are you there vodka? it's me, megan

Howdy there ponies, I'm finally back in the saddle or whatever you fancy citified bloggers sit on when you mash your palms into the keys. I usually just sit on the floor. Riding bareback.

It's good to be back and I've got a real nice treat for y'all, a Horse Feathers video!

"Curs In The Weeds"


REAL NICE!!!

Why yes, that was Joe Haege from 31 Knots.
Unfortunately, it's a long, hard slog to the end of fall quarter and I must get back to the 18th century.

cordially yours,
megan elizabeth

p.s. bonus related video

Dirty Mondays: Stayin' clean

No Clean-Up on Aisle Tuesday, I'm up to my ass in alligators. When I say that I mean I have too much damn homework.

Tried to get Dirty last night, failed, for the first time ever. I hate waiting in line and I especially hate waiting for in line to get my overpriced drink jostled by some asshole that is going to ask if they can try on my glasses. After an hour, I'd rather not go in at all. Don't get me wrong, I'm not above waiting in line, but like Kim from the Real Housewives of Atlanta says, "I'm too old to do shit I don't wanna do."

Good news is, Thee More Shallows put some new songs up. The real kicker? They're good.

What else is going on this weekend?

Deerhunter is playing at Le Chateau Casbah on Friday, Lanterns are playing at The Che Cafe Saturday, some other stuff I am too lazy to look up.

'stina

The Murder City Devils: The band that made me want to drink a lot of whiskey at 15

I've had a pretty busy weekend acting like I'm in high school again, from gas being $2.11 a gallon to running from the cops.

Official Pony Girl Club tip: If you're gonna drink in public, like oh say the beach, or a certain lagoon, wear flats. It's not fun hiking a round trip of five miles on some janky-ass nature trail in the tail end of the witching hours sporting three-inch wedges just because you don't really feel like getting arrested. Plus, clomping around like a goddamn Budweiser Clydesdale doesn't increase stealth points.

All this talk of delinquency got me thinking about one of the bands that I really loved while in engaging in most of my teenage delinquency, The Murder City Devils. While I blame Kathleen Hanna for my shitty 'tude, MCD are probably the reason I am teetering on the edge of having a drinking problem and am utterly irresponsible on a daily basis. Rock 'n' roll, man.


I don't remember how I heard about them, but I know I still have all 4 shirts and I really wanted to see them before they broke up when they were touring with At the Drive-In but my friend that was supposed to drive's appendix burst or some lame-ass pussy excuse like that. Fucking bummer. I don't collect records but the ones that I own are prized possessions that are all gifts and one of them is a red and black swirl limited pressing of R.I.P., the recording of their last show in Seattle on October 31st, 2001.

This here video is the only official one, for one of my all-time favorite songs, "Idle Hands:"


This isn't actually a video so much as it is a picture of the album cover, "Rum to Whiskey:"


Fan vids are terrible but at least you can listen to the song and keep reading, "Press Gang:"


Recovering from being really punk (doing shit like wearing cut up Casualties t-shirts to ballet and listening to the worst shit imagineable) and easing back into being a functional member of society was a little rough, but these guys were there to pad my fall. They aren't the inventors of anything, but had elements from a lot of bands that I already liked blended into fun, catchy and a little bit creepy rock.

So now what? VH1's million dollar question, where are they now?

The good news is, guitarist and token guy that is so hot it's stupid Dann Gallucci (formerly of Modest Mouse fame) still has a really bad case of the hot. Be still, my 15-year-old heart. Singer Spencer Moody still probably has at least a little bit of a drinking problem and is still making music. Other than that, according to the internets, Moody busies himself running a "junk shop" named after a pirate and a practice space. Bad news is, he has a beard now. Leslie Hardy, keyboardist and former Hole member (for about five minutes) has been pretty much M.I.A. since her carpal tunnel surgery but I heard she might be a realtor now. Who knows? Bassist Derek Fudesco moved on to Pretty Girls Make Graves and the less hot guitarist Nate Manny is a graphic designer now. Adorable drummer Coady Willis is in Big Business and...apparently The Melvins? Weird. Gabe the roadie and the merchbot seemed to have nothing listed for curent projects, which just makes me think at least Gabe is hiding out in the woods hunting bear with his pet wolf.

