Kay Hanley

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Angie C’s Radio Progrum! Liberal Assholes!

January 24th, 2010

Houndstooth Radio DJ extraordinaire Angie C and I get together several times a week while our kids are at school and sit at my kitchen table with our laptops.  We work, drink tea, gossip and generally goof off.  This week as she broadcasted her show live from my kitchen, I decided that she needed a theme song for her show.  As far as I was concerned, the more ridiculous the better.  I think at first, Angie was hoping for something a bit cooler but eventually she agreed that a theme song from her Muthuh’s POV with lyrics about scratch tickets, Mahblehead and Auntie Junie was an excellent idea.

 

So here is Angie’s theme song, directed and edited by Zoe Mabel.  Enjoy!

 

Then to dump sugar on the awesome cake, one of Angie’s + my top Twitter crushes, Shane Nickerson decided to do his own version.  ZOMG!!!!

 

 Overall, this week was chock full off silliness but the big news for me was the discovery that if you do a Google image search for “liberal assholes” you get this: 

 

 liberal-assholes.jpg

 

 The photo was taken by Zoe Mabel and originally appeared in my 2008 blog titled “Chardonnay Swilling Liberal Elitists.” Obviously, Conroy and I are giddy.  This image appears TWICE before you even get to one of Sean Penn.  SUCK IT Sean Penn!

 

xok 


 

I Have A New Band.

January 22nd, 2010

To begin, it is worth mentioning that the 2009 experience for me was not unlike getting unceremoniously dumped by a succession of brain damaged boyfriends who weren’t even cute or good in bed and I never should have liked in the first place.  Which is to say:  The harsh treatment that I received from the year 2009 was completely fucking uncalled for and probably, mostly my own fault.

 

 I’ll be the first to admit that I did not adapt well to the abundant feast of bad news, failure and ego bruising that I got hit with last year but at the same time, I am not bitter.  It’s more of an Irish amnesia kind of thing with me, that I forget everything but the grudge.  Definitely not the same thing as bitterness. Am I right or am I right?

Besides, from my rich experience in the entertainment business, crushing disappointment and mercurial conditions are a few of the more charming attributes that keep me chained to the radiator like a neglected but eager puppy.  And when I say business, btw, I mean nothing of the sort.  I write songs and sing them, so c’mon, who the fuck are we kidding?  What I’m trying to articulate is that although I peddle in a low art form and should have done something more substantial with my life, like scraping gum off the asphalt at Dorchester High with my teeth during summer vacation, I am sort of unemployable in any other field.  And the Boston Public Schools aren’t hiring.  I checked before I even mentioned it.

Here’s the thing: I know for a fact that the worthy accomplishments in life are born when life gives you lemons.  Lemons that flirt with you at the bar all night then make out with a girl you don’t like and give her a ride home in a new Porsche 911 only to find out later that you got stuck with the bar tab and your car won’t start.  So  then you turn those lemons into vodka + sleeping pills!  Stupid lemons. Wait. I forgot what I was talking about.  Whatever it was, I’m sure it was pithy.

 

Sometime around last Spring, I ended up doing the ol’ FB re-connect with my old pal, Linus Of Hollywood.  We were all, “Blah, blah, blah… Let’s get together and write hit songs for Disney starlets!”  

 

 This kind of songwriting mission rarely bears fruit because it’s a thankless, speculative and usually futile task unless you’re:

  • Stupid
  • A masochist 
  • Dr. Luke 

Ignoring any of that, Linus and I got crackalackin’ and started writing.  

As a teenage hit making juggernaut, the collaboration was sort of hopeless due to our lack of giving a shit about that kind of music extremely high standards. We kept writing anyhow.  Then things got kind of awesome.  So we started a band called Palmdale and now I’m happy again.  LET’S TWENTY-TEN!!!!!

Coming Soon.  Get Wasted, the boneriffic debut by Palmdale!

  

 

 

- xok 

 

Ummm…

October 9th, 2009

Sometimes I forget that Twitter and Facebook  give all of us a false sense of intimacy with one another. Sometimes I forget that I should watch what i say, but don’t we all these days? 

I Tweeted tonight about  blowing up the Moon thanks to a current news story that oddly mimicked one of my favorite Mr. Show skits.  A lot of people thought I was an asshole for wanting to blow up the Moon. 

 

I am kind of an asshole, but it has little to do with my opinions about space + shit.  

