Yes: this is the Peabody Little Rock. Kind of insane with the ducks, but all in all a nice place.

This is the 29th Annual Convention of the Association of Alternative Newsweeklies - the place is swarming with marxist hippie rags [that is to say: good people.] Keynote speakers this year are Gen Wesley K Clark (Ret) and Pres William J Clinton. There is going to be an enormous reception at his place tonight [that is to say: the Clinton Library] followed by all-you-can-drink booze at the office of the Arkansas Times [windows say: 'AAN UNITE TO IMPEACH'].

If you were wondering what marxist hippie rags have to talk about, here's a sampling of the classes I'm attending: 'Where Journalism Meets the Cell Phone: An Introduction to Mobile Content,' 'How Blogs Changed My Paper,' and 'Free Online Classifieds: Do They Work?'

Just listened to some embarassing stories about Old Times from the classified director, chowed down an enormous muffuletta and a couple homebrews at some joint down the street, and passed out for an hour. I feel refreshed.

- Z

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• New journal music is Tony Joe White: 'They Caught the Devil and Put Him in Jail in Eudora, Arkansas' gather:0393049001150405167

So they sent me to Little Rock for a conference. Sitting in the room, biting off a little something something from the hotel's wifi network.

My itinerary said our flight was supposed to leave at 6:30am - v. early. Set the alarm for 4:30am, got to bed early. A panicked phone call arrived at 1am from the publisher's assistant: the flight is supposed to leave at 6am, not 6:30am. After we'd all assembled at the airport we just kind of looked around and said: it's going to be a long day.

When we arrived at the hotel, they were just starting the Procession of the Ducks. Let me say this slowly: the hotel has ducks who live in a $90000 penthouse suite. Every day at 11am, the ducks wake up from their little nappy, take a ride down the elevator, and walk down a red carpet to the hotel's fountain. There is also an announcer and JP Sousa is also involved. Running through my head: 'How much less would my room have cost if I didn't have to foot the bill for these ducks?'

They were fat and fast, too - tasty, I bet.

Checked in and got my goody bag. It contained [among other things] a local brew which I am eager to try. However: no fridge. Dddaaammmnnn iiittt!!!

- Z

So the Park Lane is slated for closure and likely demolition next year. There is understandably some hubbub regarding the new development, and the latest person to register his displeasure at the closing is Peter Gust, former head chef of the Park Lane.

In an effort to keep the restaurant open, Mr. Gust has taken to unlocking the front door after everyone else has left and often remains in the dining room after hours. Mr. Gust, who died about fifteen years ago, has earned the nickname 'Peter Ghost,' and his presence has been independently corroborated by several employees.

- Z

So (e:dragonlady7) took a mental health day today and we popped down to Allentown with the goal of visiting all four festivals. Considering that my office is in Allentown, I figured I could drive in and park in our lot. [There are few perks in working for my company; this is my weekend to take advantage of all of them.] So I came in and, where someone had previously pulled a couple garbage totes across our driveway so that unknown parties would not park there, some bitch had hung up a superghetto cardboard sign that says 'Park $5.' Whatever. I breeze by her and park in my usual spot, and when I get out of the car she says 'It's five bucks to park here.'

I say, no it isn't, I'm going in to work for a minute.

She says, it's still five bucks.

I say, trust me it's free, this is my parking lot - and walk into the building. What is wrong with some people?

Saw (e:mrmike) at Music is Art.

Then we headed over to Nietzsche's. Mr. Nietzsche is an extremely good person and a friend of the company, and we have a running tab there. So we stopped in and he bought us not one but two beers and a shot of vodka & lime, and we chilled out and listened to Michael Meldrum and also the Little Mountain Band. Good stuff.

Then my boss wandered in, and I passed a note about the bitch at our parking lot. He said, you didn't pay her, right? I kind of gave him a look that said 'of course not' and punctuated it with the double-deuce . He seemed satisfied; I was pleased to have flipped off my boss. When we came back the signs were still up but she was gone, which was just as well. Once again: what the fuck?!

