Blue Sunday
Listening to Baroness’ Blue Record and dreaming of giant stone monoliths to climb and stand triumphantly upon.
Also…
I love it when she talks dirty.
Sweet Tooth #1 by Jeff Lemire
on sale today only at your local comic books shop!
Picked this up today. It looks promising. First issue for just a dollar!
I bought it at Comic Book Jones on Forest Ave., which might be the nicest comic book shop I’ve ever been in. It’s only about a year or two old. Hardwood floors, cool employees, free coffee, lounge chairs. Since when did buying comics become so comfortable? What happened to the apathetic, misanthropic, socially inept nerd manning a messy counter? Oh, that’s right, I haven’t worked at a comic book store in years.
Silent Bob Sings the Blues
I had just did poorly on a game show. It’s funny because I received a random message from a friend of mine in Portland who said he’d had a dream about me getting my ass handed to me on Jeopardy. This time, though, I’d failed miserably at a bizarre version of Deal or No Deal that could be played via video screen (much like Keno can be played in bars) and involved a contraption that looked sort of like those DVD rental machines that are popping up in front of supermarkets.
Afterward, I had to do an interview with Kevin Smith. I didn’t prep any questions. I figured I’d just wing it. For some reason, I was confident I’d be able to do it. I used to be a big fan of his, but as I got older, I found his movies less entertaining. I still haven’t seen the Clerks sequel, and I’m not sure I want to. After a while, I started to resent him for being seen as some kind of comic book guru just because he was a celebrity who actually read them. Now, I just think he’s kind of a douche. But I was looking forward to interviewing him, despite the whole episode with the game show.
It was a face to face interview. The dream was in first-person perspective, and I remember me holding my Sony recorder toward him as I asked a few questions to break the ice. We seemed to have a good repoire. Soon after we started, he said, “Wait, wait. Can I try something different? Like, do you mind if we didn’t just do a question and answer?” I said sure, because I didn’t have any questions prepared anyway (but I didn’t tell him the last part). We sat down on opposite sides of the bench, and he started singing in a quiet falsetto. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, but he wasn’t a good singer, and the song was terrible. I should’ve expected as much.
I know there’s nothing more uninteresting than another person’s dreams…my apologies.
