- Bret Holmes Baltimore Md

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I Kan't Spell

Monday, November 28, 2005

Oh yeah...

New Phone - if you know me - call my new phone because I lost the last SIM in a stupid phone tossing episode. Therefore I have 6 phone numbers right so I can get your numbers back. I may even answer...

Bohemian LIke You

I met our neighbor John this weekend. For those who don't know - he is scary neck tattoo guy that seems real quiet all the time. I had never hung out with him before but he has done laundry at my house and introduced me to this cool girl Julie once - so we walk out of Caralyn's house across the street with this new kid Jeremy - and this other girl said "I'm going to get John" to which my ears perked up because he's not as bullshit frattastic as the rest of my usual cohorts.

We went over to Drifters and I started to talk to him about how much I hate Federal Hill now and all the people that hang out in bars in their black pants and striped shirts. I was asking him why he was down here instead of in Mt. Vernon where he looked like he belonged. He then said "I really like to look at the girls down here." I then noticed his greasy little smile and this smarmy fakeness about him and I just walked away. I then leaned my arms over the railing, shrugged and walked home.

I had my little faux ipod with me and I found it fuckin funny that the song below played. I stereotyped this guy into being someone I might want to hang out with, when in actuality he was just like everyone else only with cooler clothes, a better taste in music, better read, and socially salty.

I really would like to move but I think first I have to find something that I want to be involved with. This song also makes me think of Erin's friend Hans and all the snooty Mt. Vernon kids that aren't really snooty but just more or less looking for something else - - it's just that the something else they are looking for is just as bullshit as the things that all the normal people have already found. They get teh same comfort out of BMW's and Reality TV as snooty kids get out of dingy clubs with rap bands and tofu. Vicious cycle. lol

The Dandy Warhols : Bohemian Like You
You got a great car
Yeah what's wrong with it today
I used to have one too
Maybe I'll come and have a look
I really love your hairdo yeah
I'm glad you like mine too
See where looking pretty cool
Will get ya

So what do you do?
Oh yeah I wait tables too
No I havent heard your band
'Cos you guys are pretty new
But if you dig on vegan food
Well, come over to my work
I'll have 'em cook you something
That you'll really love

'Cos I like you
Yeah I like you
And I'm feeling so bohemian like you
Yeah I like you
Yeah I like you
And I feel

Who's that guy just hangin' at your pad
He's lookin' kinda bummed
You broke up that's too bad
I guess it's fair if he always pays the rent
And he doesn't get bent about
Sleeping on the couch when I'm there

'Cos I like you
Yeah I like you
And I'm feeling so bohemian like you

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Murders, Rapes, and Drugs OH MY!

The City Paper dropped enough names in their article about busting the Owl's Club and Oriole's club - of which - everyone I know that plays or *eh hem* attempts to play professional style poker - belongs to.
    The situation at the Owls Nest revolves first and foremost around the relationship between its principals-Joseph Anthony Cary, 50, and Gerald Curtis Dickens, 65-and Frank Darby Moran Sr., 76, a man dubbed by some as "the king of Arbutus."
Easily the most dubious moniker ever heard

    Right around front, in the same strip of small businesses that houses the Orioles Nest, are the 12th Legislative District office of state Sen. Edward Kasemeyer, Del. Steven Deboy, and Del. James Malone, all Democrats.

What I don't understand is why city officials decided to come down so hard on this little club. Do the poker clubs not grease Maryland politicians enough for them to have a club with 5/10 10/20 tables? Is this really a drain on the local economy and was their "skim" that much that charities got suspicious? Is there really a need for this sort of investigation given its proximity to two police stations a fire station, hospital and several municipal institutions? (I.e. nobody was hiding anything about this place and I know plenty of cops that I have not only played with but have helped to "bounce" for the club.)

The Owl's nest wasn't the classiest poker room on the east coast but it certainly was a straight game. There was no smoking at the table, very little booze and there weren't naked girls hanging from the ceiling or guys blowing lines off the urinal in the back. People were there to play poker. More importantly and quite ironically people came to this club in particular, because people were there to play a straight game of poker. The reason this place was busted was because they apparently did not live up to their charitable reputation. That and they were playing the wrong kind of cards. It's funny how you can play 7 card, 5 card, Hi Low but you can't play Texas Hold 'em.

