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Guru is Gone: The 5 Best Gang Starr Songs


in Musical

Photo by Jennifer Taylor Gang Starr is easily one of my top 5 favorite hip hop acts, evah. To die of cancer at age 43 is tragic whether you’re a streetwise rhyme spitter or a sanitation professional. Keith Elam will be sorely missed and I’d like to thank him for his exceptional work by listing my personal top 5 favorite Gang Starr tracks (not sure if there’s a specific order). Whether you’re hearing these for the umpteenth time or the very first – revel in the talent that was Guru (Gifted Unlimited Rhymes Universal) and Premier.

Click the song titles if you’d like to download the MP3.

5. Take It Personal
The first time I heard this was as a boarding student at Vermont Academy in 1992. My friend, Jamal, was from Brooklyn and had someone send him Daily Operation on cassette the day it was released. The tune blared out of his dorm room for the better part of a week and I’d never heard anything like the machine gun kick drums which make up the beat. The scratchy old time piano and manic scratching of the Brand Nubian sample on the chorus rocked my young world and does to this day.

"I can see through you, cause I’m the Guru. So what you gonna do when I start to step to you?"

4. Who’s Gonna Take The Weight?
The standout feature of this song is the borderline-nerve-grating steam whistle noise which DJ Premier manipulates throughout. This sort of sound would become a huge hip hop staple in the coming years. House of Pain, Cypress Hill and others were definitely influenced by this track and that’s a big reason why it makes my list. And I think there’s also an underlying message or something.

"I be plannin’ to be rammin’ what I wrote – straight on a plate down your throat."

3. DWYCK
This is one of the silliest songs and videos from the 1990’s “golden age” of hip hop – but goddamn it’s catchy, funky and has retained a place of honor on my iPod… since it was a walkman. A rare Gang Starr “party jam”, Hard To Earn ’s DWYCK features Nice n’ Smooth and references to everyone from Cassius Clay to John McClane himself. It’s an incredibly enduring classic. Period.

“Lemonade was a popular drink and it still is. I get more props and stunts than Bruce Willis.”

2. Words I Manifest
One of the singles off their first album, 1989’s No More Mr. Nice Guy , Manifest features a devastatingly catchy sample from A Night in Tunisia by Charlie Parker and was probably the first Gang Starr song I ever heard. The video sees Guru playing up his uncanny resemblance to Malcolm X, but thankfully he lightened up after the afro-centric 80s and settled for a baseball cap like everyone else. Such a great, early, seminal hip hop track.

“I suggest you take a breath for the words I manifest they will scold you and mold you, while I impress upon you…”

1. Mass Appeal My very favorite track from the classic canon of Gang Starr. Not an easy distinction to make but this song stands out for me amongst a slew of deserving options. DJ Premier is a master at sourcing stand out samples which no one has ever used, and the repeating riff he creates from a few keystrokes of Horizon Drive by Vic Juris is one of the best you’ll hear throughout the short history of hip hop.

”Word is bond I go on and on, for you it`s tragic, I got magic like wands.”

In closing all I can say is, “thank you, Guru”. My 15-year-old self thanks you, my 36-year-old self thanks you and I’m quite confident that when I’m old and as deaf as a doorknob… the hook from Mass Appeal will still be ringing clearly in my memories of one of the best there ever was.

More Guru Memorials Worth Reading:

  • DJ Treats: “I would go so far to say Gang Starr is the reason why I have a career as a DJ, and more importantly a full-time job in music journalism.”
  • Guru’s Brother: “At his bedside, I stood and stared at his overly frail frame, his head that he had kept clean-shaven for the last 20 years uncommonly covered with hair, his body connected to a sea of tubes and wires.”
  • Guru’s Personal Goodbye: “"I write this with tears in my eyes, not of sorrow but of joy for what a wonderful life I have enjoyed and how many great people I have had the pleasure of meeting."
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Repo Men: Uber-Violent Sci-Fi Smorgasbord


in Movies

repo-men-poster

"For a price, any organ in your body can be replaced. But it can also be repossessed."

I’m starting to like Jude Law more and more these days, and it’s not because I’m taking a cue from yesterday’s announcement by Ricky Martin. Maybe it was his hilarious turn on Saturday Night Live earlier this month. Might have been my recent re-appreciation for Cold Mountain. Could be his breathtaking buttocks – I’m not sure. Where was I… Jude, Forrest Whitaker and Liev Schreiber lead the cast of Repo Men – a decent sci-fi action flick unapologetically cobbled together from memories of far superior works.

