Friday, July 31, 2009

Enjoy your weekend!


Yes, jagoff, that ink will be on your face FOREVER:

Food of the weekend

1. tonight - something the Bride is making, I'm supposed to bring home a pound of unspecified potatoes and a baguette?

2. tomorrow night - scallops with cilantro gremolata (pictured, and, yes, mine will be in elegant soft focus) and pasta with that carrot-y Mario Batali tomato sauce

3. Sunday - cold corn soup with crabmeat

Or I might just say "Eff it!" and eat CAKESTERS all weekend!

Missed out

If you were John Cheever (and I'm not saying you aren't) why wouldn't you put "The American Pastime" in The Stories of John Cheever?

Seven animal items

1. Above left is the Bride's co-worker's new dog Clancy! What a face!

2. Got up to go to the bathroom at 4 am and both cats were sitting on the bathroom rug, like, sitting up. No lying, not standing, just sitting up, fully awake. They were up to no good, obvs.

3. A Friend of the Blog went out on a date with a girl who volunteers at the local pet shelter every Sunday morning washing cats. This is the one noble thing that can be done in the world. I'd like a winter wedding.

4. Two weeks ago, there were two playful months-old tabbies in front of a church where there was a meeting. I suggested to the Bride we take these li'l sibs (brother and sister) but was somewhat sensibly rebuffed as we already have two cats. Then our friend Nick (no relation) said his lady-friend had been wanting two cats...he called her, said things along the lines of "I swear, they're gorgeous!", received assent, scooped them into his truck and was off like that [snaps fingers] with his fuzzy bounty! Rock! I hope Cobweb and Mab (as I named them, instantly) are happy and I'm sure they are!

5. My boss's daughter called the other day to say there were motherless bunnies outside daycare! Boss scooped them up and they are now on the farm with the rooster and my aunt's cat! Learned that bunnies won't drink cow milk, but will drink goat or cat milk! AND they all are born with a little white flame on their foreheads, which goes away as they mature.

6. Met my new nephew Stewart yesterday, a Schnauzer. He also met his uncle, my parent's car (and my brother) DC. There was a bit of a standoff on the cat's end, but otherwise they got along fine.

7. While the Bride was showing the Mercedes to a perspective buyer (yes, still!), a young woman came around the block with a little pup not dissimilar to Clancy [above]. I said "Wow, what's his name?," as I like to know the names of neighborhood animals. She said "Argh - don't know, he was just in the backyard when we got home today!" Some crumb had just dropped him off! I hope they kept him, and I think they should call him Midas.

Nerd the frig out!

I had to say how ridiculous/awesome it is that Mr Fox wears a skinny corduroy Wes Anderson suit.

Gonna print a stack of these to leave on cars

(click to enlarge)

Nothing to fear

If this North Korean beer commercial's graphics are any indication of the level of technology au fait in NoKo, we are going to live forever:

2009-2010 Year of the Female

Back when all I listened to was Pantera (he began), wait, that was someone else. Actually, though, I would not have believed how much good female rock was coming out. I understand the implicit sexism. Just stating my opinion!

I like Florence and the Machine...this here track is not super-representative of the album as a whole; there are spacy keyboards and Flo waxes a bit Natalie Merchant at parts. Still pretty great:

(link is weird - just look up "Kiss With a Fist" yerself)

And I like the Morrissey-attached Girl in a Coma:

So, yeah, I'm gonna throw out my Axe body spray and get with the girl-rock revolution. Or something.

Where were YOU?

Year 2 - starting today!

Yes, it's time to start our faboo second year here at Nick Eddy Relents! Still no intern - I helm this pig solo.

What can you do? If you read it all the time, join as a follower. I don't really care if you don't - I will continue my piercing screams into the void, regardless - but still it would hearten me in the daunting task of capturing the entire universe in blog posts every single goddam weekday. (?)

Anyway, stay tuned, more to come, etc. Imperial Bedrooms is just a year away now!

Thursday, July 30, 2009


Today is the one year anniversary of this here blog! Had you noticed? Admit it, you felt different somehow...better, even.

Alas, no time today for flowery encomia sent me-ward by, um, me. Tomorrow, though, twelve posts, I promise/threaten!

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Small favors, etc

Just realized I've never heard "Wilco (the Song)"!

Not even sure how one does?

