a city we’ve come to known as New Orleans*, I thought back to the hard time we spent in that God-forsaken hell hole (documented here, here and here. Oh, and here too. Wait, here too.) And I thought about all the horrible people that call it home. And how, similar to someone in an ongoing abusive relationship, they just won’t leave it. They just won’t admit that the city, along with the majority of those in it, has failed. Because chances are, if you live there and/or call it home... you’ve probably failed at life.

The only problem is, we don’t make failing at life a real positive experience. It’s pretty shitty actually. You can’t pay your bills, you don’t have enough to eat, and you live in an oven that is super humid, smells like piss and fills up with sewagey water every three years. You can see why people try so hard to avoid failing at life, and even when they do, try desperately to free themselves from it.

And why do they try to free themselves from failure? Well, because on the flip side of failing, we’ve made succeeding at life look pretty damn good. And guess what, it’s not that hard to do. After all, success is only a dollar and five lucky numbers away, right? Maybe it’s only a hot cup of coffee away. Maybe it’s a misprint on your bank statement that puts a few extra zeros on your account balance.

You don’t ever have to worry about not paying your house payment on time.

Or having enough to eat.

Or drowning. In your attic.


Realistically... once you've failed, it's done. Over. Time to stand up, dust yourself off and head for the exit.





Like this dude:

Have a few (stolen) beers, kick back, let the water rise... and go to your happy place.**

Nick

*Actually, it was hot wife’s birthday

** You're damn right I'm cynical, New Orleans still owes me $20.

Celebrity blogging...

I read today on People.com that in addition to rubbing JGar’s feet and attending ObamaCON in Denver this week, Ben Affleck will be playing some charity poker to benefit disabled veterans. A noble cause most would agree, but really, were I a disabled veteran, I wouldn’t expect a whole lot out of this. See, when we were in Vegas back in June I caught up with Ben for a not-so-friendly game of seven card stud.



Let’s just say that by the time we were done playing, he was rubbing my feet and offering me his first born. Already having a hot baby of my own, I politely declined. I instead offered mercy for all of his money and a part yet to be determined in his upcoming homemade sex tape with Jen. Not a bad deal.

Until I took the money and lost it all getting my ass kicked on the links by TWood and some other old ass fuck.

Nick

Oh mama...

Actually, Oh Susanna - Pretty Face. And a lovely voice as well.



Nick

The sex diet...

Here's an interesting website that I have been playing around with since taking an online health assessment that essentially told me I was a fat pig. In not so many words. Even without signing up, you can browse the nutritional details of just about any food. For example, one of my favorites, the Whopper Jr. from Burger King (responsible for fat pigness) contains way too many fucking calories, way too much fucking fat and, of course, way too much fucking yummy goodness. Actually it contains 410 calories, which is about four times what I should be eating in a given meal.

On the flip side of getting sick seeing how fattening your favorite foods are, you can browse just about every activity you wish you were doing to see how many of those fucking calories you would be burning... if you weren't sitting here reading this blog of course. Which, btw, sitting and reading burns about 100 calories an hour. Or 1/4 of the Whopper Jr.

Now of course the fun part. Well, they don't tell you how many calories you're burning while drinking beer (my guess is it's a lot though), but, they do tell you how many calories you burn while engaging in sexual activity.

According to the wizard who calculates all this crap, passive sexual activity which they specify includes things like light effort kissing and hugging (because who the fuck does that?) burns... are you ready? 83 calories an hour. Which would confirm my theory that no one kisses and hugs for an extended amount of time. Why would you, when sitting and reading burns more calories?

Now we move on to, moderate sexual activity, which I'm not an expert on sexual activity by any means, but I guess would include things like bondage, burning each other with candle wax and swinging (either an actual swing, or another couple... your call). Moderate sexual activity, according to the website, burns 109 calories. Or half a can of coke.

Uh, really? Moderate sexual activity burns the same number of calories as sitting and reading? What the fuck kind of sex are these people having? If you're extending the same amount of energy having sex as you are sitting and reading, maybe you need to rethink your strategy. Like, try moving.

Well, luckily for us that don't play dead when we have sex, they have a category for vigorous sexual activity. Their words, not mine. I guess vigorous sexual activity would include, oh I don't know, farm animals maybe? Sex in a mall bathroom stall? Who knows what the actual definition of vigorous sexual activity may be, but I wouldn't bother with it. It only burns 125 calories an hour. Or half a snickers bar.

Apparently you are better off just going to church and praying that you were having sex, which also burns 125 calories an hour.

