Go, baby, go!
12.4.2k7
I wish some old seafaring bloke would wish me to "always have wind at my back" and mean it. We've had some very blustery days in Venice Beach lately and I'm on a bike every day. If you know the difference between riding into 40mph winds and riding with them you know why I'd like good tidings from the Gorton's Fisherman. In one situation you hardly have to pedal. In the other you huff and puff. The swirling nature of the SoCal winds seems to always find it right in my face. Poo.
Tonight - Homestead for the Holidays, again.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
May yr drinks be cold and wet, yr butts be warm and dry and the winds affecting neither. -old TNSC blessing.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Domed
12.3.2k7
I recently made an iTunes playlist of a bunch of mp3s I got while working at a weird-but-cool place in SF (Stillman might remember the joint) and I gotta tell you ... I'm liking it more than my iTunes library.
It's got Thai pop from the 70s, Blacksploitation anthems, high school bands, Star Trek sound effects, Carl Stalling, a witch casting spells, Detroit funk, The Stooges, The Residents, Stereolab, Nurse With Wound, Underworld, Quintron, Flossie and the Unicorns and a million other things, many artists having been around for years but are totally new to me.
Viva Crazy mp3!
Tonight - Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Homestead for the Holidays. Happy Winter Holiday Season to you all, yo.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
12.3.2k7
I recently made an iTunes playlist of a bunch of mp3s I got while working at a weird-but-cool place in SF (Stillman might remember the joint) and I gotta tell you ... I'm liking it more than my iTunes library.
It's got Thai pop from the 70s, Blacksploitation anthems, high school bands, Star Trek sound effects, Carl Stalling, a witch casting spells, Detroit funk, The Stooges, The Residents, Stereolab, Nurse With Wound, Underworld, Quintron, Flossie and the Unicorns and a million other things, many artists having been around for years but are totally new to me.
Viva Crazy mp3!
Tonight - Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Homestead for the Holidays. Happy Winter Holiday Season to you all, yo.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Wacker!
12.2.2k7
Total bummer ... I got fired from my moonlighting job as a VO "talent." Seems someone impressed the producers more than me. That hurts. To get canned just in time for da Holidays. Ah well. Ya can't be on top forever.
I just wonder how it happened. Did some guy walk into the studio with a mouthful of oatmeal and say, "Helllllough. Moooyya nabe uhz Pheeel. Uhma hoadmeeel VeehOh tallud ... " and the rest is history. His oatmeal-mouth VO beat mine by a mile.
Bah humbug.
Tonight - Club Deluxe.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
As uzsh, them suggestive Burlsesque gals are peelin' it over at Deluxe. Get there early!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
12.2.2k7
Total bummer ... I got fired from my moonlighting job as a VO "talent." Seems someone impressed the producers more than me. That hurts. To get canned just in time for da Holidays. Ah well. Ya can't be on top forever.
I just wonder how it happened. Did some guy walk into the studio with a mouthful of oatmeal and say, "Helllllough. Moooyya nabe uhz Pheeel. Uhma hoadmeeel VeehOh tallud ... " and the rest is history. His oatmeal-mouth VO beat mine by a mile.
Bah humbug.
Tonight - Club Deluxe.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
As uzsh, them suggestive Burlsesque gals are peelin' it over at Deluxe. Get there early!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, December 06, 2007
Asthma
12.1.2k7
Last night I unsealed the Notes Archive from 05 August. Right on schedule, I might add ... 120 days after it was sealed. I was puzzled for a moment by the curious look of the thing, as it was rather dirty and had pine needles stuck to it, then remembered that I was on vacation camping when I preserved the notes for their four-month hibernation (I actually used tree sap as the adhesive to secure the closure - very eco-friendly!).
Notes of 05 August chronicled our day at the Hearst Castle in San Simeon, CA, the same Hearst Castle I derided for its gauche decadence in Venue Announcement 9.1.2k7. Notes revealed the usual observations - the broad strokes, the mundane details and the crippling minutia.
The Notes Archive is often a source of Venue Announcement material, as is the case tonight!
Skipping ahead a bit, we have, "No churros at the Visitor Center, but damn-good (HOT) coffee." And there's, "This shuttle-bus driver sucks: I'm gonna boot on this windy road." But what I found really compelling was a note from a little later in the day, "Holy Fuck! Ol' Hearst was a Ren & Stimpy fan! Ren Hoek floor tiles!" Luckily I got a shot with the trusty camera to go with the note.
Perhaps better than that, if you can believe it, is the note made during the shuttle's descent from the sprawling estate. The tour guide at the front of the bus pointed out the former Polar Bear pens then challenged us to spot a ibis or a dik-dik ... two of the several species Hearst stole from Africa to suit his fancy. As the guide wrapped up the tour, she said that while the Hearst family is not in the news so much these days, the family's publishing power is nearly unrivaled in the diversity of its titles and its readership. She asked the group if they could name a Hearst publication. No one did. "Anyone?" she asked. Silence. She said, "What about Redbook? Has anyone heard of Redbook? That's a Hearst publication." Nope. No one heard of Redbook. "House Beautiful?" No. "Esquire??" I heard of all but kept quiet. I wondered if everyone on the bus was visiting from a foreign land. "Okay," the tour guide said, clearly grasping at this point, "Okay. How about Barely Legal? Have you heard of Hearst's publication, Barely Legal?" Thirty or forty hands went up. The guide smiled relief. I nearly choked on my gum.
Tonight - The Attic.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
12.1.2k7
Last night I unsealed the Notes Archive from 05 August. Right on schedule, I might add ... 120 days after it was sealed. I was puzzled for a moment by the curious look of the thing, as it was rather dirty and had pine needles stuck to it, then remembered that I was on vacation camping when I preserved the notes for their four-month hibernation (I actually used tree sap as the adhesive to secure the closure - very eco-friendly!).
Notes of 05 August chronicled our day at the Hearst Castle in San Simeon, CA, the same Hearst Castle I derided for its gauche decadence in Venue Announcement 9.1.2k7. Notes revealed the usual observations - the broad strokes, the mundane details and the crippling minutia.
The Notes Archive is often a source of Venue Announcement material, as is the case tonight!
Skipping ahead a bit, we have, "No churros at the Visitor Center, but damn-good (HOT) coffee." And there's, "This shuttle-bus driver sucks: I'm gonna boot on this windy road." But what I found really compelling was a note from a little later in the day, "Holy Fuck! Ol' Hearst was a Ren & Stimpy fan! Ren Hoek floor tiles!" Luckily I got a shot with the trusty camera to go with the note.
Perhaps better than that, if you can believe it, is the note made during the shuttle's descent from the sprawling estate. The tour guide at the front of the bus pointed out the former Polar Bear pens then challenged us to spot a ibis or a dik-dik ... two of the several species Hearst stole from Africa to suit his fancy. As the guide wrapped up the tour, she said that while the Hearst family is not in the news so much these days, the family's publishing power is nearly unrivaled in the diversity of its titles and its readership. She asked the group if they could name a Hearst publication. No one did. "Anyone?" she asked. Silence. She said, "What about Redbook? Has anyone heard of Redbook? That's a Hearst publication." Nope. No one heard of Redbook. "House Beautiful?" No. "Esquire??" I heard of all but kept quiet. I wondered if everyone on the bus was visiting from a foreign land. "Okay," the tour guide said, clearly grasping at this point, "Okay. How about Barely Legal? Have you heard of Hearst's publication, Barely Legal?" Thirty or forty hands went up. The guide smiled relief. I nearly choked on my gum.
Tonight - The Attic.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Nosey
11.5.2k7
Holiday airport security lines sure are fun. It's hilarious to see the people frantically putting their things in ziplock baggies then barging their way through the crowd to their former place in line. Everyone gets SO upset. And then there's the look that most people have on their face: I hope they don't single-me out! Not that there's any contraband (hopefully, yo) but just for the inconvenience of a "wanding." The line I got in the other day ran out of plastic bins just ahead of me. The jerks up there were to lamb-like to tell the sleepy TSA folks that they were out, so we stood there. And stood there. I started to say something when a guy with a cart made of PVC (non-metallic, sure, but looks like Fred Sanford made a bunch and sold'm to the gov't. Cheapy-as-hell) wheeled up a stack. It was funny to see the folks who had already taken off their shoes scurry their toes outta the way of them monster plastic wheels. Then it was funny to see the grrrrl who showed everyone her thong was way up her crack as she struggled taking off her UGGS. Seriously ... don't those things come off easy? (The UGGS, that is.)
Tonight - Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
11.5.2k7
Holiday airport security lines sure are fun. It's hilarious to see the people frantically putting their things in ziplock baggies then barging their way through the crowd to their former place in line. Everyone gets SO upset. And then there's the look that most people have on their face: I hope they don't single-me out! Not that there's any contraband (hopefully, yo) but just for the inconvenience of a "wanding." The line I got in the other day ran out of plastic bins just ahead of me. The jerks up there were to lamb-like to tell the sleepy TSA folks that they were out, so we stood there. And stood there. I started to say something when a guy with a cart made of PVC (non-metallic, sure, but looks like Fred Sanford made a bunch and sold'm to the gov't. Cheapy-as-hell) wheeled up a stack. It was funny to see the folks who had already taken off their shoes scurry their toes outta the way of them monster plastic wheels. Then it was funny to see the grrrrl who showed everyone her thong was way up her crack as she struggled taking off her UGGS. Seriously ... don't those things come off easy? (The UGGS, that is.)
Tonight - Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Another extra E.
11.3.2k7
What in the hell is the matter with us? I got jerks that cut you off in line for the loo then sucker-punch you for callin' them on it (happened to a pal). I got jerks that BY GOD will not stop at a stop sign even if they see you and see that you have no stop sign and thereby the right-of-way and call you a fuckn asshole for being there and going through the intersection. I have garbage men that pull down wires and bash gates off their tracks. I've got neighbors that abandon cars for months out in front of our place. And I got kids and their PE class across the street. This "physical education" is the biggest joke of them all.
The goddamn class meets at about the time I'm pulling on my socks. The part I see is the run around the smallish playground. Run. ha. It's a two horse race: The short, skinny black grrrrl who gets out of the gates fast, and the tall, lanky long-haired blonde grrrrl who catches her at turn two and doesn't look back. There are more kids in the class, you know, but they, uh, don't run. They walk. Slowly. They shuffle. They don't even try and don't look like they give a good goddamn. I had to take PE back in the day, and we had to run. Jump. Climb things and throw shit. Even the biggest, shortest, stupidest or slowest of us would give it a try. These children don't even try. It's sad. What would they do if they were being chased? The cops would catch them, that's what.
Tonight - Lucky 13.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
11.3.2k7
What in the hell is the matter with us? I got jerks that cut you off in line for the loo then sucker-punch you for callin' them on it (happened to a pal). I got jerks that BY GOD will not stop at a stop sign even if they see you and see that you have no stop sign and thereby the right-of-way and call you a fuckn asshole for being there and going through the intersection. I have garbage men that pull down wires and bash gates off their tracks. I've got neighbors that abandon cars for months out in front of our place. And I got kids and their PE class across the street. This "physical education" is the biggest joke of them all.
The goddamn class meets at about the time I'm pulling on my socks. The part I see is the run around the smallish playground. Run. ha. It's a two horse race: The short, skinny black grrrrl who gets out of the gates fast, and the tall, lanky long-haired blonde grrrrl who catches her at turn two and doesn't look back. There are more kids in the class, you know, but they, uh, don't run. They walk. Slowly. They shuffle. They don't even try and don't look like they give a good goddamn. I had to take PE back in the day, and we had to run. Jump. Climb things and throw shit. Even the biggest, shortest, stupidest or slowest of us would give it a try. These children don't even try. It's sad. What would they do if they were being chased? The cops would catch them, that's what.
Tonight - Lucky 13.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, November 08, 2007
Charles Tillman
11.2.2k7
Ya may remember my post from a few weeks back listing the various things I see on my ride to work. I'm ever on the lookout for cars and other hazards, so it makes sense that I've got my eyes open. Open eyes this am revealed an ugly little poop-brown dog at the junction of an alley perp. to the street I was on. Approaching closer, I expected to see someone standing further down the alley - the ugly little dog's mommy or daddy. I saw neither. The ugly dog didn't look lost or scared or anything other than an unleashed dog out for a walk. "Where's yr ma?" I yelled to the dog as I passed. A block later I approached a young Asian lady in a robe and slippers. She was saying "EEE-NUFF !? !! ??" "EEENUFF!!" I got closer and found that she was in fact saying, "Pea-nut!! Pea-nut!" and looking around frantically.
I said, "You lookin' for a little brown dog?" She said yes.
"It's down the block past that chain-link and the alley," I said, and turned around to indicate further by pointing to where I saw the ugly little dog. She looked where I was pointing. "Down there?" she asked. "Yeah, right there ... wait ... there he is!" I said. The dog stepped out from behind the fence. "That ugly brown dog? Is that what you saw?" she asked, "that's not Peanut." I thought 1 lost dog +1 frantic owner equaled 1 happy reunion. Nope. All it equaled was another morning in the 'hood.
Tonight - Club Deluxe.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
By popular TNSC demand, it's the burlesque gals again tonight. $5 gets you in. More fun than you can shake a tassel at!!!
