Aww, the Kulash is not a morning person. He was so groggy. Living for the nightlife is very Kulash
Didn't he say he'd gotten like, four hours of sleep or something ridiculous like that? And I think that's the time when Damian got incredibly drunk and wandered around NYC at 3 am?
Oh, no, wait, I'm thinking of something else. Nevermind.
Didn't he say he'd gotten like, four hours of sleep or something ridiculous like that? And I think that's the time when Damian got incredibly drunk and wandered around NYC at 3 am?
Oh, no, wait, I'm thinking of something else. Nevermind.
It is not a good idea to wander around NYC incredibly drunk at 3 am. I'd have to send out my possee (sp?) to rescue him if that story were true.
I've heard unconfirmed reports of Mr. Mr. Mr. Jorge, Whom I Adore, Whom I Adore, Whom I Adore and Damian mistaking a fancy upper-west side apartment building for Damian's hotel, somehow getting by the worst doorman ever, walking around the fifth floor for half an hour before banging on some poor lady's door at 3am. Which brings up this service announcement: don't drink and be Damian.
Aww, the Kulash is not a morning person. He was so groggy. Living for the nightlife is very Kulash
Damian seems like an easily angered guy. At the Austin show, I seriously thought he was going to flip out or leave the stage when the crowd surfer kicked the mic stand into his mouth. Well, I guess I'd be pissed, too, but you should have seen the face he made, man, I'd be scared shitless if he ever made that face at me.
I'd be pissed to if someone kicked a mic stand into my mouth. That must hurt! (On the plus side for me, I'd fix any of his poor little damaged teeth). Were you the one who posted that on youtube? Cause when I saw that a literally shouted out, "Poor Damian!"
Haha, then you'd better get on that next time. I've heard unconfirmed reports of Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Jorge, Whom I Adore, Whom I Adore, Whom I Adore, Whom I Adore and Damian mistaking a fancy upper-west side apartment building for Damian's hotel, somehow getting by the worst doorman ever, walking around the fifth floor for half an hour before banging on some poor lady's door at 3am. Which brings up this service announcement: don't drink and be Damian.
Love, Rusty
Haha, yeah, that's the one I was thinking of. That's one of my favourite blog posts. ALSO- is anyone else upset by the lack of blog posting on Andy's part?
I think we need to start a petition here.
QUOTE (HelloLover86 @ Apr 17 2006, 01:31 PM)
Damian seems like an easily angered guy. At the Austin show, I seriously thought he was going to flip out or leave the stage when the crowd surfer kicked the mic stand into his mouth. Well, I guess I'd be pissed, too, but you should have seen the face he made, man, I'd be scared shitless if he ever made that face at me.
Yeah, I feel like Dami can get pretty pissed pretty quickly, crowd-surfer-shoving-mic-stand-in-mouth or not.
Saturday, February 26, 2005 Chapter Nine: Here, There and Underwear
A word to the wise: don't go shopping with Damian. Having got a week and a half into the tour we took the trek to the local Denton shopping mall to pick up socks and underwear. This should be easy. It took me about three minutes to grab what I needed when I noticed Damian intently staring at the underwear rack:
Damian: "Don't you think the selection here is a little weird?" Me: "Uhh, I don't know, why?" Damian: "Like, look at these [picks up a pair of drawers]. It's possible that these will have too much fabric and then you'll just be swimming in it." Me: "OK." Damian: "But these over here [picks up another pair], there's a decent chance they'll be too small, and that you definitely don't want...I mean, Jesus, just get those off of me...you know what I mean?" Me: "I guess." Damian: "I'm just not familiar with their selection." Me: "Dude, it's underwear, who cares?" Damian: "No, I can't deal with this...we have to go somewhere else." Me: "[sigh] Alrighty."
This happened two more times in other department stores (I shit you not). From now on all my interactions with Damian will be non-undergarment related, I promise you.
