Cooter Suiter: One-Liner Thoughts

Ooo. Something new. I've been busy with "work" and watching Chuck on Hulu. Life's not a total waste.

When he's not kicking Mecha-Streisand down with Leonard Maltin and Sidney Poitier, Robert Smith rocks the F' out.

I missed another opportunity at attending Coachella (fourth straight festival in a row while living just mere miles away from the Polo Grounds), thus making my perpetual slingshot into downward oblivion much more realer.

Here's how Coachella went from the people I heard from:

Morrissey is one crazy Nazi vegetarian.

Airborne Toxic Event is nothing to sneeze at.

Despite what you think of him, Paul McCartney is still a Beatle, a legend, and can still rock the F' out.

$10 for a water bottle. WTF?

$7 for a Heineken. WTFFFFF?

Another $10 for a hamburger. That's enough to turn yourself Morrissey, Nazi vegan.

Despite the buildup, the clamor for Saturday's headliners, The Killers, was awfully quiet.

Yes to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs.

Robert Smith and The Cure can still mystify a crowd of thousands even in the Desert night sky. *pffft* Sorry. I farted.

Other thoughts:

I am growing deeper into the emo look more than anytime in my life. That's what happens when you grow straight hair like mine and have the urge to start an Indie band in the vein of Interpol or My Chemical Romance. Now I want to go into a corner and cut myself.

NBA Playoffs started this weekend. Rockets kicked ass. Celtics, Spurs got their asses kicked. Sweet.

Chuck on NBC looks like it will get canceled...but not if we do something about. Sign the petition, bitch!

I am so over the Twitter craze. This leads me to add Twitter to a list of things that I have been dissuaded from because of Ashton Kutcher. Prick.

Finally got to see Slumdog Millionaire. For some reason, I too have jumped into a vat of shit in order to get somebody's autograph. Whose autograph, you ask? You guessed it. Frank Stallone.

I've never thrown up so much in one weekend than I have this past weekend. On a related note, I expect Gregory Peck to assist in my exorcism this weekend.

In that's all I have. Whatchu got, mang?