Mexicali Beer Run

3.5.2016

I was chatting with a work pal about the breadcrumbs in the shared butter tub.  I found her buttering toast as I had a half-hour before and asked her if she dodged the already-there crumbs as I just done.  She said she was dodging them, and while we agreed that it was kinda rude to leave a bunch of bread crumbs in the butter tub, it wasn't that big of a deal.  It wasn't that icky.  It was just toast.

She's a clever gal and she said that her next emo band's name was going to be "Bread Crumbs in the Butter Tub."  I thought that was a great name and I told her the name of my future punk band (which you've heard before):  "The Mexicali Beer Run Teens." 

I asked her if she had ever done a teenage beer run and she hadn't.  I told her the story of my most memorable one.

Sherri, Veronica and Rebecca and I were out late one Arizona night some time in the late 80s.  Why it was just the four of us and not the two dozen or so of our other pals I don't know, but we were having a great time going from office park to office park and swimming in their courtyard fountains.  (It wasn't really swimming per se, rather, "splashing about like idiots.")  It was spontaneous fountain-hopping that night, and none of the gals or I had swim trunks, but no matter.  I had shorts that did the trick and they had bras under their T shirts. 

Some time later, one of us suggested a beer run.  In these days of yore, a beer run meant walking into a mini-mart, grabbing a 12-pack or two and running out as fast as one could.  Three soaking wet teenage girls in bras and shorts - one behind the wheel - and I pulled in to a Circle K parking lot.  Sherri and Veronica got out and went in.  Rebecca pointed the car toward the exit and was jittery and ready to go.  Sherri and Veronica calmly walked out of the mart with two or three 12 packs in hand and Rebecca hardly waited for them to get in before she gunned the motor and blew wheels out of there.  Sherri and Veronica (Veronica being partially dragged before getting all the way in) were yelling, "He let us!  He let us!  Don't worry!"  But Rebecca didn't clearly hear it until we were a few blocks away. 

When Rebecca calmed down and said, "What did you say?"  Sherri said, "we walked in and the geek behind the counter stared at us.  Two soaking wet teenage girls with only bras on.  We sorted him out and said, 'We're taking this beer,' and he said, 'uh, oh-okay' and gaped."  We just took it and walked!"

We weren't in Mexicali, but we were beer run teens, for sure.


Tonight - The Homestead


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Raglan to Riches

3.4.2016

This is a transcriptio  of an actual conversatio :

Stooge: Hi TNSC Robot! Thank you for chatting with Pussy OctoPussy T shirt Pussy. I'm quickly reviewing the survey you've filled out to see what I can personally help you with today.
Stooge: Thanks for waiting, TNSC Robot!
Stooge: I'm happy to assist you with your order.
Stooge: Let me take a look here...
TNSC Robot: okay
Stooge: Looks like the questions we had were for the back design. When it was purchased online, the design on back was set to print in 4 colors but there are actually more colors. To print in full color as you see now, the new total would be $592.75 leaving a difference of $34.75. Would you want to print in full color for an additional $34.75? I could charge it to the same card if so. Otherwise we could have our artists redraw the back image in 4 colors for you at no extra cost. You would get final proofs to approve before we print your order.
TNSC Robot: Nah, charge it. The artwork is already custom.
Stooge: Ok will do! The other issue that came up is that the CL on back appears to refer to MLB's Cactus League. Do to the context of the text in this design, we'd need their permission to print the design. Or we could remove the CL or maybe have our artists replace it with something more personalized to your group. I'm sorry about that, but would one of those options work perhaps?
TNSC Robot: It doesn't mean anything but Chicken Laughing.
TNSC Robot: Chicken Laughing Seals Talking
TNSC Robot: That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Stooge: Oh nice haha! OK cool I think it was the cactuses and baseball bats that made us think it was MLB related.
TNSC Robot: They don't own the alphabet.
TNSC Robot: They don't own CL.
TNSC Robot: Coors has a better chance at owning CL.
TNSC Robot: Ya know?
Stooge: Well I will pass that along for you and if we still have concerns we will contact you with other options to proceed. I definitely understand where you're coming from, seems pretty general to me. However I'm not the expert on this stuff so I'll send it back for review.
Stooge: Thanks for contacting us TNSC Robot! Is there anything else I can help you with today?
TNSC Robot: Nope. I sure hope this works.
Stooge: Ok me too! Have fun at Spring Training by the way! My parents are going too, I'm pretty jealous.
Stooge: Thanks again!
TNSC Robot: You mean Seals Talking.
TNSC Robot: Right?
Stooge: Yeah sure! Exactly.

