7388 Bonus Footage - Club Mix YearBook

This is for all the slamming doors, the mornings interrupted by dish washing, the lack of bathroom/counter space, the insanity that we all lived in for so fucking long, and cheers to Robert Brown and Chris Wininger - without whom none of this would have been possible. 7388. Greenwood, Indiana. Fall 2007.

7388: Episode 9 - The Tooth Situation 2007 Year of Our Lord

In the season/series finale, Striby chips the fuck out of her tooth while in Broad Ripple. Megan ruminates on Striby's reaction/overreaction to the tooth situation. Chris Brake films the whole thing. And now YOU are watching it here. See how the circle goes unbroken? Or some such shit like that.

Thanks to everyone who watched/will watch.

7388: Episode 8 - I Think There's Something Wrong with Me Part 2

The conclusion of our night. Does it get much better?? Tune in next time for some real tooth drama. Thanks for watching - wait - is anyone watching? Is this all just mental masturbation on my part? Who knows? Who cares? Here it is...

7388:Episode 7 - I Think There's Something Wrong with Me Part 1

In this episode, we slipped it to Chris Brake. And it was glorious for one night. Until we had to go to work the next morning. We're getting close to the end of our journey with the inhabitants of apartment 7388. Thank you to everyone who was involved with this. And in my life in general - you people make everything worth it.

7388: Episode 6 - The Bone Fags Clear Rooms like a Fat Kid Loves Pumpkin Pie

Here it is. The Bone Fags unveil their glory in the garage of a South side house. Thanks to Bri and Mike for making that possible. And Thanks to Clifford the Big Red Dog. I'm sure the boys wouldn't be ashamed to say that Clifford is a big part of why they are where they are in the world today. Enjoy it:

7388: Episode 5 - God Damnit, Dare I Ask

In this episode, see yours truly go on and on about things that don't matter. Plus, we start getting at the core of the weirdness. Ladies and gents, it is as you've feared - The Bone Fags make their debut in 7388. Find out what the boys of bone have to add to this already anarchic environment.

Marilyn Manson: Running to the Edge of the World

Manson's new video has the blogs rocking! Saying he's a woman beater, domestic abuse sympathizer, etc. Come the fuck on...

One of my dear friends said that this video is far too pretentious to cut through and actually make a point. But god damn! The song chosen for the video isn't necessarily one of my favorite cuts from 'The High End of Low', however the emotion conveyed with this is incredible! The most pure Manson I've seen in a long, long time. I'm excited about where he's going again - and maybe for the pure shock value of it - for the first time since Mechanical Animals. A lot of you may be saying - why the fuck is anyone interested in Manson anymore? Is he even relevant?

The resounding answer in my head is YES. He's made many enemies, his lifestyle (ever-misunderstood as it is) has always been something for the mainstream to mock, etc. I get all of that.

But this! This is something for Manson fans to cherish. Pure! Emotion! Acoustic sound, the constant emphasis on his face behind plastic! Suffocating himself - the emotion of the song suffocating him - then it all boils over with the scenes toward the end. Of course this isn't real, and anyone who wastes their time claiming that it is should probably just jump off a bridge right now. Fuck you Mainstream! I'm not sitting her claiming that he or anyone else should beat the shit out of women - but we've all certainly thought about it, yes? The fights at the end of a relationship are always the most brutal - everything crashing down all at once. Torn between the incredible empathy you have for this person you once LOVED mixed with overwhelming rage against the same person. This dichotomy exists in all of us. Blood, sweat and tears. Taking it over the line. Embracing an emotion most people shuffle under the rug. LAYING IT ALL OUT THERE.

In my opinion, this is what Manson's getting at. The juxtaposition is beautiful and insane and perfect. 'The High End of Low' is one of his best album's to date. He's finally gotten back to where it all started for him. And what's better, at this point in his career - the hardcore shit is there (Arma-goddamn-motherfucking-gedden, etc), but the traditional Manson head throb anthems are interlaced with these fucking BALLADS. When was the last time you thought of Manson and the word ballad entered your brain?!

This is what I've been waiting for from him - something that pulls me back into his world.

