(Non)-Guilty Pleasures

A list! Stolen from Madtown Mama, stolen from Jenn-Jenn, and so forth…

Five little addictions: not like chemical dependencies, but more like guilty pleasures. Problem is, there's very little about my addictions that I'm guilty about, so I don't know if that makes me clueless or geeky…or, clueless about the LEVEL of my geekiness. Whichever…here ya go.

1) Kiss. If you don't already know that I obsess about Kiss, you're either a new reader or you're just…not…paying…attention. I discovered Kiss in 1976 with the help of my 5-years-older aunt, and I never looked back. For me it really is mostly about the music (and you can keep your snarky comments about their level of musicianship to yourselves, thank you!), but I certainly have WAY too many boxes of Kiss-themed junk. Also a pinball machine. *sigh* For now, I'm content with the newish album Sonic Boom, which so totally ROCKS, dude! And, my 12th-row tix to see them on 9/11. With my best friend. What could be sweeter??

2) Vinyl. Don't get all kinky with that one, eh? I mean LPs, you dorks! Sure, I grew up in the '70s, the heyday of vinyl, but I adopted cassettes ("You want me to get new tapes, Tony? I'll get new tapes!") and CDs and mp3s and…well, pretty much everything but 8-track and reel-to-reel. I'd lost a connection to my vinyl collection until bro-in-law Joel came on the scene, and he completely reignited my passion for what is, pardon me, really the best listening format around. I now buy all my new music on vinyl, if I can, and that includes releases in the past 2 years from Kiss, Springsteen, the 52s, the Donnas, Chickenfoot, Metallica, AC/DC, Ace Frehley, and a 25th anniversary pink vinyl edition of Twisted Sister's monster Stay Hungry. I actually want a portable turntable, and have made my birthday wishes known in this regard. Seriously. Go get a turntable and some fuckin' records, man. You'll thank me in the morning.

3) Sex and the City. Y'know why? 'Cause it's a show for MEN, you asshats! Look…4 hot chicks who prance around naked, fucking everything in sight. *Ptooo!* Show for men and lesbians, end of fuckin' story.

4) Stephen King. He's been around what seems like for-fuckin'-ever, and he's consistently over-productive. I just eat his books up, from The Stand to Shawshank Redemption to current 10-lb. dictionary The Dome. Seven volumes of Gunslinger? Fuhgeddaboutit! I never want him to die, and when he does, I want him to have followed Prince's footsteps, with like a gajillion unpublished works that'll last until 2068. I'll read the last one on my 100th birthday, a-thank yew verrah much.

5) Magic: The Gathering. In the world of gamer dorks, you're usually divided into one of two camps: dicechuckers and cardfloppers. Dicechuckers play D&D, cardfloppers play M:TG or some godforsaken spinoff that I don't even want to consider. Magic is great, 'cause it has everything: it's collectable, which feeds THAT beast in me, it's creative, it's fun, it's a good excuse to get together with friends, it's playable for untold hours in a row, and even with thousands upon thousands of cards, it really doesn't take up that much room. Go buy an introductory set and see what I mean…plus, you'll make my cards worth more!