Lou Malnati's
6.4.2k4
Rollin' thru Berkeley the other night with this hottie, we're lookin' for a Chicago-style pizza joint without any luck: Ess-peeediadotcom's maps are for shit. Real nice night, though. Pretty sunset. Didn't mind being semi-lost. 107-7 The Bone was pumpin' out some good rock and roll that made the drive. An all-time Van Halen classic, Panama, got me thinking. I heard the line, "got my back up against the record machine," and wondered if the kids these days understood the line. Do they know what records are, let alone a record machine? I've heard that nine-of-ten of them little devils don't know who Col. Sanders is, what the sum of sixty plus nine is and can't identify the USA on a fuckin map of the USA. Granted, some lyrics rock lyrics from before my time befuddle me ("wrapped up like a douche into the rumor of the night ... WTF???), but I know what a telegraph is, even though I ain't ever used one.
Started me thinkin' about really MEANINGFUL rock lyrics from the 80's that are lost on the youth of today. The Bone rolled out another song right after that prolly spanned the generation gap some, but also left the kids hanging. The song "Money For Nothing" mentions microwave ovens, refridgerators and TV's. Sure. The little dopes know these devices. But when Knopffler or whatever his name is goes on to say, "Just play your guitar on the MTV" I bet the kids turn off. Ain't no one playing any instruments on the MTV today. I guess it's later than I think.
Tonight - Kickin' it SOMA w/ Jesus: Annie's.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Be there! Bid farewell to Dani ... lost to Germany and a German. Also one yr last chances to see Mark Bobek ... lost to ... China.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, June 24, 2004
Thursday, June 17, 2004
6.3.2k4
Dingus and Dingus
Here's a TNSC bedtime story for ya all to tell each other and if ya got a wee one or are gonna get a wee one or gonna have a wee one or ARE a wee one and I know some of you got one or are gonna get one or gonna have one or are one you can tell it to them or listen up.
There once were two brothers and their Mommy and Daddy were too interested in hitting the booze than thinking of names for the boys that they remained nameless for years. They would be playing trucks together and one would look upon the other and say, "what's your name? Gimme that 'dozer," whereupon the other would reply, "what's your name? Okay, 'cept pass me that Excel Spreadsheet." The first brother looked quizzically upon his brother and said, "what's your name? We're playing trucks. I will not pass you the Excel Spreadsheet. I will pass you the dump truck." The other brother replied, "That's fine, what's your name? But don't you think we should think about refinancing this fleet of ours before too long, as depreciation is a bitch." The other brother, all tall and skinny and curly-haired, adjusted his tie and said, "Jeez, what's your name? I don't really care. I'm getting rather bored with these trucks, shall we get a drink?" And of course the other brother said, "what's your name? That's the best idea I've heard all day." So they retired to the bar and enjoyed red wine and Beefeater martinis up/olives and wished each other happy birthday and bon voyage.
The End.
Tonight - Kickin' it DOWNTOWN: The House of Shields.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Be there! Bring yr pals - I know I will. It's Celebrity Night, after all.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Dingus and Dingus
Here's a TNSC bedtime story for ya all to tell each other and if ya got a wee one or are gonna get a wee one or gonna have a wee one or ARE a wee one and I know some of you got one or are gonna get one or gonna have one or are one you can tell it to them or listen up.
There once were two brothers and their Mommy and Daddy were too interested in hitting the booze than thinking of names for the boys that they remained nameless for years. They would be playing trucks together and one would look upon the other and say, "what's your name? Gimme that 'dozer," whereupon the other would reply, "what's your name? Okay, 'cept pass me that Excel Spreadsheet." The first brother looked quizzically upon his brother and said, "what's your name? We're playing trucks. I will not pass you the Excel Spreadsheet. I will pass you the dump truck." The other brother replied, "That's fine, what's your name? But don't you think we should think about refinancing this fleet of ours before too long, as depreciation is a bitch." The other brother, all tall and skinny and curly-haired, adjusted his tie and said, "Jeez, what's your name? I don't really care. I'm getting rather bored with these trucks, shall we get a drink?" And of course the other brother said, "what's your name? That's the best idea I've heard all day." So they retired to the bar and enjoyed red wine and Beefeater martinis up/olives and wished each other happy birthday and bon voyage.
