Over on the facebook (friend me.  I’ll totally be your friend) a couple weeks ago, I mentioned that anyone who wrote a song about pot should stop writing songs.  I mean, if all you can write about is getting high, you have got no creative juice left.  Sorry, bra.

This got me thinking – what other subjects are stupid?  So here are a few things I can promise you I will avoid writing about altogether:

- “The outskirts of town.”  This one appears in several of your finer ballads from troubadours of the Springsteen millieu.  I have no idea where the outskirts of town are.  As far as I know, I’ve never even been in a town with outskirts.  I’m convinced there are way more songs about outskirts than actual outskirts.  Someone prove me wrong.

-  “Riding/driving/rolling down the highway,”  Now, I have actually rolled down the highway several times in my life.  In fact, I spent a good portion of my day today rolling down the old highway.  And maybe I’m frequenting less scenic interstates than my songwriting brethren, but there’s nothing particularly art-inspiring about the sea of asphalt and assholes I sit in every day.  Unless I decide to write some lyrics about a careless prick about to ram into my rear bumper because he’s texting with one hand, picking his nose with the other, I’m going to pass.

-  Cumquats.  An entirely uninspiring fruit and furthermore impossible to find a rhyme.

-  Politics.  Don’t get me wrong – there have been some great politically-based protest folk and rock and roll songs through the years.  Music can be a great catalyst for social change.  The reason why I will never write anything political is that social commentary has reached its apex with the latest from the Adam Ezra Group:  “Down in the basement/trying to contemplate the scene/Of a billion dollar stimulus/And what its going to mean.”  That should about solve the problems of the world.  Suck it, Bob Dylan!

-  Love.  Come on – doesn’t exist.

Anything else I should avoid?

Overheard between Brendan and former Fooled By April rock god Joe Welsh:

Joe: I need to lose a lot of weight, but I think the only way I can is to hack off a limb.

Brendan: Go with the leg.  People will have more sympathy.  If you only have one arm and DON’T play the drums for a hair metal band, you’re up shit’s creek.

Joe:  True.  In a wheelchair, I could hide my gut with a blanket.

Brendan:  And you could hide sandwiches under you.  Sandwiches go everywhere.

Joe: I really like sandwiches.

Brendan:  My diet is a good 90% sandwich.

Joe:  They are good.  Why deny it?

Brendan:  If loving sandwiches is wrong, I still want to eat lots of sandwiches.

Joe:  The other day I had a PB and R – peanut butter and raisin.  That was all I had in the house.

Brendan:  The verdict?

Joe:  Fucking delicious.

Brendan: You’re an innovator.

Quick update:  the inimitable Ashley over at Boston Band Crush has put up a little “crush” on our band over at the site.  Check it out here.

Also, Ms. Rita Cary at 92.5FM the River will be spinning us tonight at 10pm as part of the Homegrown Showcase tonight at 10pm.  Listen on old-fashioned radio or on the newfangled web at www.wxrv.com. 

Finally, the Oscars have snubbed me once again.  I thought I was excellent in the director’s cut of Avatar as the guy in the back row yelling “Less talking, more bloobs!”  (Bloobs are blue boobs.)

I try to enjoy them with the rest of you.  I really do.

Shows like The Jersey Shore are, on the surface, a lot of fun to watch.  Who wouldn’t be entertained by a flashy combination of spray tans and complete lack of self awareness?  But as I talk to other reality TV viewers, I start to realize that perhaps these shows don’t bring out a good side of my personality.

Person:  Have you seen this Jersey Shore show?

Me:  Yeah, it’s hilarious.

Person:  That “Situation” guy is such a tool.

Me:  I know.  I hope that piece of shit kills himself.

Person:  Uh… what?

Me:  Or you know what would be cool?  If he were like horribly disfigured or crippled in some way.

