Breaking News

The Nets play the Wizards in D.C. tonight.

Malik Allen has guaranteed a victory for the Jersey Boys.

You heard it here first, kids.

YO!

Anyone still check this blog?
No?
Bummer.
Any stragglers...might I suggest going ici:
GIGGIN' BACK TO THE COMMUNITY

El Update

El Girlfriend du Nenad...

And El Gunz du Nenad.

From a Serbian interview, lovingly translated at the Nets Daily.
Not exactly groundbreaking stuff.
Oh, you like playing with Jason Kidd?
Oh, you started playing basketball because you were tall?
::low whistle::

How time can move both fast and slow...amazes me....

Dear readers, it has just occurred to your heroine that she is absolutely, completely, utterly, 100% Grade A fucked.

That's right, after the debacle that was PMBR, she very well might be on the fast track to failing this thing.

So I am sure I can count on y'all to be understanding if El Friends goes dark for a bit. I'm afraid it would be sorely lacking in NBA analogies and BDSM jokes, and be exclusively limited to me bitching about needing to get drunk, get laid, and stop crying. Let's be honest, no one wants that.

You know the drill for Nets news by now. Quickly, I'm optimistic about Magloire, wish Mikki well in his new Reggie Theus-led endeavors, like what I'm hearing about Nenad's new 10 lbs. of pure muscle, and goofed along with everyone else on the RJ engagement story, as you will see if you go to the last entry in the June 19 entry of the Sez since, yes, Sussman, RJ, AND Derrick Coleman share the same birthday. Happy belated to them all, and apologies for spreading false rumors of pending nuptials.

Alright, now if you'll excuse me, I have to enter full-on panic/suicide-watch mode.

Please do enjoy this complimentary AWESOME video on the way out.
(Many thanks to ultra-fashionable Sean for the vid, who may or may not have also been responsible for unleashing Planet Unicorn on us unsuspecting earthlings.)

Hurts so good?

OK, I throw jokes about this stuff around carelessly, and occasionally I reach for an innuendo...but now they are just fucking with me:

Beginning tomorrow, the Nets hope to start seeing the type of pain their new S&M connection can inflict on future opponents.

Is my team about to become the BDSM spokesteam?
I sure hope so.

SUPER SEXY UPDATE:
Grimey's Photoshop skillz are far superior to mine, and his illustration is replacing my sad and pathetic attempt with Microsoft Paint.
This is completely awesome and I damn near spit Red Bull all over my laptop when I saw it:

Let's all thank Grimey.

Four more years

So I reacted to this new VC deal thing in the most white girl way possible...seriously, I totally outnerded myself on this one.
If you want to mock me endlessly, you may do so.

Really though, melancholy and complaint rock are probably uncalled for.
If I could muster the optimism last season, I'm sure I can do so for 4 more seasons (yes, 5 if the team exercises the option). And I understand from a business perspective, you want to at least make the playoffs between now and the move to Brooklyn.
I just find it would be a shame if they overpaid Vince by a few million dollars, and those same few million dollars would have been the difference maker in keeping Mikki.

But please please, let's use this chance, to turn things around....

Today, I am refocused and rededicated. Also, feeling a lot more sane, thanks for asking.

I may attribute it to my muse:

Yes, that IS an autographed photo of Boki Nachbar hung up right over my bed, how did you know??

If he doesn't inspire me, I don't know who will.

And since studying is the only thing happening on my bed these days, I feel it bodes well.

If anyone wants to be real proud, I think I am about to finish 1 complete day without bursting into tears. Hooray!

(And yes, I purposely used lyrics from a Muse song for the title, since I called Boki my muse...I'm a dork. You knew this.)

Submitted for your approval, and apropos of absolutely fucking nothing at all, are chipmunks shoving peanuts down their throats, set to a ska version of the James Bond theme song. Because why the fuck not?

Dur dur d'etre Vin Baker

Of course, when I saw this news item, I thought this:



That's the normal reaction.

But, um...well, when I saw this news item, for some reason, I thought this:



Because, um...dur dur d'etre Vin Baker.

No, it makes NO sense. I have issues.

Yippee-ki-yay

Hello?

Hi, hello?

This thing on?

Apparently this whole "studying for the bar" thing takes up a lot of your time. Who knew? It has severely cut into my blogging and drinking. Not necessarily in that order.

Seriously, I think John Pieper is going to start showing up in my dreams soon. *Those* kinds of dreams too, if I don't get any bootay sometime in the near future.
Sad state of affairs my life is in right now.

