It was negative nineteen this morning. I hate the goddamn cold and getting off of work at 6:30am. I was already chilled from inactivity in the cavernous lobby and the bus took forever to come. Forever. February is my least favorite month. I like July. Fuck February. And Frankie too. Upon awaking today at the crack of 2pm, I played the Billboard top 100 songs of 1961. I randomized it for added excitement. I’ve now got Angel Baby by Rosie and The Originals firmly rooted in my ear. Early sixties music sets off my inner Marty McFly, “George, you have to take Loraine to the Enchantment Under The Sea Dance!”. In 1961 the psychedelic wild sixties rock n roll still hadn’t permeated into the mainstream so it was mostly wholesome crooners with deep syrupy voices singing about crying for your baby, cruel Mary Lou, puppy love and big beating hearts. And they all have a trio of backup singers in white tuxedos with bow ties or pastel bridesmaid dresses going, “woo woo woo” or “dum dum dum” or “duh duh doo doo do duh duh ahhh ahhh ahh waa waa wah”. Most of it’s a lot of fun and I can’t help but getting into it.
The eight songs on the player at the top of the page are eight of my favorites from 1960. I like things with bongos and beatnik lingo. Like what’s happening daddy. It’s Hipsville Dobie. Copasetic kitty man. I’ve actually chosen my favorite 10 or so tracks of pop from each year 1976-2002. Most are more upbeat tracks because each time I workout I do it to a different year. On Monday night it was 1997. The Jock Jam Mega Mix from that year is perhaps my guiltiest musical pleasure. Anyway, I had class at three so I got some of my free pizza (from a pizzaboy friend) out of the freezer and heated it up in the oven. Then put barbeque sauce on it. I defy you to come up with a better breakfast than pizza covered in BBQ sauce. Yum.
I have some pictures of my place of employment that my technophile friend took with his miraculous phone-camera-gaming system-tricorder. I think they are using the garbage chutes to move floor to floor. I’m sixty percent sure I saw one standing still, looking at me through the partially opened lid of the trash compactor Sunday morning. It never runs at night cause the chutes are closed but I’m going to start it up unexpectedly one night and see if I can catch one in it.
2025 me here: Links to missing pictures lost to time again.
The Manor house
The Main building/complex
Special bonus: spaced out xmas morning me
The Ancient Undergrad 
one time, a friend and i took her little brother to chuck e. cheese. we ordered bbq chicken pizza. we thought it would be pizza covered in bbq chicken. instead, it was a pizza covered in bbq sauce and a few cubes of chicken. CUBES, i say!
it’s an acquired taste. it wouldn’t be my first choice, but i would choose it over hawaiian pizza.
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-19º!!!??? Is that in Faranheit or Celsius? Either or, that’s fuckin cold!!!!!
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its blogs like this that make me appretiate SoCal’s 80 degree winters. today i wore a tank top and flip flops. :)BBQ sauce pizza ROCKS MY SOCKS. that is totally my breakfast of choice. a much needed improvement over your Frankenburger. A bunny? over my ankle? come on, i’m cooler than that!!! guess again
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wow….. so that’s what a Canadian looks like.
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I really enjoy 1960’s music even though that was before my time, odd how that works but I like older stuff. And don’t feel guilty for owning a Jock Jam cd because I have one too! I’ve never tried BBQ sauce pizza but the more I think about it the better it’s beginning to sound!
Wow, look at all the snow in those pictures!! I’m in such shock because I live in a desert, it’s very sad when your seasons consist of Hot and Hotter. Is it opposite where you live? Just cold and killer snowmen?
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Jock Jam CD… man, that is pitiful. *hides all Mini Pops tapes* And polka dots!! You’re wearing polka dots!! … and I sound way too excited about you wearing polka dots…. Cute X-mas tree.. heh… *sheepish grin*
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i’m right there with you on the beatnik lingo and many of the lesser played early 60s oldies. i cannot imagine what negative 19 must feel like. if you “hate the goddamn cold” you might be living in the wrong place.
i think i have a pair of boxers that match your polka-dotted pajama pants.
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Did you get my e-mail? Your job looks scary!!!!
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aw your so cute! I love the manor house… definitely wouldn’t want to live there with some of the stories you’ve told but it’s absolutely beautiful. I’d love to do a remake building in it’s likeness without the spectors
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i like the flaming skull one. maybe i’ll get that one next. Close though… well, actually not close at all. one more guess and then i’m never responding to you ever againjust kidding. 🙂
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Sometimes I think I’m (deleted for various purposes). You know, I was on a quest to find Angel Baby, a song that always reminded me of driving on a desert highway at 3AM with a dear friend passed out in the passenger seat who awakens from drug-induced slumber to mumble, “angels singing of angels” (the kind of song you want to sing by candlelight with a boy’s head resting in your lap as you toy with his hair and lightly brush your finger over the late night stubble emerging on his cheek)- such pure sweet innocence. simplicity. but I could never find it (until right before I left for Korea, on a compilation disc called Old School Oldies)
I apologize. for a lot of things i’ve said (written), but mostly for a sin you probably don’t know i’ve committed because sometimes i have the presence of mind to edit
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I don’t even know what -19 is. It’s 61 F out now, and GORGEOUS. Windy, too, which is kind of strange.
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I fucking LOVE the butterfly with the lightsaber. i am SO getting that after the flaming skull on my ass.
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hmmm. Sometimes the most simple and raw songs make the deepest connection.
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