Backwards K
8.5.2k1
Founding member and Linkey-Loo coordinator Alan J. Chimenti suggested that I call and ask some of the venues that the TNSC descends upon for a little something back, what with the hundreds of drinks we pour down our throats and the generous tips we often throw down onto the bar. I thought about it for a good hour or two. Came up with a few reasons for, a few against. The pros were more compelling than the cons so I had at the phonebook, jotted down some numbers and let ‘er rip. Results:
Li Po: (Last visited 28 June 2001)
Some fella answered didn’t know anything about no TNSC. I told him we had a lame ass turnout when we went there but we might do better we had us some scratch. He said he might budge if he knew I wasn’t jerking his chain … that I was a real customer. I tried to prove we were there by describing in oozing detail the fucking gross whore who ate our pizza and spiked her ginger-ale-no-ice with whatever was in her hip flask. I don’t think that was what he wanted to hear because he screamed something about Buddha Bar and slammed down the phone. Strike one.
Lucky 13: (Last visited 21 June 2001)
I asked the lady who answered the phone if she was covered with tattoos of birds. She said shit yeah and I said I was in a few Thursdays back with the drinkin’ club. I was the one who killed the PBR stash. She said: “Oh yeh,” and I asked her if the truck brought more yet. She said: “Everyday,” then she asked if we were comin’ back in and I said: “Yeh, well, mebbe you ought to do a buy one PBR, get one PBR free thing. That kinda deal would make a visit hard to resist.” She thought about it for a minute then said, “Well I can’t do buy one PBR, get one PBR free but I could do a buy one poppy jaspar get two free; or buy one Boddington’s, get six pints free; or how ‘bout buy one Sierra Nevada, get a case free.” I screamed like a girl and threw the phone out the window. Strike two.
POW! (Last visited 03 May 2001)
After retrieving the phone, I dialed up one of the TNSC’s fave bars. Someone answered, I guess, but I couldn’t hear a goddamn thing, because of the earsplitting volume of the DJ. I couldn’t even tell if anyone said anything like, “hello.” Hung up. Foul tip. Still 0-2.
Sadie’s Flying Elephant: (Last visited 25 January 2001)
Down in the count, I ring up the pachyderm. The lady answers and says yeh she remembers us. This is after I identify myself and claim to be in the group that laughed like hell when Barry Bonds struck out looking to end the playoff game last October (see 10.1.2k). “You damn-near got yer heads taken off by some fellas didn’t like you laughing at Bonds,” she said. I said: “What were they expecting? Bonds to come through in October? Please … the guy’s a cock.” She agreed then asked what the fuck I wanted. I want free beer and not Grolsch or Bitburger or Sierra or any shit like that. She said what the fuck’s the matter with those other beers. I told her that they were really really gross and if you drank fifteen you’d be as big as a house and have a wicked skull ache. She agreed then said no fucking way. “Free popcorn,” she said, “and a bunch of crap to put on it.” Fair enough. I figure that counts for an infield single.
Yer free popcorn venue with drinks:
Sadie’s Flying Elephant
News: You lovely list members have exactly one week from today to come up with TNSC code names. If you don’t submit one, you will be assigned one. The Founding Members have decreed that at meetings and in Official TNSC communications we will refer to each other using official code names. Submit via email here: Code Name
No other news.
Comments: tnsc@therein-lies.com
TONIGHT'S CONTEST: Find the reference!
Last Week’s Contest results: Founding Member and Linkey Loo coordinator Alan J. Chimenti almost disqualified himself from winning the contest because he refused to go through proper channels of submitting his answer. He first tried telling me. No. Then he emailed to an alternate address. No again. Only then did he click on the link to officially submit his answer, which was correct. The VA’s title, “Duke of Chicago” was a film in which DeForest Kelley, mentioned in the VA, starred. That was the reference. Congrats. He enjoyed a lovely prize.