Just wanted to drop in and say "heyyyyy". I'm still alive. The Nets didn't kill me, although given a few more games, they very well could have.

So I'm giving y'all a couple videos to have some fun with.

First off, I was at the gym the other day and the Gold's Gym Music Channel or whatever the fuck was on the tv in front of me. Oddly enough, they played a Muse video, which was kind of weird. But that's neither here nor there. Anyway, this is more GGMC fodder:

Did you catch what I caught?
No, not the kid from "The Wire."
That's right, that sweet sweet replica Kenny Anderson jersey. I HAVE ONE OF THOSE! I think that means I have street cred. Who knew?
(Note: I did. I've maintained for years that I'm ghetto fab.)
Also, I'm not entirely certain, but I think that's Stephen Jackson chillin out behind Busta. I could just be hoping though.

Second video speaks for itself.


So. Fucking. Awesome.

And ahhhh...
I've expressed my love for TBJ before. Well today's podcast is a 30 minute doozy. Yes, I said "doozy." And, they even let my silly and insignificant (but FINE) ass have a say. So...NBA Finals predictions there. And much thanks and love to Skeets for giving me the opportunity to participate.

*sigh*

Back to shareholder derivative actions for this girl.

Yuck.

Get your envelopes, time to address the haters.

After posting this picture over on the incoherent ramblings over at the other site, it dawned on me that there are very important questions that need to be asked.

Is this TJ Speer an arena employee?
Why do most of his photos look like the basketball equivalent of the guy bursting into the bathroom and taking a picture of a surprised girl while she pees?
What is RJ doing with his right hand?
Is The Toine holding funny costume glasses?
Why is The Toine all wet?
Why is The Toine wearing a sparkly wig?
Why didn't TJ Speer explain any of this in the caption? Did he miss it all? Does he have no sense of humor?

Earth shattering mysteries, all of them.

And the Nets say,
I guess I'll die, another day...

I got the brass for your ass, homeboy, thought you KNEW that.

It has been decidedly very Nets-centric around here as of late.

Does this mean I have become more tolerant of people?
Does this mean people have stopped being stupid and therefore piss me off less?
Does this mean I was studying ever so diligently?
Does this mean I have been shacking up with Boki (thus tiring him out and causing the recent decline in the quality of his play)?

The answers are: No; Hell no; Ha!; and I wish.

I really have no excuse for you. Hopefully you continue to adore me, because I'm like...adorable.

Anyway, here is the latest from the AWESOME NEW SITE!!!!1!!11!!!!!!1@

I really hate the software over there, so it's lacking in pretty pictures and sexy YouTube videos, but it's got lots of hot steamy Becky's poorly constructed prose action for ya. Which is what I know you were after to begin with.

This was my sexy Saturday:


Oh, and there's this:

If anyone wants to TAKE me to Game 4, I promise you will get laid. (Disclaimer: I have slutty friends, you're not guaranteed a Becky.)

Just...ya know...for the record.

Because I come stronger than the IRS whenever you done got delinquent on your taxes

Holy crap, I am DONE WITH LAW SCHOOL.

Unbelievable.

Now, if only I didn't have to spend the next 2.5 months studying for the bar. Oh, and if only I had a job. Not that moving back home with mom and dad and waiting tables won't be fun, but...it's not really what I had in mind when I started law school. Ah well. Hopefully the "something will fall into my lap" plan will work out the way it always has in the past.

Anyway. Some ramblings on the Nets/Cavs series and where it could head....

Ahem.

Go check out the NEW post on the NEW site.
I even left you boys a pretty picture to look at.
Baby, c'mon, I KNOW you want to....

As I move into the library for the next couple weeks though, I'll be hanging around here venting my little Becky heart out. Promise, promise. :)

Ladies and gentlemen, we have just lost cabin pressure.

Fuck fuckity fuck fuck fuck.

Or, just breathe.

In my last law school class, EVER. Right now. 1 hour until this nightmare comes to an end.
Um...except for those 4 finals over the next 2 weeks. I guess I have to make it through those as well.
Oh, and the 10 weeks of Bar Review. And the actual Bar Exam. I guess I have to do that too.
But...last class ever! Yeah!

Do you like to hurt? I do! I do! Then hurt me....

Aw yeah.

Here. We. Fucking. GO.