 

 

 

 

 

 

Naked On The Moon

September 29th, 2009

I’m not really a fan of exploiting my children for other people’s entertainment, but I feel that I need to make an exception in this case.

Ladies + Gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to Henry and his armpit hair, Gordon.

 

Lies + Damned Lies

August 13th, 2009

angry_mob_by_acwraith.jpg  

Just because you yell really loud at your opponent, it doesn’t necessarily follow that you are in possession of “truth” or “superior reasoning.”  In fact, typically it’s just the opposite.  In my experience, yelling is for people who have lost control of their emotions, usually in anger and/or frustration.  The thing about yelling, is that the yeller pretty much loses all credibility the minute they start yelling when the situation doesn’t seem to warrant it.  I know this because I’m a) a lead singer and, b) a mother.

 

As a grown up, it is always best to err on the side of caution when it comes to acting out on impulsive feelings of rage when you don’t have both sides of the story and thus, don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.  Just ask my manager, Creamer.  He could write a book on the subject, having had to deal with me for the last 20 years.  (That would be quite entertaining, come to think of it.  He should do that!). But he’s my manager.  I’m supposed to treat him like a lesser form of humanity or a lightening rod for everything bad that’s ever happened to me and deserves my wrath when my hotel room is on the 7th floor when I SPECIFICALLY said I wanted the 9th and he needs to know how bad he fucked up RIGHT NOW at 3am via this phone call and by the way who’s the jerk who scheduled the in-store at 11 in the fucking morning??!!  a rental car. 

There are different rules for these sorts of things.  Anyhoodles……

 

Look, there are perfectly legitimate reasons to yell at other people, even in public.  If some Porsche Cayenne driving bitch is texting and applying lipstick in the rearview mirror while simultaneously tailgating you on Ventura right before she rear ends you when you stop at a red light, I think yelling might be a fair reaction.  Or if someone threatens to kill your sweet old Grandma, yell away! Do some shoving, even.  I won’t judge you.  

BTW, in order for that last scenario to be relevant, one would have to be entirely certain that Grandma was being threatened.  You would have had to witness the threat as opposed to jumping to conclusions based on second hand information. For example, if a neighborhood troublemaker with a flair for hyperbolic drama has a well known grudge against the supposed “Granny Killer” for beating them in “The Best Person Ever” competition last year, and they tell a highly unlikely story about this otherwise reasonable person meaning to do harm to Grandma, one may want to get a bit of clarification before unleashing the crazy.  

 

 

 The key to my point here is assessing a normal emotional response to any given situation, including perceived threats and injustices in order to figure out whether someone is full of shit or not.  In the last 2 weeks, I have been seriously puzzled by the behavior of a small but very loud group of Americans who have been called to action by another small but very loud group of right-wing entertainers and agitators (notice I do not say Republicans) to angrily and loudly stamp out any public community discussion of health care reform.  

Are there really Americans out there that have been so untouched by the unfairness and sometimes cruelty of for-profit health insurance in our country that they would honestly resort to words like “fascist” and “euthanasia” and even the (unfortunately) de-fanged “HITLER!” at the mere suggestion that we go back to the drawing board for a second?  Is this conversation so wrought with peril that some are driven to screaming diatribes and violence against  their elected officials and fellow citizens?  

 

Personally, I don’t know anyone, nor have I heard of anyone who would say “My health insurance kicks ASS.  If I had to change it, I’d be super pissed.”  The reason for this is that a statement like that would not come out of anyone’s mouth.  If they were being honest.  Here’s the thing:  Nobody is suggesting that anybody change anything so if you’re stoked about your amazing health insurance company then continue to enjoy the hell out that relationship.  But unless your health insurance provider is personally administering the happy ending after that therapeutic “massage” or even just paying the bill for the colonoscopy without making you and your doctor fill out forms for 6 months, I think we could all do a little better.

 

 It is worth noting that health care reform is actually a misnomer. Health care in America is provided by the best doctors, nurses and hospitals in the world.  What we are actually trying to address is “health insurance reform.”  For profit health insurance companies are what stand in between millions of Americans and easy, cheap health care.  If you have good insurance now, lucky you.  Just make sure you don’t lose your job, especially if you have epilepsy, had a mole removed a few years ago or heartburn. Because if that’s the case you can go fuck yourself if you try and get private, non-employer based insurance coverage. 

