We recorded basic tracks at Greg’s for the new band today.

It was less photographed than our previous sessions and wasn’t a two day marathon, but we got some rock captured to some 1/4 tape without any blood explosions or hurt feelings.  We finished six songs (none of them over 4 minutes as usual) and we’re on for next Saturday to lay down basics for another five.

Eventually there will be another session with another engineer for our quieter piano and ukulele oriented tunes. Maybe some banjo will sneak its way in there too. Goodness we have written a lot of songs.

Overdubs in April, mixing and mastering to follow. Summer release, fame and fortune will nip at our heels. Touring, Europe, groupies, addiction and demise until our life turns around and we put out a second album of safe-shit-pop that scores our own “E! True Hollywood Story.” We get real fat, then real skinny, then grab some babies from Indonesia and call it a day after a power yoga prayer session to our spaceship gods. Our third album rocks everyone’s faces off but then it’s all scandal all the time when the public realizes we paid some dolphins to hum into a microphone for an hour and auto-tuned it to perfection. The public will gliour headlines (on page 14): “We’ll Fix It in Post.” So we retire, ‘cuz the jigz’up only 16 mo. after our debut, and we go back to farming soy milk in Iowa. We release a limited pressing of our duet with Tom Waits and Fred Scneider (we don’t sing) and sell it at farmer’s markets. People ask us what became of us and we just shake our heads realizing America was right again… about something. They were as right as Steve Albini told us they would be, and here all we wanted was to play music and maybe adopt Indonesian babies every now and then.

Anyway, the rough mixes sound good. And there was the traditional pizza break and some “Trapped in the Closet” was witnessed.

During the course of the evening my company’s CEO called our sound engineer. They’re all best buds n’ shit, but it was a temporary worlds collide moment where even though this CEO randomly saw my previous band play a few times in the past, I’m still going in to work at his company on Monday. Maybe I can get him to pay for mastering instead of a Christmas bonus. Wait, it’s not Christmas anymore. Shit.

Key Word Search Time!  CLAP! CLAP! CLAP-CLAP-CLAP!

Time to review what brings people to my little corner of the world.  All eight of you.  Hello there.

thea what have you done  - Other than, “Yeah, really, what the hell have I done?.”  This person clicked on the public zit lancing post after googling this.  (Warning: Don’t.  Don’t watch the video.  Just don’t.) Which leads me to ask myself the same question with different emphasis:  What have I done?  Why did I feel the urge to publicize one man’s attempt at personal cottage cheese production?  Why why why on Earth is this something that you want someone you care about to see?  I’m not so much the social activist.  Mother Theresa never picked her scabs in public to teach a lesson, who the hell do I think I am?  This video needs to be buried.

But apparently acne is plaguing America and people don’t know how to confront and deal with these pustules on their epidermississippis.  So they seek help from The Google and more people find me:

lancing zits – The video The Internet brought to us will either help youth succeed in dermatological cleanliness or be a successful forehead/back/buttock dairy farmer.  If you have to lance more than one zit, or any for that matter–”lance” should not be the verb you use in the same sentence as acne–you should just see if you can get part-time work as bubble wrap.

giant zit videos as of january 28, 2010 - I do not want to see this person’s cache.  It’s probably as filthy as his pores.

snowking mandolins – Best band at Pitchfork this year.

butt hoe artist – They must be a fan of his work, or, it’s the artist googling himself to see if people are talking about his tags around the city.  Yeah, Butt Hoe Artist, you’re that good.

butt hoe - Well shit, the motherfucker’s listed in the Urban Dictionary.

bday messages for departed - I know this is probably a sad sentiment, but all I could think of  was, “Zombies don’t need birthday cards, silly.”

norms of a gym - If you are like the Norms in my gym, you “Look Better Naked” because the lighting design of the gym resembles that of Pilgrim times when 1 footcandle of illumination made any frumpy Puritan look like a slutty Lutheran.

Fran Drescher fart - This search came up for a second time the other day.  It’s sparked my curiosity enough to make me search for it as well.  Is there a Fran Drescher fart video that I’m not aware of that I need to be aware of immediately?  Please, give me something to spout off about at the water cooler other than the weather and the YouTubes.  If you’re just talking about her farty voice tone I will be disappointed.

sheer panic at the thought of turning 30 - Don’t come to me with this one.  If you’re not happy by 30 you’re not going to be happy ever.  Wait, are we ever really happy, Pooh Bear?  You’re asking someone who’s trying to succeed as an actor.  Don’t go to the internet to tell you how awesome your life was in high school.  Do something with your life, schlubbo!

BIRTHDAY WISHES FOR A DEAR WIFE – I feel sorry for the poor soul who was looking for some poetic love-phrasings but came across Charles’s brand of affection instead.

Happy birthday my dear wife, love you so much – Whoops.  In the same aisle as that other guy.

how to rip a fart – Really?  You need to look this up?  And you come to this site to guide you?  Uh… Okay, well, it’s like “Put your lips together and blow,” except it’s more like “Clench your colon and bear down until your sphincter squawks or shits.”  Does that help?  I’d suggest googling this again because I’m sure there’s a better site for this.  Maybe Puddingfarts.com can help.  And if you haven’t heard of that site, be forewarned:  They clench and bear down. And it’s exactly what you’d expect from a site

“real talk” coffee mug - If there was any merchandise associated with R. Kelly’s “Real Talk” song–no, not song, not masterpiece… EXPERIENCE–I would buy them for myself.  If you haven’t listened to the Andy Kaufman of hip hop, which is what I tell myself so I can sleep at night, please do so, or just read the lyrics first, and then immerse yourself the brilliance and madness that curls up in a cozy little place in America’s hearts.

Cue stand up bit for when I’m standing up as a stand up and I do stand up with my own “Real Talk” phone conversation with my significant other:

Hey, I’m not calling for any reason.  I’m on my lunch break.
I think I’ll be home around six or six-thirty, ’cause I work til six, but we got real slammed today at work.

And I’m going to the gym, so let’s make it eight-thirty.  I said I’m going to go to the gym.  I’m going to the gym!  Goddamn, AT&T–Real Talk.

How’s your day?  Nothing exciting? What time are you off?  I said, what time are you off work?

Don’t say, ‘”the same time every week,”

‘Cause sometimes you’re going over to Stu’s house for D&D and you’re home past ten-thirty sometimes

I can’t keep track–Real Talk.

Maybe tonight we can go to a movie, or rent a movie, or Dexter will be here early from Netflix, I’m just thinkin’ out loud–Real Talk.

Are you busy?  Or do you just need to eat? Speaking of which we really need to go grocery shopping, I’m just thinking out loud once again–Real Talk.

Did you get the picture I texted you this morning?  Yeah, I sent you of the picture of the cat.  The cat was being real cute and then she got bite-y–Real Talk.

Okay, well I don’t why I called, I’ll talk to you later when I get out of work or after the gym, I love you bye!

[A fight breaks out randomly in the background, and a "To Be Continued..." subtitle star-wipes onto the screen.]

And my favorite:

stupid women – You found me!

Opening night for 11:11.

Some of my songs were bumped to house music to fit into the show, which doesn’t matter much to me, as I’ve now decided I’m going to dominate the Christian charts with my ironic faith music.  You can listen to some highlights here.

Also, thanks to Anne Petersen for once again capturing some amazing images from the show:

Hope to see you there, believers and non-believers alike.