Baltimore ranks 2nd for crime in cities over a 500K population in crime, and 6th overall. Are there not enough murders, rapes being committed that vice squads need to be assigned to break up a poker room and arrest 95 people (letting all their buddies go I'm sure) although no emergency call or complaint had been filed against an otherwise peacefully run private club? The raid was a little over the top. Why not just come in and serve papers to the proprietors?

I love this part:
    After Cary and Dickens split from Moran's Orioles and started the Owls Nest, "we didn't want our organization to be associated in any way with the Owls," Sachse says, citing Moran's bitterness over Cary's disloyalty and the Owls' indiscretion in holding widely publicized games on a regular basis. "I mean," Sachse adds incredulously, "they were advertising in the Sunpapers!"

What I find funny is that advertising in the Sun Paper for a club offering low stakes poker games behind private doors with private members is considered a vice hit squad type of crime. They couldn't have pulled more than 1000 a night after paying everyone.

I find it all pretty hilarious that in this filth bag shit box of a city they decide to eliminate a place that people went after hours to play cards and see their friends. They won't tear down the housing projects with squatters, and they don't attempt to clean up the open air drug market on the west side, and they'll put up more section 8 housing in the middle of Fells Point and Federal Hill, and we average a murder a day and 1 murder a week of a child - the Owl's Nest Poker Club where I have walked with no more than 300$ to play poker has been shut down because they didn't have a permit to play Texas Hold 'Em poker!
    "The time is ripe to take the lead in regulating it, so it's legal," says Toni Aguilar a 500$ recipient of the Owl's nest charity. "It's so hypocritical. The state has keno, the lottery—all games of chance, not skill like poker-and they take money from people who can least afford it. With poker, I know some very prominent lawyers and people in politics who play the games. Any night of the week, you can find a house game, so why not make it legal?"

A RAID WAS SET UP! Now I know what you are saying and I know what you are visualizing, like it was something out of Harlem Nights or Goodfellas with smoke filled rooms and girls in cocktail waitress outfits and crooked nose gangsters. No. It was myself and Merril Lynch employees and Legg Mason guys, lawyers, doctors and cops and firemen and bar owners and bar tenders and normal everyday people having a good time. Now I didn't patronize the place more than 4 times but I feel a little miffed that this club was shut down while others are allowed to operate under the same circumstances. I know whose jurisdiction this fell under and I know there are more than 6 or 7 other poker clubs operating out in the open in this city. (Korea town, 2 on the west side, 1 in canton under the FRIGGIN SUPERMARKET!...) And it's not like I'm a junior crime mafioso. I'm a guy just like you who likes to play poker. Eventually you'll find a game but these aren't hard to find so why aren't they taken down?

This bust was racially and financially motivated due to the lack of kick backs being accounted for by a new business/club on the West side of Russel Street. This was a county club forced to come to the city due to a break up of partnership and slipping attendance. Once here, they failed to grease the right palms and within 10 months were shut down. The irony comes in that the cops who everyone has seen there were all involved in the bust. Lovely town I love in...

And for those looking for an update on Gino:
    Peter's Pour House on Mercer Street near Camden Yards was raided this past spring. Eugene Lovito of Fund Raisers Unlimited was charged with gambling in the Peter's case, but the charges were shelved by the prosecutor.

Hopefully we'll see old uncle Gino and Donny V out again this year. And hopefully we all won't be arrested for playing 5 dollar black jack in front of Camden Yards.

Monday, November 21, 2005

Ryan Adams Album Streamed

For those of you who blinked Ryan released yet another album. His 23rd this year. If you have gotten tired of buying all of them - or you want a taste first - Scenestars is streaming it for free. It is def. worth the 47 minutes.


Sunday, November 20, 2005


No West Wing tonight - that is cold blooded. Damnit to all hell!! Poseidan Adventure - who wants to see that? I'm saltastified.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Just Listening

The ghost of Belle Star had her hands down on her findings. She passed them to Jezabelle who sat at the head of the Chamber of Commerce. I haven't been out of the kitchen in weeks and there was a glare coming from the sun as it thumped me on the head with nickel heavy thumbs. A dime flew out of my mouth and the boys came calling. Delilah sits worthlessly alone and cries tears on her cheeks from laughter. Brother Bill set in chains on the hill and was happier than he had ever been. He cried to the chicken sun "Come get me because I can't move." The sun beat on him with copper covered hands of 5 thousand digits.

