I saw David Bowie perform last night at the Area2 festival. I was, of course, appreciating his mighty presence, but I was only mildly enthused until he busted out with "Ziggy Stardust", and now I have this to say:

OMFG DAVID BOWIE IS SOOO COOL!!! HE'S LIKE OH MY GOD, YO DON'T UNDERSTAND, YOU SERIOUDLY JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW COOL HE IS! IT WAS SO FUCKING AWWESOME I JUST WAN TTO SHOOT MYSLF IN THE FUCKING FACE AND THEN JUST RUN AROUND SCREAMING "OH MY GOD DAVID BOWIE IS ROCK GENIUS AND I LOVE HIM SO MUCH OH MY GOD!!!!!" I JUST WANT TO GRAB HIM AND TEAR OPNE HIS HEAD AND PLUNGE MY HANDS INTO HIS BRAINS AND SMEAR THEM ALL OVER MY FACE BECAUSE HE'S SO GREAT AND WONDERFUL AND BEAUTIFUL AND YOU JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND!!!! *SOB!*

And Busta Rhymes was also there. He knew he was going to have a hard time appealing to a crowd full of Moby and Bowie fans, and he made no bones about it. "I know you may not be used to this, but I'm here to change your perception of hip-hop culture." and "Clap your hand everybody, even if you're sittin' down, it's okay, clap your hands!" (Actually, he at first encouraged us to "clap our shit", which I'm not even going to address. I assume he meant "hands", though), So he changed our perception by rocking out, chugging Curvoisier on stage (Do they pay rappers to be so enthused about Curvoisier (which I'm proabbly not even spelling correctly)?) and encouraging the audience to skin up and get baked. I did not expect the performers to encourage us to get high, and I was like, "I'm sorry Busta, but I have no weed." But I think Busta loved me all the same. He had a superb energy and feel for the audience and fine lyrical talents.

Moby is a spaz. I think they just gave him a bunch of prop instruments to bang on while he ran around the stage, occasionally stopping to shout "*huff* *huff* one love! *pant* people get together!" or somethign similar. Don't get me wrong, Moby writes some dope-ass songs, and I guess he like... needs to be onstage while they are performed or something, but boy cna't realy sing. He sings about as well as I do, and I'm sorry, but that's not enough to really warrant making up lyrics to songs which were just fine without them.

Well, as long as Steve's got his lab notebook available. I may as well post excerpts from mine. Granted, it doesn't have quite the same juxtapositional appeal as Steve's DNA sequences and four-letter words, but it seems pretty odd when read out of context:

non-sinking beaver

still wheels

Weird invisible platforms on train roof

Go off on sound options

Barrels everywhere

Dead vibrating orangutans

VCC x100 z9000

hovering blowgun

In fact, I would like to present this as poetry. It's about ummm.... how society fucks with your mind.

Sniglets for perverts:

• Excrebitionist (self-explanatory)
  
• Tampaccident (you don't want to know)
  
• Scrotunda (not to be confused with scrotundra)
  
• Testibule (what, your house doesn't have one?)
  
• Spazterbation (you know you've been there)
  
• Tittilingus (use your imagination)
  
• Fowlatio (cluck cluck clummrrff...)

I don't know why Merriam-Webster won't write me back.

So, I saw Howard the duck for the first time in about 15 years the other night. I remember being extremely terrified of that movie. I thought it was the Dark Overlord that scared me so much, but then, upon re-examination, I determined what it was.

Excuse me now while I curl up in a fetal position in the corner, rock slowly back and forth and scream so loudly that my ears bleed. I can't believe that movie was only rated PG.

Haven't been posting much, obviously. Been trying to keep to my grueling schedule to prepare for the big day last Monday today tomorrow.

Training Schedule for Big Blogger:

4:00 am: Jump out of bed, refreshed and alert!

4:10 am - 5:00 am: Digital calisthenics: Aikido stretches to prevent carpal tunnel. Thumb and forefinger truck spring compression to increase manual strength and stamina. Tap fingers along to Michael Flatley video to increase typing speed.

5:05 am - 5:15 am: Breakfast of raw eggs, Mega-mass 3000, and handful of daily vitamins.

5:16 am - 5:30 am: Vomit, eat toast and jelly instead.

6:00 am - 8:00 am: High-Impact Pointless Confrontation Training: Shouting obscenities at random light-rail commuters.

8:30 am - 11:00 am: Attempt to guess other blogger's login/pass so I can H4XX0R their punk asses.

11:00 am - 12:00 pm: Lunch

12:00 am - 1:00 pm: Memorize 30 pages of Roget's Thesaurus.

1:00 pm - 2:00 pm: Memorize 30 pages of Webster's Dictionary.

2:00 pm - 5:00 pm: High-Intensity Pop-Cultural Bombardment: Drinking Pepsi Blue while listening to Britney Spears and watching tapes of prime time television on fast-forward.

5:00 pm - 5:30 pm: Vomiting again.

5:35 pm - 7:00 pm: Studying comprehensive opponent dossiers compiled from webcam surveillance, FBI reports, IP tracking and blogs to determine their strengths and weaknesses.

7:00 pm - 9:00 pm: Hardcore Conversational Multi-Task Training: Holding 45 different IM conversations simultaneously.

9:00 pm - 9:45 pm: Dinner

10:00 pm: Bed

Well, in reality, I figure that doing any kind of training will actually be pointless. You see, I've got this... plan.

Okay, not really.