Trash kids saved!

In D_____, no one even bats an eye when two kids are found in a trashcan!

"So?" say the hardened-against-shock denizens.

Still, I happened to know one of the firemen/EMT dudes who saved the day!:

Also: heard that some dude in Cincinnati was going to be late for his court date regarding a stolen car charge, so he stole a car to get there. Logic!


Do you need a cellphone picture of Bruce Jenner in the Jackson Wyoming airport? Well, here's one a friend took:

My friends do such interesting things! Another cohort recently "shared a plane with" Loni Anderson!

I do no interesting things, and am quite happy with that! Trop de pressure!

North by Northeast

This happened to me.

I was in the Subway at the nearby strip mall that is dying. Its 1988-looking Walmart is closed; a new superstore has just opened a mile away. The hangers-on are few. So, a sad milieu.

Lady ahead of me is fussing a bit over her coupon. The girl working says "Okay, ma'am, we'll take it this time...I'll call my manager and she what she says to do in the future."

I get my sarnie and the girl then looks at me, sizes me up and asks "Would you call this northeast Ohio?"

NE: [looks around to make sure he's the one being spoken to]: "Me? No."

"I mean..."

NE: "Northeast is Cleveland. This is southwest."

"Her coupon was for northeastern Ohio. I didn't know whether to take it."

We are living in a world where the citizenry don't know what corner of the state they live in. Because it doesn't matter!

Friday, July 24, 2009

Friday again

So, if you should see my cats, tell them I say hello, to be good, that I am
thinking of them and that I know they are watching over me somewhere, and not to
worry: that they can find me here, right here, my arms held out and waiting, in
the posts, behind the screen, at the end of Nick Eddy Relents.


I keep seeing these trash Nazi kids on the local news mugshot page:

Was wondering what the numerals meant on this moronic fizzog, and a Nick Eddy Relents Investigation revealed:

The 88 is for Heil Hitler (H being the 8th letter of the alphabet - cryptic!)

The 14 is for the fourteen words in "We must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children."

Nice! I'm sure they love this asshole in the holding tank.

I had never heard of this

I was looking at the preview for The Road (looks like shit, nice stock disaster footage!) for some reason I now forget (also think Cormac McCarthy Is Poo) and one of the of the youtube commenters was saying "Really. Wilhelm Scream? That in-joke is so tired" and I was all "Huh?"

So I duly looked it up and what weird world it is:

and this:

It makes me wonder what else I have never heard about. There can't be all that much, admittedly.

What? No cat stuff?

Yes, it has been two days since I posted any cat-related crapola. A mighty failing on my part. But we learn as we go, don't we?

Anyway: to those who think I must have time to waste (ahem), check THIS out:

Once in a lifetime

I'm a fairly masterful mimic. It has to be said. Scintillating prose is not my only gift!

So, the other day, I did about five seconds of perfect Jeff Goldblum. I was in the zone.

Cannot get it back, but for a couple of sentences, I was him.

Can't even remember what i was saying, but it was quite procedural/cop show-y.

Green tomato BLT

Don't want to hear about how your tomatoes aren't red yet. The dignified temperatures are the cause. In a week or so, it will be August and likely swampy, soupy and nasty. So enjoy.

Do this:


take some commercial mayo, a couple heaping tbsps of - add 2 tbsps or so chopped chives, 1 heaping tbsp chopped capers and a couple of minced/chopped garlic cloves. Mix, let sit

bacon: fry a qty of bacon to your liking (I prefer limp [twss]) in some chopped garlic [a pattern is being established]. Set aside.

tomatoes: In remaining bacon grease/fat, cook some sliced green tomatoes, cut side down if they are cherries...when they are browning, pour a glug or two of balsamic vinegar and a spoonful of dijon mustard and stir around until they are down.

Spread some of the mayo mixture on bread of your choice, embed some bacon and the tomatoes.

Die happy, if early.

Charles Portis

Happily reading The Dog of the South by Charles Portis (he of True Grit quasi-reknown). Very funny, quirky and true, etc. "Like an A Confederacy of Dunces that doesn't suck!" - some guy, somewhere. Portis was described as "shy, gifted" in the December 1989 GQ and it's true! I mean check out one of the three or so images of him available on the Electric World Net:

I mean, he's just begging for Bob Duvall to play him in a movie.
Who but a "shy, gifted" recluse would have this hostage-like photo out there?
Politburo-y as f-ck!