 

Back to the pissed-off people at the town hall meetings.  If there was a town hall meeting in my district I would want to attend so that I could argue in favor of health insurance reform.  Not to go and make a political point, but to talk about how the relentless drive to increase profits to satisfy shareholders has fundamentally changed how people are able to take care of their health needs.  The privatizing of the industry has benefitted few but those who stand to profit by unconscionable denials of coverage and refusal to pay  legitimate claims.  This has affected my family and our financial well being on several occasions.  I would want to make an impassioned plea to my elected officials for not only a public option but a single payer system that would be run by the government.  Yes, I would want to argue the merits of the dreaded socialized medicine.  

 

I care about this issue a lot and if my one chance to speak to my representatives face to face was shot down by a bunch of screaming people that were bussed in from Rancho Cucamonga, I’d be pretty unhappy.  To put it mildly.  

 

I wrote about my own shitty health insurance experience here, but since writing that essay, my daughter was diagnosed with petit mal seizures, a condition which is not dangerous but one for which she will take medication for a few years.  Under our current for-profit health insurance system she will not be able to obtain private insurance because of this pre-existing condition.  My son, who nearly died in infancy of a respiratory virus, is in the same boat.  Sorry, Mr. Hannity, Mr. Levin and that other guy with the doughy face who’s always hysterical + weeping, personal responsibility does not apply here.  

 

But even if it did, so what?  When was the last time Dick Cheney or Rush Limbaugh quit smoking cigars, ran a fucking marathon and ate nothing but fish and vegetables?  Oh, wait.  They don’t need to.  They are both rich and have health insurance that neither is in danger of losing.  So if you smoke, eat McDonald’s, don’t go to the gym and lose your job, that’s your problem, fatass.  You should’ve thought of your personal responsibility to live up to a different standard than the rich blowhards convincing/scaring you to work against your own self interests  before your fat middle class ass became uninsurable, loser.

 

xok 

 

    

Humble Foreign Policy

June 23rd, 2009

It’s no secret that I listen to right wing radio.  To me, it’s the ultimate performance art.  In the last week, however, the bullshitty hypocrisy has been hard to find amusing.

Dubya ran on a faux Reagan platform of humility when it came to America’s involvement in international affairs based on specious arguments that Clinton had meddled needlessly, thus resulting in lost blood and treasure for no reason.  I mean, c’mon! If people in Somalia and the former “Yugoslavia” or whatever can’t stand up for themselves, then fuck them.  Right? 

Well, apparently not.  Apparently when an American President of the Democratic persuasion decides to exercise patience and wait for shit to play out in oh, I dunno, a sometimes sloppy and maybe even violent way?  Somewhat like the century long struggle before Reagan got to say “Mr. Gorbachev! Tear down this wall!!”?  Apparently that’s unacceptable. 

 Oh, how things change when Republicans want to reframe the argument.  Happily, nobody gives a shit about their arguments anymore.

The human desire for freedom and self determination is inherent in all of us.  Having clear examples of the experiences that define the struggle is what gives people the balls to take to the streets and fight for that human desire.  

The Iranian people, dare I say youth, are not acting out and taking to the streets because of any fear they may (and probably don’t) have of facing down American military might.  Instead, what used to be an inspirational abstraction,  the idea of a free population in a Muslim society, is taking hold.  The power of Western popular culture, bolstered by technology.  A whole new world that no bomb or gun could ever match.

 

I Still Have A Blog?

May 26th, 2009

Well in that case, now would be an excellent time to write a new one since I am being held hostage on this flight from Dallas to NY after playing a week of super fun rock shows with my old band, Letters To Cleo.  And I am in a writerly mood.

 me + the boyz in nola.

cleo.jpg 

greatest muffalletta ever.  i ordered the small and it was as big as my head. 

 muffaletta.jpg

Our first show was in New Orleans at a big outdoor party in Lafayette Sq.  Guess who our opening act was?  Oh, The Saints’ press conference announcing that the City of New Orleans would be hosting the 2013 Superbowl.  That was all kinds of awesome, but I would be remiss if I did not gently recommend that the both team + city might want to get crackalackin’ on having certain areas of their shit together before then.

 

Dan Foreman, the promoter of the show, took us on a destructo-tour (Dan, trademark that stat!) of the Lower 9th Ward and St. Bernard Parish, areas of the city that were decimated when the levees failed the day after Katrina hit.  I could not believe what my eyes were asking my brain to comprehend.  Words?  Naw.  See for yourself.   

sorry, mary. 

mary-2.jpg  

inside mary’s house. 

 inside-marys-house.jpg

 

 house-2.jpg

oh, the irony. 

 street-sign.jpg

4 years later, rebuilding slowly.. 

 new-houses.jpg

 

As I noted that day via Twitter, it was a bleak tourist attraction for sure, but it was fascinating.  I will be grateful forever that I had the opportunity to observe both the wreckage and rebuilding that are consequences of this unhappy American experience.

