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Showing posts from November, 2006

Here I am. Rock you like a hurricane.

This will be me tomorrow. Well, if I were made out of legos, that is. Do you like hot music? Do you like reasonably-priced drinks? Do you like getting good n' saucy, whilst shakin what yo mama gave you? Most importantly, do you live in Hamburg, Germany?! If you answered "yes" to any of the questions above (ok, well at least that last one), then you should get your ass to Rudolf-Laun-Haus tomorrow night, where I'll be behind the wheels of steel from 10pm - midnight (followed from midnight - 2am by Andre) and slingin' dranks from 2:30am - 4am. If you say the secret phrase when I'm behind the bar, the drink's on the house...

Filter Post #36 - "...and it feels like 'ooooh', but you don't know my name..."

For a very long time (until about 10th grade), the only two people on the planet who were allowed to call me "Rave" (without pissing me off) were 1.) my dad and 2.) my oldest and dearest friend, Dr. U.G. Anytime anyone else called me "Rave" or "Ravey" or any other variation on my first name, I'd get annoyed. Then, in the 8th and 9th grade, I made some friends who gave me the oh-so-clever nickname, "Brooks", which I was known by, until our falling out shortly before 10th grade. "Brooks" was phased out and "Raves" became en vogue. I've always gotten a big kick out of hokey TV/Movie villians (like Murdoc from MacGyver ), who spewed numerous, yet ultimately, hollow threats and had a penchant for calling the hero by their last name -- often in the throws of "death" ('cause they almost always popped up again later). e.g. Villain: "I'll get you [insert last name of hero]! If it's the last thing I d

Street Fighter: The Later Years

Considering how much time Dr. U.G. and I spent playing Street Fighter II on SNES -- and that would be A LOT (back me up here, 'Jita ) -- I found this video to be hilarious. ( Click below for Part 2 ) If you only see black (or a white rectangle) where the video should be, click on that shit, yo!

The Max Power Entry

Your tears...they taste so delicious. Note: This post contains ruminations from the distant past, the semi-recent past, the recent-present, and the future. It's a lot of information to take in at once, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Once upon a time, when I was a wee 16-or-17-year-old-(-ish?) Raven, I went on a date-like thingy with a member of the opposite sex that I found somewhat attractive-ish at the time. Nothing big, your run-of-the-mill dinner and a movie fare. Don't remember the movie, don't remember where we ate. However, I do remember being told at the end of the evening that I wasn't "very ladylike". Not like in an out and out insulting way, more like an "oh, by the way"... I also remember thinking, "What the shit is that supposed to mean?!" Before that time, I was fairly firm in my belief that my parents had raised me with more than adequate social skills. I really couldn't figure out what I had done wrong (if an

Lucky Number Seven

Seven's music video. Tip: she's the black chick. Last Friday, my roommate, Seven , had her first "day off" in months. Notice the strategic placement of the quotation marks, but don't get it twisted. My roommate is a singer/songwriter/producer/performer (and a cook) and as such, she spends an extraordinary amount of time in studios and on stages in clubs (and in a restaurant). However, although it may look like "funtime" it's really "on the clock time". Much different than a regular 9-to-5 gig, but taxing none the less. She's quite possibly the hardest working woman in Hamburg. Believe that. I'll post more later about our excursion last weekend (good times)...for now, just take a look/listen at Seven go -- with her singing/songwriting/producing/performing badass-self.

I've infiltrated ur family and I'm stealin' ur parentz

Happy Birthday, Andre ! Yet another friend of mine has joined the "Late-20s" Club...and not just any friend, but one of my bestest friends...my Non-Sensual Existence Companion...and I said it before and I'll say it again, chil'rens...the Turk to my JD. I wish him the best a man can get*. To celebrate the occasion, Andre's dad ( Papa Schmidt ) came up from Dortmund this weekend. I love this guy. He reminds me of my own pops, minus the heavy artillery . I vote that we invite him to Hamburg for Christmas Taco Time**. Papa Schmidt gave me a bunch of ADAC (German AAA) maps of the United States. Why?! No friggin clue, but it was so cute***. When he spoke to me, he always made sure that enunciated his words ve-ry clear-ly. Last but not least, this evening he provided me with the most hilarious commentary on American child-naming practices that I've ever heard: Papa S : So your name -- Raven -- does it have a particular meaning? Me : Well, in German it's der Ra

Filler Post #35 - So not fair

In 8th Grade, I took Algebra 1 (and then later a buncha other classes throughout high-school) with this guy who is planning an excursion to the abandoned North Brother Island in NYC. I wish I had something as interesting to report. Alas, I do not. Actually it depends on your point of view, I guess. Needless to say, I find some of the recent developments in my life to be less "interesting" more "GAHHHH! BRAIN ANEURYSM!" Thanks for the emails/text messages of concern. Will return with jolly good updates this week...promise. Kinda.