Let the apocalypse commence!

...because Big Yawn has done something I actually liked! Yes, I know. I've either gone soft or we must now make way for dogs and cats to rut like Hilton sisters in the streets of our fair burg. But seriously, Big Yawn's 10 DC CD's for 2004 is...is...(let me pause for breath, here)...quite good. Very good, actually. And, it's not "good" because "The DCeiver agrees with it." No. In fact, we do not "agree." But it is "good" because we've been dying for something out of this site that felt like someone was putting their critical neck out--and here someone has. This modest list, whether product by committee or not, doesn't feel like it anyway. Rather, it feels like it has a little gumption, a little ego. It's hard to put into words what we like about this, as opposed to what we didn't like about virtually everything else--let's just say that we feel like a critic ought to stand at the plate and point over the wall, and that this list for the first time sends a message: "Fuck it. This is what Big Yawn thinks."

Well, we promised we'd praise as readily as we'd slag. So there you have it. Big Yawn did something really good. Hallelujah.

Somebody needs to change out the Fishbowl.

Hey kids. The DCeiver spent the tail end of last week and this entire weekend being super disgustingly and harrowingly sick out of our minds, with some horrible bacterial bronchial seven alarm fire in our chest that made moving from our favorite orange easy chair to the shitter an ordeal of asthma-gasping perplexity that I wouldn't wish it on anyone, especially the people who gave it to me in the first place.

So, it's been a rough handful of days for The DCeiver, cut off from the people he loves, lounging in his own sweat, and generally having his brain numbed by the seemingly diverse amount of crime procedurals that are on daytime television.

Now that we're back, however, and as long as we're on the subject of seeming diversity, it seems that while we were out, the people at MediaBistro let loose with a mighty wind and released FishbowlDC into the world.

This is obviously what came of the solicitation for a paid blogger that came through DCist some months back, but it's tough to see what purpose Fishbowl is supposed to serve. It's billed as a "gossip" blog, but a gossip blog that centers on media itself is like the serpent that eats its own tail using a powerful shrink ray to report live from his own duodenum. Mostly, the content isn't bad, but it feels like stuff Poynter should cover--or probably has already covered, and it's all overheated under microwave gloss to affect that Gawkeresque tone. It's supposed to be "irreverent", but mostly it's just lame. It's also sort of sad that visually, MediaBistro bit the steez of the usual suspects pretty hard.

Now, this whole enterprise has been billed by some as some sort of Blogtastic version of Kill Bill with founding Gawk Elizabeth Spiers dressed up all purty in the yellow tracksuit and looking to lay down the jujitsu on her former creation. But if that's the case, then the Bistro's million dollar baby's got no punch right out of the blocks. It's so unfortunate to have to read the labored sass and flopsweat that already permeates the whole site.

But that's what a fishbowl is, I guess. A dish full of dead things floating on the surface.

DCeptette: Walk Idiot Walk Version

1. Oh, my. They should NOT have arrested Handshake Man. That was a big mistake. Bush had better make amends before that dude unleashes his Plague of a Thousand Sores on his ass. (Why I Hate DC)
2. Craigslister asks, "Where are my Republican sluts?" Well, if you were a real go-getter, you'd have done very well by yourself. Just ask this guy. But, if you want to know where all the Republican sluts are, the answer is simple: Darden.
3. Pro-Lifers brave the wintry cold to march on DC, tie up the 14th street bridge. Heck, you have to admire their dedication. Here's what's funny: not one of them signed up for my March for Prenatal Care or my March for Paid Family Leave or my March for Well-Funded Schools or my March for Good Jobs So That Parents Can Raise Their Kids or my March for Health Care Coverage for Children or my March Against Trying Children as Adults in Death Penalty Cases. I wonder why that is? (Reuters)
4. I know it's out of character for you Adam, but could you just this one time indulge yourself by laying out $48,000 in ones and rolling around on top of them in the nude? You so know you want to. (DCist)
5. Nationwide poll indicates that 82% of the nation, apparently swept away in all that inaugural talk of freedom being on some sort of march, favor full voting priviledges for Washington, DC. Congressional Republicans are quick to pooh-pooh the poll, stating: "Yeah, but that probably includes the 60 or so percent of the public too stupid to realize that there was no connection between Iraq and 9-11. Like we're going to take their advice." (Post)

John Basedow, begin again...

Surf's up.

If you are an area fan of fitness wunderkind John Basedow's local commercials, there's good news. Rumors of Mr. Basedow's demise have been greatly exaggerated. Apparently, he did not drown in the tsunami after all. According to the Fitness Made Simple website, Basedow has never even been to Thailand and was safe at home on the 26th of December.

