bg/ish: Out With The Old...
i want to wish everyone a safe and happy new year. 2008 was pretty rugged at times, but like anything, there was of course good with the bad. at the very least, we attempted to get bg/ag publishing back online with varying results. i certainly hope to hit the ground running in 2009 with this site, so we'll see.
hopefully everyone has a chance to stop and reflect on the year that was, and although i don't encourage the folly of new year's resolutions it's still a good time to evaluate where you have been and where you are going.
it's winter now, so let's all huddle up to stay warm...
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Friday, December 12, 2008
bg/ish: "swimming in copper to smell and pretend like a robot!"
well, this friday turned out to be a little more hectic than i was hoping for as far as work is concerned, but really with the economy quickly morphing into an outhouse it's hard to complain about having work and getting paid, so i won't.
apparently something in my brain has instructed my body to consume as much caffeine as humanly possible in one day, perhaps to get myself back to my pre-food poisoning levels. i can't explain why else i've been sucking down Coke's today like it's nobody's business. i'd better stop immediately or i'll be awake until sunday.
at any rate, it's friday and so as promised i'm just going to drop a few links on you and disappear for the weekend. there's just one more thing though...
* * * * *
another fantasy football season has come and gone for me. well, technically, it's the second round of the playoffs, but as usual, my team has already "gone fishin", or in other words, i am suffering through the humiliation of yet another losing season. didn't even make the playoffs...
PLAYOFFS?!?! Don't talk about... PLAYOFFS?!?!?! You kiddin' me?!?!? PLAYOFFS?!?
so, here's a quick rundown of my fantasy football exploits over the years:
(W-L-T)
2008 - SF F.C. (5-8-0)
2006 - Planet Express (5-9-0)
2003 - Diabolica Invenzione (2-13-0)
2002 - Conquering Fools (5-9-0)
2001 - Tripping Billies (3-11-0)
thank the football gods that the equally as humiliating stats from 2000 are unavailable through Yahoo! anymore. as it stands, we're looking at a combined record of 20-50-0. i clearly lack a winning formula. in fact, the hiatus between 2003 and 2006 was strictly due to the sheer demoralization caused by the 2003 season. (although i did play an NFL.com league in 2004 and did quite well, no records exist of this so i cannot prove it.)
so ya, this season started with a lot of promise, 2 huge wins, and a false sense of accomplishment. now it's in the toilet along with our economy, my dignity and a host of other parasites and bacterial matter i've violently ejected from my body in recent days. meh.
my brother's team in the same league is still alive though, so i guess i'll be pulling for him to take it from those other chumps.
* * * * *
read about this group recently, Los Campesinos!, picked up their albums, and am finding them to be brilliant. well the first album at least. i haven't delved into the latest one yet.
so here's my YouTube link for the weekend... do with it what you will.
Death to Los Campesinos!
* * * * *
also, i wanted to pass along this game i read about on boingboing.net this week. it's called Minotaur China Shop, and seriously, if the name alone doesn't make you want to play, then what will? this screen cap perhaps?
* * * * *
alright kiddies, that's all i've got in me for today. have a safe weekend.
as usual, bg loves you and hates you just the same.
well, this friday turned out to be a little more hectic than i was hoping for as far as work is concerned, but really with the economy quickly morphing into an outhouse it's hard to complain about having work and getting paid, so i won't.
apparently something in my brain has instructed my body to consume as much caffeine as humanly possible in one day, perhaps to get myself back to my pre-food poisoning levels. i can't explain why else i've been sucking down Coke's today like it's nobody's business. i'd better stop immediately or i'll be awake until sunday.
at any rate, it's friday and so as promised i'm just going to drop a few links on you and disappear for the weekend. there's just one more thing though...
* * * * *
another fantasy football season has come and gone for me. well, technically, it's the second round of the playoffs, but as usual, my team has already "gone fishin", or in other words, i am suffering through the humiliation of yet another losing season. didn't even make the playoffs...
PLAYOFFS?!?! Don't talk about... PLAYOFFS?!?!?! You kiddin' me?!?!? PLAYOFFS?!?
so, here's a quick rundown of my fantasy football exploits over the years:
(W-L-T)
2008 - SF F.C. (5-8-0)
2006 - Planet Express (5-9-0)
2003 - Diabolica Invenzione (2-13-0)
2002 - Conquering Fools (5-9-0)
2001 - Tripping Billies (3-11-0)
thank the football gods that the equally as humiliating stats from 2000 are unavailable through Yahoo! anymore. as it stands, we're looking at a combined record of 20-50-0. i clearly lack a winning formula. in fact, the hiatus between 2003 and 2006 was strictly due to the sheer demoralization caused by the 2003 season. (although i did play an NFL.com league in 2004 and did quite well, no records exist of this so i cannot prove it.)
so ya, this season started with a lot of promise, 2 huge wins, and a false sense of accomplishment. now it's in the toilet along with our economy, my dignity and a host of other parasites and bacterial matter i've violently ejected from my body in recent days. meh.
my brother's team in the same league is still alive though, so i guess i'll be pulling for him to take it from those other chumps.
* * * * *
read about this group recently, Los Campesinos!, picked up their albums, and am finding them to be brilliant. well the first album at least. i haven't delved into the latest one yet.
so here's my YouTube link for the weekend... do with it what you will.
Death to Los Campesinos!
* * * * *
also, i wanted to pass along this game i read about on boingboing.net this week. it's called Minotaur China Shop, and seriously, if the name alone doesn't make you want to play, then what will? this screen cap perhaps?
* * * * *
alright kiddies, that's all i've got in me for today. have a safe weekend.
as usual, bg loves you and hates you just the same.
bg/ish: Bike Porn: Dual Aerospokes
i love fixed gear bikes. mmmmm. they say good things come in pairs...
thanks to the boys over at the southsea fixed gear fight club for this little gem.
i love fixed gear bikes. mmmmm. they say good things come in pairs...
thanks to the boys over at the southsea fixed gear fight club for this little gem.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
bg/ish: back among the living
it's been an interesting week. i'm pretty sure i started a post exactly the same way last week. oh well, this is a blog after all, can't put too much thought into swanky intros and pored over discourse. but i digress...
so i spent some time among the undead for a few days. at least that's certainly how i felt, and to some extent, how i currently look. i'd like to give a big shout out to Darla's Shitbox, er, Restaurant here in San Francisco for striking me down with the black death. i ate there this last sunday night and got a side order of food poisoning along with my triple cheeseburger. go figure.
food poisoning, apparently, is one of those conditions you may vastly underestimate the ruggedness of until it wines you, dines you, takes your pants off and goes all Zed from Pulp Fiction on your ass.
so today is really my first day back to eating solid food and moving amongst the living as if i were one of them. fools! do they not know that i feed only on the broth of chickens! muahahaha!
at any rate, i'm sure i browsed the web whilst in my zombie like state and saw some things worth passing along, but really, when your body is preoccupied with something as trivial as say, surviving the night, well, your "Internet Cool" filter becomes untrustworthy and at best an afterthought. so all the momentum i felt i'd built with last week's posts quickly ground to a halt and my bg/ag pub voice fell silent.
oh well, at least ag took a break from writing his book, "The Ways of Us Gays", long enough to drop some knowledge on the blog in that special way that only he can. relax, it's been too long since i've spewed any hate in ag's direction and really it's just my way of saying, "i miss ag/ish and you do too!" so there.
* * * * *
i find myself in these situations sometimes where you take a lease out on a friendship with someone only to find that what you thought was a handshake agreement becomes riddled with paperwork and conditions. wait, i'm losing myself here. what i'm trying to say is, people who only want to be your friend on their conditions and expectations kind of suck. it's when you fail to meet one of these conditions, these same childish folks then love to try and push your buttons in ways (passive-aggressive or not) that invite a response. but the response is really all they want.
it's laughable. seriously, it's motherfucking laughable.
it's also stupid and self-centered. it's like writing in your blog that you hate someone because they didn't show up to a party, or texting someone at 3 in the morning when you're shitty drunk. i'm pretty sure my boys AM said it best...
"And you can pour your heart out around three o'clock
When the 2 for 1's undone the writers block"
but hey, this is san francisco. and along with the high rent, the hipsters and the gays, you just gotta put up with the kids who have only recently left home for the first time and hit the ground running in a frenzy. eventually they will all tire themselves out.
(also, i'm only kidding about having to "put up with the gays". Prop 8 denies human rights!)
* * * * *
while i'm on the subject of beef, and i smell it cooking, i'd like to once again thank Darla's Restaurant here in san francisco for their triple cheeseburger of death and plague.
wait...
i had a whole other rant to go into regarding an entirely unrelated and yet totally related situation but the truth is i'm just not in the mood anymore.
it feels good to be getting back to full health, and with a renewal of body can come a renewal of mind so i'm just going to go to my happy place and get rested up for what should be a nice friday and a relaxing weekend. we'll try and dig up some "fridayish" vids or links or something tomorrow to get the mind right.
until then...
as usual, bg loves you and hates you just the same
it's been an interesting week. i'm pretty sure i started a post exactly the same way last week. oh well, this is a blog after all, can't put too much thought into swanky intros and pored over discourse. but i digress...
so i spent some time among the undead for a few days. at least that's certainly how i felt, and to some extent, how i currently look. i'd like to give a big shout out to Darla's Shitbox, er, Restaurant here in San Francisco for striking me down with the black death. i ate there this last sunday night and got a side order of food poisoning along with my triple cheeseburger. go figure.
food poisoning, apparently, is one of those conditions you may vastly underestimate the ruggedness of until it wines you, dines you, takes your pants off and goes all Zed from Pulp Fiction on your ass.
so today is really my first day back to eating solid food and moving amongst the living as if i were one of them. fools! do they not know that i feed only on the broth of chickens! muahahaha!
at any rate, i'm sure i browsed the web whilst in my zombie like state and saw some things worth passing along, but really, when your body is preoccupied with something as trivial as say, surviving the night, well, your "Internet Cool" filter becomes untrustworthy and at best an afterthought. so all the momentum i felt i'd built with last week's posts quickly ground to a halt and my bg/ag pub voice fell silent.
oh well, at least ag took a break from writing his book, "The Ways of Us Gays", long enough to drop some knowledge on the blog in that special way that only he can. relax, it's been too long since i've spewed any hate in ag's direction and really it's just my way of saying, "i miss ag/ish and you do too!" so there.
* * * * *
i find myself in these situations sometimes where you take a lease out on a friendship with someone only to find that what you thought was a handshake agreement becomes riddled with paperwork and conditions. wait, i'm losing myself here. what i'm trying to say is, people who only want to be your friend on their conditions and expectations kind of suck. it's when you fail to meet one of these conditions, these same childish folks then love to try and push your buttons in ways (passive-aggressive or not) that invite a response. but the response is really all they want.
it's laughable. seriously, it's motherfucking laughable.
it's also stupid and self-centered. it's like writing in your blog that you hate someone because they didn't show up to a party, or texting someone at 3 in the morning when you're shitty drunk. i'm pretty sure my boys AM said it best...
"And you can pour your heart out around three o'clock
When the 2 for 1's undone the writers block"
but hey, this is san francisco. and along with the high rent, the hipsters and the gays, you just gotta put up with the kids who have only recently left home for the first time and hit the ground running in a frenzy. eventually they will all tire themselves out.
(also, i'm only kidding about having to "put up with the gays". Prop 8 denies human rights!)
* * * * *
while i'm on the subject of beef, and i smell it cooking, i'd like to once again thank Darla's Restaurant here in san francisco for their triple cheeseburger of death and plague.
wait...
i had a whole other rant to go into regarding an entirely unrelated and yet totally related situation but the truth is i'm just not in the mood anymore.
it feels good to be getting back to full health, and with a renewal of body can come a renewal of mind so i'm just going to go to my happy place and get rested up for what should be a nice friday and a relaxing weekend. we'll try and dig up some "fridayish" vids or links or something tomorrow to get the mind right.
until then...
as usual, bg loves you and hates you just the same
Friday, December 05, 2008
agIsh: WhoWhatWhenWhereWhy?
Who?
There is no "who"! There never will a "who"! The last time I thought there was a "who" my heart got ripped out! In fact, you can pretty much track me via my bleeding heart since 2006! And of course my writing off of the female species is all due to fear! Who wouldn't want a nice, warm ass to wake up to every morning? But at what cost?! I digress...I'm wearing out my "!/1" key.
What?
