Breakfast Makes...Podcast???

Last night, Jim and I decided to record the first official Breakfast Makes Perfect podcast. The original idea behind Breakfast Makes Perfect was that it was going to be a podcast--with the articles, essays, what-have-you acting as nice, little companion pieces to the podcast. Obviously, writing articles is a lot easier than getting people together and structuring a podcast, pressing record and hoping everyone is funny enough to make the podcast worth listening to. So, we opted for articles instead.

But last night, because we were in the podcast-ing mood, having been pricked by the podcast bug, which then harbored in our asses, spawning an entire colony of podcast drones, transmitting messages to our brains, and deluding us into thinking we're funny and/or interesting enough to say things that people want to hear, we decided to record.

Blogger won't let us upload an MP3, so, instead, you get this...the audio played over a static image that I had saved on my computer. We'll call it a "video" (to make the Blogger Gods happy), but you, the imaginary Breakfast Makes Perfect fanbase, know what it really is: a shitty attempt at a podcast.

Our special guest on the podcast is my downstairs neighbor, Josh the Juggalo, or, as he asked us to refer to him: "Scrubby". I've known Josh for a couple years now and, because Matt (the Breakfast God Himself!), is out of town on big-boy business, we asked Josh to be our guest.

As a disclaimer, I should point out that the views expressed in this podcast do not necessarily reflect my own or Jim's--even if he's the one expressing them. Jim was drunk--and got progressively more so throughout the recording of the podcast--so anything he said doesn't really count because, as everyone knows, what you do whilst under the influence of the hooch-demon doesn't count, which is why drunk-drivers are never prosecuted--because they're all: "But Judge, I was drunk. 'Drunk Me' mowed down that fleet of orphans selling expired coupons on a seedy street corner." And the Judge is like: "Damn it, I guess we have to excuse this case. This guy knows the law." Basically.

Also, depending on what kind of response this gets, we'll try to do this whole podcast thing once a month or so and make it a regular feature.

So...ENJOY!

Mangum Science Theater!

Concerts are loud. One thing I like to do when I go to concerts is pull out my cell-phone and start a blank text message, addressed to no one, and write snarky Mystery Science Theater-esque jabs at the lame opening bands, which I then share with the people I'm with at the concert. This way: I don't have to be rude and shout my snarky comments while everyone else is enjoying the show and I can still satisfy my compulsive urge to say the worst thing I'm thinking. It's passive-aggressive and pathetic, but it's fun as hell.

Last night, me (Breakfast Makes Perfect), Jim (James Yates) and Matt (the Breakfast God, himself!) went to the Jeff Mangum show down in Bloomington. The opening acts were lame. Not bad, just lame (I won't say their name because I don't want to embarrass them on a blog nobody reads). While everyone else stood there, presumably transfixed by the dread-locked, wheatgrass-milkshake-chugging, diet vanilla-lite indie-folk opening acts, Jim, Matt and I (because we're immature and not as eerily polite as the rest of the audience last night), took turns trading jabs on blank text messages on our cell-phones.

This is a list of those jabs:

"I wonder how many contemplative indie boners are being popped in this room right now...." 

"This is the music Terry Gross listens to whilst flicking her bean to HuffPo articles about ObamaCare." 

"Vincent Gallo called and he wants his suck back." 

"When he said 'philistine' I thought it was a reference to Phyllis from the Office and I couldn't take the song seriously anymore." (This one wasn't actually a text but something Matt yelled in my ear, three beers in). 

"The band for people who don't know better...." 

"I kind of feel like listening to public radio now...."

"Ask them to play the one song where they stop and Jeff Mangum plays."

There was also an ill-executed (because neither Matt nor I realized it was in quotes) joke Jim wrote about the band being allowed to play because they saved Jeff Mangum from an assassination attempt, which I thought was a Todd Margaret reference (which I haven't seen, but both Matt and Jim have been watching recently) and Matt didn't understand at all.  I'd include it here, but Jim deleted it.

Anyway:

Yeah. It's self-congratulatory to post funny pop-shots you took at a lame opening band, but we're thinking about making this a regular feature, post-the-night-we-go-to-a-concert. So...DEAL WITH IT!