Can't wait to hide out in the woods and hunt bear with my pet wolf,

'stina

Feel free to mod my mood, Alessandro Cortini

I was shuffling through my room earlier in hot pursuit of my glasses (can't see the coffee maker without that shit) when I shuffled across an old issue (August) of Electronic Musician Magazine with Alessandro Cortini on the cover.


Cortini is not just Trent Reznor's go to synth/sound manipulation guy and Ladytron remixer extraordinaire, he's half of Modwheelmood, a Los Angeles-based electronic duo. I got really into these dudes in my first round of MIDI classes because I figured there had to be something that is MIDI-heavy and isn't Massive Attack or underground hip hop. Modwheelmood blends actual, for-realsies instruments with all the programmed insanity well enough to create a distinctive crunchy indie pop rock sound. They are somewhat Postal Service-y in nature but more technically advanced and less...wussy.


The featured Italian love tank has a unique voice and when I say unique I don't mean it in the way that people say Joanna Newsom's is. I mean it's high-pitched and a little ethereally whispery at times but not obnoxious. One of the biggest highlights in their work, for me is Cortini's somewhat innovative approach to sound manipulation.

This is a video of Cortini using a Lemur control surface with a Monome on a piano. OMG can you say "spank bank?":






Also, a video of Cortini with his Buchla 200e modular synth:



All of Modwheelmood's material is released digitally, available through iTunes or Amazon and a couple songs are up on their myspace. "Sunday Morning" and "MHz" are both good ones but some of my favorites are actually remixes off the "Things Will Change" charity remix album, like Home Video remix of "Going Nowhere" and the Kangding Ray remix of "Things Will Change." One of my other favorites, "Problem Me" is featured in this here youtube video of a dot that doesn't move:



Happy trails my friends, happy trails,

'stina

Clean Up on Aisle Tuesday: I want to choke Chris Carrabba and not in that kind of fun way

It's been really hard for me to think about what I hate enough to blog about this week because us ponies had such a good night, but don't start thinkin' I let you down.

We've both been having our respective issues, like Megan getting a boob job and me not having a day off for 12 days straight trying to hustle my way into a promotion like some sort of frazzled hungover face-painting superbot. The only thing that has kept me going is Megan telling me to ask myself what Dwight Schrute would do.





That should give you guys an idea of how my interview with the district manager went.

All this talk of being a straight Schruter really got me thinking, I should be more intense about my life. I already listen to the blackest of metals, the indiest of rocks and the dumbest of hyphy but what about all the little shit I look the other way about? Like this guy:


Ordinarily, I would say something snappy like "I would hatefuck that guy so hard he wouldn't even know the Slurricaine tore through that shit" and maybe make a joke about waiting until he passes out to steal his black AMEX and Audi keys but no longer, my friends!

I was seeing this dude for a while before he fucking freaked out because I tried to round first base after the fifth date and he once admitted he has a list of "freeway bands." Those being bands you only listen to on the freeway when you can be absolutely certain no one else can hear you. Who was the first on his freeway list? That guy up there, Chris Carraba, otherwise known as his pathetic musical monniker "Dashboard Confessional." Whats my problem with him? One reason: He's a total pussy. He's a pussy with a speech impediment. The shit this guy writes about is bad, the way he writes about it is worse. Even the crying in the newborn ward is more tolerable than this dude's whining about some girl he is netstalking boning down with another dude. For example:

As for now, I'm gonna hear the saddest songs
and sit alone and wonder how you're making out
but as for me I wish that I was anywhere
with anyone, making out



This guy is clearly a sensitive-ass genius. Maybe he's just a nice guy and like needs a hug or some shit but mostly I want to let him loose in the Pennsylvania woods and let a bear swat at his vocal cords.

Fact: He used to be the singer of a Christian band, Further Seems Forever.

Fact: I am Christian music's biggest enemy.

Fact: Carrabba was in New Fond Glory for five minutes while the original ham hands toured with Shai Hulud.