School and archery that's what. That's all I think about these days. I have one week left before finals and I'm burning out man. I'm burning out at an exponential rate. Because of the periodic pop quizzes I'm in a constant "state of cat-like readiness". On the other hand, because of the pop quizzes my inherent laziness doesn't have a chance to kick in and cause me to fall behind. *shrug*
As for archery, which had brought me so much joy in recent months, has been a source of anxiety in my life. I think I'm going through a mental block; I can't shoot straight. Alright, alright...get the nasty sex jokes out of your system. Can we grow up now? What, are you in the third grade or something? Anyway, as with all things, the physical is preceded by the mental - if you think it is so, you will do so. Problem is I'm not thinking so. I have no idea how to get over it. It seems as though the more I practice to overcome it the deeper I get into it. It's a deadly, vicious, pummeling cycle. We have a competition in mid-January and I have a little over a month to become badass. Let's hope for the best.
When?
That's a good question. Although I'm enjoying all these things I do, I'm not really living for today. My life is really quite stagnant; nothing to speak of really. I've convinced myself that I'm investing in my future, that when this is all done with I'll start living my life. Wouldn't it suck if I finish my "preparations" and find zero meaning in anything? At that point, I may have to pack up and randomly relocate and hopefully some meaning finds me.
Where?
Here. I kind of like where I am. It's hard to say if it's genuine "like" or just complacency, however. I know if I drive a couple hours in any direction I could get away from it all. But like I said, I have things to do before I actually do any of that. You gotta understand: I'm old. I look at it as a make-it-or-break-it point. I'm young enough that I can find something and pursue it fully but old enough that I can't really afford to eff around anymore. So I'm doing what I need to do before I get to do what I want to do. So, this is where I'm staying for the next couple of years.
Why?
So that my life can start, man! As fun as school has been (it beats working) I don't want to have school be the excuse anymore. I'm both excited to get it behind me and afraid that it may be like suddenly pulling away crutches. But "sometimes you just gotta race", Chappelle says. No one truly knows what's going to happen until it does. Sometimes you just gotta push forward while trying your best. Sometimes you just gotta decide that "something else is more important than fear."
nv@ag
Who?
There is no "who"! There never will a "who"! The last time I thought there was a "who" my heart got ripped out! In fact, you can pretty much track me via my bleeding heart since 2006! And of course my writing off of the female species is all due to fear! Who wouldn't want a nice, warm ass to wake up to every morning? But at what cost?! I digress...I'm wearing out my "!/1" key.
What?
School and archery that's what. That's all I think about these days. I have one week left before finals and I'm burning out man. I'm burning out at an exponential rate. Because of the periodic pop quizzes I'm in a constant "state of cat-like readiness". On the other hand, because of the pop quizzes my inherent laziness doesn't have a chance to kick in and cause me to fall behind. *shrug*
As for archery, which had brought me so much joy in recent months, has been a source of anxiety in my life. I think I'm going through a mental block; I can't shoot straight. Alright, alright...get the nasty sex jokes out of your system. Can we grow up now? What, are you in the third grade or something? Anyway, as with all things, the physical is preceded by the mental - if you think it is so, you will do so. Problem is I'm not thinking so. I have no idea how to get over it. It seems as though the more I practice to overcome it the deeper I get into it. It's a deadly, vicious, pummeling cycle. We have a competition in mid-January and I have a little over a month to become badass. Let's hope for the best.
When?
That's a good question. Although I'm enjoying all these things I do, I'm not really living for today. My life is really quite stagnant; nothing to speak of really. I've convinced myself that I'm investing in my future, that when this is all done with I'll start living my life. Wouldn't it suck if I finish my "preparations" and find zero meaning in anything? At that point, I may have to pack up and randomly relocate and hopefully some meaning finds me.
Where?
Here. I kind of like where I am. It's hard to say if it's genuine "like" or just complacency, however. I know if I drive a couple hours in any direction I could get away from it all. But like I said, I have things to do before I actually do any of that. You gotta understand: I'm old. I look at it as a make-it-or-break-it point. I'm young enough that I can find something and pursue it fully but old enough that I can't really afford to eff around anymore. So I'm doing what I need to do before I get to do what I want to do. So, this is where I'm staying for the next couple of years.
Why?
So that my life can start, man! As fun as school has been (it beats working) I don't want to have school be the excuse anymore. I'm both excited to get it behind me and afraid that it may be like suddenly pulling away crutches. But "sometimes you just gotta race", Chappelle says. No one truly knows what's going to happen until it does. Sometimes you just gotta push forward while trying your best. Sometimes you just gotta decide that "something else is more important than fear."
nv@ag
bg/ish: Meeting Sasha
It's been an interesting week to say the least. Some ups, some downs. "A lot of ins, a lot of outs, a lot of what-have-you's, a lot of strands to keep in my head, man. Lot of strands in old Duder's head." At any rate, I thought I'd end this week on a more personal note. My life changed for the better yesterday, and I feel compelled to share.
Quick back story - A little over 10 years ago I had somewhat of a falling out with certain members of my extended family, so there are some aunts, uncles and cousins of mine that I either haven't seen in over 10 years or have never met at all. Yesterday I met Sasha, my 11 year old cousin, for the first time.
Sasha was born with Spinal Meningitis. She has been in a wheelchair her entire life, and will never walk. A heavy burden for a child to bear under any circumstances. I'd heard stories of her resilience, courage and maturity from other members of the family. "An amazing little girl", they would say. Now I know from experience, they were right.
Sasha's body has developed in such a way that her spinal cord and ribcage are essentially crushing her lungs. It was determined that she would need either an entire titanium rod fused to her spine or individual titanium pieces fused in between several vertebrae in an effort to straighten it out and alleviate the pressure on her lungs. She was brought from Sacramento to the UCSF Children's Hospital here in San Francisco for the operation.
Several family members came into the city to support her and her parents and siblings, my mother included. I had planned on stopping by the hospital after work and checking in on the family, but around 2 o'clock I received a phone call from her brother, my cousin Christian.
"How come you're not here?", he asked.
"I'm at work, but I'll come by when I get off".
"Hold on", he said, "Sasha wants to talk to you."
I was all at once nervous and excited, unsure of what to expect from a child who was facing such a major surgical procedure.
"Hi!", she said, "I've never met you!"
"I know, but you sound lovely." And she truly did.
She thanked me and we went on to talk for a few minutes about how much she was enjoying a book she was reading in the waiting area. My mother had found an old Shel Silverstein book that my late grandmother had given to me as a child. She brought it with her to give to me, but had let Sasha read it while she was waiting to go into surgery.
Then she asked me if she could possibly meet me before she went into surgery. They were scheduled to take her in at 2:45. I looked at the time, it was 2 o'clock.
"Yes", I said without hesitation.
I left work and rode like hell across the city. When I reached the hospital, I saw my mother and sister-in-law waiting outside the main lobby. We said our hellos and I went inside to meet Sasha.
She is an amazing little girl. Her courage was more than evident, her confidence and joy were infectious. You would have never guessed she was facing such a serious, painful procedure. She started right in with the questions...
"How tall are you?"
"What size is your shoe?"
"Why is your hair like that?"
She tried to return the book.
"Sasha, that book is yours" I said. She clutched it to her body and was genuinely excited.
Before they wheeled her upstairs to surgery she asked, "Do you want to take a picture?"
Of course I did.
And that is how I met Sasha, one of the strongest, most inspirational, and beautiful girls I have ever met in my life.
Today, she is recovering in the hospital with her family at her side.
I can't wait to go and visit.
dw.bg
It's been an interesting week to say the least. Some ups, some downs. "A lot of ins, a lot of outs, a lot of what-have-you's, a lot of strands to keep in my head, man. Lot of strands in old Duder's head." At any rate, I thought I'd end this week on a more personal note. My life changed for the better yesterday, and I feel compelled to share.
Quick back story - A little over 10 years ago I had somewhat of a falling out with certain members of my extended family, so there are some aunts, uncles and cousins of mine that I either haven't seen in over 10 years or have never met at all. Yesterday I met Sasha, my 11 year old cousin, for the first time.
Sasha was born with Spinal Meningitis. She has been in a wheelchair her entire life, and will never walk. A heavy burden for a child to bear under any circumstances. I'd heard stories of her resilience, courage and maturity from other members of the family. "An amazing little girl", they would say. Now I know from experience, they were right.
Sasha's body has developed in such a way that her spinal cord and ribcage are essentially crushing her lungs. It was determined that she would need either an entire titanium rod fused to her spine or individual titanium pieces fused in between several vertebrae in an effort to straighten it out and alleviate the pressure on her lungs. She was brought from Sacramento to the UCSF Children's Hospital here in San Francisco for the operation.
Several family members came into the city to support her and her parents and siblings, my mother included. I had planned on stopping by the hospital after work and checking in on the family, but around 2 o'clock I received a phone call from her brother, my cousin Christian.
"How come you're not here?", he asked.
"I'm at work, but I'll come by when I get off".
"Hold on", he said, "Sasha wants to talk to you."
I was all at once nervous and excited, unsure of what to expect from a child who was facing such a major surgical procedure.
"Hi!", she said, "I've never met you!"
"I know, but you sound lovely." And she truly did.
She thanked me and we went on to talk for a few minutes about how much she was enjoying a book she was reading in the waiting area. My mother had found an old Shel Silverstein book that my late grandmother had given to me as a child. She brought it with her to give to me, but had let Sasha read it while she was waiting to go into surgery.
Then she asked me if she could possibly meet me before she went into surgery. They were scheduled to take her in at 2:45. I looked at the time, it was 2 o'clock.
"Yes", I said without hesitation.
I left work and rode like hell across the city. When I reached the hospital, I saw my mother and sister-in-law waiting outside the main lobby. We said our hellos and I went inside to meet Sasha.
She is an amazing little girl. Her courage was more than evident, her confidence and joy were infectious. You would have never guessed she was facing such a serious, painful procedure. She started right in with the questions...
"How tall are you?"
"What size is your shoe?"
"Why is your hair like that?"
She tried to return the book.
"Sasha, that book is yours" I said. She clutched it to her body and was genuinely excited.
Before they wheeled her upstairs to surgery she asked, "Do you want to take a picture?"
Of course I did.
And that is how I met Sasha, one of the strongest, most inspirational, and beautiful girls I have ever met in my life.
Today, she is recovering in the hospital with her family at her side.
I can't wait to go and visit.
dw.bg
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
bg/ish: Claymation Craziness
I'll be the first to admit that I've been in somewhat of a foul mood recently. Going on several weeks now. I'll save those gory details for another post, perhaps a marathon post where I unleash my anger on the world and those in it who are causing me distress. In fact, that post almost has to happen, lest I go insane. But I digress...
Clearly over the last couple days I've basically been aping boingboing.net for worthwhile posts. So what. Hah. I stumbled upon this there and had to pass it on because in these days of distress it made me incredibly happy. :D See. That's a smiley fo' sho.
Eh. Enjoy.
I'll be the first to admit that I've been in somewhat of a foul mood recently. Going on several weeks now. I'll save those gory details for another post, perhaps a marathon post where I unleash my anger on the world and those in it who are causing me distress. In fact, that post almost has to happen, lest I go insane. But I digress...
Clearly over the last couple days I've basically been aping boingboing.net for worthwhile posts. So what. Hah. I stumbled upon this there and had to pass it on because in these days of distress it made me incredibly happy. :D See. That's a smiley fo' sho.
Eh. Enjoy.
bg/ish: I Made This. You Play This. We Are Enemies
Good lord. Sometimes even I can't figure out why certain things hold my attention for more than 5 minutes. Take this game, "i made this. you play this. we are enemies" for example. It's described by it's creator as "an artwork/game/digital poem/world of scribbles and ideas from the back of my brain, way-way back in a storage room for contextual whims."
Um... OK.
Just play it.
Good lord. Sometimes even I can't figure out why certain things hold my attention for more than 5 minutes. Take this game, "i made this. you play this. we are enemies" for example. It's described by it's creator as "an artwork/game/digital poem/world of scribbles and ideas from the back of my brain, way-way back in a storage room for contextual whims."
Um... OK.
Just play it.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
bg/ish: The Tilt-Shift Work of Keith Loutit
I first read about tilt-shift photography and using it to fake shots of miniatures a couple years ago from this boingboing.net post. You can also find a fairly technical explanation on how the technique works here.
Some filmmakers have been combining tilt-shift videography with time lapse effects to create some really superb short films. boingboing.net featured this one called Metal Heart by Keith Loutit a couple days ago, and seriously, what is there not to like about this?
Metal Heart from Keith Loutit on Vimeo.
I first read about tilt-shift photography and using it to fake shots of miniatures a couple years ago from this boingboing.net post. You can also find a fairly technical explanation on how the technique works here.
