OH YM GOD *Updated with vid*

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH YM GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

OH MY GOD

http://www.ratatatmusic.com/

OH MY GOD

*****

And the new vid from the band entitled “Mirando”.  That opening frame look familiar at all?

As if any further proof of how amazing Ratatat is, they’ve created a video with nothing but Predator clips.

 

Ba Da Da Dum Bup, My Dear Dear Friend

My mother has offered, more than once, a Five Point Plan for my future that will ensure that I do not tumble into the merciless black hole of debt and despair, but rather walk a golden, albeit straight and narrow, path towards comfortable adulthood.  For it to work, I need to start now.

I hate it when that happens.

1. Graduate from Kings with my degree, and some internship experience, in tact
2. Live at home for a year, or, if I can manage, maybe even two.  This will assure rent-free living.
3. During this time, work and save at least $20,000.  This seemed a much easier plan before I found how much next year was going to cost, but onward, onward!
4. At that time, following two years at home, I take my savings and buy a small semi-detached with a trusted friend.
5. We rent out the basement as an apartment to pay the mortgage, and begin the saving cycle over.  Exeunt some years later, selling the house for hopefully more than we started with.  My father has been in real estate about as long as I’ve been alive, and for all that I still know precious little about the subtle ballet that is the Canadian housing economy, so I need this explained to me.  It’s a sad state of affairs.

The trouble is, I’m having difficulty coming up with a list of people I could move into a house with.  There are a few, to be sure, whose names will remain concealed here in the interest of modesty, but it’s a tough decision.  Male or female?  Long-time friend, or do I value trustworthiness with financial matters over all?  How long would I conceivably be living with this person?  And where do I buy?

Growing up is terribly confusing.  In my mind, I picture my starter house with a nice, clean kitchen and a ratty backyard, and most likely somewhere in Ontario (although I wouldn’t mind terribly if it weren’t).  If these visions make me seem unambitious, perish the thought – it’s reality baby.  I’ll own a sprawling country home with a porch and a faithful dog soon enough.

(I had to take a break in the middle of writing to book, once and for all, my flight out east.  I leave August the 13th at 9:00 a.m.)

That dog would be named Homer, I think.  Or maybe Hank.  I used to have a list as long as my arm for dog names, sweet dog names (not my joke-ey ones from a few weeks ago), and for the life of me I cannot remember them now.  Maybe Reagan?  Oh man, that’s moving to the top of the list.