I've made a few changes... There's some links at the bottom, now and a top-link to an old web page of mine. Also, I've made an active link to some pictures of me, as discussed eariler. (Thanks, Llew...)
I cleaned the hovel today.
This site is becoming quite a passion, what with me tinkering about with said links and learning basic html.
I went to my restaraunt today for cheap food. As we were talking -- me and the folks on shift -- I made the comment that I would like to be pale and scrawny. They all laughed, like I was joking. I'm not. I should quite like to be.
Today is Viva's show on WXDU, 4 -6 pm (88.7 FM). I called in requests for The Smiths and Belle and Sebastian. None were played, though it were promised. Just as well, really. I've got *all* the B&S a man could ask for, and more Smiths than is rational for a man in the Noughties (Anglicism for the Day).
Dr Who of the Day: The Green Death, parts 1-3. Giant maggots and Welshmen, boyo. All t'folk remember o'this'un. Pertwee's outfit is much less engaging/desirable... dark brown velvet w/ orange trim and a plaid button-up cloak. Yuck... Even the Nuthutch hippies are a bit dull. Props for the Ecological concern, circa 1973, though... Other heroes = not as forward thinking...I can't get het up about Jo getting savaged by the Giant Maggot at the end of Part 3, though...
Reason Llew rocks, No. 3: Teaching me how to make active links... So go visit them all: Elmo's, wxdu, wxyc, Llew herself, more me...
Book of the Day: still Pickwick Papers, Book X.
Saturday, August 24, 2002
Friday, August 23, 2002
Who-hoo. I talked to Indie Girl Prime tonight. (Read: Christina Rentz, a most perfect young lady.) An actual real conversation 'twas, including people we know and actual Indie Music. Spoon, Flaming Lips, et al. She seemed in her usual indefatiguable style.
We even talked about people who may -- or may not-- appear at her birthday celebrations. Dr Scott Crichlow, for one, Gentle Reader. What do I think of that? Not sure. P'raps (thank'ee Dickens) I should wait til this *some random person* phase passes away... No, I think *some random person* has so many more points than Dr C.
Alas, the last ever performance of the band Milo is tonight. Having solidly failed to ever grace them with my presence before, I have been asked to show up tonight. I should, as I think their guitarist Andrew Klinghorn is quite Fab and a good guy to boot. An old-time Elmo-ite: he even trained me. He gave me a copy of their EP. Quite good, even if bordering on mainstream. Go buy it: Even If You Knew the Language.
It's not Belle and Sebastian, but what is? (Except faux things as The Gentle Waves and Reindeer Section, which each have their own perfections...)
Peace out, boyz...
We even talked about people who may -- or may not-- appear at her birthday celebrations. Dr Scott Crichlow, for one, Gentle Reader. What do I think of that? Not sure. P'raps (thank'ee Dickens) I should wait til this *some random person* phase passes away... No, I think *some random person* has so many more points than Dr C.
Alas, the last ever performance of the band Milo is tonight. Having solidly failed to ever grace them with my presence before, I have been asked to show up tonight. I should, as I think their guitarist Andrew Klinghorn is quite Fab and a good guy to boot. An old-time Elmo-ite: he even trained me. He gave me a copy of their EP. Quite good, even if bordering on mainstream. Go buy it: Even If You Knew the Language.
It's not Belle and Sebastian, but what is? (Except faux things as The Gentle Waves and Reindeer Section, which each have their own perfections...)
Peace out, boyz...
So, Murphy the Wonder Cat is alive and well after his bath. Looking quite sleek and fit as well, I should say.
Quite the picture of health.
Speaking of pictures, you may have noticed that are none of me about. This is deliberate. I'm quite homely. How lucky was I that BlogSpot, our lovely host, won't countenance photos?
Enter the Llew. I am even now informed that pictures of me exist on the net. But she's devious, that Laura. She got me to look at these pictures by making sure other people are in them. Ooo er, I'll look at that pic of *some random person.* "Ooh. There's me and all," I think.
The pic she sent me of only me, privately, burnt my eyes out. Just as well: I shall sell violets at the corner of Rosemary and Cameron in lovely downtown Chapel Hill.
You, however, can see these pictures, as there is no immediate way to tell who is me and who is *some random person*. Go to www.jaynagyphoto.com/jayandg.JPG and www.jaynagyphoto.com/jayandg2.JPG .
Interesting fact: I am not the Jay Nagy of jaynagyphoto.com. Though we may be almost equally bitter, he is much cooler than jaylemurph.
Promised philosophical thought: This has been floating around in my brain for a bit, so hold on.I've been thinking about language and personal diction of late. I thought to myself the other day the expression "jesusfuckinchrist" about 15,000 times (I was at work) and realized that, as one word, it was my own creation. This got me to thinking of all the expressions I use and how almost all of them relate back to somebody in my life. Many of these people are long gone, but that little piece of language of thiers remains in my ideolect as souvenirs of my time with them.
