Podcast

Holy Goddamn! 002 – Brees of Change Meets the Dirty Lowdown

Holy Goddamn returns, a mere 2 weeks later as promised! Oh, you thought it would never last? Yeah, I know what you were thinking. Plus that other thing you were thinking. You sicko.

In this week’s episode, I expound upon a much-needed fairness doctrine for The Small Town Movie, and I have an exclusive in-studio interview with Bree Summers, editor of one of my favorite political blogs, BreesofChange.com. At least it was one of my favorite blogs before the interview. And as always, tunes I dig and soundclips that no one but me will think are funny.

To subscribe to Holy Goddamn! via iTunes, click here. To peep the regular ol’ xml feed, click here.

And just to clarify, this episode is not brought to you in any part by Winger’s. I don’t know how that guy keeps getting his stuff on my show. He must be like a vampire–invite him in your house once and it renders you defenseless.

Holy Goddamn! 002 Setlist

Ted Leo, “The Great Communicator,” Tyranny of Distance * get it
Black Lips, “Lock and Key,” live at Amoeba Records Hollywood (courtesy Rollo & Grady)
Jan Davis, “Snow Surfin’ Matador,” Jungle Exotica Vol. 1 (v/a) * get it
Don Agrati, “Hollywood Song,” Homegrown (courtesy Art Decade)
Jon & Robin, “You Don’t Care,” 7″ single (courtesy Office Naps)
Clinic, “Tomorrow,” Do It! * get it
Nation of Ulysses, “You’re My Miss Washington D.C.,” 13-Point Program to Destroy America * get it
Elvis Costello, “Night Rally,” This Year’s Model * get it

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Füd

The Awnings of Brooklyn: Pizza di Napoli

friedpizza.jpg“Fried pizza: one bite and you’ll actually hear your arteries scream in horror!”

What’s more amazing: the fact that fried pizza exists, or the fact that this pic was taken in Brooklyn and not the Jersey Shore? As Tom Scharpling once said, when you go to the Jersey Shore, they just assume whatever you want, you want it fried.

If you told someone from Naples that there was a place in America named after their city that sold deep-fried pizza, they’d probably beat you to death, just on general principle.

Who do we have to thank for deep fried pizza? The British, of course, the same people who brought you deep-fried Mars bars and deep-fried mac and cheese. Apparently deep-fried pizza is a popular chip shop snack over there. I know Masterpiece Theatre makes us think the English are all sophisticated and proper, but trust me, they have a junk culture over there that makes American pop garbage look like the Algonquin Round Table.

I’m not sure why a place that specializes in British junk food is in a Puerto Rican neighborhood. But the joint is in a prime location, right down the block from Woodhull Hospital. So you’re within walking distance of the ER for the inevitable stomach pumping that will follow.

Football

Thank You, Third-Hand Schadenfreude

I know I said that my New Year’s resolution was to stop listening to WFAN, but consarnit, I’m a weak man. Last week, as I was dropping off laundry, I turned on my car radio and tuned into The Sports Leader. I will note, however, that it was Steve Somers, who is totally allowed under the parameters of my resolution.

However, even The Schmooze gets terrible callers, and on this occasion I heard a real doozy. I can’t remember the guy’s name. Let’s call him Joey from Riverhead. First thing he says to Schmooze is that he’s a huge Cowboys fan–despite having the thickest Lawn Guy Land accent you’ve ever heard. Strike one.

This baffles me. Whenever you listen to WFAN during football season, you will hear guys call in who have clearly never been further west than Weehawken in their entire lives, and yet root for teams that are over the map. I don’t know what’s crazier: that, or the fact that the hosts never call them on it. “Wait, you’re from Yonkers but you call yourself ‘a die-hard’ Dolphins fan. How the hell did that happen?”

Next, he says that he can’t get into the Super Bowl since the ‘Boys aren’t in it, so he can’t wait for pitchers and catchers in a few weeks so he can “start watching god’s other team, the Yankees.” Strike two (pause to vomit before making the call).

I guess that explains his Cowboy fandom. He figures his favorite baseball team is the richest one in its sport with the most entitled, spoiled, arrogant fans. So obviously, he figures he’d pick the football team that fit the same bill.

The capper: he says he’s rooting for the Cardinals because he doesn’t want Pittsburgh to “steal” the crown of having the most Super Bowl rings, a distinction they used to share with the Cowboys before winning Super Bowl XLIII.

Strike three, you are the worst human being ever.

So while I had no vested interest in the outcome of this year’s Big Game (c) (r), other than wanting it to be a good game for once, part of me rooted for the Steelers. Because with a Pittsburgh win, I could imagine this guy slumped in his rec room chair, crying bitter, bitter tears, then flying into a rage and tearing down all of his Cowboy memorabilia that says MOST RINGS EVER. Because you know he had like five posters that said that. And 6 commemorative plates. And several sets of Franklin Mint coins and Liberian-issued stamps with Roger Staubach and Troy Aikman on them.

So thank you, Steelers, for making that dream a reality.

A potentially explosive collection of verbal irritants