Exothermic? Endothermic? (REDUX)

11.5.2017  (first posted this week 2000 - also a 5-Thursday November)

You ever have one of them dreams "the experts" say means you want to sleep with your mother or that you harbor a deep guilt about shootin' pigeons with your BB gun when you were nine? Not me! I always have kick-ass dreams about surfing or finding a million bucks in my jeans pocket or finishing a really cool jigsaw puzzle. Of, like, the Hoover Dam or something. You ever been to the Hoover Dam? That sucker is somethin' else. Huge. I saw a TV documentary on it on the Discovery Channel. Amazing stuff. There's enough concrete in that thing to pave a 16-foot wide highway from San Francisco to New York City. Dang! Oh, and, they had to build an ice factory to cool the chemical heat created by the setting cement. Wow! The show's producers were quick to point out that, contrary to legend, nobody was buried alive in that concrete. I once had a dream about being buried alive. Sorta. I wasn't the one gettin' buried alive, I just witnessed it. A plane crash-landed on a pal and drove him deep into the ground. He survived, but was stuck in the ground with the wreck on top of him. I was like, "how sad," as a crowd of people gathered. I talked to him while he was stuck and he kept saying that he was hungry. I don't think he ever got out. Weird, huh? Try and make heads or tails of that one. Mull over tonight at:

The Homestead

Who wants to write a review of last week's "Secret Meeting?" I need a volunteer, as I was watching the Blackhawks give up power play goals to the Sharks. New to the list: Dan. Another Dan. Not the same Dan as a couple weeks back. Really. Swear to god.

TONIGHT'S CONTEST: Blue Ribbon Baby Photo Contest (?)

TONIGHT'S DRAMATIC REENACTMENT: Kasparov v. Deep Blue: The Rematch. In May 1997, Gary Kasparov, the World's reigning chess champ, played a rematch chess tournament with the IBM supercomputer named "Deep Blue." In an exciting turn-of-events, Deep Blue beat Kasparov. Game One, played on 03 May 1997, will feature Alan as Kasparov and Lee Lee the Musical Bee as Deep Blue. (Kasparov wins.) Game Two, played on 04 May, has Susan Smith as Kasparov and Jerry Castro as Deep Blue. (Deep Blue wins.) Game Three (06 May) will be Danielle as Kasparov and Belinda as Deep Blue. (Draw.) Game Four: (07 May) (nameless) as Kasparov, Teensy as Deep Blue. (Draw.) Game Five: (10 May) Moss as Kasparov, Jeremy as Deep Blue (Draw.) And the decisive Game Six, where Kasparov disgraced the human race, has John Metsker as Kasparov and Sue Erokan as the rampaging Deep Blue, the machine bent on World Domination!

Stadium seats at the movies are cool, sure, but what about two-seater stadium seats? For snuggling, hiding, whatever! Your thoughts.

Anybody have Andy Breccia's phone number? I lost it.

Shake off the tryptophan hangovers and get yerselves to The Homestead. Bring yer beautiful pals. I will. Fer sure. See you there! 

bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Balderdash! (REDUX)

11.3.2017 (first posted this week 2003)

So I had to submit to a urine test the other day. I'd been accused or using performance-enhancing drugs during the last Scrabble tournament I'd won and I had to clear my name. Boy is it a cutthroat world! Anyway, I don't know if you ever had to pee in a cup for anything other than normal reasons (?), but when you're a suspect, they treat you a lot different at the clinic. They're not nice. They're cold, they're quite rude and their stares burn a hole right through you. The clinician I was lucky enough to get was as big as a house and scary looking. He breathed through one nostril and squished his face into a scowl worthy of a Halloween mask. He ordered me to empty my pockets into a clear, lucite box. When I'd finished, he spun me around and fuckin'-A FRISKED me. "Jesus, buddy, watch yr hands," I said. He grunted a shutthefuckup. When his full-cavity search turned up nothing, he slapped a padlock on the lucite box and then handed me the box and thrust a piss cup in my hand. "Go in dere," he said, motioning to a room with a unisex symbol on the door, "and you gots fifteen seconds only. And yr being watched through the cameras and such. Don't do nothin' funny or I'm comin' in." Jesus, I thought, going into the room, no pressure or nothing.