I drank too much on an empty stomach to get more involved than that right now. Let's just say the Nets' propensity to blow big leads added to the Kei Igawa experience with some extra innings Philadelphia-style baseball thrown in for good measure equals big headache for Becky.

Suffice to say I'm pumped.

Despite the fact I'm an a-hole and planned a trip out of town this weekend w/out realizing I'd be potentially putting myself in a position to miss the beginnings of what will likely be another epic set of series. High hopes I'll still see what I need to see though.

A heads-up:
Any sports-related jazz that goes up around here will additionally go up on a new site that I'm fucking around with.
A collaboration between my long time partner in crime and myself (aptly titled "Giggin' On Ya") will hopefully be added to the Blogs By Fans network shortly, as soon as we get shit figured out. We're testing things out and I threw a couple Nets related posts up. Ben gave the blogging thing a first crack by posting about his affection for the PLAYOFF-BOUND Golden State Warriors.
So if that's your thang, check us out...mmmmm right here.

El Friends shall continue, since I need somewhere to vent about all the awfulness I encounter in people every day (see: trashy strumpets that want to fight me in bars; law school bitches who have yet to learn that snitches get stitches). So no worries. You've earned my love. I'm here to stay. Until you piss me off. Then I'm so gone.

So as we gear up for the playoffs, here is the song/video that still gets me all fucking fired up, yes, even a year later.
(Seriously, is it weird that I occasionally listen to the song on repeat? Yes? Shoot. I was totally kidding anyway.)


By the way...
Learned tonight:
Ryan Madson = still hot.
(What??? He um...pitched good. Yeah.)

But this convenience ain't convenient anymore.

And thus begins the gradual process of slowly but surely losing my mind.

Anyone around reading this nonsense during last semester's round of miserable finals will recall I don't handle academic pressure particularly well, and yet am completely uncapable of doing things before the last minute in order to prevent said pressure.

HENCETOFORTH. I have a paper due tomorrow that I have yet to begin.

I intended to start it Friday night. You know, right after Nets/Bulls. That game went really well by the way. Actually, I was extremely tired (and perhaps a bit hungover?) and dozed off right as the game started. I drifted awake somewhere in the middle of the first quarter and was about to sit up and keep myself awake. Then I heard "Nets have started off 0 for 9..." and settled in for a spectacular first half nap.

I woke up at halftime just in time to catch the bizarre exclusive interview with Mikki and all his reptiles. It was a surreal thing to watch coming out of disjointed sleep. Searches for the segment on YouTube and the YES Network site have proved futile. I'll keep an eye out though because I'm pretty sure it was hysterical. From what I can recall, Mikki doesn't mess with poisonous snakes, his little alligator almost bit him, and he doesn't talk to any of his pets because they're "not friends...just entertainment." He said he was a Christian and not some crazy "voodoo snake guy" or something along those lines. Um...good to know.

Undeniably awesome:


So...I was supposed to go to the historic game last night. But...well, I'm an asshole. That's the only explanation I have for it. I mean, I have not had a problem going to games and buying tickets right beforehand thus far. I surely did not think a Gil-less Wiz team was about to sell out the arena. But oh boy, I sure was wrong. Which would not be a problem. Because the shuttle back and forth from Port Authority to the Meadowlands is quick and painless. Except, that is only in theory. Because in reality, if you go and are ass-out-of-luck with tickets, it is impossible for you to get back to the city until after the game. The incredibly nice and understanding (read: complete fucktard) bus driver who dropped off a bus load of people at the arena explained that he had to go back to Port Authority with an empty bus. And that no amount of money I had would get him to let us on his bus. I tried to negotiate with him and he just told me he would get in trouble if there was anyone on the bus when he returned to the city. By the end of it, I didn't even care if he wouldn't let me on the bus, I just wanted an explanation of what the fuck such a stupid policy was based upon. Predictably, he could not give me one. Whatever though, my friend pointed out he was just following orders and doing his job. You know, I know of another group of people who were just following orders- THE NAZIS. Just kidding, but seriously. What a stupid policy. I'm sure the stupid bus overlords didn't have the idea of stranding a cute girl like me at the freaking Meadowlands in mind when they dictated their stupid bus policy. Anyway, my friend lucked out w/ a ride for us, so they both win the "Knight in Shining Armour" award for the weekend.

Whatever though. I had a mostly fun 15-hour adventure that happened to start off with the Mr. April show in the Bronx. All credit given to my friend who shared in it with me. Even though he hated the adventure. And hates blogs. And most likely hates me now too.