Dramatic reenactment: Filling in for Tonight’s Dramatic reenactment is Tonight’s Satanic Word: Official
TONIGHT'S SINGLED-OUT LIST MEMBER: (nameless) Miller. She used to live next door to Sadie’s. And she’s cute.
PORN TITLE OF THE WEEK: Can't You Just Fuck Me and Go Home? (Porn Title of the Week coordinator Tama’s new fave title. And why not?)
No excuses. You must pop in for a pop at the elephant. We’re going for a new record. Parking abounds, so designate a driver and get over. Bring your friends. I know I will. See you there! See my sister there!
bye-ee!
linkey loo!
Thursday, August 30, 2001
Thursday, August 23, 2001
Duke of Chicago
8.4.2k1
Yeh, well my brother has up and changed careers. Yep. That sucker peeled off his apron, whipped off that crazy hat, chucked his knives, tater mashers and wooden spoons, threw out his cutting boards, jettisoned his mixing bowls, shit-canned his measuring cups and booted his food processor. He tossed his blender, pitched his toaster, junked his pastry fork, burned his cutting boards and sold his fondue set.
He relinquished his mixing bowls, gave up his whisks, surrendered his cookbooks; yielded his salad forks, ceded his soup spoons and let go his butter knives. He let slip the bread pans, dropped the cake pans, abandoned the jellyroll pans and gave away the pizza pans.
He disposed of the juicer, parted with the zester, laid aside the peeler, set aside the corer, cast off the tenderizer and marooned the gravy boat.
He ridded himself of the frypan, disburdened himself of the saucepan, divested himself of au gratin pan, dispossessed himself of the saute pan and washed his hands of the roasting pan.
He discarded the Joy of Cooking.
He pitched the Cheese Bible.
He threw to the winds The Food Lover’s Companion. I’m thinking he’s serious about this change.
I love that guy – of course I do! – so I’m supporting his decision. He’s making this change because he’s found a new passion. He’s really excited about this and he said that I could use this forum to make the official announcement. He’s swapped his old profession for this one: Celebrity Impersonation!
You might say to yourself: Wow! A celebrity impersonator, how exciting. You might think of your favorite celebs and wonder if my brother impersonates them. If you like Daniel Day Lewis -- sorry. He doesn’t impersonate him. Stallone? Nope. Jerry Lewis (lllllaaaaaddyy!!!)? Nuh-uh. However, if your favorite celeb is the late DeForest Kelley – Star Trek’s Dr. McCoy – you’re in luck! Boy my brother throws around some hilarious Dr. McCoy quotes: “Remind me to tell you that I’m sick of your logic,” and “I’m a doctor, not a bricklayer,” and “In plain, non-Vulcan English, we've been lucky.” The gags just keep on comin’. Oh how fun he is to have at partys. See for yourself, tonight, here: Dalva
News: We went to this joint Dalva on this date last year. Remember? The Founding Members have determined that a little walk down memory lane is in order here in the Dog Days. (Gimme a break, dog days. It’s freezin’ out here.) In other news: HBD to Longtime List Member and Miss-Not-Joining-Us-Tonight Sue Erokan. She is 25. Darin is new wo the list. Teensy is coming out tonight, so if you owe her money or prizes, bring ‘em. Robot screwed the Linkey Loo last week. Robot regrets the transgression. Bobo and Freshy’s mail got booted by the Giant Killer Robot Mail Server. Somebody tell them.
Comments: tnsc@therein-lies.com
TONIGHT'S CONTEST: Find the reference!
Last Week’s Contest Results: Founding Member and consistent Find The Reference! contestant John Metsker identified “STS-105” as “Space Shuttle mission to the International Space Station” at 2:33 pm. This is semi-correct: “STS” stands for Space Transportation System and can be unmanned rockets as well as Shuttles. I was about to award Mr. Metsker the prize when Longtime List Member Moss Gross’ message posted. It was held up in his mail server but had been stamped at 2:32pm! If his answer was more accurate than Mr. Metsker’s, Mr. Gross would win! His answer: “The last shuttle mission - the one you skipped town to see” That is more accurate! Mr. Gross wins the golfball and tee set from the titty bar.