Fact: I saw Shai Hulud once. It's embarrassing that I saw a hardcore punk prog metal band named after the fucking sand worms in Dune, yeah, but I was very young and I've also talked about stomping around my house listening to old Saetia 7". I'm 10 kinds of fucked here.

In hate we trust,

'stina

You Were Right When You Said "We Can't Always Get What We Want"

So it's been a rather interesting time in the world of Bubastis. Election night was quite a roller coaster: I went from being extremely proud on a national level to flat out disgusted on a state level in a matter of hours. I won't bore anyone with any long rant about the evils of Prop 8...suffice it to say that we fucked up but it's ok because it's going to happen sooner or later. Get used to it, Mormons!

But let's get one thing straight: Doctor Bubastis loves the 'tang. I just hate to see something like this proposed and passed on such a religious level in a “progressive” state like California. I also hate arguments like “it has nothing to do with bigotry!” Bitch please. You're flipping out about gay marriage POSSIBLY being taught in school. Nothing says tolerance like “I just don't want my kids to be taught that this lifestyle is acceptable.” I also dislike the insinuation amidst all of this that a child being raised by a gay couple is somehow dysfunctional or not-as-good. Listen, these people have to work to get their kids. Just because you got knocked up in the back of your boyfriends I-Roc drunk as shit off of boxed wine with a mix tape consisting solely of “Pour Some Sugar On Me” playing on the tape deck doesn't make you a good parent.

Nate Silver, who I was previously familiar with through his terrific work with the holy grail of Baseball nerddom, Baseball Prospecticus, runs a highly accredited polling website called fivethirtyeight.com. He recently did a piece about Prop 8, saying that statistically speaking if no one over the age of 60 voted on the measure, it wouldn't have passed. Interesting. Listen, i'm glad we still have the old folks who think it's ok to call black people “colored” puttering around, and i'm not exactly insisting that they just die already, but apparently we have to add “voting” to the long list of things that they shouldn't be allowed to do, along with driving and going to the movies (have you ever been to a theater full of old people? They talk louder and more frequently than the most annoying of teenage girls.)

Anyway, enough of this shit. Check this. The other day I was invited by a friend of mine to go see The Faint. THE FAINT! Seriously? Who would do that to themselves? Do I look like a 14 year old girl? I actually saw the Faint once, like 4 or 5 years ago. But I was only there because for some unholy reason Les Savy Fav opened for them. Ugh. I still haven't washed all the gay off. Not only did I have to deal with the entire white belt army, but they were all....dancing. Like jackasses, obviously. Speaking of Les Savy Fav, this video for their song “What Would Wolves Do?” is really cool. There's just something I like about a wolf and bear astronaut duo partying pretty hard with a bunch of robot fish harpies.

Oh and I almost got in a fight the other night at Churchill's. Like, an honest-to-god fistfight. Fisticuffs and all. All because I told some dude that I didn't like Rage Against The Machine and thought all of their political stuff was weak ass marketing/pandering. Funny, so many people loved the band so much and bought all the fucking Che shirts, but did they give a shit about Zach de la Rocha after he left the band? Didn't think so. If I wanted to listen to Rage Against the Machine I would just listen to Relationship of Command and swap the asinine, cliché political jargon for cryptic, none-of-this-shit-makes-any-sense political jargon. Apparently Rage fans are just as delusional as Tool fans. Makes sense, considering they're probably the same people. Don't even get me started on how hard P.O.D. Rules!

Onto “Music That Doesn't Suck” news, I missed Ghastly City Sleep in L.A. Last weekend. Not that I didn't want to go and support them, considering just getting the tour off the ground was a huge undertaking, but I didn't have the money myself. Being a cartoonish, Vaudevillian villain doesn't pay as well as you may think.

And as the year winds down you eventually start to think about your favorite whatevers of the year. Albums, movies, whatever. And I hate to be the guy who says this, because I usually hate this guy, but there just hasn't been a whole lot of music in 2008 that got me really psyched. Any suggestions?

Oh and i'm looking for someone to go see Synecdoche, New York with me in Hillcrest sometime soon. No one I know wants to go see a long ass, probably boring but ultimately great Charlie Kaufman movie.