Person:  O… k… I’m going to be over here now…

Here’s the problem – I watch these shows, hoping for justice to be served.  I don’t get any satisfaction from the resolution of a “Will Pauly and JWow hook up?” storyline.  I want a finale in which Sooki looks into the camera and says, “Oh my God – I’m empty inside.  My pursuit of fame at all costs is all wrong.  My parents should be ashamed of themselves.”  Instead, I get a gross hot tub make-out session.  Yuck.

You see, the only way reality TV will work for me is if every season ends with a Flannery O’Connor-esque life-changing moment of horror.  A soul-searing accident involving deep personal scarring and perhaps battery acid.  You know, so the kids watching learn how horrible it is to live like this.  Methinks I’m going to go home unsatisfied by the good people at MTV.

Of all the shows that I have powered through, Jersey Shore had the most potential to deliver at least SOME level of self-awareness.  How does a young woman get punched in the face for being obnoxious and NOT walk away with at least an inkling of “Hey, maybe I shouldn’t do that anymore.  The world is a dangerous place.”  Sadly, MTV had no time for that.  There were other fights to have and gross people to make out with and awful, clumsy dancing to house music to do.

The sad thing is that I’ll keep watching these shows, waiting for that moment of startling self-awareness.  I have a feeling that I’m going to be waiting for a looooong time.

Bring it on, Situation.  I hope Bells Palsy attacks your balls.

There are moments in life when you want the conversation to go in a completely different way.  Here’s a conversation I had at local police station while filing a report with a bank card fraud report with a handlebar-moustached officer:

Me:  Yeah, they must have scanned and copied my card.

Officer:  Uh huh.

Me:  I have no idea how they did it.

Officer:  Yeah, they’ll do that.

Me:  Okay, anything else I should do?

Officer:  Get rid of your ATM card.  Just use a credit card.  You idiot (implied).

Me:  Thanks, that’s good advice.  What else can I do?  Maybe grow a big stupid moustache?

Officer:  Huh?

Me:  A big stupid moustache,  Think I should grow one?  I mean – couldn’t hurt, right?

Why is it that even when they’re helping you, the police have a way of making you feel like they’re taking a crap in your mouth?  Is it me?  Do I just have a natural problem with authority?

Here’s another piece of good advice, this time from the funniest talk show host of all time:

“Cynicism is my least favorite quality.  If you work hard and are kind, amazing things will happen to you.”  – Conan O’Brien

Couldn’t agree more, CoCo.  I know that my life has gotten exponentially better since I dropped the whole “everything sucks” act in early 2005.  Thanks for everything, Conan.

So do you remember last summer?  Wasn’t it great?  Oh, the good times we had together. 

You know what was my favorite part of the summer?  Boston Band Crush presents… One Night Band.  40 musicians put into 8 random bands of 5.  We were given about 6 hours to write 3 songs and learn one cover.  It was a crazy, hectic, magical night of music and friendship.  Honestly, it was one of the greatest experiences of my life. 

Apparently, I wasn’t the only one because check this shit out – One Night Band Reunions!  3 weeks of reunion shows starring the bands whose members made up the combos that evening.  And it starts this Wednesday with The Peppermint Patties!  Featuring all kinds of awesome people.

My outfit, The Champagne of Bands, will be closing out the residency on Tuesday February 9.  But there’s plenty of time for that, kittens.

Another successful show despite the universe conspiring against us.  Here’s how it all went down…

-  Around 10am, I get a call from Tim “The Chef” Delaney informing me of the unfortunate fact that vomit was leaving his body with the speed and frequency of an Epcot Center supertram.  (Remember?  Because he was at Disney?  No?)  Although he was going to try to muscle through, the Chef was a very strong “probably not” for the show.  Add this develepmont to the fact that KenDo was in Vegas this weekend and you’ve got yourself a bit of a crisis.

-  Luckily, the multi-talented Jason Dunn of The Luxury and Will Dailey were on board to be special guests, so they were about to pull more duty than for which they had bargained.  Will handled the news with his characteristic laid back aplomb while Jason freaked out for a few hours and then decided to kick all kinds of ass and perhaps take a few names.   Like Irving.  He might, for instance, take that name.

