Formerly known in the office as "the intern who can type really fast," I've since settled into the role of "the metal guy." This makes it all the more enjoyable to gauge people's reactions during "What was your first show?" conversations when I get to say "the Cherry Poppin' Daddies." The blank stares turn to raised eyebrows when I go on to declare that more than 10 years after Zoot Suit Riot, the Cherry Poppin' Daddies are still one of my favorite bands. Tonight, I'll be seeing the Eugene, Oregon-based eight-piece for the first time in four years.

It's always bummed me out that what drove the band to multi-platinum success is also what later knocked them down to "Remember those guys?" status. Zoot Suit Riot, with its ubiquitous title track, was released in 1997, as the swing revival was kicking into gear. The song was inescapable — high school marching bands across the country were playing it at football games, and the band rode the wave. But then it was over.

And the real bitch of it was this – the Cherry Poppin' Daddies weren't even really a swing band.

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I went to a midnight screening of The Dark Knight last night because I am a dork. I arrived at the theater a little before 10 PM, and there was already an intense line outside the theater. Many people were in costume (including several fans in "Elect Harvey Dent" garb), but the dude who took the cake was wearing an exact recreation of the Joker's make-up in the movie. I ended up sitting right next to this guy in the theater, and initially I thought it was charming (I dressed up for a movie once, though it's too embarrassing to reveal here). However, as the movie unfolded, the make-up dude became more and more disturbing. This is a testament to Heath Ledger's performance, as he frightened and disturbed me so much that I completely forgot about the fact that it was Ledger's last role. Something horrible would happen on screen, and I was constantly looking to my left to make sure the guy in the make-up wasn't trying to recreate it.

So, to the dude in the Joker make-up sitting next to me last night: if your goal was to freak out the squares (like me), then mission accomplished.

The Fourth of July is usually associated with fireworks, hot dogs... you know, American-type things. However, this past Friday I received a thorough ass-whooping from punk hero/Sonic Youth guitarist Thurston Moore, in what has to be the most memorable beatdown I have ever received. I headed downtown to New York's Battery Park to photograph the band's free July 4th show and everything was going normally during the band's first song. As the group ramped up the noise, Moore seemed to become more and more enraptured with the fuzzed out sound he was producing with a drum stick and his guitar.

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I had a very nice Fourth of July long weekend, thanks for asking. After a few days of basking in the glory of independence and not having to be at work, I wanted to kick back on Sunday afternoon and enjoy some television. I had no interest in Wimbledon nor the hours of Christmas movies running on the Lifetime Movie Network, so I turned to an old failsafe at MTV with the knowledge they normally reserve their Sunday afternoons for reruns of America's Next Top Model. Imagine my surprise when Hulk Hogan was calling somebody "Brother" on the set of American Gladiators. This caused a short circuit in my brain so profound that I'd like MTV to explain themselves.

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