Love,
Rusty
OR
Friday, October 14, 2005 UK Edition, Chapter 4: Having trouble naming your band? Does anyone love Dr. Nordwind's presence on this blog-piece more than me? Absolutely not. Not only is he a very nice and funny man, but he makes my laziness less apparent. Respek.
(Seinfeld voice) Modern rock band names....what, is the deal, with that!?! (end Seinfeld voice) But seriously, did someone think Omnisoul was a good band name? Avenged Sevenfold? And, not to pick on any one label, but you have to look at the entire roster of Wind-up Records (solo artists and compliations excluded): 12 Stones, Alter Bridge, Atomship, Big Dismal, Breaking Point, Drowning Pool, Evanescence, Finger Eleven, Omnisoul, People in Planes, Seether, Strata, Submersed, The Exit. Save for People in Planes and The Exit, could you possibly cram more melodrama into a list of band names.
To that end we have crafted a list of potential band names for use with your own angst-ridden nu-metal or post-grunge rock outfit. Just plug-and-play!
15 Fist Spite Revolver Chrome Truth Faith Cancer Adrenaline Breakup Detritus Angel Cortex Thorn Logic Stifle Mansion Anabolic Pain Glutton Trounce Glamour Carbon Chapter Tantro Star Shaped Anger Photolux Eve Dealer
The use of any band name requires a 15% finders fee made payable to OK Go (from here on known as "Bleed Cobalt")
Love, Rusty
(PS, Dan is our in-house band name generator. He reserves the right to update or append to this list at any time. Thank you.)
97. Dan is also good at coming up with alternate sports team logos. ...wait, what?
P.S. My favourite blog:
Chapter Forty-Six: Scared Merdeless
Tim and I had a pretty classic commute today, on our way to a meeting with the wonderful people at Yahoo! Music. Tim was driving, which is an adventure all by itself. We were preparing to make a perfectly legal left turn, when out of the bleu comes a crazy French guy on a motorcycle. I can't describe how ridiculous this guy looked... sort of like Zaphod Beeblebrox doing an impression of DJ Qualls, while charging at us at full speed, clearly ignoring the red traffic light that's begging him to stop.
When he finally does see the light, the bastard stops short, leaving us in the middle of the intersection with opposing lanes of traffic barreling down on us at high rates of speed. Tim, bless his heart, was able to back out of the intersection and into the left turn lane with just moments to spare. We sat and we cursed. A lot. It's always fun to curse with Tim, because he does it in perfect high-pitched harmony, just like he sings.
With our light turned green, we were now forced to pass crazy motorcycle guy, for whom I was busily working up my best two-hands-in-the-air, "what the fuck was that?" move, until I noticed him waving at us with a stupid grin on his face. The only reaction my reptilian brain could muster was a middle finger extended in his direction. Remember: Giving in to road rage is always a bad idea.
In a split second the crazy man had u-turned, and was now screaming through my window at me. I couldn't make out every word, but his basic point was this: "Zye tweye to apowogize and zyou give me ze fingeh!!"
I told Tim to step on it, and we took off, weaving through the streets of Hollywood with a crazy biker on our tail. At every traffic light, he would pull up parallel to us, point to the side of the road and scream "Zye don't zyou pull ovah and let me zhow you a fingah!!!"
Which part of this interaction is most ridiculous? a. That he was ready to throw down after receiving the (well-deserved) bird. b. That he actually believed Baldy and Shrimpy Dandy Suit would brawl on the side of the road with him. c. That he used "let me show you a finger" as a threat. d. The post-facto blogging of it.
Finally, he caught up to us at a light, left his bike in the middle of the road and walked up to the car. He bent down and rested his arms on the bottom of Tim's open window while leaning his head into the car to give Tim a not-too-subtle warning: "Zyou bettah tell zyour fwiend he should be careful where he puts his fingahs!!" In a stroke of genius, frustration and fear, Tim turned to our assailant, looked him in the eye, and, at the top of his lungs, yelled "WE'RE LATE FOR A MEETING!" before flooring it to freedom.