One of the reasons the false story has not been quelched effectively is a webmastering issue--the "Important Notice" regarding Basedow's continued washboard health is embedded as an image, which does not make for friendly relationships between this information and the darling web-crawlers from Googs.

Someone at FMS ought to fix that up so that the truth about Basedow could get some more play. Additionally, would this be a good moment to come out with "Fitness Made Slightly More Complicated Owing to the Need to Retain a Small Portion of Body Fat for the Purpose of Buoyancy"?

Calling All Enthusiasts!!

GET CALLED A "MAGGOT"!
What do I mean by that? Dude, tonight at Olsson's, freaky jingoist, Marine-veteran-turned-Hollywood character actor R. Lee Ermey is going to be in the hizzy, signing books, and telling all the Arlingtonians where they can stick their populist leanings. This dude is damn near crazy, got killed by Vincent D'Onofrio in Full Metal Jacket, and apparently will be selling a 12-inch action figure of himself that you can/should use as a motivational tool, though, to be honest, most of you will probably use in some sort of hot ass-play, like you should. (7pm tonight, 2111 WIlson Boulevard)

MORE SINGER-SONGWRITERS THAN YOU CAN SHAKE A STICK AT
This Saturday, the good folks at DC9 have impaneled a glorious collection of local singer-songwriter talent, and we're not talking about a bunch of hairshirt wearing dipshits who roam county fairgrounds and fleabitten coffeeshops like mangy basset hounds in search of someone who'll sell them some essential oils. Join Justin Jones, Monopoli's Alfonzo Velez, the Hard Tomorrows' Manny Bernardo and the linkless Katie Grove for an evening of hot songwriter-on-songwriter action. (1940 9th Street NW, $10)

POLITICAL MEMORABILIA SHOW
We are willing to bet that a bunch of you people in town for the Inauguration are going to get snowed in this weekend and need something to do Saturday (since you're all Republicans, and thus have more money than Croesus, it's unlikely you did the thrifty thing and got a Saturday stayover anyway). Well, head on down to the National Press Club and check out their collection of political memorabilia. It's the first-ever show of its kind at the NPC, and there will be an auction to raise money for minority scholarships. I know, I know, how dare they suggest minority students should get to attend college. It's a blue-state thing, you wouldn't get it. (529 14th Street, NW, from 9-2pm)

DCeptette: I've Been a Bad, Bad Girl Version

1. I am trying to break into the 9:30 club. Duh. We bet this posting is from Jay Bennett (Craigslist)
2. A bad omen? Amtrak uncomfortably reminds President Bush of how despite his rhetoric, he'll never ever ever really end the practice of spending tax money on programs that seem stupid (at first blush anyway). (Post)
3. Jesus. What is UP with Governor Ehrlich's insatiable hard-on for slots? I thought that you were supposed to call a doctor after four hours! We see a great campaign slogan for Ehrlich though: "Re-Elect Ehrlich: I've Got Nothing and I'm All Out of Ideas!" (Post)
4. Now, if one of you had told me Wednesday that Fiona Apple was going to be in town yesterday, I would have definitely taken to the streets and burned something down. (The Reliable Source)
5. Check out the new and improved sidebar. Old, new, borrowed and long overdue links to things hither and yon. We're most excited to bring you links to fellow DCist Zoe Mitchell's sites, Tres Chicas and A Ten a Five and Five Ones, Zoe being the only other person in town who could commiserate with me about writing way too many blogs. Oy.

Personal Inaugural Aftermath

Well, there's actually not a whole lot of aftermath for me. Except that my car is inspected. And it passed. So, good for me.

Actually, the Washington Post said that 800 people showed up at the Casa Del Pueblo to see Anti Flag and Q and not U last night. Damn, son, that's a lot of people. I'm sure Randy Baker's already changed all of his publicity copy so that it says each Rorschach show is actually a Q and not U concert. Of course, 800 people in the rehearsal space--tonight at rehearsal, that whole room is going to smell like the Green Party. Bleccchh.

Actuellement, the first round of publicity copy for The Scarlet Letter said: "Catch Scarlet Fever!" Now, I'm no marketing genius, but I'm thinking that tagline ended up being way better than the original: "Catch Chlamydia!" I don't know. That one was certainly provocative, but just a shade off-message.

Now, join me, won't you, in what traditionally happens whenever I tell Rorschach tales out of school: Scott C. sees something Randy didn't tell him and gets cross that he had to read about it in The DCeiver. Randy, can't you tell that Scott misses you now that you aren't roommates? You should really make some time each day, just to talk. Or go over to his house and walk through his bedroom unannounced in your bathrobe, carrying a six-pack, for auld lang syne.

Send some kind thoughts over to Information Leaf Blower.

