Los Festingos

Los Festingos
A band of epic proportions

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Grabbin grape



Hi c, as every imaginary reader ought to know, is just another fruit juice in the super saturated grocery store shelf that is modern life. To us, it is no different from Hawaiian punch or Capri sun, really. Just another package to throw in the kids' lunchbox. Hooray! The only thing we consumers care less about than the brand is the flavor, because they all taste pretty much the same. Theyre all the same. And the producers of the drinks all know this. In truth, it is evident that they have given up on the facade of flavor altogether. In this cold, unloving world of juice boxes, no energy can be afforded to fanning the fires of deception, and so juice box marketing has quietly faded away. Like the old slide in a dilapidated urban playground, the juice box longingly watches the world age, and the smiling faces of yesteryear shine on as ghosts in the nonexistent minds of the monolithic remnants of childhood. What once was the product of a man's dream, the symbol of his life's work to create a treat both hydrating and delicious, has washed up on the shores of apathy as a fractured shade of it's former self. And its name is Grabbin Grape.
Nobody cares that it doesn't make sense. Nobody cares that it doesn't describe the taste or the overall experience. Nobody is proud to have Grabbin Grape in their lunch box, nobody exalts it as their favorite beverage. The only reason anybody even buys it is because either it is on sale, or it is the most easily accessible pack in the juice box aisle. Nobody would cry if the product was discontinued. In fact, nobody would even notice...
That is perhaps the saddest thing I've ever written... Maybe it has to do with the fact that I just finished watching WALLE. That very might have something to do with this melancholy. That movie's very powerful....very powerful. Or maybe it's because Easter is now over, and so is the weekend. And there's nothing but exams and projects looming ever nearer on my radar.
Actually, it's probably the fact that I'm sending these words, so laboriously selected, so painstakingly crafted, out into the world. A world where anybody could read them, but nobody does. Nobody. Nobody is a very powerful person. So powerful in fact, that Nobody even knows I exist. Nobody cares about this blog, or these words. But in the end, Nobody could write them better.
I apologize for the existentialism, my dear imaginary readers. I suppose it is a little cliche in this post-post-modern world. But there is nothing quite like blasting the contents of your weary mind into the universe where they will remain forever. I recommend trying it sometime.

Friday, April 22, 2011

Midnight meat madness!


Today, as anyone ought to know, is the last Friday before Easter, aka, the last meatless day of 2011 (for Christian omnivores at least). I don't know about you, imaginary readers, but I'm getting pretty prettay sick of pizza. Don't get me wrong, pizza's freaking awesome. But generally the awesome level is entirely dependent on the amount and variety of meaty toppings. Your average plain cheese, not New York pizza weighs in at about a 2.36 on the awesome scale, just about on par with a photograph of Disney World. You know, not an actual experience, but containing the seeds of some radical memories. On a side note, New York pizza ranks in at 3.4, the same level as a meaningless conversation with a beautiful stranger. Memorable, delightful, but painfully short-lived and in the long run, absolutely unnecessary.
Well sick and tired of this dreadfully monochrome Friday diet I'm taking advantage of a little lent time loophole. This is God's game after all, we've gotta play by his rules. But that doesn't mean we can't bend them. I mean pilots do it all the time! Flying around the earth and whatnot. Pffft.

I'm staying up till midnight, when it is no longer Friday, to cook a steak and maybe go get some baconators for the hell of it. You know, obey the Wendy's drive thru slogan and "eat great even late!" because I'm dying for some freaking meat! You imaginary readers of the vegetarian persuasion are just mad as a bunch of march hares. Literally! You know, cuz hares eat nothing but grass! Get it? Haha ha! Seriously though, My hat comes off to you. Not only do you somehow magically spit in the face of carnivorous temptation in defiance of an evil system, but you are also reading this and also imaginary! You should be the president for jiminy's sake!

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Anec-don't!

Okay, so I'm walking down the street with Bucky and I happen to think up something that made me laugh.
"what's so funny Sam?" he said.
To that I replied, "I was just thinking about if there was a guy named Usley, and he got knighted. That would make him Sir Usley! Like, sirusly. You know, like a short version of seriously! Sirusley, Sir Usley!" And I continued to laugh.
Bucky shook his head. And out of the corner of my eye, I swear I saw a tear run down the side of his face.

On a different note, I don't really know why I titled this anec-don't. Maybe because I don't know. Anec-don't know what to name this. Let's go with that.

Furthermore, enjoy the thrusts of Spring!

Monday, April 18, 2011

Why haven't I written?

The short answer is pokemon. Yep, I've been playing pokemon for all this while... But good news is I've beaten it now, and am excited to continue my job as the band's most famous Internet chronologicaler. Yes, it is not a word. And yes, feel free to use it. That's what were all about here...word fenangling...
Anyway. To all of you in Internet land, keep an eye on the sky....or the Internet, rather, for updates about upcoming Festingo related nonsense and the loooooong overdue release of the much anticipated cedar street EP. I promise you, it exists. Believe in it, like you believe in us. But above all, believe in yourself.
Much love,
Sam Phoenix