The Annotated Ignition (Remix) for Liang

Now, usualy i dont do this but uh... gone head and give em a lil preview of the remix

no im not tryin to be rude,

but hey pretty girl im feelin you [Nicole: aw ok R. just make sure she really isn't a girl this time and that she is a woman kthanx] [Seth: You went there]

the way you do the things you do [Seth: Is she doing anything yet? I think that R Kelly might be a little confused about time frames. Or else he's also a modernist Poet. T.S. Eliot you are #OnBlast]

remind me of my Lexus coup [Seth: I do not want to remind anyone of a car]

thats why im all up in yo grill

tryina get you to a hotel [Nicole: Pause. You could interpret rude as being when a guy comes up talking about GIRL, you remind me of a small expensive car, and i'm trying to get you upstairs]

you must be a foot ball coach [Seth: there's a lot of gender confusion going on here]

the way you got me playin the field [Seth: isn't he just trying to play her?] [Nicole: LOL. I think lyrics further along in the song might explain why he makes no sense here] [Seth: Because he's drunk?] [Nicole: Yup! and doesn't give a damn] [Seth: As I note above, he may also be trying to apply the style of Modernist poetry to his lyric, which would also explain the lapses in time, logic, and acceptable behavior]

so baby gimme that toot toot [Seth: toot toot has a pulling motion]

and lemme give you that beep beep [Seth: this has a pushing motion]

runnin her hands through my 'fro [Seth: Does R Kelly have a fro? Is he into role-playing?] [Nicole: He's got a fro when the braids come out] [Seth: I don't want anything coming out of R Kelly]

bouncin on 24's [Seth: Is he in his car getting a bj and listening to himself? Dealbreaker] [Nicole: RIGHT?? Because it's not a third person singing about the remix!]

while they say on the radio... [Nicole: 'they' = 'him'][Seth: Word, unless he has multiple personalities? That would definitely explain the "Out of the Closet" video]

[chorus]

this is the remix to ignition [Seth: No one knows about the original, R] [Nicole: LOL]

hot and fresh out the kitchen

mama rollin that body

got evey man in here wishin [Seth: How many men are in the car?]

sippin on coke and rum [Seth: Open containers of alcohol, nbd]

im like so what im drunk [Nicole: Yeah so what if he has open containers in the car?] [Seth: You might want to consult state law for your own safety]

its the freakin weekend baby

im about to have me some fun [Seth: Word]

Bounce-bounce-bounce-bounce-bounce-bounce-bounce

Bounce-bounce-bounce- c'mon [Nicole: Bounce?] [Seth: On 24s]

now its like murder she wrote [Insert original dissertation on this here]

once i get you out them clothes

privacy is on the door

still they can hear you screamin more

girl im feelin what you feelin [Nicole, repeating Seth really: He should not be feeling what the girl is feeling.]

no more hopin and wishin

im bout to take my key and [Seth: This is so much information. Can we insert a picture of his penis here?]

stick it in the ignition

this is the remix to ignition

hot and fresh out the kitchen

mama rollin that body

got evey man in here wishin [Nicole: but really back to Seth's point, where the hell are we right now? Because he hasn't mentioned the lobby yet. And also why did R. create a song about the situation that he has yet to be in? Unless he's psychic, drunk, and has multiple personalities?]

sippin on coke and rum

im like so what im drunk

its the freakin weekend baby

im about to have me some fun

crystall poppin in the stretch navigator [Seth: again open bottles]

we got food every where

as if the party was catered [Seth: They better be rolling in $1 chicken sandwiches. Also is there a buffett table in there?] [Nicole: wants shrimp. But like how much food can you have in the car? Don't care if it's a stretch nav. That's just gross and unnecessary.]

we got fellas to my left [Seth: Word]

hunnies on my right

we bring em both together we got drinkin all night [Seth: I'm concerned there might be some issues with drinking]

then after the show its the (after party) [Seth: When did we go to a show? I need R to get a personal assistant] [Nicole: LOL word R., we pretty much went from the car to the lobby. Hallucinations?]

and after the party its the (hotel lobby) [Seth: Can you get a suite? Poor Hotel Lobby Staff]

and round about 4 you gotta (clear the lobby) [Seth: What hotel are they staying at? Holiday Inn?] [Nicole: Every rapper loves the Holiday Inn, so maybe R.'s rap buddies introduced him.]

then head take it to the room and freak somebody

girl we off in this jeep [Seth: There have been so many cars in this song]

foggin windows up

blastin the radio

in the back of my truck [Seth: Are jeeps trucks? I am so confused] [Nicole: You can have a Jeep truck, but reality is, there are too many cars entering at too many points in the song]

bouncin up and down

stroke it round and round [Seth: WTMI]

to the remix

we just thuggin it out... [Seth: that is not thuggin it out] [Nicole: LOL like not in the least.]

