If you're anything like me, you have a calendar of Scottish Highland Cattle in your den that hangs there naked and useless. Sure, there are twelve glorious photos of creatures are both be ferocious and have horrific emo hair, but the days themselves are blank. So, in an effort to fill up that calendar, we here at Birdmonster have a few dates you may want to add.
- August 5th, 2008: The date our new album comes out on them there interwebs. You can do the download thing at your favorite mp3 hole and, well, we'd love it if you did.
- Monday Nights, 8p.m.: As a young skip, my Sundays were often filled with cereal, He-Man jammies, and rapt viewings of American Gladiators. Now, while some things from my youth, like my undying love of Dream Theatre and uncontrolled poison marshmallow cereal fetish died hard, my love for all things American Gladiators was rekindled last night. I can't recommend the ludicrous stupidity that is the updated AG highly enough. They've got a bunch of failed tight ends wearing lycra and wolf-fangs, Hulk Hogan pimping Toyota (brother), and last night, the subtle homoeroticism was through the roof, with one of the contestants nearly outdoing Tobias Funke, with gems like "I always come from behind" and "You might be on top now but I'm behind you just waiting." Thank you NBC.
- September 2nd, 2008: The date you can get the album in stores. Not the American Gladiator album, mind you, though if that's also being released, I admonish you to buy one as well. We must support my newfound love.
- February 22nd, 2005: The day "Rich Girl" was murdered by its creators. Look, I loves me some stripped-down acoustic jams and I loves me some "Rich Girl" and, I may as well admit I'm coming down from a veritable Hall & Oates addiction (it's hard doing without "Private Eyes" after a long day of notwork but the shakes and migraines have abated), but I do not loves me some "Rich Girl" acoustic with added croontastic intro. May mustaches be regrown. May funkiness be rekindled.
- September 3rd, 2008: We're playing a hometown shindig with Nada Surf at the Great American. So, if you're in San Francisco or surrounding parts and can't quite get to Amoeba on Tuesday, come out and celebrate our release on Wednesday. We can talk about that Monday's American Gladiators, unless its off the air by then, in which case I will likely be suicidal.
- August 8, 2008: The Olympics start and 'Merica tries to reclaim its International Basketballian Glory. Of my many other, non-Hall-&-Oates vices, drinking beer and watching basketball is among the most pervasive, though I do my best from yammering about it too often, but the Olympics is a special deal. Sure, Jason Kidd is starting at point while far superior, less decrepit young 'uns wile away on the bench, but I have faith that the United States of Nike team can make our country proud. We might've crapped the bed for the past eight years here, both in international politics and international roundball, yet I can't help but think that this summer and autumn, all that will turn around. Of course, if they lose and McCain wins, you'll find me in my roommate's fortified zombie bunker, eating SPAM, playing gin, weeping in the fetal position.