Call Me Crank

On occasion it is necessary, if not downright pleasing, to assume another identity in the course of executing one's business. The Bunny has been known to make use of the nom de guerre Rooster Cogburn for restaurant reservations and the like, and it is an open secret that I attended, indeed participated in, the Bunny's recent nuptials under the alias of Todd Romero. Some other personas I have adopted - or may adopt - as the situation dictates include:

Monsieur SquigglyMan
SubCommander Zeep
Karl Roktober
Brigadier General Lurid-Bigguns
One-Eyed Johnny Kildare
The Old Gaffle
Lefty

Bring the Noise

I have been tagged. I am the proverbial it.

Very well then. Though it may prove difficult to limit myself to come up with the full five this game requires, here are my weird habits.

1. I like to dip my potato chips.

Now , you're probably thinking, what's so weird about that? Lots of people dip their potato chips.

True, but they dip their chips in, well, dip. Me, I prefer soup. Minestrone or tomato soup to be exact. The potato chips are always Cape Cod potato chips. Of course.

So yes. Instead of soup and bread, I have soup and chips.

2. I store my t-shirts in specific categories.

There are three piles in my t-shirt draw. First, there is the 'A-list' pile. These are my favorite t-shirts, the first to be worn (if they're not reserved for certain occasions, like my Red Sox t-shirts.) Next we have the 'mid-list' pile. There's nothing wrong with these t-shirts - some of them are pretty cool - they just don't quite make the cut for the A-list. Still they get quite a bit of wear. Finally, we have the 'C-list' pile. These are the old and worn t-shirts, the bland and boring t-shirts. These are the ones worn for any kind of dirty task, such as painting, or resorted to when I'm low on clean clothes to wear due to cutting it close with laundry day.

I can't recall exactly how long I've been storing my t-shirts in these fashion. I know it's been at least since college, as I can recall my then girlfriend laughing hysterically when I explained I was folding and putting away my t-shirts so deliberately.

3. I keep lists concerning books.

I'm sure I've blogged of this before, but what the hell. I keep lists concerning books. Actually I keep three lists concerning books. I am the Rainman of books and lists.

I have a notebook - an old composition book - wherein I list the books that I have read each year. The current notebook goes back to 1998; other, older notebooks go back to '91 or '92.

I also carry about one of those ever-so-handy Moleskin notebooks. In addition to random scribblings, favorite quotes and disjointed reminders, this notebook contains two ongoing lists: one of the books I'd like to find (for reference when I'm digging through a stack at the used book store) and one of the (many many) books I own that I haven't read yet.

There you have it: I am insane. Anyone want to hang out? Bwa-ha-ha-ha.

4. I always read two books at once.

Here we are with the book thing again. As an aside, please take note that I find great comfort in the description of bibliophilia as 'the gentle madness.' Really, I'm not in the least bit dangerous.

Anyways... I always have two books going at any time, one each of fiction and non-fiction. So I can, you know, switch back and forth, depending on my mood.

5. I cannot remain still and/or quiet while watching the Red Sox play.

During the course of nine innings I am compelled to jump, dance, pace, yell, hide my face and otherwise make a spectacle of myself. Even when on my best behavior I'm prone to sudden outbursts of profanity.

Bonus Fun Fact:

I loathe the band Green Day. Loathe them. I hate the fact that their extraordinarily derivative music is considered significant in any way. I hate the fact that the ignorant mistake them and their shite for punk. I abhor their moronic political posturing.

Thanks, I feel better now.

Oops, almost forget - I'm supposed to tag five others to do their own lists. I tag Heather, la whisky, Chris, and my cousin.

Oh We Meander

The Bunny was home for the holidays this past weekend, and many important topics were discussed and issues resolved. As I am pressed for time at the moment, I shall acquaint you, dear reader, with two of these weighty matters.

1. Mass Ave has been renamed 'the Boulevard of Broken Dreams.' For the exact reasoning behind this decision, you may seek me out at the local for an explanation. If you don't where the local is, you'll just have to take my word for it. Trust me, our reasoning was sound.

2. Hats. There was much talk of hats. Friday night the Bunny decided that he needed a new Red Sox hat, and so the following morning we drove in to that giant-ass souvenir store by Fenway. Not only was there a lengthy debate on which hat to purchase, to join the existing rotation of Sox gear, but once the purchase was made it was necessary to determine which place in the rotation the new hat would assume. You see, any serious Sox fan who is also a hat person has a serious collection of Sox hats... and a serious collection of Sox hats merits a serious rotation, comparable to the pitching rotation of a Major League ball club, with the forethought that requires.

I am talking serious stuff here people.

So, after much consideration, I present to you my 2006 starting rotation of Red Sox hats:

The Ace
Navy Blue with a red B. The old reliable of the staff - the hat you can count on, the hat you can turn to when you need a win. This classic is definitely a stopper, and can anchor any fan's rotation.