Today was lousy on many levels, but no one had as low a day as fellow DCist Kyle, who had to put his kitty Jarvis to sleep today. Twas just last spring the DCeiver had to do the same to one of the Cats of DCeiver, Cleome, and I know how wrenching it feels to have to do it, though it is, at the same time, a very humane act that speaks volumes about our capacity for compassion. As many pet owners know, one of the big benefits we receive from inviting animals into our intimate lives is that their companionship has been shown to help us live longer. It's ironic, on that regard, that there will always be days like Kyle's for anyone who brings a pet into their life. Yet, for this reason and many more, you can bet that our animal friends undoubtedly reap rich rewards in the next life for the joy they bring us in this one--they undoubtedly have many fun things to do, and you can be sure they do absolutely none of them, opting instead for 14 hours a day of sleep. So leave some nice words for Kyle if you get a chance.

Don't you hate it when The DCeiver gets all sentimental? Well, tomorrow we'll get back to comparing various people to various testicles, I'm sure.

When we practice to DCeive

DCSOB is right.

Hell, he's been having the most on-point month a blogger can have, but that is not the point.

The point is, this:

Many years ago the Promise Keepers came to town. On that day, I happened to be rehearsing in the nave of St. Marks Church at 3rd and A, SE. A gaggle of PK wives, their husbands having left them behind to go pray to God for the strength to not feast on the flesh of more desirable, pleasant looking, and less malodorous women. These ladies waddled into the nave, where I was standing with a couple of other people. Believing us to be informed parishoners, they asked us a bunch of questions, and I did my best to answer them. When they turned to go, I said: "Wait. You know, if you are looking to spend some time this evening in the area Christian community, why don't you come back here tonight? We're having our annual Saint Vitus Dance!" They perked up and one said: "Sounds like fun!" I smiled at the thought of these confused lipidbags returning in the evening, asking after a child's rheumatic disease.

See, we are a creative people, here in the Washington area. We're a damn sight better than a passel of neo-Maoists with puppets. Most of the people who are visiting have the Robert Novakian view of us, though, that we're a bunch of Marion Barry worshipping, murderous, freeloaders. Look, you can line the parade route and scream and throw things and get your kneecaps broke, or you can spend the day doing what I'd recommend: smile at our guests, welcome them to the area, and then direct them to either the most confusing parts of town or the most dangerous.

So...have fun today! And if nothing else, if anyone asks you for directions, simply reply: "Oh, I'm sorry sir, you've obviously confused me for some tri-corner hat wearing Colonial Williamsburg tour guide! Now, if you wouldn't mind, why don't you die of confusion over on that patch of snow, because we need these sidewalks free of carcass today."

The Good News is that you can start the timer again.

The DCeiver will be spending inauguration day making his automobile legal again. It's so cold out there. Weather is very reminiscent of William Henry Harrison's inaugural. It'd be swell if there were some more things to come that reminded me of William Henry Harrison.

Through the power of my acoustic TiVo--or "VCR"--I have captured last night's West Wing. (I hope!) So look for your study guide here sometime today or tonight.

And we welcome those of you from the DC Elite MSN Group. Make yourself at home.

Daily Show Segment on DC

Bob Wiltfong or however you spell his name did a hilarious correspondent piece in DC for The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. Hilaricakes. If you missed it, it'll rerun tomorrow at 7pm and 11:30pm.

Honestly, I don't know what I found funnier: Councilman Evans being referred to as "The White Guy" and made to look like the dweebie he is, the folks in Ben's Chili Bowl with their matter-of-fact ripostes on the Inauguration or the wonderful end bit where he asks a masseuse to "do the nipples." But I'll tell you who I like the best: Lawrence the 80's sweater wearing, always on point snark machine, biting back with gusto. If The DCeiver catches you at Ben's, Lawrence, we're totally buying your lunch.

The one thing I wished TDSwJS covered was the hotel package that provides two actors to pose as your personal Secret Service agents. First, you have to be a douchebag to voluntarily play a secret service agent for out of town pricks attending the inaugural. Second, you have to be a long, tall, drink of asswipings from concentrate to actually hire two people to follow you around portraying secret service agents. Third, you have to be some kind of brick to the skull, noncompoopy bitch-ass to be so insensitive to what's going on in the world--I mean, it was only yesterday some clown and his gas tank of reknown were downtown making with the threats--those were REAL lives at stake, you let's-pretend-we're-somebody-important-when-chances-are-the-life-you've-led-has-been-one-of-such-intense-head-scratching-selfishness-that-I-doubt-anyone-really-would-cry-if-you-were-killed-by-a-dirty-bomb-tomorrow-taint-wrangler.

However, to have the vision to see the comic possibilities of fake secret service agents on the loose in DC, in over their head and forced into a escalating series of comical incidents, and convert that into a screenplay, well, then you'd have to be brilliant. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to see if Michael Bay is still awake.