Moving on.

Where are my goddamn Oreo O's when I need them?

A very big thanks to MCBias (is that how you like to be credited? I don't even know, I feel you have too many handles for me to keep track of, although that is most likely unreasonable on my part?) for pointing me to this post over at the FanHouse. I have found less time at a computer makes it much harder to keep up with the FanHouse posts because there are just so freaking many. Also it has made me a horrible pen pal, but that's neither here nor there. Anyway, my adoration for Alex has just jumped 1,000x due to his successful rockage of a cheesy moustache. At a theme party no less. I've never been to a theme party, but I hear they're a rocking good time. If his looks alone didn't get him there, I think this just easily rocketed him into "favorite NFL QB" territory right there. And yes, that is partially due to the fact that my favorite team is helmed by the youngest Manning brother. Trust me, Eli. I WANT to love you. But here is a helpful hint on Becky: my love must be earned. EARNED, I say. Anyway, everyone knows of my affinity for a fine 'stache (see: 1 Adam Morrison t-shirt, rocked), so well done, Mr. Smith.
The Hulkster approves.

When all is well and well is all for all...

Some Nenadrific news, as we are, after all, El Friends Du Nenad.
(Never forget your roots, kids. Never.)

Nenad Krstic has graduated from the bike, which he has been doing for nearly a month, to more strenuous activity. "I started on the treadmill today," said the center, who is recovering from a torn ACL in his left knee. "It's a little sore today because it was set uphill -- not much, just seven (degrees). But things are good." Krstic added that he will begin light running "in a few weeks."

Ohhhhhh yeah, the treadmill. I've been meaning to get back on one of those myself.

Also a bunch of stuff about RJ being slow and rusty and mediocre and yada yada...but I informed you guys of that like 2 weeks ago.

On a Becky note...it's already turned into one of those days. And it's not even noon!
Ugh.




p.s.
I meant to mention this on Monday.
You know it's baseball season when Metallica gets you all fired up like it's 1995 all over again.
(Yes, I know when the Black Album came out...I just did not own it until 1995. Deal with it.)

Scene from a Seder

As the family discusses the tragic persecution of the Jews in the land of Egypt...

Becky: Psst, Steph...

Steph: What?

Becky: Do you know D?

Steph: D?

Becky: DEEEEEEEEZ SOUP NUTZ.

Man that look my dad gave me was menacing.

I fucking hate Passover.

On the bright side, my uncle started blaming my 4-year-old cousin for his increasingly disruptive flatulence. She's gonna wish we had a dog REAL soon.

In honor of the Yanks beating the "hapless" Devil Rays, via Deadspin is a Rays blog, offering up reasons to root for the Rays. I ran into Doc Wilson in the supermarché the other day, and sure enough, he was decked out in his finest Tampa Bay Devil Rays merch.
Maybe he and Jenn Sterger can get a little somethin somethin going on....
Seriously, the way the YES team did the game today, I almost expected to hear someone say "Awwww, Tampa Bay is trying SO HARD! It's so CUTE."
Anyone else really really miss Michael Kay? Oh that's right, the answer to that is invariably "Fuck" and "No."

I've made a lot of mistakes...

When I used to watch a lot of VH1 Classic for fun (don't ask), occasionally this live performance of "Rock On" would play in leiu of a traditional "music video," namely because most songs before the 80s didn't HAVE videos. I think pieces of said live performance are in the following video, and I always got a kick out of how much the mentally handicapable dude in the front seems to enjoy the show. You don't get the full effect here becuase it's just pieces, and because the quality of the vid is crap. But enjoy the smooth bass and sexy moves.



I didn't write anything the last 2 games, even though I half-heartedly sort of almost promised. But it would appear no one has noticed and no one has cared, so I got that going for me...which is nice.

Yada yada blow out the Pacers, yada yada watch the WINCE Show and blow a lead at the end. Everyone knows my boys are clinging tenuously to the 8th playoff spot. I almost liveblogged last night, but I was afraid of having to title a post "Tom Washington Hates My Mom, Redux." Oh yes, he was there. And I'm in the house of the olds. As it turns out, it didn't matter anyway because of ridiculous coaching decisions (or is that Vince saying "Fuck the coaching decisions"?) and another sad ending for the Jersey Heroes. The beginning of the game was ridiculous, with Mikki running around sans shoe for a full sequence and then Vince seemingly losing a kneecap (only to OBVIOUSLY return looking juuuust fine) and other various forms of mild ridiculousness. Before Vince bruised his fragile little knee, the announcing team was vehemently defending him taking bad shots, like "That wasn't a BAD shot, before you fans jump all over him...." Such is the state. So for those of you scoring at home that goes: Ridiculousness --> Winceage --> Sadnosity

Soooo...what are we in store for tonight? Well, the Sixers. Who have been playing well. It's a crapshoot. With playoff implications. Fantastic combinations.