Some filmmakers have been combining tilt-shift videography with time lapse effects to create some really superb short films. boingboing.net featured this one called Metal Heart by Keith Loutit a couple days ago, and seriously, what is there not to like about this?
Metal Heart from Keith Loutit on Vimeo.
Monday, December 01, 2008
bg/ish: "Passing Time, Got To Get Outside The City"
Used to be one of my favorite songs to play on a road trip was "Happy Alone" by Kings of Leon. So, as I set off yesterday on what was supposed to be a routine bike ride I had the tune running through my head once again. Unfortunately it wasn't on my iPod. But that is neither here nor there.
For the past 4 months or so, I've been riding a bike around San Francisco, and it's quickly become an addiction. But that's for another post. Recently I've been on a few rides with some friends, and yesterday was to be our most ambitious journey yet.
The plan was to roll out from the Mission, go through the park, across the Golden Gate bridge, descend down into Sausalito, and head into Tiburon, where we would eat at Sam's Cafe and have a few beers and take the last ferry across the water and back to The City. By car this is about a 17 mile trip one way, but going by bike is not nearly as direct a route, so it's probably closer to 20.
View Larger Map
Everything went according to plan until the "take the last ferry across the water" part. But I'll get to that in a minute.
It was really a gorgeous day yesterday, hotter than it should be for this time of year. The ride out of The City through Golden Gate park was easy and relaxing. We got across the bridge with little trouble and took our first real break of the day. I got the best pictures I could of the bridge with the crappy camera I'm currently limited to using. We got going again and breezed into Saulsalito and after a brief detour (got lost) into Tiburon.
We were greeted in Tiburon by an 8 year old girl and her father selling lemonade for 50 cents a cup. This was clearly a deal we could not pass up! After refueling on lemonade we made our way down by the docks, sat by the water for a bit and then made our way to Sam's Cafe for food and drinks.
We had finished by 4:30 but the last ferry didn't leave until 6:20, so we had some time to kill. We walked around town for a while and finally settled on sitting at a coffee shop for a while. At 6 p.m. we returned to the ferry dock to unlock our bikes and have a quick smoke before the boat arrived.
Only the boat never arrived.
Turns out that 6:20 boat doesn't run on Sunday's. There's not a lot you can say when you realize you're stuck 20 miles from home after sundown with only your bike to get you back. A cab was out of the question (4 dudes with 4 bikes) and none of us were familiar enough with the Golden Gate Transit system enough to put a plan together that would have got us back by bus. Even then the chances of the bus having room for 4 bikes were not good.
It had taken us nearly 3 hours to get to Tiburon, and a big part of that was a pretty big descent into Saulsalito, which meant that there was a BIG hill to climb to get back up to the bridge. We knew what we had to do, and although not a single one of us was looking forward to it...
We rode.
We also managed to get lost. Thanks to some kind local residents and Jericho's iPhone equipped with GPS we managed to get back on track. We finally reached the Golden Gate bridge, only to find it closed. Well, sort of. Turns out bikes can go across after hours. We pushed this red button, and after a moment or two the gate opened up and we were off.
It was one of those weird rewards you don't expect, and after a long day and plenty of mishaps the 4 of us having the pathway on the Golden Gate bridge to ourselves on a clear night was something pretty amazing.
Needless to say, we made it home OK (well 3 of us for sure, you OK Brian?). The pain in my legs today is fairly intense, but when it was time to go to work this morning, I weighed my options and couldn't resist. I rode.
* * * * * *
Used to be one of my favorite songs to play on a road trip was "Happy Alone" by Kings of Leon. So, as I set off yesterday on what was supposed to be a routine bike ride I had the tune running through my head once again. Unfortunately it wasn't on my iPod. But that is neither here nor there.
For the past 4 months or so, I've been riding a bike around San Francisco, and it's quickly become an addiction. But that's for another post. Recently I've been on a few rides with some friends, and yesterday was to be our most ambitious journey yet.
The plan was to roll out from the Mission, go through the park, across the Golden Gate bridge, descend down into Sausalito, and head into Tiburon, where we would eat at Sam's Cafe and have a few beers and take the last ferry across the water and back to The City. By car this is about a 17 mile trip one way, but going by bike is not nearly as direct a route, so it's probably closer to 20.
View Larger Map
Everything went according to plan until the "take the last ferry across the water" part. But I'll get to that in a minute.
It was really a gorgeous day yesterday, hotter than it should be for this time of year. The ride out of The City through Golden Gate park was easy and relaxing. We got across the bridge with little trouble and took our first real break of the day. I got the best pictures I could of the bridge with the crappy camera I'm currently limited to using. We got going again and breezed into Saulsalito and after a brief detour (got lost) into Tiburon.
We were greeted in Tiburon by an 8 year old girl and her father selling lemonade for 50 cents a cup. This was clearly a deal we could not pass up! After refueling on lemonade we made our way down by the docks, sat by the water for a bit and then made our way to Sam's Cafe for food and drinks.
We had finished by 4:30 but the last ferry didn't leave until 6:20, so we had some time to kill. We walked around town for a while and finally settled on sitting at a coffee shop for a while. At 6 p.m. we returned to the ferry dock to unlock our bikes and have a quick smoke before the boat arrived.
Only the boat never arrived.
Turns out that 6:20 boat doesn't run on Sunday's. There's not a lot you can say when you realize you're stuck 20 miles from home after sundown with only your bike to get you back. A cab was out of the question (4 dudes with 4 bikes) and none of us were familiar enough with the Golden Gate Transit system enough to put a plan together that would have got us back by bus. Even then the chances of the bus having room for 4 bikes were not good.
It had taken us nearly 3 hours to get to Tiburon, and a big part of that was a pretty big descent into Saulsalito, which meant that there was a BIG hill to climb to get back up to the bridge. We knew what we had to do, and although not a single one of us was looking forward to it...
We rode.
We also managed to get lost. Thanks to some kind local residents and Jericho's iPhone equipped with GPS we managed to get back on track. We finally reached the Golden Gate bridge, only to find it closed. Well, sort of. Turns out bikes can go across after hours. We pushed this red button, and after a moment or two the gate opened up and we were off.
It was one of those weird rewards you don't expect, and after a long day and plenty of mishaps the 4 of us having the pathway on the Golden Gate bridge to ourselves on a clear night was something pretty amazing.
Needless to say, we made it home OK (well 3 of us for sure, you OK Brian?). The pain in my legs today is fairly intense, but when it was time to go to work this morning, I weighed my options and couldn't resist. I rode.
* * * * * *
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
bg/ish: "I'm from the Old School. I believe this..."
There was a time when I expected to be filling this blog with posts about my beloved San Francisco 49ers. Had a catchy tag line and err'thang. Had a logo in the works. Go 'head wif yo bad self. Never happened. Just too depressing a situation. "Can't do it!"
Then, on September 2nd of this year, I posted the following on this blog...
"Speaking of these so-called "49ers", let's all give thanks for the final year of the Mike Nolan Era. Really, it was fun Mike, but thanks for coming. Don't get me wrong, I loved your resume, your defensive pedigree, and the suits were a class touch. However, it seems you're supposed to be winning football games and well when it comes to that you just don't seem to have any freakin' clue. Now go, good riddance."
Harsh words? Perhaps.
Then, on October 21 of this year, the 49ers sent Nolan packing, officially ending the Mike Nolan Era, whose demise I'd clearly predicted several weeks before. But this isn't about me. No, it's about what followed...
The Mike Singletary Era.
I choose to write about it now because, much like the lifespan of a monarch butterfly, it should be over in a matter of weeks. It may be inept and painful to watch, but hey, at least it hasn't been boring!
Already "coach" Singletary has benched the starting quarterback, sent a player (Vernon Davis) to the showers during a game, dropped trou at half-time during a "motivational" speech to his players, and managed the clock at the end of a game so poorly he makes Art Shell and Andy Reid jealous. Oh and he's also given us some utterly strange press conferences...
At any rate, I'm pretty much disgusted with the current state of this team, so this will probably be the last time I write about it until the Mike Singletary Era officially ends. Anybody have Bill Cowher's cell number?
Oh and as for this Vernon Davis clown...
dw.bg
There was a time when I expected to be filling this blog with posts about my beloved San Francisco 49ers. Had a catchy tag line and err'thang. Had a logo in the works. Go 'head wif yo bad self. Never happened. Just too depressing a situation. "Can't do it!"
Then, on September 2nd of this year, I posted the following on this blog...
"Speaking of these so-called "49ers", let's all give thanks for the final year of the Mike Nolan Era. Really, it was fun Mike, but thanks for coming. Don't get me wrong, I loved your resume, your defensive pedigree, and the suits were a class touch. However, it seems you're supposed to be winning football games and well when it comes to that you just don't seem to have any freakin' clue. Now go, good riddance."
Harsh words? Perhaps.
Then, on October 21 of this year, the 49ers sent Nolan packing, officially ending the Mike Nolan Era, whose demise I'd clearly predicted several weeks before. But this isn't about me. No, it's about what followed...
The Mike Singletary Era.
I choose to write about it now because, much like the lifespan of a monarch butterfly, it should be over in a matter of weeks. It may be inept and painful to watch, but hey, at least it hasn't been boring!
Already "coach" Singletary has benched the starting quarterback, sent a player (Vernon Davis) to the showers during a game, dropped trou at half-time during a "motivational" speech to his players, and managed the clock at the end of a game so poorly he makes Art Shell and Andy Reid jealous. Oh and he's also given us some utterly strange press conferences...
At any rate, I'm pretty much disgusted with the current state of this team, so this will probably be the last time I write about it until the Mike Singletary Era officially ends. Anybody have Bill Cowher's cell number?
Oh and as for this Vernon Davis clown...
dw.bg
bg/ish: Unboxing a Dell Mini 9
We here at tha Pub have always been prone to geeking out over the latest and greatest technology. Hell, ag was around when I installed my first 56k modem and marveled at how much faster I could download porn. Clearly we've come a long way since those days of archaic porn access. Now you can get it on your cell phone! But I digress...
The Dell Mini 9 is not much larger than say, an iPhone, and it's technical specs are nothing to be amazed at, (1.60 GHz Intel Atom processor, 1GB RAM, 16GB hard drive) but hey it's small, so it must be cool, and easy and convenient. Well, not exactly.
I'm really not too impressed with this little devil. It looks great, screen is nice and crisp, and I'm sure it will serve it's purpose well (business trips), however the keyboard is a bit of a chore to adjust to, and as hard as I try I just can't see what's so great about a 9" display. Meh.
Another peeve I have is that I could only order it with Windows XP Home, when Professional would have been much preferred.
Oh well. At any rate, here are some pics of the little bugger, hand cramps be damned. (You'll have to imagine your own "new car smell")
We here at tha Pub have always been prone to geeking out over the latest and greatest technology. Hell, ag was around when I installed my first 56k modem and marveled at how much faster I could download porn. Clearly we've come a long way since those days of archaic porn access. Now you can get it on your cell phone! But I digress...
The Dell Mini 9 is not much larger than say, an iPhone, and it's technical specs are nothing to be amazed at, (1.60 GHz Intel Atom processor, 1GB RAM, 16GB hard drive) but hey it's small, so it must be cool, and easy and convenient. Well, not exactly.
I'm really not too impressed with this little devil. It looks great, screen is nice and crisp, and I'm sure it will serve it's purpose well (business trips), however the keyboard is a bit of a chore to adjust to, and as hard as I try I just can't see what's so great about a 9" display. Meh.
Another peeve I have is that I could only order it with Windows XP Home, when Professional would have been much preferred.
Oh well. At any rate, here are some pics of the little bugger, hand cramps be damned. (You'll have to imagine your own "new car smell")
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Monday, November 03, 2008
bg/ish: Heavy Rain In The Forecast, Must Mean A.P.E. Is In Town...
Those of you who were familiar with the previous bg/ag publishing website might remember a crazy roadtrip ag and I took to San Francisco to cover the Alternative Press Expo, otherwise known as A.P.E. It was a trip that pushed the limits of human endurance and was dominated by a heavy downpour of rain. I don't think we could have planned that trip more poorly than we did, however, our deficient preparation and the ensuing results is what gave that trip it's character, and in the end it was a mild success.
Some years later, now calling San Francisco home, I found myself waiting in line to purchase a bagel, thumbing through one of the free Comic-Con magazines stacked in the corner of the shop, and stumbling upon an ad for A.P.E. 2008. I checked the forecast, and of course, heavy rain was on the horizon...