TONIGHT'S DRAMATIC REENACTMENT: The firing of the French dude for wearing shorts to work. Now we all like to wear shorts to work but here’s a guy who got booted for it! Sure there was a dress code, but he was a factory worker and it was freakin’ hot! Leave it to the frogs to mete out such harsh justice. His case is in arbitration. Our players: Founding Member and Linkey-Loo Coordinator Alan J. Chimenti plays the bermuda short-wearing French dude; my brother plays the dude who fired him; Kira plays the bermuda shorts; and Kay Rough plays the arbitrator.
TONIGHT'S SINGLED-OUT LIST MEMBER: Ced. He’s on vacation for the next few weeks but will be joining us again in Oct. Thanks for the head’s up!
PORN TITLE OF THE WEEK: The Bare Bitch Project
Ah, Dalva. The memories. Was that really a year ago? What bus route runs down that street? Do yourself a favor and come out tonight. Rub elbows with the Mission’s elite. Make some new memories. Throw someone against a wall. Bring your friends. I know I will. See you there! bye-ee!
8.4.2k1
Yeh, well my brother has up and changed careers. Yep. That sucker peeled off his apron, whipped off that crazy hat, chucked his knives, tater mashers and wooden spoons, threw out his cutting boards, jettisoned his mixing bowls, shit-canned his measuring cups and booted his food processor. He tossed his blender, pitched his toaster, junked his pastry fork, burned his cutting boards and sold his fondue set.
He relinquished his mixing bowls, gave up his whisks, surrendered his cookbooks; yielded his salad forks, ceded his soup spoons and let go his butter knives. He let slip the bread pans, dropped the cake pans, abandoned the jellyroll pans and gave away the pizza pans.
He disposed of the juicer, parted with the zester, laid aside the peeler, set aside the corer, cast off the tenderizer and marooned the gravy boat.
He ridded himself of the frypan, disburdened himself of the saucepan, divested himself of au gratin pan, dispossessed himself of the saute pan and washed his hands of the roasting pan.
He discarded the Joy of Cooking.
He pitched the Cheese Bible.
He threw to the winds The Food Lover’s Companion. I’m thinking he’s serious about this change.
I love that guy – of course I do! – so I’m supporting his decision. He’s making this change because he’s found a new passion. He’s really excited about this and he said that I could use this forum to make the official announcement. He’s swapped his old profession for this one: Celebrity Impersonation!
You might say to yourself: Wow! A celebrity impersonator, how exciting. You might think of your favorite celebs and wonder if my brother impersonates them. If you like Daniel Day Lewis -- sorry. He doesn’t impersonate him. Stallone? Nope. Jerry Lewis (lllllaaaaaddyy!!!)? Nuh-uh. However, if your favorite celeb is the late DeForest Kelley – Star Trek’s Dr. McCoy – you’re in luck! Boy my brother throws around some hilarious Dr. McCoy quotes: “Remind me to tell you that I’m sick of your logic,” and “I’m a doctor, not a bricklayer,” and “In plain, non-Vulcan English, we've been lucky.” The gags just keep on comin’. Oh how fun he is to have at partys. See for yourself, tonight, here: Dalva
News: We went to this joint Dalva on this date last year. Remember? The Founding Members have determined that a little walk down memory lane is in order here in the Dog Days. (Gimme a break, dog days. It’s freezin’ out here.) In other news: HBD to Longtime List Member and Miss-Not-Joining-Us-Tonight Sue Erokan. She is 25. Darin is new wo the list. Teensy is coming out tonight, so if you owe her money or prizes, bring ‘em. Robot screwed the Linkey Loo last week. Robot regrets the transgression. Bobo and Freshy’s mail got booted by the Giant Killer Robot Mail Server. Somebody tell them.