P.S. After all this time I think I've come to a shocking conclusion: I think my favorite Built to Spill record is in fact Keep It Like A Secret. Not Perfect From Now On. Fuck off, people who think Perfect is better.

GDB

hump day shortlist: I am kind of light-headed right now

Okay so, on Friday I have to get surgery or whatever so they needed me to go in today to take a pregnancy test. They might as well give my neutered male cat a pregnancy test but that's neither here nor there. The point is, they did not tell me they were also going to take a bunch of my blood. That's just rude. AND they failed to address me properly. Fucking outrageous.

I had a really good shortlist post mapped out in my head. I was going to start rambling about metaphors and bullshit and quote Jorge Luis Borges but I am kind of light headed right now so bear with me as I delve into some music for Southern California's least favorite and most metaphorical season: Winter.



I know I posted about this song by The Silent Years before, but dang it's good. DANG.

Next on my shortlist is Au Revoir Simone. From what I understand, they are a set of magical triplets who play their keyboards in the forest, spending their days in picking berries and singing perfect, sugar-spun harmonies.



I love this song "Fallen Snow" but it makes me want to sit them down and give them some solid relationship advice. Not that anyone should listen to me. I'm a (metaphorical) virgin who can't drive (that was way harsh).



Hey, while I was watching the above video for the Dodos' "Winter" I remembered that thing that Borges said. It's in the Paris Review Interview book and it's something about how the oldest metaphors are still the best, the richest, the truest. I don't really know where I was going with that but it's food for thought as the sun sets on us earlier and earlier and our neighbors set up inflatable snowmen on their evergreen lawns.

back to the 18th century
megan elizabeth

Clean Up on Aisle Tuesday: Jason Mraz is a lifestyle I refuse to support

Megan and I have been talking about making another video soon, something about a slumber party and prescription painkillers. The soundtrack is going to be way better than that pussy Gayplosions in the Sky shit your guys' dreams are cut to. We're thinking a little Deep Sleepover (see what I did there? It's one of them double entenders!), a little Bat For Lashes and definitely a metric fuckton of GG Allin.

The reason I am talking about making the video instead of doing it is 1. I have a rager of a headache and have to wake up in the middle of the goddamn night tomorrow (6 a.m.) and 2. I am too pissed about Jason Mraz to do anything besides complain about him on the internet.

I work with a girl that has some shitty Mraz-ak as a ringtone and it makes me want to slam my head in the freezer full of half-finished vanilla frappucinos (going to In-N-Out- for a vanilla shake makes too much fucking sense). I'll be honest, dude's got some pipes. Unfortunately for humanity, he hasn't quietly committed his life to professional musical theatre. He done committed himself to this:


I already didn't like the little mole man for threatening to hug one of my best friends in the entire world with his mind on the internet after a large-scale finance related scuffle but the Mraz is like Sublime: Not just terrible music. Jason Mraz's music embodies everything I hate about dudes in San Diego that aren't bros. It's the Seven jeans and flip flops in winter lifestyle. It's the dumb hat (includes newsboy caps and straw fedoras) in 5,000 degree weather lifestyle. It's the none of this makes any fucking sense yet you're telling me to "relax" and "go with the flow" lifestyle. It's the "if you tell me to just chill out and enjoy the jams one more time I will shove my foot so far up your ass you will shit in the shape of a size 8.5 platform Victorian oxford for a year" lifestyle.







Size 8.5 sounds a lot less intimidating than 10. Maybe I should have fudged my shoe size a little. Welp, that settles it. Off to stretch my feets.

In hate we trust,

'stina

ballad of a ladyman

Hey ponies, it's Corin Tucker's birthday today! You KNOW what that means. A whole bunch of damn videos.

First, Sleater-Kinney's video for "Get Up". Fun fact: directed by Miranda July.



Here they are live, doing one of my favorite songs from Dig Me Out "One More Hour". Fun fact: Corin Tucker is the reason I absolutely HAD to have the black Danelectro with the white swirl.



Here she is talking about being a mama.



Donuts and chocolate milk? ADOPT ME PLEASE.