- Z

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ps. Also I think we saw (e:jenks) in passing.

After being told that one of my pairs of jeans had an enormous hole in the ass, I bought a new pair that just came in the mail today. They are supposedly unique in that they are more durable than most jeans, but more unusual, these are manufactured in a medium-security state prison in Pendleton, OR.

I have been thinking about jail lately since I read some disturbing statistics regarding our prison system . The United States has more prisoners per capita than any other country in the world; we lead Russia [#2] by almost 50%. Furthermore, our prison population growth outstrips overall population growth by 200%.

Either Americans are the most poorly-behaved people in the world, and are only getting worse - or something is seriously fucked up. Reading this week's News of the Weird [items #1 and #6, in particular] it seems that the latter is more likely than the former.

At any rate, these jeans are made in America, by Americans, who make $8/hour - with 80% being withheld for restitution, room & board, &c., and the rest being either sent home to the inmate's family or kept in a savings account until they're released. They are competitively priced at $30/pair and come in my preferred size of 29x34. I feel pretty special with my jail jeans.

Also: good news today about al-Zarqawi; there is an interesting, though somewhat dated, article about him here: . Now, if the war had been 1500 miles east of where it is, it would have been his boss, and that would have been much better news. But, we take what we can get. Good job, guys- let's get this shit done so you can come home.

- Z

I will refrain from engaging in the tradition of posting porn on my 69th post, but I will send you to this that is SFW but probably shouldn't be.

Last night we moved Marjory to her new home in front of the garage rather than behind. I really don't know whether the inspector will go for it, but he did say his only concern was whether it met code - and that is one thing that it does.

Anyway, about the front yard- we have added a cute little brick pathway, expanded one garden, and created a raised bed, and filled them all with flowers. (e:dragonlady7) spent all yesterday finishing it up, and it looks fabulous. But I was very amused today when I came home from work to find-- well, it looks like the psycho cuntbag next door is trying to keep up with the Joneses. And the Joneses are, of all people - me and (e:dragonlady7) ! She had flats and flats of new flowers that she was planting in her front yard, and it is just driving her crazy that our front yard looks nicer than hers.

- Z. Jones

An actual email exchange that occurred between myself and our accountant-ish person. [Back story: the air conditioner in the back office barely works, and it vents into a closet rather than to the outside world. The closet has an external door, but it's deadbolted and very few people have a key.]

Hello all.

Now that the warm weather is here, please remember to close all the windows when you leave at night. Safety, security.

and... if you choose to turn on the A/C, please close all the windows, we don't need to cool the alley.

and lastly, please remember to turn OFF the A/C when you leave, we don't need to cool the back office from 6pm-9am either.

Thank you for being energy conscious.

And yet, if we only turn it on in the morning, the office does not cool off before 5pm.

Yes, but today... it's not even 70 degree's out... and your office is a refrigerator... people are wearing Wool Sweaters, and it's early June, what shall we do in the heat of July and August?

[Someone] suggested that venting the air conditioner back into the office is a less-than-efficient use of energy; if you or whoever has a key to the back door could remember to open it in the morning and close it at night, it would vent to the outside and that may be enough to boost its efficiency enough that it actually works. If it doesn't, I would hope that we can get the air conditioner serviced or replaced before the heat of July and August hits.

Hello All...

the A/C has been installed in back for about two weeks.

The Electric Bill for the Front office is $320 - about average... we only turned on our A/C last week.
the Electric bill for the back office is $787... over three times the average amount for that space. Generally it's about $230

Please turn the A/C off when you leave at night. The room should cool off in about an hour after you turn it on the morning As for the video office, I think you have a whole other A/C system rigged up.

In my office and [the publisher]'s office there is no A/C at all.

Thank you for your cooperation.

