The Blog Goes Pop

The editorial staff here at "Here's the Thing..." have received some constructive criticism from our girlfriend, Lauren Kearney (no, not THAT one); specifically, that we speak too often and at too great a length regarding our digimal interfoozits and our obscure, nerdly obsessions. Apparently, the blog has been a little too "niche," a little too edgy thus far. We are told that the blog could benefit from greater mass appeal, that, in fact, Lauren does not like to read the blog in its current format. A suggestion was put forth that we could, I dunno, write about how our day went.

We have been advised that Emily Conrad's blog is more palatable.

The editorial staff, while appreciating this considered and honest feedback, counter-proposed that perhaps Lauren could support us in something for once, rather than always working to tear us down and make us feel low. Also, it was discussed that Emily Conrad's blog, while being an artfully crafted column both pithy and profitable to all readers, might also be pedestrian claptrap barely deserving of our contempt.

The editorial staff, of course, have issued a correction as they were speaking from a place of deep hurt and did not mean what they said.

So, having accepted that perhaps change might be a good thing, here begins your more palatable, radio-friendly, blog experience (henceforth referred to as "blogsperience"). We hope you enjoy the show.


************


The Flogging Molly show last Tuesday at the House of Blues was great, as expected. Dave King brought considerable stage presence and no small bit of charisma to the hall, though inevitably a few of his folksy zingers were recycled from previous performances (that I even care to point this out might just be evidence of how few bands I've seen repeatedly). I do wish, though, that for all their songs concerning alcohol they could bring some of that beer-soaked Darkbuster vibe to their shows. But what can ya do.
I couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for the opening band, The Aggrolites. They seemed like a good bunch of guys and, hell, how can you be mad at a raggae/ska band, especially one that's recorded with Tim Armstrong? Well, this is New England, and that night it was like 30°; they may as well have been selling beach balls to grizzly bears (Jackpot! Another top-notch analogy!). To Boston's credit, though, the crowd was very polite while making it obvious that we weren't picking up what they were dropping down.

On Saturday Lauren, Douglas, Eric W, and I visited at Tanya's apt. Tanya, who is a most charming and humorous drunk, and who earned her reputation as a terrific hostess one New Year's Eve by offering to sleep in the bathtub so we could use her bed, once again proved to be a great drinking buddy, as did her boyfriend and various cohorts. Later on we visited upon White Horse and it wasn't terrible at all (nor was it a heroin den!), despite widely-held views to the contrary; there was pool, Bad Religion, and 5.50 Jack & cokes—pretty much all I could ask for. Maybe it helped that I was tanked? Otherwise the guys fighting over who puked on whom in the bathroom and then aggressively questioning me on where I'd purchased my jacket might've detracted from the overall experience.

When I returned home, do you know what glittering treasure awaited me? I'll give you a hint: It was Resident Evil 5! Wait, can I not talk about that? Shit, I'd been doing so well, too.