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Happy 41st birthday (yesterday) to my friend and bespectacled Wonder Twin Matt Sharp, frontman of the most spectacular band ever to rock a Moog. Many folks don’t know that the Virginian Rentals founder and former Weezer bassist was actually born in Thailand, which is perhaps where he picked up his jungle Asian ‘tude and Hardass Asian anal retentiveness.
After many years of hibernasian, Sharp and Co. recently released Songs About Time!!, an epic audio/visual compendium that includes 42 fresh tracks and 52 black-and-white short films (directed by the brilliant David Leamy) that were documented and released weekly in real-time over the course of one recording year. Well, it’s about time.
Wishing Johnny Damon a happy birthday is total fucking overkill. We refuse to do it. Here’s why:
Johnny Damon and Joba the Hutt Chamberlain celebrate the New York Yankees’ 27th World Series title
Imagine you’re Johnny Damon. You wake up today, and it’s your 36th birthday. You’re hungover, no, scratch that, you’re still drunk from the night before, because you raged into the wee hours after winning the World Series. Not your first World Series, mind you, but your second…in five years. Would it be gauche to wear both rings at once, you wonder, sleepily, drunkenly, grinning at the irony of your World Series ring won with the Red Sox and your World Series ring won with the Yankees glinting side by side on your knuckles. (You’re pretty stoked that you know what “irony” is, too. Well, sorta, but you wouldn’t want to have to put it in, like, actual words.)