It was sad when Sleater-Kinney broke up, but time has brought wisdom. I can be content to enjoy what they've done and what they've done for the future of lady-rock.

"Entertain"


xox
megan elizabeth

one trick pony: marquee moon

Something about this time of year always makes me turn inward and reflect on the really important things in life, things like what the fuck happened to my copy of Marquee Moon? Usually when this mood strikes me, I dig around in my closet for a little while, get frustrated and decide that my older brother probably took it because he is old. That's when I give up because it's not like I'm going to drive all the way to godforsaken Nebraska to demand he give me my cds back.

This year, however, I decided to suck it up and download the album. Good decision.

TELEVISION--"MARQUEE MOON"


I fucking love this song so much. I used to rock this shit on cassette in my '94 Buick Century all the time. It's a surprisingly effective way to not pick up dudes. Man, that car was a sex-mobile.



"Hey little boy, I've got ice cream and video games in my back seat."

Back to the music... I can't really tell you what this song is about besides rad guitars, but the take-away message for me has always been this: waiting for things under the moon is really frustrating and probably a bad idea. To illustrate my point, just listen to this equation Stevens Seagalll axed us ponies to solve last night, beneath what was either a 15/32 moon or a 7/16 moon. We're sitting in the dirt and I'm drinking twist off wine. "Five N over six equals the moon. Solve for moon." Fuck dude, you know women can't do math.

Area woman discovers time zone within time zone: Boy Time

As usual, I am having 99 problems and all of them are bitches. Megan was nice enough to call me during her break at school to remind me to study the scripture of Clueless. "Christian said he'd call the next day, but in boy time that meant Thursday." Other shit we discussed included rogue bus drivers, kind of hot but endlessly annoying green peace dudes and Xiu Xiu. Jamie Stewart has dude problems too. Sometimes.


I wasn't a Xiu Xiu-ite until we went to see them at Le Chateau Casbah, but they are a pretty intriguing bunch. I periodically check the Xiu Xiu site because Jamie Stewart is a fucking weirdo and posts some crazy shit, like weird bondage pictures of Bolivian dudes with their dicks tied together and David Horvitz's suicide announcement. Today, there were no such pleasantries but drummer/percussionist/president of the Bay Area Tall Guys Club Ches Smith released the last part of a found sound manipulation project he's been working on called Y/OUR Town. It's pretty cool, he left a recorder on the merch table at all their shows on the last tour and later made it into...something else. In case you're not familiar with Xiu Xiu, here's a couple videos:

my personal favorite Xiu Xiu Xong, Xad Pony Guerilla Girl (fan video):



Boy Xoprano:



I Do What I Want, When I Want:




I am your girl and I will protect you,

'Xtina

hump day shortlist: got my stunna shades on

Last night when I saw that Stina wasn't going to post a clean-up, I momentarily considered writing my own Clean Up On Aisle Tuesday: the Madonna Edition. Luckily for that dried up old hoe (Madonna, not Stina) I was way too busy being proud of my country to muster up the muster to really hate anything (until I heard prop 8 passed. Sanctity of marriage my dick).

So on to the Shortlist. I just had a couple moles removed and my left hand is still numb so I don't feel much like typing right now, but let me just say one thing: there are few things that these ponies love more than celebrating their joy with some hyphy.







Now if you'll excuse me, I just remembered something about some maneuver known as "the stranger" that I might attempt while my hand lacks feeling. Got to do some more research.

fo sho
megan elizabeth

Always better to over-fierce than under-fierce

There are a lot of things that I need to address in a very short amount of time, so I'm going to do so in a series of letters. Bear with me.

Dear Michael Crichton,

You picked a terrible day to die. It will eternally be overshadowed by Barack Obama's historic victory. Regardless, thanks for writing Jurassic Park.


Dear Barack Obama,

Don't make me eat my words (vote) on this one, dude. Congratulations though.


Dear California,

You fucked up.


