As another polar vortex slides into MN’s DMs, schools all across the metro area are cancelling classes for the next two days. And because parents apparently hate spending too much time with their children they’re…
Posts tagged rant
Things We Can Be Done With Now: Resolutions for the Internet
Tomorrow I will share my personal resolutions. Here’s some that I made for Citizens of the Internet. I’m guilty of more of these than I care to admit. Feel free to add your own. It’s…
Stop Using the Term ‘Dad Rock’
First they came for Wilco, at least that’s the first time I heard the term. Wilco was “Dad Rock” and it made me laugh, because at that point “Sky Blue Sky” had just come out…
Voice of My Generation: A lot of you disappointed the hell out of me yesterday
As you probably know most of the country is in the grips of the evil Polar Vortex, who is sitting on her ice throne in the Arctic circle feuding with her brother the Heat Miser…
Adorable Plastic Garbage or Desire Thwarted
I don’t have a lot of records. I did once upon a time ago, but the crate I kept them in was swiped from the front lawn of the house I was moving out of…
How come no one ever mentions popping boners at a rock concert?
I can’t remember who tweeted it or why it even entered my field of vision, but the other night some guy tweeted about panties dropping at a Bruno Mars’ concert. I probably can’t remember it…
Faux Hippie Hipsters & The Cranky Middle-Aged Lady Who Doesn’t Like Them
I’m pondering changing the name of this website to “Cranky Lady Leaves the House and is Cranky.” Now Part II of yesterday’s rant. So after Low’s horrific 27-minute long assault on my ears, Bob Mould…
Why I Hate Record Reviews
I’m going to use one review in particular to explain why it is record reviews are so often the very definition of suck. The review I’m using to illustrate my point is Time Out Chicago’s…
Full of bitch: Not for the faint of heart or thin of skin
I slept fitfully last night. My slumber plagued with bizarre semi-nightmares the kind that don’t wake you up in sheer terror filled with relief that you’re awake, but rather the kind that just make you…
Don’t call me Blogger
For ten years I’ve bristled at being called a blogger. It’s an awful word. It looks like booger, sounds like blobber, and has an air of artificiality and preciousness that most made-up words have (and…