Comments: tnsc@therein-lies.com
TONIGHT'S CONTEST: Find the reference!
Last Week’s Contest Results: Founding Member and consistent Find The Reference! contestant John Metsker identified “STS-105” as “Space Shuttle mission to the International Space Station” at 2:33 pm. This is semi-correct: “STS” stands for Space Transportation System and can be unmanned rockets as well as Shuttles. I was about to award Mr. Metsker the prize when Longtime List Member Moss Gross’ message posted. It was held up in his mail server but had been stamped at 2:32pm! If his answer was more accurate than Mr. Metsker’s, Mr. Gross would win! His answer: “The last shuttle mission - the one you skipped town to see” That is more accurate! Mr. Gross wins the golfball and tee set from the titty bar.
TONIGHT'S DRAMATIC REENACTMENT: The firing of the French dude for wearing shorts to work. Now we all like to wear shorts to work but here’s a guy who got booted for it! Sure there was a dress code, but he was a factory worker and it was freakin’ hot! Leave it to the frogs to mete out such harsh justice. His case is in arbitration. Our players: Founding Member and Linkey-Loo Coordinator Alan J. Chimenti plays the bermuda short-wearing French dude; my brother plays the dude who fired him; Kira plays the bermuda shorts; and Kay Rough plays the arbitrator.
TONIGHT'S SINGLED-OUT LIST MEMBER: Ced. He’s on vacation for the next few weeks but will be joining us again in Oct. Thanks for the head’s up!
PORN TITLE OF THE WEEK: The Bare Bitch Project
Ah, Dalva. The memories. Was that really a year ago? What bus route runs down that street? Do yourself a favor and come out tonight. Rub elbows with the Mission’s elite. Make some new memories. Throw someone against a wall. Bring your friends. I know I will. See you there! bye-ee!
Thursday, August 16, 2001
STS-105
8.3.2k1
When Page and Plant left the restaurant I was sure they would be playing the TNSC secret show the following night in San Francisco. They were the ones doing the convincing; Robert owed me a big favor. A few years back – while I was still living in Chicago – I bumped into him at the Addison L station. He was rummaging through his pockets and looking thoroughly disgusted. It was hard to miss him, what at over six-five … and that hair! Well he was patting down his pockets and spitting out some great English swear words (I’m a sucker for English slang -- ask anyone). As he was standing right next to the turnstile I knew immediately that he couldn’t find his token. “Hey Robert,” I said, “you lose your token?” He looked at me and rolled his eyes. “Oh, hey Josh. Yeh. I can’t find the foking thing anywhere. I had a whole bleeding army of them earlier.” I had just bought a new roll, so I peeled off two and handed him one. “Oh no, mate, I’ll just call me driver,” he said. “Oh jeebus, Robert. It’s the least I can do, what with Custard Pie and Ramble On.” “Thanks, mate. I won’t forget this.” We shook hands. “My pleasure, Robert Plant . This gets you back for When the Levee Breaks.” “Okey, then,” he chuckled.
So when he called me last Wednesday and said he was sending a car over I didn’t think that the car would be taking me to the airport! I had a few pops at the Admiral’s Club then jetted to JFK. He met me at the gate the next morning. “Sorry about the red-eye, old man.” Nothing to it, I told him. “Look, I brought you here to talk about making good on that favour I owe you. A friend of mine has agreed to help.” “You just said ‘favor’ with a ‘U’ in it, didn’t you,” I kidded. “You’re a bloody comedian, you are. Come on.” We drove into Manhattan and wheeled up to a curb in front of a familiar-looking deli. I asked him: “Doesn’t Marty Scorsese get Reubens here?” “In twenty-five seconds you’re going to know why he does,” He said. He was right.
As if cued by me finishing my pickle, Robert says, “Ah. Here’s my friend.” Jimmy Page hisownself walks in. “Hi Jimmy,” I said. “Hello Josh, it’s been a while,” he said, referring to the time I bailed him out of a tragic lost bus pass on Sunset in LA. “God, what was that? ’89?” I said. We laughed.