I managed to fill the specimen cup in the alloted time and capped it. I opened the door and handed it over to the Neanderthal. "Here ya go, Piss Man," I said, "now unlock my shit, yo." I thought it was funny to call him Piss Man. And I aced the test. My pee was squeaky clean, yo. Don't need dope to throw my BCHSXYZ into _EN_O___AMP_OR_ to spell BENZOXYCAMPHORS and score 1830 points, yo.

Tonight - Persian Aub Zam Zam.  (I guess it's just called "Zam Zam" now. WTF?)

It's TNSC founding member John Metsker's BDay.  C'mon out and raise a toast to him!
** CASH ONLY **

bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Nosotros tenemos mas queso que tu tiene. (REDUX)

11.2.2017 (first posted this day 2000)

I'm totally bummed and not a little bit pissed off. Some jackass threw out my lunch. I'm trying to save some dough by bringing a lunch rather than going out every day and here we have some (expletive) going and throwing it out. Sure I can see the need to clean up - more so because this joint is filled to overflow with (expletive) slobs. (I think one of our technical staffers is actually a chunk of moldy cheese from the fridge that acquired sentience, mobility, language and LAN management skills and got his ass a good haircut and a job. I'm considering blowing the whistle on that gouda-boy and if I found out he's the one chucked my lunch I will.)

Dang. It was a good lunch, too. The sandwich was my fav: A BLORT sandwich. That's right, a Bacon, Lettuce, Onion, Ranch and Tomato sandy. You add the ranch early so the bread sogs up good. What else? Oh yeah, pickle. Oh (expletive)! My pickle! I wanted that (expletive) pickle! Ack! Yeah, I also got screwed out of Chili-Cheese Fritos. Best salty treat ... ever. Hunk of homemade punkin' pie. I'm not takin' hostages over that one because I gave this girl I know some of the pie in my super antique (mfg. 1954!) Tupperware pie tupper-thingy. I'm glad it's out on loan and not at the bottom of the (expletive) dust bin. It was my mom's. Crap. Tum-tum's a'growlin' and my former lunch is eight feet under. Or six. Six feet. Right. Six feet under. I have a problem with them things sometimes. Six feet under; Davey Smith's Locker, or Jones or whatever; "Give you an inch, You take a yard"; and the shave-your-dog's-ass-'cause-you're-so-dang-ugly joke. I screw those up all the time. I'm hungry now and it ain't even luncheon. Pitched lunch. Unlucky me. Let's drink here tonight fer chrissakes:


Broken Record  (by request - a little detour to the Excelsior)
**CASH ONLY**

How about that goddamn election? "Gigantic step backward!" And I hear we ain't gonna get squished now: "INTERNET LINK" Might have been better? Nobody new to list. Nobody booted.

TONIGHT'S CONTEST: Voter-fraud contest (Bonus points if you're from Florida.)

TONIGHT'S DRAMATIC REENACTMENT: Sorry. The TONIGHT'S DRAMATIC REENACTMENT Generator is offline. We hoped to have it back up by now, but no. Let's see ... go ahead and reenact last week's meeting. Kinda lame, sure, but without the TDRGen I'm at a loss. Next week for sure. (No Refunds. Don't even ask.)

TONIGHT'S SINGLED-OUT LIST MEMBER: Teensy. The TNSC Attendance Probability Engine (still online) calculated a very low chance of Teensy showing up tonight. That data fed into the TNSC-TONIGHT'S SINGLED-OUT LIST MEMBER Calculator (also still online) coughed up Teensy's name. Tag, Teensy, you're it.

I've seen three squished rats on the street lately. Just tail, claws and grease stain. Anybody out there slowing down for them poor, little, ugly suckers?

Repeat this throughout the day: I will go to the TNSC meeting tonight. I will bring my pals. I will see you there. bye-ee!

Icy London (REDUX)

11.1.2017 (first posted this week 2003)

I recently redefined my "Leave of Absence" to a cooler, sexier term: "Special Assignment."

You know, a pal asks how work is going and you say, "I'm on Leave of Absence," and yr pal thinks yr a dork, but not if you say, "I'm on 'Special Assignment.'" They'll start thinking about the cool, sexy adventures you'll be having on "Special Assignment:" Jetting off to exotic cities, deep-sea fishing, smearin' cocoa butter on some hottie's shoulders and whatnot. In reality, though, "Special Assignment" has afforded me time to fill my apartment with smoke from my fireplace, pick up cat poop and buy foods that rot in my fridge. Yeh, baby ... SEXY!

Tonight - Thieves Tavern


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!