Tonight - The Wooden Nickel (by request)


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Phoenix, AZ (REDUX)

 3.2.2016  (first published this week 2002)


ISP stories.

I got a letter the other day from Goober and Grape Bankruptcy Services. I normally shred junkmail without a second thought, but I was curious as to what all this bankruptcy was about. It seems that the bigshot ISP 1st World dot com, which acquired my old internet service provider, Sirius dot com, filed for chapter 11 and is going down. Or has gone down. I’ll tell you this, people: The fact that that company is belly-up comes as no surprise to this former customer. Sirius dot com’s service was a steamin’ pile and it only got worse when the big boy gobbled it up. It became a GIANT steamin’ pile with peanuts. Their ho-hum technical support, various service outages and assorted billing fiascos prompted the move to host my own site. That brings us to the recent events.

I’ve seen TV commercials for the telecom giant that acquired my current ISP. The spots go like this: A chic-looking lady walks into a bookstore somewhere in the Nevada desert and asks for an obscure book on philosophy. The scruffy-lookin’, MadMax-esque shopkeeper doesn’t miss a beat and asks what dialect she wants the text in. Dumbfounded she asks how it’s possible for this itty-bitty shop in the middle of nowhere has “every work ever published by anyone anywhere anytime.” Then the VO says’ “You want yer company to have this kinda bandwidth?” That’s about the time that I start puking. That’s a pretty tall claim? Isn’t it? They have another spot where a smartass guy is asking his Bates Motel clerk for a rare movie and the smarter-ass Norman Bates asks if he wants the TV edit or the director’s cut or the Soviet Government’s censored version. Again, Norm has every version of every movie ever bla bla bla. Picture me spewing forth beef-like chunks about now.

This makes me sick because it just ain’t possible. How they can advertise services that just ain’t possible is a mystery to me. Remember that one where a dude forgets his speech and his secretary across the country reads it to him as he’s at the podium? The secretary is in full-color 30fps video? On a plam pilot? BULLSHIT! How are they allowed to make these claims? With the disclaimer: All this shit you just seen ain’t really available now but we anticipate it will be some time in the future with the way our tech is kicking ass. Ugh. Chevy starts advertising flying cars and I’m burning down my TV.

Back to the subject: My ISP. If you guessed that one of the companies that makes those grandiose claims just merged with my ISP, resulting in much confusion, lost data and inaccessible accounts in recent weeks, you’re right. It makes me wonder how they think they’ll be able to serve up “any movie ever produced” if they can’t move its users’ data around without major problems. The real kick in the nuts is that I’m paying for all this “service.”

Tonight: Dogpatch Saloon.

News: Yeh, well the TNSC site is running on upgraded hardware, software and service. You can tell right away, can’t ya? Being offline for a week kinda tells you something, right? Aw, hell. Another note: Founding members are wondering why only male list members are choosing to go to meetings lately. Aside from Smith, Kay, Alaina and (nameless) no women have been attending lately. What gives? Better offers?

Tonight’s Singled-Out List Members: (your name here)
Porn Title of the Week: Mechanic on Booty (Thanks T!)

See you there! bye-ee!

And Then? (REDUX)

3.2.2016 (first published this week 2005)

Everyone says how much they hate Southwest Airlines: The long lines; the cattle-call free-for-all for seats; the unwashed masses. These are but a few of the things that make people hate it. I got no problem with SWA. They have planes that can go nonstop from the West Coast to Chicago. If ya book early enough, the flight is dirt cheap. The free flights come quickly, and they give you free drink tickets with every free flight. What's not to like.

People still say they hate it, though. I guess they hate it but fly it anyway, because for my annual trip to Spring Training baseball in Arizona I had to fly America West Airlines cuz all the cheap seats on SWA were gone and I was not gonna pay $1000 to fry OAK to PHX.