Show starts at 9pm. Get to the Haight early, dine, record shop, and get to the Deluxe.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
11.2.2k7
Ya may remember my post from a few weeks back listing the various things I see on my ride to work. I'm ever on the lookout for cars and other hazards, so it makes sense that I've got my eyes open. Open eyes this am revealed an ugly little poop-brown dog at the junction of an alley perp. to the street I was on. Approaching closer, I expected to see someone standing further down the alley - the ugly little dog's mommy or daddy. I saw neither. The ugly dog didn't look lost or scared or anything other than an unleashed dog out for a walk. "Where's yr ma?" I yelled to the dog as I passed. A block later I approached a young Asian lady in a robe and slippers. She was saying "EEE-NUFF !? !! ??" "EEENUFF!!" I got closer and found that she was in fact saying, "Pea-nut!! Pea-nut!" and looking around frantically.
I said, "You lookin' for a little brown dog?" She said yes.
"It's down the block past that chain-link and the alley," I said, and turned around to indicate further by pointing to where I saw the ugly little dog. She looked where I was pointing. "Down there?" she asked. "Yeah, right there ... wait ... there he is!" I said. The dog stepped out from behind the fence. "That ugly brown dog? Is that what you saw?" she asked, "that's not Peanut." I thought 1 lost dog +1 frantic owner equaled 1 happy reunion. Nope. All it equaled was another morning in the 'hood.
Tonight - Club Deluxe.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
By popular TNSC demand, it's the burlesque gals again tonight. $5 gets you in. More fun than you can shake a tassel at!!!
Show starts at 9pm. Get to the Haight early, dine, record shop, and get to the Deluxe.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, November 01, 2007
1990s
11.2.2k7
I've mentioned the skin-crawling voice of the Principal of the school across the street coming across the PA and sending chills through my body in this forum once or twice before. I heard him again this morning. It's garbled, and what he's saying is almost indecipherable, but any person ever having gone to elementary school would identify it immediately. It's the voice of ruthless authority. It's the voice of endless, soulless admonishments. It's the cruel voice of punishment.
The brute began again on the PA this morning but cut it short - his was replaced with a different voice: A voice of enthusiasm, of hard work and confidence. I turned off the NPR morning show playing on the radio and listened. I caught just a little bit of, "my name is Taylor Brittany Hannah Ashley Alyssa Kayla Brianna Montgomery, and I'm running for Class Vice-President. My goals for the Spring Semester include insuring adequate supplies of chocolate pudding in the cafeteria, longer recesses, renovated tether-ball courts and more field-trips." I had heard enough! I know now who has my vote come Election Day!!
Tonight - The Orbit Room.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
11.2.2k7
I've mentioned the skin-crawling voice of the Principal of the school across the street coming across the PA and sending chills through my body in this forum once or twice before. I heard him again this morning. It's garbled, and what he's saying is almost indecipherable, but any person ever having gone to elementary school would identify it immediately. It's the voice of ruthless authority. It's the voice of endless, soulless admonishments. It's the cruel voice of punishment.
The brute began again on the PA this morning but cut it short - his was replaced with a different voice: A voice of enthusiasm, of hard work and confidence. I turned off the NPR morning show playing on the radio and listened. I caught just a little bit of, "my name is Taylor Brittany Hannah Ashley Alyssa Kayla Brianna Montgomery, and I'm running for Class Vice-President. My goals for the Spring Semester include insuring adequate supplies of chocolate pudding in the cafeteria, longer recesses, renovated tether-ball courts and more field-trips." I had heard enough! I know now who has my vote come Election Day!!
Tonight - The Orbit Room.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, October 25, 2007
The 5 percent nation
10.4.2k7
My bike Chuck sure glows a neat shade of red in this smoke-filtered sunlight. Makes me think of old timey photos.
Tonight - Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
10.4.2k7
My bike Chuck sure glows a neat shade of red in this smoke-filtered sunlight. Makes me think of old timey photos.
Tonight - Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Gobi
10.3.2k7
The video store across the street from me is rather conveniently located but because I NetFlix and Home BO the movies I watch on the TV, I haven't needed to go in before now and that is only because I need to rent a particular kind of video.
Ya see, the store is painted all over with the store's name and its slogan: ALL RATINGS. Every window boasts ALL RATINGS, as does the street sign. I haven't been to a video store in a long time, but I do remember that the Documentary, Foreign and Travel sections - all genres not rated by the hideously fiendish and un-American MPAA - are usually poor. My local vid shop, with its signage, promises overflowing sections of these movies. To boot, the one plate-glass window not devoted to the store's ALL RATINGS mantra advertised a "free Paris video" with each rental. Great! My little wife has often mentioned how she had a fantastic time in France and that she'd love to go there with me sometime.
I'm going to get me a DIY video of a renter's guide to apartment repair. I'll get that and my free Paris video. I'll write a review of each when I get back from Frisco.
Tonight - The Irish Bank.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Bleu cheese fries. Guinness. Special guests. See you there!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
10.3.2k7
The video store across the street from me is rather conveniently located but because I NetFlix and Home BO the movies I watch on the TV, I haven't needed to go in before now and that is only because I need to rent a particular kind of video.
Ya see, the store is painted all over with the store's name and its slogan: ALL RATINGS. Every window boasts ALL RATINGS, as does the street sign. I haven't been to a video store in a long time, but I do remember that the Documentary, Foreign and Travel sections - all genres not rated by the hideously fiendish and un-American MPAA - are usually poor. My local vid shop, with its signage, promises overflowing sections of these movies. To boot, the one plate-glass window not devoted to the store's ALL RATINGS mantra advertised a "free Paris video" with each rental. Great! My little wife has often mentioned how she had a fantastic time in France and that she'd love to go there with me sometime.
I'm going to get me a DIY video of a renter's guide to apartment repair. I'll get that and my free Paris video. I'll write a review of each when I get back from Frisco.
Tonight - The Irish Bank.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Bleu cheese fries. Guinness. Special guests. See you there!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, October 11, 2007
National Shit on the Sidewalk Day
10.2.2k7
EVERY day.
Yep.
That's how it is living in Venice, CA.
But you can avoid all that by trekking down to a less feces-laden Haight Street right to the Club Deluxe.
By popular TNSC demand, it's the burlesque gals again tonight. Five bucks gets you in. More fun than you can shake a tassel at!!!
Show starts at 9pm. Get to the Haight early, dine, record shop, and get to the Deluxe.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
10.2.2k7
EVERY day.
Yep.
That's how it is living in Venice, CA.
But you can avoid all that by trekking down to a less feces-laden Haight Street right to the Club Deluxe.
By popular TNSC demand, it's the burlesque gals again tonight. Five bucks gets you in. More fun than you can shake a tassel at!!!
Show starts at 9pm. Get to the Haight early, dine, record shop, and get to the Deluxe.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, October 04, 2007
See the light?
10.1.2k7
I dunno what's with me going to street fairs. I dunno why I think the next one will be any different from the last one. It's all a bunch of junky primitive art to me ... that and the local realtors visibly shitting their pants and trying to sign up folks for harassment. Lots of weird people with tiny dogs, too. I've had it up to here with tiny dogs.
Last Sunday after another humiliating Bears defeat, my little wife and I quit arguing about how to get down to the Abbot Kinney Street Faire and began to walk. (I wanted to ride bikes. She said that was a stupid idea. It was.) Upon arrival I figured it would be a quick trip: The scene before us was an absolute throng of people and little dogs, all but obscuring the tents of driftwood picture frames, incense and sea glass earrings. Same junk, different street. We walked south toward Venice Blvd, said hello to a co-worker we chanced upon during the weave through the crowd. I proposed that we U-turn at Venice and come back the way we came. It was uneventful. We became bored - I could tell my little wife was bored as she started again on her latest scrapbooking project which has a working title of "Dieting in South Australia's North." I proposed that we veer off east and go get some chips and salsa at the little mercado on Rose Ave. She agreed.
A half-block before our side-street turn, we passed a small church. They had set up a tent and chairs and were working the walk-in crowd with some sermonizing. I passed just as the preacher man was full into it. I have been to Sunday Meetings before and this guy must have been as green as Kermit because his voice was shaky, his resolve was questionable and his sermon was not fluid. He made a desperate attempt to win the crowd back by proposing a question: "WHO is the LIGHT? WHAT is the NAME of PEACE?" He continued, "The NAME of PEACE is a MAN, ladies and gentlemen, and that MAN'S name is spelled J - U - S - ... er ... waitaminute ... J - E! - S - U - S."
I swear he did it. He turfed the spelling of the one name he should know how to spell. So funny.
Tonight - Hemlock Tavern.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
10.1.2k7
I dunno what's with me going to street fairs. I dunno why I think the next one will be any different from the last one. It's all a bunch of junky primitive art to me ... that and the local realtors visibly shitting their pants and trying to sign up folks for harassment. Lots of weird people with tiny dogs, too. I've had it up to here with tiny dogs.
Last Sunday after another humiliating Bears defeat, my little wife and I quit arguing about how to get down to the Abbot Kinney Street Faire and began to walk. (I wanted to ride bikes. She said that was a stupid idea. It was.) Upon arrival I figured it would be a quick trip: The scene before us was an absolute throng of people and little dogs, all but obscuring the tents of driftwood picture frames, incense and sea glass earrings. Same junk, different street. We walked south toward Venice Blvd, said hello to a co-worker we chanced upon during the weave through the crowd. I proposed that we U-turn at Venice and come back the way we came. It was uneventful. We became bored - I could tell my little wife was bored as she started again on her latest scrapbooking project which has a working title of "Dieting in South Australia's North." I proposed that we veer off east and go get some chips and salsa at the little mercado on Rose Ave. She agreed.
A half-block before our side-street turn, we passed a small church. They had set up a tent and chairs and were working the walk-in crowd with some sermonizing. I passed just as the preacher man was full into it. I have been to Sunday Meetings before and this guy must have been as green as Kermit because his voice was shaky, his resolve was questionable and his sermon was not fluid. He made a desperate attempt to win the crowd back by proposing a question: "WHO is the LIGHT? WHAT is the NAME of PEACE?" He continued, "The NAME of PEACE is a MAN, ladies and gentlemen, and that MAN'S name is spelled J - U - S - ... er ... waitaminute ... J - E! - S - U - S."
I swear he did it. He turfed the spelling of the one name he should know how to spell. So funny.
Tonight - Hemlock Tavern.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Monday, September 24, 2007
I hate Florida.
9.4.2k7
Waded into the express lane at the Ralph's yesterday w/ a cart full of junk. Didn't notice the sign until it was too late, then, when the cashier brought it to my attention, I didn't care.
Is that wrong?
Tonight - Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
9.4.2k7
Waded into the express lane at the Ralph's yesterday w/ a cart full of junk. Didn't notice the sign until it was too late, then, when the cashier brought it to my attention, I didn't care.
Is that wrong?
Tonight - Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, September 20, 2007
Too much choice.
9.3.2k7
I think we as a society have gotten carried away making rules about damn-near everything. There's a rule about where you can walk yr dog, when he has to be leashed; there's a rule for who can buy smokes and where you can smoke 'em; there's a rule that ya have to be this tall to ride this 'coaster. No parking. Tow away. No spitting. Be kind to our neighbors. Keep off the grass. Fok! What happened to freedom??? I seen this sign this morning on the entrance to the garage next to work:
My god. No standing on yr motorcycle in this garage. They're taking away our rights!!
Tonight - The Knockout SF.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Featured tonight at Knockout:
Bingo!
Hank Williams' birthday celebration
Karaoke w/ a live back-up band providing the Hank Williams soundtrack
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
9.3.2k7
I think we as a society have gotten carried away making rules about damn-near everything. There's a rule about where you can walk yr dog, when he has to be leashed; there's a rule for who can buy smokes and where you can smoke 'em; there's a rule that ya have to be this tall to ride this 'coaster. No parking. Tow away. No spitting. Be kind to our neighbors. Keep off the grass. Fok! What happened to freedom??? I seen this sign this morning on the entrance to the garage next to work:
My god. No standing on yr motorcycle in this garage. They're taking away our rights!!
Tonight - The Knockout SF.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Featured tonight at Knockout:
Bingo!
Hank Williams' birthday celebration
Karaoke w/ a live back-up band providing the Hank Williams soundtrack
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, September 13, 2007
30
9.2.2k7
I'd say that this is The Most Wonderful Time of the Year, as both the Chicago Cubs and the Chicago Bears - two of my favorite things - are in action at the same time. I'd say that, except that the Cubs are giving me heartburn and the Bears are giving me heartache. Cubs squeaking out wins by turning unbelieveable game-ending double plays as the tying run crosses the plate in the bottom of the ninth. Bears turning the ball over four times in a game and losing my favorite Bear to a season-ending injury at the same time. I swear ... why can't being a Cubs fan or a Bears fan EVER be easy???
Tonight - The El Rio.
Brazilian/Funk entertainment provided by Nobody from Ipanema. Come on out early to avoid the cover and get your ass-shakin' on!!
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
9.2.2k7
I'd say that this is The Most Wonderful Time of the Year, as both the Chicago Cubs and the Chicago Bears - two of my favorite things - are in action at the same time. I'd say that, except that the Cubs are giving me heartburn and the Bears are giving me heartache. Cubs squeaking out wins by turning unbelieveable game-ending double plays as the tying run crosses the plate in the bottom of the ninth. Bears turning the ball over four times in a game and losing my favorite Bear to a season-ending injury at the same time. I swear ... why can't being a Cubs fan or a Bears fan EVER be easy???
Tonight - The El Rio.
Brazilian/Funk entertainment provided by Nobody from Ipanema. Come on out early to avoid the cover and get your ass-shakin' on!!