Number Two
Navy Blue with red socks icon. While the number two hat may lack the historical pedigree and track record of the Ace it has more than earned it's spot on the staff. If the bold red B is a blazing fastball, then the two red socks emblazoned on the front of number two can be considered a devastating changeup.

Number Three
Navy Blue with red Nine in a white circle. Like Ted Williams this hat contains elements of greatness. And like Ted Williams the number three is also a little ornery and out-spoken. This hat is best suited for occasions that call for swearing and opining loudly, hitting things, and landing crippled jet fighters.

Number Four
Kelly green with white B and shamrock. This hat was purchased Saturday and immediately entered the rotation in the four slot. Not a hat you'd lead off an important series with, but not a hat you'd fear sending to the mound.

Number Five
Kelly Green with red B and shamrock. This hat is number five for the same reason Bronson Arroyo often rounds out the back end of the rotation - both are inconsistent. The key to the number five hat is finding it a suitable match up.

The Southpaw
Kahki bucket hat with red B. Like a left-handed reliever of the Mike Myers ilk, this hat will come out of the pen only in very specific situations.

The Kid
Kelly green with red P. This hat has great stuff, but is struggling to find a spot on an already crowded staff.

More Better Weirdness

Now isn't that photo just begging for a caption?

I lifted this image from the Llamabutchers and was unable to resist putting it up here here. I find pictures of the Cruise android and Holmes zombie fascinating. And unsettling. Just like pictures of clowns.

The first thing that popped into my head when I first saw this picture was the infamous 'dancing-with-myself-in-front-of-mirror' scene from The Silence of the Lambs, which I guess has become my mental shorthand for extreme weirdness and displays of blatant insanity.

"It takes a deep breath and it blows out the candles. Or it gets the hose."

Alive and Well

Yakov Smirnoff is alive and well and living in Branson.

I mention this because, beyond all odds, the name and subject of Yakov Smirnoff was referenced in actual conversation the other night.

Yes. This frightened me as well. It was such an ominous development that Mike and I decided our best option was to A) pretend it never happened and B)immediately order another round and sit quietly.

Thanksgiving Five

I thought it only appropriate to note the coming holiday with a special and particular post. A post about being thankful, not only for the presence of certain things in your life, but for the absence of certain things in your life. So, for your illumination and consideration dear readers....

Five Songs So Overplayed You Should Be Thankful If You Never Hear Any Of Them Again. Ever.
5. Stairway to Heaven - Led Zeppelin
An overwrought song with absurd lyrics, Stairway to Heaven is a blot on the canon of Zep. There's really no need for this song to exist within your musical purview once you leave the confines of high school. Kindly cue up Good Times Bad Times as an antidote.
4. You Shook Me - AC/DC
I likes me some AC/DC. But I cannot - not even a little - abide this song. AC/DC makes hard-rockin' ass-kickin' music. Music for drivin' fast, binge drinking, breaking furniture and simply lighting yourself on fire. The music of AC/DC was not intended - not even in the band's worst imaginings - to be an anthem and rallying call for flipperheads.
3. The Joker - The Steve Miller Band
Wow, was this a tough entry to figure. You could pretty much put down the entire contents of Greatest Hits 1974-1978 and call it a day, but that seemed a little too easy, a little too much like cheating. As it was, The Joker edged out Rock N' Me by a hair, largely due to the fact that after The Joker turned up on an episode of The Simpsons it took on a zombie-like quality of simply refusing to die a decent death. The song has become the kind of nightmarish standard that bar bands feel obliged to cover, while Rock N' Me remains safely confined to the dusty tomb of classic rock radio stations where it can do little or no harm.
2. Old Time Rock & Roll - Bob Seger
This entry involved another decision that was very difficult for me to make. Simply put, there any number of Bob Seger songs I need never hear again. Turn The Page? All set with that. Night Moves? Ditto. But in the end it simply had to be Old Time Rock & Roll. How many times has this song been inflicted on me at a wedding? How many times did the video for this song - with those terrible images of the early model Tom Cruise Android prancing about - coming jumping out at me during the long ago days of MTV? Why, I ask you all, why? What was it all for?

And the number one entry....

1. Hotel California - The Eagles
This song is the Chief Devil of Overplayed songs. This song is my Beelzebub. I hate and fear Hotel California. Just the opening notes of this song start me to twitching violently and I will immediately seek to turn the station, unplug the stereo or otherwise terminate the source of 'the bad sound.' If forced to suffer all the way through to the first chorus, I'm generally ready to club Don Henley like a baby seal.

It has been over ten years since I listened to Hotel California from start to finish. Never again.

So there you go. Now go be thankful and have a lovely holiday.