Surviving Inauguration: A Message of Safety from the DCeiver and the Department of Homeland Security

The DCeiver and the good folks at the Department of Homeland Security, remind you that everything is totally going to be okay this week for inauguration, despite the little performance of THE GASMAN COMETH many of you witnessed yesterday evening. Safety and security is easily obtained. By the filthy rich, anyway. The rest of you should heed the following advice, pictorally rendered.

Terrorists are everywhere, and their tactics are surprising. You should be ready for terrorists to attack you with anything, including boring discussions on the periodic table of elements, attempts at plying you with extra organs to add to your alimentary canal, and even a well thrown handful of navy beans.




When planning your escape, the Office of Homeland Security definitely recommends you take the time to really overthink things.




Be aware: in the event of an emergency--fuck those Missouri bastards.




If your wireless network goes down during a terrorist emergency, try cutting the cords off of your outdated appliances.




You may find yourself casually contemplating biological war when a terrorist disguised as a midget-sized can of Right Guard attacks. If this happens, haughtily turn on your heel and walk away.



It is useful during these times to be able to pass for Muslim. A simple washcloth can serve as an emergency burqa. Alternatively, a towel wrapped around the head or a T-Shirt emblazoned with pro-Allah sentiments will also serve. In a pinch, the glowing whiteness of your iris and pupil will lead terrorists to believe that you are part of the Armies of the Undead, and they will give you a wide berth.



Be sure to wash your hands thoroughly of the consequences before you inform on one of your neighbors or parents.



The sweet, delectable aroma of Homeland Security may be difficult to take in large doses. Please consume in moderation.



The floating, smoking bloodshot eye is a sign that you may be trapped inside a Blue Oyster Cult video. Turn off the lights, bathe in Pepto Bismol and don't fear the reaper. It will be over shortly.



Uppity, self-righteous women have seriously degraded the structural integrity of the glass ceiling that protects you at work, but cowering like a little man-child is not going to help any, you fucking pussy.

In the event of an emergency, do not trust Michael Jackson.



We prefer our homosexuals to be straight-acting, straight-appearing.




There's no telling when your ass is gonna get served by an agent of al-Qaeda, so citizens should be constantly vigilant and prepared to break dance at the first sign of trouble.



When the terrorist threat is over, assist the economic recovery by heading to New York and taking in a performance of Mamma Mia! at the Winter Garden.




The fact that we have to tell you not to go into a burning building pretty much says it all, eh, losers?



If trapped under debris, try using the awesome power of your cock.



Remember, however, that even in a terrorist emergency, the Department of Justice maintains that he who "smelt it", in the eyes of the law, has "dealt it."



If you find yourself tied to a pole with the angry left-wing frontman from Midnight Oil, blow on your Homeland Security whistle to alert Judge Chertoff.



Do not answer the door for any stray radioactive materials, even if they say they totally have an extra pair of Arcade Fire tickets.



Austin's nightlife is radioliciously exciting!




When you're feeling blue, and feel the whole world is against you, rent your own personal rain cloud and crawl around on your hands and knees. It's the best way to elicit sympathy from your peers.



Disembody circle hand of God karate chop Evil Exit Man bad orange arrows! HiiiiYA!




Damn, bitch! Don't take no smack from yo' crown moldin' an' shit. Show that sucka tha hand and bust outcha mo' shnizzle.



Don't buy those file cabinets at Staples you idiot! Are you nuts?! They mark their prices up 150, sometimes 200%! Go to an Office Supply Warehouse, or get off your ass and do a little internet research to find a Wholesaler in the area. Jesus, what am I, made of money?!




The potent combo of crack cocaine and blaring death metal affects different people in remarkably different ways. Find out beforehand if you're more likely to curl up in a little ball and shiver or more likely to suddenly take off running somewhere. This will help you decide what shoes to wear to the crack den.



OH SHIT, SCIENTISTS CREATED A GIANT DAVID ARQUETTE AND HE'S JUST OVER THAT HILL!! TURN AROUND! TURN AROUND!




In cockfighting as in other martial arts challenges, it is necessary to properly salute your opponent prior to engaging in your battle for crotch supremacy.




Jesus, nobody's gonna want to steal that piece of shit, so you can take the No Radio sign out of your back windshield.

If a plane hits or a bomb goes off in the really tall building you are in, we'd like to remind you with this easy to solve maze puzzle that your life is worth about as much as the lab rat that solved it.





Hey, Red Cross employee! Why don't you get your jaunty ass to work and treat some of my open motherfucking wounds?




Al-Qaeda may have already obtained weaponized nuclear families. Attend lacrosse practice at your own risk.