Friday, October 30, 2009
Oh, what's this? Well, it looks like Ohrobot is having an indie pop morning. Today I'd like you to give a listen to Ms. Cristina Rosenvinge and her album "Frozen Pool."
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
When the octopus grabbed hold of Kenny's leg I knew he'd had it. I could see his skin turning blue and I'll never forget the look on his face when we were trying to pull him back in the boat; despair. There's no other way to describe it. His eyes went hollow. It was kind of like looking at one of those photos of a road that seems to go on forever, you know? Maybe he was giving the once in a lifetime chance to die look? He didn't even scream. All of the yelling was coming from Sarah and me. We never even got the chance to see the damn thing either! I thought we'd tear his arm off, the way we yanked him toward us, but it was obvious that he was a goner. When he finally went under his face hit the side of the boat and then he was suddenly not there anymore. Sarah went nuts! I couldn't even do anything about it because I couldn't move. I wasn't catatonic, but I just sat there with my mouth open trying to process what just happened. She collapsed and with a panicked tone she started telling me that we had to get back to land. I followed her instructions and took us back to the dock. We didn't speak the rest of the way. I stared straight ahead and she just kept staring into the black water.
Ludella Black and Mickey Hampshire are two of England's most rockin' inhabitants. The former being an integral part of The Delmonas and Thee Headcoatees alongside Miss Holly Golightly before embarking on a solo career. Not much has changed except maybe that her solo work is a little more "focused."
The latter, Mickey Hampshire, is a founding member of Thee Milkshakes, Thee Headcoats, and The Masonics. He's proven over the years that real Rock N' Roll pumps through his veins in a major way. It's that Medway sound the kids go nutso for!
These two have teamed up on a whole bunch of stuff, but this my friends... this was Ludella's first record without her homegirls... word.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Click here for ladies coupons
For a group of guys without a guitarist, Whirlwind Heat do a fine job at creating a racket. Fronted by bass and an organ, the drums expectedly come crashing down and turn these songs into what could be compared to what punk rock aliens from the future galaxy might tap their zorps to.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
John Dwyer. To most people this is just an ordinary name. A name that could belong to a lawyer... a baseball player... or a school shooter. To them it is just a name, but to folks like me, it means a whole other thing.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
L-R: Ryan, Ben, Alan, Lyla
Oh Robot: What are some of your favorite albums?
Friday, October 16, 2009
I suppose tonight is as good as any night to let everybody know what I've been up to here in the Ohrobot manor. It's been a pretty quiet October. I celebrated my birthday on the seventh. Thirty Three years old... kids call me Sir and I couldn't be happier.
The trappings of childhood are as abundantly horrible as they truly are wonderful. It really evens the playing field when you can say that your first kiss is as oppositely akin to the way it felt the first time you were taking a "standing up" piss and all of a sudden a book bag was thrown over your head and you were beaten mercilessly and left to die on a cold, hard high school bathroom floor.
It's been a wild week. I'll start backwards.
Just yesterday I set my alarm for six a.m. When it went off I knew that if I didn't make an attempt to get off the couch, I'd greatly increase my chances of being late, which in turn, would disappoint my boss. I had already done it once this week. Truth be told, it might be among the worst possible feelings I could experience.
I just completed a three day training course with about twenty five Detectives. The class was being facilitated by a former detective, high ranking Navy official, and all around nice guy.
It was a multi departmental live training exercise where I, along with the twenty five detectives, were ordered to hit the busy Los Angeles streets in search of an opposing group of "bad guys" that were positioned to spot us, the hunters. Ask me what's funny? I'll tell you...
Out of the twenty five detectives, only a handful of them were detected by the enemy and photographed. The photographs were then blown up and shown to the class upon return.
Out of all those guys, yours truly was pegged as an undercover cop the most times. Meanwhile, the seasoned detectives only got "burned" a little when compared to the amount of men they had operating in the field.
