Dear Liza!
10.4.2k2
Thursday, 24 October 2002
You ever been in a crowd, say at a party, where you have to raise your voice just to be heard by the person standing right next to you only to say something provocative just at the moment there is an unnatural lull in the din of noise? Then there's egg on your face or if you're like me you immediately say something even louder and more provocative. See, because with me, that's what you get. I step in that kind of shit all the time, just, it doesn't bother me none. Example: I'm driving my c.a.r. to work the other day and find myself stopped dead in my tracks for no explainable reason. Highway driving = highway speeds? Nope. 0.0 mph/kph. As I got no car stereo due to a wild series of mishaps with a detatchable Alpine CDA 7838 faceplate, I got no choice but to sing shit to myself. Sometimes the things I'm singing are sung to the tunes of actual songs, but often times not. This time I was singing, pretty loudly, "Why the FUCK are we stopping, you assholes, you assholes / Why the FUCK are we stopping, you assholes, why the fuck?" I look over and there's a car stopped in the lane next to me and as both our windows are rolled down this pilgrim hears everything I just sang. We make eye contact. Her jaw begins to drop. I see no other option but to let fly: "I guess 'cause we're dipshits, and can't drive, and can't drive / I guess 'cause we're dipshits who can't fucking drive." I'm halfway through that verse when she rolls up her windows. Teach her to eavesdrop on my singing.
Who misses Annie? AC does, and I do too! That's it!
See you there! bye-ee!
Thursday, October 17, 2002
Breaking News!
10.3.2k2
Shocking the entire TNSC community, the Founding Members today announced the appointment of two longtime List Members to the lofty status of Honorary Founding Members. Mr. Moss Gross and Mr. Mathias Genser sped through the appointment and confirmation processes and endured a formal but brief inauguration ceremony this afternoon at the TNSC's temporary headquarters near the Jon D. Fiore Room at the Tinhorn Bar in San Francisco's UN Plaza (the actual location of the TNSC's temporary headquarters is classified). (See photo spread at end of article.)
A press release by the Founding Members, read by outgoing TNSC Press Secretary/Master of Ceremonies Mr. Todd Lindo, declared Mr. Gross and Mr. Genser worthy of their appointments for being "especially diligent in attendance, utterly presentable in appearance, exceptional in generosity ... and excelling ... in promotion of the TNSC Spirit."
When asked for an explaination of "the TNSC Sprit" at the subsequent press conference, Founding Member Alan J. Chimenti stated, "That's a typo. It should have said 'TNSC Spit.'" Further explaination did not seem to be necessary, as the reporter from the Radium Glow retook her seat.
Mr. Gross is an ex-Navy SEAL, whose military exploits include infiltrating Iraq's fabled Republican Guard, singlehandedly tricking a batallion of the little devils into turning themselves over to the Coalition forces at Basra. He has a no-nonsense approach to closing car doors, buying drinks for other List Members and tweeking the nonsensical entertainment engines dreamed up by TNSC Robot and programmed by the geeks at the University of Bisbee. He joined the TNSC in 1997.
Mr. Genser boasts an impressive list of friends he wouldn't dare bring to a TNSC meeting, in addition to a well-managed and very stylish silver goatee. A World Record-holding skin diver, Mr. Genser legally changed his middle name to Abalone in 1977. He is known for selflessly giving people rides home after TNSC meetings, even if those he's driving are scattered all over the Bay Area. Mr. Genser has been a member since Spring 2000 and currently leads all List Members in consecutive meetings attended.
A reception for the Honorary Founding Members is planned for this evening at the Orbit Room.
Here's a couple pics.