The End.
Tonight - Kickin' it DOWNTOWN: The House of Shields.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Be there! Bring yr pals - I know I will. It's Celebrity Night, after all.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, June 10, 2004
6.2.2k4
I hope all y'all enjoy camping and by that I mean "car camping" because it ain't really camping w/o scads of icy-cold Coors Lights. I hope you enjoy camping cuz it's fun to sit and stare at a real live fire that YOU built all the while drinking icy-cold Coors Lights and thinking mebbe it's time to pull the trigger on them sausages you got stashed in the non-beer cooler. It's fun to hit logs w/ hatchets. It's fun to pitch a tent in the out-of-doors ... if you catch my meaning.
Got a couple expectations when camping: Yr gonna get rather filthy. Yr gonna smell pine forest and clean air. Yr gonna get dirt and sticks and leaves and such in the tent no matter how hard you try not to. Yr gonna hear the calls of the wild creatures who LIVE in the forest. Yr gonna stay up late and yr gonna eat eggs in the morning. Yr gonna pee on a tree.
Another expectation when yr camping: Yr not gonna be woken in the middle of the night by an air-raid siren. Call me crazy but I never thought the campground in the Sierra Nat'l Forest near Huntington Lake at around 9000 feet elevation was a strategic target for whatever airborne enemys we got but clearly someone up around there does and remains vigilent 24/7 cuz they must have spotted some tell-tale sign of impending aerial assault on their radar and signalled the sound-asleep Memorial Day campers with the unmistakable klaxon that the bombers approached! I was eagerly awaiting the KRUMP! KRUMP! of the triple-A as our host fought off the hordes and dreading the bombs through the pines and dogwoods. And us without our helmets!
Not a fuckin' thing ever came of the air-raid siren. No ack-ack guns, no secondary explosions and no searchlights sweeping the heavens. Mebbe it was a drill or something. Mebbe the bombers turned back. Who the fuckey fuck knows?
Tonight - Kickin' it Market Street: Orbit Room.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Be there! This is where it all began.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
I hope all y'all enjoy camping and by that I mean "car camping" because it ain't really camping w/o scads of icy-cold Coors Lights. I hope you enjoy camping cuz it's fun to sit and stare at a real live fire that YOU built all the while drinking icy-cold Coors Lights and thinking mebbe it's time to pull the trigger on them sausages you got stashed in the non-beer cooler. It's fun to hit logs w/ hatchets. It's fun to pitch a tent in the out-of-doors ... if you catch my meaning.
Got a couple expectations when camping: Yr gonna get rather filthy. Yr gonna smell pine forest and clean air. Yr gonna get dirt and sticks and leaves and such in the tent no matter how hard you try not to. Yr gonna hear the calls of the wild creatures who LIVE in the forest. Yr gonna stay up late and yr gonna eat eggs in the morning. Yr gonna pee on a tree.
Another expectation when yr camping: Yr not gonna be woken in the middle of the night by an air-raid siren. Call me crazy but I never thought the campground in the Sierra Nat'l Forest near Huntington Lake at around 9000 feet elevation was a strategic target for whatever airborne enemys we got but clearly someone up around there does and remains vigilent 24/7 cuz they must have spotted some tell-tale sign of impending aerial assault on their radar and signalled the sound-asleep Memorial Day campers with the unmistakable klaxon that the bombers approached! I was eagerly awaiting the KRUMP! KRUMP! of the triple-A as our host fought off the hordes and dreading the bombs through the pines and dogwoods. And us without our helmets!
Not a fuckin' thing ever came of the air-raid siren. No ack-ack guns, no secondary explosions and no searchlights sweeping the heavens. Mebbe it was a drill or something. Mebbe the bombers turned back. Who the fuckey fuck knows?