Push Your Ideas

Great video about the creative process that cleverly uses paper to make its point

Craigslist Missed Connection of the Week: Taking the Words Out of My Heart

EVERY male employee of St. Francis Diner - m4m - 26 (mission district)

---

Date: 2010-01-24, 3:29PM PST

I was there again this morning. I was the guy in the 4-top wearing an Argyle sweater and eating a patty melt - you were every male employee on staff. I couldn't take my eyes off of you. Each one sexy in your own way. There is clearly some discrimination going on in the hiring process, but everybody wins. You all got jobs and I get unimaginably sweet eye candy. I got all of my words caught in my throat whenever you threw me a glance. I DID want more coffee, I just couldn't move to make that clear at the moment. Shark Tooth Necklace - you might have been the cutest of them all, but Dark Blue Shades of Camouflage, your baby blues melted my butter: I felt a stirring. Gray Shirt I got butterflies, manly ones, fluttering inside of me when you came to Pop's to let us know our table was ready. Even you, Plaid Shirt and Other Guy, were astoundingly suave and polite, erotically so. I just want to take you all to some kitschy looking trailer in the middle of a desert and drink off-brand beers and listen to some music that I'd pretend I'd already heard of. We wouldn't have to take all of our clothes of right away either: we could play some Big Buck Hunter and talk about architecture and tattoos. We could mud wrestle or make a fire, maybe toss rocks at some cans lined up on a fence. If you're looking to have a six-way - or maybe a monogamous long term relationship with each other and me - I'm willing to consider it.
See you soon,
XoXo
Randy Warmloins 

Source

Up in the Maguire

Up in the Air has the potential to be a great film. Its story reaches across demographics. It is as much as film for young upstart college graduates who are frustrated by their jobs as Associates at McKinsey as it is one for the middle-aged, those who have jobs and those who don't. 


It is a film about compromise, the way that age forces us to renegotiate our plans, and how our plans must be renegotiated to make sense in the world that we experience. Sometimes, Up in the Air shows this compromise to be one of finally acknowledging our dreams and going after them. Other times, the compromise means letting go of one's dreams in order to one day attain them.


But Up in the Air is ultimately a vaguely existential film, and has no intention of providing an out for our protagonist, played by George Clooney. Once so satisfied by his career-centric existence, he yearns for connection, and is offered it and then it is taken away. He is condemned to the life that he no longer wants, because he has worked at it for so long.


Up in the Air is best viewed as a companion of sorts to Jerry Maguire. In that film, Tom Cruise plays an agent who has a crisis of conscience and decides he wants a new kind of life. With the help of a man who wants to be shown the money and a woman with an adorable son, he is able flow into one.


Why Jason Reitman, director of Up in the Air, refuses to allow his protagonist to make a new life is unknown, but it drains Up in the Air of its immense potential to deliver the type of emotional experience that all great movies afford their viewers.


Related: New York Times Film Critic A.O. Scott revisits Jerry Maguire

Pierony

You Can't Go Home Again

The last time I went to Paris, the world was a very different place for me. I had just finished my sophomore year in college which was more or less the worst year of my life.  Fall Quarter was made of endless emotional agony which led to a Winter Quarter of excessive work  and a Spring Quarter of no work at all. To prevent getting a 0.0 for Spring Quarter, I conducted original research and wrote it into a 20 page paper in two days and then I read 1200 pages of turn of the century Anthropological studies in 36 hours to not fail the final exam. My flight to Los Angeles was three hours after my final, and my flight to Paris was eleven hours after I arrived at LAX. I was a mess.

Paris was a panacea for my woes. It was never-ending daytime filled with buttery palmiers and crispy baguettes. The World Cup was on television and we were rooting for any team that spoke French. It was my first time in a city with an efficient underground transportation system, and my first time being legally allowed to drink alcohol. The mere act of strolling down the windy backroads of Montmartre felt like heaven itself, liberation from the life that I had always known.

It isn’t only Paris’ edifices and landscapes that create such an otherworldly playground. Its also the sense that its inhabitants are somehow more than you’ve previously known—more stylish, more cultured, more swaggerful. There were tweens roaming the streets who were both better dressed and more confident than I was in all of my 19 year old glory.

I’m almost four years older now, and certainly much changed. I have taken Feminist Studies which has much altered my innards, the Sartorialist and I unintentionally wear and buy the same clothes, and I a casual foodie with a retained penchant for McDonald’s and zesty cheese.  And still, I boarded Air France Flight 73 with all intentions of coming away from Paris with the same feeling that I had last time: overwhelming and all-consuming adoration.

Paris certainly has its pleasures. Rotisserie chicken with French fries is quite possibly the greatest culinary pairing of all time and being able to order hot chocolate without being a total loser is a sign of a more advanced culture. Their bread is both delicious and affordable, and sliced ham in France is something I can and did eat every day, whereas sliced ham in the United States is something that fills me with omens of food-poisoning and bad Subway sandwiches (speaking of Subway, the French are obsessed with them). French cafes and brasseries are something that San Francisco desperately needs and their belief in outdoor seating even in the winter—and the attendant heaters that make this possible—is a platonic ideal of living that we should all try to replicate.

I left Paris not with an all-consuming adoration, but nagging questions about why I didn’t feel that way. Paris, though lovely, didn’t offer the types of transportive pleasures that it had once provided. I wasn’t moved by the taste of the croissants or the perfectly constructed crepe from the street vendor near the Pompidou. The Metro still represents a wonderful form of transportation, but one that now seemed part of the grind rather than apart from it. Montmartre seemed on the side of the world and with nothing so great to recommend visiting it. And there weren’t any clothes (or stores for that matter) that I couldn’t find in San Francisco.

Perhaps San Francisco has spoiled me rotten with its endless produce, great food at casual prices, belief in to-go cups of coffee, great bakeries (Tartine, Patisserie Phillipe, Thoroughbread), thrift stores, its east meets west high-end department stores, parks, bars, and walkable streets.

That’s certainly part of it. San Francisco has probably ruined me for most other cities. But the underlying issue is that I love San Francisco the way that I do, I’ve been able to understand what it has to offer, because I’ve had time and the type of experience that only living in a place that can provide. How can I replicate the type of love that you develop in a year to a city where you’ve spent  a total of one month over the span of four years? I wonder, if you fall in love with a place on vacation, can you fall in love with it again without actually moving there? When a home is built in 11 days, maybe you can’t go home again.

.

Small Penis Syndrome

That's me on the right, obvi.