"I've got the key, the key to Gramercy Park."
--The Key To Gramercy Park, Deadsy

I've also got Deadsy's new album, Commencement. The track listing is just like the first album they released, but that's impossible to find, so this thing is a godsend. Deadsy rocks it hardcore. When they throw a concert in LA, the audience is filled with members of other bands. Jay Gordon, lead singer of Orgy, was their bassist since time immemorial, and stole their look and sound when he started the new band. They sang with fucking Cher. Did I mention that they rock it hardcore? Ninja, even. If you haven't seen their video on MTV, go see it here.

I'm going to do a rundown of the last few days (Wed 15 - Fri 17, this entry was deleted once by stupid Geocities, grr). Certain parts of it are more interesting to me than they would be to someone I was describing my day to, so I'll attempt to summarize where I can.

Wednesday started with an early trip to court to testify as a witness to an accident I had seen about two years ago. By early, I mean every sense of the word. It was in the AM, which is my usual definition of early, but also at 9:30AM, which is a more general kind of early. And I got there at 9AM, so I even showed up early. Hopefully, never again will I be so early to anything. The proceedings were fairly interesting in that I could see what both the lawyers were trying to do. I had originally thought that they were going to be arguing over the traffic lights or the van's position, but as it turned out the issue was whether or not the girl had been in the street or on the sidewalk when she fell under the van. If she had been in the street already, she was "a pedestrian crossing the street," and had the right of way. If she had started on the sidewalk and fallen into the street, then she was "a dumb bitch on rollerblades," and it was the van driver's right, nay, duty, to run her over. As the lawyers asked their questions, I kept having the incredible urge to stand up and yell, "Ah ha, so that's what you're trying to prove!" But I didn't, and therefore have fewer fines to show for it.

After they let me go, I proceeded to the area around Penn Station to kill some time. First to Jim Hanley's to look for a Spooky, a trip that produced a softcover copy of Neil Gaiman's American Gods instead of a Thing What Squeeks. Ah well, not a bad trade. Then to the Strat, where I searched in vain for an excuse to give up lots of money for roleplaying books I would never use. A sad story. Even sadder, the Toys 'R' Us in the area is gone, to make way for a Modell's. My search for a baby kangaroo continues.

Next stop was to see Sara from Changeling before she dissapeared back to California indefinitely. So hung out in her apartment with Sara and her boy, and that was much fun for a few hours. Then off to meet Akane at the Chambers 123 station to go get Dim Sum.

Due to the fact that I singlehandedly ruined Akane's schedule, I got to wait around for quite some time before she showed up. I mostly spent that time reading American Gods, and watching people go by as they left Stuy. It was a rather strange experience. I kept seeing people I recognized if not really remembered. Even stranger were the small people who I didn't recognize, wondering which of them I would have been friends with or at least known if I had still been going to Stuy. I did see two people whose names I remembered go by, Andrew and Maddy. Andrew greeted me with a nod, and a "Welcome back to the city." Of course he remembers me, he's a geek. Maddy just went straight by without glancing at me. I can only hope that the problem was that she didn't recognize me, not that she doesn't remember me. It seems unfair, in a way. I kissed her, not him. He didn't make my crush list. But she was the one who just walked by me. Ah well.

So Akane finally arrived, and we went to the Dim Sum place. It was ok. Not great, but ok. A word to the wise - do not attempt to order mock-anything for an avid meat eater. Really-good-mock-pork dumplings just can not, imho, compare to average-to-nasty-might-be-dog-but-they-say-pork dumplings at the average Chinese restaraunt, much less the orgasm inducing xiao lung bao over at Joe's Shanghai. From there, we headed Village-wards. There was much walking around and music buying. This is the part where I actually touched a Deadsy album, and then proceeded to own it. There was much joy. We stopped at Starbucks afterwards for liquid joy. Then to Akane's dorm, where there was listening to music and comedians, and watching of Mel Brook's version of To Be or Not To Be. Then sleep. In the morning, there was more of the same before we left to go see Black Tape for a Blue Girl perform at Virgin.