So I guess what all this means is that if you've ever heard the excuse "I'm too tired", it's bullshit. You're probably just not all that good with the farm animals. Luckily the lord is though.

Nick

The lord bless Charlie Mopps!

I love beer. So when I seen that a beer blog I had frequented was going to be no longer, I was sad. But, alas, Lyssa Beyer has set up a new beer blog following her internship at a local newspaper. That's right, a beer blog on a local newspaper website. It's Wisconsin, what do you expect?

And, in honor of beer blogging, a favorite of mine:



Happy Friday!

Nick

Big Dog

I knew they'd come pretty far with robots, but this is insane!



Tell me you didn't feel bad for the robot when that dude tried kicking it over...

Courtesy of Boston Dynamics.

Nick

Mini Me

I would have some interesting posts about my birthday and vacation, if anything interesting happened. But it didn't. Except I sprained my foot.

So, in lieu of interesting topics, here are some pics of Mini Me, as promised.



Nick

Wanted: sweet ass dishwasher...

Last night, hot wife and I mingled in fashion as A-listers at a Coors Light cocktail party, where I was able to catch a few minutes of the baseball game, and half my head was used in a commercial that cost more than we make in several months. I think we rocked the part, especially given that we don’t really have any friends that have Coors Light cocktail parties, watch the baseball game or shoot super expensive and elaborate commercials. We were hanging with people way out of our league. People who own businesses, sell expensive properties, and live in houses on the lake with nice flooring. People with dishwashers.

I think that with some exposure to more opportunities, hot wife and I would make excellent A-listers, despite being deficient in most categories normally associated with A-listers. We don’t have a dishwasher. The problem with breaking onto the A-list scene when you don’t have fancy things like a dishwasher is that the world is full of non-A-listers. We’re essentially B-listers in a sea of B-listers. So we’ll have to rely on other things besides good jobs and dishwashers.

If I had to list our unconvential A-list qualities, they would be... in no particular order:

1. We’re hot as hell. Well, at least hot wife is hot as hell, and that’s usually all that matters.
2. We’ve been known to get naked in public, but only when appropriate.
3. Who else can drink a dozen Jagerbombs and still stand up straight?
4. Looking to buy a shitty foreclosed house, or, eh, a shower door? Yeah, we can help with that...
5. We’re animal friendly.

It’s pretty obvious that we’re A-list quality. Anyone have a dishwasher for sale?

Nick

Some bad news...

I always find it difficult to write when there isn’t shit for good news. And these days, there isn’t shit for good news. There’s plenty of shitty ass news though, such as...

The Milwaukee Brewers have been reduced to trying to shove each other across the plate:



Brett Favre won’t go away (or stay away):



And my birthday is this week:



I’ll actually be 29, that picture is old. Yeah, so Paint Shop wasn’t so good back then, cut me some slack.

The thing about being 29 is, it’s kind of like being 20, only in reverse. Instead of having something to look forward to for the next year, when you’re 29, the year can’t be fucking long enough. In fact, no year can be fucking long enough.

I’m not one of those people who jumps ahead in age and says, “I’m almost 30.” But, I’m almost 30. And don’t say 30 is the new 20, because that’s a bunch of bullshit that 20 year olds say to 30 year olds to make them not feel so shitty. No one that’s already 30 says that, because they know it’s not true. 30 is just when you realize that you’re not young anymore, but you’re not really old either. You don’t really know what the fuck you are. Besides overweight and poor. You’re too old to hang out in the bars with your friends all the time, but too young to sit on the back porch drinking Hamms. Do they even make that shit anymore?

The weird thing is, as I get older, I have more and more respect for old people. Because I know what it feels like to say to someone, “What do you mean you don’t know who Twisted fuckin’ Sister is?! What’s wrong with you?!” And then you realize you’re talking to someone who wasn’t even alive in the same decade that Twisted fuckin’ Sister was.

And no... Twisted fuckin’ Sister was not fuckin’ emo.

Nick

Now who is the Romeo?

After I wrote the last post I actually went to the website mentioned, which I didn't even do prior to the writing the post. I was pretty amazed at what I saw.

Since hot wife is the girl of my dreams, I thought I would put myself in the shoes of the Subway Romeo. And here is what I came up with, as if I had just saw hot wife for the first time, and had to resort to sketching us to track her down.

Come get some hot wife... come get some...

Nick

The Subway Romeo?

