check yourself

Hey little Ponygirls and boys, as you may be aware, October is breast cancer awareness month. Here at Ponygirl Headquarters, we care about the health and vitality of your jugs and we cannot stress enough the importance of regular self-exams in addition to the titty massage provided by your doctor. Do as I say, not as I do, readers! For I have been lax in regard to my tatas and now I see the error in my ways. It sucks to go to the doctor thinking there is trouble in your southern seaport only to find that in fact you've got unwanted developments in your northern business district. Nobody likes unpleasant surprises.

I'm posting a link to directions for the self-exam. Our male readers should practice on themselves too. In case any of y'all ever get a girlfriend, it'll make her think you're really sensitive in a pervy way. Alternately, you could use the knowledge to establish yourself as a freelance O.B. Gyn in the alley behind your local grocery store. The possibilities are endless.

Ladies, I hunted down some videos that might put you in the mood.





The money shot on this one is around 1:40.


Also, from now until the end of the month, the Ponygirls are for sale, kind of. The highest bidder will receive an evening of music, drunken oversharing and laughter with the ponygirls, the cash going to breast cancer research of course. Start your bidding in the comments. If we instruct you to bid on us (stevens!!) and you are outbid, step down gracefully. Say something like, "I get them the other 364 days a year!"

breastfully yours,
megan elizabeth

I'll meet you where the river forks...shit, I'd meet you in a pit of fucking snakes

There are very few Sunset Rubdown songs (when I say "Sunset Rubdown" I also mean the piss-poor quality solo recordings) I don't have. When I say that, I mean there are like two. That I know of. It's kind of creepy that I have the last few years of Spencer Krug's activity chronicled in my pocket anyways, but it's cool you guys. No big deal.

Rationalization aside, I was trying to figure out those god-forsaken myspace playlist things and found some old-ass songs the Krug probably recorded in the basement of his apartment building (do they even have apartments in Canada, or just huts?) that I imagine is smack-dab in the middle of a town square that looks like that village in Beauty and the Beast. One is called "It Wouldn't Let Them Down" and the other is called "Give Up On Your Ghost." The former is more standard noisy Krug shit involving a guitar and an accordion, while the latter sounds more like David Bowie in Labyrinth and Danny Elfman picked up a player piano and simultaneously Being John Malkovich-ed our Tiger Beat centerfold.



Awwww, look at that guy! It's like one of those pictures of a smiling kitten:

God, I love kitties. In case you didn't catch that link above, THIS was the only place I could find those songs. Seriously, I tried. I might have to e-mail the dudes over at Snakes Got A Blog, 'cause I know they got 'em. One of the places I tried was the Sunset Rubdown threads over at the Wolf Parade forums, to no avail, obvs. but I did find videos people were posting from the shows on the EAST COAST TOUR they recently got to go to. There were a few videos of new songs but apparently Jordan (not the Deep Sleepover dude, he's too busy making good music) asked the youtubers to take them down. Bummer. What are we supposed to do? Y'all don't tour here (or anywhere near the West Coast), so we're supposed to pretend it's not 2008, act like we don't have technology to pry into shit and just sit on our hands 'till the new record comes out? Yes, that would be polite but GODDAMMIT.

I need to go file my talons into points now, so here's a video from two couple days ago, filmed AT A SHOW WE COULDN'T GO TO BECAUSE IT WAS ACROSS THE DAMN COUNTRY AND OUR ECONOMY IS SHITTY AND WE'RE STUDENTS THAT DON'T MAKE ANY MONEY. It's one of our favorite songs, "Shut Up I Am Dreaming of Places Where Lovers Have Wings:"



'stina

mark your calendars

As you may be aware (no, not "may", "fucking should") my birthday is now less than a month away. September 21st, mark your calendars. What do I want for my birthday, you ask?

In the best of all possible worlds I would be standing in the front row at a Sunset Rubdown show just soaking it all in, like this person did.



In a perfect world, they would let me shake a tambourine and sing back up. Sadly, Mr. Krug seems to have forgotten my birthday. What the fuck dude? I'm pretty sure you glanced at me at least three times like a month ago and yet you choose to go on some kind of hell-tour during with my birthday month that takes you down the savage east coast, through the bleak midwest and into the perverse, corrupt heart of the drrty south but not to Paradise, California? It's enough to make me want to leave town.

Well, that and the fact that I already want to leave town. I'm having a rough week. I'm not even doing my ponygirl homework this week. On my free time I'm mostly just dicking around on my guitar and yelling or reading some Charlotte Bronte and trying not to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Got the first world blues. My hair don't look right.

Also fucking up my birthday: Flight of the Conchords. My other best of all possible worlds scenario involves them in my backyard, cupcakes and a trampoline, but get this: Jemaine just got fucking married. To a redhead, true, but that aint gonna fill the hole in my heart and I'm not that into Brett. Also, they will be performing in New York the two days before my birthday. Sigh. Sunset Rubdown is in NY on the 16th. Maybe I should start hitch-hiking now?

Naw, I will probably just go to work on my birthday. Do you have any idea what kind of unspeakable sex acts I have to perform to get a damn weekend night off?

Speaking of unspeakable sex acts: Saturday, 5:00, Casa Del Prado, Balboa Park, Celebrate Dance Festival, FOR FREE. Y'all don't wanna know what I went through to get that night free to dance for you.

music for the drive home

I would say it's been a funny night except I think the word I'm actually searching for is "magical". Went to the Saloon and not once but twice walked in to the ladies room to absolutely no line. Ladies at the Saloon know that's a song in the key of never. Also, when I first walked into the bar some dude I've never seen before up and kissed my hand without even the slightest provocation. I guess Thursday is Victorian day?