* * * * *
I made my way down to A.P.E. this past Sunday afternoon, feeling "the buzz" as soon as I had locked my bike up and started walking towards the entrance. I lingered around the entrance for a few minutes and the sun broke through the clouds long enough for me to snap a photo of the sign. A few minutes later, a guy walked out of the show, took off his badge, and hung it on a small post I happened to be loitering near. I watched him walk off, cross the street, and disappear down the block. Seizing the opportunity to save $10, I quickly grabbed the badge, put it around my neck, and decided to test the validity of my new found credentials. I breezed through security and hit the convention with a hop in my step and 10 extra buggs in my pocket.
I honestly did not know what to expect from A.P.E. this time around. Admittedly, part of me was skeptical and unsure if my foray to the show would amount to nothing more than a wasted Sunday afternoon. However, I must say, A.P.E. was brilliant.
I quickly realized that A.P.E. had become all the things I loved about the Comic-Con/WonderCon experience, without all the things I hate about those experiences, namely, big crowds and the hoopla perpetuated by the big companies. The size of the convention has maybe doubled since the fateful trip ag and I took, which amounted to about 3 hours of "rounds", at an easy pace, several times through all the exhibitors.
It's refreshing to see, even at the Independent level, so much talent and creativity gathered under one roof. It's also quite inspiring. Talking to people who have put so much hard work into their creative ideas and visions, it's hard not to feel "the vibe" and wonder to yourself, "What have I done lately?"
Overall, I'd call A.P.E. 2008 a wild success (at least for me), it certainly got me back into that "Con" mode for an afternoon and got me looking forward to WonderCon coming in February 2009. Oh and of course I ended up with a bit of swag, even on my limited budget.
Since A.P.E. is really all about the talent, I'll leave you with some links to some of the artists, writers and work that impressed me from the show.
Egg
The art of Jason Dryg
bacon.cheesecake
Ping's Zoo
The artwork of Brigette B.
Shannon Freshwater
2D Cloud
The Bill Holbrook Store
Zero Friends
The Bunny System
Tugboat Press
Thanks again to all the great exhibitors at A.P.E. 2008! As usual, bg loves you and hates you just the same.
dw.bg
UPDATE: LaughingSquid.com's APE 2008 Photoset on Flickr
Those of you who were familiar with the previous bg/ag publishing website might remember a crazy roadtrip ag and I took to San Francisco to cover the Alternative Press Expo, otherwise known as A.P.E. It was a trip that pushed the limits of human endurance and was dominated by a heavy downpour of rain. I don't think we could have planned that trip more poorly than we did, however, our deficient preparation and the ensuing results is what gave that trip it's character, and in the end it was a mild success.
Some years later, now calling San Francisco home, I found myself waiting in line to purchase a bagel, thumbing through one of the free Comic-Con magazines stacked in the corner of the shop, and stumbling upon an ad for A.P.E. 2008. I checked the forecast, and of course, heavy rain was on the horizon...
* * * * *
I made my way down to A.P.E. this past Sunday afternoon, feeling "the buzz" as soon as I had locked my bike up and started walking towards the entrance. I lingered around the entrance for a few minutes and the sun broke through the clouds long enough for me to snap a photo of the sign. A few minutes later, a guy walked out of the show, took off his badge, and hung it on a small post I happened to be loitering near. I watched him walk off, cross the street, and disappear down the block. Seizing the opportunity to save $10, I quickly grabbed the badge, put it around my neck, and decided to test the validity of my new found credentials. I breezed through security and hit the convention with a hop in my step and 10 extra buggs in my pocket.
I honestly did not know what to expect from A.P.E. this time around. Admittedly, part of me was skeptical and unsure if my foray to the show would amount to nothing more than a wasted Sunday afternoon. However, I must say, A.P.E. was brilliant.
I quickly realized that A.P.E. had become all the things I loved about the Comic-Con/WonderCon experience, without all the things I hate about those experiences, namely, big crowds and the hoopla perpetuated by the big companies. The size of the convention has maybe doubled since the fateful trip ag and I took, which amounted to about 3 hours of "rounds", at an easy pace, several times through all the exhibitors.
It's refreshing to see, even at the Independent level, so much talent and creativity gathered under one roof. It's also quite inspiring. Talking to people who have put so much hard work into their creative ideas and visions, it's hard not to feel "the vibe" and wonder to yourself, "What have I done lately?"
Overall, I'd call A.P.E. 2008 a wild success (at least for me), it certainly got me back into that "Con" mode for an afternoon and got me looking forward to WonderCon coming in February 2009. Oh and of course I ended up with a bit of swag, even on my limited budget.
Since A.P.E. is really all about the talent, I'll leave you with some links to some of the artists, writers and work that impressed me from the show.
Egg
The art of Jason Dryg
bacon.cheesecake
Ping's Zoo
The artwork of Brigette B.
Shannon Freshwater
2D Cloud
The Bill Holbrook Store
Zero Friends
The Bunny System
Tugboat Press
Thanks again to all the great exhibitors at A.P.E. 2008! As usual, bg loves you and hates you just the same.
dw.bg
UPDATE: LaughingSquid.com's APE 2008 Photoset on Flickr
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
agIsh: Home Sweet Home...
This shit is sick. At least have the decency to attack someone who's able to put up a little fight and who has more than a couple of bucks, tissues, and bus pass in her purse! In cases like this I totally endorse "shoot-on-sight". Fuck 'em. They're gonna grow up to be gansters. At least one of them is gonna shoot and/or kill someone. Both of them are gonna get some chick pregnant within the next five years.
Don't question me! This is based on the fact that this incident occurred at 10:49 in the morning on a Monday. Hello! You should be in school and lunch isn't for another hour. Fortunately, they were caught and put in juvie. Unfortunately, now they have something to brag about.
Since we're on the subject, I've wanted to perform the PIT Maneuver more than once this week. Yes, I realize it's only Monday.
nv@ag
Police have arrested two teenage boys on suspicion of robbing an 87-year-old Fountain Valley woman this morning as she was walking to catch a bus.
...
Two teenage boys walking in the opposite direction blocked the woman by stepping in her way and then verbally harassed her. After the teenagers allowed her to pass, they knocked her to the sidewalk. One suspect ripped her purse away from her. [Full Story]
This shit is sick. At least have the decency to attack someone who's able to put up a little fight and who has more than a couple of bucks, tissues, and bus pass in her purse! In cases like this I totally endorse "shoot-on-sight". Fuck 'em. They're gonna grow up to be gansters. At least one of them is gonna shoot and/or kill someone. Both of them are gonna get some chick pregnant within the next five years.
Don't question me! This is based on the fact that this incident occurred at 10:49 in the morning on a Monday. Hello! You should be in school and lunch isn't for another hour. Fortunately, they were caught and put in juvie. Unfortunately, now they have something to brag about.
Since we're on the subject, I've wanted to perform the PIT Maneuver more than once this week. Yes, I realize it's only Monday.
nv@ag
Friday, September 26, 2008
bg/ish: Yam, Bam, Thank You Ma'am!
File this under "Inexplicable". So I work at this little all-natural pet food store a couple nights a week. We make our own raw meat food for dogs and cats, and yams are one of our main ingredients. So, this just left me baffled...
So... why exactly is this yam wearing a groovy hat and sunglasses? And why is he smoking?!? How is that appealing for a yam!?! Why is "jumbo" in quotes!?! What are the implications here?!? Why does this bother me so much!? Why is the damn yam smoking!?!?! Yargh!...
* faint *
...
dw.bg
File this under "Inexplicable". So I work at this little all-natural pet food store a couple nights a week. We make our own raw meat food for dogs and cats, and yams are one of our main ingredients. So, this just left me baffled...
So... why exactly is this yam wearing a groovy hat and sunglasses? And why is he smoking?!? How is that appealing for a yam!?! Why is "jumbo" in quotes!?! What are the implications here?!? Why does this bother me so much!? Why is the damn yam smoking!?!?! Yargh!...
* faint *
...
dw.bg
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
bg/ish: Out In The Streets, They Call It Murder
Some nights, time seems to stand still here in The City. This can be a good thing or a bad thing depending on the circumstances. For instance, if you're trying to get some sleep while the crackheads who live on the sidewalk outside your bedroom window are up freaking out all night, well, you're in for a long night. I'm not talking about that kind of night at the moment though. I'm talking about the kind of night where you've got a few beers down the hatch, the blunts have left your eyes slanted like ag's, one of your crew passes out muttering something about not being able to "taste my teeth", and you look at your celly and realize it's not quite 10 p.m. You might crack a grin cuz you know you've got a long night ahead...
This last Friday proved to be one of the latter. You won't catch me complaining one bit. Heading down Mission with a makeshift crew five deep in the previously described state, we searched in vain for a cab before finally deciding to lower our standards and jump on the #14 bus heading downtown. To our surprise, it did not smell like piss and it turns out we were the craziest fools on board. One of our cohorts slipped into a mild state of delirium, muttering about "exact change" and finding it incomprehensible that it was only 10 at night. He was from out of town. It's to be expected.
Arriving at Mission and 6th, we debated whether or not to spark up another blunt. Cops weren't much of a concern, but we didn't want a slew of crackheads trying to jump in the cipher. We made our way to Anu, where we were heading to check out some SF Dubstep courtesy of the Grime City DJ crew and Emcee Child. We found an alley adjacent to the venue where there was only a lone crack dealer and lit the blunt. A weed dealer approached us and offered his wares. "No thanks man, we've already got trees."
The cipher complete, we made our way inside. The bouncer had walked away from the door, leaving a couple of cigarette smoking girls to man his post. The blunts had slowed our awareness, and most of the crew promptly showed the girls ID. I found this quite amusing, as the joke was clearly on us. After clearing the door, we had just enough time to get some drinks, and settle in for a long night of sick tunes and phat rhymes.
The video above is just a little taste of the type of ish that Grime City drops. I'd really suggest heading here and downloading this sick mix tape. It's free n's.
After a long night of dancing til sweaty, our crew reunited and found we were plus 2... a strange woman who was a friend of a friend of somebody, and an 8 foot tall stuffed flamingo. Nah I'm not making that up. It was a birthday gift from a crackhead. Not to me, our out-of-towner was celebrating 28 years. Walking down Mission Street at 1:30 a.m. 6 deep looking for a cab with an enormous stuffed flamingo is an arduous task. You might just call it impossible. 3 of us hid behind a bus stop while the other 3 humans and the flamingo jumped in a cab. The remaining lot of us decided to jump on the #14 bus heading back to our hood.
There was a freestyle session already going on in the back of the bus which George, the Puerto Rican in our crew quickly joined. We bounced off the bus at our stop and slid into the corner store. "Firewood and a six pack please!" Time for a late night backyard fire and blunt session. Ah, this was proving to be a good night. Technically, it was early morning, but there was no end in sight. After a few residents of the house joined us around the fire, we debated anything and everything loudly under the dark skies.
At some point I'd decided I'd had enough and jumped on my bike and made it home before the sun came up... but only barely. There is something about these September nights in San Francisco. The temperature is just right, and maybe it has something to do with the fact that we know we won't have too many nights like this, but when you're lucky enough to get caught up in one that feels like it's never going to end, well, you "just go with it" as George would say.
Big Ups! to the Grime City crew... One Love!
dw.bg
Some nights, time seems to stand still here in The City. This can be a good thing or a bad thing depending on the circumstances. For instance, if you're trying to get some sleep while the crackheads who live on the sidewalk outside your bedroom window are up freaking out all night, well, you're in for a long night. I'm not talking about that kind of night at the moment though. I'm talking about the kind of night where you've got a few beers down the hatch, the blunts have left your eyes slanted like ag's, one of your crew passes out muttering something about not being able to "taste my teeth", and you look at your celly and realize it's not quite 10 p.m. You might crack a grin cuz you know you've got a long night ahead...
This last Friday proved to be one of the latter. You won't catch me complaining one bit. Heading down Mission with a makeshift crew five deep in the previously described state, we searched in vain for a cab before finally deciding to lower our standards and jump on the #14 bus heading downtown. To our surprise, it did not smell like piss and it turns out we were the craziest fools on board. One of our cohorts slipped into a mild state of delirium, muttering about "exact change" and finding it incomprehensible that it was only 10 at night. He was from out of town. It's to be expected.
Arriving at Mission and 6th, we debated whether or not to spark up another blunt. Cops weren't much of a concern, but we didn't want a slew of crackheads trying to jump in the cipher. We made our way to Anu, where we were heading to check out some SF Dubstep courtesy of the Grime City DJ crew and Emcee Child. We found an alley adjacent to the venue where there was only a lone crack dealer and lit the blunt. A weed dealer approached us and offered his wares. "No thanks man, we've already got trees."
