it's been a nice weekend. that slithering hussy pelowski graced our lovely town with her dirty presence just in time for grandma's marathon... the one day of the year where duluth feels a bit like a smaller version of new york city. except shitty country music is blaring from the speakers that line canal park and seven people stop you on the street and ask you how to get to grandma's (even though you happen to be standing in its parking lot). the weather was perfect, however, which is good. it made me feel bad for cursing the runners and praying for rain. (there's a story to that, but it's not important. just assume i'm a bitch.)

there are two things of importance today.

per request, i've decided to post/upload my five most-listened-to songs of the week, because a) i'm nice like that, and b) you all need to listen to my music. i'm going to call this recurring post the sunday 5. i need some sort of new recurring theme, seeing as twenty minutes of anniemosity fizzled out pretty quickly (which was probably for the best... it wasn't even holding my attention, much less, yours.)

the sunday 5.
1. the white stripes: the denial twist.
--the only good tune off their new album. i'm so disappointed. i'm still going to see them in august and i still love jack white more than words, but god, this album is not what it should be. this song is hot, though. hot. as hot as jack used to be. hottie mchotterson. um................ it's hot.

2. outkast: southernplayalisticadillacmuzik.
--old-school, ghettofabulous outkast is as cool as the new-school, hip outkast. this is one of those songs that you'll find yourself humming the chorus to as you're making ramen and wonder what the hell it is and where the hell it came from and why the hell you're not listening to it right now.

3. guns 'n roses: rocket queen.
--i heard this song on a local cock rock station this weekend and forgot what a good tune it is. it may seem like a cliché guns 'n roses song, but slash shows his six stringed prowess in a way that's required listening, despite axl's orgasm-like noises in the background. the change in the song comes about 4 minutes into the song, so if you're bored, wait it out, because it's worth it.

4. the beatles: she's leaving home.
--the last song i listened to in the 217b apartment. fitting. a beautifully melancholy song. (plus i'm really impressed by the high notes these boys can hit.)

5. magnet (feat. gemma hayes): lay lady lay.
--a cover of bob dylan's song for the "mr. & mrs. smith" soundtrack. the strings, the horns, the male voice... it's... it's nice. it's pretty. it's sweet. i dig it, despite gemma hayes.

i wanted to put up "my michelle" by guns 'n roses because that was played in high rotation this week, but i don't want to overwhelm you with too much axl. maybe next week.
feel free to upload songs for me. reciprocation is nice, as is yousendit.
i also like knowing what other people listen to. that's why the celebrity playlists on itunes are cool. (that, and their liner notes are pretty fucking hilarious sometimes. best excerpt ever, care of sammy hagar's playlist: "mas tequila" by sammy hagar & the waboritas -- favorite drinking song." ass.)

so the other piece of importance today is this:



i like to call it the swing of truth.

it resides on our front porch, and whether you're sharing a cigarette, recovering from the best superhero movie you've ever seen, attempting to drunkenly focus on the dim stars in the dark sky, or basking in the warmth of the sun on the most beautiful day duluth has had for a long time, serious bonding happens. it's a phenomenon that cannot be explained or denied. i've learned a lot about numerous people while sitting here, and i really feel that it's because of the swing. perhaps the wood is from an old family of enchanted trees, flowing with sap that could be extracted into some kind of truth serum. while i'm not one hundred percent sure if that's true or not, it's a fact that with each uncomfortable squeak of the metal chain, you will feel more and more at ease telling me your dark pasts, obscure fetishes, secret vendettas, and/or the current state of your bizarre obsession with pauly shore.

of course i cannot repeat the information i've learned in the swing of truth, but believe you me, you'll spill your secrets the second your bottom hits that wooden frame (maybe the second after, because everyone always looks to the overhang it's attached to and says, "is this really safe?").

i start my new job tomorrow, so i should probably take the time to do absolutely nothing while i can.

clifford out.