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Posts tagged as “Sad”

I Am Kloot’s “To The Brink (acoustic)”

A few months, maybe a year ago, Carol introduced me to I Am Kloot’s Sky At Night. This song quickly became my favorite from that record mostly because I am a sucker for sad drinking songs and this is one of the best sad drinking songs I’ve heard in a while. It might be right up there with The Magnetic Fields’ “Papa Was A Rodeo”, which is high praise coming from me.

The rest of the album is similarly good and I highly recommend you seek out a copy. Unfortunately, it’s not on Spotify (lame), or I’d have provided you a link. Here it is on Amazon, import-only. Weird, eh?

American Juggalo

My perverse fascination with the Juggalo continues. This short documentary is amazing. I think one quotation, in particular, sums it all up for me:

“We have alcohol and we have explosives. Let me show you how great we are.”

I’m not going to comment much more. I think the piece really speaks for itself, speaks volumes about juggalos, and speaks to the nature of the beast overall. But I do have a question: how many of the juggalos know the “woo woo” comes from this?

Which, of course, begs the more important question: is Bubb Rubb a juggalo?

Andy Richter has written one of the saddest jokes I’ve ever read.

And here it is.

A salesman is sitting in the reception area of a big corporation, waiting to give a presentation to some of the people there. He is kept waiting almost 40 minutes beyond the time of his appointment, and then he’s finally ushered into a conference room. He goes in, and sitting around a big table are two Jews, an African-American woman, and a gay guy of Chinese descent. The salesman goes into his pitch, for software or a phone system or something, and it’s pretty evident a couple minutes into it that these four people couldn’t care less, especially the younger Jew, who keeps checking his BlackBerry. But he plows through the presentation anyway, and when he finishes, everybody shakes his hand and thanks him. He goes out to his car and starts to drive home. On the road, his cell phone rings and he answers it. It’s his wife, and she asks him to pick up a couple of groceries on his way home. He says OK. She says, are you OK? And he says, yeah, I’m fine. She says OK. He hangs up, and this commercial for anti-itch powder comes on the radio, and it’s got all these country-sounding old people giving testimonials about how this powder completely improved the quality of their lives. And the salesman starts crying. Big choked sobs. He shades his eyes with his left hand so that the other drivers can’t see that he’s crying and says, “And I don’t even fucking care about this shit!”

Seriously, this really gets me for some reason. It comes from “Jokes” by Andy Richter on McSweeney’s. Check out the rest of them. His other 4 jokes in the article are similarly awkward and deliberately not jokey, but this salesman one is just miserable and makes me sad, not because it’s badly written, but because I feel for the pathetic salesman. Just horrible.

Funny how such a small bit of text can be so affective.

Thanks, Andy Richter. Real cool.