 

The rest of the week was spent sharing the bill with our pals Cruiserweight as we  rolled through the Texas triumvirate: Houston, Austin and Dallas. I ran into tons of friends along the way. I definitely consumed my yearly beer/BBQ quota in 3 days time and I have the big fat ass to prove it.  Nothing but wheatgrass and brown rice when I get back to LA.  Sheeyahh….

 

USA is on his way back to LA with Stacy and Paul so he’ll be squishing with Zoe + Henry within a few hours.  I’m on my way to NY to spend this evening celebrating my sister Elizabeth’s birthday in Brooklyn, a day recovering and meetings on Tuesday.  THEN I get to go home for squishes.  

-xok 

 

 

 

 

 

Letters To Cleo Rolls Out.

May 16th, 2009

cleo-tees.jpg

 

Me + the boys are hitting the road next week to indulge in beer drinkin’, pool shootin’ and most importantly, rocking your ass.  If you live in New Orleans, Houston, Austin or Dallas we’d love to see you.

May 20, 2009 
Lafayette Square Park, New Orleans, LA
500 block of St. Charles Avenue
Tickets: Free 
All ages
5:00 pm

May 21, 2009 
House Of Blues Bronze Peacock, Houston, TX
1204 Caroline Steet
Tickets: $15.50 in advance, $18.00 at the door 
All ages
9:00 pm
Also performing: Cruiserweight

May 22, 2009 
The Parish, Austin, TX
214 East 6th Street
Tickets: $16.00 in advance, $18.00 at the door 
All ages
9:00 pm
Also performing: Cruiserweight

May 23, 2009 
The Loft, Dallas, TX
1135 South Lamar
Tickets: $12.00 in advance, $17.00 at the door 

All ages 

 

Stuff & Things.

March 20th, 2009

kmollsfan.jpg 

 photo credit: steven

 

During a lovely evening of drinks and chit chat at Laurel Tavern with writer/comic/new media mogul, Jill Kushner,  I was hipped to The Molls Show, a web based blog/vlog/performance art thingy that Jill’s company FM78.tv is distributing.  As it turned out, Molls was looking for music to underscore a new video that she was editing and after talking to Jill the next day, she decided to use Don’t Drop A Bomb, a song that I wrote and recorded with Fannius for my last record, Weaponize.

After a flurry of emails between me, Fannius and Molls, it was decided that the ladies would come to Casa de Rocker to film shenanigans for the next webisode of The Molls Show.  They came, we acted like idiots, we got it all on tape.  The picture above is us filming our reaction to the infamous vomit porn, 2 Girls 1 Cup.  We felt that there aren’t enough of those floating around already.

 

xok 

The Best Opening Lyrics Ever (pt 1)

March 8th, 2009

I am the son and the heir of a shyness that is criminally vulgar.

- How Soon Is Now?  The Smiths 

 

You were working as a waitress at a cocktail bar when I met you.

- Don’t You Want Me Baby?  Human League  

 

Am I the manager or am I not?

- Am I The Manager Or Am I Not?  Centro-Matic

 

 In the day we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream.

- Born To Run  Bruce Springsteen   

 

She was a fast machine she kept her motor clean.     *ed. note: um, eww? 

- You Shook Me All Night Long   AC/DC

 

Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high.

- Somewhere Over The Rainbow   Dorothy 

 

What’s with these homeys dissing my girl?

- Buddy Holly  Weezer 

 

We were lovers, we were kissers, we were holders of hands we were make-believers.

- I’m Still In Love  The Stills 

 

Nicotine, valium, vicodin, marijuana, ecstasy and alcohol.  Cocaine.

- Feel Good Hit Of The Summer   QOTSA

 

Her green plastic watering can for her fake chinese rubber plant in fake plastic earth.

- Fake Plastic Trees  Radiohead 

 

I’m realizing now that this task is utterly insane.  I could sit here for hours and still keep thinking of more and more songs with amazing opening lyrics.  Feh.  So yes, I know this list is incomplete but the sunshine awaits and I must go bask in its glorious rays.  I ain’t even gonna wear no sunscreen neither.  Check me out, living recklessly.

 

Daylight savings is retarded.  I don’t like it.

 

 -xok