Anyway. Don't call it a liveblog. (I've been here for years? No? That doesn't work? Ah well.) No, seriously, don't call it a liveblog, it's not gonna be one. I'm going back and forth w/ the Final Four and probably eating and talking about trannies w/ the rest of the fam at various points throughout, but I'm locked into sharing my very important observations with the beautiful people that frequent El Friends. You're all pieces of ass, right? I told the bouncer not to let in any fugs.

So speaking of pieces of ass...guess what I found? Oh yes, this is a photo gallery from the aforementioned baller fashion show. I shall spare you from RuPaul today though. I'm in a fantastic mood, so no need to bestow misery on anyone else.

Before the Nets get started...Roy Hibbert is a beast. That is all.

By the way, I am completely devestated that E. House is out for the rest of the season. See, they have to make the playoffs to let Casa play some more!

After just the first 2 minutes of play, I can see it's going to be "Ill Advised Jumpshot Night." ...Again.

Sweet bald spot on Andre Miller. Were his cornrows just falling right the fuck out? Is that why he went w/ the close cut? Yeesh.

Is it just me, or does "knee-to-knee" sound dirty?

Jason Collins: still useless.
I feel that update could be the sports equivalent of this.

So we have all abandoned the awful "Iggy Hop" nickname for Iguodala, right? It's not just good announcing by the Nets crew?

Here's another one...
Josh Boone: still ugly.

Boone had a sick game vs. Indy the other night. Of course his nice line (plus Boki's good game) overshadowed the shit game Vince put up. Don't think I didn't notice, Vince. I'm watching you. Well not right this second, because you're already sitting, in foul trouble. BUT I AM AWARE OF YOUR ACTIONS.

When Kyle freaking Korver is grabbing rebounds over both Boone and Moore, you know you are in for a fun basketball viewing experience.

Well last night's game was easily more interesting. I'm starting to think I should just give up again and check out the box score in a couple hours. Why is it so important to be a "real" fan anyway?

If I die tomorrow, at least I can say I saw Samuel Dalembert pick his nose before I went. Thanks for that, YES camera crew.

Chuck Norris Mountain Dew commercial- Fuck and yeah.
Although conspicuously absent from YouTube. Thanks for nothing, random internet uploaders.

I have never liked RJ taking long range J's. He continues to take many of them. Is he purposely trying to anger me? Likely not. But I have my suspicions.

By the way, I do love that Kevin Willis is back. He's like 50! My dad's like 50! I'm pretty sure Kevin Willis could beat up my dad though.

Antoine Wright: up and comer!
(Um...what?)

I like that Cliffy is like, "Well if Kevin Willis and his old ass is gonna keep playing, MY old ass is gonna keep playing." (Link via NetsDaily, as always. What would I do w/out them?)

Ah, fuck it. I'm going to Chili's.

*
*
*

Apparently Chili's is incapable of playing different things on different television sets. 4 TVs in the bar area...all on Joakim Noah's heinous face.

So I missed most of the rest of the game. But it's being described as "ugly," and Uncle Cliffy and Antoine Wright were the big time ballers. OK, I'm a terrible fan. It's a gradual process getting back on track.

And by "gradual," I mean the Nets don't play until Wednesday? And then it's versus the Hawks of Atlanta? Can life get better? I submit that it cannot.
(With all respect and credit to this guy.)




OK, on the post-game show, RJ's chillin in the locker room getting interviewed and wearing this like...plush robe? Maybe it's just a towel, I don't know. But I easily picture him wearing things like velvet robes around in his leisure activities. I bet he would drape himself in velvet if it were socially acceptable.

I kinda came home to the Rock on a whim straight from work yesterday, without having packed anything for the weekend...literally no clothes other than the (super cute!) ones I was wearing. So I had to go buy a couple items of clothing for the next few days. Which was nice, because as I have mentioned before, I buy (super cute!) underwear compulsively. Having an excuse this time was a pleasant change of pace. I suppose six pairs of undies for 4 days could be considered excessive. But like what if I need to chill an extra day or 2?