Escape with me Ms. Quiet and we'll sail around the world. I can be your feather man and you may be my wayward girl. There is always a pagan holiday to challenge our efforts. It's as though we played the game and then realized that no one kept score. Dancing haplessly in a sand storm and our lives written on our clothes in pencil. When the twirling ends there is no more boat and no more writing. There is only you telling me that you know where the Oasis is. Your own way you flee. Your own way you deserve.

Elope with me Ms. Private and we'll taste the coffee houses of the Upper East Side and lay down on the green lawn and laugh with flat stomachs and healthy faces. Our boys will play catch and you'll correct them before I do. I'll lay happy and you'll be on both arms looking up into the sun with a squint.

I really don't mind if I sit this one alone. My words but whisper and cause deafness with a shout. I can make you feel but I can't make you think. We ride all over the fields and skip to the lord as we hold hands in some sort of grasping evidence to our love. But the faces never connect and the sun pierces more than tans. It all seems to end in the first cough or in the first let go and measure of unequal footing. You had no idea there was a hole there and I had no idea you would let go when you fell into it.

Later at lunch we set ourselves apart and there was a scream from across the cafe. There was a rest home reaction as people came running. It makes me want to scream. It makes me want to steal and you just sit there head tilted wondering and learning at nothing. She creepily turned and walked away. She makes me want to scream.

If you would be on my side I would be on your side. You wouldn't ever have to worry about finding a place to belong. It's hard to be on your own when you should be being dragged over the rainbow and sent away. There was a river flowing heavily like in the late fall after all the rain. It flowed with the same sturdy chug of a locomotive. There was nothing to stop it and it shot me dead. I took a knee and looked for her. She was holding my hand while still standing and all that went through my mind were the same sounds of churning water. She looked out at it as if she knew why I fell. She put her hand down on my head and I leaned into the part of her thigh just above her knee. She let her palm come down and caress the side of my head above the ear. Then she said "That's enough. You've grieved enough. It doesn't want you here anymore."

You enter the room and all it just comes to a halt. Like a slow motion movie shot we all turn to see this thing. A scarf is flung and a finger is lifted. Every step has a piece of a part in a movie attached to it. Left foot Marilyn Monroe, right foot - Bette Davis, left foot - God. And it all unravels to just me. In slow motion all their faces peel back to their sunken reflection but mine is on this vivid reel of ecstasy walking at me. Mine is emblazoned into her sweater and black pants. I can smell her from where I sit and it doesn't speed up for me in anyway. Every blink of an eye is a 15-minute intermission and every heeltap is as if the person next to me won't shut up or I have to sip my soda. You should see the stoppage of time in a woman the same way you see your life in the art that you love.

Mouse and the Mask

If you haven't already entrenched this into your mind. You should start now. Dangerdoom is good for the body whether you like country or hip hop or punk or ska or you are black or white asian or an alien. You will love this album.

Monday, November 14, 2005

New Strokes Video

You'll have to wait 30 seconds before downloading it. Look in the top right corner and don't be distracted by all the porn (jokes). Click here to start download journey.

Oh and BTW - if you don't read or at least check out Brooklyn Vegan - you fucking should.

Saturday, November 12, 2005


I threw my phone a long way. Needless to say I don't have it. Just a heads up for anyone calling me.

See you when I see you.

Friday, November 11, 2005

Random Comment People

Random comment people freak me the fuck out. My friends and I have personal blogs that were honestly written for each other so that we can keep up to date on each other's lives. From that came our other friends who don't write. They would come ina nd drop a line saying something was funny or they would in town. Then there is the rare friend of a friend reader. But, what freaks me out is when someone that I don't know, comes on to give me some sort of fucked personal advice based on his or her own crazy life.

I can see someone coming to a site once via a link or google search and reading about what they find. I can almost see someone leaving a relevant comment if you run an information blog that supplies perspective on a certain topic. But, this site is just my own loud breathing and I don't need your advice on my Mom's visit to town.