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Portia
9.1.2k7
It came time to get some new furniture, I guess because of a cross between the cat having destroyed the couch and chair and my wife having it up to here with the TV stand being a wire Metro Rack™ on casters. We started by looking at catalogs. I liked an item but my wife hated it. We repeated this three-four times and I gave up. She continued to look at every catalog she could find. Didn't like anything. She looked online and didn't find anything. She went to showrooms, sometimes dragging me along, but couldn't find anything.
She was about to give up, and I suggested she take a break from her hunt and go camping with me. She agreed and we went. Our destination was up the coast to Big Sur, California. One stop along the way was San Simeon, home to the decadent Hearst Castle. If you don't know of it, it's newspaper tycoon Wm. Randolph Hearst's giant "fuck you" to poverty, taste, discretion, restraint and humility. It's an unbelievable fortress of plundered artifacts from Old Europe, the Middle East, the Far East and the former Spanish Empire. I had seen "Citizen Kane" and immediately recognized the Hearst Castle as Xanadu from that picture. Crazy. I hated the entire joint except for the gardens and the indoor pool. I did notice a gleam in my wife's eye that tells me she has an idea.
I was right. Before I knew it, my wife had researched the area church closings, attended the auctions and bought pews, tables, benches, wall coverings, stained-glass windows and such. She started buying items from synagog and mosques, too. And hell, I'm as secular as they get, but the collection she modestly assembled, seemed to work well. The cats liked them too.
Soon enough, though, the "new" furniture killed our social life, especially the myriad parties we throw. You see, unbeknown to us, most of our friends are Satanists, and one look at the religious icons and ceremonial furniture sent them packing, never to return. Bummer.
Tonight - Edinburgh Castle.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
9.1.2k7
It came time to get some new furniture, I guess because of a cross between the cat having destroyed the couch and chair and my wife having it up to here with the TV stand being a wire Metro Rack™ on casters. We started by looking at catalogs. I liked an item but my wife hated it. We repeated this three-four times and I gave up. She continued to look at every catalog she could find. Didn't like anything. She looked online and didn't find anything. She went to showrooms, sometimes dragging me along, but couldn't find anything.
She was about to give up, and I suggested she take a break from her hunt and go camping with me. She agreed and we went. Our destination was up the coast to Big Sur, California. One stop along the way was San Simeon, home to the decadent Hearst Castle. If you don't know of it, it's newspaper tycoon Wm. Randolph Hearst's giant "fuck you" to poverty, taste, discretion, restraint and humility. It's an unbelievable fortress of plundered artifacts from Old Europe, the Middle East, the Far East and the former Spanish Empire. I had seen "Citizen Kane" and immediately recognized the Hearst Castle as Xanadu from that picture. Crazy. I hated the entire joint except for the gardens and the indoor pool. I did notice a gleam in my wife's eye that tells me she has an idea.
I was right. Before I knew it, my wife had researched the area church closings, attended the auctions and bought pews, tables, benches, wall coverings, stained-glass windows and such. She started buying items from synagog and mosques, too. And hell, I'm as secular as they get, but the collection she modestly assembled, seemed to work well. The cats liked them too.
Soon enough, though, the "new" furniture killed our social life, especially the myriad parties we throw. You see, unbeknown to us, most of our friends are Satanists, and one look at the religious icons and ceremonial furniture sent them packing, never to return. Bummer.
Tonight - Edinburgh Castle.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Rufous
8.5.2k7
Guess what this is:
Yard boss 1
Concrete "fuck you."
Shop guy
White rocks
Yard boss 2
Prius 1 (no stickers)
Concrete goat
Yellow house
5TTN666
Danger 1
TWICE 1
Prius 2 (stickers)
Danger 2
Target below!
Bobcat warning!
Thomeless camp
Gate check
It's a list of shit I see every day on my ride to work!
I make lists of everything! I've got OCD! yay!
Tonight - Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
8.5.2k7
Guess what this is:
Yard boss 1
Concrete "fuck you."
Shop guy
White rocks
Yard boss 2
Prius 1 (no stickers)
Concrete goat
Yellow house
5TTN666
Danger 1
TWICE 1
Prius 2 (stickers)
Danger 2
Target below!
Bobcat warning!
Thomeless camp
Gate check
It's a list of shit I see every day on my ride to work!
I make lists of everything! I've got OCD! yay!
Tonight - Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, August 23, 2007
A dingo ate my dingle.
8.4.2k7
I was on a rocket-sled to Hell, as usual, and I figured enough was enough. I switched off the fuel pump, waited for the motor to conk out, deployed all four 'chutes and when the speed dipped just below mach 1 I hopped out, hit the ground running and almost stuck the landing. Alas, a skinned knee is better than the usual ass-over-tits roll through the gravel I usually manage.
I collected myself, straightened up, and started walking. In moments I met my pal. "Where you been," I asked. "I hopped out the 'sled just after you. Thanks for the heads-up, asshole," she said. I had forgotten that she was in the same boat I was and apologized profusely. She said, "anyways ... "
Tonight - Mission Bar.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
8.4.2k7
I was on a rocket-sled to Hell, as usual, and I figured enough was enough. I switched off the fuel pump, waited for the motor to conk out, deployed all four 'chutes and when the speed dipped just below mach 1 I hopped out, hit the ground running and almost stuck the landing. Alas, a skinned knee is better than the usual ass-over-tits roll through the gravel I usually manage.
I collected myself, straightened up, and started walking. In moments I met my pal. "Where you been," I asked. "I hopped out the 'sled just after you. Thanks for the heads-up, asshole," she said. I had forgotten that she was in the same boat I was and apologized profusely. She said, "anyways ... "
Tonight - Mission Bar.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Mojo Nixon
8.3.2k7
Manus manum lavat.
There's a streetfair here in HELL-A this weekend. It's in a district called Silverlake and the fair is called "Sunset Junction" as it's on Sunset Blvd. They have the regular street fair booths of art and foods, but this one has a "LA-hip" vibe rather than your usual macrame beavers and blown-glass sea horseys browsed to the live-act tunes of some folk band knockoff or Native American drum-and- ... er ... moan. SJ features ska and hiphop bands, alt-rock bands and hip DJs playing the soundtrack to your stroll through booths of doormats shaped like manhole covers, waterpipes, temp tattoos (of skulls and shit, you know?) and PBR caps. I ain't going this year but went last. Last year, The Cramps played one night and Eels and BRMC played the other. All three are great bands I like a lot. This year Blonde Redhead stands out but they're not "headlining." That duty goes to a band I fucking hate: She Wants Revenge. Namby Pamby sissy-pantsy bullshit.
Tonight - Knockout SF.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Elvis died 30 yrs ago. But he's still everywhere, eh?
BINGO night at Knockout.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
8.3.2k7
Manus manum lavat.
There's a streetfair here in HELL-A this weekend. It's in a district called Silverlake and the fair is called "Sunset Junction" as it's on Sunset Blvd. They have the regular street fair booths of art and foods, but this one has a "LA-hip" vibe rather than your usual macrame beavers and blown-glass sea horseys browsed to the live-act tunes of some folk band knockoff or Native American drum-and- ... er ... moan. SJ features ska and hiphop bands, alt-rock bands and hip DJs playing the soundtrack to your stroll through booths of doormats shaped like manhole covers, waterpipes, temp tattoos (of skulls and shit, you know?) and PBR caps. I ain't going this year but went last. Last year, The Cramps played one night and Eels and BRMC played the other. All three are great bands I like a lot. This year Blonde Redhead stands out but they're not "headlining." That duty goes to a band I fucking hate: She Wants Revenge. Namby Pamby sissy-pantsy bullshit.
Tonight - Knockout SF.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Elvis died 30 yrs ago. But he's still everywhere, eh?
BINGO night at Knockout.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, August 09, 2007
In Absentia
8.2.2k7
Sometimes I fall off the face of the earth.
But hey... how about those new iMacs?!?
Tonight - Club Deluxe.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
By popular TNSC demand, it's the burlesque gals again tonight. Five bucks gets you in. More fun than you can shake a tassel at!!!
Show starts at 9pm. Get to the Haight early, dine, record shop, and get to the Deluxe.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
8.2.2k7
Sometimes I fall off the face of the earth.
But hey... how about those new iMacs?!?
Tonight - Club Deluxe.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
By popular TNSC demand, it's the burlesque gals again tonight. Five bucks gets you in. More fun than you can shake a tassel at!!!
Show starts at 9pm. Get to the Haight early, dine, record shop, and get to the Deluxe.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Photo boof.
8.1.2k7
I don't have a lot to say today, but I have a fun post nevertheless. My home email address is very simple and Apple-based, as it is provided by my membership to their dot-mac service. What with the proliferation of Apple Stores around the country, and their internet-enabled "hands-on" demonstration computers laying around within, it wasn't a total surprise that when the camera-enabled computers came around that some snapshots got emailled to me from the store. Call it Spam if you like, but after a few came through I started to save and enjoy them. Here they are, for your amusement. Strangers w/ Apples. Mebbe it's a bug. Mebbe it's marketing. I don't care. I like the snaps.
Tonight - Tosca.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
8.1.2k7
I don't have a lot to say today, but I have a fun post nevertheless. My home email address is very simple and Apple-based, as it is provided by my membership to their dot-mac service. What with the proliferation of Apple Stores around the country, and their internet-enabled "hands-on" demonstration computers laying around within, it wasn't a total surprise that when the camera-enabled computers came around that some snapshots got emailled to me from the store. Call it Spam if you like, but after a few came through I started to save and enjoy them. Here they are, for your amusement. Strangers w/ Apples. Mebbe it's a bug. Mebbe it's marketing. I don't care. I like the snaps.
Tonight - Tosca.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Ass-neck
7.4.2k7
I attended a group lesson in not taking oneself seriously this past Monday night with a bowl-full of people ranging in age from very young to quite oldish-looking. I bought tickets for the Rush concert and went and got some great rock-and-roll in addition to the aforementioned lesson. This came about through the Mega-band's ability to do silly things, poke fun at themselves all the while rocking the Hollywood hills. They had videos in which they dressed up in silly costumes, spoke in silly accents and even woke up in bed together. But perhaps the best was the set dressing. There were three large orange cabinets behind the Geddy Lee that at my distance I mistook for Marshall stacks or somesuch. It was only when a gal came dancing onstage wearing an apron and began tending to the orange cabinets. I turned to my brother and asked him to look through the binocs and check out what she was doing. He did, turned to me and said, "she's taking chickens out of the ovens."
Three rotisserie chicken ovens onstage ... roasting chickens. Awesome.
Tonight - Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
7.4.2k7
I attended a group lesson in not taking oneself seriously this past Monday night with a bowl-full of people ranging in age from very young to quite oldish-looking. I bought tickets for the Rush concert and went and got some great rock-and-roll in addition to the aforementioned lesson. This came about through the Mega-band's ability to do silly things, poke fun at themselves all the while rocking the Hollywood hills. They had videos in which they dressed up in silly costumes, spoke in silly accents and even woke up in bed together. But perhaps the best was the set dressing. There were three large orange cabinets behind the Geddy Lee that at my distance I mistook for Marshall stacks or somesuch. It was only when a gal came dancing onstage wearing an apron and began tending to the orange cabinets. I turned to my brother and asked him to look through the binocs and check out what she was doing. He did, turned to me and said, "she's taking chickens out of the ovens."
Three rotisserie chicken ovens onstage ... roasting chickens. Awesome.
Tonight - Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, July 19, 2007
LOVE
7.3.2k7
It is indeed a summer laced with repeating past glories. I wrote about Phil and I repeating our 1988 drive across the desert to Phoenix. This day I will write briefly about another thing that will repeat: Witnessing live in concert Sonic Youth with guests Redd Kross! Another Phil (not the one I drove the desert with) and I saw these very same acts in 1990 in Chicago at the venerable Vic Theater. Wow. This time the show's at Hollywood's Greek Theater and Phil and I are joined by two other Phils ... neither being the Phil I drove the desert with. Get it? Fuck Barry and the giants ... the Cubbies sure did!
Tonight - The El Rio.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Party on the Patio!
J-Po's Birthday!
Cash only bar.... cover after 9pm... so get in early!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
7.3.2k7
It is indeed a summer laced with repeating past glories. I wrote about Phil and I repeating our 1988 drive across the desert to Phoenix. This day I will write briefly about another thing that will repeat: Witnessing live in concert Sonic Youth with guests Redd Kross! Another Phil (not the one I drove the desert with) and I saw these very same acts in 1990 in Chicago at the venerable Vic Theater. Wow. This time the show's at Hollywood's Greek Theater and Phil and I are joined by two other Phils ... neither being the Phil I drove the desert with. Get it? Fuck Barry and the giants ... the Cubbies sure did!
Tonight - The El Rio.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Party on the Patio!
J-Po's Birthday!
Cash only bar.... cover after 9pm... so get in early!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Blazing Saddles!
7.2.2k7
I'm finishing up a book that I have found utterly fascinating and while I don't make a habit out of reccomending books I'm compelled to do so in this case. It's called World War Z. In short, it's a collection of interviews with the survivors of a worldwide zombie pandemic. In this holocaust, many BILLIONS of people are killed, many by zombies and in turn reanimate to stalk the living themselves. Aside from my love of zombie movies, comics, stories, etc., this book's undead protagonist could very easily be replaced by a mutated avian flu outbreak or SARS or such. It explores the political, geographical, military, personal and many other points-of-view so deftly and maturely that it's easy to see the fictionalized could manifest into the real if such horrors came to be. I've dreamt of the situations described, and I think of them throughout the day. It's creepy as hell.