My Mondrian summer (198-)

I could have used these when I was fifteen and thought Mondrian was the greatest genius ever (cassette covers, etc):


Via Merriam-Webster, yesterday:

skosh \SKOHSH\ noun
: a small amount : bit, smidgen

Example sentence: The barista sprinkled a skosh of fresh ginger onto the
milky surface of the latte.

The origin of the word "skosh" comes from the Japanese word "sukoshi,"
which is pronounced "skoh shee" and means "a tiny bit" or "a small
amount." The japanese word was shortened by US servicemen stationed in
Japan after WWII. Later, in the Korean War, a small soldier was often
nicknamed "Skosh." In civilian-speak, "skosh" can be used as a noun (as in
the example sentence) or adverbially (as in "I'm a skosh tired").

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Try to think of something more pointless (warning: you can't)

I mentioned the Smithereens doing a whole LP where they cover Tommy in its entirety, yes?

What's more pointless?

Think about it.

What if I told you Scarlett Johannson was doing a record with Pete Yorn?

Top it.

Hey, Pixies!

Touring Doolittle!


Yes, I had this ball cap,

though I was not at all a "hat" in the strictest definition (early 90's phenom of beery, frat-ish boys in white college-logo ballcaps).

1991 - crazy times!

Dash Snow, etc

Well, of course I'm looking forward to the inevitable Vanity Fair exhumation/excoriation of the life and times of Dash Snow. How could I not be? I will probably buy the book as well, because there is sure to be one and having it lying around is super-assholish in Koons-ian way [translation available - password required].

But, as Gawker pointed out, the goon left a daughter behind. Which is appalling. I've known two young guys who died through pharmacological misadventure in the last couple years and left kids behind (one baby was less than two months old - what a lead he will have, someday!), and, while Dash's daughter probably already has a contract with some gallery, it's still very sad and way too typical.

Plus his daughter's name is Secret Aliester Ramierez Messenger Santa Creeper Snow. Which is an anagram of "My dad is a spoiled druggy dumbass."

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Shit yes, Noisettes

I see the name Noisettes around a lot, but it wasn't until I had them confirmed by the August Vogue* that I sought them out and commenced losing it entirely. Another example of why the UK still retains pole position as The Coolest Place on Earth, while America continues to like Nickleback or whatever.

I mean, c'mon:

Plus the lovely Shingai (she of the viking ship hairdo in the vid) is the bass player!

The whole new album sounds like something from the Holy Year 1982, only modern production, etc. Actual songs, etc. And it's one of those records that gets better as it goes, instead of the sinking feeling one gets as a group runs out of songs. Seriously, this is the best surprise female-fronted act since Thao and the Get Down Stay Down. Says me!

* also Christy Turlington sister is married to Ed Burns's brother! Thanks, A Dubs!

Dream logic

Struggling with waking this morning and listening to the rain, I became convinced of something in that half-awake way and then could not get it out of my head as I tossed and turned: I was utterly sure that the Tour de France was all done on fixed gear bikes and that, indeed, the Tour dudes were the greatest supermen ever, etc. I think this is because of the preponderance of Beardie Hipsters in our neighborhood, on fixed-gear bicycles with skinny jeans (11 years too late).

Anyway, by the time I had a shower, I realized I was crazy and that there indeed 10 gears on TdF bikes. Did not know that the bikes must weigh at least 14.4 lbs, however, until I checked.

ANYway, it's over now.


"...Nicolas Cage...he makes good movies, though."

[Yes, his movies are good, as opposed to his artisinal cheeses or line of heathered v-neck teeshirts - ed.]

"But, in fact, this is usable as a hat"


Here's a pic from the Chicago Tribune Pitchfork fest or whatever it's called. Forkfest? It's old Mink drummer Matt Espy pulling David Yow away from the hordes of indie locusts (fairly sure that's probably Michael Des Barres in the tan cap):

Someone's cred is increasing because of this - Matt's? Mine? Yow's? YOURS?

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

NEED! x 1,000,000,000


Our city is in bad shape, with household-name businesses pulling out and rampant crime and such. Where to even start? The general worldwide economic mess has just exacerbated a winding down that has been going on for twenty-five years. Jobs are needed, yes. But a more important question that "how do we bring in new companies and work?" is "what can we do to keep the attractive people here?"

