June 28, 2002

Dear Diary with Mr. Pete Beatty

Blackstone Avenue

Whoooo, what a summer it has been already. I do not have a job, I do not have a job, I do not have a job. I wish I had a job. My dad does not own a Fortune 500 company. It might be cooler if he did, but you know what? I LIKE WHO I AM. I AM THE NEW BERLIN WALL. DO NOT FIGHT ME. On an unrelated note, I find the ad for Electrical Audio in The Onion to be very funny. That does not mean that I like The Onion. It does mean that my dad rules. Father's Day was a couple weeks ago, but I will reiterate the sentiments of that day, which are not confined to that day, and state that my dad is, as dads go, strong to quite strong. He likes talking about the single wing formation. So dad, let me just say that you are a bear, and I will be in your rock army whenever we organize the Northeastern Ohio rock army.

The first song on Highly Evolved by the Vines rules. The rest of the album is not that good, but man, that first song rules. I cannot recall whether this band is from New Zealand or Australia. New Zealand feels right. So I say "Hey World, check New Zealand out." And you can take that to mean that maybe Doc Films has jumped the shark. I love you guys, but Swingers? I mean, I know it launched the legendary Hollywood careers of Vince Vaughn and Jon Favreau. (Editor's Note: the career of Jon Favreau began and ended in the movie PCU, according to most cultural historians. Steve Perry's Note: The Wheel in the Sky KEEPS ON TURNING. I don't know where I'll be tomorrow.) Doc Films, I love you but ix-nay on the ad-bay ovies-may.

(I'd do anything) to be with you, sometimes,

I need to start a band. I've been thinking about this for a long time. Moacir has already discussed make-believe bands in this newspaper. I have several make-believe bands. One is called the Plimptons. They have made-up albums and everything. They're an emo band from England. They've been branching out into IDM and country rock recently. I want to write the songs for the Plimptons. They are named after George Plimpton, in whom I have a very healthy interest. Sidebar: Every movie George Plimpton has been in has been improved by George Plimpton having been in the movie. I am basing this entirely on Good Will Hunting and When We Were Kings. But I need to learn how to play guitar because I want my band to have a guitarist and I also want to be God's own singer of songs.

I'm no good. But I'm especially no good when it comes to getting haircuts and buying shoes. But right now I don't have money for either haircuts or shoes, so I have nothing to worry about. WHY IS YOUR OVEN IN ITALY? DO THEY NOT HAVE OVENS IN AMERICA ANYMORE? GEEZ. I don't know how I feel about the new Med bakery. I liked the old Med bakery. It was so in-your-face and real. Plus one time a guy cut in front of me in line to ask for a cup. I figured he wanted a cup of water. But then I got my croissant and small coffee and went outside and the guy was panhandling WITH THE CUP. It takes brass ones, I'll tell you. I will.

stop crying your eyes

Hold on, hold on, don't be scared. That's right, faithful readers we have updownsidewaysgraded from Neil Young lyrics to Oasis lyrics. Also, I have not yet stopped crying my eyes out over the fact that Engerland got bounced out of the World Cup by playing the sorriest half of man-up football I've seen since, well, Argentina needed PKs to bounce England from the 1998 competition. Take what you need, and be on your way. All I wanted this summer was a job—and for morally casual supermodels who like unathletic, poor writers to move into the apartment across the hall. (No offense meant, Karl) But the other thing I wanted was for England to win the World Cup. But I'll tell you one thing: The Strokes stole their writing from Bob Seger. The stats guy is gesticulating wildly and telling the anchorman that the Strokes have just broken my dog Clark's record for most consecutive appearances in Dear Diary. DaJuan Wagner what?

Picture book, pictures of your

The wheel in the sky is still turning. Maybe what this paper needs is a series of crudely-rendered cartoons about DaJuan Wagner. HE is the NEW Iverson, after all. And while I have the podium, I am officially EXCITED about Cleveland Cavaliers for the first time since 1992. Getting rid of Andre Miller, which is apparently going to happen, which I would have thought unthinkable some three days ago, is also apparently possibly the greatest idea in the long history of ideas. OK, maybe he's the best point guard in the NBA. BUT HE IS A DORK. Remember when Sports Illustrated called Terrell Brandon the best PG in the NBA? It didn't matter, because the Rock does not care about your Grammys. Basketball is 3 percent skills, 48 percent marijuana and 49 percent panache. And DaJuan Wagner has panache. Jumaine Jones has panache. Ricky Davis has panache, and you do not have panache. But the Cavs are Back.

Heaven, I need a

It might be the return of topicality to American art. It's genius as far as I can tell. I mean, who else is tired of baby Jesus figurines smeared with shit floating in an aquarium full of the oil they found under the football field at Bayside. IT KILLED ZACK's GOOSE. For those about to be R. Kelly, I salute you. You made a bad decision or two, so I sing this song for you. Rockin' at a Hyde Park party indeed. Oh, also, you can buy love from a pay phone.