Misters Gross and Genser arrive at their Honorary Founding Member swearing-in ceremony, accompanied by TNSC Founding Member Mr. Alan J. Chimenti and Longtime List Member Mr. Cedrick Jonnae. Not Pictured is driver/Founding Member Mr. John Metsker. Photo D. Ingle UofB Bee
TNSC MC/Outgoing Press Secretary Mr. Todd Lindo administers the Club's secret rite, The Oath of Melissa, to Mr. Gross at precisely 13:37 PST, 17 October 2002. Attending the ceremony, from left: Old Crone, Mrs. David Hindley, Mr. Ceddrick Jonnae, Mr. Carl Kaphan, Founding Member TNSC Robot, Mr. Mark Bobek, Mr. Bob Roesler, Founding Member Mr. Alan J. Chimenti, Honorary Founding Member Mr. Mathias Genser, Honorary Founding Member Mr. Moss Gross, Porn Title of the Week Coordinator Miss Tama Blough, (Unidentified person), Mrs. Alan J. Chimenti, TNSC MC/Outgoing Press Secretary Mr. Todd Lindo, Founding Member Miss Susan Dynamite, Founding Member Mr. John Metsker and Longtime List Member Mr. Jason Porter. TNSC Patron, Mr. John Astin's likeness hangs in the background. (Some Members not to scale.) Photo D. Ingle UofB Bee
10.3.2k2
Shocking the entire TNSC community, the Founding Members today announced the appointment of two longtime List Members to the lofty status of Honorary Founding Members. Mr. Moss Gross and Mr. Mathias Genser sped through the appointment and confirmation processes and endured a formal but brief inauguration ceremony this afternoon at the TNSC's temporary headquarters near the Jon D. Fiore Room at the Tinhorn Bar in San Francisco's UN Plaza (the actual location of the TNSC's temporary headquarters is classified). (See photo spread at end of article.)
A press release by the Founding Members, read by outgoing TNSC Press Secretary/Master of Ceremonies Mr. Todd Lindo, declared Mr. Gross and Mr. Genser worthy of their appointments for being "especially diligent in attendance, utterly presentable in appearance, exceptional in generosity ... and excelling ... in promotion of the TNSC Spirit."
When asked for an explaination of "the TNSC Sprit" at the subsequent press conference, Founding Member Alan J. Chimenti stated, "That's a typo. It should have said 'TNSC Spit.'" Further explaination did not seem to be necessary, as the reporter from the Radium Glow retook her seat.
Mr. Gross is an ex-Navy SEAL, whose military exploits include infiltrating Iraq's fabled Republican Guard, singlehandedly tricking a batallion of the little devils into turning themselves over to the Coalition forces at Basra. He has a no-nonsense approach to closing car doors, buying drinks for other List Members and tweeking the nonsensical entertainment engines dreamed up by TNSC Robot and programmed by the geeks at the University of Bisbee. He joined the TNSC in 1997.
Mr. Genser boasts an impressive list of friends he wouldn't dare bring to a TNSC meeting, in addition to a well-managed and very stylish silver goatee. A World Record-holding skin diver, Mr. Genser legally changed his middle name to Abalone in 1977. He is known for selflessly giving people rides home after TNSC meetings, even if those he's driving are scattered all over the Bay Area. Mr. Genser has been a member since Spring 2000 and currently leads all List Members in consecutive meetings attended.
A reception for the Honorary Founding Members is planned for this evening at the Orbit Room.
Here's a couple pics.
Misters Gross and Genser arrive at their Honorary Founding Member swearing-in ceremony, accompanied by TNSC Founding Member Mr. Alan J. Chimenti and Longtime List Member Mr. Cedrick Jonnae. Not Pictured is driver/Founding Member Mr. John Metsker. Photo D. Ingle UofB Bee
TNSC MC/Outgoing Press Secretary Mr. Todd Lindo administers the Club's secret rite, The Oath of Melissa, to Mr. Gross at precisely 13:37 PST, 17 October 2002. Attending the ceremony, from left: Old Crone, Mrs. David Hindley, Mr. Ceddrick Jonnae, Mr. Carl Kaphan, Founding Member TNSC Robot, Mr. Mark Bobek, Mr. Bob Roesler, Founding Member Mr. Alan J. Chimenti, Honorary Founding Member Mr. Mathias Genser, Honorary Founding Member Mr. Moss Gross, Porn Title of the Week Coordinator Miss Tama Blough, (Unidentified person), Mrs. Alan J. Chimenti, TNSC MC/Outgoing Press Secretary Mr. Todd Lindo, Founding Member Miss Susan Dynamite, Founding Member Mr. John Metsker and Longtime List Member Mr. Jason Porter. TNSC Patron, Mr. John Astin's likeness hangs in the background. (Some Members not to scale.) Photo D. Ingle UofB Bee
Thursday, October 10, 2002
Thursday, October 03, 2002
10.1.2k2
Thursday, 3 October 2002
I was reading in bed the other night. Finishing up a nice story by one of my fav. writers: A one Neal Barrett, Jr. I had my feet stuffed into the flap of the turned-down covers. After a bit, the totsys started to get hotsy. I pulled a foot out and I noticed I still had my lucky TV-static-colored sox on. These are good sox, even though their elastic done run off some time ago. A time like this, however, that’s a bonus. They easy to kick off.