7388: Episode 4 - You're A Good Man, Robert Brown

Miles High - The Say Yes Band

Fred and Clarice came into my life last year. And what a glorious year its been.

7388: Episode 3 - My Tequila is Frozen

Episode 2: Look at the Hands

7388

A long time ago, in a land far, far away, the inhabitants of Apartment 7388
recorded the events that engulfed each one in a journey too weird to truly define.
7 people, 2 cats, 2 ferrets and 1 dog. Two bedrooms, one and a half bath.
3 months. Anything can happen at any moment, and everything is taken to the extreme.
No privacy.
No rules.
Chaos Personified.



Tune in Next Sunday at 11PM for the latest adventure in Apartment 7738! It's definitely worth it.

Video Evidence

Andrew WK and the Caulder Quartet (late but not underappreciated)

Andrew WK performs with the Calder Quartet at the Largo at the Coronet in West Hollywood.

Andrew WK = Energy. Plain and simple. That mother fucker inherently plays a riotous show. So what happens when you put a bunch of WK fans inside a tiny theater amongst a classical (albeit avante garde) audience? - the answer is pure joy. Each movement of music was exuberant and beautiful. Following WK's release of 55 Cadillac - his first instrumental, solo album - Andrew embarked on a short-lived, high energy tour with the Calder Quartet - a truly graceful string quartet - exposing his raw-power fan base to a new version of WK's greatest hits. (I GET WET, PARTY HARD, I LOVE NEW YORK CITY, and DANCE PARTY) In addition to this were beauitful, synchronized performances of Christine Southworth's 'Honey Flyers' and Philip Glass's 'Company'. Andrew WK also did some charming solo improvizations that embodied his sound and spirit wrapped up in this weird, weird medium.

One question that I've been asking myself (and that Chris Brake has been asking me): Why the fuck doesn't WK play anything from his later releases?? 5 albums have been released since 2001's 'I Get Wet', but none of the later material was showcased in this incredible forumn. I want to know WHY!?!? What contract has been breached that prevents WK from playing ANYTHING from his library? Come on WK stalkers - I know you're out there - who wants to weigh in?

I've heard a lot about conspiracies surrounding WK - most of which I'm sure are pure gossip - but, one has to wonder - as I sat in that theater and watched him do what he does - who is Andrew WK? And where will he take us next?

In short, the performance was one of the highlights of my year. Raw, uninhibitioned FUN!

Welcome to my Playhouse.

I have been consumed by a tiny apartment in California. I eat, drink and sleep here. I need a chronicle. If I don't start one now, there will never be anything to see or touch - nothing tangible. My time will continue to slip and slide and - good god - it will be a year - ten years - later. Asking: HOW THE FUCK DID I GET HERE!? Time and space move forward and backwards and sideways. Each single individual is an axis point. We are all doomed to be trapped in this cycle: eat, drink, sleep, repeat.

And how do you break out of THAT? I sit in a cubicle 40 hours a week, starring at green and blue translucent walls. Data entry, data entry, data entry. How is that spreadsheet different from this discovery here?

How can that be just as therapeutic as this sentence right NOW?

No answers. Only questions. On and on and on.

The ocean is two blocks away, inching ever closer to washing us all away. Will California break from the continent? Will I see it happen from my patio? Watch the waves engulf everything I've come to know? And then SPLIT. BREAK. CHANGE.

Big, unsettling words for a Sunday in October. Where are the maple and oak trees? Why can I only find palms??

Where did the Midwest go!?

HOW DID I GET HERE?

And, if I'm constantly asking myself how I've reached this point, can I ever move forward from it?


Can we?


Shaky hands throwing rocks at brick walls. Crusted hands, caked in dirt, semen, blood and sweat. Constant migration. Where will we spend fall, winter, spring, summer? How do these seasons - or lack thereof - affect me - affect them? How am I so different from the beggar at the beach corner? Where does materialism stop and humanism begin? Why do I want THINGS?

See what I mean, constant badgering questions running around my brain. Clawing at the walls. GET ON OUT HERE MAN!

Come seek your answers. Escape is imminent. And, everything could come crashing down all at once.

On a more realistic note, living in Los Angeles proper could either result in my execution or complete self-realization. Here's your ticket, enjoy the ride.