Dear Really Excited Probably Gay Guy and His Wife Beard in front of us at Madonna,

You suck. You are seriously one of the most annoying concertgoers I have EVER experienced. Your relentless jumping and fist-waving prevents the rest of us from seeing shit. Emmanuel didn't pay $800 to see you fucking flailing around with your butt buddy. I was so happy when you got kicked out for like a minute, because I could see without distraction, but then you were allowed back and made an even bigger commotion I silently wished the lasers were real and would sweep into your row. I don't care if it took down your wifebeard as well as your molecular biology professor buddy and his mail order bitch, it would be worth it. God, lasers are cool.


Dear America,

You're a system that doesn't really work all that well, but at least (like the Good Doctor says) you've officially got soul.


Dear Pharrell,

Baby, why wasn't you there? So disappointed. I would hit that front, back, side to side. Yeeeah.


Dear Lady in the bathroom that told me I look like Katy Perry,

No, I don't. Yeah, I kissed a girl. It wasn't that great. Rather kiss a dude.


Dear Madonna,

I used to think you were a cold, money mongering robot that had a couple good songs back in the day. Last night, I found out that you are a human. A tiny, muscly human that could probably go to town on some garlic fries, but nonetheless a human. I was surprised at how much you actually sang as well as how steady and clear you were. I guess it makes sense, you are the self-proclaimed Queen of Pop. I'll be honest, when you fucked up the words to "Ray of Light" and attributed it to being "so fucking happy" that Obama won, it warmed my icy heart. Slightly. Thinking you were human made me remember being a wee toddler, wearing a leopard print silk scarf and diaper, dancing around my living room with my mom's microphone to "Lucky Star" while my mom did her Step workout. So I guess, in a way, my parents have you to blame for all this "I'm a jaded musician" bullshit I've put them through. One of my favorite things about you is that your songs don't sound identical to the album, they're unique to the tour, but in a good way. The metal version of "Hung Up?" LOVES IT. Your performance transcends just music, or just dancing. The videos, the sets, the lasers, EVERYTHING. The costumes? Amaaaaazing. They're all Givenchy and I heard you spent over $1 million on swarovski crystals alone. You had these amazing satin boots:



but this was one of my favorite outfits:


Girl, you so FIIIIIERCE!!!I'm sorry that San Diego sucks. Emmanuel told me the floor people get really serious and decked out in couture so I had to be really fierce but it was a bunch of old white people with too much goddamn money. Truth is, I'd rather over-fierce.


'stina

Ch-ch-ch-ch-chaaaaanges

Hey guys, there's not going to be a Clean Up on Aisle Tuesday because I'm going to see Madonna. Yeah, it's gay, I know, but I feel compelled in the sense that it is historically relevant or some shit.

Hope y'all voted! But not for McCain!

'stina

We Are 138 (and covered in corn syrup)

"Dude, this is like one of the best shows I've ever been to."

"Mmhmm."

"They're so funny, it's just like-"

"OHMYGOD she just ripped the heart out of the girl dressed as Todd Palin and said 'that adorable lumberjack didn't see it coming!'"

Megan and I went down to North Park to hang out with The Mistits and catch their show at Bar Pink Elephant. For those of you that made the very poor decision to not join us, you missed the best show of your life and for those of you that are performers, you missed a serious lesson in showmanship. The Mistits are without a doubt, the best live band I have ever seen with the natural exception of Wolf Parade/Sunset Rubdown/any time Spencer Krug is on a stage. I have never in my show-going career witnessed explosive energy like I did on Halloween.


I didn't take that picture because all of mine turned into bullshit thanks to the smoke machine and the Tall Guys Club meeting in front of us, but thanks to whoever did. If you want me to put your actual name, I'll do that too. Back to the show, I don't really remember what they played too well because I am shitty at remembering set lists but I recall enjoying the panty-dropping strange juxtaposition of a blood-spattered Jackie O wailing the words to "Last Caress." Megan isn't even into the Misfits and had a fantastic time. That said, I hereby present (on the internet) the first ever Pony Girl Club "Best Halloween Ever" award to The Mistits. We love you guys. No, seriously. It is, however, safe to say I do not want to see a certain Peruvian hold a cigarette with his ass ever again, though.

When in doubt, rip someone's heart out,

'stina

p.s. here is a video of Barack Obama dancing on Ellen: