To-Go Pitchers

Loretta Lynn ft. Jack White - Portland, Oregon *

Miike Snow - Animal 

Gayngs - Spanish Platinum **

Bon Iver Bruised  - Orange (Chain Of Sorrow) (John Prine Cover) *

Winter Heart

Her departure had turned his heart to winter, leaving him in the cold fall of gray snow, isolated in the confines of the cabin. He would pass time with the Murphy blade his father had given him, whittling the features of forest mammals, believing that some part of his soul would identify. The hemlocks that surrounded the cabin also provided him distraction, for in the early light he would immerse himself in cutting those trees that had the diseased ends of blight and curled twigs. Brief moments of solace were found during such projects, as his mind would carry in to other stretches of his being, happily lost in the swinging of an axe or the sharpening of a blade. He kept a low fire in the furnace throughout the day, only to strengthen the blue of the flame when the night frost would blanket the frigid valley. The apex of the furnace was four feet from floor level, wafting out the hard smell of wintry timbers across the floor to the quilted crate where he slept. On the coldest of evenings, he would slide under an extra sheepskin and into wool socks, with hopes of passing the night through without chilly interruption. But it was the mornings that were the hardest, feeling stiff and alone without her. He didn’t know how to rejuvenate his sense of self or purpose, dwindling more and more with the passing of the season until he had become a man immersed in bearded delusion and confinement. He would often take the bolt action Winchester on foot in to the heart of the deep pine country, muttering vulgarly while blasting the weapon in to the trees as if to exact revenge on someone or something. The bleak days and iced nights of the winter froze together, as he sank further and further in to the cold. Yet his sadness wasn't eternally bound to him. While tending to the furnace one night, his wool coat caught as it scraped the volcanic coals nestled in the chimney, immediately ripping with a vibrant spark of ocher. He shed the coat quickly from his shoulders, turning swiftly to stomp it out with his boots. He found no joy, as he ran to retrieve buckets of snow from the porch that had been left there to melt during the day for morning tea. But it was too late, as the old cabin caught fire, its wooden structure falling in upon its aged build, corner by corner, the northwest patch of roof caving first. He ran out in to the night, turning in the foreground to stare wide-eyed at the cabin as it poured thousands of embers in to the black sky. And there he was, standing under the elms and hemlocks, watching it burn until it was nothing but a smoky ashen crush of blackened timbers. There was nothing he could do, but listen to the pops of heat and the passing cry of the Bozeman train, that called miles from his smoldering cabin, as dawn seeped quietly into the valley. He took a seat upon the stump of a birch and watched the morning sun rise as it beckoned down upon him. He'd been in the valley too long, bereaving her absence, he thought. But the fall of his recluse meant only one thing to him: time to move on. He rose from the stump, dusted the ash from the frayed sleeves of his wool-night shirt and began walking out of the valley toward the sun, where the pulse of the rail bellowed not too far in the distance.

Bon Iver - Calgary (Cillo Remix) 

S. Carey - In The Dirt 

Hans Zimmer - Now We Are Free (Juba's Version)

My Morning Jacket - Dondante

Little Bighorn

Rufus Wainwright - Tiergarten (Supermayer Remix) 

The Tallest Man On Earth - Little River 

Discovery - I Want You Back

Beach House - Norway (Dkon Remix) 

Little River Band - Reminiscing

Alberta, Canada

Bon Iver's record company pulled off the tracks to the new CD, so they are far away and gone, at least for now. But here are some legal eagle Fleet Foxes for you to cope with.

Fleet Foxes - Battery Kinzie

Fleet Foxes - Bedouin Dress 

Fleet Foxes - Grown Ocean

 

They're Back.

Seattle Footsoldiers

Common Market ft. Funklove - Nina Sing

Brother Ali - Take Me Home

Blue Scholars - Lumiere

Sonicsgate: Requiem for a Team [FULL MOVIE]

X & Y Chromosomes

Bob Schneider - 40 Dogs (Like Romeo and Juliet)

Michael Buble - Crazy Love

Discovery - So Insane 

Pat Green - Crazy 

Two Door Cinema Club x Coldplay -What You Know In My Place

Chris Brown (Cover) - Forever

Phoenix Stories: The Willys MB

The morning light eased itself across the lawn and through the folds of the window shade, falling slowly from the pane to the wooden headboard where Bruce lay sleeping. The change in color overtook his eyelids as he gradually awoke, releasing a yawn of quiet Sunday satisfaction. He wiped the corners of his eyes and admired the fairy-like dust that floated through the beam of sunlight in front of the far window. He had always enjoyed watching it flutter during the light moments of the early morning; but the glimmer of this particular day was accompanied by an elevated sense of happiness. He sat there a moment, reveling in the quietness of it while subtly contemplating a return to the pleasantries of sleep; but his excitement could not be kept at bay any longer for the events that were to transpire today had been two years in the making. In some distant frame of his mind, he thought of his late Uncle, laughing with a booming heart and familial pride from another world. A moment more could not be wasted, he thought - springing from the bed in to his oiled Carhartts, worn Sauconys and the frayed shirt of his Alma mater. He headed toward the pantry and conjured up a light breakfast, washing it down with a shot of pulp-free OJ, as he headed across the back lawn to the cluttered one-car garage. The cramped 10x12 workstation had been both a hideaway and a paradise. There was a work bench, two jacks, a trolley, a multitude of oils, greasers, lubricants, waxes, finishes, paints and caulks, along with an air pressure gauge, a case of sandpaper, two boxes of tools and a crate filled with Mason jars containing nuts, bolts, nails, screws and washers. He had also placed a tiny fridge near the entry-door that contained a constantly revolving supply of string cheese, power bars, Gatorade, and two packs of blue collar beer, which he rewarded himself with only on the rarest of occasions. The walls had run plain and threadbare since he had started the project, with the exception of the two Crawford posters that faced the floor from the ceiling, making for a nice view when working from the trolley. His Honda Civic had been neglected to the the street in front of the house since the beginning of '09, and had even drawn complaints from the neighbors, who felt it hindered their driveway accessibility. As he eased toward the light-switch that depended upon the tug of the hanging tennis ball, he felt a rush of excitement take over as he gave it a wide-eyed pull. And there she was. A rustic red, with aged slabs of iron across the hood, her windshield conjoined down the center with a forged strip of steel. The fenders atop her new tires shielded the car from femininity, broadening the build - looking as if it were a man from the era - shoulders broad, back straight, head held high and proud. The moment had come abruptly as he stood there looking at the Willys MB Army Jeep that his Uncle had left him. What had once been issued to returning soldiers from the European Theater was on the verge of being back in operation after having sat idly for the past 40 years. He walked across the hood, inspecting it inch by inch, making his way to the raw grip of the steering wheel that jutted out from the left side of the dash. With his palms stretched outward, he sat in the driver-side seat and wrapped his leather fingers around the grips. He savored the moment, noting the remaining tasks that needed to be accomplished. He went back in to the house and pulled the recently issued license plates from the file cabinet behind his desk chair, along with the registration and proceeded back to the garage. There, he lifted the spare oil drum in to the bed and fastened the plates in the front and rear. He felt that the rusted tint of the Arizona plates complemented her well. He turned toward the garage door and rolled it up in to the ceiling, as a white ray of sunlight blanketed his proud figure. It was a magnificent moment. He stood there, looking out at the street and the high hills beyond the houses that lined it. The time is now, he thought to himself. As he pulled out of his Mesa suburb and on to Interstate-10, he could feel the highway wind ripping through his hair. The sun sat above the red rocks of Phoenix as he pushed the pedal down to the floorboard, accelerating past the array of vacationers headed to Las Vegas and Palm Springs. He knew that he ran the risk of overheating once he entered the desert floor passed Avondale and Buckeye, but something felt right about pushing the envelope. As he passed the cities outlying suburbs, he fell in tune with her, humming along with a thundering pulse - the powerful vibration of the Willys MB punching along the interstate just as it had in 1944.

Matchbox 20 - Unwell 

Muddy Water - Worried Mind (Jeremy Sole remix) 

The Black Keys - The Only One

Max Stalling - I Could Be Wrong

Sarasota Vines

Bob Dylan - The NY Sessions 

Usin' Bathrooms

One particular night, a group of us film students got out of the theatre show early and decided to take the tube across town in to the heart of the club scene. We’d just seen a London playhouse rendition of Priscilla Queen of the Desert and naturally felt inclined to get out on the town and have a few quaffs. Some of the other residents at the dorm had been raving about Champion Sports Bar across the street from Tiger Tiger and had told us that tonight is 1£ beer night, so naturally we are all in. The 1£ beers were awfully poor in taste, but when I caught wind that there would be a pong tourney on the second floor, I made a financially savvy decision to go ahead with the cheap beer and enter the contest, with ultimate hopes of getting maniacally inebriated, while spending as little dough as possible. I had Ichabod Crane for a partner, an annoying and fidgety human being named Calvin who was in the Comm. School with me at TCU. The picking for partners was very slim. Nevertheless, we hit the sign-up sheet and were called up for the first game. There were a multitude of women from our program there, and it felt most honorable to be representing our group before them; however, they all soon lost interest, said their respective we’ll see you back at the dorms and were on their way. While it was a small blow, it didn’t last long. Before we knew it, Calvin and I had won three games and the place was getting packed with participants and onlookers, of all nationalities. The beer kept coming, as did the wins. What had started at merely 9:30 pm had run to 2:45am. And we never lost. We won every single game and ultimately the tournament, each of us awarded with a 50£ bar tab for the following Wednesday. I somehow managed to find my way home via cab and somehow managed to find my way to my dorm. Unfortunately, I did not find my way to the bathroom and took care of my business all over my roommates backpack, bed sheets and a corner of his desk. When my professors came upstairs the next morning to chew me out, I acted as though nothing had happened, because in my mind, nothing had. As far as I knew, I was a reigning pong champ. A reigning international pong champ, teach! Dr. McGettigan proceeded to give me a strong chewing later that day, along with a verbal warning: “I’ll send your ass home so fast if you f*** up again, John Baumann.” Needless to say I didn’t f**** up again, but I most certainly had many more wonderful evenings. Just had to, you know, keep it in control.
Ah, to be young.

Oasis - Don't Look Back in Anger *walked in to a bar in Edinburgh and this place was being sung as if an anthem; chilling, awesome experience

Bob Dylan - Meet Me In The Morning **shout out to Sellin' Belts

Stevie Ray Vaughn- Mary Had A Little Lamb

Bob Dylan - Can't Help Falling in Love **

None Sad

Ben Folds - Bitches Ain't Shit 

Fleet Foxes vs Of Montreal. Juanpopp Handmade 

Big Gigantic - Sky High*

Two Door Cinema Club - Something Good Can Work *shootin' hoops

Space Adventures

So they come to me one day and ask me about it and I say yeah I could be game for that just give me the training so next thing I know I'm on a plane to Cape Canaveral and I'm a little pissed cause I'll have to catch the World Series on Radio Satellite transfiguration but it could be worse I mean they've asked me to do something I can't say no but I'll have to get used to these liquid food packs, these liquid food packs man, Adjustments & Adjustments I hear they keep the goods stored in a sector of the craft I'll have to use those resources and think about my lady but I'll keep it personal you know how we all know what we all do but we keep it to ourselves I mean this ain't no vacation but it has its perks I am probably most pumped for the Fraumora Highlands but damn not those sharks on the return trip home as long as that gravitation trajectory can sling us around catapult us back if you pick up what I put down They asked if I'd seen 2001 A Space Odyssey I said yes and there better not be a HAL on this mission I'll take mankind And then I was like what are we gonna listen to up there besides Mission Control and the usual Seger, Browne, Dylan and Beatles? This little guy in a doctor's outfit is about to close and shut us in but before he does he goes here the goods you need I put them in stereo for lift off Yall Enjoy Be Safe and oh by the way, there's a small ration of Hennessy under the fire extinguisher cabin 2, See Ya Fellas.


Dragonette - Easy (Fabian Remix) getting better all the time ** partyzaffa

Im Not Alone (Deadmau5 Calvin Harris) - Brenjo Re-Edit 

Dragonette ft. Drake - Pick Up the Phone (The Klassiks Remix) 

A View from the Balcony

He stood on the 2^nd story balcony of the Myrtle-Mason Reception, gazing below at the row of chrysanthemums that lined the lip of the hill. How vibrant and stoic, he thought – each having blossomed with the November mist and meticulous care of the grounds crew. He looked out at the fields behind the beautifully manicured plants where the winery tours took place, wishing his parents had made the trip to see his brother at the altar. He was glad the wedding was over, along with the immeasurable months of social and familial ballyhoo it had created. His brother’s marriage to Muriel had been two years in the making, but the Catholic processional that had taken place earlier that day felt more like a lifetime. In fact, Muriel was the kind of woman who reflected her wedding in the sense that she was entirely too much. She was also boisterous and cynical and struggled to sustain her face without the application of beauty products. It didn’t matter. She was family now, and it was none of his business. The thump of the disc jockey's speakers inside brought him back to reality, as he pulled a crinkled Parliament from his suit pocket. He thought about going back in to the reception where the dance floor continued to pulse with inebriation, sweat and disco - but the air on the balcony was too sweet to leave. He needed some time to collect himself before delivering his speech as the rightful best man. His initial thought was to take the microphone and talk about the works of D.H. Lawrence; how weddings and marriages were  pompous and overblown; lavish precursors to failed unions. And the cost of them - reflecting that of an education or an extended stay abroad. But to say such a thing on behalf of his beloved brother and his new wife would prove dishonorable; maybe even a travesty. He puffed at his cigarette, took a look at his watch and glanced out at the Hill Country. It was a good night for love. And he was happy for his brother. 
Kid Cudi Feat. Sharam - She Came Along *AWT

Lawyers In Love - Jackson Browne 

If You Want It (You Got It) - TV Girl

The End Of The Innocence - Don Henley

Gotcha

JonnyBee - My trip (Original Mix) 

Darth&Vader - Return of the Jedi (Original Mix)

michael jackson - maria (you were the only one) (karim's nu-funk breakdown) 

Just goofin, new boot goofin. from fella golden arrow, jw klotz

Timshel

South American Chonicles: Being Bold

So here I am at the airport in Santiago, looking grizzly and feeling like death. I had gone way too hard in the proverbial paint over the course of the last few days and my body was hating me for it. I was just glad to have somehow managed to hang on to my passport through the whirlwind of booze and bars that I had saturated myself with over the past 48. I considered hitting the airport bar, and after a moment’s deliberation, I did. Bourbon please & touch of cola, I told him. He delivered. Money spent. Drink imbibed. Moving on. I said Goodbye to Tom Flynn at Gate 17 and made my way to the east wing of the building. And then, slam. There she is. Gearing up to check people in during pre-board. She’s drop dead stunning, perennial mountain stream beautiful, with twilight hair and sandy freckles. Full-bodied voluptuous, sporting the LAN Chile get up like a runway model on stewardess catalogue front cover parade. There was no way I wasn’t going to take some sort of shot at her. No way. I needed a moment to collect myself. I wouldn’t need to board for half an hour. I stumbled back to the bar. I’ll take another, sir. # 2: Imbibed. Feeling good, feeling bold. Was this the same woman whom I’d seen on my flight down? Had to be. She’d been working behind the rent-a-car counter as a liaison for the airport. But hell, that was three months ago. One more, please. I get to thinking, Hell, I could probably stay down here a few more days. It’s not like I have plans for when I get home. I mean there is a someone but she’s probably taken half the town to bed by now. Oh wait, she has. Because she told me she has. On the phone. Yesterday. Fuck. I hate whores. Moving on. I need flowers, a bear, anything. Something to pass off to this beautiful woman before I board that god forsaken plane that is going to drop me back in to a shitstorm I have seemingly transcended over the last couple of months. I find some complimentary candies and wrap them up as nicely as I can, with a note that has my contact information and the following message: “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” I'm such a creep. But who gives. Time to be bold & here goes, Calling Group C now - -Moving forward.  Four away, now three, two away, Balls. I am next. Hi... this is for you I say – smiling genuinely, passing the note and candy off with collected ease. And Holy Mother. Her lips turn up in to a warm and loving smile, whispering how sweet to me. It all happens in the flash of a second. I am going ape shit. I walk down the switchback handicap ramp, turning up to look at her as I board the plane. A wave and a smile are there waiting for me. Victory, Churchill. Victory. When I get home some days later, I've got one of these 21^st century  love letters from her in my inbox. Storal of the mory: Be Bold. 

Bobby Darin - Mack The Knife 

Wed-nes-day?

Always had a hard time spelling Wednesday in my earlier elementary years. No biggie.

Golden Cage (Fred Falke Remix) *AWT

The Rolling Stones - Wild Horses

If You Love Me - BB King &Van Morrison

Garth Brooks - More Than A Memory

Carl Harding (D): Potter County

Standing in the Redford Conference Room at City Hall, Carl Harding thought quietly to himself: Not bad for a kid from Oyster Bay.  He was awaiting the outcome of the election, hand-in-hand with his wife, while scanning the room of constituents before him. His wife’s expression spoke confidently about her feelings on the matter. Addressing the Chrystal meth problem earlier that year had been a tactful public relations move, resulting in unwavering support from the community. His leadership on the case had earned him a reputation as a pragmatic and resourceful trial lawyer, something of a rarity in Potter County. His presence during the initial trial hearings had shown not only a strong vitality, but also an inclination for sensing when the truth was being told and when it wasn’t. He could see the quivering lip of a dishonest man on the stand just as easily as he could sense the truth in the tone of another’s voice. His profession was his identity, and he was one of the finest.

A young clerk brought him a delicately wrapped Remy Martin as he pulled a JL Salazar cigar from his suit pocket, placing it casually in to his mouth. He chose not to light it, knowing that it would breathe best once the results weren’t just statistical projections. He had been the odds-on favorite for the office of District Attorney during the majority of his campaign, even as a New York born Democrat. He stood calmly, trying not to shuffle in his Georgio Brutini’s as a string of local auto commercials made an obnoxious fuss on the television. The results were moments away from being announced over the air. He thought about his time at Denison and the foolishness that had consumed most of his undergraduate studies. He recalled the cavernous apartment in rural North Carolina, and the work he had done for the Outer Banks Monitor. He thought about the exhausting hours on the 2nd floor of the legal library at the University of Houston, and the massive volumes of terminology and court cases he had absorbed during those two short years. He remembered the time he had spent as a law clerk for a lawyer who was later convicted of embezzling money. He thought about the move to Amarillo and how the opportunity, while it had seemed bleak at first, had given him a home and a job as an Assistant District Attorney. It had also led him to his wife, whom had not only been a voice of support, but also rounded the image of his campaign. No, he thought, Not bad for a kid from Oyster Bay at all. As the county commissioner had the results placed before him by a floor member of the KAMM news team, Carl took note of all the people in the room, deciding that it would be most practical to begin thanking people in the left wing for their continuous support and belief in him. This was just the beginning, he thought. He had a skill, a profession, a passion, a wife who believed in him, and an image that was regarded highly by the voting public. He had what it took and he knew it. The commissioner congratulated both parties on their impressively put together campaigns and proceeded with the announcement. Both his name and that of his opposition were emboldened in the upper right corner of the television set. And as the commissioner’s expression shifted, the results were read aloud over the KAMM airwaves. Carl lit his Salazar and took down the Remy Martin. Anything, he thought. Anything. Anything to help numb him to this new wound, as Mike Martin (51% Winner) -----Carl Harding (49%) flickered endlessly upon the screen. 

Bob Schneider - Let The Light In

Foo Fighters - Walking After You

Sun Kil Moon -Glenn Tipton

Western Alchemy

This video knocked me out cold today. Haven't stopped watching & listening. Nothing better than the American West, the road and a little Van...

Even my best friends, Even my best friends;
They don't know
And I'm searching for, searching for
The Philosopher's Stone.