I’ll clarify that statement in a way which the most distinguished of laymen will appreciate: If the reanimated corpse of Phillip K. Dick somehow managed to impregnate itself using a turkey baster found in James Cameron’s curbside trashcan, the resulting butt-baby would be Repo Men’s second cousin. It’s like Blade Runner, Children of Men and The Harvest were dropped in a blender with a cow liver repossessed from a failing Denny’s. You know what… I’m going to stop right there before this gets silly.

“The Union” is a company which manufactures artificial organs and other body parts which are then sold to the everyman at extortionate prices. “You owe it to your family. You owe it to yourself” is a popular sales phrase. If you fall more than 90 days behind in your payments, said organ is usually repossessed by Union employees (ex-soldiers, tough guys and general scumbags) who come to your house in the middle of the night and literally cut it out of you. If the part was vital – say a heart – you’re left on the floor to die. This is all, apparently, perfectly legal in this vision of the future. The head Repossessor, Remy (Jude Law), leads the charge and from the number of pink slips (commissions) he and his partner, Jake (Whitaker), collect you’d think them both very wealthy men in no danger of disillusionment.

“Hey Jude. Don’t be afraid. Ever seen The Crying Game?”

Inevitably it all goes kidney-shaped as these plots tend to do and square-jawed Jude ends up on the wrong side of the scalpel. Despite several offers from his employers he seems intent on changing his ways and, in doing so, getting himself into a whole heap of trouble. Is it for love? Conviction? Because he read Who Moved my Cheese? To be honest I have no bloody idea. And, on the subject of bloody, you might as well throw a laserdisc copy of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre into the aforementioned blender too – because this flick makes Tobe Hooper look like Hans Christian Anderson.

Law’s motivation for throwing off the Union’s yolk, hanging up his taser and risking life and limb for his fellow debtors isn’t very clear unless you’re paying close attention. He makes a fast 180 – from repo/killing machine into blubbering sissy who can’t even make the first incision – in seconds. Potential spoiler: did the electric shock whack his morals back into place or is he raging against the Union because not only did they force one of their hearts into him, it was their faulty equipment that made the transplant necessary in the first place? The defibrillator-related plot twist at the end doesn’t help because it’s new information that couldn’t have affected his earlier motives. Actually, maybe simply paying attention isn’t going to help you here.

judelaw_repomen“What’s my motivation?” Deleted scenes shouldn’t always be so.

I also wasn’t on board with the speed in which he went from being the company’s #1 Repo Man to just another “job”. It’s literally minutes. He’s the employee to which all others aspire and then suddenly, in the space of a few edits, he’s suddenly broke, almost 90 days behind in his heart payments and about to be rubbed out by all of his best friends. I expect this movie was edited for time and momentum because it felt like necessary narrative progression was skipped –  I doubt you could even see the cutting room floor.

The romance is also rushed. One fleeting glance in a crowded bar leads to Law undertaking a multiple-day detox on a less-than-pretty woman who looks like she was just shat out of an elephant. Maybe I should wrap this review up, because the more I think about the film’s drawbacks the less I’m liking it. Still, despite its potholed plot and unsubtle influences I enjoyed Repo Men – just understand what you’re in for. It’s going to make a lot more sense if you wait to see it on DVD with what I am assuming are about 157 deleted scenes. And if you accidentally rent or Netflix Repo Man instead… you’re probably better off. I give it 2.5 repossessed spleens out of a possible 5.

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Lightning Strikes Again. And Again


in Whinging

god-zeus Two years ago my house was hit by lightning. Insurance covered the cost of replacing the fridge, microwave and dishwasher which were all fried by Zeus’ misfire – I hope it was a misfire, anyway. Because I’ve been sacrificing goats on the regular.

The fun didn’t end there. Even though we installed a house-wide surge protector (after the fact) things keep breaking down and there is no doubt in my mind, or that of the many repairmen cycling through here, that the original bolt must be to blame.

The latest victims – my 3-year old stove and my furnace’s compressor. Over a year has passed so neither is still covered by insurance. All the money I’ve saved for other long-looked-forward-to household additions has been whisked away, just like that. Quicker than a flash of lightning, if you will. Anyone else have any good wrath of the Gods type experiences to share? I’m doubling up on goats for the next month.