The cipher complete, we made our way inside. The bouncer had walked away from the door, leaving a couple of cigarette smoking girls to man his post. The blunts had slowed our awareness, and most of the crew promptly showed the girls ID. I found this quite amusing, as the joke was clearly on us. After clearing the door, we had just enough time to get some drinks, and settle in for a long night of sick tunes and phat rhymes.
The video above is just a little taste of the type of ish that Grime City drops. I'd really suggest heading here and downloading this sick mix tape. It's free n's.
After a long night of dancing til sweaty, our crew reunited and found we were plus 2... a strange woman who was a friend of a friend of somebody, and an 8 foot tall stuffed flamingo. Nah I'm not making that up. It was a birthday gift from a crackhead. Not to me, our out-of-towner was celebrating 28 years. Walking down Mission Street at 1:30 a.m. 6 deep looking for a cab with an enormous stuffed flamingo is an arduous task. You might just call it impossible. 3 of us hid behind a bus stop while the other 3 humans and the flamingo jumped in a cab. The remaining lot of us decided to jump on the #14 bus heading back to our hood.
There was a freestyle session already going on in the back of the bus which George, the Puerto Rican in our crew quickly joined. We bounced off the bus at our stop and slid into the corner store. "Firewood and a six pack please!" Time for a late night backyard fire and blunt session. Ah, this was proving to be a good night. Technically, it was early morning, but there was no end in sight. After a few residents of the house joined us around the fire, we debated anything and everything loudly under the dark skies.
At some point I'd decided I'd had enough and jumped on my bike and made it home before the sun came up... but only barely. There is something about these September nights in San Francisco. The temperature is just right, and maybe it has something to do with the fact that we know we won't have too many nights like this, but when you're lucky enough to get caught up in one that feels like it's never going to end, well, you "just go with it" as George would say.
Big Ups! to the Grime City crew... One Love!
dw.bg
bg/ish: The B-Sides...
* Editors Note: This story, originally supposed to run in several parts during and after bg's first ever trip to Chicago, never did see the light of day. We are not sure why but it likely has something to do with the excessive debauchery that occurred, and thus went unreported. This post encompasses the completed first installment, and never completed second installment. *
BG’s Taste of Chicago
I received the call shortly after 2:30 a.m. In my groggy state, I was initially uncertain of the caller’s validity.
“bg, pack some ish, you’re going to Chicago.”
“God?”, I replied.
“No stupid, it’s ag. I’m calling you to remind you that you are flying to Chicago early this morning. Now, my duty is done, so I’m going back to sleep you bastard. Have fun, and come back with a compelling story for the site or you’ll never see your PS2 again.”
Those may not have been his exact words, but like I mentioned earlier, it was early, and I am not always my sharpest in the a.m. hours.
So here I sit on an early morning flight to Chicago, unsure of my purpose, knowing only that I am soon to experience and see things of which I have not seen the likes before. My only concern at this point is what exactly ag considers “compelling”.
I can say for certain that flying in the post-September 11 era is an utterly joyless and tedious experience, and I suppose I wouldn’t have it any other way. Fear it seems has been bred so deeply within us that every fellow traveler suddenly becomes a potential threat. I was fortunate enough to avoid a cavity search this time through the airport, but I fear for some of those I saw being prodded and corralled into small dark rooms. Perhaps those rooms were only in my mind, but what difference does it make, really?
I look up from my computer long enough to see that “I Spy” is this mornings in-flight movie, which could lead me on any number of tangents about the sins of Eddie Murphy, the slumming of Owen Wilson, or the general hate that is being projected from a small television screen above me. I spend the next few minutes trying to think of new and exciting ways to describe the pure dick punch that is “I Spy”, but something in the movie's first five minutes has caused my brain to reboot and I end up sitting idle.
Certainly life can get no worse than the moment you realize that you are hurtling beyond your control at hundreds of miles per hour, thousands of feet in the air, strapped in a metal chassis that weighs some unknown number of tons, with cinematic vomit being spewed upon you.
I cannot set foot in Chicago soon enough.
I begin to wonder what kind of arrangements ag has made for me. Who will meet me at the airport? Will there be a code word or some sort of hand signal? Shouldn’t I have known this before boarding the flight? If my guide believes me to be an impostor are their instructions to kill me? How far does ag’s power reach? Come to think of it, has anyone ever really seen ag? Could I actually be ag? Is this all just a case of déjà vu? Did somebody spike my coffee?
My better judgment tells me that it’s probably time to bring an end to this first installment. I really have nowhere else to go with it until I actually set foot in this place the natives call Chicago and get my first taste of it. I’ll report again tomorrow, that is if I survive the secret handshake shit that’s sure to come. Well played ag, well played indeed.
* * * * *
The plane landed roughly under a clear sky and I wondered exactly what the pilot had been drinking for the last 4 hours. A young child a few rows in front of me gave yelp of terror, which only served to get a laugh out of me. Some of the passengers in my general area felt the need to turn around and give me disapproving looks, but I knew that somewhere inside themselves they had the urge to laugh as well, they just couldn’t locate it in time.
Unsure of what would await me upon my exit, I cowered in the back of the plane until I was asked to leave by a male flight attendant who may or may not have been gay. I suppose it matters not, as neither one of us was looking for a good time.
I stepped out of the tunnel and spotted my contact. The way the afternoon sun filtered through the windows made her look beautiful, or perhaps I only imagined her that way. She was working undercover behind the airline ticket counter. She looked up only for a moment, and flashed a quick smile.
“This way”, she said.
We quickly hurried through the corridors of the massive airport. Chicago O’Hare Airport is the kind of place that makes you want to stay home, pour your favorite drink and watch your pet play with it’s favorite toy. It is a distant place with no distinct personality to endear it to you or anybody else. It served its purpose, though, and just as quickly as my feet had hit solid ground we were on a train speeding through the suburbs of Chicago...
* * * * *
As usual, bg loves you and hates you just the same.
dw.bg
* Editors Note: This story, originally supposed to run in several parts during and after bg's first ever trip to Chicago, never did see the light of day. We are not sure why but it likely has something to do with the excessive debauchery that occurred, and thus went unreported. This post encompasses the completed first installment, and never completed second installment. *
BG’s Taste of Chicago
I received the call shortly after 2:30 a.m. In my groggy state, I was initially uncertain of the caller’s validity.
“bg, pack some ish, you’re going to Chicago.”
“God?”, I replied.
“No stupid, it’s ag. I’m calling you to remind you that you are flying to Chicago early this morning. Now, my duty is done, so I’m going back to sleep you bastard. Have fun, and come back with a compelling story for the site or you’ll never see your PS2 again.”
Those may not have been his exact words, but like I mentioned earlier, it was early, and I am not always my sharpest in the a.m. hours.
So here I sit on an early morning flight to Chicago, unsure of my purpose, knowing only that I am soon to experience and see things of which I have not seen the likes before. My only concern at this point is what exactly ag considers “compelling”.
I can say for certain that flying in the post-September 11 era is an utterly joyless and tedious experience, and I suppose I wouldn’t have it any other way. Fear it seems has been bred so deeply within us that every fellow traveler suddenly becomes a potential threat. I was fortunate enough to avoid a cavity search this time through the airport, but I fear for some of those I saw being prodded and corralled into small dark rooms. Perhaps those rooms were only in my mind, but what difference does it make, really?
I look up from my computer long enough to see that “I Spy” is this mornings in-flight movie, which could lead me on any number of tangents about the sins of Eddie Murphy, the slumming of Owen Wilson, or the general hate that is being projected from a small television screen above me. I spend the next few minutes trying to think of new and exciting ways to describe the pure dick punch that is “I Spy”, but something in the movie's first five minutes has caused my brain to reboot and I end up sitting idle.
Certainly life can get no worse than the moment you realize that you are hurtling beyond your control at hundreds of miles per hour, thousands of feet in the air, strapped in a metal chassis that weighs some unknown number of tons, with cinematic vomit being spewed upon you.
I cannot set foot in Chicago soon enough.
I begin to wonder what kind of arrangements ag has made for me. Who will meet me at the airport? Will there be a code word or some sort of hand signal? Shouldn’t I have known this before boarding the flight? If my guide believes me to be an impostor are their instructions to kill me? How far does ag’s power reach? Come to think of it, has anyone ever really seen ag? Could I actually be ag? Is this all just a case of déjà vu? Did somebody spike my coffee?
My better judgment tells me that it’s probably time to bring an end to this first installment. I really have nowhere else to go with it until I actually set foot in this place the natives call Chicago and get my first taste of it. I’ll report again tomorrow, that is if I survive the secret handshake shit that’s sure to come. Well played ag, well played indeed.
* * * * *
The plane landed roughly under a clear sky and I wondered exactly what the pilot had been drinking for the last 4 hours. A young child a few rows in front of me gave yelp of terror, which only served to get a laugh out of me. Some of the passengers in my general area felt the need to turn around and give me disapproving looks, but I knew that somewhere inside themselves they had the urge to laugh as well, they just couldn’t locate it in time.
Unsure of what would await me upon my exit, I cowered in the back of the plane until I was asked to leave by a male flight attendant who may or may not have been gay. I suppose it matters not, as neither one of us was looking for a good time.
I stepped out of the tunnel and spotted my contact. The way the afternoon sun filtered through the windows made her look beautiful, or perhaps I only imagined her that way. She was working undercover behind the airline ticket counter. She looked up only for a moment, and flashed a quick smile.
“This way”, she said.
We quickly hurried through the corridors of the massive airport. Chicago O’Hare Airport is the kind of place that makes you want to stay home, pour your favorite drink and watch your pet play with it’s favorite toy. It is a distant place with no distinct personality to endear it to you or anybody else. It served its purpose, though, and just as quickly as my feet had hit solid ground we were on a train speeding through the suburbs of Chicago...
* * * * *
As usual, bg loves you and hates you just the same.
dw.bg
Friday, September 19, 2008
bg/ish: Don't Call It a Comeback...
Well I haven't posted anything on here in a while, so like some Hollywood hack I'm resigned to recycling some old material from the past. Actually, I was probing the depths of my old laptop and found quite a bit of stuff I had been working on way back in 2003, which ag would confirm was clearly the peak of the bg/ag publishing empire.
Of course, back then I was so concerned with posting rants and raves and random movie reviews that I never really posted anything that some might consider "literary". Others would call it "ameteurish at best". Whatever tickles your titty.
So, In an effort to appease our demanding readers (ag) and open myself up to ridicule and shame, (from ag,) I'm going to go out on a limb here and expose myself to the masses. (Relax, I'm not wearing a trench you deviants.)
At any rate, I'll be releasing some of this material from time to time over the next few weeks as ag calls them, The B-Sides. In the posts that follow today, you'll find a bg/ish so controversial it was rejected by our editors and resulted in numerous lashes for bg. You'll also find some of bg's attempts at *gasp*... poetry.
Hell if ag can transform himself into a gangsta rapper then you should know that anything is possible.
As usual, bg loves and hates you just the same.
Well I haven't posted anything on here in a while, so like some Hollywood hack I'm resigned to recycling some old material from the past. Actually, I was probing the depths of my old laptop and found quite a bit of stuff I had been working on way back in 2003, which ag would confirm was clearly the peak of the bg/ag publishing empire.
Of course, back then I was so concerned with posting rants and raves and random movie reviews that I never really posted anything that some might consider "literary". Others would call it "ameteurish at best". Whatever tickles your titty.
So, In an effort to appease our demanding readers (ag) and open myself up to ridicule and shame, (from ag,) I'm going to go out on a limb here and expose myself to the masses. (Relax, I'm not wearing a trench you deviants.)
At any rate, I'll be releasing some of this material from time to time over the next few weeks as ag calls them, The B-Sides. In the posts that follow today, you'll find a bg/ish so controversial it was rejected by our editors and resulted in numerous lashes for bg. You'll also find some of bg's attempts at *gasp*... poetry.
Hell if ag can transform himself into a gangsta rapper then you should know that anything is possible.
As usual, bg loves and hates you just the same.
bg/ish: The B-Sides...
