NBC is pulling out on iTunes and they're going to begin streaming shows for free from their Web site.

A strongly-worded article, with good comments, on the iTunes vs Pirating dilemma. I've been annoyed by iTunes low quality sound files for some time. Funny how something can be so great and so sucky at the same time. C'mon Apple!

Sometimes, brothers and sisters, my heart is filled with so much love that I want to just throw my arms around all of you and give you sloppy wet kisses on the mouth and get all naked and dance in the mud like it's 1969. And other times I want to burn every bridge I've ever built and cut the head off of this blog and tell you all to fuck off. But today, I've just come here to declare this: I'm jealous of all the people at my gym with their white, white shoes.

Anyway, let me get to the point: all of this is a very long-winded (and, yes, self-indulgent) way of me saying that if you're in DC or NYC you can (and should) catch The Jones at one of these two shows.

The weird part wasn't that Honey, you know ... spoke. It was that she spoke with an English accent. It wasn't exactly a proper, "Received English" kind of English, but it wasn't quite an East End of London, Cockney type of thing, either. It reminded me of the Beatles. She had a sort of nasal thing going on. Like John.

A little plug for a friend's band, who could open for Coldplay.

This is an album you need to listen to naked and sweating in an un-air-conditioned room with a slow-spinning fan overhead. Not that I've done that. Twice.

The memes have been flying all over the place lately. And I got hit in the crossfire. Twice. One in each leg. So here we go, six plus seven, plus one. Random/Weird/Quirky.

This past Christmas, during a group outing to the mall to put Christmas money to good use, C's mom wound up buying "The Story So Far", a 2-CD "Best Of" compilation of Rod Stewart hits. My outward reaction to this purchase was cool, non-committal enthusiasm. Inwardly, however, my reaction was ...

C went to California this weekend, and I went to Southpaw Prison in Brooklyn with A & K and a few others to watch Johnny Cash perform.

Casey Dienel has been in pretty heavy rotation on my iPod for close to a year now. Especially the song "Frankie and Annette," which I frequently put on "Repeat One," a setting also known as "OCD? What OCD?"

I've always fancied myself an aficionado of the pop culture, particularly of any variety born or raised in the 80s or 90s. And while I'm not the encyclopedia of information that my friend Mitch is, I am, perhaps, something of an abridged coffee-table reference. Or maybe a pocket dictionary.