Monday, December 26, 2011

SHAMELESS GOOGLE INFILTRATION (oh, and Merry Christmas!)

Merry Christmas!

Your present? A truck-load of me!

Yeah, that's right. A slew of photos specifically designed to thrill and entertain your innocent and virgin-like eyes! Pictures to hypnotize and mesmerize! Images to instantly click out of and punch the computer because this was a shitty Christmas gift!

I know, it's not the best, but what else can I do with the resources at hand? If it was at all physically possible, I would literally jump through the internet, pop out into your kitchen and make you breakfast. It would have to be instant oatmeal and toast, because that's the extent of my charity. No orange juice or jellied jams allowed, though. Way too sticky.

Now, what you see below is a massive pile of photos featuring me, Davey and Jimmy. I wanted to post these because...well, the reason isn't necessarily a good one. Or a sane one. Let me explain:

Whenever you search "Calabrese" in Google images (I automatically exclude all inferior search engines) you're offered a buffet of Calabrese imagery, art and photos. Where's the problem? This imagery, art and photography isn't controlled. It isn't the best of the best. Where as I want recent promo photos or thrilling artwork from the last album, Google gives random Italian stuff and old images of us as goth cowboys.

For whatever reason, knowing that I can't manipulate what comes up when you type in our name is a harrowing thought. It makes me feel belittled, shamed and slightly confused. Why can't I get the good stuff up there?

I add simple and obvious tags, I name all the photos "calabresebandhorror," I watch old reruns of Golden Girls and cry a good lot in the shower. Isn't that enough?

It must make sense, through whatever system and design they're running with, I can't feel too bad. I have a feeling that Google knows what they're doing, even if it paints me as a broccoli loving fat dude. You play with fire, you get burned. Does that make sense with what I'm talking about? No?

I keep an updated Tumblr on deck, which helps in the process of clogging the Google pipes up with our faces. So far I've seen a few changes (which is actually kind of surprising to know it actually worked, yay!) but nothing too dramatic has happened so far. Rome wasn't built in a day, people.

So here it is, a hot pile of steaming Calabrese! Live stuff, promo stuff, whatever. This is my grand attempt at truly molding my own online destiny. Soon these images shall be burned into the world wide web, stuffed down the internet's throat, dominating the online universe and showcasing our ugly mugs! Yay!

Merry Christmas! And suck it, Google!

CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!
CALABRESE - Believe in Rock and Roll!


Friday, December 23, 2011

Christmas with "Willow."

Christmas is almost here, and I'm starting to feel the heat. I'm getting an overwhelming sense of "blah" and I just don't like it. Don't get me wrong, I've still got holiday spirit coursing through my veins, but when you don a Santa hat and a "somewhere not in the US" accent for twenty-five days of X-mas fun, you start to get a bit burnt. I wonder if the Santas in the mall begin to truly hate their lives after mid-month?

At this point, I need something to grasp on to that'll keep me sane and solid until after New Year's. I'd like to say that I found a great book to read or have started painting desert landscapes, but no. I can't read and paint is so paint-y.

In this dark and trooubled time, there is always "Willow."

I speak of "Willow" a lot. I quote from "Willow" and bring the film up in conversation where a magical land of spritely awe is absolutely unwelcome. It's almost threatening, to be fair. My "Willow" agenda be pushed hard.

What are you, dear Willow? What is it about you that brings me strength through the holiday season? All of the presents have been bought, all of the eggnog has been hoarded and subsequently shunned. Why doesn't anyone like eggnog? Is it the "egg" thing?

You keep me sane, Willow. You have a magical aura about you that keeps me on track. You are my rock. My stick wielding, cloak wearing rock.

Where did you get that cloak, by the way? I may or may not want one. My wardrobe is usually dictated by how much people will laugh at me, but it's below seventy degrees in these blistering, wintery months, and me bones be cold. Cloaks are lame, I know, but capes are worse. I think. Right? Arguing online with myself about cloaks and capes. This is what my life has become.

But it's all good, it's all well, it's all so beautiful and nice and wonderful. Because you're you, Willow. You hold me together with that twig magic and that cloak and that tool belt packed up full of goodies. Which begs the question...what exactly do you keep in there? Besides acorns that turn trolls into stone, of course.

Is that a knife? Do you hold onto a ball of yarn? It seems like you would. What about a pouch of Tropical Starburst? If you had some, I'm sure you'd share. Because that's what you would do -- because you're you.

Whenever I'm in a bar, no one seems to know who you are, Willow. People are confused as to what you do and what you've done. I feel embarrased to mix and mingle with ignorant slobs who don't know what true royalty you really are. Were your adventures too obscure and indistinct to remember? Were you out-shined by bigger and better fantasy films of the 80's?

It's fine, though, because you're a legend and you shall live in my Legend Cave. Which is the back packet of my jeans. Whenever I'm feeling down and out, I'll set you up and stare into your big eyes and at your brown tuft 0f lovably goofy hair. Ahh, ya see? You did it again, Willow!

Stay sane, people. We're almost there. I know I'm the first one to lose their edge, but I'm still stoked and thrilled for Christmas, even if it means being fried on the Big Day.

But once we're through, though, we can then post pretty pictures of all the pretty presents we got and didn't deserve. It's a time of receiving and receiving, right?

Did I get that right?