RED WINDOWS WITH BLUE TRIM
Glass changes colors
As thoughts fill the room
With a cloud of uncertainty
And sometimes dread
They always say
Don’t let it go to your head
It’s okay to be afraid
Someday you might get paid
Just to be
Whatever it is you find within
Your walls
Hard to get over
They’re so tall
Ah…
Take a sigh of relief
It’s the easiest way to get some
Naturally, you might feel a little down
I bet you’d smile
If I let you wear a crown
And act like you were the king
Of this world
Open your eyes it’s just us in this room and we’re coming down while the sun is coming up and the world is coming apart…
we are without a reality…
Just these red windows with blue trim
Everything seems different
As we look through them
It just might be our only escape
Like superheroes without a cape
We will
F
A
L
L
Our only hope is to land in the water
dw.bg
RED WINDOWS WITH BLUE TRIM
Glass changes colors
As thoughts fill the room
With a cloud of uncertainty
And sometimes dread
They always say
Don’t let it go to your head
It’s okay to be afraid
Someday you might get paid
Just to be
Whatever it is you find within
Your walls
Hard to get over
They’re so tall
Ah…
Take a sigh of relief
It’s the easiest way to get some
Naturally, you might feel a little down
I bet you’d smile
If I let you wear a crown
And act like you were the king
Of this world
Open your eyes it’s just us in this room and we’re coming down while the sun is coming up and the world is coming apart…
we are without a reality…
Just these red windows with blue trim
Everything seems different
As we look through them
It just might be our only escape
Like superheroes without a cape
We will
F
A
L
L
Our only hope is to land in the water
dw.bg
bg/ish: The B-Sides
SOLAR ECLIPSE
I dug up old memories
Of our past
The moments in time
That seem unreal to me now
And only serve as stories
Told during late night conversations
Transmitted over telephones
Masked in laughs
Buried under pain
These times are with me
Always
And yet I never lean on them
For support
Or even the slightest
Tug of emotion
In some vain attempt
To feel something real
You are locked away
Somewhere deep
And unexplored
A frightening place
Too dark and scary
For kids to play in
Where anger is the only emotion
That you or I
Have ever felt
Some day I think
And it will be too late
You will be gone forever
And I will never miss you
Until I think of you
Instinctively
When I hear a song
You once claimed
To know
Blame needs
Many shoulders to truly rest
Square
And I have carried
Far too much
On my own
Please take your share
So that I can
Pick myself up
Charmingly
You haunt me
With love that is never
Admitted
But cannot be broken
Even as teeth gnash
In an effort
To sever it
I am miserable
For you
And cannot stand myself
For it
This persuasion
In my blood
That wont allow me
To ignore
That I…
No more needs to be said
This isn’t that moment
And time slips
Away
And we’re disillusioned
For it
It will be one more day
Wasted
In the morning
dw.bg
SOLAR ECLIPSE
I dug up old memories
Of our past
The moments in time
That seem unreal to me now
And only serve as stories
Told during late night conversations
Transmitted over telephones
Masked in laughs
Buried under pain
These times are with me
Always
And yet I never lean on them
For support
Or even the slightest
Tug of emotion
In some vain attempt
To feel something real
You are locked away
Somewhere deep
And unexplored
A frightening place
Too dark and scary
For kids to play in
Where anger is the only emotion
That you or I
Have ever felt
Some day I think
And it will be too late
You will be gone forever
And I will never miss you
Until I think of you
Instinctively
When I hear a song
You once claimed
To know
Blame needs
Many shoulders to truly rest
Square
And I have carried
Far too much
On my own
Please take your share
So that I can
Pick myself up
Charmingly
You haunt me
With love that is never
Admitted
But cannot be broken
Even as teeth gnash
In an effort
To sever it
I am miserable
For you
And cannot stand myself
For it
This persuasion
In my blood
That wont allow me
To ignore
That I…
No more needs to be said
This isn’t that moment
And time slips
Away
And we’re disillusioned
For it
It will be one more day
Wasted
In the morning
dw.bg
bg/ish: The B-Sides...
* Editors Note: This article was written on January 20th, 2004, immediately following the State of the Union Address given by President George W. Bush. The speech of course dealt with the hot topics of the time, including the war in Iraq and the President's desire to ban gay marriage. This article was never published, in part due to it's extremely graphic nature, and in part because the interns voted to trash it on the basis that bg is an ignorant fool. As you know, there is anger, there is righteous indignation, and there is the wrath of bg. *
bg/ish: State Of The Union
For the first time in my life, I just might understand the mindset of those who throw their political weight to the conservative right. It’s almost as if their hands were dealt long ago, and they are left with no choice but to play them, and after all, everybody is after the same pot, it seems to come down to a matter of Jacks over tens. In a political sense, of course.
Wow, the Bush administration. Does anybody pay attention to the things that they really do? Put your hands down all you rainbow flag waving liberal left-handed commies! Don’t be offended, I’m one of you, it’s just that I’ve already read the other guys hand and I’m betting with a different angle on the game.
Game. Fun. Recreation? I don’t think so. See, with all the Reds, Whites and Blues that every cat seems to carry, the only color that matters is Green. Shit! People are dying in Iraq. People like any people. Soldiers. Kids. Violence. Scars. Shock. Awe. Sure, you’ve seen the green stains in the sand.
Change of subject. “…the whim of one brutal man…”, Bush said that in his State of the Union Address. Only he wasn’t talking about himself. So I guess the subject hasn’t really changed. He spoke about the “word of America”, and yet the only word I ever hear is WAR. Whoa! There are truths to be told.
Why haven’t you heard them yet? They’re quite popular these days. Haves and have-nots. Eh. It’s beginning to bore me really. Why should I be concerned with it when nobody else is? It’s not really all that important anyways. Of course, the grass is always greener.
Hey! Who was this Sadaam Hussein guy? Did he even really exist? Have you ever been to Iraq? Whoa! I’ve never seen him. Crazy. Is Iraq a real place? Well, that’s obviously a stupid question. I’m obviously an idiot. Obviously! Only an idiot would question the reality of a place where plenty of families…
…wait a minute. Damn! I’m so fucking stupid. Even I know somebody who went there. Hmmm. I can’t imagine. Forget what I said earlier. I don’t understand a fucking thing the conservative right stands for!
Sure, they’ll speak out against an issue like gay marriage. Big deal. Anybody over 75 years old will speak out against gay marriage! They’re the only ones old enough to remember a time when it was actually common to feel strongly opposed to homosexuality. Oh, by the way, Bush didn’t even mention the fact that a single American soldier or Iraqi citizen has been killed during his silly war. Wait, GAYS!! I almost forgot. So Bush rides to battle against gays, and the left really has no other choice but to embrace them. Eh.
That’s the game. Give and take. Push and shove. Fall down and get back up.
I’m tired. The “Terrorist” game is getting old. I’m getting bored. Do they really exist? I don’t know who was flying those planes. Riiiight. No American would have rode them in all the way, though. If the terrorists had given just one person the opportunity to get off the plane safely, the Americans on board would’ve beat each other to death just to be the one. But, fuck it, so some people actually have convictions. Hell, for all we really know, they’re right and we’re wrong, and wouldn’t that be some shit?
Hey, I don’t know. I’m thankful that I didn’t die on a hijacked airplane on September 11th, but I’m also pretty thankful that I didn’t die in a U.S. air raid while I was eating dinner with my family in some low cost housing on the east side of Bahgdad on a cool March night.
Smart bombs, but the man on the trigger might be stupid, or stoned, or in shock. And so we’re all glad we haven’t died, at least if we’ve lived long enough to read this. Oh, and since we’re still here, I think the sex gay people have is nasty. But they have the damn right to be as nasty as they want to be.
So, fuck it, or have I already said that? Did I say “nasty”? I’m sorry, I meant to say “confused”. My bad.
I’m confused. I’m bored too, but then I actually remember saying that already. “Just make the damn commitment!” Oh wait, you don’t know who I’m shouting at because you can’t hear the voices in my head. I’m talking to the gay people, by the way, not myself, although the irony is think enough to burn your lungs. Seriously, just make up your own shit. You’re married, so what. You’re not, oh well. Eh.
Did I mention that I was confused? That I’ve forgotten who the terrorists are? Who’s that guy in the suit? I can’t believe what he’s reading, I mean, saying. And so the race is on, and he prize is in sight, and it won’t make a difference if you cheat on your taxes because the world is coming to an end. Sigh. What do you think about peace and justice?
I look at my chips and push them all in.
dw.bg
* Editors Note: This article was written on January 20th, 2004, immediately following the State of the Union Address given by President George W. Bush. The speech of course dealt with the hot topics of the time, including the war in Iraq and the President's desire to ban gay marriage. This article was never published, in part due to it's extremely graphic nature, and in part because the interns voted to trash it on the basis that bg is an ignorant fool. As you know, there is anger, there is righteous indignation, and there is the wrath of bg. *
bg/ish: State Of The Union
For the first time in my life, I just might understand the mindset of those who throw their political weight to the conservative right. It’s almost as if their hands were dealt long ago, and they are left with no choice but to play them, and after all, everybody is after the same pot, it seems to come down to a matter of Jacks over tens. In a political sense, of course.
Wow, the Bush administration. Does anybody pay attention to the things that they really do? Put your hands down all you rainbow flag waving liberal left-handed commies! Don’t be offended, I’m one of you, it’s just that I’ve already read the other guys hand and I’m betting with a different angle on the game.
Game. Fun. Recreation? I don’t think so. See, with all the Reds, Whites and Blues that every cat seems to carry, the only color that matters is Green. Shit! People are dying in Iraq. People like any people. Soldiers. Kids. Violence. Scars. Shock. Awe. Sure, you’ve seen the green stains in the sand.
Change of subject. “…the whim of one brutal man…”, Bush said that in his State of the Union Address. Only he wasn’t talking about himself. So I guess the subject hasn’t really changed. He spoke about the “word of America”, and yet the only word I ever hear is WAR. Whoa! There are truths to be told.
Why haven’t you heard them yet? They’re quite popular these days. Haves and have-nots. Eh. It’s beginning to bore me really. Why should I be concerned with it when nobody else is? It’s not really all that important anyways. Of course, the grass is always greener.
Hey! Who was this Sadaam Hussein guy? Did he even really exist? Have you ever been to Iraq? Whoa! I’ve never seen him. Crazy. Is Iraq a real place? Well, that’s obviously a stupid question. I’m obviously an idiot. Obviously! Only an idiot would question the reality of a place where plenty of families…
…wait a minute. Damn! I’m so fucking stupid. Even I know somebody who went there. Hmmm. I can’t imagine. Forget what I said earlier. I don’t understand a fucking thing the conservative right stands for!
Sure, they’ll speak out against an issue like gay marriage. Big deal. Anybody over 75 years old will speak out against gay marriage! They’re the only ones old enough to remember a time when it was actually common to feel strongly opposed to homosexuality. Oh, by the way, Bush didn’t even mention the fact that a single American soldier or Iraqi citizen has been killed during his silly war. Wait, GAYS!! I almost forgot. So Bush rides to battle against gays, and the left really has no other choice but to embrace them. Eh.
That’s the game. Give and take. Push and shove. Fall down and get back up.
I’m tired. The “Terrorist” game is getting old. I’m getting bored. Do they really exist? I don’t know who was flying those planes. Riiiight. No American would have rode them in all the way, though. If the terrorists had given just one person the opportunity to get off the plane safely, the Americans on board would’ve beat each other to death just to be the one. But, fuck it, so some people actually have convictions. Hell, for all we really know, they’re right and we’re wrong, and wouldn’t that be some shit?
Hey, I don’t know. I’m thankful that I didn’t die on a hijacked airplane on September 11th, but I’m also pretty thankful that I didn’t die in a U.S. air raid while I was eating dinner with my family in some low cost housing on the east side of Bahgdad on a cool March night.
Smart bombs, but the man on the trigger might be stupid, or stoned, or in shock. And so we’re all glad we haven’t died, at least if we’ve lived long enough to read this. Oh, and since we’re still here, I think the sex gay people have is nasty. But they have the damn right to be as nasty as they want to be.
So, fuck it, or have I already said that? Did I say “nasty”? I’m sorry, I meant to say “confused”. My bad.
I’m confused. I’m bored too, but then I actually remember saying that already. “Just make the damn commitment!” Oh wait, you don’t know who I’m shouting at because you can’t hear the voices in my head. I’m talking to the gay people, by the way, not myself, although the irony is think enough to burn your lungs. Seriously, just make up your own shit. You’re married, so what. You’re not, oh well. Eh.
Did I mention that I was confused? That I’ve forgotten who the terrorists are? Who’s that guy in the suit? I can’t believe what he’s reading, I mean, saying. And so the race is on, and he prize is in sight, and it won’t make a difference if you cheat on your taxes because the world is coming to an end. Sigh. What do you think about peace and justice?
