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In a departure from the regular formula of picking a topic and bitching about it, I’m going to brag about how kickass my jobs are. I have three (or two – one’s an unpaid internship, but what-the-fuck ever).

Paying job 1 is doing promotions for a couple radio stations. My title is Product Promotions Coordinator, which is really a fancy phrase for “pimp.” Seriously – you ever go to the bar and see beer babes? The (sometimes) hot chicks wearing tight t-shirts with Bud Light or Coors or some shit like that on them? Yeah, I’m in charge of them. On a side note, two of them happen to be my sisters, which may or may not be weird.

Paying job 2 is a kick ass lifeguarding gig. Now, lifeguarding has for a long time been the glamour job of summer, but nothing – not even a beach gig – can top the awesomeness that is hotel lifeguarding. Sure, beach gigs get a good number of hot chicks walking around, and when the weather’s crap you still get paid – and paid pretty well – but they really have to be on the top of their game almost all the time. Most people don’t know how to handle the waves and currents of open water, and beach guards are way more active. No, hotel pool lifeguaring is the way to go – laid back, still, clear water, and as for hot chicks? Last weekend we had a modeling convention at the hotel.

Let me say that again: a modeling convention.
True, a good portion of the girls were 14-16, but I’m a creep, so whatever dude. True, in the next few weeks we have a Jehovah’s Witnesses convention, but last weekend gave me enough ammo for like 4 years of self-love (or when those underagers will be fair game…[Editor's note: This dude is seriously gross]). As for scenery, most hotel pools are lacking, but I have lucked into what may be the most beautiful spot in Rochester. This is my cubicle:

My Cubicle has unending sunsets and crystal clear water, plus a great view of the river.

My other job is this sweet internship at a free alt-weekly here – City Newspaper. It pretty much rules.

Anyway, I was going to use this post to rail against jerks who abandon their roots here in WNY like it has nothing to offer, but because I am lazy, I figure I could let the bragging do the, uh, talking.

How Steven Baldwin helped me find God

It’s a good thing Tom Cruise isn’t a born-again Christian. Can you imagine the damage he would do that religion if he were a glassy eyed follower spewing false information? Thank Hubbard for Scientology. Unfortunately, born-again Christians have only low-wattage stars like Tammy Faye Baker and Stephen Baldwin as their famous faces.
Yes, that Stephen Baldwin.
I was sitting at home after a long day of work/pimping/lifesaving at about 2 a.m. I turned on the tv for some channel surfing when I happened upon a famous face on Fox Family. Why, it was Stevie B, the lone saving grace of Bio-Dome (and a really lucky turn in The Usual Suspects). Steve was talking to a tall dark man with dread-locks (I think he may have been *black*). Steve said he took pride in being a born-again Christian and when his Hollywood friends would ask him how he felt being born again. Steve said he would respond, “‘Oh, about the same, but now I’m more at peace. How about you?’ and then they would squirm or get a tick.” Steve was very smug about them, appearing to take pleasure in other people’s discomfort (although I’m sure he gloated with great Christian humility).
I flipped the channel. About 20 channels up, I found Steve again. This time he was speaking on one of those televised evangelical church services. Being that I can’t stand those shows for more than two painful seconds anyway, I immediately flipped to my safe haven of E! Entertainment Television in time to catch Wild On West Whatever (it didn’t matter where it was – vice always puts me at ease.)
Still, Steve got to my head. Stephen Baldwin hasn’t appeared on two channels of cable – simualtaneously no less – since… well, never, actually.
It seems Steve has finally found the leading role that’s always eluded him. He’s found a group where he is touted as a great representative for the movemen.

The Born-agains also gained, but maybe not as much as they’d hoped. They got a “Hollywood Star” who has “repented,” a famous face they can trumpet through their extensive media network as reclaimed from the dark hell of Hollywood.
Unfortunately, as is the case with many high-profile born-agains, Stephen Baldwin hasn’t really changed. Look at his arrogant interview where he looks down on non-born-agains, he’s the same weak-willed asshole that has finally found a moral high ground he can always cling to. It’s a shame he’s never exactly been respected – or famous – enough that his craziness weirds out the public enough to expose Born-again TV Evangelicals as the farce they really are

I’m just waiting for that tabloid headline of him blowing lines off the toilet in a church – over/under’s set at 6 months.

Whirling Dervish is so cliche

Today, Frank the Rock Star asked me to write a SoundBox on this pretentious “global deep house” band called Oojami. Normally, bands with multiple syllables, unnecessary extra vowels and forced ethnic-sounding names end up soundling like bad Phish or String Cheese Incident knockoffs (read: they suck). Amazingly there isn’t a single white, dirty-ass hippie in the band. And the name isn’t forced. Oojami is a collective lead by Necmi Cavli, a Turk-by-way-of-London’s club scene, where his Hubble Bubble club nights are apparently legendary, but Europeans rollin’ on E flock to loud, fast beats and flashing lights; I mean, that’s the only reason Paul Oakenfold is famous. The music is cool, in that Banana Republic background music sort of way, but we’re excited for what the band is bringing with them: Sufi Dancer, what is better known as a whirling dervish. That cliche so many hack writers have used to describe endless energy is part of Oojami’s extravagant stage show. I can’t wait for The Insider’s stupid pun.
Oojami is playing Water Street Music Hall on Wednesday, June 15, if you want to go. Tickets are, like, a million dollars (0k, only $15 adv/$18 door)