In a jif, the sox were off. A mere heel to toe with pull and a repeat of said heel to toe with pull and that’s all she wrote. Two sox off and ready for ejectio! As the left side of my bed is against the wall, the only place to kick the sox was to my right, so I raised up my left leg, so as to allow a right-foot scoop-and-kick, and let them lucky sox go. Seems my cat was sitting just down range, most likely admiring the white noise machine (read: Fan). If an Army colonel could have seen Fatty’s reaction under bombardment he would have conscripted the little shit in a minute and sent him to the front. As an artillery “spotter,” as they were formerly known, or as an “F.O.” as they’re known these days. “Forward Observer.” Times I got a different meaning for F.O. for this cat.
Fats didn’t bat an eye. I think the left sock actually grazed him and he could not have cared less. This from a cat that jumps two feet in the air when a bee farts in Florida. I saw his bravery while under the onslaught of flying sox and pictured him calling in Snake and Nape on his own position in some faraway mudhole in an act of supreme selflessness. It’s a Grand Old Flag, Fats. Fats?
Seems Fats had deserted his post during my fantasy-time.
Oh, but here he was up on the bed with me after all. “Hi Old Man,” I said. He looked at me sideways. “Hey,” I said, “you think you can NOT pull that early-AM squawking tomorrow morning like you pulled THIS morning?” “Tell you what,” Fats said, “you don’t pull a ‘forgot to feed and water the cats’ tonight and I’ll see what I can do about the squawking. Deal?” Seemed reasonable. “Arrrrright,” I said.
Doc’s Clock.
See you there. bye-ee!
Thursday, 3 October 2002
I was reading in bed the other night. Finishing up a nice story by one of my fav. writers: A one Neal Barrett, Jr. I had my feet stuffed into the flap of the turned-down covers. After a bit, the totsys started to get hotsy. I pulled a foot out and I noticed I still had my lucky TV-static-colored sox on. These are good sox, even though their elastic done run off some time ago. A time like this, however, that’s a bonus. They easy to kick off.
In a jif, the sox were off. A mere heel to toe with pull and a repeat of said heel to toe with pull and that’s all she wrote. Two sox off and ready for ejectio! As the left side of my bed is against the wall, the only place to kick the sox was to my right, so I raised up my left leg, so as to allow a right-foot scoop-and-kick, and let them lucky sox go. Seems my cat was sitting just down range, most likely admiring the white noise machine (read: Fan). If an Army colonel could have seen Fatty’s reaction under bombardment he would have conscripted the little shit in a minute and sent him to the front. As an artillery “spotter,” as they were formerly known, or as an “F.O.” as they’re known these days. “Forward Observer.” Times I got a different meaning for F.O. for this cat.
Fats didn’t bat an eye. I think the left sock actually grazed him and he could not have cared less. This from a cat that jumps two feet in the air when a bee farts in Florida. I saw his bravery while under the onslaught of flying sox and pictured him calling in Snake and Nape on his own position in some faraway mudhole in an act of supreme selflessness. It’s a Grand Old Flag, Fats. Fats?
Seems Fats had deserted his post during my fantasy-time.
Oh, but here he was up on the bed with me after all. “Hi Old Man,” I said. He looked at me sideways. “Hey,” I said, “you think you can NOT pull that early-AM squawking tomorrow morning like you pulled THIS morning?” “Tell you what,” Fats said, “you don’t pull a ‘forgot to feed and water the cats’ tonight and I’ll see what I can do about the squawking. Deal?” Seemed reasonable. “Arrrrright,” I said.
Doc’s Clock.
See you there. bye-ee!
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