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Archive for November, 2010

we here at the offices of casual friday are hotly anticipating the impending press conference at nasa on thursday. the topic of which will be “astrobiology” and one of saturn’s moons in laypersons terminology we are pretty sure they are talking aliens. now, for those of you who don’t know, aliens top the list of anxieties that populate our collective closets. we will naturally be following this topic very closely and will let you and yours know if you should start mixing the kool aid now, or if we can save that mass exodus for another day…

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with a four day emancipation looming large, a short seven hours from where we now stand, we here at casual friday would like to share with you all our most favorite thanksgiving memories in recent years.

to begin this story, we must first maneuver ourselves into your deepest of confidences dear readers. you see, much as kurt vonnegut jr. said, we too “have this disease late at night sometimes, involving alcohol and the telephone”. basically, the shitty teen deep inside of us still compels us, alcohol and night non-withstanding, to pick up the phone and call strangers. why? because life is short and well-made crank calls are the things that heaven are made of. an example: our dear cousin once got in serious trouble for placing several crank calls to a woman she found the phonebook by the name of madonna cotton to ask her if she was a material girl. brilliant. we still get chills thinking about it.

now crank calls to civilians are great, but if one is to get their hands on a celebrity’s phone number, well friends, magical things can ensue.

with those confessions and digressions behind us, let us find ourselves in the living room in a little corner of hell that we at casual friday inhabited some five or so years ago. in our company was a merry band of loadie pranksters and our aforementioned crank-calling cousin. we at casual friday have made a tradition of having what we call a “pie party” late on thanksgiving evening. it isn’t the debauched lesbian porn party it sounds like, but instead people come over and eat pie, drink whiskey and bitch about their respective obligations earlier in the day. this particular year, we were joined by the talented cartoonist brother of our dear friend, who happened to have in his possession, by hap stance of an interview he conducted for a local magazine in a city we cannot name, the cellular phone number for one kato kaelin. let that sink in a minute. kato kaelin’s phone number.

needless to say as the night wore on, calls were placed. kato had either failed to pay his cellular bill or his inbox was filled with offers of guest house stays and movie deals, for we never reached him or his voicemail. however it is the thought that counts, and on cold nights, we warm ourselves with the beautiful memory of holding in our trembling hands, the ten digits of the ultimate crank call on earth.

may your holidays be bright and filled with whatever it is you are thankful for. and should you have the happy occasion of finding a minor pop culture celebrity’s number in your sweating hands, please do drop us a line. we will make it worth your efforts.

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the sweetness of revenge

somewhere in his sty don perata is doing backflips in the heavenly slop that is a sweet revenge paired with a degree of media exposure… as the story goes, mayor elect jean quan has had a little, well deficiency in the whole “paying parking tickets” department and hence owes approximately 1k- no small potatoes. thus ms. quan found her adult-contemorary silver prius be-booted this brisk morning. now, how does don “pigshit” perata figure into this sordid equation? well, the company that holds the contract for the city of oakland booting and towing is called berry brothers. now, there has always been a close relationship between berry brothers towing and mr. perata, they are regular campaign contributors for his various elections over the years and we have some second hand gossip (which might not be good but the source tends to be pretty credible and thus must remain that which is not named) perata helped secure berry brothers towing contract with the city many years back. berry brothers also contributed pretty heftily to the campaign of hodge, who was, as discussed in earlier posts played a low-grade george w. to don perata’s dick cheyne… now, we aren’t saying that perata orchestrated this booting, but you KNOW he’s got to be loving it.

jean, baby, you gotta pay the piper. don’t make us regret having voted for you- that small fact won’t prevent us from ripping you a new one should the opportunity arise…

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we here at casual friday have been fiercely and hotly and wantingly trying to fall in love with one los angeles, california for the past ten years. and always we fail. however this last waftage did put us directly into a small weird part of la that wasn’t so hellish and didn’t render us desperate for the crunch of glass between our teeth.  for those of you dear readers who have yet to be inundated, we here at the offices of casual friday are, both by spirituality and by birthright, deeply tropical creatures. were we to possess feathers they would be the color of guavas and sunsets. so naturally one would think that los angeles would appeal to us- not quite the case. try as we might we never quite do walk away with anything short of a migraine. however, this past trip, despite two poignant acts of ineptitude on the part of one delta airlines, we had a pretty good time. let us now share with you our brief late-fall vacation.

1. plane left an hour late and we got the happy pleasure of sitting next to a slightly mailable and totally belligerent teenage girl who was feeling very “trapped” and wanted to know “why things never work out right”. we here at casual friday took the additional plane-taxing moments to partake in some fulfilling philanthropy and doled out some explanations to this particular teen about the birds and the bees of the modern condition life- dullards and bullshit. it wasn’t directly solicited, yet we at least do feel that it was pretty well received.

2. met our esteemed nephew for the first time. very cute kid. likes to laugh a lot. doesn’t cry much. literally was born with and still has a devil-lock- totally rad.

3. the weather was overcast, so the douche bags were down to a minimum. we somehow managed to navigate the 3rd and santa monica boulevard areas without having a complete exorcist-style melt down.