The air conditioner has been running on high for the last 28 hours straight; our office is now the same temperature as the unconditioned warehouse, making me wonder where our $800 is going. We can continue cc'ing the whole office on snarky emails and go nowhere, or we could be productive and get the air conditioner serviced or replaced before the weather starts getting really hot. It would lower both the temperature and the electric bill, and make everyone involved happy. With the numbers you quoted, the service would pay for itself in under two weeks. Or we could throw away $800 every month and sweat our collective balls off.

The publisher just called me and said we can get a key to open the back door.

- Z

(e:dragonlady7) ,

If you and (e:zobar) want to really get at the old bitch next door, I can bring over about 1500 pounds of grass clippings to add to your compost pile. Not sure if you remember the muppets other show, fraggle rock, and the all knowing trash heap, we could build one in your back yard. I can also get as much dirt as you may need to mix with the compost. All of this is free, of course. Also, if the town forces you to get rid of the compist pile, we could probably take care of that, too. [My other cousin] has a 1 acre swamp that we are in the process of filling in, and we could move the compost to the swamp, if it becomes necessary. I would love to see the look on the bitches face when I show up with a truck loaded with grass clippings!! By the way, I apologize if I butchered the spelling of your name.



- [My cousin]

and that's all there is to it. I just got off the phone with the building inspector re: the Compost Heap of the Apocalypse with what I felt was a reasonable compromise that would address his fire hazard concerns. [I offered to build a firewall out of hollow concrete blocks between the compost heap and the garage, which we agreed in principle adequately addressed the fire hazard.] He said nope, 3' from the garage and 3' from the property line, regardless of actual danger of fire.

I then went on to explain what she did with the last inspector who came by, calling his office every day for a week after he signed off on it, and eventually filing his inbox with false statements. He asked if I would want a compost heap next to my property. I said if she didn't like it where it is, she was far less likely to like it where it will be. I asked if he had any better suggestions for where to put it. He came up empty. I asked if moving it was the only solution. He said code is code, and moving it is the only solution. I sighed and said would you mind at least coming by next Monday or Tuesday when somebody will be around? He said no problem.

So it looks like it's going 3' from the front of the garage and 3' from the fence. Code is code, and if she's still angry, at least she's got someone to call every day for a week.

- Z

Yesterday was a busy day for me. I went with my very talkative aunt to collect a couch from my cousin in Rochester. While we were chatting, she told me a funny story about how very small Buffalo is. We live next door to two people who are completely unrelated to us. And yet, it turns out that my cousin dated the guy once, a long time ago, and furthermore, my grandmother dated his grandfather. Weird.

Then I was the designated driver for my buddy Tom's stag party. The party proper was pretty good- a large group of old Italian men drank beer and raised several hundred dollars to send Tom off. We went out afterwards and I had a pretty good time, though I think Tom's fiancee put him in a somewhat difficult position by forbidding him outright from visiting the Canadian ballet [I was not too broken up about it, but predictably it caused some friction] and also calling his cell about half a dozen times throughout the evening. Early on, Chris declared that we were out to get as close to arrested as possible without actually getting arrested [which would understandably be detrimental to his career as a lawyer] but I nevertheless sensed a not-insignificant amount of bad vibes coming from his direction when I lit up a doobie on the very crowded and isolated patio of 67 West. [It was worth it, though, just for Gwyll's triple-take when he eventually realized the cork-tipped 100mm filtered cigarette was not exactly kosher.] After a quick stop at Louies, I still got home before 4am, though not by much. I feel bad for Tom, who drank an enormous amount of alcohol, and Chris, who matched him and has to write a 15-page legal brief today.

When I came home from the stag, I found a citation for my compost pile (e:zobar,44) (e:zobar,45) - this time from the Town of Tonawanda, because the heap, which is approximately as dry as a wrung-out sponge, is an apparent fire hazard. I am quite annoyed as the letter, dated 1 July, only arrived yesterday and it seems to suggest that the inspector will return tomorrow. Furthermore, I can't even tell whether an inspection was made in the first place. This is seriously cramping my chill.

- Z