Even the cops started telling me that I looked like a cop. The funniest part about that is that when I was about fifteen years younger and living in New York, I went to Harlem in search of a bit of weed and had a similar experience.
Once exiting the train, I found my target rather quickly. He was a young, black kid... probably about seventeen years old. Do you know what this little prick had the nerve to do when I approached him?
As a greeting, I said "Hey man, you got some pot?"
It was as earnest a question as possible and I was dressed in a way that would allow people who aren't straight arrows to hang around me if applicable.
He turned to look at me and said "Nah... I ain't got that for you."
Intrigued by his obvious butchery of the English language, I pressed on.
I then said "C'mon...I just want to get some pot."
His response however, greatly differentiated from the white flag waving tone of my question to him. He looked at me with sizzling eyes and said "You a cop! Leave me alone!"
Being that I'm not a sworn officer of the law, I tried to convince him otherwise, but he wasn't having any of that nonsense. I then did what came naturally... I began to follow him.
As he walked away, I could pick up that he sincerely thought he was going to end up in some bracelets if he had stopped to chat. He was tense, but I pressed on further...
How do you convince a stranger that you aren't going to tie him up and hand him to some guys in a black and white?
My opinion... you can't.
Anyway, My team didn't catch one guy today. I'm a little sad from that, but the most important part here is that we all had fun.
So yeah... there were like, three pictures of me in a row. Ouch. A few guys in the class said I looked exactly like a French criminal. Another guy said the same, only he chose Italy as my criminal birthplace.
I'll post the surveillance pictures as soon as I get then from the instructor.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Today was a weird one. It was sort of like a good day, but it appeared that it was just wearing a "good day" disguise and it was really a terribly bad day. As I'm sitting here with it all behind me, having a cheap rum and Coke, I'm recalling a few of the things that happened to me...but today I'll share only one.
1. The Ham.
At my job it could be said that it's business as usual. I walk around for hours on end without eating or resting and constantly check my email. However, there are some occasions when I feel weak. When this happens I simply find something to eat. This actually sounds better on paper than in reality because the food that is available to me has the potential to be considered by some as unsafe to eat or simply put: Pink in the middle. It's not always bad, but maybe they need to improve their selection of poultry plants. The crap that's being delivered to my job would probably be better off still alive and making some old lady happy to own it as a pet. Yuck. In light of today's offering of bone-in chicken, which I have begun to affectionately refer to as "Chicken Boneyard" I decided that it would be in my best interests to sit down and have a plain ol' ham n' cheese sandwich to prevent an untimely starvation death. I gobbled it up rather quickly and before I was even done swallowing, I received an urgent radio call that instructed me to get somewhere quickly.
Off I went. It was basically a non-event and I wrapped it up swiftly. After that I walked around and spoke to a few guests. Here's where it gets bad...
Of course, people always want to tell you shit that you don't want to hear, like:
1. "You look tired." - Honestly, I hate that. Fuck you, oh rested looking dick. Some of us work hard.
2. "Gaining weight?" - No asshole, I'm a chameleon and this is what I do when danger lurks nearby. Fuck!
3. "Are you drunk?" - Really? Do you think I'd be drunk at noon? You do? Okay...got me there.
You know what they don't tell you though? Most people, as people have proven, will not tell you when YOU HAVE A FUCKING PIECE OF HAM HANGING OFF YOUR MUSTACHE!!!
It was dangling there like a Christmas ornament. Thanks public at large. Here I am... walking around trying to protect you and there you are... snickering about the pig on my flavor saver.
*Ham not included in above pic.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
I'm not sure if this is old news for you guys, but I've been sitting on it for a few months. Ms. Zee Avi is a young Malaysian singer songwriter who through the miraculous power of the internet, was discovered by Whites Stripes manager Ian Montone and Greenhornes/ Raconteurs drum beater Pat Keeler. I guess those might be some pretty good fans to have. I highly recommend buying her album when you're just feeling melancholy or at a specialty grocer purchasing a bag of quinoa and a fancy cheese.