Black Tape for a Blue Girl are brilliant at what they do. And what they do, oh so brilliantly, is create music that Justin dislikes. That's the whole point behind the entire Projekt label, as near as I can tell. I have no idea how Voltaire wound up there. Either way, this was not exactly an event I was really looking forward to attending. The high point was being able to say that, yeah, I had met Sam and Lisa, and being able to get a few more chapters into American Gods.

The odd thing was, Yosef was there. This is an update for some of you, so pay attention. Yes, he looks like a Goth version of Prince. There's so much stuff in his hair that you can see it, like the spray-on snow everyone uses at Christmas. The weird thing is, he manages to pull it off. So it looks as good on him as it is possible for things to look on Yosef. If I didn't know it was Yosef, I might have assumed that it was a cool person or something. So mostly talked to him instead of listening. Little better.

From there to Lee's house for Buffyfest Eye. I had thought that more people were going to be there than just Lee and Ayla, but ah well. Was much fun, there was much watching of Season Two, and Spike and Dru before Spike became a sissy. Rrow. Woke up too early the next day to go home. Very sad, although I picked up a copy of Morrowind on the way back. More on that later.

Also, this is the point where I mention that during those three days, at some point(s), Justin got play. Score. Go him. Me, I mean. Go me. See the subtlety and tact I just used there?

On a slightly more interesting note than my itinerary, Akane and I came up with an interesting idea. It's not as good as the tattooed slaves, but it can certainly hold its own: Taco Bell, to further promote its most famous spokesman, should employ chihuahuas to deliver its food. This fleet of delivery canines, the Taco Dogs, would increase Taco Bell profit by at least a gajillion percent. Here's how the whole deal works: Taco Bell would employ 3+ dogs to deliver each meal. The first cart would be pulled by a genetically engineered Leader Dog, and covered by two Guard Dogs, whose jobs it would be to defend the caravan with their ferocious nipping, and otherwise follow the orders of the Leader Dog. Larger caravans would be provided with extra carts pulled by Guard Dogs (with two additional Guard Dogs per cart), as there is no reason to waste multiple precious Leader Dogs on the same mission. What makes these Leader Dogs so special? To fulfill their orders, Leader Dogs must be capable of memorizing directions, making change, and coordinating Guard Dogs in enacting vicious revenge upon those who attempt to shirk their bills. Leader Dogs would also be trained in the spotting of birthday party paraphenalia, such as balloons and party hats, in order to more accurately judge when to give out free mini-churros to the birthday person. To those who attempt to fake birthdays for this privilege, know that your meager intellect is no match for that of the cunning, brave, and ruthless Leader Dogs. See above for vicious revenge.

Morrowind, right. After having this wonderful, wonderful game for a bit, I've come to the same realization that Tycho did: this game just begs you to be a bad, bad kitty. I never do that, ever - I always choose the good guy, the noble choice, and any self-sacrificing I can do is always an added bonus. Not here baby. Things went downhill from the moment I decided I was going to play a Dark Elf Assassin. Killing people is what I do, and the pay is just an added bonus. NPCs have died because I thought their model was looking at me funny. I tried to get some sleep in a farm house, only to be told that I couldn't because it was the farmer's bed. So I killed him, and slept the night peacefully next to his cold, dead corpse.

It doesn't even work when I try and do good things. I was supposed to take this one trader to a city in a swamp. This involved about an hour irl of cross-country trekking to reach the damn swamp in the first place. From that point, it was three hours of looking for the damn place in the dark, falling in water, and fending off birds, crabs, nix-hounds, and other assorted creatures with pointy teeth. Eventually, damaged and tired and more than a little annoyed, I decided to sleep till morning. Upon waking, I came to the startling conclusion that you can see farther during the day. I had fallen asleep in front of a road sign, and looking in the direction it said the city was, I realized I could see ships and houses. The rest of the journey was anticlimactic, although I did get a reward - the Boots of Blinding Speed. As visions of the slaughter I could wreak danced in my pointy-eared head, I put them on to find that not only was my speed more than tripled, I was blind. Ha ha ha. So I took my boots off and killed the bitch.

And then there was a riot.

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