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Boston Yoga Classes with Amy Leydon


in Endorsements

I keep PITF fairly free of endorsements so I hope you’ll bear with me on this irregular occasion. A good friend of mine, Amy Leydon, recently re-launched her website and it looks fantastic. I’m going to give her some props, some kudos, and most importantly – some search engine friendly link love which should be more obvious than a naked lumberjack attempting the Setu Bandha Sarvangasana pose once you reach the next paragraph.

boston-yoga-teacher-amy-leydon Boston’s Best Yoga Teacher: Amy Leydon

She was literally voted Best Yoga Teacher by Boston Magazine, so that’s not my biased, friend-ish opinion, either. I urge anyone in search of the ultimate in Boston Yoga Classes, retreats, workshops, etc. to seek out Amy immediately. She does it all. Namaste!

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Just Come Get the Goddamn Thing


in Worky

I am still smiling… because I got to cross a big, black task off my ever-increasing 2Do list yesterday. I put my broken, 800 million pound 9 year old rear-projection big screen TV on Kijiji last week – fully disclosing it was in need of repair – and a couple with a pickup truck drove an hour and a half to my remote hideaway yesterday and took it away! Hallelujah! In fact, at last count I had almost 30 inquiries. For a broken TV. I love the internet. You put the word “Free” on anything and the people go nuts.

In all seriousness, they seemed very nice and I hope they get it up and working. The TV served me well for a year and a half, after I bought it off my neighbors, and was the first media center of the newly completed man cave. I’m starting to wonder what else I want to shift that I could put up in an online classified ad. All that furniture cluttering the back of the garage? The pile of rocks for which my Dad splashed out over $1,000 and then left to harbor chipmunks in the center of the side lawn? Shepherd? The possibilities may be endless.

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Jay Peaking


in Heartwarming, Sporty

ski-crash No Quizzlet today, kids. Far too busy with a real estate reckoning. I’ve had to remain tight-lipped for the last month, and it’s been tough, but today my sister and I are driving to Vermont to close on the Jay Peak ski condo we’re buying.

There. I can finally say it and it feels great. Here’s to silver linings.

Incidentally, tomorrow will see me on skis for the first time in 17 years. If I don’t make it back to Ontario in time for the hockey game Sunday night – you’ll know full well why. Watching the Olympics has taught me half a dozen new ways to fall, slide and crumple. Wish me luck, and if you ski we can’t wait to have you to the Peak for a weekend.

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Wednesday Wadio: Jeff Bridges’ ‘Brand New Angel’


in Movies, Musical, Wednesday Wadio

Crazy Heart is a bit schmaltzy. A bit sappy. The May-September romance between Jeff Bridges and Maggie Gyllenhaal is tough to buy into. Colin Farrell as the biggest country star in the world (and the hideous accompanying ponytail) is even tougher. Someone slap that casting agent on the back of the hand and make them work at the WB for a year as punishment. But the film’s music, oh the music.

I am a fan of “Classic” country but don’t give the time of day to “New” country. My opinions have been solidified in this respect having lived the last 2.5 years in rural Canada where I cringe every time one of the local 20-something girls stumble towards the jukebox at Duck’s Roadhouse. The songs on the Crazy Heart Soundtrack are new in the real world, but are meant to be the protagonist’s old standards in the realm of the film. And they sound old, and they’re awesome.

Leonard Cohen meets George Jones meets The Dude.

My favorite is “Brand New Angel”, a very sad, mournful song as you would probably expect after contemplating the title for a split-second. Someone has died, hence… right. The chord progression, minor/major back-and-forth coupled with Bridges’ own solid, booze-soaked vocals make for a real unexpected treat. It could just as well been called “The Whiskey Waltz” and kicked off a 30-year-old Kris Kristofferson record. Written by Greg Brown, the song accurately reflects the musical influences producer T-Bone Burnett suggested Jeff Bridges draw from when developing the character:

“In fleshing out Bad’s background, it was decided that his influences should extend beyond the country genre and that he should have an eclectic taste in music. T-Bone made a wonderful graph for me of the music that Bad might have listened to. Leonard Cohen was one of the guys we thought of.” – Jeff Bridges

jeff-bridges-crazy-heart Have a listen, see what you think and then seek out the movie. It gets a solid ‘B’ from little old me. The quality of the toe-tappers, coupled with Bridges’ convincing turn as the wedding and world weary Bad Blake, ensure you’ll be glad you did, partner. The soundtrack also features performances by Colin Farrell and Robert Duvall – and you can purchase an MP3 of "Brand New Angel” or the whole shebang right here: Crazy Heart: Original Motion Picture Soundtrack (Deluxe Edition) .