In retrospect, I'm really happy all this happened.
Comments
Aww, the Kulash is not a morning person. He was so groggy. Living for the nightlife is very Kulash
Who is a morning person? I mean really. I would much rather stay up till 4 am watching infomercials then go to bed at 8 to get up at 5.
ergh, that would suck, and that's why i'm not in radio. a job with times like that is training people to become senior citizens.
or in the military....
Didn't he say he'd gotten like, four hours of sleep or something ridiculous like that? And I think that's the time when Damian got incredibly drunk and wandered around NYC at 3 am?
Oh, no, wait, I'm thinking of something else. Nevermind.
Oh, no, wait, I'm thinking of something else. Nevermind.
It is not a good idea to wander around NYC incredibly drunk at 3 am. I'd have to send out my possee (sp?) to rescue him if that story were true.
I've heard unconfirmed reports of Mr. Mr. Mr. Jorge, Whom I Adore, Whom I Adore, Whom I Adore and Damian mistaking a fancy upper-west side apartment building for Damian's hotel, somehow getting by the worst doorman ever, walking around the fifth floor for half an hour before banging on some poor lady's door at 3am. Which brings up this service announcement: don't drink and be Damian.
Love,
Rusty
Damian seems like an easily angered guy. At the Austin show, I seriously thought he was going to flip out or leave the stage when the crowd surfer kicked the mic stand into his mouth. Well, I guess I'd be pissed, too, but you should have seen the face he made, man, I'd be scared shitless if he ever made that face at me.
I've heard unconfirmed reports of Mr. Mr. Mr. Mr. Jorge, Whom I Adore, Whom I Adore, Whom I Adore, Whom I Adore and Damian mistaking a fancy upper-west side apartment building for Damian's hotel, somehow getting by the worst doorman ever, walking around the fifth floor for half an hour before banging on some poor lady's door at 3am. Which brings up this service announcement: don't drink and be Damian.
Love,
Rusty
Haha, yeah, that's the one I was thinking of. That's one of my favourite blog posts. ALSO- is anyone else upset by the lack of blog posting on Andy's part?
I think we need to start a petition here.
Yeah, I feel like Dami can get pretty pissed pretty quickly, crowd-surfer-shoving-mic-stand-in-mouth or not.
YES. AND TIM.
My favorite blog is either when Andy and Damian go buy underwear or the one with emo band names. Tee hee.
Chapter Nine: Here, There and Underwear
A word to the wise: don't go shopping with Damian. Having got a week and a half into the tour we took the trek to the local Denton shopping mall to pick up socks and underwear. This should be easy. It took me about three minutes to grab what I needed when I noticed Damian intently staring at the underwear rack:
Damian: "Don't you think the selection here is a little weird?"
Me: "Uhh, I don't know, why?"
Damian: "Like, look at these [picks up a pair of drawers]. It's possible that these will have too much fabric and then you'll just be swimming in it."
Me: "OK."
Damian: "But these over here [picks up another pair], there's a decent chance they'll be too small, and that you definitely don't want...I mean, Jesus, just get those off of me...you know what I mean?"
Me: "I guess."
Damian: "I'm just not familiar with their selection."
Me: "Dude, it's underwear, who cares?"
Damian: "No, I can't deal with this...we have to go somewhere else."
Me: "[sigh] Alrighty."
This happened two more times in other department stores (I shit you not). From now on all my interactions with Damian will be non-undergarment related, I promise you.
Love,
Rusty
OR
Friday, October 14, 2005
UK Edition, Chapter 4: Having trouble naming your band?
Does anyone love Dr. Nordwind's presence on this blog-piece more than me? Absolutely not. Not only is he a very nice and funny man, but he makes my laziness less apparent. Respek.
