![Today’s Inappropriate Use of the Word “Jam.” [via Jezebel]](http://30.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lk0s02GxS01qb19h6o1_500.jpg)
Today’s Inappropriate Use of the Word “Jam.” [via Jezebel]
So Eddie Vedder has a solo album coming out around June, and apparently—this is what he’s told audiences at his current Australian solo tour— it features him singing and playing the ukulele and is even titled Uke Songs. Grunge-tastic! It’s not exactly new territory for Vedder—remember he did play the uke on “Soon Forget” on Binaural in 2000—but still a bit of a surprising track to take.
Eddie Vedder. Pearl Jam. JAM HANDS. TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT. Damn you, Vedder. You’re going to win this round, aren’t you?
There’s one night I can recall being up all night in the TL. Believe me, I did not look this good by the time I staggered home. It was more like if Tara Reid and Kristen Schaal had a really drunk baby that they let a blind drag queen dress. GIVE ME YOUR SECRETS.
(“The Morning After” by Travis Jensen via SFist SO MANY CREDITS)
Q: Why don’t I have $1.5 million? Not only would I be able to purchase this lovely looking bar/nightclub and turn it into CLUB JAM HANDS VANITY PROJECT, I’d have an apartment above where I could live in a constant state of hangover and have an entire flat to spare. It’s like my version of a Barbie Dream House. Gimme it.
A: Because when faced with this fantasy prospect, I spent my morning break deciding that Boo would live in the second flat, and I would help him decorate it with adorable doggy furniture such as THIS. Best buddy neighbors! Note to self: Wait to lose your mind after you make millions.
You’d think for an attention-seeking Princess this wouldn’t be such a theme. Common denominator: photography by Liz Miller. BITCH.
“Hey, Soul Sister” is made for those moments when you’re forced to do nothing else but listen to it, and it’s just catchy enough to rattle around in your head during that downtime’s aftermath, disrupting any activities you actually enjoy.
UGH.
I was trying to enjoy my Subway sandwich yesterday at lunch, when this song came on and made me want to choke on a banana pepper so I could black out from lack of oxygen and escape. In case you’re months behind on snarky music commentary, please skim the article and promptly tell your friends not to hate on the ukulele just because of this festering turd of a track.
Thankfully, just as my head was about to explode, a pigeon landed on my table INCHES FROM MY BELOVED SANDWICH and distracted me from the horrific noise. I need to find a new sandwich shop.
Animal, or BOO BEAR, M.D.? Everything makes so much sense now.
Tiny guitar or whatever it is
Liz: Yeah, and you can play your mandolin.
JH: It's a ukulele, not a mandolin, dammit.
Liz: Oh, that makes sense why I haven't tried to sleep with you yet.