Now here’s an interesting story . If we are so led to believe, a New York man spots the girl of his dreams on a subway. Wait, is this the first time you’ve heard of this too? Anyways, before being able to approach her (read: catch and mug her), he loses her in the crowd. Of course. Frustrated at his inability to make this once in a lifetime catch, he goes home and fires up a website (www.nygirlofmydreams.com) devoted to finding her, complete with a sketch, and more than likely some foolishness about not being a complete psycho/stalker/rapist/murderer. Within 48 hours the story catches on with New Yorkers (suckers), phone calls and emails come pouring in, and eventually the woman’s friend spots the picture and passes on the word. They meet, they go out for a few months, they break up, end of story.

Pretty normal stuff right? Dontchya think? Uh, no. You don’t think that. Who thinks that? Who actually believes that this shit happens? I see the girl of my dreams, I start a website devoted to finding her, and then I FUCKING FIND HER? And meet her? And go out with her???

First of all, how does this guy convince this woman he’s not crazy? “Hey, I saw you, on the subway, and then I went home and started a website devoted to tracking you down?” Isn’t that just a tad bit creepy? Maybe sorta just a little? I mean, you hear of guys seeing a good looking woman, they go home and rub one off, and that’s it. Maybe they write a craigslist post about it or something. But to start a website?

Beyond all that, who sees the girl of their dreams? Is the girl of your dreams even a real person? And if she is, what the hell is she doing riding the subway? Most people probably have some idea of what they like in another person, and maybe you actually have an ideal person in your head. But to not only find out that person exists but is on the same subway car as you?

It just seems the whole idea of having a girl of your dreams is misguided. Think about it. What are the chances that the girl of your dreams would ever give you the time of day? If the girl of your dreams was anywhere near your league, she wouldn’t really be the girl of your dreams, but rather, just another girl you’d do if you had the chance. Nothing special about that, and certainly no reason to start a website... unless of course, you’re into randomly starting websites about girls you’d do if you had the chance. Who am I to judge?

I wonder who is more unrealistic about the girls/guys of their dreams, men or women. On one hand, I would say women are because the ratio of men who are dream quality to the rest of us doesn’t exactly favor women who have a man of their dreams. My guess is that most women probably have a man similar to Brad Pitt as the man of their dreams, and where do you find men like that? Nowhere. Contrarily, hot women are everywhere. But I think for the same reason, men are more unrealistic about the girls of their dreams. Most men don’t have the skills to score with anyone much less the girl of their dreams. And it seems that the more hideous a guy is, the better he thinks his skills are. That’s why only nasty dudes hit on women in bars. Or start websites devoted to tracking women down...

Nick

Is this going to be a problem?

Whenever I tell people that I don’t really care to fly, they’re always shocked. “Oh, it’s so much safer than driving” they say. Yeah, well, my car doesn’t just fall apart for no reason while I’m going down the highway. Actually, I take that back. The driver side window does have a tendency to come off the track and fall into the door. While driving down the highway. In -30 degree weather. 30 miles from home.

They say that when this “airplane” fell apart in mid-flight, it lost cabin pressure and had to descend 20,000 feet so the passengers could breathe without oxygen masks. The normal descent in an airplane is enough for me to want to barf. Could you imagine having to do it fast enough so that the passengers can breathe??? I barfed just writing that.

Is the descent in an airplane not the worst part of the flight? At that point the airplane is making noises and movements that you get the feeling something flying in the air probably shouldn’t be making. There’s metal pieces moving around trying to slow the plane down, the pilot’s throwing in some hard banks to get into position and then there are weird vibrating noises that you’re not sure you’re even hearing because your head feels like it’s going to explode from the pressure. And then, of course, you have to land this huge plane on three little wheels.

I’m sure at one point man looked to nature to figure out how it could travel faster. So some dude sees a bird, and says, “hey, why don’t we just fly?” Well, maybe it’s time we realize that dude was a douche bag. There’s a reason that birds aren’t made of metal and don’t carry hundreds of people.

It’s so they don’t fall apart.

Nick

Yeah, I'm back. Again.

Ever since the servers at my place of employment decided that blogging was not a work related function, I’ve struggled to find a creative outlet. Or rather, I’ve struggled to find a way to access my creative outlet, which is this blog (or any of the other several blogs I’ve had over the years). I tried the whole blogging while at home bit, it just wasn’t me. Besides having a life and a kid and a wife and what not, I don’t have a consistent desire to sit on a computer all night. Then I found a work server friendly place to blog, the local newspaper website. But after being asked in a comment, “can’t you find something better to do with your time?” I get the feeling my work isn’t necessarily appreciated there.

No bitch, it’s my lunch hour. Actually I can’t find anything better to do with my time.

