Monthly Archives: August 2011


I was thinking about that Re-Civilize Yourself controversy from Nivea while looking at these incredible ads. My personal favorite, I think, is the Blatz Beer ad, but they’re all pretty fantastic. We think we never see anything offensive like this anymore, but then again, Nivea did it just last week.



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Me: anyway, what did he do to you? 4:07 PM
Me: WHAT IS THE PROBLEM???????????? besides that you don't like ANYTHING THAT I LIKE. except high life. 4:08 PM
Matt: ??And Wilco 4:09 PM
Matt: ??And tikioke 4:09 PM
Matt: ??And sun hotel 4:09 PM
Matt: An Jameson 4:09 PM
Matt: ??And Ivan 4:09 PM
Matt: Shall I go on? 4:09 PM
Me: what. 4:11 PM
Me: ok i still love you 4:11 PM
Matt: (Things you like that I also like) 4:11 PM

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Upon deleting my Google+ account, after going round and round with those idiots, they had the nerve to give me space to tell them why I was leaving. Here’s my short response:

am leaving because Google+ refused to allow me to use the nom de guerre I have been using to write, organize and promote under for now close to 10 years.

The truly ridiculous part that I keep remembering is how Google claims to be doing this to assure other Google+ users that they know who they are dealing with. The irony in this is that most people that read me or know me in my community wouldn’t have any idea who I am under the name Google+ keeps demanding I use.

The other irony is the true anonymity in my works as a writer and organizer came when I was using my real name, all those years ago. Nobody paid attention to that bland and boring name. But everyone will read someone named Champ Superstar. 

It IS a real name, it is really me and it is a true personality. I’m sad that Google plus decided to suspend users for using pseudonyms before even attempting to come up with a solution for people like me. 

So long, Google+. You suck.

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 I wish I was more design-y and could create a flowchart for this series of events, but here we go anyway, with boring old text, exactly as the events unfolded:

–>Find out yesterday via Twitter my friends Sun Hotel are playing in Houston.

–>Go to show.

–>Get mentioned by Sun Hotel and/or individual band members on Twitter.

–>Curious Sun Hotel follower checks out my Twitter bio.

–>Curious Sun Hotel follower checks out my blog as linked from my Twitter bio.

–>Discovers from my Know Me section that “I like F U songs with bitter lyrics. A lot.”

–>Sends me this awesome email at 4:30 in the morning:

This is one of those things where you run across someone’s
page late at night,

(for what it’s worth, via sun hotel’s tweet.)

You say you like F U Songs; here are three::


–>Tada! Random new music! Thanks, Dustin.

A great example of how social media is sometimes just super cool. Also, goes to Loyola! Go Wolfpack!
Hope you all enjoy the bitter lyrics. I did.


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Here’s another post that was started and left to collect dust in Google Docs:

There’s a signifying event in the timeline of a superhero/villain that forces them to take on a secret identity.  Peter Parker’s was getting bit by a radioactive spider.  Wolverine’s was watching his father murdered in rage.  Dr. Doom’s was blowing his face off in an experiment gone awry.  Though not nearly as traumatic or horrifying, my signifying event was returning to New Orleans.  

Armed with new love and a redeveloping passion that had been bound by the Austin slacker lifestyle, I excitedly and hurriedly broke the news to all of my friends and family.  In an instant, I was gone.  I could feel the excitement of a brand new old life seeping out of my pores.  While Austin had been grand for awhile, it was definitely holding me back.  It was causing me to drink too much, not write enough and surround myself with people who didn’t care about either, or anything, for that matter.  

This was definitely my chance, for better or worse.  I had to finally make an impact before the chances I had to do so ran out.  I could do anything, be anything, live a life I create all on my own.  In the streets of Austin, I was just some slacker like everyone else.  I was exactly who I’d allowed myself to become.  In the days before I left, I realized that if I didn’t get busy, all of my chances would eventually run their course, and I’d never make the impact I wanted to.  I had to shed who I was there.  So, I started rebuilding myself, from the inside out, in a city that was doing the exact same thing. 

The first few weeks back, I wandered these old streets of mine with fond, if faint, memories and was allowed to pilot the wayback machine as I told my former love all of my tales of love and woe as a teenager and young adult.  In the early days of my return, it was cold and quiet and reflective.  The streets and courtyards were clandestine, covert, concealed.  Unexpressed, hidden, esoteric. As privy as the word itself: secret.


We walked through our streets, the streets of New Orleans, surrounded by new and old. Alongside brick and mortar, in the ever-expanding tapestry of characters and cocktails, floods and politics, food and masks there were secrets abound.  The maze of the city streets, some that lead to nowhere, did nothing to resolve the mysteries.”


It looks like I was leading up to something…but it’s pretty ramble-y. Probably why I dropped it.





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