Friday, April 13, 2012

Old age

These songs are basically the same song. And I like that Janelle Monae weasled her way into fun.'s awesome anthem, because they toured together and Monae was the headlining act. Now, if they ran that tour back, they'd swap roles, and Monae would open. But that has to hit her as an artist to be going around the country, and this band you've taken under your wing jumps up and puts together a chorus (that, as it turns out, fun. gave up on trying to fit naturally into the song. they just decided to burst into it and vanish away from it because, hell, if you had thought of that chorus, you wouldn't care whether you flow in or out of it. you'd just blast it loudly and repeatedly. well handled, fun.) that rockets it into the forefront of pop-culture — the chorus is that catchy. And so Monae, who has put together an awesome career founded on a peppy jazzy sound and pleasantly enigmatic personality (thinking Gwen Stefani, whose part in the duet "I Saw Red" with Sublime's Brad Nowell hardly resembles the musical artistry responsible for "Hollaback Girl"), sees fun. grab pop dollars while she gets by being a unique independent act. Ain't that some shit. Fun. politely provides Monae with some backing vocals cred, which is the reason I am listening to her now. She's fun. No pun intended, because that wouldn't make sense.

Anyway, the songs are both about "hey, we're old now, but let's put an effort for like six hours into pretending we aren't old and don't live with the inhibiting responsibilities that come with old age." And that's how I feel whenever I write a thought-out, engaging Classic Brian post. My era of soapbox blog posts, so emo in nature, is over. Now, I'm not undermining every post I've ever dropped on the blogspot (blot), because I stand by the things I've written here, and I love them, as they are a part of me growing up. And I'm not "grown up" now, though it seems like I'm trying to say that. I've just run out of ideas to blare on about, maybe only temporarily, but still.

For instance, it's Friday. What? I post Wednesdays. But, there's a clear path from Tuesday (hats off to Brendan) and I was legitimately busy on Wednesday until I became very exhausted. I went to Busch Stadium to cover a baseball game Wednesday and it was unbelievable. I was running across the grounds in between innings to get new angles on pictures I was taking (horribly). And while it's a great experience for our baseball team to get to play on Busch, I feel even cooler for getting the opportunity to report from it. Hell, I didn't even have to lose (5-4 to Missouri). Oh hell, there's an idea. I want to do it justice (and on a Wednesday) so I'll do it next week. But hopefully this writing here assures that I don't forget.

I miss the days of checking CB's stats to peep pageviews, and wishing that this blog would become a cult hit — which was always a pipe dream, no worries. But you who have read this blog from the start, I love you more literally every week. I keep getting older, taking on more responsibilities (college is progressing well in that regard) and losing time to write about the seconds I used to have but now spend preparing for how to spend the next seconds.

I used to text other CB members to try and keep everyone on top of it. I had ideas, hell we had a guest week, implying that we were people to fill in for. That was my idea, and I spent showers thinking about it. These beautiful posts I once penned, crafted with everything I had are now backwash of my time, not what I call upon to showcase my writing skills and altogether the equivalent of an old friend who wouldn't be your friend anymore if he hadn't always been your friend. It saddens me to think about, which I don't do all that often.

--Eliot Sill

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

Monday, April 9, 2012

Nick - Two Gallants

No, play the video first. This text comes second.

Okay cool. The rugged blond guy there is Adam Stephens. Notice that he isn't just holding chords, his playing is ridiculously intricate. And, while he's doing that, he's also singing with one of my favorite voices ever.

IN ADDITION, his lyrics are gorgeous and he's playing harmonica when he's not singing.

In fact, all my chips are down. Adam Stephens is my mancrush. No other man will do.

Now turn your attention to the drummer. I've always fantasized that Adam Stephens found a time machine and went back in time to find a caveman with perfect rhythm to drum for him. Enter Tyson Vogel.

Tyson, you may notice, is rocking harder than I've probably ever rocked, and he's doing so using a tambourine as a drum stick. HE'S PLAYING DRUMS AND TAMBOURINE AT THE SAME TIME.

That is not a simple drum part, either. But if that wasn't enough, wait until the last verse. He's singing. HE'S PLAYING DRUMS AND TAMBOURINE AND SINGING AT THE SAME TIME.

The two of them singing that last line together is perfect. It's so beautiful, so passionate, so forlorn.

"I don't need nobody; nobody needs me."

That's it, ladies and gentlemen; that's the final word. We can all die now.


Sunday, April 8, 2012

Robert - Unforgivable

Roommates, what is this?

Did you think I wouldn't notice? Did you think this wouldn't irreparably ruin my toilet experience? What kind of sick joke are you getting off on?

This is not how you put toilet paper on a toilet paper spinner. It would've been so easy, so easy, to flip it around before attaching it, and you know it. Are you mad because I haven't bought toilet paper in a while? Because I brought two fresh rolls from home after break, and believe me, they're so thick and soft it's like wiping with a marshmallow,* which more than makes up for the lack of quantity of rolls. You probably noticed when there was about a week there when our toilet paper didn't immediately dissolve upon human touch. Where did you think that toilet paper came from?

Is it because I haven't done the dishes in a while? Because that's completely unrelated, and if that's the case, then you're sending confusing messages.

It can't be because you're simply not intelligent enough to realize the difference between a forward-rolling roll and a backward-rolling roll. I'm sure you're just as frustrated as I am when you have to occasionally reach those extra inches to the little butt crack created by the intersection of roll and wall and pull out toilet paper from underneath. It's just an unattractive look, honestly. Who's still going to want to go to the bathroom after they walk in and see that? Not me, and that's why I simply haven't for the last few days.** It's getting uncomfortable. Please change it.

You really know how to hurt me, roommates. Do it right.

*Except less sticky
**Conor, we should also go 7 days without bathrooms this summer