Tonight - Kickin' it Market Street: Orbit Room.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Be there! This is where it all began.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, June 03, 2004
Durango
6.1.2k4
Four of us went to see Tool a few years back at this goddamn stupid venue called the Shoreline Amphitheater. Sumbitch place is build on a real live landfill and it's not uncommon for the fokng ground up in the "Lawn Seating" to catch fire, what with them methanes driftin' on up from thousand-year-old chicken bones, diapers and whatnot. There's some real seats too, and a good half of them ya can't see from. Designer of the place was on crack. And!!! there's some city ordinance that Tool can't rock as loud as they typically would. This setting up the contention that unless yr sitting in a rare "good" seat kinda close to the action, yr evening Tool rocking will be disappointing.
I had two sets of two tickets. I gave the better of the pair to my brother and he and another pal went and sat a few rows closer. My seat was okay and the Tool rocking was loud enough and we were close enough to see the singer Maynard's hangdown when he ceremoniously exposed it. Or revealed it. Or whipped it out. Or dropped trou. Or brought the meat. Or served the sausage. Or whatever.
So Tool rocked my fucking socks off. They dish out the rock. You ever been lucky enough to see Tool you know what I'm talkin' about. I know Longtime Listmember Lee Lee the Musical Bee has seen the Tool and been rocked. I enjoyed the show.
Brother didn't seem to have seen the same show I did. I say this because he didn't like it. He said the Tool concert sucked. I thought mebbe he was on crack too. He went on and on. As he's apt to do from time to time. As we were walking back to the truck he again mentioned how Tool sucked and that's when a semi-hotty punkrockgrrrrrl overheard him and demanded an immediate retraction. He told the gal to go boil an egg or something along those lines and no way would he retract his contention that the just witnessed live Tool concert sucked the greasy cock of the Dark Lord. I'm fairly certain those were his exact words.
It seemed that the grrrrrl was a personal friend of the Tool singer Maynard because she felt it necessary to defend him. How she did so was screaming at the top of her lungs: "Oh YEH???!! FUCK YOU!!!! Maynard fucks you in the ass!!!! Maynard fucks you in the asssssss!" I thought this was rather curious.
Tonight - Kickin' it Downtown: The Irish Bank.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Be there! Have some bleu cheese fries. They are so nice.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
6.1.2k4
Four of us went to see Tool a few years back at this goddamn stupid venue called the Shoreline Amphitheater. Sumbitch place is build on a real live landfill and it's not uncommon for the fokng ground up in the "Lawn Seating" to catch fire, what with them methanes driftin' on up from thousand-year-old chicken bones, diapers and whatnot. There's some real seats too, and a good half of them ya can't see from. Designer of the place was on crack. And!!! there's some city ordinance that Tool can't rock as loud as they typically would. This setting up the contention that unless yr sitting in a rare "good" seat kinda close to the action, yr evening Tool rocking will be disappointing.
I had two sets of two tickets. I gave the better of the pair to my brother and he and another pal went and sat a few rows closer. My seat was okay and the Tool rocking was loud enough and we were close enough to see the singer Maynard's hangdown when he ceremoniously exposed it. Or revealed it. Or whipped it out. Or dropped trou. Or brought the meat. Or served the sausage. Or whatever.
So Tool rocked my fucking socks off. They dish out the rock. You ever been lucky enough to see Tool you know what I'm talkin' about. I know Longtime Listmember Lee Lee the Musical Bee has seen the Tool and been rocked. I enjoyed the show.
Brother didn't seem to have seen the same show I did. I say this because he didn't like it. He said the Tool concert sucked. I thought mebbe he was on crack too. He went on and on. As he's apt to do from time to time. As we were walking back to the truck he again mentioned how Tool sucked and that's when a semi-hotty punkrockgrrrrrl overheard him and demanded an immediate retraction. He told the gal to go boil an egg or something along those lines and no way would he retract his contention that the just witnessed live Tool concert sucked the greasy cock of the Dark Lord. I'm fairly certain those were his exact words.
It seemed that the grrrrrl was a personal friend of the Tool singer Maynard because she felt it necessary to defend him. How she did so was screaming at the top of her lungs: "Oh YEH???!! FUCK YOU!!!! Maynard fucks you in the ass!!!! Maynard fucks you in the asssssss!" I thought this was rather curious.
Tonight - Kickin' it Downtown: The Irish Bank.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Be there! Have some bleu cheese fries. They are so nice.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)