I've also been bringing the copies of my Wired Magazine subscription to work after I've read them and ditching them in the restrooms for folks to paw through while taking care of biz. Some asshole has taken the last five issues home with them. I'd love to publicly humiliate them.
Tonight - Club Deluxe.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
It's the burlesque gals again tonight. Five bucks gets you in.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
7.2.2k7
I'm finishing up a book that I have found utterly fascinating and while I don't make a habit out of reccomending books I'm compelled to do so in this case. It's called World War Z. In short, it's a collection of interviews with the survivors of a worldwide zombie pandemic. In this holocaust, many BILLIONS of people are killed, many by zombies and in turn reanimate to stalk the living themselves. Aside from my love of zombie movies, comics, stories, etc., this book's undead protagonist could very easily be replaced by a mutated avian flu outbreak or SARS or such. It explores the political, geographical, military, personal and many other points-of-view so deftly and maturely that it's easy to see the fictionalized could manifest into the real if such horrors came to be. I've dreamt of the situations described, and I think of them throughout the day. It's creepy as hell.
I've also been bringing the copies of my Wired Magazine subscription to work after I've read them and ditching them in the restrooms for folks to paw through while taking care of biz. Some asshole has taken the last five issues home with them. I'd love to publicly humiliate them.
Tonight - Club Deluxe.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
It's the burlesque gals again tonight. Five bucks gets you in.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, July 05, 2007
Hey Baby, it's the 5th of July!!
7.1.2k7
Happy Birthday to ME! Whatever happens... I apologize.
Tonight - Doc's Clock. Meet around 8pm. Once the posse is together and adequately satiated, they will wander over to a very special eating establishment to carry on celebrating my entry into this world.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
7.1.2k7
Happy Birthday to ME! Whatever happens... I apologize.
Tonight - Doc's Clock. Meet around 8pm. Once the posse is together and adequately satiated, they will wander over to a very special eating establishment to carry on celebrating my entry into this world.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, June 28, 2007
You'll never find another love like mine.
6.4.2k7
Since joining the gym I haven't been going home for lunch much. I pack a lunch and bring it in then use the lunch hour to move weights around and sustain 160+ BPM on the ol' heart at that freakshow called Gold's Gym (saw Hulkster again there yesterday.) Today, however, I used the hour to go home, clean up the apartment and pack a suitcase with t-shirts, adapter cables, battery chargers and my baseball glove, as my little wife and I are headed to my beloved hometown - Chicago - tomorrow evening. I've got some scary-good seats in "screamer foul ball" section at Wrigley on Sunday, hence the Rawlings™. Our host, and our other traveling companion, the lovely and talented Trixy Sutton, each requested an itinerary chronicling the week's highlights, such as what we're doing and where we're eating. To that end, I jotted down some notes and tried to make some sense out of them in order to submit the schedule. It got a bit interesting and confusing, with all these arrows going either which way on the flowchart it became, so I gave up and wrote these words and emailed them to the appropriate parties on my lunch hour: "We're going to eat like stoned college kids and drink like sailors on leave the entire time we're there, so why bother planning?" I can't wait!
Tonight - Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
6.4.2k7
Since joining the gym I haven't been going home for lunch much. I pack a lunch and bring it in then use the lunch hour to move weights around and sustain 160+ BPM on the ol' heart at that freakshow called Gold's Gym (saw Hulkster again there yesterday.) Today, however, I used the hour to go home, clean up the apartment and pack a suitcase with t-shirts, adapter cables, battery chargers and my baseball glove, as my little wife and I are headed to my beloved hometown - Chicago - tomorrow evening. I've got some scary-good seats in "screamer foul ball" section at Wrigley on Sunday, hence the Rawlings™. Our host, and our other traveling companion, the lovely and talented Trixy Sutton, each requested an itinerary chronicling the week's highlights, such as what we're doing and where we're eating. To that end, I jotted down some notes and tried to make some sense out of them in order to submit the schedule. It got a bit interesting and confusing, with all these arrows going either which way on the flowchart it became, so I gave up and wrote these words and emailed them to the appropriate parties on my lunch hour: "We're going to eat like stoned college kids and drink like sailors on leave the entire time we're there, so why bother planning?" I can't wait!
Tonight - Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Solstice
6.3.2k7
Longest day. Shortest post.
Tonight, a TNSC Solstice traditio since 1997!
The Orbit Room.
Have a looka!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
6.3.2k7
Longest day. Shortest post.
Tonight, a TNSC Solstice traditio since 1997!
The Orbit Room.
Have a looka!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Smoothy
6.2.2k7
Tomorrow one of the Phils and I embark on what will be our 3rd car trip from LA to Phoenix we've made in 19 years. We're going this year because it's supposed to be 110º in the shade for the first time all year and ya don't wanna miss that! Also, we hear that there's gonna be a keg of Miller Lite near the pool - also not to be missed.
Nineteen years ago we drove back and forth twice - both times to "work" at Phil's dad's wife's yogurt shop. It was really fun - we pulled levers on these giant machines that shat out creamy yogurt into paper cups, adorned them with sprinkles, chocky-chips or chopped pineapples and slung them over to snotty white people who chose to vacation on Balboa Island where the shop was located. It got so busy at times we didn't have time to register every transaction, and as we became very familiar with the cost of the various items and typical combinations of items, we often made change from our aprons and settled with the till later, when the action calmed down. SOMETIMES there was a little left over and we bought Vodka with it!!
Enjoy some of the delightful memories captured during these magic times:
Here's Phil and Robot smokin' cigs out front.
Here's a young Bob Log III and Ynnad Reklaw visiting from AZ.
Here's Phil. He's spilled his Vodka!
Here's Phil again. He's tired from all the vod- ... er ... "work."
Tonight - Club Deluxe.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Linkey-Loo! Robot reminds:
It's "Little Minskey's Burlesque" tonight at the Deeeee-Luxe!!! Cover charge - "slight!" Fun - more than likely! Pasties - most definitely!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
6.2.2k7
Tomorrow one of the Phils and I embark on what will be our 3rd car trip from LA to Phoenix we've made in 19 years. We're going this year because it's supposed to be 110º in the shade for the first time all year and ya don't wanna miss that! Also, we hear that there's gonna be a keg of Miller Lite near the pool - also not to be missed.
Nineteen years ago we drove back and forth twice - both times to "work" at Phil's dad's wife's yogurt shop. It was really fun - we pulled levers on these giant machines that shat out creamy yogurt into paper cups, adorned them with sprinkles, chocky-chips or chopped pineapples and slung them over to snotty white people who chose to vacation on Balboa Island where the shop was located. It got so busy at times we didn't have time to register every transaction, and as we became very familiar with the cost of the various items and typical combinations of items, we often made change from our aprons and settled with the till later, when the action calmed down. SOMETIMES there was a little left over and we bought Vodka with it!!
Enjoy some of the delightful memories captured during these magic times:
Here's Phil and Robot smokin' cigs out front.
Here's a young Bob Log III and Ynnad Reklaw visiting from AZ.
Here's Phil. He's spilled his Vodka!
Here's Phil again. He's tired from all the vod- ... er ... "work."
Tonight - Club Deluxe.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Linkey-Loo! Robot reminds:
It's "Little Minskey's Burlesque" tonight at the Deeeee-Luxe!!! Cover charge - "slight!" Fun - more than likely! Pasties - most definitely!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, June 07, 2007
Cupper cone?
6.1.2k7
So I heard on the radio that Frisco's city council has banned the plastic grocery bags from the city limits. I figure that, besides the issue of the SF government's priorities being so fuct and, well, typical, it's a good thing to ban the bags. They make quite a mess when they catch just a breath of wind and end up in a tree forever. Once, stepping out of Shanghai Kelly's on our way to chow down at Polkers, my brother and I spotted a pigeon flying (poorly) with a plastic grocery bag wrapped around a wing. Somehow this guy was able to get around with a deployed parachute dragging behind it. We chased the little fucker down and actually caught it, removed the bag, and let the flying rat go. I ain't no friend of pidgey-widgeys, but I don't like to see things in trouble. So yeah ... the bags are a blight.
Down here in LA, my little wife and I imposed our own ban on plastic grocery bags, opting for reusable canvas bags to haul grocerys from the Ralph's. Being renters and not being able to do really hardcore green things like installing solar panels or low wattage laundry equipment (we do have a clothesline (thank you Aunt Jenny)), we do little things like ride a bike to work and reuse canvas grocery bags. I didn't notice until last night, however, that old Ralph's actually gives me a "brought-his-own-bag" credit! Five cents! That's right, suckers, five goddang cents! At this rate, it'll be roughly 400 visits to the Ralph's before this bag has paid for itself. Hot damn!
Tonight - Lone Palm.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
6.1.2k7
So I heard on the radio that Frisco's city council has banned the plastic grocery bags from the city limits. I figure that, besides the issue of the SF government's priorities being so fuct and, well, typical, it's a good thing to ban the bags. They make quite a mess when they catch just a breath of wind and end up in a tree forever. Once, stepping out of Shanghai Kelly's on our way to chow down at Polkers, my brother and I spotted a pigeon flying (poorly) with a plastic grocery bag wrapped around a wing. Somehow this guy was able to get around with a deployed parachute dragging behind it. We chased the little fucker down and actually caught it, removed the bag, and let the flying rat go. I ain't no friend of pidgey-widgeys, but I don't like to see things in trouble. So yeah ... the bags are a blight.
Down here in LA, my little wife and I imposed our own ban on plastic grocery bags, opting for reusable canvas bags to haul grocerys from the Ralph's. Being renters and not being able to do really hardcore green things like installing solar panels or low wattage laundry equipment (we do have a clothesline (thank you Aunt Jenny)), we do little things like ride a bike to work and reuse canvas grocery bags. I didn't notice until last night, however, that old Ralph's actually gives me a "brought-his-own-bag" credit! Five cents! That's right, suckers, five goddang cents! At this rate, it'll be roughly 400 visits to the Ralph's before this bag has paid for itself. Hot damn!
Tonight - Lone Palm.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, May 31, 2007
"Crackin' Walnuts"
5.5.2k7
It's an old saying of long-time TNSC list member Bob "Bobo" Roesler. And it bears reapeating - especially in my case.
Since last week's "Last-Thursday-of-the-Month" destination got pulled up to the 4th Thursday of the month, tonight we're heading to an "old standby":
Bacchus Kirk.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
And watch out for these:
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
5.5.2k7
It's an old saying of long-time TNSC list member Bob "Bobo" Roesler. And it bears reapeating - especially in my case.
Since last week's "Last-Thursday-of-the-Month" destination got pulled up to the 4th Thursday of the month, tonight we're heading to an "old standby":
Bacchus Kirk.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
And watch out for these:
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Dinetine
5.4.2k7
I'm stuck. I want to buy a sandblaster and blast the shit off some things. I got one thing I really need to sandblast and a few others I'd like to sandblast and still a few more that would merely be fun to sandblast. The reason I'm stuck is that if I'm going to buy an air compressor, I'd like to find one that would do double-duty as a paint sprayer too. Triple-duty as a tire pump. Quad-duty as an airhose. I can't find one and I'm stuck. I'm doubly stuck b/c if I did find one and tried to buy it, my little wife would say, "nofuckingway."
Tonight - Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
5.4.2k7
I'm stuck. I want to buy a sandblaster and blast the shit off some things. I got one thing I really need to sandblast and a few others I'd like to sandblast and still a few more that would merely be fun to sandblast. The reason I'm stuck is that if I'm going to buy an air compressor, I'd like to find one that would do double-duty as a paint sprayer too. Triple-duty as a tire pump. Quad-duty as an airhose. I can't find one and I'm stuck. I'm doubly stuck b/c if I did find one and tried to buy it, my little wife would say, "nofuckingway."
Tonight - Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Channel 9
5.3.2k7
I went and got me a breakfast burrito this morning. Kinda feeling the 1x vodka rocks, 1x vodka martini, 1x gin martini and ?x Miller Lites from last night, so despite the giant load of grilled food I ate last night, breakfast burrito was necessary. I hate to say that there isn't a cheap breakfast burrito that I've found close by, so I shelled out eight bucks. I stood around waiting what I thought to be an extra-long time before the gal handed me the sack containing the breakfast burrito. I said thanks and she said ... wait for it ... "no worries."
I first heard that expression from an Aussie. That's kinda natural, as the expression originated there. They don't say, "you're welcome" when someone thanks you, no, them Aussies say, "no worries, mate." Fine. I like regional expressions as much as the next guy. I have come to hate "no worries" as a response to "thank you" when spoken by an non-Australian. Here's why: I'm not fucking worried. I'm thankful. You say "no worries" to my "thank you" and you ain't Aussie, I take back my "thank you" and add "kiss my ass." Where in fuck does "thank you" mean I'm worried? Stupid. I'm going to exploit the stupidity of it by bastardizing it and saying "no fears" when someone says "thank you" to me. Worries, fears ... kinda related. We'll see how this idiot maneuver flys. I'll let ya know.
Tonight - The Knockout SF
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Bingo tonight! $5 cover after 10pm... so get in there early.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
5.3.2k7
I went and got me a breakfast burrito this morning. Kinda feeling the 1x vodka rocks, 1x vodka martini, 1x gin martini and ?x Miller Lites from last night, so despite the giant load of grilled food I ate last night, breakfast burrito was necessary. I hate to say that there isn't a cheap breakfast burrito that I've found close by, so I shelled out eight bucks. I stood around waiting what I thought to be an extra-long time before the gal handed me the sack containing the breakfast burrito. I said thanks and she said ... wait for it ... "no worries."