I wouldn’t be upset if Jeff beat out Jeremy Renner for best actor, and it’s definitely going to come down to the two of them. Morgan Freeman did little more than a great Nelson Mandela impression, Colin Firth is Colin Firth. Clooney’s performance in Up in the Air is as inexplicably overrated as the film itself. If Ryan Bingham and T Bone Burnett, who produced the soundtrack and composed “Weary Heart”, (the official theme from Crazy Heart and another solid tune), lose out to Randy Newman – I’m liable to swig back a fifth of Wild Turkey and find a truck stop waitress to impregnate/beat mercilessly. No one wants to see that happen, Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, so do the right thing.

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Losing Your Boner


in Television

Andrew Koenig I’m going to employ one more play on words and then I’m done. Gee, Valentine’s Day sure is an tragic time to misplace your boner. That’s what Chekov’s been thinking, anyway. I’ll explain. Walter Koenig, of Star Trek, has a son. He is none other than Andrew Koenig, a.k.a. “Boner” from Growing Pains – he is missing and has been since Valentine’s Day. Due to him refusing work, being depressed and selling belongings prior to his disappearance his friends and family are fearing the worst. Has Boner shuffled off this mortal coil?

“Don’t you ever think that getting by is getting old?” – Not sure what that means, but I’m sure it’s pretty deep, whoah.

andrew-koenig It’s not just crewmembers of the Starship Enterprise concerned for Andrew’s safety. He’s apparently quite well-liked in comedy circles and everyone from Sarah Silverman to Doug Stanhope have been Twittering away in the hopes of finding him.

The last tangible clue police have is that his cell phone received a text message in the middle of Stanley Park in Vancouver two days after he was last seen, and he never made it back to his home in California. Something unfortunate is afoot, and I hope Richard Stabone’s mortal vessel is found safe and sound. A great character from the canon of 80’s sitcoms, and apparently a decent guy to boot.

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I Gots Romney’s Back On This One, Douchetard


in Appalling, Musical, Politics

sky-blu-rapper-romneyThe unidentified man who assaulted Mitt Romney on his recent flight back from the Winter Olympics has been identified. As a rapper. Shocking. And for the curious, here’s a photo of the little darling. Click it for a larger image. Seriously. Look at this clown. I’ve never listened to LMFAO, but this guy looks like someone I’d need little excuse to wanna throttle. I’ve read a few articles describing the incident now, which in the internet realm makes anyone an objective expert in no way influenced by anyone else’s spin, and I gotta tell ya, I have to side with Mitt on this one.

Not shocking: the “musician”, who calls himself Sky Blu, denies any wrongdoing. I’ve been in the same situation numerous times – namely stuffed into an airplane seat which is way to small while some inconsiderate arsehole flings their seat backwards, crushing my kneecaps -  and in this case it wasn’t even Mitt on the receiving end… it was his wife. I don’t know many people who would even try to somehow turn the tables on an incident like this if a woman in her 50’s were involved. I’d apologize profusely and then sink back down into my seat for the rest of the flight like I were born without a neck.

sky-blu-naked-cardHave un autre look at this silly bastard. So the seat flies backwards, Mrs. Romney takes the brunt of it and Mitt finds himself having to ask some twat, who has named himself after a brand of cheap vodka, to please behave like a civilized human being. Mitt is ignored, so he taps Mr. Absolut on the shoulder and has his hand soundly slapped away and another swing of the fist follows but doesn’t connect. The future-Beethoven is then escorted off the plane by authorities after the captain returns it to the gate. Not true, claims the frizzy fool – Romney started it. Not only that, but he claims the former Governor of Massachusetts used a Vulcan grip. And I suppose Deval Patrick’s office is infested with Tribbles.

Sky Blue was very lucky that Romney is a) a public figure and b) gearing up for a serious run at the 2010 Republican Presidential nomination. There’s also a slim chance he’s a gentleman traveling from an important international event with his beloved, no less. Most plumbers would say to themselves “Keep cool, Sully. Not the right time. Get him later near the baggage claim.” So who is more likely to be telling the truth here? I mean, besides all of the witnesses backing up Mitt’s version of events?

sky-blu-lmfao Oh my God, look at him! It’s beyond easy to predict the eventual evolution of Sky’s defence in this matter. It will either have something to do with his race or he’ll complain that the only reason the airline made a big deal about the incident was because it involved Mitt Romney – and that’s absolute bullshit. I read about people being ejected from commercial flights regularly and it makes me smile every single time. You wanna fly? Learn how to behave on a means of transportation that has to be fiercely regulated lest hundreds, nay, thousands of people a year be inconvenienced or even killed. Wanna act like an irrepressible, obnoxious frigtard? Prepare to be slung off the plane like a cheap piece of luggage, with polite society’s blessing. Better yet, go to a LMFAO show.