-  With all this adversity in front of us, we had two choices – throw in the towel or continue to rock.  I picked the third option:  drink heavily on the Lizard Lounge’s tab!  During soundcheck, I took advantage of the kindness of the bartender and gulped my problems away!  Who says alcohol doesn’t magically solve everything?  Liars, that’s who.

-  Right before show time, The Chef informed us that not only was he not any better, but he had successfully infected his wife as well.  That’s good strong work there, Chefsie.  We made a few last minute adjustments to the set and (more importantly) had a few more bottles of liquid courage and prepared to bring the noise all “unprepared”-style.

-  The evening began with the great Paul Melancon from Atlanta with his all-star Boston-based band.  They absolutely blew the doors off the place.  Many of the (by then almost sold-out) audience hadn’t seen them before, so I was getting a lot of “Who are these guys?  They’re amazing!  Why haven’t I’ve seen them before?”  I of course informed these people that my restraining order against Paul was only recently lifted by the courts.  Because fuck that guy for being so good.

-  Around 10pm, it was our turn to rock the house in whatever way we could muster.  We started out a little bit soft and sweet with an acoustic duet with Will and myself.  I swear, when you look into that man’s eyes… it’s like a Bing Crosby Christmas in your mother’s womb.  His talent simultaneously thrilling and soothing.  Viola player extraordinaire Beth Holub then joined us for ”February” and a cover of Dire Straits’ “So Far Away” with some impromptu bass and guitar from Will and Jason.

Then, it was time to bring Jason up for some loud rock and some say fucking roll.  Knowing KenDo was going to be out of town, we had rehearsed with the foursome of me, Justin, Tim, and Jason for a few weeks.  I’m not going to lie to you – we were sounding goooooood.  Jason wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to handle both guitar parts on all the songs because he’s, you know, not in the band.  But he’s an annoyingly talented motherfucker and hit it out of the park.  Everyone was coming up to me afterward and talking about what great musical chemistry we had.  They should have seen our smoldering gaga eyes in the green room.  HeyOH!

-  After we managed to put together a good set with only chutzpah and metaphorical duct tape, it was time for The Motion Sick.  They absolutely ripped through a chaotic, high energy set featuring Patrick taking a header into the drum kit and Travis ripping his thumb open and spraying gore everywhere.  You think I’m exaggerating?  Take a look at the aftermath:

Rock and roll, goddamnit.

-  The night was closed out by Oranjuly.  They’re a relatively new band in town, but they’re quickly making a name for themselves with excellent songwriting and killer musicianship in their performances.  At the end of their set, they were kind enough to invite Paul and myself on stage for a version of the Wonders’ “That Thing You Do.”  At that point, I was drunk enough to tell the entire audience that Mike Viola was a douchebag for not paying me when I opened for him several months ago.  And now, I’m apparently drunk enough to post it on my website for all the world to see!  I’m terrific!

You know, creating great nights of rock music isn’t rocket science.  You just get a bunch of great bands who are also really nice people and you throw a party.  Saturday night was one of the more fun parties I’ve thrown in a while.  So thanks to the sold-out audience for making  yet another magical night at the Lizard Lounge.

Thanks to all of you who came by and sold out the Lizard Lounge this Saturday night.  A great show filled with terrific bands and booze-driven peril.  A full recap coming up soon, plus news of the next big show…

Hey all,

Hope you’re all psyched up for the big show at the Lizard Lounge tonight.  We’re getting some nice write-ups from some good folks at the Cheap Thrills and Boston Music Spotlight blogs.  It is nice to have your cheapness spotlighted.

As far as the band goes, Tim “The Chef” Delaney was projectile vomiting as early as this morning, so his participation in tonight’s festivities will be a gametime decision.  Personally, I think the “During what song is Tim going to vomit?” factor could add an extra level of entertainment value to the show tonight.  But I’m kind of sick like that.

No matter what happens with Tim, I guarantee any remaining band members will give you our all to entertain you as we always do.  Doors at 8.30.