I first heard that expression from an Aussie. That's kinda natural, as the expression originated there. They don't say, "you're welcome" when someone thanks you, no, them Aussies say, "no worries, mate." Fine. I like regional expressions as much as the next guy. I have come to hate "no worries" as a response to "thank you" when spoken by an non-Australian. Here's why: I'm not fucking worried. I'm thankful. You say "no worries" to my "thank you" and you ain't Aussie, I take back my "thank you" and add "kiss my ass." Where in fuck does "thank you" mean I'm worried? Stupid. I'm going to exploit the stupidity of it by bastardizing it and saying "no fears" when someone says "thank you" to me. Worries, fears ... kinda related. We'll see how this idiot maneuver flys. I'll let ya know.
Tonight - The Knockout SF
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Bingo tonight! $5 cover after 10pm... so get in there early.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, May 10, 2007
This smack on head.
5.2.2k7
I got a fascination for birds so I took to feedin' them by hanging feeders in the back yard. Now, a ton of them little kittens (my word for the birds) are swarming. I have a pet store down the road and they sell a 15 lb. bag of seed for five bucks. That's a good deal. For the hummerkittens, I make their food on my stove: .25 sugar per 1.00 water. That is a better deal.
It took a while for the seed feeder to get noticed by the birds. I had a suet feeder there before, but I never saw a single bird despite the suet cakes disappearing - somebody was eating it. My little wife said, "it's prolly a rat." I said no way. The thing would have to be a frikkin' acrobat to get to this feeder. After several cakes disappeared, and nary a kitten spied eating, I retired the cake feeder and got the seed feeder. Then the kittens came flyin'.
I ducked out to fetch a cold beer from the cooler that was out back one night and there's a-rustlin' going on at the seed feeder. There was a kitten getting a late night snack. By kitten, I mean Siberian Hamster. By Siberian Hamster, I mean RAT. As foul as a real live vector hanging from your seed feeder in yr backyard might sound, I had technically been feeding this guy for weeks. He looked, well, great. Clean, fuzzy and with a shiny, healthy coat, he was a poster rat for his species. I told my wife about the encounter and she said, "ha. I was right." Then I asked if she wanted to see it. She said no fucking way. Then I insisted and she came out to see him. She agreed that he was indeed a good-looking Siberian Hamster if there ever was one.
Tonight - Club Deluxe.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Don't miss the burlesque show at Deluxe tonight!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
5.2.2k7
I got a fascination for birds so I took to feedin' them by hanging feeders in the back yard. Now, a ton of them little kittens (my word for the birds) are swarming. I have a pet store down the road and they sell a 15 lb. bag of seed for five bucks. That's a good deal. For the hummerkittens, I make their food on my stove: .25 sugar per 1.00 water. That is a better deal.
It took a while for the seed feeder to get noticed by the birds. I had a suet feeder there before, but I never saw a single bird despite the suet cakes disappearing - somebody was eating it. My little wife said, "it's prolly a rat." I said no way. The thing would have to be a frikkin' acrobat to get to this feeder. After several cakes disappeared, and nary a kitten spied eating, I retired the cake feeder and got the seed feeder. Then the kittens came flyin'.
I ducked out to fetch a cold beer from the cooler that was out back one night and there's a-rustlin' going on at the seed feeder. There was a kitten getting a late night snack. By kitten, I mean Siberian Hamster. By Siberian Hamster, I mean RAT. As foul as a real live vector hanging from your seed feeder in yr backyard might sound, I had technically been feeding this guy for weeks. He looked, well, great. Clean, fuzzy and with a shiny, healthy coat, he was a poster rat for his species. I told my wife about the encounter and she said, "ha. I was right." Then I asked if she wanted to see it. She said no fucking way. Then I insisted and she came out to see him. She agreed that he was indeed a good-looking Siberian Hamster if there ever was one.
Tonight - Club Deluxe.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Don't miss the burlesque show at Deluxe tonight!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, May 03, 2007
millet
5.1.2k7
Finishing a frikkin' movie is not like finishing making shelves. When yr about done making some shelves to put yr flowerpots, clothespins, BBQ gear, car wax, bike wheels and the rest of the junk you've got sitting around in the small backyard you have, the activity does not get MORE frenetic. It doesn't get busier. You might check the tightness of the screws one last time or tilt the thing to check that it's level, but you don't run around making a bill of materials, buying wood, primer, paint, sealant and screws, measuring, sawing, sanding, priming, painting, assembling, levelling and installing the goddamn thing. You check your work, then put the various shit in yr backyard on it.
Finishing a goddamn movie? In many ways you start from scratch until the last minute. It's stupid.
Tonight - La Rocca's Corner Tavern.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
5.1.2k7
Finishing a frikkin' movie is not like finishing making shelves. When yr about done making some shelves to put yr flowerpots, clothespins, BBQ gear, car wax, bike wheels and the rest of the junk you've got sitting around in the small backyard you have, the activity does not get MORE frenetic. It doesn't get busier. You might check the tightness of the screws one last time or tilt the thing to check that it's level, but you don't run around making a bill of materials, buying wood, primer, paint, sealant and screws, measuring, sawing, sanding, priming, painting, assembling, levelling and installing the goddamn thing. You check your work, then put the various shit in yr backyard on it.
Finishing a goddamn movie? In many ways you start from scratch until the last minute. It's stupid.
Tonight - La Rocca's Corner Tavern.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Ursa Minor.
4.4.2k7
Everyone knows that I'm a big baseball fan, and I have an unflappable loyalty to my favorite team. Even when they're doing less than stellar. (at least they don't have the WORST record.
Even when they're made fun of in nationally syndicated comics.
But the best thing about your favorite team having a Thursday off... there's no way that they can lose.
Tonight. It's the last Thursday of the month, so that means - The Homestead.
Come on out and see "TNSC Boulder" representative John Stillman in all of his glory!
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
4.4.2k7
Everyone knows that I'm a big baseball fan, and I have an unflappable loyalty to my favorite team. Even when they're doing less than stellar. (at least they don't have the WORST record.
Even when they're made fun of in nationally syndicated comics.
But the best thing about your favorite team having a Thursday off... there's no way that they can lose.
Tonight. It's the last Thursday of the month, so that means - The Homestead.
Come on out and see "TNSC Boulder" representative John Stillman in all of his glory!
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Flying saucer tour.
4.3.2k7
What the FOK is up with the sudden popularity in cupcakes? I really can't begin to guess. Sure, they are delish, but $5 for a fuckin' cupcake with buttercream icing and sprinkles is a joke. And in the armpit of America where I live, LA, everyone from the spoiled-rotten brats and Porsche-driving, tit-job trophy wives and hip gangster wannabes that have "I'm the Coolest" tattooed to the chip on their shoulders queue down the block and around the corner for their turn to throw down five bucks per. I do not get it. Cupcakes. Cupcakes. People, please.
Tonight - House of Sheilds.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
4.3.2k7
What the FOK is up with the sudden popularity in cupcakes? I really can't begin to guess. Sure, they are delish, but $5 for a fuckin' cupcake with buttercream icing and sprinkles is a joke. And in the armpit of America where I live, LA, everyone from the spoiled-rotten brats and Porsche-driving, tit-job trophy wives and hip gangster wannabes that have "I'm the Coolest" tattooed to the chip on their shoulders queue down the block and around the corner for their turn to throw down five bucks per. I do not get it. Cupcakes. Cupcakes. People, please.
Tonight - House of Sheilds.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Imus
4.2.2k7
So I join the gym in Venice Beach USA and it turns out this is the place that bodybuilding became a ... ahem ... "sport." In no way am I there to build body ... I'm there to run some on the treadmill, run some on the elliptical machine, ride a bike for a five-mile sprint uphill or for 10 miles without stopping and to do enough weight work and stretching so that I'm not a total noodle man. I have to tell you that I've had several false-starts at gyms over the past few years, but for some known and some unknown reasons, this time seems to have stuck. I can address the known reasons, as the unknown are ... you guessed it ... unknown.
The birthplace of bodybuilding is a funny place to go. They're still doing it there - bodybuilding that is. You got the funny carnival strongman one-piece being sported by a huge bald guy with a handlebar moustache. The poster-boy strongman, yes indeed. There's one over there, another over there and four more throughout the place. I think it's hilarious. There's normal joes, like me. Not so funny, but kinda comforting, because in numbers, the skinny semi-in-shape folks aren't overrun by the guys that flex in the mirror, pausing only to talk to their biceps and sometimes kiss them. NO SHIT.
I'd say a lot of the big huge muscle-bound people are in some sort of trance to get big and stay big. Some might be pro or semi-pro athletes. Some that stretch themselves like pretzels are just showing off. Some might not be. More than half of the people draw attention to themselves by grunting, groaning, dancing around with barbells, shouting at the jerk they're spotting or some such related behavior.
I go anonymous by plugging into the iPod and whether it's on or off act like its on and don't respond to people that try to talk to me no matter what. I'm mostly not hassled by the cartoon characters or wannabe LA Clipper cheerleaders, but when they do open and move their mouths, I ignore. I don't even hear the front desk people say hello or goodbye. It's a strange hour of the day.
Hulk Hogan was there the other day. That was pretty cool.
Tonight - The Attic.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
4.2.2k7
So I join the gym in Venice Beach USA and it turns out this is the place that bodybuilding became a ... ahem ... "sport." In no way am I there to build body ... I'm there to run some on the treadmill, run some on the elliptical machine, ride a bike for a five-mile sprint uphill or for 10 miles without stopping and to do enough weight work and stretching so that I'm not a total noodle man. I have to tell you that I've had several false-starts at gyms over the past few years, but for some known and some unknown reasons, this time seems to have stuck. I can address the known reasons, as the unknown are ... you guessed it ... unknown.
The birthplace of bodybuilding is a funny place to go. They're still doing it there - bodybuilding that is. You got the funny carnival strongman one-piece being sported by a huge bald guy with a handlebar moustache. The poster-boy strongman, yes indeed. There's one over there, another over there and four more throughout the place. I think it's hilarious. There's normal joes, like me. Not so funny, but kinda comforting, because in numbers, the skinny semi-in-shape folks aren't overrun by the guys that flex in the mirror, pausing only to talk to their biceps and sometimes kiss them. NO SHIT.
I'd say a lot of the big huge muscle-bound people are in some sort of trance to get big and stay big. Some might be pro or semi-pro athletes. Some that stretch themselves like pretzels are just showing off. Some might not be. More than half of the people draw attention to themselves by grunting, groaning, dancing around with barbells, shouting at the jerk they're spotting or some such related behavior.
I go anonymous by plugging into the iPod and whether it's on or off act like its on and don't respond to people that try to talk to me no matter what. I'm mostly not hassled by the cartoon characters or wannabe LA Clipper cheerleaders, but when they do open and move their mouths, I ignore. I don't even hear the front desk people say hello or goodbye. It's a strange hour of the day.
Hulk Hogan was there the other day. That was pretty cool.
Tonight - The Attic.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, April 05, 2007
Vernon
4.1.2k7
I was riding my bike home the other night when I came across a couple teenage grrrrls throwing a pair of sneaks with the laces tied together up toward the telephone wire between two poles at an intersection. They had two or three shots at it as I approached, two getting close, but none staying up. I slowed. I said, "you know what that is supposed to mean, don't you?" They said no. They said it's supposed to look cool. I said, circling the intersection, "in some neighborhoods it means that there's a drug dealer nearby. It's a signal for people looking to score dope." They said they didn't know that. They were doing it for fun. I said, "now you know," and turned back toward home.
Mid-turn I noticed a guy on a motocross bike coming my way and I yielded for him. "Thanks," he said. I said, "sure." Then, "hey, you ride this street often?" He said yes, that he lived right up there, and pointed up there. I said, "how do you like the buttwipes that don't stop for the stop signs, you notice this street is pretty bad?" He said hell yes. He doesn't take the signs for granted that anyone will stop at them. I appreciated his attention and figured he's noticed what I noticed: That no one stops for the signs. I said, "good man. Gotta be careful around here." He said he always was. I said cheers and cranked home. The next second I heard a crash - not unlike a guy on a motocross guy wrecking. I looked back and indeed he had gone down. I turned around and rode up to him. A sixty-something black woman crossing the street toward him "Holy shit, dude, you okay?" He said yeah. "What happened," I asked. "I tried to bunny-hop the curb and I ate it. Damn." I asked him if he was really okay as he futzed with the chain on his bike. "Yeah, I am. Thanks for stopping." Then the black lady, who was passing, said, "there will come a time when you find yourself too old to try such things. They don't work out so well."
I stopped my bike and looked her square in the eyes. She stopped, turned toward me, put a fist on her hip and returned the look. I asked her, "what else we gotta stop doing when we get older?" She looked at me for a second, then said, gravely, "Honey, I tell you what all you gotta stop doin', you gonna be VERRRRY sad."
Tonight - The Orbit Room.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
4.1.2k7
I was riding my bike home the other night when I came across a couple teenage grrrrls throwing a pair of sneaks with the laces tied together up toward the telephone wire between two poles at an intersection. They had two or three shots at it as I approached, two getting close, but none staying up. I slowed. I said, "you know what that is supposed to mean, don't you?" They said no. They said it's supposed to look cool. I said, circling the intersection, "in some neighborhoods it means that there's a drug dealer nearby. It's a signal for people looking to score dope." They said they didn't know that. They were doing it for fun. I said, "now you know," and turned back toward home.