I said, “So what’s up?” Robert said, “That nice turn you did for me deserves a little payback. I’m chatting with Jimmy last week and your name comes up and he says he owes you a favour – excuse me – a “favor” too. He then cooks up an idea to play a show for you there in San Francisco, as we’re going into studio to record there next week. I thought it was a smashing idea so we brought you here to chat about it. What do you think?” I thought it was swell. “What do you need me to do, fellas? I’m in. I know a mess of lovely people that would get a kick out of you guys playing a show.” “That’s great. Really. That’s wonderful,” Jimmy says. “I’ve been trying to think of something for years. You can help us set it up, though.” “Oh, of course! What do you need?” I said. “Just find a small venue that has a P.A. We’ll do the rest.” “I’m on it,” I said. “Give me a call tomorrow.” “Cheers,” they said, and left.
Only a few calls from the seatback phone on the way back to ‘Frisco locked in the stage at Make Out Room. The bartender there is a doll and she agreed right away. I didn’t say it was going to be two rock Gods playing live, but the promise of a great act was all she needed. “The Mothertruckers stank the place up last night,” she said, “the place needs some good juju.” I then phoned Robert with the good news and hung up and began trying to get a little shut-eye, getting comfy with a half-moon-shaped neck-pillow thing. Just as I was nodding off, a flight attendant touched my shoulder and said there was a call coming in for me and asked me to pick up the seatback phone. It was my best friend Phil! Here’s what he said:
“Yeah, I've got a venue announcement for you: Thursday, 5:38pm Pad 39A Kennedy Space Center. I know it's short notice, but take off Thursday and Friday. We'll watch Discovery launch, throw down a few at the beach, light some fireworks, and watch some baseball with your Dad over the weekend. I’ll plan your itinerary.”
This being a once-in-a-lifetime chance, I said: “I’ll be ready to leave tonight. Let me know the airline and flight number.” He said, “Roger. I’ll call you back.” He talks funny like that.
When I called Robert back to tell him I got a better offer, Jimmy answered his phone. I told him what was up. “Oh wow, mate, that’s fantastic. I don’t blame you. Get down there and see it. I’ll tell Robert. He’ll understand too. We’ll ring you some other time. Cheers!” he said and hung up.
So there you have it. I almost got you lovely list members a secret show last week. I guess we’ll have to wail till next time.
For now: The El Bobo
News: Thanks to Moss for his Pinch Hit Venue announcement. Or announcements. I had about five in my InBox. Lessee … Gary is new to the list. I’m probably forgetting someone … Oh yeh! Freshy and Bobo provide new addresses. Great!
The venues for the next two Thursdays (8.4 and 8.5) will be the same venues that were featured 8.4 and 8.5 Y2K. See the archive for specifics. Reason being: Excellent things happened at those places.
Comments: tnsc@therein-lies.com
TONIGHT'S CONTEST: Find the reference!
Last Week’s Contest Results: Well it wasn't quite last week but the winner of the last contest was Mary Haring. She correctly found the reference: "Zingaro" is the Italian word for deadbeat. Yey Mary. She will enjoy a prize.
TONIGHT'S DRAMATIC REENACTMENT: Last weeks secret show! Cake plays Cake. Whoever went plays the audience.
TONIGHT'S SINGLED-OUT LIST MEMBER: Amy Shuba. It takes me singling her out these days to get her to meetings.
PORN TITLE OF THE WEEK: Beaver & Buttcheeks
Do you like booze? I know I do. The El Bobo has booze. C'mon out. Bring your friends. I know I will. See you there! bye-ee!