I look at my chips and push them all in.
dw.bg
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
agIsh: Hoo Hoo Ha Ha
bg was just mentioning our board meetings and I kept thinking what a bunch of monkeys our staff is (especially how our receptionist loves "bananas", IFyouknowhatimean...). That got me thinking about a couple of videos that I used crack me up; in fact, they still do:
The Monkey Bar
Office Monkeys
I have nothing interesting to say at the moment so I left you with copyrighted material - in good ol' Pub Style!
nv@ag
bg was just mentioning our board meetings and I kept thinking what a bunch of monkeys our staff is (especially how our receptionist loves "bananas", IFyouknowhatimean...). That got me thinking about a couple of videos that I used crack me up; in fact, they still do:
The Monkey Bar
Office Monkeys
I have nothing interesting to say at the moment so I left you with copyrighted material - in good ol' Pub Style!
nv@ag
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Breaking News! Shouting match erupts at bg/ag publishing Board Meeting!
Typically here at bg/ag publishing we like to keep the behind the scenes goings-ons to ourselves and the interns, especially regarding matters that concern some of ag's nastier habits. However, events at a recent board meeting bear mentioning, since ag's reputation is on the line.
As the following transcript of the meeting clearly shows, ag claims to have traveled into the future to obtain a report for the site. Disgusting.
* BEGIN TRANSCRIPT *
bg: Say why is your blog about Comic-Con 2009? Did you travel to the future?
ag: I really put 2009? Well, you have executive power! Yeah, i don't recall putting 2008 at all. I mean 2009. Done and done.
bg: even the logo says 2009.
ag: What the f**k? Really?
bg: Crasy. I don't think you went at all!
ag: What year is this?
bg: It's all smoke and mirrors! You photoshopped that logo and I caught you! Hahaha!
ag: That's...wow... I didn't even realize. That's crazy
bg: Hahaha!
ag: I think YOU did that!
bg: Never! * unh *
ag: That's why there are so many changes to the blog but no posts! You're trying to dupe me!
bg: Hahaha! You're posting false information about Cons that haven't occurred yet!
ag: You're only making it look that way!
bg: I never uploaded that filthy image!
ag: You're lucky there's no edit time stamp or I'd have you all figured out.
bg: Tell me more about Comic-Con 2009!... Really, I'd like to know all about it!
ag: Why don't you make it up like you made up that banner!
bg: Those are probably copyrighted images you stole from the official Comic-Con website! I have that very pair of shoes in my possession!
ag: And it says "bg/ag publishing" on them? I doubt that sir.
bg: Do you!?! I doubt you attended Comic-Con 2009!!... Sir!
ag: Dont' "sir" me!
bg: I can't tell your lies from your truths anymore... You filthy fool!
ag: Don't sir me!
bg: ha HA! You have nothing to say! I'm removing said post until it can be factually verified...
bg: We'll see if you really traveled to the future and attended Comic-Con 2009... Or if you brewed up a filthy batch of your lies!
ag: Well, I'm removing all evidence of your filthy plot to foil me...THEN we'll see who has the last laugh! ha HA!
bg: Too late! I have screen caps!
ag: No you don't...
bg: Oh don't i?
ag: You don't. I can tell by your use of punctuation.
bg: Oh we'll see about that.
ag: You better not be opening up Photoshop right now!
bg: Too late!
ag: d a m n y o u . . .
* END TRANSCRIPT *
* SCREEN CAPTURE OF BLOG IN QUESTION *
* * * * *
We'll have more on this developing story as soon as we officially declare Shenanigans on ag...
*ahem*
Editor
Typically here at bg/ag publishing we like to keep the behind the scenes goings-ons to ourselves and the interns, especially regarding matters that concern some of ag's nastier habits. However, events at a recent board meeting bear mentioning, since ag's reputation is on the line.
As the following transcript of the meeting clearly shows, ag claims to have traveled into the future to obtain a report for the site. Disgusting.
* BEGIN TRANSCRIPT *
bg: Say why is your blog about Comic-Con 2009? Did you travel to the future?
ag: I really put 2009? Well, you have executive power! Yeah, i don't recall putting 2008 at all. I mean 2009. Done and done.
bg: even the logo says 2009.
ag: What the f**k? Really?
bg: Crasy. I don't think you went at all!
ag: What year is this?
bg: It's all smoke and mirrors! You photoshopped that logo and I caught you! Hahaha!
ag: That's...wow... I didn't even realize. That's crazy
bg: Hahaha!
ag: I think YOU did that!
bg: Never! * unh *
ag: That's why there are so many changes to the blog but no posts! You're trying to dupe me!
bg: Hahaha! You're posting false information about Cons that haven't occurred yet!
ag: You're only making it look that way!
bg: I never uploaded that filthy image!
ag: You're lucky there's no edit time stamp or I'd have you all figured out.
bg: Tell me more about Comic-Con 2009!... Really, I'd like to know all about it!
ag: Why don't you make it up like you made up that banner!
bg: Those are probably copyrighted images you stole from the official Comic-Con website! I have that very pair of shoes in my possession!
ag: And it says "bg/ag publishing" on them? I doubt that sir.
bg: Do you!?! I doubt you attended Comic-Con 2009!!... Sir!
ag: Dont' "sir" me!
bg: I can't tell your lies from your truths anymore... You filthy fool!
ag: Don't sir me!
bg: ha HA! You have nothing to say! I'm removing said post until it can be factually verified...
bg: We'll see if you really traveled to the future and attended Comic-Con 2009... Or if you brewed up a filthy batch of your lies!
ag: Well, I'm removing all evidence of your filthy plot to foil me...THEN we'll see who has the last laugh! ha HA!
bg: Too late! I have screen caps!
ag: No you don't...
bg: Oh don't i?
ag: You don't. I can tell by your use of punctuation.
bg: Oh we'll see about that.
ag: You better not be opening up Photoshop right now!
bg: Too late!
ag: d a m n y o u . . .
* END TRANSCRIPT *
* SCREEN CAPTURE OF BLOG IN QUESTION *
* * * * *
We'll have more on this developing story as soon as we officially declare Shenanigans on ag...
*ahem*
Editor
agIsh: "Lashing Out!" - closing remarks & new Ish!
(Hey, beats my original title of "Lashing Out!" - a rebuttal of a rebuttal of a rebuttal)
That video, when watched with sound muted, is about 50 seconds too long; with sound, it's about 51 seconds too long.
Moving on...
This week has been great. I'll start backwards.
Back to School
Yep, school started up again this week and I'm glad it did. The old summer break routine was wearing thin and seeing young supple skin of undergrads is always welcome. It should be a stress-free semester as I only have one class.
Labor Day
Ironically, Labor Day is known for people not working, but whatever. I had an opportunity to have lunch with my family. We hung out in Redondo Beach and I was surprised to see the huge number of minorities there. I'm not racist or anything; I'm just stating facts. The artificial beach was occupied by shirt-wearing yes, while they were in the water) Hispanics and the restaurant was saturated with either Asians for Phillipinos. It was weird.
And in the mix was Jimmy Kimmel! Yes! The Jimmy Kimmel. I was waiting for the restroom and some girl pointed him out. The conversation went like so:
Girl: Do you know Jimmy Kimmel?
Me: Um...yeah...but not personally.
Girl: I think that's him standing right there. I was listening to his voice.
Me: *looks* Hm...I think you're right. I think that is Jimmy Kimmel.
[The conversation quickly ended as we made passionate love right there on the floor! I never got her name or contact info.]
It's a stupid answer when I think about it, but I like the "not personally" line a lot. I have no idea why. Jimmy Kimmel looks like an everyday guy and would never stand out in a crowd if no one knew him. At one point I debated whether or not to talk to him but I figured I wouldn't talk to any other strange man...why make an exception for him? So I just walked on by.
A New Love in My Life
I bought a new bow. What? You were expecting me to mention a woman? Yeah, right! I find that inanimate objects respond better to my whimperings and spontaneous bouts of weeping. Anyway, beautiful bow, feels great, and shoots well. By all rights I'm still a novice but do hope to be proficient enough to go hunting.
(Hey, beats my original title of "Lashing Out!" - a rebuttal of a rebuttal of a rebuttal)
That video, when watched with sound muted, is about 50 seconds too long; with sound, it's about 51 seconds too long.
Moving on...
This week has been great. I'll start backwards.
Back to School
Yep, school started up again this week and I'm glad it did. The old summer break routine was wearing thin and seeing young supple skin of undergrads is always welcome. It should be a stress-free semester as I only have one class.
Labor Day
Ironically, Labor Day is known for people not working, but whatever. I had an opportunity to have lunch with my family. We hung out in Redondo Beach and I was surprised to see the huge number of minorities there. I'm not racist or anything; I'm just stating facts. The artificial beach was occupied by shirt-wearing yes, while they were in the water) Hispanics and the restaurant was saturated with either Asians for Phillipinos. It was weird.
And in the mix was Jimmy Kimmel! Yes! The Jimmy Kimmel. I was waiting for the restroom and some girl pointed him out. The conversation went like so:
Girl: Do you know Jimmy Kimmel?
Me: Um...yeah...but not personally.
Girl: I think that's him standing right there. I was listening to his voice.
Me: *looks* Hm...I think you're right. I think that is Jimmy Kimmel.
[The conversation quickly ended as we made passionate love right there on the floor! I never got her name or contact info.]
It's a stupid answer when I think about it, but I like the "not personally" line a lot. I have no idea why. Jimmy Kimmel looks like an everyday guy and would never stand out in a crowd if no one knew him. At one point I debated whether or not to talk to him but I figured I wouldn't talk to any other strange man...why make an exception for him? So I just walked on by.
A New Love in My Life
I bought a new bow. What? You were expecting me to mention a woman? Yeah, right! I find that inanimate objects respond better to my whimperings and spontaneous bouts of weeping. Anyway, beautiful bow, feels great, and shoots well. By all rights I'm still a novice but do hope to be proficient enough to go hunting.
Yes, I advocate hunting. No, I will not debate moral issues with you.
nv@ag
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
bg/ish: Lashing Out!
So your boy ag goes on a little run of a few posts and starts acting like his poops don't stain. That's OK, I'm quite used to this nonsense. ag often enjoys the view from his high horse, but when the shoe is on the other foot well then his damn goose will be cooked! His horse and his goose!
So alright ag, IF that's even your real name...
...you wanna play games like, let's read bg's unposted drafts and mock him openly in IM's. Well your little game worked ag! You're getting your filthy post, fueled completely with spite!
So let's go over some of this old material before it suffers at the hands of the "Delete" button...
* * * * *
Let's see, there was this little bit from 11/19/07, or as ag dismissed it as "2 and a half sentences... NEXT!"
Did you ever think, ag, that maybe two and a half sentences were all I could muster in that long forgotten post about how the 49ers were breaking my wretched heart!?! Didja?!?
Oh and now they're trying to convince me that trotting out J.T. O'Sullivan at starting QB is going to be the answer. A year later and I could never bring myself to finish that filthy post under such horrific circumstances! Thanks for opening old wounds!
Speaking of these so-called "49ers", let's all give thanks for the final year of the Mike Nolan Era. Really, it was fun Mike, but thanks for coming. Don't get me wrong, I loved your resume, your defensive pedigree, and the suits were a class touch. However, it seems you're supposed to be winning football games and well when it comes to that you just don't seem to have any freakin' clue. Now go, good riddance.
* * * * *
Speaking of football, I was going to post recently on the (at the time) upcoming Fantasy Football draft and subsequent rebirth of my team SF F.C. (formerly known as The Planet Express). Well, the draft took place this last Sunday morning at 9:30 a.m. from an undisclosed location, and although I nearly missed it on account of the previous night's debauchery, I managed to pull off a draft I'm mildly pleased with. I had the 10th and final pick in the first round which gave me the first pick in the second round and so forth. My picks played out as follows...
1. (10) Frank Gore RB
2. (11) Peyton Manning QB
3. (30) Willie Parker RB
4. (31) Plaxico Burress WR
5. (50) Tony Gonzalez TE
6. (51) Julius Jones RB
7. (70) Green Bay DEF
8. (71) Santana Moss WR
9. (90) Reggie Williams WR
10. (91) Philip Rivers QB
11. (110) Rob Bironas K
12. (111) Reggie Brown WR
13. (130) Tampa Bay DEF
14. (131) Rashard Mendenhall RB
15. (150) Robbie Gould K
Yes, despite my prior rants, I took a filthy 49er with my first pick in the draft. I'm as disgusted as I should be. There is also little doubt that I'll not be able to live with myself with Peyton Manning as my starting QB. Perhaps I jumped the gun. The draft gets a little shaky towards the bottom but I really had some bad drafting position and may or may not have been making my picks while laying in bed next to a half nekkid womaing! Top that ag!