Mid-turn I noticed a guy on a motocross bike coming my way and I yielded for him. "Thanks," he said. I said, "sure." Then, "hey, you ride this street often?" He said yes, that he lived right up there, and pointed up there. I said, "how do you like the buttwipes that don't stop for the stop signs, you notice this street is pretty bad?" He said hell yes. He doesn't take the signs for granted that anyone will stop at them. I appreciated his attention and figured he's noticed what I noticed: That no one stops for the signs. I said, "good man. Gotta be careful around here." He said he always was. I said cheers and cranked home. The next second I heard a crash - not unlike a guy on a motocross guy wrecking. I looked back and indeed he had gone down. I turned around and rode up to him. A sixty-something black woman crossing the street toward him "Holy shit, dude, you okay?" He said yeah. "What happened," I asked. "I tried to bunny-hop the curb and I ate it. Damn." I asked him if he was really okay as he futzed with the chain on his bike. "Yeah, I am. Thanks for stopping." Then the black lady, who was passing, said, "there will come a time when you find yourself too old to try such things. They don't work out so well."
I stopped my bike and looked her square in the eyes. She stopped, turned toward me, put a fist on her hip and returned the look. I asked her, "what else we gotta stop doing when we get older?" She looked at me for a second, then said, gravely, "Honey, I tell you what all you gotta stop doin', you gonna be VERRRRY sad."
Tonight - The Orbit Room.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Table
3.5.2k7
Last weekend was the annual Cubs Spring Training weekend and for kicks I asked my wife to stare at my ass during the game and if anyone asks what she's doing she says, "I'm staring at my husband's hot ass." This is funny perhaps only to me, because my ass is not hot or sexy or anything. And it's funny because it is so stupid. I think stupid things are funny.
It doesn't go so well. She goes ahead and stares at my ass as a cat stares at bug before pouncing. No one asks her what she's doing. Dutifully, she tries again and again, but still no one asks. When I notice she hasn't taken her position in a while, she shrugs and exaggeratedly stares. Alan asks me if I sat in something. No, I tell him. The game ends and no one asked.
So the fun ends when we go on the 8th beerrun of the afternoon and thomeless guy out front of the Circle K asks my wife for some change. "I'm staring at my husband's hot ass," she says. Thomeless didn't know how to take that.
Tonight - The Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Robot has updated the blog'd archives. Check 'em out if yr bored. Clik on the month/year below ...
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
3.5.2k7
Last weekend was the annual Cubs Spring Training weekend and for kicks I asked my wife to stare at my ass during the game and if anyone asks what she's doing she says, "I'm staring at my husband's hot ass." This is funny perhaps only to me, because my ass is not hot or sexy or anything. And it's funny because it is so stupid. I think stupid things are funny.
It doesn't go so well. She goes ahead and stares at my ass as a cat stares at bug before pouncing. No one asks her what she's doing. Dutifully, she tries again and again, but still no one asks. When I notice she hasn't taken her position in a while, she shrugs and exaggeratedly stares. Alan asks me if I sat in something. No, I tell him. The game ends and no one asked.
So the fun ends when we go on the 8th beerrun of the afternoon and thomeless guy out front of the Circle K asks my wife for some change. "I'm staring at my husband's hot ass," she says. Thomeless didn't know how to take that.
Tonight - The Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Robot has updated the blog'd archives. Check 'em out if yr bored. Clik on the month/year below ...
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Fitchy
3.4.2k7
Some time ago I subscribed to the Word-of-the-day RSS feed from dictionary.com. It started with a clunk, as the words were criminally easy (bucolic, sycophant, conflagration, malapropism), but soon coughed up some of interest (appurtenance, empyrean, coterminous). I set to using each in a sentence, speaking the sentence to no one but myself. I amuse myself like this.
For yuks, I subscribed to another RSS feed from dictionary.com, the Spanish-word-of-the-day, thinking that my miniscule Spanish lexicon could use some new words. Think again! The words on that feed were unbelieveably easy - even for gringos. Lunes (Monday). Gato (Cat). Ahora (Now). And the killer Spanish-word-of-the-day: DOS. Two. That was the word of the day. For real. I fired the stupid feed.
Tonight - The Knockout SF.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Bingo tonight, yo. I'll be winging it to the desert for some Little Bears games. Go Cubs!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
3.4.2k7
Some time ago I subscribed to the Word-of-the-day RSS feed from dictionary.com. It started with a clunk, as the words were criminally easy (bucolic, sycophant, conflagration, malapropism), but soon coughed up some of interest (appurtenance, empyrean, coterminous). I set to using each in a sentence, speaking the sentence to no one but myself. I amuse myself like this.
For yuks, I subscribed to another RSS feed from dictionary.com, the Spanish-word-of-the-day, thinking that my miniscule Spanish lexicon could use some new words. Think again! The words on that feed were unbelieveably easy - even for gringos. Lunes (Monday). Gato (Cat). Ahora (Now). And the killer Spanish-word-of-the-day: DOS. Two. That was the word of the day. For real. I fired the stupid feed.
Tonight - The Knockout SF.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Bingo tonight, yo. I'll be winging it to the desert for some Little Bears games. Go Cubs!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Starter
3.3.2k7
So a former neighbor of mine sees fit to keep me on her list of folks she forwards oddball emails to. She's not exactly flooding my inbox, but I get a fair amount over the weeks. She sends the routine stuff: Why men suck; the joke about two NY taxi drivers trying to get into heaven; the news report of the ironic fire at the goat farm; and of course, the photo of the kitten asleep on the keyboard.
There's a whole list of folks in the "To:" field. She either doesn't know about the "BCC" field or doesn't care to use it for discretionary purposes. My bet, knowing my former neighbor, is the latter.
Ever so rarely, I will respond to her emails, and rarer still, to the entire list. I responded to the picture of the kitty to the entire recipient list (Reply All!) with the old favorite, "nice pussy." From this I learned several things.
Even a casual reference to my neighbor's nether regions - even as a play on words - is enough to evoke a mental image of said regions. That is not a nice mental image. Believe me.
It is really fun to Reply All with a crude joke to a bunch of strangers and watch the outraged emails pour in. I hate people with no sense of humor.
Homeland Security is CC'd every time something is Reply All'd. I know this because they told me. They told me by burning a nasty message to knock it off or else on my slice of sourdough toast this morning.
Tonight - Specs'.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
3.3.2k7
So a former neighbor of mine sees fit to keep me on her list of folks she forwards oddball emails to. She's not exactly flooding my inbox, but I get a fair amount over the weeks. She sends the routine stuff: Why men suck; the joke about two NY taxi drivers trying to get into heaven; the news report of the ironic fire at the goat farm; and of course, the photo of the kitten asleep on the keyboard.
There's a whole list of folks in the "To:" field. She either doesn't know about the "BCC" field or doesn't care to use it for discretionary purposes. My bet, knowing my former neighbor, is the latter.
Ever so rarely, I will respond to her emails, and rarer still, to the entire list. I responded to the picture of the kitty to the entire recipient list (Reply All!) with the old favorite, "nice pussy." From this I learned several things.
Even a casual reference to my neighbor's nether regions - even as a play on words - is enough to evoke a mental image of said regions. That is not a nice mental image. Believe me.
It is really fun to Reply All with a crude joke to a bunch of strangers and watch the outraged emails pour in. I hate people with no sense of humor.
Homeland Security is CC'd every time something is Reply All'd. I know this because they told me. They told me by burning a nasty message to knock it off or else on my slice of sourdough toast this morning.
Tonight - Specs'.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Michael Pare
3.2.2k7
Nearly got hit by a car this morning, thanks to the phenomenon known as the "Chicago" or "California" stop: "slowing down significantly but not stopping completely at the sign."
I have a really easy, flat, one-point-one-mile bike commute through residential streets and I've taken the time to determine the path that has the fewest cross streets and where the intersections are not all four-way stops. I've had enough experience riding a bike on city streets (San Francisco and Chicago) to know that a bike rider's got to be careful no matter if he or she has the right-of-way, as a sign won't stop a car no matter what. This being said, I approach the intersections with care.
This morning the silver SUV gets to the intersection and pulls a California stop - VERY typical in this neighborhood. Hell, I even do it when I'm driving. Usually the driver will pull this and check cross traffic, only fully stopping if someone is going through, a kid is crossing on his way to school, a bunch of ducks and ducklings are in the way, or the FedEx truck is stopped in front of them. Or, often, if they see me on my shiny red bike. Silver SUV pumps the brake then hits the gas. I brake hard and dodge. The gal driving sees me only then and hits her brake so hard her sunglasses fly from her face and onto the dash. I yell something or other about something or other and continue. Didn't need much coffee after that one, I tell ya.
I don't even think the gal was drinking. Be careful out there, yo.
Tonight - Club Deluxe.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Burlesque night, yo.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
3.2.2k7
Nearly got hit by a car this morning, thanks to the phenomenon known as the "Chicago" or "California" stop: "slowing down significantly but not stopping completely at the sign."
I have a really easy, flat, one-point-one-mile bike commute through residential streets and I've taken the time to determine the path that has the fewest cross streets and where the intersections are not all four-way stops. I've had enough experience riding a bike on city streets (San Francisco and Chicago) to know that a bike rider's got to be careful no matter if he or she has the right-of-way, as a sign won't stop a car no matter what. This being said, I approach the intersections with care.
This morning the silver SUV gets to the intersection and pulls a California stop - VERY typical in this neighborhood. Hell, I even do it when I'm driving. Usually the driver will pull this and check cross traffic, only fully stopping if someone is going through, a kid is crossing on his way to school, a bunch of ducks and ducklings are in the way, or the FedEx truck is stopped in front of them. Or, often, if they see me on my shiny red bike. Silver SUV pumps the brake then hits the gas. I brake hard and dodge. The gal driving sees me only then and hits her brake so hard her sunglasses fly from her face and onto the dash. I yell something or other about something or other and continue. Didn't need much coffee after that one, I tell ya.
I don't even think the gal was drinking. Be careful out there, yo.
Tonight - Club Deluxe.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Burlesque night, yo.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Mongols and Angels
3.1.2k7
All things considered, long drives are not all that bad. Things can happen to make them bad, mind you, and those things don't have to be blown tires, running outta gas and multi-vehicle pile-ups - the obvious things that make drives bad. No, other things can foul a road trip.
For example, the Quicky Mart in the middle of nowhere has some halfassed facsimile of a SlimJim for sale rather than the real McCoy. I hate imposter SlimJims! Also: People who don't know how to drive on a highway will make it bad. These dopes camp out in the passing lane making everyone who needs to pass THEM pass on the right. That's never a good idea. Closely related are the fucking IDIOTS that either don't have or don't use their cruise control and do not maintain a steady speed. The guy will pull close and pass you, only to then slow and need to be passed himself. Then he wakes up and hits the gas. Back and forth over forty miles gets ya down.
The Nice Dualie game will make a long drive fun. As will an iPod adapter, a Thermos of coffee, a blanket for the missus and several of the aforementioned authentic SlimJims. A friendly guy behind the counter at the remote Quicky Mart is a treat too (most them folks are ornery).
I came across a friendly counterman just this past weekend at the Essex Oasis in the Mohave Desert 'round Laughlin way. There's a sign on his counter that says, "Pls do not complain to the staff about the price of the fuel! It's expensive to operate this shithole way out here, dig?" I had noticed that gas was nearly four bucks a gallon, but as I was getting kinda itchy about the needle's position on my gas guage, I didn't give a shit. I said, "ya get a lot of these California shitheads moanin' about the prices, eh?" He said, "you wouldn't believe. It costs us more to get it trucked here. We ain't robbin' anyone, we just gotta make our operating costs." I told him I get it, then I pointed out a fact: "Seems that all the rest of yr prices are pretty normal. Look here, SlimJims are 99 cents. Cokes are 75. Them buns or whatever in the case are probably two for a buck, huh?" He said, "They're THREE for a buck. heh. For you and yr lovely lady, though, I'll give ya FOUR for a buck." "Sold," I said, "and a handful of these SlimJims and a couple of Cokes."
The buns gave me gas.
Tonight - Brunos.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Entertainment tonight by Bud E. Luv hisownself: Plaids and stripes ... gotta keep 'em separated!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
3.1.2k7
All things considered, long drives are not all that bad. Things can happen to make them bad, mind you, and those things don't have to be blown tires, running outta gas and multi-vehicle pile-ups - the obvious things that make drives bad. No, other things can foul a road trip.
For example, the Quicky Mart in the middle of nowhere has some halfassed facsimile of a SlimJim for sale rather than the real McCoy. I hate imposter SlimJims! Also: People who don't know how to drive on a highway will make it bad. These dopes camp out in the passing lane making everyone who needs to pass THEM pass on the right. That's never a good idea. Closely related are the fucking IDIOTS that either don't have or don't use their cruise control and do not maintain a steady speed. The guy will pull close and pass you, only to then slow and need to be passed himself. Then he wakes up and hits the gas. Back and forth over forty miles gets ya down.
The Nice Dualie game will make a long drive fun. As will an iPod adapter, a Thermos of coffee, a blanket for the missus and several of the aforementioned authentic SlimJims. A friendly guy behind the counter at the remote Quicky Mart is a treat too (most them folks are ornery).