I expect most cities the size of D_____ and its environs have the same problem - lots of good-looking youngsters, most of whom leave for bigger, better places or go to a college in a real place and never come back. I don't know where they actually end up, as they are not intrinsically more talented or whatever, but I would guess there are all sorts of secret enclaves where the attractive congregate.

So: how can D_____ make itself more attractive to the attractive? I don't care about jobs or crime, even. If the people having shootouts and slinging illegal drugs around or wandering aimlessly were just more appealing to the eye, the rest of it (jobs, etc) would fall into place! Not that I would get to stay - if there were a mandatory "must be THIS goodlooking to stay" sign/chart as at a roller-coaster line to measure height, I would be run out of town on a special "goblin train" (and why is there not one of these?).

Still, even from a great distance where my giant, misshapen noggin and I were banished, I could see the sheen on the horizon of my hometown and the Beautiful Ones who would reside there.
(image via the greatest [and, yes, most necessary] web site I've ever come across:

Astronauts at home

"More gin!"

(via HuffPo)

Monday, July 20, 2009

Nothing more rock than this

A cautionary tale

A friend was in eastern Kentucky and heard the following, perhaps apocryphal, tale regarding drug use in the wilds.

There were some jobs available in a coal mining facility.

400 applicants showed up.

10 (ten) passed the drug screening.

4 (four!) showed up on the first day of work.


So, Netherland, right? Look at the classy, prep-tastic cover.I bought it because I read it was about cricket. It's not - cricket plays a part and there is enough cricket jargon to cause head-scratching, yet not enough to make one care about cricket. So there's that.

The hero is a Dutchman living in New York during the current decade. After 9/11 his wife decamps with their son to her native England. Hans starts playing cricket a bit with some guys. Oh, shit, I'm already bored typing this. Anyway, he lives in the Chelsea hotel for no reason other than to give the blahness a splash o' color.

Look, I read the whole book and am too bored to talk any more about it. EXCEPT to say that the lead guy is very rich, so there's never any real debate as to whether he will overcome his Existential Malaise, and there are long dinner-partyesque segments making sure we know that The War in Iraq Was Wrong. In a very Ian McEwan Sunday kind of way. Annoying.

Also: one of the (lazy) blurbs on the back says something about "like The Great Gatsby, this novel blah blah--." I am hard-pressed to think of another look less Gatsby-ish. Maybe Ubik or The Thorn Birds or The Wonderful Trip to the Mushroom Planet. But otherwise, no.

Also 2: this was good - "There is a limit to what Americans understand about the English. And that limit is cricket."

Also, right after this I read Martin Amis's book of 9/11 (ish) essays, which was a rather bracing tonic to the fatuousness of Netherland. Full of things to chew over like this: more books are translated into Spanish in Spain each year than have been translated into Arabic in the last 1000 years.

Patriotic, yet badass

One of my co-workers is a wounded vet and went to a wounded vet thingy in Mexico a couple of weeks is the arrival of the keynote speaker:

Yes, the guy (who has two prosthetic legs!) just freakin' landed on the beach-placed podium, trailing a Purple Heart parachute behind him! Amazing!


Matt expresses his admiration for track 10 of the latest Pet Shop Boys record, via Cronkite memorial weekend posting:

This must be some sort of olive branch to Andrew Sullivan for something?

Friday, July 17, 2009

Party on, etc

Enjoy the weekend!

The American Breed

Don't know a thing about these, but this video hurts the mind:


Hey! Remember the rooster that was in front of our work building for a month? Went to live on my boss's farm?

Well, he thrives and such!

Thursday, July 16, 2009

This, vis a vis the new super Walmart in the area

"I walked in...I felt like I was in space, for one."

Did not know...

Alexander Hamilton was born in St. Croix and was an orphan!

Issey Miyake is a survivor of the Hiroshima bombing!

Zelda Fitzgerald (nee Sayre) died in a fire at the mental hospital where she was living!

She's SINGLE again!

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Marge and Picci - catching on!

Was out in the warehouse (yes, there is one!) here at work, looking for a screwdriver - and, there, on the Warehouse Guys' bench area was THIS!:

Yes, it's a tape measure with this PSB-riffic picture

attached to it with tape! And I had nothing to do with it!