(Seinfeld voice) Modern rock band names....what, is the deal, with that!?! (end Seinfeld voice) But seriously, did someone think Omnisoul was a good band name? Avenged Sevenfold? And, not to pick on any one label, but you have to look at the entire roster of Wind-up Records (solo artists and compliations excluded): 12 Stones, Alter Bridge, Atomship, Big Dismal, Breaking Point, Drowning Pool, Evanescence, Finger Eleven, Omnisoul, People in Planes, Seether, Strata, Submersed, The Exit. Save for People in Planes and The Exit, could you possibly cram more melodrama into a list of band names.
To that end we have crafted a list of potential band names for use with your own angst-ridden nu-metal or post-grunge rock outfit. Just plug-and-play!
15 Fist
Spite Revolver
Chrome Truth
Faith Cancer
Adrenaline Breakup
Detritus
Angel Cortex
Thorn Logic
Stifle Mansion
Anabolic
Pain Glutton
Trounce Glamour
Carbon Chapter
Tantro
Star Shaped Anger
Photolux
Eve Dealer
The use of any band name requires a 15% finders fee made payable to OK Go (from here on known as "Bleed Cobalt")
Love,
Rusty
(PS, Dan is our in-house band name generator. He reserves the right to update or append to this list at any time. Thank you.)
96. OK Go have unoffiicially changed their name to Bleed Cobalt. Haha.
AND alternate sports team logos.
97. Dan is also good at coming up with alternate sports team logos.
...wait, what?
I have it recorded on a tape..so if I have time soon I'll just record it with my camera or something and put it up.
...wait, what?
P.S. My favourite blog:
Chapter Forty-Six: Scared Merdeless
Tim and I had a pretty classic commute today, on our way to a meeting with the wonderful people at Yahoo! Music. Tim was driving, which is an adventure all by itself. We were preparing to make a perfectly legal left turn, when out of the bleu comes a crazy French guy on a motorcycle. I can't describe how ridiculous this guy looked... sort of like Zaphod Beeblebrox doing an impression of DJ Qualls, while charging at us at full speed, clearly ignoring the red traffic light that's begging him to stop.
When he finally does see the light, the bastard stops short, leaving us in the middle of the intersection with opposing lanes of traffic barreling down on us at high rates of speed. Tim, bless his heart, was able to back out of the intersection and into the left turn lane with just moments to spare. We sat and we cursed. A lot. It's always fun to curse with Tim, because he does it in perfect high-pitched harmony, just like he sings.
With our light turned green, we were now forced to pass crazy motorcycle guy, for whom I was busily working up my best two-hands-in-the-air, "what the fuck was that?" move, until I noticed him waving at us with a stupid grin on his face. The only reaction my reptilian brain could muster was a middle finger extended in his direction. Remember: Giving in to road rage is always a bad idea.
In a split second the crazy man had u-turned, and was now screaming through my window at me. I couldn't make out every word, but his basic point was this: "Zye tweye to apowogize and zyou give me ze fingeh!!"
I told Tim to step on it, and we took off, weaving through the streets of Hollywood with a crazy biker on our tail. At every traffic light, he would pull up parallel to us, point to the side of the road and scream "Zye don't zyou pull ovah and let me zhow you a fingah!!!"
Which part of this interaction is most ridiculous?
a. That he was ready to throw down after receiving the (well-deserved) bird.
b. That he actually believed Baldy and Shrimpy Dandy Suit would brawl on the side of the road with him.
c. That he used "let me show you a finger" as a threat.
d. The post-facto blogging of it.
Finally, he caught up to us at a light, left his bike in the middle of the road and walked up to the car. He bent down and rested his arms on the bottom of Tim's open window while leaning his head into the car to give Tim a not-too-subtle warning: "Zyou bettah tell zyour fwiend he should be careful where he puts his fingahs!!" In a stroke of genius, frustration and fear, Tim turned to our assailant, looked him in the eye, and, at the top of his lungs, yelled "WE'RE LATE FOR A MEETING!" before flooring it to freedom.
In retrospect, I'm really happy all this happened.