Apparently I'm starting to freak out about not having a job lined up for post-graduation, since I have randomly burst into tears somewhat due to the situation twice in the past week. Rationality tells me it's not a big deal and I have plenty of time. But it upsets me that something has not fallen into my lap thus far. Somebody has to want to pay me to do something, right? Ummm...wait, don't answer that.

You know what UCLA in the Final Four means? Ed O'Bannon stories! I guess if I go to another Nets game before the season ends, I should rock the old school replica Eddie O jersey, huh? Done and done.
Last we heard, Eddie was a car salesman. It sure does seem like an awfully long time ago that he was supposed to save the Nets. What's that? That was over a decade ago? Fuck, I'm old.

No, the "curse less and sound more ladylike because Dad says boys don't like girls who swear like sailors" project has not been going well. Why do you ask?

Oh, and congrats to Larry Frank for becoming the winningest coach in NJ Nets history.
Let's go win some playoff games, eh?

And nothing is up my sleeve....

I acknowledge the fact that I have been MIA lately. I'm certain no one has missed me terribly, but feel the need to explain myself anyway. My life is full of justifications and excuses, and it's not anything I can help really. Anyway, the Nets have been blessed (or cursed, depending who it is you're asking) with a bunch of consecutive days off. And I didn't watch the last 2 games against the Magic and Bobcats, due to various family and birthday obligations. In fact I have been spending a fair amount of time away from the computer in general over the last week or so and am way behind in all things sports, blogs and otherwise. On one hand I feel really out of it. On the other hand, I feel pretty good actually getting out and doing stuff with real humans. If there were a 3rd hand, I would lament that finals are coming up REALLY soon and I REALLY need to finally crack a book, but there are no mutants at El Friends.

Anyway, Wednesday night's game vs. Indiana is kind of important in terms of "playoff implications" and all that wonderful stuff (if you sense a bit of sarcasm, you are perceptive indeed) so I might try and bring the rock back for that. Maybe not though.

If anyone REALLY needs a Becky fix, you can check out my general musings on the Nets move to Brooklyn over at my new link love, Stop Mike Lupica, over yonder. And yeah...it's really happening. For realz.

Random note: went to my first Knicks game last week...and I have to say, you don't realize how ridiculously inconvenient the NBA fan experience at Continental is until you go try it somewhere else. Yeesh.

As a quick aside, some people I know have been finding this blog lately...it's resulted in some ridicule, some burned bridges, and some props (no, really!). Anyway, I just want to rerun a paragraph from a post back in January:

Man, if my mom ever actually read these things that I write...I shudder to think. I actually sent the url to someone I know for the first time this week because I had mentioned to my best friend in some context that I was blabbing to complete strangers on this thing (all 3 of y'all). I had started writing this thing in the interest of remaining completely anonymous and no one reading it...but if random people happened across it, at the very least no one I actually KNOW. I've put up a fair amount of embarrassing factoids, not to mention some pretty bitchy diatribes directed at other humans. And now that I think about it? How anonymous have I really been? You've got my name, my location, plenty of info re: my family and friends and schools and what not...I guess my point here is just "whoops." Because if anyone I knew were to find and read this, it would take them probably about 2 minutes to figure out it was me. I hope and pray this does not happen, but I realized it is possible. So if it does...well I've got no shame, give a holler and I'll make sure not to talk any shit about you. And Nesticle? If you made it past all the "sports stuff" and are actually reading? Hi, and love ya :)

Uncut and unedited in the interest of full disclosure. No real point though...just wanted to throw that (back) out there.

On a completely unrelated note, I had the pleasure this past weekend of discovering an incredibly talented band, entirely by accident. I went to see my sister play a set and as a result got to see a very rocking good time of a band afterward. I know alternative rock music is not for everyone, but if it is your thing, I have to imagine you will enjoy these guys. I very much did, and they were extremely cool and funny guys too. You can check them out here, or here. Music is a thing that I try not to get snotty about or act knowledgeable about, because I certainly am not an expert, and tastes are entirely subjective and personal. But I'm just gonna come out and say that I, Becky, personally thought that GreyMarket rocked pretty F'ing hard. I'd also like to reaffirm my fondness for this guy again too, since I'm even hearing one of his songs on the radio these days, and I did not think that would happen when I linked to his site way back in November.