Coach

6.4.2k8

One meeelion years ago I was in a darkened room, lit only by a dozen CRT monitors. Only sounds were the clickity-clack of the keyboards, the tick-ticks of the mice, the cruel jokes about Greg's mom and the Dean-o drifting out of the yonder Tiki Suite. Then the phone rang. It was Tha Coach.

"I'm dropped off the thing at the place. Now I'm heading back but stopping at the joint. I'm bringing back yum-yums. Ask who wants one," she said.

"Coach is stopping by and picking up yum-yums for us. Who wants one?"

Two or three Freshys said yes.

"Three Freshys and me," I said to Coach.

"Copy that," she said, "four-plus-one yum-yums to go. How are we on Duck Sauce?"

"Duck sauce?" I said.

"That awesome hotsauce with the duck on it," she said.

"Anna," I said, "It's a rooster."

"Who cares," she said, "how much we got?"

"Plenty."

"Awesome. Inbound in twenty."

"Out."

We were on the phone. Fun to talk on phone like it's a walkie. Go!

Tonight - Homestead.



bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!

Oscar Mayer

3.6.2k8

I'm not even a fan of the NBA anymore, and I shouldn't care, but this Lakers victory celebration seemed to me a joke on a colossal scale. First, I didn't hear a car horn, a yelp from a fan, a bottle rocket's report, a .38's report, a house party's eruption into elation upon their NBA Championship ... nothing. I heard not a thing from my apartment in Venice. Yeah, sure, they "really tore it up downtown," but having lived in a city when its team won the NBA Championship, ya don't need to be downtown or close to the stadium to celebrate. I was 15-20 miles north of Chicago Stadium when da Bulls won one of their championship series and we tore it up. We drank beers, banged pots and pans together, detonated M-80s and menaced a stalled cop car. It was great. It was city-wide.

Second, I've always hated the Lakers, even when I liked the NBA.

Now, I watch to tsk the obvious cheating in NBA games. I watch to ... er ... I don't watch NBA games anymore. It's too stupid. It's also stupid that I can hear the drum circle from the beach that's over a mile away but couldn't hear one little hint that the local team just brought home the cup. I think its stupid, but don't mistake that for caring.

Tonight - Edinburgh Castle.

bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!

Colony Crime

6.2.2k9

My cheap-ass, no-good, Dixon Landing Road of a landlord nuked my beehive and all my bees are poisoned and dying. Motherfucker.

Tonight - House of Sheilds.

ooh ... Founding Members! ohhh ... Birthdays! ohhhh ... PBR!

bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!

Bad Brains

6.1.2k9

I was recently commissioned to make a list of things I hate. That got me thinking about hate, because my first thought was, "easy! I hate a ton of things!!" Green Bay Packers. Hate them!! ... or ... do I? I hate losing to them, I hate when they succeed in my division (NFC North), but do I hate them? I strongly dislike them, but I don't think I hate them. I'll never, EVER root for them, but I don't think I hate them. If other things that "I fuckin' HATE" also ended up instead as "strong dislikes," this gig would be harder than I thought.

Then? A Cubs bullpen meltdown. Hate that. THEN! Chipper Jones game-winning RBI! Aaugh! Hate that!

I started to roll with it. I hate traffic. I hate warm beer. I hate republicans. I hate thieves. I really hate liars! Yes ... the Packers might be spared of my hateful wrath, but there's a lot to hate.

I think it boils down to: I hate things that suck.

Tonight - The Tunnel Top.

Nothin' but love for the Tunnel Top. Hi Bobek!!

bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!