If that were my wife being whacked on her perfect knees with a seat, the only part of Blu being escorted off the plane would have been his hair stuck to my bloody palms. The rest of him would have exited unceremoniously somewhere over Vancouver Island, covered in that blue toilet water. Geronimo, joker. Where’s Frank Horrigan when you need him?

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Thursday Throwback: On Tooting on the T


in Boston, Thursday Throwback

subway-fart Although I no longer have to ride the “T” (Boston’s subway system) back and forth to work everyday, many mental – and nasal – scars remain. Five years and one month since today’s Throwback was written, on January 20th, 2005, I’m older, wiser and with car. My six plus years of blog posts are strewn with T experiences, but I came across this one today, it made me laugh and I want to share. For those of you still sentenced to the insane daily events on our fair city’s rapid transit system – I apologize if this sounds at all snooty. I did my time, however, and feel like I’ve earned the right to cast scorn down upon those who do unto others with their inconsiderate morning egg farts. You bastards.

Once upon a T, on a particular January morning, there was a “perfect storm” of sorts during my commute. My disgust with fellow riders who felt it perfectly acceptable to bust off in a crowded subway car reached an all time high and I simultaneously witnessed what I thought for a moment might be an escaped Ted Kaczynski. I’ll leave it there and you can have a gander if you so desire. Or maybe just a silly goose.

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Wednesday Wadio: Magnetic Fields “Fear of Trains”


in Wednesday Wadio

I professed my love of the Magnetic Fields in a post about a different song a couple of years ago, and I don’t care to repeat that level of gushingment. I am prepared, however, to make up words. Click the link above for my analysis of Mr. Merritt and his team as today I’m just going to get right into their song Fear of Trains which is probably my favorite. I also chose the MagFields today as they recently played Boston and I was shocked to see this particular ditty on the setlists of both their shows at the Wilbur Theater.

Fear of trains, railroads or anything related to train travel is clinically referred to as Diderodromophobia and must be a real bummer for anyone living in West Yorkshire. My quick explication is that the song describes a Native American woman who has developed a literal fear of trains because they’ve been harbingers of unfortunate events throughout her entire life.

Cover version. By Lisa Loeb’s Stalker. A for Effort.

It was the army train that took her daddy from her
It was the bible train that took her momma too
And that high loud whistle made her horse run away
But the straw the broke the camel’s back was you
It was the government train that took away her childhood
It was the KKK that took away her past
It was the white man’s will that hers be broken
But that barefoot girl could run too fast

I don’t have time today to dig into Wild West history references, but the theme is pretty clear. “The straw that broke the camel’s back was you”, is obviously a veiled reference to Thomas the Tank Engine. And is there some hidden chapter of the KKK’s evil past that we don’t know about? Maybe they were originally train spotting hobbyists whose club rules got a little out of hand? Intrigued, I looked for more information on several “song meaning” sites and found the same basic conjecture as my own. No one caught on to my TTTE theory though, so you heard that here first.

Live with Claudia on lead. Please seek out the original recording!

It’s my habit on Wadio to embed several easy-to-watch/listen to videos so you can see what all the my fuss is about. An original version of Fear of Trains is sadly absent from any of the big vid sites, so we’ll have to take what we can get. I’ve featured a reasonable cover of the song by some enthusiastic emo chick with a mini-harp. There’s also a live video above but the female “field”, Claudia Gonson, is the one belting it out and effectively ruining the… effect for me – you have to hear it with the original recording’s guitar picking and Merritt’s deep, dead pan vocals bemoaning the tragedy. What to do, what to do?

Well, if you’re a user you can listen to Fear of Trains on Last FM. You can also shell out the wisest $0.99 of your young life and Download Fear Of Trains from Amazon. I promise you – it’s extremely unlikely you’ll be sorry unless you’re also deaf. If you know the song, or seek it out as a result of this post, please share your thoughts and comments. Until next week, Wadioheads.

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Shepherd has a Licking Problem


in Animalistic

boston-terrier The award for all-time best licking problem obviously has to go to Charles. But Charles only ever seemed to lick ghosts, air, drafts or whatever. You never see him licking the sweet Christ out of his owners in the famous video. You never see him licking the floor, furniture, light fixtures or anything else that might cause some sort of domestic offense – just his own damn self. No harm, no foul, no rash on the back of your hand.