Their comments are always along the lines of:
    I went through the same thing 7 years ago when my second wife left me and gave me genital warts. She took my life but I came out stronger and knew that there were Angels around me watching over me. I feel your pain and can only say that it will pass when you find that perfect light. Stay strong.


Then there is the quirky local town girl that definitely speaks with a twang and writes the same way she speaks:
    OMG girl you have no idea. I was with a man once that was so damn bad for me. I left his ass and now I'm so much happier with my life and my 3 illegitimate children.

This is who I want advice from. I'm so glad you found my blog and decided to butt in on my life. Your advice is going to be heeded with the utmost reverence and I can't wait to maybe one day even meet you.

There is also this guy who is so fucking alone that he begs people he doesn't know to keep writing about personal drivel:
    Hey Buddy you haven't written in a while. We are all concerned out here in the blogosphere. COME BACK TO US!!!! ECHO ECHO ECHO
These are the same lowlifes in the bar that ask
you "Where have you been?" When in actuality they are just saying "I'm so goddamn lonely...please kill me."

Now I know that by putting out personal stories about myself on the Internet I will attract some random people and by printing what you print you have no more right to attack their comments than an Author of a book has to attack how a reader relates to his work. I guess the difference is that well - I find it fucking creepy when someone decided to give me personal advice that teeters on them having a nervous break down. I would never write Stephen King and tell him he needs to see a psychiatrist. As a matter of fact I would never write him to give him adivce or share an equally bizarre personal story because that's fucking creepy.

Do I really want involvement from people on the Internet that I don't know? I guess I would have to say "no". I could never really see myself sitting down and thinking "You know TwistedRock71 is really insightful and I think that I will join Oprah's Book of the Month Club for needed support." I'll never take your advice. The best case scenario is that I won't make fun of you.

The worst part of the relationship is the cycle. You then feel obligated to go to their blog and read about their boring shit life collecting model planes or fighting ADD while fishing for cod in Alaska. You feel like you should go take an interest in their subpar Junior College writing while trying to sound like you care and leaving footprints all over their website assuring them that you visited and will read in the future.

Now there are people out there that seem to think that random blog comment people are awesome. Well good for you. You guys can sit around talking about how to fix your lives and fill your days with empty cliche's revolving around "staying strong", "moving on", and "being a good person". I personally get more depth from Bazooka Joe bubble gum then from some random fucking tool box that I have never met. So just in case you do want to put together your club - I'll let you know who you guys are looking for in your faceless community or Anne Landers crap advice.

The comment people row:

College Girl

College girl listens to all the latest Indie Pop and falls in love with a different guy every week. She'll have two posts in one day. The first will be how much she loves him and the second will be how he broke her heart by not getting her a straw for her milk. She usually say's inane bullshit like "I heart you and feel your pain." accompanied by some youthful exuberance like "Remember you are too young not to have fun. GO CRAZY GRRRRLLL"

Just out of College Girl

Just out of College Girl has put on some lbs. as of late and is really upset that her college boyfriend left her after she couldn't find a job or get on her own two feet after school was over. She's so very bitter about life and feels the need to pass on her vast life knowledge to others in the form of "I just read the new (insert dumb book here) and they said that we should be adjusting to our surroundings with nurturing people. I know you feel down right now but it will pass. Please read my 783 posts about being sad and lonely."

Angry Yet Sensitive Home From the Army Guy

This is the scary guy of the crew. He's so very confused form his lack of higher education and growing up in a rural community. He's been hurt by at least one long lost love because he just wasnt smart enough or successful enough to hold onto her. His advice is usually along the lines of "Oh that sucks. That happened to me with my ex-girl once. She fuckin wouldn't stop being a bitch all the time. I hate that." How enlightening.

30-50 something guy

30-50 something guy is the most dynamic of the crew. 30-50 something guy is more than likely successful but has been recently divorced or left by himself. He's more than likely bald, fat, or has some weird social disease that him and his therapist are working out on a bi-daily basis. He's more than likely looking for some ass or at least some cheesy bra and panty pics of the writer after he gains her "trust". He usually comments with some obscure passage from a book or a self-made poem. "You are so beautiful on both the inside and outside. Your strength and virtue shine so bright that they illuminate my life via your words. I have never read a truer soul and wish you nothing but strength." YOU'VE NEVER MET ME! What the fuck are you talking about? Did my post on being upset over my dog dying really deserve that kind of comment? Get the fuck out of her you phoney SoB.