8.3.2k1
When Page and Plant left the restaurant I was sure they would be playing the TNSC secret show the following night in San Francisco. They were the ones doing the convincing; Robert owed me a big favor. A few years back – while I was still living in Chicago – I bumped into him at the Addison L station. He was rummaging through his pockets and looking thoroughly disgusted. It was hard to miss him, what at over six-five … and that hair! Well he was patting down his pockets and spitting out some great English swear words (I’m a sucker for English slang -- ask anyone). As he was standing right next to the turnstile I knew immediately that he couldn’t find his token. “Hey Robert,” I said, “you lose your token?” He looked at me and rolled his eyes. “Oh, hey Josh. Yeh. I can’t find the foking thing anywhere. I had a whole bleeding army of them earlier.” I had just bought a new roll, so I peeled off two and handed him one. “Oh no, mate, I’ll just call me driver,” he said. “Oh jeebus, Robert. It’s the least I can do, what with Custard Pie and Ramble On.” “Thanks, mate. I won’t forget this.” We shook hands. “My pleasure, Robert Plant . This gets you back for When the Levee Breaks.” “Okey, then,” he chuckled.
So when he called me last Wednesday and said he was sending a car over I didn’t think that the car would be taking me to the airport! I had a few pops at the Admiral’s Club then jetted to JFK. He met me at the gate the next morning. “Sorry about the red-eye, old man.” Nothing to it, I told him. “Look, I brought you here to talk about making good on that favour I owe you. A friend of mine has agreed to help.” “You just said ‘favor’ with a ‘U’ in it, didn’t you,” I kidded. “You’re a bloody comedian, you are. Come on.” We drove into Manhattan and wheeled up to a curb in front of a familiar-looking deli. I asked him: “Doesn’t Marty Scorsese get Reubens here?” “In twenty-five seconds you’re going to know why he does,” He said. He was right.
As if cued by me finishing my pickle, Robert says, “Ah. Here’s my friend.” Jimmy Page hisownself walks in. “Hi Jimmy,” I said. “Hello Josh, it’s been a while,” he said, referring to the time I bailed him out of a tragic lost bus pass on Sunset in LA. “God, what was that? ’89?” I said. We laughed.
I said, “So what’s up?” Robert said, “That nice turn you did for me deserves a little payback. I’m chatting with Jimmy last week and your name comes up and he says he owes you a favour – excuse me – a “favor” too. He then cooks up an idea to play a show for you there in San Francisco, as we’re going into studio to record there next week. I thought it was a smashing idea so we brought you here to chat about it. What do you think?” I thought it was swell. “What do you need me to do, fellas? I’m in. I know a mess of lovely people that would get a kick out of you guys playing a show.” “That’s great. Really. That’s wonderful,” Jimmy says. “I’ve been trying to think of something for years. You can help us set it up, though.” “Oh, of course! What do you need?” I said. “Just find a small venue that has a P.A. We’ll do the rest.” “I’m on it,” I said. “Give me a call tomorrow.” “Cheers,” they said, and left.
Only a few calls from the seatback phone on the way back to ‘Frisco locked in the stage at Make Out Room. The bartender there is a doll and she agreed right away. I didn’t say it was going to be two rock Gods playing live, but the promise of a great act was all she needed. “The Mothertruckers stank the place up last night,” she said, “the place needs some good juju.” I then phoned Robert with the good news and hung up and began trying to get a little shut-eye, getting comfy with a half-moon-shaped neck-pillow thing. Just as I was nodding off, a flight attendant touched my shoulder and said there was a call coming in for me and asked me to pick up the seatback phone. It was my best friend Phil! Here’s what he said:
“Yeah, I've got a venue announcement for you: Thursday, 5:38pm Pad 39A Kennedy Space Center. I know it's short notice, but take off Thursday and Friday. We'll watch Discovery launch, throw down a few at the beach, light some fireworks, and watch some baseball with your Dad over the weekend. I’ll plan your itinerary.”
This being a once-in-a-lifetime chance, I said: “I’ll be ready to leave tonight. Let me know the airline and flight number.” He said, “Roger. I’ll call you back.” He talks funny like that.