Oh and Am. West was SUCH a step up. Wow. It had, um ... unbelievable advantages over SW. Uh ... oh yeh! They had seat assignments! I got 12C (aisle) and my wife got 12B (middle). Fantastic! Only thing is we had different boarding grooooops. Stupid! And they boarded folks from all over the plane at the same time. Not first seats first, last last, last first, or whatever. Nope. I mean jeez. They might well have had Southwest's so-called "open seating."

And the class of people were such a welcome change from the mangy fucks from the budget airline. Some of these people had t-shirts without big johnson's or Cabo Wabo logos on them. Upper-upper crust, I'm tellin' ya. And the kicker - the thing that smacked me and said, "this here's some sophisticated folks," is the comments made by a beautiful couple of people making their way to row 16 or something. Passing me while looking for bin space for their luggage, the lady turned to the man trailing her and said, "Wow. Somebody actually put a BACKPACK in the overhead bin." To which the man said, "Huh. Sure looks that way."

I put the fucking backpack up there. I didn't see the sign that said, NO BACKPACKS. HERMES, COACH OR BETTER LUGGAGE ONLY. I suggested aloud to the people that they might charter their next flight so as not to be burdened with people putting backpacks in the place to put backpacks. The man opened his mouth to say something and I vomited on him. I excused myself and said I have a condition called Tarmac Airsickness and offered him my handkerchief. He declined.


OH! And the beers cost five bucks! SWA's beers are only four!


Tonight - House of Shields
  

bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Ghost in the Machine (REDUX)

3.1.2016 (this very important Club document was first posted this week, 2001.  That's 15 years ago, folks!)

Let me directly address a growing controversy. It is something whispered about over tall martinis. Something alluded to while waiting for the Guinness to settle. Something hinted at while smoking cigarettes in the vestibule. Something suggested on the cab ride home. It's something that's not quite out of control, but it's also something that shows no signs of slowing. It is something not unlike the start of a scandal. What could this impropriety be, you might ask? What is the obliquity in question? Why, the taint seems to be the TNSC Venue Selection Process, actually: It has been conjectured that the Process has been manipulated to serve the personal needs of a certain Founding Member.

One might wonder just why some list members are vilifying the TNSC VSP. This Founding Member was indeed ashamed to learn of such accusations. The vernerable Process has had a long run of venue selections that "fulfill well the needs of the List Members who actually show up."1 The TNSC Charter itself calls for the Process to be "fair, magnanimous, unselfish, utilitarian, practical and impartial."2 It also stipulates that it must be "public, consensual and informal."3 Such requirements produced the primary tool of the TNSC Venue Selection Process: The TNSC Venue Determinator.

Spawned by some math geeks at the University of Bisbee, the TNSC Venue Determinator is a surprisingly simple equation. This assertation made in light of the complicated problem it solves weekly. It is unfortunate, however, that it is impossible to publish the equation in this forum as it is a sensitive trade secret. What is of public knowledge, though, is a list of partially declassified variables that have been factored into the equation for the last 6 months:

1. Proximity to [CLASSIFIED]'s place of work;

2. Proximity to [CLASSIFIED]'s residence;

3. National Oceanic & Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) predicted atmospheric conditions for 38 degrees north latitude, 122 degrees west longitude on the Thursday evening in question;

4. Proximity to [CLASSIFIED]'s girlfriend's residence;

5. Proximity to BART, CalTrain and Muni stations.

So you see, there's ... ahem ... nothing fishy about the TNSC Venue Selection Process. No one ... er ... nothing at all. Shoot. Don't take this Founding Member's word for it, see for yourself. Follow this link to the Thursday Night Social Club Venue Selection Process Graphical User Interface and put the Determinator through its paces. Marvel at the unequivocal randomness that serves all list members, not merely one Founding Member.


Tonight - Lone Palm
(perfect place to get out of that wet weather, and into a dry Martini)


Bibliography

1. Pidd, Stuart. I Was Born In Tennessee: The Myth and Reality of the Thursday Night Social Club. Bisbee: University of Bisbee Press, 1999, 67.

2. Chimenti, Johnson, Metsker and Smith. The El Gran Charter de Thursday Night Social Club. San Francisco: Tennessee This Thursday Press, 1998, 36.

3. Chimenti, et al, 109.



bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!