On the other hand, my Boston Terriers Shepherd, Rhubarb and Pixie will lick anything that isn’t nailed down. Let me rephrase that – they’ll lick absolutely anything. And they won’t stop. Ever. Until Sarah Connor is dead. Obviously they aren’t Terminators, but if someone were to suggest that possibility to me I’d seriously consider it – because it makes no less sense than watching Shepherd do nothing but tongue a couch cushion for the lion’s share of an afternoon.

Pixie and Shep have a licking problem.

I knew there was a problem, or at least a trend, when I started sitting down on furniture – my bed even – and finding myself smack dab in wet spots. And not the fun kind. They are not large animals so the time, concentration and saliva required to soak half of a comforter is considerable. Spellbinding, even. But don’t take my word for it. See the little weirdos in action for yourself above. And for the love of God, will one of my old Vermont Academy friends please send me a box of salt licks, stat!

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Friday’s Quizzlet: Lord Stanley’s Situation


in Friday's Quizzlet

Appetizer: If you had the choice of sitting on the bench while your team wins the Stanley Cup, or playing a regular shift on a team that stinks, which would you choose? – Chris C.

mike-the-situation-abs Is there such thing as a Stanley Cup Ring that I can wear to bars in the interest of going home with whomever I choose as a result? Because that would seriously influence my answer. “Your breath smells like a dead skunk.” I couldn’t agree with you more, Snookie. Have you seen my Lord Stanley Ring? “Do you promise to sleep in the wet spot?” No. “OK, let’s go.” You know, that sort of situation. See what I did there?

Soup: What is the biggest challenge in being an international man of mystery (the Boston/Portland thing)? – Kate L.

boss-cat-in-sink I actually have a real, practical answer for this. It’s my cats. Everyone remembers Boss but I also inherited my parent’s cat, Spud, a year ago and I now have two of them. If anything ever happened to Spud, or I gave him away, Bonnie would find a way to kick my ass from the hereafter – so I’ll be a cat owner until they both expire and that’s going to be at least 5 years by my math. When I was a “cat person”, I used to say that one of the huge advantages to having them as pets was their independence. You can leave them alone for long periods of time. But I was wrong – see a dog you can take with you, just about anywhere. So they tag along when I head to the States. But the cats have to be looked after by someone. Currently my friend and neighbor, Sam, has moved them in with him. That, however, is a lot to ask and won’t last forever. So yeah – the biggest challenge to my border-hopping lifestyle are my two furry friends. Love ‘em, but it’s a concern. Especially since we’re considering renting the lake house for half of the summer. And not to Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock.

Salad: What is the best way to inadvertently annoy Alexa B. using Facebook? – Janet P.

There are a few tangible and effective options here:

  1. Refer to everyone as “Mase” – except her.
  2. Complain on her wall that her annual Christmas swap isn’t exclusive enough. Then, show up shitfaced wearing smeared clown makeup.
  3. Pee the bed. With her in it. You can’t really do this via Facebook, but I can guarantee you that it works.
  4. In the comments under a picture of Fox, write “When are they going to add the option to DISLIKE something?”
  5. Create a group called “Cato is Hung Like a Budgie” and get a minimum of 1,000 members.

Main Course: Do gay men hit on you incessantly when you walk your dog(s) with their stylish couture? – Greg W.

Greg, I assume your question stems from my recent upload of this:

My Daddy’s big with the gays.

I don’t think there’s much chance of me being admired in Charlestown. I’m not sure any gay guys even know where Charlestown is. Were I walking the dogs through the South End, however, there’s a good chance I’d wake up slung over a see-saw in Peter’s Park.

Dessert: Do you find yourself having more intelligent conversations with your dogs than you do people these days? – Sarah G.

Absolutely not. If anyone were to ever place a hidden camera or digital recorder in my house they’d be able to capture some of the most non-sensical gibberish ever uttered by a human man. But what’s a statement like that without an example? I may regret this. Here is a song I reworked out loud until I got it just right over the course of my unnecessary snow day on Wednesday:

pixie-closeup My dog is Pixie,
Pixie is my dog.
It’s uncanny she resembles,
A retarded bullfrog.
I love my little Pix,
She likes to pick up sticks.
And soon she’ll help me pick up some hot chicks.

If any of that classifies as “intelligent” in your book, then the answer to your question is a resounding “yes”. Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve really got to get started dying alone.

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