When I called Robert back to tell him I got a better offer, Jimmy answered his phone. I told him what was up. “Oh wow, mate, that’s fantastic. I don’t blame you. Get down there and see it. I’ll tell Robert. He’ll understand too. We’ll ring you some other time. Cheers!” he said and hung up.
So there you have it. I almost got you lovely list members a secret show last week. I guess we’ll have to wail till next time.
For now: The El Bobo
News: Thanks to Moss for his Pinch Hit Venue announcement. Or announcements. I had about five in my InBox. Lessee … Gary is new to the list. I’m probably forgetting someone … Oh yeh! Freshy and Bobo provide new addresses. Great!
The venues for the next two Thursdays (8.4 and 8.5) will be the same venues that were featured 8.4 and 8.5 Y2K. See the archive for specifics. Reason being: Excellent things happened at those places.
Comments: tnsc@therein-lies.com
TONIGHT'S CONTEST: Find the reference!
Last Week’s Contest Results: Well it wasn't quite last week but the winner of the last contest was Mary Haring. She correctly found the reference: "Zingaro" is the Italian word for deadbeat. Yey Mary. She will enjoy a prize.
TONIGHT'S DRAMATIC REENACTMENT: Last weeks secret show! Cake plays Cake. Whoever went plays the audience.
TONIGHT'S SINGLED-OUT LIST MEMBER: Amy Shuba. It takes me singling her out these days to get her to meetings.
PORN TITLE OF THE WEEK: Beaver & Buttcheeks
Do you like booze? I know I do. The El Bobo has booze. C'mon out. Bring your friends. I know I will. See you there! bye-ee!
Thursday, August 02, 2001
Zingaro!
8.1.2k1
With lousy weather, few spectators and deadbeats that mostly stayed put, San Francisco’s “Deadbeat on the Move Day 2001” was a less than spectacular event.
A spontaneous happening, the small number of deadbeats relocating was disappointing to some participants.
A middle-aged deadbeat named Sal was looking forward to new digs.
“The place I was at got stale. I been in it every day for weeks. That’s what these ‘Onna Move’ days are all about. Change of venue. Only this time hardly anyone moved.”
No records exist from last year’s Deadbeat on the Move Day, but eyewitnesses to both events recall more deadbeats on the move in the year 2000.
Jessie, a 34 year-old deadbeat, chose not to move.
“My place here on the sidewalk is pretty okey,” he said. “I got here a week or two ago and I’m finding it to be great. Lotsa light, a good breeze, you know.”
Still, a fair amount of deadbeats went on the move: A scruffy man in a SF Giants cap and overalls stalked down Seventh Street, apparently with a purpose; a deadbeat riding a mountain bike with no seat cruised down Folsom Street at a speed that suggested he had a destination; a fellow pulling an impressive number of fully-laden shopping carts down Mission Street’s bike lane seemed to be going somewhere specific.
A man identified as “Phil,” a self-proclaimed sponsor of the event, was not impressed.
“Usually you get a mess of folks on the move. Not just one here, a few there. I don’t get it. Folks just not fired up anymore. Time was, “Deadbeat on the Move Day” was popular. Most my friends would get their butts in gear.”
Phil speculated that the recently completed construction on the highway overpasses had yielded prime real estate, complete with shelter and privacy. Many of the encampments can be seen outfitted with cookstoves, clothes lines, some furniture and electronic devices.
As to the handful of spectators, Phil would only guess.
“Some folks don’t wanna see deadbeats on the move. They turn their noses up. They cross the street and walk on the other side.”
No public official was seen at the event, nor could any be reached for comment.
A N N I E ' S
The news: It's Annie's tonight, because that is easy. A crowd pleaser. You know. Also, The Cult is not sold out. The show is next Monday, 06 August. Get yer tix! Also, some folks attending the Dave/Anna wedding are talking about flights to SD and lodging . This should be formalized, as the date is approaching. Stay tuned for a link w/ info.