4. our brother took some time from his day to show us the new foodcourt at some mall. we did not eat there, we were just shown the view and left just as baffled as when we first arrived.

5. finding out that our brother refers to pink floyd’s “the wall” as “the bible”

6. an intolerable amount of time spent on the tarmac sitting next to yet another teen, but this one was surly and coated in ck one.

and that, mes amies, was what we did on our sojourn to los angeles.

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there are dying lights to be raged against, thus we here at casual friday are taking our show on the road this weekend to sunny southern california. los angeles has never really appealed to our collective scurrilous natures, but we are going to do the best we can with what we have.

we will naturally reconvene our acquaintanceship with you, dear readers, on sunday. may this 48 hour emancipation for the drudgery of work prove to be all you ever wanted.

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dear god, ron “9-5 blows” dellums has done it again. we are at work very early today and perusing the sf chronicle and happened upon an article detailing the finer points of dellums deep-seated narcissism which manifested itself in a 68 page self pleasuring document he issued in lieu of actually attending the state of the city address.

now, we’re not going to lie, we have not read the whole thing. but we have read approximately 80% of it, and frankly it reads like career porn for professional, albeit dillusional, squares.

let us show you the documents through the laser-like, yet tired, eyes of the casual friday team of political analists- you can trot this out over the weekend when you are out wowing studs with your insight into the political workings of oakland and the greater alameda county- it’s on us.

so really this 68 page fantasia is basically a blow-by-blow account of all of the greatness that ron dellums has “accomplished” over the past four years- really it reads like an overwrought resume. some of the highlights include:

1. two months of midnight basketball

2. eliminating “sideshow” activities

3. acquiring state-of-the-art technology (so the city got some new laptops?)

4. “responded to civil unrest after the verdict from the bart shooting trial” (as in attendance spectators to the aforementioned, we are going to have to heartily disagree)

5. “quadrupled public skating attendance” at the oakland ice rink

6. distributed 1,750 bike helmets

when it gets to the point when innane shit like this makes the list of great accomplishments to ones major mayoral resume, and paired it with the level of gradure that dellums operated in, we think that the only graceful exit out is taking it like a man and just drinking the hemlock.

ronnie- happy trails to you. and you dear casual friday readers, should you wish to gloss over this hand-job, here is the link… http://oaklandnet.com/

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so with the elections behind us, questions have been asked regarding ron “fuck work” dellums, namely if he is going to cut early or stick it out until the end of his term. now, dellums has basically be deeply enmeshed in the peaceing out process since he first showed up late to work at the start of his mayoral term in 2006. now, we hate work just as much as the next person, so we get this attitude. however, dellums took his distain for indignity of having to earn ones living one step further in a 2007 interview, bitchily stating “i’m giving it everything that i have. if that’s not enough, that’s cool.” awesome. we feel that way with clock like regularity as well mr. dellums.

but like everything in its last death throes, nature gets unpredictable. and now dellums is bitching that he won’t leave office before the end of his term in january- if he shows up to work one day between now and january our heads will explode. or something like that. frankly we’re baffled by his motives… you never showed up, why show down? perhaps he is trying to buy some time on stalling the $252,000 in back taxes he owes…

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happy unfriend day!

happy un-friend day. hoping you and yours made the cut.

(we here at casual friday find the thought that facestupid has spurred its own “holiday” to be simply vomit inducing)

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we do declare…

we have been buried under the weight of two million boxes at home and three million declarations to be written at our daily indignity. however, we do solemnly swear to inundate you all with some colorful posts later today once the clouds of this busy-work shit storm subside…

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adulthood in retrograde

just an observation on how the self copes with stress- things around our rapidly approaching leap into the unknown have been, well, busy. utilities to turn off. personal affects to evaluate the sentimental worth versus the physical exertion that it takes to propel them to our new domicile. letting all of our comrades with whom we correspond, the real way- with stamps and paper, know our new address. remembering to buy light bulbs. performing personal exorcisms in the attempt to forget those things that hide in drawers and fissures; to chase off those ghosts that haunt us. and all the while, we are simultaneously preparing for upcoming sojourns to los angeles to meet our newest, smallest, family member and then a several week-long romp to the aina to get our bearings grasped and noses sun burnt.

so yeah, shits been busy. real busy.

and in the face of all of this blatantly “grown up” behavior we are having to exhibit in our daily public lives, which is obviously suspect to the very cores of our beings, we’ve noticed that in our personal moments alone a certain retrograde of adulthood. these are all pretty minor- reading young adult books, evenings of drinking syrupy liquors, listening to the 1990-2000 musical catalogs for subpop, epitaph, lookout, alternative tentacles… you know, the big guns of pissing off the parents.

lets put it this way: an operation ivy cassette has been blasting from the speakers of our adult contemporary mid-sized sedan since late october. bass cranked up, windows rolled down… what does this all mean? well, when we finally have the luxury of sitting down, why don’t you mosey on over and have a beer with us and we can walk with dead leaves crunching under our feet and discuss the finer points of personal de-evolution and its function in keeping ones shit together and ones ducks in a row.

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