I can’t actually write that, which is kind of depressing. It’s even more depressing to have to endure such negativity. On a newspaper website blog. How low have I sunk as a blogger?

The other day I joined Facebook. Wow that actually kind of felt good to write. I was kind of nervous, since I don’t really have any friends who own computers (read: I don’t have any friends) and well, it’s Facebook. I guess it’s kind of like Myspace for people who aren’t really 10, and don’t lie about their ages. Or do they? Anyways, while I was filling out my Facebook profile, it provides a space for your website(s). And I thought, hey, I have a website. It’s a blog. This blog. This lonely and long forgotten blog. And I went back and read some of the oldies. And the goodies. And I was taken back to a day where my creativity ran wild and free. Blogging friendships were conceived. Life, it had meaning... you know, outside of family and work and all that other non-important, non-blogging stuff.

Essentially I realized that I miss blogging too much to not find a way to make it work. It’s who I am. It’s who I’ve been for the last four years. I’m a blogger. And this blog simply must go on! It must come back to life. I must find a way to make it work. I must create. I must... be alive.

Dammit bitch, we’re back! Again...

Nick

Do you Super Mario???

I know I've been posting a lot of music type video stuff lately, but this may possibly be one of the coolest things I've ever seen in my entire life. Seriously.

Hot wife and I are Mario FANATICS! For her birthday one year I bought off of Ebay a Super Nintendo so we could play all. the. time. And we did. When hot wife was pregnant, that's all we did was play Super Mario Brothers.

Bottom line, I love this guy. Seriously... love.



Love.

Nick

F is for fire that burns down the whole town...

Sometimes when I actually get a few minutes to play poker online, and then get my Aces cracked by some douche bag going all in with pocket 10s, I need to listen to the FUN song to keep from bashing my computer screen into a billion pieces.

Maybe it will help you too...

Nick

Some of the people can be all right some of the time...

I love Bob Dylan, and in particular, this song.



Nick

Hi, I'm Governor Spitzer. Got hooker?

I've tried to think of what I would say were I in this douche bag's shoes. And then I really tried.

I got nothing.

Forget for a second that prostitution is wrong and all that. Let's look at the facts.

For one, it's not like your wife is ugly. She's no $1,000/hour hooker, but c'mon.*

Then of course, you have a family. "Hi, we're your three daughters. Have we met?"

And, the state that elected you Governor, and you know, gave you a bunch of money. "Hi, we're the State of New York. 'member us?"

No... let's make matters worse and be a jackass. Who runs around cracking the whip on everyone else's ass. "Hi pot, I'm kettle."

It's one thing to cheat, have an affair, get knob jobs from some intern, etc. But a $1,000/hour prostitute? You have to pay someone to cheat on your wife with?

You're the Governor! Of New York!

I'm pretty sure that, a) women will sleep with you just because your Governor of New York, b) I've never been to New York, but I'm pretty damn sure they have cheaper prostitutes.

$1,000/hour?

Eddie Murphy didn't pay no $1,000/hour in Coming to America, and that boy was po', and shoppin' in Queens.

*What the hell does a $1,000/hour look like?

Nick

What's DILF mean?

So I was thinking, as I sometimes do, wouldn't it be great if I still had access to my old blog posts from my DILF blog? Well, turns out I do! And now you do too! It's a lot of old stuff, you know, from when I was a younger man... but some of it's fun reading if you're ever bored.

http://therealdilf.blogspot.com/

The bots will never take this one alive!!!

btw - does anyone care about politics? Want to hear my take? Tough. Wait, ok, here it is. I hate McCain and I wouldn't ever vote for Obama or Clinton. Hey, who's the Constitution Party's candidate this year?

btww - yeah, Favre finally retired. What, you people didn't see it coming? Me neither. Oh well. We'll miss ya buddy.



Now, off to play poker!

Nick

Hey boy...

It's been some time since pictures of the boy have been posted. So why not, huh?



Nick

Some music for ya...

I don't know, something about Ani DiFranco does it for me. Musically I mean. Have a gander...

Nick

Not so card dead...

Well, I took a little dip for a while, but I'm on the way back up now on Full Tilt. Definitely one of the hardest things about playing poker is not cashing a few, and having to grind your way back up. Graphs courtesy of SharkScope.

Still no cashes in live play in some time, only a couple of bubbles (last one out before the money).

Nick

The Lord demands sex...

Anyone who has read this blog for any amount of time (all three of you) know that I'm not religious. But, you know, maybe it's not because of my beliefs so much, but rather, because I haven't found the right church.