Comments: tnsc@therein-lies.com
TONIGHT'S CONTEST: Find the reference!
Last Week’s Contest Results: The VA title was "Bonneteau." This is a frog word for "little hat," which refers to the folded cards in three card monty which look like little hats. They look more like little tents, you ask me. Show a Frenchman a little tent and he'll call it a little hat ... after he surrenders to the nearest German. Winner ... Tama. She will enjoy a lovely prize.
TONIGHT'S DRAMATIC REENACTMENT: hmmm.
TONIGHT'S SINGLED-OUT LIST MEMBER: Anna. Because she never gets mentioned anymore.
PORN TITLE OF THE WEEK: The Politix of Spanking
Some folks will be working late, but the rest of ya get over to the bar! Some folks will be there as soon as they can. Bring your friends. Some folks I know will. See you there! bye-ee!
8.1.2k1
With lousy weather, few spectators and deadbeats that mostly stayed put, San Francisco’s “Deadbeat on the Move Day 2001” was a less than spectacular event.
A spontaneous happening, the small number of deadbeats relocating was disappointing to some participants.
A middle-aged deadbeat named Sal was looking forward to new digs.
“The place I was at got stale. I been in it every day for weeks. That’s what these ‘Onna Move’ days are all about. Change of venue. Only this time hardly anyone moved.”
No records exist from last year’s Deadbeat on the Move Day, but eyewitnesses to both events recall more deadbeats on the move in the year 2000.
Jessie, a 34 year-old deadbeat, chose not to move.
“My place here on the sidewalk is pretty okey,” he said. “I got here a week or two ago and I’m finding it to be great. Lotsa light, a good breeze, you know.”
Still, a fair amount of deadbeats went on the move: A scruffy man in a SF Giants cap and overalls stalked down Seventh Street, apparently with a purpose; a deadbeat riding a mountain bike with no seat cruised down Folsom Street at a speed that suggested he had a destination; a fellow pulling an impressive number of fully-laden shopping carts down Mission Street’s bike lane seemed to be going somewhere specific.
A man identified as “Phil,” a self-proclaimed sponsor of the event, was not impressed.
“Usually you get a mess of folks on the move. Not just one here, a few there. I don’t get it. Folks just not fired up anymore. Time was, “Deadbeat on the Move Day” was popular. Most my friends would get their butts in gear.”
Phil speculated that the recently completed construction on the highway overpasses had yielded prime real estate, complete with shelter and privacy. Many of the encampments can be seen outfitted with cookstoves, clothes lines, some furniture and electronic devices.
As to the handful of spectators, Phil would only guess.
“Some folks don’t wanna see deadbeats on the move. They turn their noses up. They cross the street and walk on the other side.”
No public official was seen at the event, nor could any be reached for comment.
A N N I E ' S
The news: It's Annie's tonight, because that is easy. A crowd pleaser. You know. Also, The Cult is not sold out. The show is next Monday, 06 August. Get yer tix! Also, some folks attending the Dave/Anna wedding are talking about flights to SD and lodging . This should be formalized, as the date is approaching. Stay tuned for a link w/ info.
Comments: tnsc@therein-lies.com
TONIGHT'S CONTEST: Find the reference!
Last Week’s Contest Results: The VA title was "Bonneteau." This is a frog word for "little hat," which refers to the folded cards in three card monty which look like little hats. They look more like little tents, you ask me. Show a Frenchman a little tent and he'll call it a little hat ... after he surrenders to the nearest German. Winner ... Tama. She will enjoy a lovely prize.
TONIGHT'S DRAMATIC REENACTMENT: hmmm.
TONIGHT'S SINGLED-OUT LIST MEMBER: Anna. Because she never gets mentioned anymore.
PORN TITLE OF THE WEEK: The Politix of Spanking
Some folks will be working late, but the rest of ya get over to the bar! Some folks will be there as soon as they can. Bring your friends. Some folks I know will. See you there! bye-ee!
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