I came across a friendly counterman just this past weekend at the Essex Oasis in the Mohave Desert 'round Laughlin way. There's a sign on his counter that says, "Pls do not complain to the staff about the price of the fuel! It's expensive to operate this shithole way out here, dig?" I had noticed that gas was nearly four bucks a gallon, but as I was getting kinda itchy about the needle's position on my gas guage, I didn't give a shit. I said, "ya get a lot of these California shitheads moanin' about the prices, eh?" He said, "you wouldn't believe. It costs us more to get it trucked here. We ain't robbin' anyone, we just gotta make our operating costs." I told him I get it, then I pointed out a fact: "Seems that all the rest of yr prices are pretty normal. Look here, SlimJims are 99 cents. Cokes are 75. Them buns or whatever in the case are probably two for a buck, huh?" He said, "They're THREE for a buck. heh. For you and yr lovely lady, though, I'll give ya FOUR for a buck." "Sold," I said, "and a handful of these SlimJims and a couple of Cokes."
The buns gave me gas.
Tonight - Brunos.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Entertainment tonight by Bud E. Luv hisownself: Plaids and stripes ... gotta keep 'em separated!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Bog Green
2.4.2k7
Much as I try to recycle, conserve energy, bike commute and hope for a greener future, I'm starting to hate hybrid cars and the motherfuckers driving them.
You know well that the things are wildly popular. Some say that it's because they conceptually get a few more MPGs than yr average Miata. (Which is questionable when the driver hammers down, thus using the gasoline engine all the while AC on full. Some saving there. What? Are there filters on the tailpipe?) I believe that the jerkoff hybrid driver cares fuck-all about being green and cares only about the stupid rule that hybrid vehicles get access to the High Occupancy Vehicle lanes. What pollutes more: Four solo passenger Priuses or a Ford Exploder carpooling four office nerds? I don't have the stats to back up my guess that the hybrids will come out on top. Plus, ya got four Prius that could wreck and close a freeway, opposed to the one 'sploder. Fast fwd and try to figure out what's gonna happen when theres millions of hybrids on the road. The H/HOV lanes will look like normal lanes. I can HEAR the early adopters crying when they get booted. "We were here first! The new gen hybrids should go, etc. etc."
This ain't really why I hate Insights, Priuses and the rest. The real reason is that I can't fucking hear them sneak up behind me in the Ralph's parking lot. Goddang electric motor is so quiet I don't know they're back there until the motherfucker is nipping the heels of my Chucks. They should put a bell on them.
Tonight - The Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
2.4.2k7
Much as I try to recycle, conserve energy, bike commute and hope for a greener future, I'm starting to hate hybrid cars and the motherfuckers driving them.
You know well that the things are wildly popular. Some say that it's because they conceptually get a few more MPGs than yr average Miata. (Which is questionable when the driver hammers down, thus using the gasoline engine all the while AC on full. Some saving there. What? Are there filters on the tailpipe?) I believe that the jerkoff hybrid driver cares fuck-all about being green and cares only about the stupid rule that hybrid vehicles get access to the High Occupancy Vehicle lanes. What pollutes more: Four solo passenger Priuses or a Ford Exploder carpooling four office nerds? I don't have the stats to back up my guess that the hybrids will come out on top. Plus, ya got four Prius that could wreck and close a freeway, opposed to the one 'sploder. Fast fwd and try to figure out what's gonna happen when theres millions of hybrids on the road. The H/HOV lanes will look like normal lanes. I can HEAR the early adopters crying when they get booted. "We were here first! The new gen hybrids should go, etc. etc."
This ain't really why I hate Insights, Priuses and the rest. The real reason is that I can't fucking hear them sneak up behind me in the Ralph's parking lot. Goddang electric motor is so quiet I don't know they're back there until the motherfucker is nipping the heels of my Chucks. They should put a bell on them.
Tonight - The Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, February 15, 2007
I said, NEVER
2.3.2k7
Sticky, icky, black tar. That's what is commonly thought to be contained in the La Brea tar pits. (Spanish for "tar" happens to be "brea." Sooo ... saying, "the La Brea tar pits" is like saying "the the tar tar pits." YAY!) In fact, the "tar" is actually oil. It's just sticky and icky and black like tar so they called it tar. Whatevs.
My little wife and I went to the museo at the the tar tar pits and it was fascinating. Learned about the saber-toothed cats (NOT TIGERS, yo) and that there were lions once in America. And camels, if you can believe it. American camels. No lie.
These tidbits of info came from the docent tour-guide, a short, stocky, fiftyish man w/ a fu manchu. He was very personable and encouraged the crowd to guess the answers to questions he would pose. e.g., "Only about one species within one million species has left a fossil for us to find. That means millions upon millions of species have disappeared without a trace! What must one DO to become a fossil in the first place?" The people in the smallish crowd looked back blankly. "Die," I said to the crowd, and the guide said, "Exactly!" I'd answered his question while suggesting an activity for the people in the tour. "What else?" asked the guide. Again nothing from the groop. "Remain undisturbed," I suggested. The guide gave me a wink, a wink that meant: You and me, brother, we work together or this will be a long day. I motioned to my little wife. He looked at her and said, wordlessly, "okay, she's in too." I nodded, "Agreed." It went on for a while.
Turns out that he didn't need me the whole time: A couple of little kids that at first appeared cute but rapidly became annoying took the majority of the next questions. I really dig fossils and geology and, well, science, so I asked the guide a few questions of my own. This inspired a few others to ask questions, mostly ones that he'd previously answered, which the might have noticed if they had been paying attention. One man asked a question that I'll never forget.
We had just left the mastodon skeleton and came to the mammoth's. It was easily three times bigger than the mastodon and the guide said it was a JUNIOR mammoth. Holy shit, indeed. Aptly named, this beast.
Closely related as species, it's not only the mammoth's size that differentiates the two: Their tusks serve different purposes. The mastodon's tusks were straight and were likely used to bend back tree limbs, dig into rotten logs and earth to search for grubs, and other such practical uses. The mammoth's, on the other hand were curved in incredible arcs, resembling a pretzel in their curviness. Scholars think that the mammoth's tusks were likely cosmetic and ornamental. A big twisty show to attract a mate. This nugget - a mammoth attracting a mate - inspired the father of one of the little brats to cough up the question that will remain with me forever:
"How did those mammoths make love?"
I swear that I heard a grown man say that. Those exact words. I'm one to anthromorphize everything from a toaster to a vine, but never have I had the illusion that animals "make love." I saw the guide blanch and decided I didn't want to hear his answer or the idiot-man's likely follow-up: Where did they go to the bathroom?
Tonight - The Lone Palm.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
2.3.2k7
Sticky, icky, black tar. That's what is commonly thought to be contained in the La Brea tar pits. (Spanish for "tar" happens to be "brea." Sooo ... saying, "the La Brea tar pits" is like saying "the the tar tar pits." YAY!) In fact, the "tar" is actually oil. It's just sticky and icky and black like tar so they called it tar. Whatevs.
My little wife and I went to the museo at the the tar tar pits and it was fascinating. Learned about the saber-toothed cats (NOT TIGERS, yo) and that there were lions once in America. And camels, if you can believe it. American camels. No lie.
These tidbits of info came from the docent tour-guide, a short, stocky, fiftyish man w/ a fu manchu. He was very personable and encouraged the crowd to guess the answers to questions he would pose. e.g., "Only about one species within one million species has left a fossil for us to find. That means millions upon millions of species have disappeared without a trace! What must one DO to become a fossil in the first place?" The people in the smallish crowd looked back blankly. "Die," I said to the crowd, and the guide said, "Exactly!" I'd answered his question while suggesting an activity for the people in the tour. "What else?" asked the guide. Again nothing from the groop. "Remain undisturbed," I suggested. The guide gave me a wink, a wink that meant: You and me, brother, we work together or this will be a long day. I motioned to my little wife. He looked at her and said, wordlessly, "okay, she's in too." I nodded, "Agreed." It went on for a while.
Turns out that he didn't need me the whole time: A couple of little kids that at first appeared cute but rapidly became annoying took the majority of the next questions. I really dig fossils and geology and, well, science, so I asked the guide a few questions of my own. This inspired a few others to ask questions, mostly ones that he'd previously answered, which the might have noticed if they had been paying attention. One man asked a question that I'll never forget.
We had just left the mastodon skeleton and came to the mammoth's. It was easily three times bigger than the mastodon and the guide said it was a JUNIOR mammoth. Holy shit, indeed. Aptly named, this beast.
Closely related as species, it's not only the mammoth's size that differentiates the two: Their tusks serve different purposes. The mastodon's tusks were straight and were likely used to bend back tree limbs, dig into rotten logs and earth to search for grubs, and other such practical uses. The mammoth's, on the other hand were curved in incredible arcs, resembling a pretzel in their curviness. Scholars think that the mammoth's tusks were likely cosmetic and ornamental. A big twisty show to attract a mate. This nugget - a mammoth attracting a mate - inspired the father of one of the little brats to cough up the question that will remain with me forever:
"How did those mammoths make love?"
I swear that I heard a grown man say that. Those exact words. I'm one to anthromorphize everything from a toaster to a vine, but never have I had the illusion that animals "make love." I saw the guide blanch and decided I didn't want to hear his answer or the idiot-man's likely follow-up: Where did they go to the bathroom?
Tonight - The Lone Palm.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Dixon Landing Road, Pt. 1
2.2.2k7
I'm in awe of and disgusted by a guy who prowls the bullshit email groop at the joint I work. In this context, I mean "awe" not as a good thing.
An example of this use of "awe" would be, "I'm in awe of the terrible play of da Bears in the game." Or, "I'm in awe of how bad I smell." Or, "I'm in awe of the giant pile of dogshit I nearly stepped in." I use the word "disgusted" in its primary definition.
The guy deserves my rancor. He's the type of guy you all know - the know-it-all jerk - and you yourownself hate. Global Warming? ("So-called" as he says.) He's an expert. Hubble's gyros? He's an expert. Math? Expert. Physics? Expert. Language? Expert. Language translation? Expert. Biodiesel? Expert. Best Cuban restaurant in LA? Expert. Visual effects? Expert. Mac OSX? Expert. The list goes on and on and on. Here's an example of his bullshit. Transcript from a thread on the forum. His is last. If you do not bow your head in disgust, you are better than me.
OMFG. You can't possibly answer the question, can you? You have to impress us w/ yr vast knowledge of Greek language and history. Fok. Can the gal get five bucks off a spinning class for fuck's sake?
Tonight - Zeitgeist.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Longtime Lovely List Member John Alonzo Stillman and his lovely family are pulling up stakes for the apeeeeen-air of Colorado next week and wanna say Adios to Frisco and the TNSC. So come out and kiss hands and shake the baby. I know I would.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
2.2.2k7
I'm in awe of and disgusted by a guy who prowls the bullshit email groop at the joint I work. In this context, I mean "awe" not as a good thing.
An example of this use of "awe" would be, "I'm in awe of the terrible play of da Bears in the game." Or, "I'm in awe of how bad I smell." Or, "I'm in awe of the giant pile of dogshit I nearly stepped in." I use the word "disgusted" in its primary definition.
The guy deserves my rancor. He's the type of guy you all know - the know-it-all jerk - and you yourownself hate. Global Warming? ("So-called" as he says.) He's an expert. Hubble's gyros? He's an expert. Math? Expert. Physics? Expert. Language? Expert. Language translation? Expert. Biodiesel? Expert. Best Cuban restaurant in LA? Expert. Visual effects? Expert. Mac OSX? Expert. The list goes on and on and on. Here's an example of his bullshit. Transcript from a thread on the forum. His is last. If you do not bow your head in disgust, you are better than me.
- gold's gym discount? as employees are we eligible for gold's gym discounts or anything like that?
- They do offer some discount. Not sure what it is
- This has made my lunch turn. "For those who want to be really buff, a Dutch gym is introducing training sessions for nudists."
- The root of the word "gymnasium" is the Greek word "gymnos" which means naked, so technically they're upholding the old tradition. Of course, there's probably a big difference between ancient Greek athletes and pasty, hirsute Dutch naturists.
OMFG. You can't possibly answer the question, can you? You have to impress us w/ yr vast knowledge of Greek language and history. Fok. Can the gal get five bucks off a spinning class for fuck's sake?
Tonight - Zeitgeist.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Longtime Lovely List Member John Alonzo Stillman and his lovely family are pulling up stakes for the apeeeeen-air of Colorado next week and wanna say Adios to Frisco and the TNSC. So come out and kiss hands and shake the baby. I know I would.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, February 01, 2007
I winney, I wonder, I wanda ...
2.1.2k7
I never knew I was a superstitious fucking idiot. Seems I am. I'm discovering this via the Bears' run to the Championship. I helped the Bears win the Divisional Playoff game against Lee Lee the Musical Bee's Seattle seachickens by standing in a two-by-two square of kitchen floor that had sunshine beaming on it. I did not leave the square of light and the kick was good! I noticed that I wore an old Bears Tshirt to bed the night before, so I wore the same Tshirt for the NFC Championship against the Ain'ts and we won that one. I also had a bloodymary with a spicey bean garnish for the Divisional playoff so I did it for the NFC Championship. I didn't have the square of sunshine but that's okey since I was watching the game at home this week instead at a Bears fan friend of mine. SHE was in Vegas watching the game. I was in the comfort of my own home. My square of sunshine this time was to pick up my cat Porkchop when we were in the scoring zone (Red Zone.) Each time I picked her up, we scored. It worked.
SO ... for the Bears game this week (some call it superbowl), I've devised a long list of superstitious nonsense for me to do to ensure victory over the colds:
Wear old Tshirt to bed night before.
Do not trim fangernails as they weren't trimmed for the prev. games and we won.
Watch SuperBowl Shuffle on YouTube at every convenient time.
Hold breath and stand on one leg.
Eat something Chicago-y every day.
Have bloodys w/ spicey beans on gameday.
Devise clever Bears-related treats to bring to party.