Like this church.

Good Lord.

"The pastor of a southwest Florida church opened many eyes and ears Sunday when he said he wants married couples in the congregation to -- have sex for 30 days in a row."

Wait. Is this church or a strip club? Either who, sign me up! Eh, and why stop at 30? Why not just go for a cool 60? I should be a pastor...

Nick

It's almost St. Patricks Day!

A while back I went thru an Irish music phase, and I've always liked music with a humorous touch to it. So finding the Brobdingnagian Bards seemed like a pretty good fit. And no, I can't pronounce the name either, but these two guys are funny as hell.

They kind of remind me of Monty Python, if you're into those movies...




nick

I've gotta piece of shit car...

Hi, I would like you to meet my car. Well, this isn't my car, but mine is similar. It's a 2003 VW Jetta. I always wanted a VW, ever since I was a kid and my dad had VW Bugs. But this car... this car hates me. It has always hated me. Just observe all the ways it has hated me since I bought it brand new with about 4 miles on it...

* The stereo is a piece of shit. The AM radio never works and the speakers cut out at higher volumes.

* Twice within the first six months I had broken windshields.

* One Friday after work my car wouldn't shift out of park. Apparently the little indicator that tells the car your foot is on the brake, so you can shift out of park, was broken.

* I had a screw in my tire.

* A city lawnmower hit my car, cracking the windshield, and denting both doors on one side.

* The struts are shot.

* And yesterday, when it was -9 with -30 windchills, and I was 40 miles from home, my driver side window decided to freeze, and fall of it's track. Into the door. And not come back up.

Do you know how cold it gets when you are driving 60 miles an hour in -9 degrees weather, and your drivers side window is down?

Really, really, really COLD!

Hey, you know anyone who wants to buy a 2003 VW Jetta???

Me neither.

nick

Hey, you're pretty good!

This my recent stats on Full Tilt that I plucked off of SharkScope. Not too shabby! I've been bumping my buy-ins up a little to the $20 nine person tables, and I've won the last two. It's nice because it gives me some heads up experience, which unless you're winning a lot (not me), you don't get that much.

Well, poker league starts back up this Friday, so time to put the online streak to the live game test.

Nick

Artist of the week

I really like Alexi Murdoch. We seen him when he opened for Mason Jennings in Minneapolis at First Ave. Have a look, and listen:



nick

Water Poker rules!

Who needs the casino when you can just bring your own table and play in the pool???



Brought to you by the good folks at Improv Everywhere. I love this site, so check them out.

Nick

Titty Tuesday

*Oh wait, wrong blog.

* I don't play much online poker, but maybe I should. According to SharkScope, a website that tracks online poker, I don't do terribly.



I have positive return on investment, and I'm in the black. Not a bad thing.

* While we're doing pictures, let's just take a look at this:



How the hell do I live here? I hate snow, and I sure as hell don't like it when the high temperature is 4! 4. Four. I guess if it wasn't for the Packers, I would probably leave.

* Go Packers!!!!





BTW - it wasn't 5 degrees out that day.

nick

The good 'ole days

As I was bringing back to life some of the old posts I had in draft from blogs-a-past, I came across some pretty good stuff. Well, you might not think so, but I think this shit's hilarious. Like this little gem from February of last year...



nick

Old Banners

I was thinking about my old blog site that still had my banner up. I've had a lot of banners over the years... let's see if we can dig some up...

The original:



Then of course the blog was this for a long time:



The DILF days, just prior to until just after the boy was born:




Then after going back to i think washing your hands is stupid..., we switched to Modern Day Prohibition:



Ah memories. It's been a long and ever-changing run. Maybe some day I'll create a decent banner for this site. Maybe...

nick

Is that a floppy disc in your pocket, or...

Hey, just can't get over using those old floppys (floppies?), but need some extra space? Uh, I guess this solves both those problems. Or just makes you look crazy...

It would be a good way to scare your fellow employees, surely. The sight of you sticking what appears to be a floppy into your cd drive is sure to prompt some calls to HR...

hat tip: Design Boom

nick

Free live music

I've been digging this site lately. You can download tons of live music, and I love live music. It has a certain authenticity you can't get off the album. Anyways, I downloaded a great Mason Jennings show from August 5th, 2001 at the 400 Club in Minneapolis. It's never the greatest quality, but the songs played are those you don't hear much. So here are a few... (btw, I have no permission to transfer these to .mp3 or post them here. credit to unknown taper.)



Oh, and happy New Year :)

nick