Divorced early 30's Girl

Divorced early 30's girl has recently had someone tell her that she is a great writer. She feeds off of other people's comments so she goes out of her way to go to their sites 50 times a day while being a receptionist at work and typing inane comments like, "Loved the post today. Keep up the good work." and then like a little tag line that leads you back to her site so you can see how lovely she uses double negatives and monosyllabic phrases centered crappy analogies. "I really hope my little Roger recovers from this flu so I can start writing more about the way we are all getting stronger...". This brings you to their site where you feel obliged to care about Roger or her stupid fetish with m&m's or her new semi-abusive, but at least has a job, boyfriend.

Sad guy

Sad guy needs you to read his writing because sad guy is, well, fuckin sad. He spends all day lamenting over his lost life, girl, money and semi-addictive Nyquil habit. He really cares when you are sick or when you had a bad day. "Feel better. Hopefully i will too..." Oh shut the fuck up!

Anyway - - fuck it - - I'm not apologizing - - that's all true.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

Homestar Halloween Awesomeness!

This way to Homestar awesomeness

And yes that is Ookle the Mook

Favorites List
Pandora Song List
Amazon Wish List
Revolutionary Wealth - Tofflers
Brian Jones

Things Making Me Smile
The City
Listening - [out of 5]
Benjy Ferree - 4.8
The Thermals 3.1
David Gray 3.8

Like the guy with the beard? YES - like the guy with the beers. What? Yep

Bands That I Check Schedules For
Badly Drawn Boy
Belle and Sebastian
Benjy Ferree
The Black Keys
Drive By Truckers
The Eels
Kimya Dawson
Mark Hopkins Band
Iron and Wine
Mates of State
Ted Leo
Two if By Sea

Places I Rock in the Flesh
9:30 Club
Black Cat
Electric Factory
The Knitting Factory
The Otto Bar
Recher Theatre

Places I Eat/Drink in the Flesh
Bishop's Collar
Cross Street Market
Hull Street
Joun Gak
Mick O'Shea's
No Way Jose
The Irish Pub
The Waterfront Hotel

My Greatest Hits (that's so lame)

The time I almost killed a child
July 4th in Korea
Excerpts from Demian
Why I screen phone calls
Bret's Death Metal Report
A conversation at a cocktail party
A conversation at breakfast
So you think you are a Baltimorian
A conversation about a girl singer
Observations from a bar
Observations of strippers
Tech Language
Why I love Oasis
I would go to war
"You Son of a Bitch" An Open Letter to Tom Friend
Dance to Your Ocean
Dream Ranch
When men become pussies
Jason Whitlock is a racist propaganda promoter
Pitchfork takes music snobbery to new level
The Cosmic Clash of the Red Sox and Cubs
The Hatred that is Runts Candy
Starting corporate line-up
Google Bio
Do you know me? List 1 / List 2 / List 3
The Night I Burned Philly Down
So You Want to be a Booze Hound
She Said it was Free
Funniest Corporate Story Ever
Striped Shirts and the Fucks that Wear Them
Death Peddle
Pieces of Morning
Oasis Album Revew
The Art of Tipping
Starting Fires With Grass Stains
Bret's Federal Hill Food Review
Sexcapades and your Picture on the Internet
Stupid Secrets
Stupid Secrets the Return

Contact Me

Stuff I Swing By From Time to Time

Indie Video Archive
Large Hearted Boy
Important Records
Oasis News
Pitch Fork Media
Reptilian Records
Scenestars MP3 Blogs
Sound Garden Baltimore

Shotgun Apparel
Warrior Clothing

Angry Little Girls
Atom Films
Eye Envision
Homestar Runner
Kill Frog
Junior Varsity Meat Market

Baltimore City Paper
The Baltimore Sun
Calvert Hall
Degroen's Brewers
ESL Cafe
Fantasy Sports
Korean Herald
Villa Julie College Baseball
W3 Schools

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