So ya, we'll see how we do here coming up in Week 1 and I'll be sure to post the results of my certain to be resounding victory!
* * * * *
In other news, I did, at the urging of ag, head down to Golden Gate Park a couple Friday's ago and catch Radiohead playing the Outside Lands Festival. A simple stroll through google will get you the gamut of reactions from this show, and all I can say is well, when you go to a music festival expect festival-like conditions and be prepared. This isn't an effin' wine and cheese sit down at the Coach House you uppity mofo's.
So anyhow, 95 pounds of chee$e got me into the door to see Radiohead and that was basically it. Their setlist looked something like this...
1. 15 Step
2. Reckoner
3. Airbag
4. There There
5. All I Need
6. Nude
7. Talk Show Host
8. National Anthem
9. The Gloaming
10. Videotape
11. Weird Fishes/Arpeggi
12. Idioteque
13. Karma Police
14. Jigsaw Falling Into Place
15. Just
16. Exit Music (for a film)
17. Bodysnatchers
Encore
18. Pyramid Song
19. You And Whose Army?
20. Paranoid Android
21. Fake Plastic Trees
22. Everything In Its Right Place
Was it an amazing show? Without a doubt. Was it worth 95 clams? Meh...
* * * * *
So there you have it ag, a worthless post of topics that nobody cares about. Alas, I'll leave you all with pictures of Doggies at Dolores!...
hahahahaha
dw.bg
So your boy ag goes on a little run of a few posts and starts acting like his poops don't stain. That's OK, I'm quite used to this nonsense. ag often enjoys the view from his high horse, but when the shoe is on the other foot well then his damn goose will be cooked! His horse and his goose!
So alright ag, IF that's even your real name...
...you wanna play games like, let's read bg's unposted drafts and mock him openly in IM's. Well your little game worked ag! You're getting your filthy post, fueled completely with spite!
So let's go over some of this old material before it suffers at the hands of the "Delete" button...
* * * * *
Let's see, there was this little bit from 11/19/07, or as ag dismissed it as "2 and a half sentences... NEXT!"
Did you ever think, ag, that maybe two and a half sentences were all I could muster in that long forgotten post about how the 49ers were breaking my wretched heart!?! Didja?!?
Oh and now they're trying to convince me that trotting out J.T. O'Sullivan at starting QB is going to be the answer. A year later and I could never bring myself to finish that filthy post under such horrific circumstances! Thanks for opening old wounds!
Speaking of these so-called "49ers", let's all give thanks for the final year of the Mike Nolan Era. Really, it was fun Mike, but thanks for coming. Don't get me wrong, I loved your resume, your defensive pedigree, and the suits were a class touch. However, it seems you're supposed to be winning football games and well when it comes to that you just don't seem to have any freakin' clue. Now go, good riddance.
* * * * *
Speaking of football, I was going to post recently on the (at the time) upcoming Fantasy Football draft and subsequent rebirth of my team SF F.C. (formerly known as The Planet Express). Well, the draft took place this last Sunday morning at 9:30 a.m. from an undisclosed location, and although I nearly missed it on account of the previous night's debauchery, I managed to pull off a draft I'm mildly pleased with. I had the 10th and final pick in the first round which gave me the first pick in the second round and so forth. My picks played out as follows...
1. (10) Frank Gore RB
2. (11) Peyton Manning QB
3. (30) Willie Parker RB
4. (31) Plaxico Burress WR
5. (50) Tony Gonzalez TE
6. (51) Julius Jones RB
7. (70) Green Bay DEF
8. (71) Santana Moss WR
9. (90) Reggie Williams WR
10. (91) Philip Rivers QB
11. (110) Rob Bironas K
12. (111) Reggie Brown WR
13. (130) Tampa Bay DEF
14. (131) Rashard Mendenhall RB
15. (150) Robbie Gould K
Yes, despite my prior rants, I took a filthy 49er with my first pick in the draft. I'm as disgusted as I should be. There is also little doubt that I'll not be able to live with myself with Peyton Manning as my starting QB. Perhaps I jumped the gun. The draft gets a little shaky towards the bottom but I really had some bad drafting position and may or may not have been making my picks while laying in bed next to a half nekkid womaing! Top that ag!
So ya, we'll see how we do here coming up in Week 1 and I'll be sure to post the results of my certain to be resounding victory!
* * * * *
In other news, I did, at the urging of ag, head down to Golden Gate Park a couple Friday's ago and catch Radiohead playing the Outside Lands Festival. A simple stroll through google will get you the gamut of reactions from this show, and all I can say is well, when you go to a music festival expect festival-like conditions and be prepared. This isn't an effin' wine and cheese sit down at the Coach House you uppity mofo's.
So anyhow, 95 pounds of chee$e got me into the door to see Radiohead and that was basically it. Their setlist looked something like this...
1. 15 Step
2. Reckoner
3. Airbag
4. There There
5. All I Need
6. Nude
7. Talk Show Host
8. National Anthem
9. The Gloaming
10. Videotape
11. Weird Fishes/Arpeggi
12. Idioteque
13. Karma Police
14. Jigsaw Falling Into Place
15. Just
16. Exit Music (for a film)
17. Bodysnatchers
Encore
18. Pyramid Song
19. You And Whose Army?
20. Paranoid Android
21. Fake Plastic Trees
22. Everything In Its Right Place
Was it an amazing show? Without a doubt. Was it worth 95 clams? Meh...
* * * * *
So there you have it ag, a worthless post of topics that nobody cares about. Alas, I'll leave you all with pictures of Doggies at Dolores!...
hahahahaha
dw.bg
Friday, August 29, 2008
agIsh: Rock Out with My Sock Out
As I look forward to my Fall Semester, I seek comfort in the small things. Here is a list of songs that really gets my head bobbin' and generally bring up my spirits. If I actually had the respect of my peers (bg included) I'd be worried about losing it after this list. However, since I don't, here they are in no particular order:
Sure I could've chosen a less gay list but how interesting would that article be? I challenge you to listen to these songs and come away less happy! I'm sure there's more to add to this list but it's about 2 in the morning and I can't think of any more. And I figured since I had the bug I might as well post something or else laziness would've gotten the best of me.
nv@ag
As I look forward to my Fall Semester, I seek comfort in the small things. Here is a list of songs that really gets my head bobbin' and generally bring up my spirits. If I actually had the respect of my peers (bg included) I'd be worried about losing it after this list. However, since I don't, here they are in no particular order:
- "Love At First Sight" - Kyle Minogue [video]
- "Rock Your Body" - Justin Timberlake [video]
- "Kiss On My List" - Hall & Oates [video]
- "Toxic" - Britney Spears [video]
- "You Are My High" - Demon vs Heartbreaker [video]
- "By Your Side (Neptunes Remix)" - Sade [video]
- "I'm In Heaven" - Jason Nevins featuring Holly James [video]
- "Reminiscing" - Little River Band [video ... this video fucken rocks, by the way]
Sure I could've chosen a less gay list but how interesting would that article be? I challenge you to listen to these songs and come away less happy! I'm sure there's more to add to this list but it's about 2 in the morning and I can't think of any more. And I figured since I had the bug I might as well post something or else laziness would've gotten the best of me.
nv@ag
Monday, August 18, 2008
agIsh: Back In My Day... Special First Edition!
("First" indeed implies more are to come!)
Welcome to "Back In My Day", an article I will use to vent my frustrations with the current state of the world from the point of view of an old man. Sure, I was born in the late 70s and suckled on the teets of Transformers, Hall and Oats, and ring pops, but that doesn't mean that time can't beat my mind and body into a leathery pulp! What do you know, anyway? You're just a kid!
Back in my day, we used to trust cops. I remember fondly my D.A.R.E. program in 5th grade. D.A.R.E., for those of you who associate CGI with the "original" Transformers Movie and think that the Finding Nemo Submarine Voyage has always been at Disneyland, stands for Drug Abuse Resistance Education. This was circa 1986 when "Just Say No" was at its peak, when drug use was purely recreational and no one had glaucoma or arthritis to alleviate.
Yes, I suppose you could say it was a sort of utopia.
D.A.R.E. programs were usually taught by policemen (this was the unisex term we used before the coining of "cops"). My policaman's name was Officer Peña. As you can guess by the name, he was latino, most likely mexican, spoke english well, and was respected. The ability to speak english and having the respect of others are mutually exclusive...in this instance, that is.
During my D.A.R.E. stint, I learned that drugs are things other than food that you take into your body that messes with your head. I learned what can happen when drugs are introduced into your body. I also learned effective methods in combating peer pressure.
The point of all this is that Officer Peña was a nice man, fun, and trusted by all! At no point did I feel that I was going to be body checked while riding my bike [story]. At no point did I feel that I would get my head bashed in for spilling water [story]. I'm sure police brutality isn't a new invention but it does seem to have escalated and spiraled out of control recently.
This isn't all surprising when you think about who it is we're "trusting" here. I'm inherently not trusting at all. It takes quite some time for me to trust anyone and, once earned, that trust has to be maintained. Last I checked cops are people too and using the simple "if A = B and B = C" method I learned back in my day, I am not to trust cops - they have to earn it. We've appointed...no, others have appointed these people to put on uniforms, carry guns and batons, and protect us. I don't recall getting this run by me. What if this dude really doesn't like asians, is really having a bad day, and finds me bumping Coltrane in my bad ass Camry? I'm effed, straight and simple.
Here's an interesting video series that's entitled simply "Don't Talk to Cops". This may be second nature to many of you, but this is something I've had to unlearn since my days of D.A.R.E.
Now, don't get me wrong - I'm not encouraging cop-bashing. I'm not saying I hate cops. I'm not saying "eff the police". I am saying that cops are people too. Do with that as you will.
My Thundercats DVD just came in the mail - I will chegg you later.
nv@ag
("First" indeed implies more are to come!)
Welcome to "Back In My Day", an article I will use to vent my frustrations with the current state of the world from the point of view of an old man. Sure, I was born in the late 70s and suckled on the teets of Transformers, Hall and Oats, and ring pops, but that doesn't mean that time can't beat my mind and body into a leathery pulp! What do you know, anyway? You're just a kid!
Back in my day, we used to trust cops. I remember fondly my D.A.R.E. program in 5th grade. D.A.R.E., for those of you who associate CGI with the "original" Transformers Movie and think that the Finding Nemo Submarine Voyage has always been at Disneyland, stands for Drug Abuse Resistance Education. This was circa 1986 when "Just Say No" was at its peak, when drug use was purely recreational and no one had glaucoma or arthritis to alleviate.
Yes, I suppose you could say it was a sort of utopia.
D.A.R.E. programs were usually taught by policemen (this was the unisex term we used before the coining of "cops"). My policaman's name was Officer Peña. As you can guess by the name, he was latino, most likely mexican, spoke english well, and was respected. The ability to speak english and having the respect of others are mutually exclusive...in this instance, that is.
During my D.A.R.E. stint, I learned that drugs are things other than food that you take into your body that messes with your head. I learned what can happen when drugs are introduced into your body. I also learned effective methods in combating peer pressure.
...in related news, I've tried marijuana several times since and have been in a drunken stupor more than I can remember and have enjoyed these experiences immensely every time.
The point of all this is that Officer Peña was a nice man, fun, and trusted by all! At no point did I feel that I was going to be body checked while riding my bike [story]. At no point did I feel that I would get my head bashed in for spilling water [story]. I'm sure police brutality isn't a new invention but it does seem to have escalated and spiraled out of control recently.
This isn't all surprising when you think about who it is we're "trusting" here. I'm inherently not trusting at all. It takes quite some time for me to trust anyone and, once earned, that trust has to be maintained. Last I checked cops are people too and using the simple "if A = B and B = C" method I learned back in my day, I am not to trust cops - they have to earn it. We've appointed...no, others have appointed these people to put on uniforms, carry guns and batons, and protect us. I don't recall getting this run by me. What if this dude really doesn't like asians, is really having a bad day, and finds me bumping Coltrane in my bad ass Camry? I'm effed, straight and simple.
Here's an interesting video series that's entitled simply "Don't Talk to Cops". This may be second nature to many of you, but this is something I've had to unlearn since my days of D.A.R.E.
Now, don't get me wrong - I'm not encouraging cop-bashing. I'm not saying I hate cops. I'm not saying "eff the police". I am saying that cops are people too. Do with that as you will.
My Thundercats DVD just came in the mail - I will chegg you later.
nv@ag
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