Among these are: "True, Dat" from a trip with Darren to Atlanta not too very long ago. Sometimes I'm afraid
I may never hear from him again.
"Whoot." Laura Llew, and look how little time I've knowm this incarnation of loveliness.
"Wow... Take me back, 1984..." (as regards to some dated reference) Kollist, my freshman dorm roommate.
"Wheee." (in a very high pitched girly voice) Tim, the other dorm roommate I had.
And let's just ignore the stuff from my parents that slips out ONLY BY ACCIDENT.
It goes on and on, till sometimes I think I exist only as a reference to the memory of the people in my life. I wish more of them were around. In the end though, it makes me glad I've got something to remember them by, even if I never clap eyes on them again.
Though... Do they do that with me? Maybe remember my wit or some expression I use(d)? I'm not even aware of any expression I use frequently, but I'm sure there is one. Oh well...
Reason Laura Llew rocks two: She sent me a book. A Month in the Country by J L Carr. Now go out and read it. Right now. It's great. It's even got art history in it. And mad vocabulary words. I went to the dictionary like 20 times. *Swoons* I am deeply in love with anyone who would send me stuff in the mail.
But Only In the Good Way. I Am Not a Pyscho Proclaiming My Love At Random Or Planning Grievous Bodily Harm.
She should know that. I merely greatly admire her virtue, which, as Cicero reminds us in the De Amicitia (with a long a), is the foundation of the truest love. Alien or otherwise.
Dr Who of the Day: Planet of the Daleks, parts 4,5 and 6.
Did I mention Pertwee was also wearing black leather gloves? *Swoons a bit more* He could be suffering from The Vapours with all this swooning. Latep is also very cute. But then again, when have I not fell for a sensitive, scrawny English boy? Pity they painted that one Dalek black... It's glaringly obvious in every scene the dead Dalek is up and running again... But to balance it, the old Dalek Movie Prop Dalek (gold, black and silver) with the funky headlights is still kewl -- as befits one of the Supreme Council, I reckon...
Book of the day: Still The Pickwick Papers, Book X. Samivel Weller rules.
I've been thinking of how to refer to you, audience people. I mean, isn't that the crux of direction? I like the idea of the Austenian "Gentle Reader" and to refer to myself as the "Humble hero." What'd ya think?
Quite the picture of health.
Speaking of pictures, you may have noticed that are none of me about. This is deliberate. I'm quite homely. How lucky was I that BlogSpot, our lovely host, won't countenance photos?
Enter the Llew. I am even now informed that pictures of me exist on the net. But she's devious, that Laura. She got me to look at these pictures by making sure other people are in them. Ooo er, I'll look at that pic of *some random person.* "Ooh. There's me and all," I think.
The pic she sent me of only me, privately, burnt my eyes out. Just as well: I shall sell violets at the corner of Rosemary and Cameron in lovely downtown Chapel Hill.
You, however, can see these pictures, as there is no immediate way to tell who is me and who is *some random person*. Go to www.jaynagyphoto.com/jayandg.JPG and www.jaynagyphoto.com/jayandg2.JPG .
Interesting fact: I am not the Jay Nagy of jaynagyphoto.com. Though we may be almost equally bitter, he is much cooler than jaylemurph.
Promised philosophical thought: This has been floating around in my brain for a bit, so hold on.I've been thinking about language and personal diction of late. I thought to myself the other day the expression "jesusfuckinchrist" about 15,000 times (I was at work) and realized that, as one word, it was my own creation. This got me to thinking of all the expressions I use and how almost all of them relate back to somebody in my life. Many of these people are long gone, but that little piece of language of thiers remains in my ideolect as souvenirs of my time with them.
Among these are: "True, Dat" from a trip with Darren to Atlanta not too very long ago. Sometimes I'm afraid
I may never hear from him again.
"Whoot." Laura Llew, and look how little time I've knowm this incarnation of loveliness.
"Wow... Take me back, 1984..." (as regards to some dated reference) Kollist, my freshman dorm roommate.
"Wheee." (in a very high pitched girly voice) Tim, the other dorm roommate I had.
And let's just ignore the stuff from my parents that slips out ONLY BY ACCIDENT.
It goes on and on, till sometimes I think I exist only as a reference to the memory of the people in my life. I wish more of them were around. In the end though, it makes me glad I've got something to remember them by, even if I never clap eyes on them again.
Though... Do they do that with me? Maybe remember my wit or some expression I use(d)? I'm not even aware of any expression I use frequently, but I'm sure there is one. Oh well...
Reason Laura Llew rocks two: She sent me a book. A Month in the Country by J L Carr. Now go out and read it. Right now. It's great. It's even got art history in it. And mad vocabulary words. I went to the dictionary like 20 times. *Swoons* I am deeply in love with anyone who would send me stuff in the mail.
But Only In the Good Way. I Am Not a Pyscho Proclaiming My Love At Random Or Planning Grievous Bodily Harm.
She should know that. I merely greatly admire her virtue, which, as Cicero reminds us in the De Amicitia (with a long a), is the foundation of the truest love. Alien or otherwise.
Dr Who of the Day: Planet of the Daleks, parts 4,5 and 6.
Did I mention Pertwee was also wearing black leather gloves? *Swoons a bit more* He could be suffering from The Vapours with all this swooning. Latep is also very cute. But then again, when have I not fell for a sensitive, scrawny English boy? Pity they painted that one Dalek black... It's glaringly obvious in every scene the dead Dalek is up and running again... But to balance it, the old Dalek Movie Prop Dalek (gold, black and silver) with the funky headlights is still kewl -- as befits one of the Supreme Council, I reckon...
Book of the day: Still The Pickwick Papers, Book X. Samivel Weller rules.
I've been thinking of how to refer to you, audience people. I mean, isn't that the crux of direction? I like the idea of the Austenian "Gentle Reader" and to refer to myself as the "Humble hero." What'd ya think?
So, my friend at work, Audrey, said she thought of me this summer.
She was away in Connecticut, working in another restaraunt.
"Jay," she says, "There was nobody like you in the place I worked."
She also later said they were all attractive, happy people at that place.
I'll take what she said as a compliment, though I'm not sure it was.
I'll take what I can, you know?
I'm not happy and attractive?!
She was away in Connecticut, working in another restaraunt.
"Jay," she says, "There was nobody like you in the place I worked."
She also later said they were all attractive, happy people at that place.
I'll take what she said as a compliment, though I'm not sure it was.
I'll take what I can, you know?
I'm not happy and attractive?!
Thursday, August 22, 2002
Well, I think that this may just work as a blog site.
I feel like all the cool kids, now. At long, long last.
Today's big task (other than creating this site) was bathing Murphy the Wonder Cat.
He'd got fleas, you see. I don't know from where: he hasn't been outside since I brought him home from the pound. Someone suggested *I* brought home the fleas.
*I* do not have vermin.
Murphy hated his bath.
I hated his bath.
He mewled like I was beating him senseless.
I bitched like a sailor in pain.
In the end, Murph was free from fleas, but small, angry and pathetic. He's a small cat anyway and soaked he looked all puny. Afterwards, he ran into his corner in the utility closet and glared at me till I went ot the gym. God only knows what he'll do when I go to sleep.
Oh well.
Tomorrow is my day off, so I'll write up something deep and philosophically satisfying.
Reason why Laura Llew rocks, number one: In her US Sinister (there'll be Sinister link soon enough) Tape
Twee, she includes one of the few Smiths songs I don't already have, Meet Me at the Cemetary Gate.
Bet you didn't know that.
Question: Is the Boy G a dish?
Answer: *mulls it over a bit* Hmm, I don't think I'll show my hand yet.
Doctor Who of the Day: Planet of the Daleks, parts two and three.
Pertwee's Maroon velvet suit (single breasted), frilly purple shirt and paisley bow tie rawk my world. I would wear that ensemble to the Orange County Social Club or Henry's. But then, I can pull off velvet.
Book of the Day: Still The Pickwick Papers. Now: Book X.
I feel like all the cool kids, now. At long, long last.
Today's big task (other than creating this site) was bathing Murphy the Wonder Cat.
He'd got fleas, you see. I don't know from where: he hasn't been outside since I brought him home from the pound. Someone suggested *I* brought home the fleas.
*I* do not have vermin.
Murphy hated his bath.
I hated his bath.
He mewled like I was beating him senseless.
I bitched like a sailor in pain.
In the end, Murph was free from fleas, but small, angry and pathetic. He's a small cat anyway and soaked he looked all puny. Afterwards, he ran into his corner in the utility closet and glared at me till I went ot the gym. God only knows what he'll do when I go to sleep.
Oh well.
Tomorrow is my day off, so I'll write up something deep and philosophically satisfying.
Reason why Laura Llew rocks, number one: In her US Sinister (there'll be Sinister link soon enough) Tape
Twee, she includes one of the few Smiths songs I don't already have, Meet Me at the Cemetary Gate.
Bet you didn't know that.
Question: Is the Boy G a dish?
Answer: *mulls it over a bit* Hmm, I don't think I'll show my hand yet.
Doctor Who of the Day: Planet of the Daleks, parts two and three.
Pertwee's Maroon velvet suit (single breasted), frilly purple shirt and paisley bow tie rawk my world. I would wear that ensemble to the Orange County Social Club or Henry's. But then, I can pull off velvet.
Book of the Day: Still The Pickwick Papers. Now: Book X.
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