Anyway, you know how Christina is always announcing that she would be more than happy to sign some titties at a ponygirl outing, you know, to do a favor to one of our 7 fans (she's really serious y'all. I've seen the sharpies she carries)? Well, I'm pleased to make my own offer: You may kiss my hand but you may not address me. How's that for magnanimous?

Since this is still a blog about music or whatever, I wanted to share what I listened to while gulping down vitamin water and chomping on doritos. WARNING: this video contains titties. I have been seriously digging on this song but only in the middle of the night. It's by Deep Sleepover (Michael Doersken of Sunset Rubdown y'all) and I kind of don't want to spoil it by listening to it during the day. The song is called "Downtown Clown". It sounds really good loud except the saxophone solo kind of hurts my ears at the volume that I like the rest of the song, so watch out for that.

I like this song so much I'm tempted to write really douchy meaningless things about it and pretend that I write for pitchfork. When I listen to Deep Sleepover, it will always be my favorite part of summer, the end of summer: August. Windows down, heater on. The wind in my hair might as well be familiar hands and the heavy reverb sends echoes through my core that reach my earliest childhood memories of thinking clowns were really fucking scary. Man, I am still kind of scared of clowns. And I will ask myself, should I really be driving and the answer is already there and the answer is always already yes because I am already driving and anyway I am only doubting myself because I am overtired but I am too tired to sleep and too tired not to write run on sentences and apparently not tired enough to correct them. I take the dark roads, the windy roads, the roads that smell like lagoon dirt where bunnies run haphazard in the street and I have to slam on the brakes a few times to save them and music is like that you know?

Yeah, you know what I mean.

Anyway, I think tomorrow night we're gonna go see Xiu Xiu at the Casbah and it should be good times. I'm gonna go spoon my kitty and see if the tv can't sing me to sleep.

Oh fuck, P.S.

I can play 3 guitars WHATEVER

So, I visited my dad the other day. He's cleaning out his garage and he just gave me a Fender amp. YES PLEASE. He also showed me this really infuriating video.



That's a guy named Stanley Jordan and he is so good at guitar I never want to leave my house again until I can best him. He plays one guitar like it's two and then he goes ahead and plays two guitars. He treats objects like women. Of course I had to say something like, he has to play two guitars because I'm sure nobody wants to play with him anymore, acting out that way, but I know it's not true. It makes me wish I hadn't blown off all the scales and shit my guitar teacher wanted me to do when I was 14 and I was like, "You taught me power chords. You fucked up. I'm just gonna go sit in my room and yell now." Damn it. Stanley Jordan just played at Anthology a week ago, which is a nice place, sort of an upscale version of that club kids were always hanging out at on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I'm glad I didn't go because I probably would have punched someone. Anyone. I'm a pretty mediocre guitarist.

Also, it's been a few weeks since I personally posted anything Spencer Krug related and I'm getting the shakes or something. Time for a fix.



That's a new Sunset Rubdown song called, "5/4 Silver Moons". See all those camera flashes? It was like that when we saw him too (Full disclosure: some of them were us). I was thinking, he might find it distracting and there are definitely things he can do about it. He could try either being better lit or less adorable. Maybe sunglasses? I don't know. I just want to help.

But seriously, what is it about that guy? Every time he writes a new song and it makes its way into my ears I think, hot damn, that is my new favorite song of all time. Is he hypnotizing me? Is he a magician? Did he make a some kind of deal with the devil? Is he slowly developing an Irish brogue? Whatever it is, he's doing something right. Without pissing me off. That's tricky as fuck.

If you feel like dancing, dance with me

I just wanted to remind everyone that tonight is the Rocky Votolato show tonight at The Casbah. I will sign your tits. Seriously. Just ask.

Also, this band Bishop Allen came on shuffle yesterday and I felt compelled to post one of their videos and instruct y'all to check them out. I heard about these dudes because the singer, Justin Rice, was in this horrible indie movie "Mutual Appreciation" (part of the "mumblecore" movement?). Justin Rice has a really bad case of the hot and a good portion of his music was used in the soundtrack. Two good songs are on their 'space, "Things are What You Make of Them" and "Flight 180."

I present you a video:






Also, I found the live version of that new Sunset Rubdown song Megan posted about a while ago, tentatively titled "You Go on Ahead." It sounds pretty promising. When I say promising I mean I like it and will fight anyone who dares say otherwise. JUST TRY ME, BITCH!!!




and I will appear before you virgin white if virgins are still chaste,

'stina.

if virgins are still chaste

I don't know if you've heard of the black cab sessions, so I thought I would just take this opportunity to inform you that they're pretty sweet. Simple idea: a band gets in a cab and plays a song. The videos are a little washed out and wobbly but they have an intimate vibe and beautiful music and that makes it all better. The latest video was Fleet Foxes, and Spoon and Scout Niblett have videos up too. There are a few groups on there that I'm less jazzed about coughdeathcabforcutiecough, but nothing will make me less than ecstatic about the Sunset Rubdown video in which they perform the new song "You Go On Ahead".



My feelings for Spencer Krug are drifting gently into scary-fangirl-knitting-you-a-pair-of-mittens territory so I will keep my remarks brief.

I love it.