Swap out BadBoysBailBonds security card lanyard for Bears lanyard.
Spell and pronounce opponant's team name wrong purposefully.
See relevance of attending Helmet concert same day fiberglass Bears HELMETs are placed on the Art Institute lions.
Declare amnesty for all bandwagon Bearsfans.
...
The list goes on. I'm sure you care.
Tonight - The Knockout.
Bingo starts at 7:30.
SPECIAL LIVE PERFORMANCES BY
THUNDER THIGHS
BIKE FIGHT
AND KILLERDREAMER
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik! Go Bears!
2.1.2k7
I never knew I was a superstitious fucking idiot. Seems I am. I'm discovering this via the Bears' run to the Championship. I helped the Bears win the Divisional Playoff game against Lee Lee the Musical Bee's Seattle seachickens by standing in a two-by-two square of kitchen floor that had sunshine beaming on it. I did not leave the square of light and the kick was good! I noticed that I wore an old Bears Tshirt to bed the night before, so I wore the same Tshirt for the NFC Championship against the Ain'ts and we won that one. I also had a bloodymary with a spicey bean garnish for the Divisional playoff so I did it for the NFC Championship. I didn't have the square of sunshine but that's okey since I was watching the game at home this week instead at a Bears fan friend of mine. SHE was in Vegas watching the game. I was in the comfort of my own home. My square of sunshine this time was to pick up my cat Porkchop when we were in the scoring zone (Red Zone.) Each time I picked her up, we scored. It worked.
SO ... for the Bears game this week (some call it superbowl), I've devised a long list of superstitious nonsense for me to do to ensure victory over the colds:
Wear old Tshirt to bed night before.
Do not trim fangernails as they weren't trimmed for the prev. games and we won.
Watch SuperBowl Shuffle on YouTube at every convenient time.
Hold breath and stand on one leg.
Eat something Chicago-y every day.
Have bloodys w/ spicey beans on gameday.
Devise clever Bears-related treats to bring to party.
Swap out BadBoysBailBonds security card lanyard for Bears lanyard.
Spell and pronounce opponant's team name wrong purposefully.
See relevance of attending Helmet concert same day fiberglass Bears HELMETs are placed on the Art Institute lions.
Declare amnesty for all bandwagon Bearsfans.
...
The list goes on. I'm sure you care.
Tonight - The Knockout.
Bingo starts at 7:30.
SPECIAL LIVE PERFORMANCES BY
THUNDER THIGHS
BIKE FIGHT
AND KILLERDREAMER
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik! Go Bears!
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Faithful goat.
1.4.2k7
Hello teenage America.
Anyone sick? Seems everyone around me at work is getting the flu and I ain't happy about that cuz them viruses can migrate. My normal anti-viral defense of boozin' it up is takin' a breather (went a bit too far last Sunday when Da Bears won the NFC Championship game). So what's a guy to do to keep the yeasty-beasties at bay? Drink coffee! That's right, my folk-medicine approach to stayin' healthy is drowning the bugs in hot coffee. Heat kills. Acid kills. So ya had too much and yr jittery? Ride a bike! So ya had too much and you get the runs? There go them baddies out the tailpipe! I tell ya, I've been drinking loads of coffee and so far, so good. If yr a puss like me and don't like shots (unless the nurse is a hottie), fuel up and top off with Juan Valdez's favorite treat: COFFEE
Tonight - The Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
1.4.2k7
Hello teenage America.
Anyone sick? Seems everyone around me at work is getting the flu and I ain't happy about that cuz them viruses can migrate. My normal anti-viral defense of boozin' it up is takin' a breather (went a bit too far last Sunday when Da Bears won the NFC Championship game). So what's a guy to do to keep the yeasty-beasties at bay? Drink coffee! That's right, my folk-medicine approach to stayin' healthy is drowning the bugs in hot coffee. Heat kills. Acid kills. So ya had too much and yr jittery? Ride a bike! So ya had too much and you get the runs? There go them baddies out the tailpipe! I tell ya, I've been drinking loads of coffee and so far, so good. If yr a puss like me and don't like shots (unless the nurse is a hottie), fuel up and top off with Juan Valdez's favorite treat: COFFEE
Tonight - The Homestead.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Patrick wah!
1.3.2k6
In LA, if you're not on the phone, you must have left your phone at home. Mebbe dropped it in the pool when you were helping Brittany out of it and it's water-logged. Perhaps on your weekend in Vegas it was chewed by Sigfried's giant white goat. Mebbe it was confiscated by TSA. Low bat? Dead bat? SOMETHING is wrong with it, it is lost or stolen or left at home. If none-of-the-above: You're talking on it.
If you're driving, you're on the phone.
If you're parking, you're on the phone.
If you're executing a three-point-turn on Main St., you're on the phone.
If you're washing your car, you're on it.
If you're shopping for a car, test-driving a car, totalling a car, detailing a car, installing a car stereo in a car, stealing a car stereo from a car - you're on the phone.
If you're walking a dog, you're on the phone.
If you're walking twenty dogs, you're on the phone.
If you're skateboarding, windboarding, rollerskating, inline skating, biking or jogging, you're on the phone.
If you're carrying a TV, you're on the phone.
If you're shopping, dining or picking up take-out, you're on the phone.
I promise you ... if you are in LA and if your phone is charged and on your person, you are talking on it. No shit.
Tonight - Annie's Social Club.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Ya should have gotten the announcement earlier this week regarding the fantastic event tonight.
Here's a repost of Linkey Loo's email (Damn I wish I could go):
In an effort to combat this week's extremely chilly weather, TNSC is will be heating things up
at this Thursday's meeting with the help of "Bombshell Betty" and her gang of friends. Our
old friend Annie, from "Annie's Social Club" (I think she owes us kickback for co-opting our
club name) is presenting a Pajama Party, complete with music courtesy of "Lucifer's Old-
Timey Strip Club Band".
I'm giving you guys warning as there is a sliding-scale cover charge ($8-$12). I have no idea on what the scale is calibrated by, but every cent ensures a good time will be had by all.
Hopefully see you guys this Thursday, January 18th at:
Annie's Social Club
917 Folsom St. (x 5th)
Doors at 8pm. Show at 9pm.
**Pajamas and lingerie encouraged. (Betty said that, not me)
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
1.3.2k6
In LA, if you're not on the phone, you must have left your phone at home. Mebbe dropped it in the pool when you were helping Brittany out of it and it's water-logged. Perhaps on your weekend in Vegas it was chewed by Sigfried's giant white goat. Mebbe it was confiscated by TSA. Low bat? Dead bat? SOMETHING is wrong with it, it is lost or stolen or left at home. If none-of-the-above: You're talking on it.
If you're driving, you're on the phone.
If you're parking, you're on the phone.
If you're executing a three-point-turn on Main St., you're on the phone.
If you're washing your car, you're on it.
If you're shopping for a car, test-driving a car, totalling a car, detailing a car, installing a car stereo in a car, stealing a car stereo from a car - you're on the phone.
If you're walking a dog, you're on the phone.
If you're walking twenty dogs, you're on the phone.
If you're skateboarding, windboarding, rollerskating, inline skating, biking or jogging, you're on the phone.
If you're carrying a TV, you're on the phone.
If you're shopping, dining or picking up take-out, you're on the phone.
I promise you ... if you are in LA and if your phone is charged and on your person, you are talking on it. No shit.
Tonight - Annie's Social Club.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Ya should have gotten the announcement earlier this week regarding the fantastic event tonight.
Here's a repost of Linkey Loo's email (Damn I wish I could go):
In an effort to combat this week's extremely chilly weather, TNSC is will be heating things up
at this Thursday's meeting with the help of "Bombshell Betty" and her gang of friends. Our
old friend Annie, from "Annie's Social Club" (I think she owes us kickback for co-opting our
club name) is presenting a Pajama Party, complete with music courtesy of "Lucifer's Old-
Timey Strip Club Band".
I'm giving you guys warning as there is a sliding-scale cover charge ($8-$12). I have no idea on what the scale is calibrated by, but every cent ensures a good time will be had by all.
Hopefully see you guys this Thursday, January 18th at:
Annie's Social Club
917 Folsom St. (x 5th)
Doors at 8pm. Show at 9pm.
**Pajamas and lingerie encouraged. (Betty said that, not me)
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, January 11, 2007
STD GRY
1.2.2k7
Some of the things I do bother those around me. Ask my little wife. She has the dubious honor of being subjected to both my relentless teasing and silliness, but also my annoying habits, behavior and mannerisms. She's a brave trooper.
Some of the things I do even bother me! I have to admit that my pea-brain comes up with some really irritating things. For example, since moving to LA, I've taken to noting which celebrity nearly ran me over on the street, and what kind of car they were driving at the time. Don't believe me? Here's my list just from this young year of 2007.
Connie Chung in a grey Prius.
Anton Levay in a tan Volvo.
Connie Chung in a white Tundra.
Magic Johnson in a blue Beetle.
Carl Reiner in a black Merc.
Bill Cosby in a brown Scion.
That grrrl from LOST in a white BMW.
Connie Chung in a panel van.
Chris Rock in a greenish Saturn.
George Clinton on a Harley.
One would think that Connie Chung and I are neighbors. Think again: My only neighbor is a half-naked 2yr old who crayolas my front door and scares my cats.
Tonight - Club Deluxe.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
"Sparkly Devil" is a new performer tonight, apparently.
Show starts at 10:00, but get there early for warm-up cocktails and a good seat!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
1.2.2k7
Some of the things I do bother those around me. Ask my little wife. She has the dubious honor of being subjected to both my relentless teasing and silliness, but also my annoying habits, behavior and mannerisms. She's a brave trooper.
Some of the things I do even bother me! I have to admit that my pea-brain comes up with some really irritating things. For example, since moving to LA, I've taken to noting which celebrity nearly ran me over on the street, and what kind of car they were driving at the time. Don't believe me? Here's my list just from this young year of 2007.
Connie Chung in a grey Prius.
Anton Levay in a tan Volvo.
Connie Chung in a white Tundra.
Magic Johnson in a blue Beetle.
Carl Reiner in a black Merc.
Bill Cosby in a brown Scion.
That grrrl from LOST in a white BMW.
Connie Chung in a panel van.
Chris Rock in a greenish Saturn.
George Clinton on a Harley.
One would think that Connie Chung and I are neighbors. Think again: My only neighbor is a half-naked 2yr old who crayolas my front door and scares my cats.
Tonight - Club Deluxe.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
"Sparkly Devil" is a new performer tonight, apparently.
Show starts at 10:00, but get there early for warm-up cocktails and a good seat!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, January 04, 2007
Arse in all.
1.1.2k7
First thing I did this New Year is got drunk. Second thing is I got my blast on. Them two kinda sound like the same thing but in this tale they ain't: I boozed up and shot guns.
Some might not think these the wisest pals to pair up. Hotdogs and mustard, yes. Miller Lites and pistols, no. Bowling and beers, hell yes. Rifles and Coors, er ... no. But damn it all, I did it anyway and actually hit something ... twice.
The best part of the whole experience is that the truck I rode around in that day was one of the strangest, best, most unbelieveable things I have ever seen. On the outside it looked like a normal working pickup completely covered in mud and with its bed full of tools and beercans. On the inside was something out of Snake Pliskin's SUV: floor-to-ceiling guns and ammo. I mean it, I've been in gun stores before but I ain't ever seen this much ordinance. Rifles, shotguns and pistols were everywhere. On the rack, on the floor below the rack, on the seat, on the dash, beneath the seat, beneath the dash, in the glove box, crammed in next to the shifter! Then ther e was the ammo: There were full and half-full boxes of bigfuckin' high caliber rifle shells, slugs, shotgun shells of varying guages and thousands upon thousands of loose bullets and brass. Little, big, pointy, hollow-pointy ... it was awesome. They were everywhere.
The fucking STELLAR dude who owned the truck was drunk, sharpening his chainsaw and listening to AC/DC when we pulled up. My hero.
Tonight - 500 Club.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Happy New Year to y'all if ya believe that shit. Oh, and remember, 500 Club is cash-money only.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
1.1.2k7
First thing I did this New Year is got drunk. Second thing is I got my blast on. Them two kinda sound like the same thing but in this tale they ain't: I boozed up and shot guns.
Some might not think these the wisest pals to pair up. Hotdogs and mustard, yes. Miller Lites and pistols, no. Bowling and beers, hell yes. Rifles and Coors, er ... no. But damn it all, I did it anyway and actually hit something ... twice.
The best part of the whole experience is that the truck I rode around in that day was one of the strangest, best, most unbelieveable things I have ever seen. On the outside it looked like a normal working pickup completely covered in mud and with its bed full of tools and beercans. On the inside was something out of Snake Pliskin's SUV: floor-to-ceiling guns and ammo. I mean it, I've been in gun stores before but I ain't ever seen this much ordinance. Rifles, shotguns and pistols were everywhere. On the rack, on the floor below the rack, on the seat, on the dash, beneath the seat, beneath the dash, in the glove box, crammed in next to the shifter! Then ther e was the ammo: There were full and half-full boxes of bigfuckin' high caliber rifle shells, slugs, shotgun shells of varying guages and thousands upon thousands of loose bullets and brass. Little, big, pointy, hollow-pointy ... it was awesome. They were everywhere.
The fucking STELLAR dude who owned the truck was drunk, sharpening his chainsaw and listening to AC/DC when we pulled up. My hero.
Tonight - 500 Club.
Here's tonight's: Find the Reference!
Happy New Year to y'all if ya believe that shit. Oh, and remember, 500 Club is cash-money only.
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
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