Rob (REDUX)

1.5.2019 (first posted this week 2006)

The partying with rock stars and gallons of booze and "watching" people snort coke off hooker's tits until 8:45 this morning and 15 minutes later making dailies halfway across town (thank you Milo from Luxor Cab) has left me feeling ZOMBIFIED! I'm sure you'll feel right at home at the aptly-named HOMESTEAD tonight.  

Tonight - The Homestead ... finder @ Folsom and 19th.

Pork tenderloin or roti chicken?

bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Locked Out (REDUX)

1.4.2019   (first posted this week 2001)

Every so often I get fired-up and feel the need to purge some of my stuff. The other day I got the urge and let 'er rip. I started with a big cardboard box. It's chalk-full of X-Files vhs tapes. I taped these episodes off the air way back when. Seasons one, two, three, maybe some season four. Do I really need some fifty-odd tapes that I haven't watched in all these years and I probably won't ever watch? I'm thinkin' I'm gonna ditch 'em. I also came across a box of old letters, birthday cards, notebooks, pictures - various personal stuff you all probably have somewhere. I got started reading some old notes, laughing my head off at some, feeling sentimental and sad about others and down-right shocked and amazed at others still. Check this little gem out. From my high school journal, Junior year, Semester 1, Quarter 1:

I can't believe I got an F on my Chem midterm. Christ. I was hoping for a D and I thought I had a snowball's chance for a D+ or even a C- but I'm sure now that god hates me and gave me an F. I suppose I shouldn't ditch all the Reconciliation Services and go smoke cigarettes in the parking lot. Phil and Phil go too but those f**ks got B's. I'm pretty sure they cheated, though. I could have cheated and pulled in a B. Goddamn it. Now I totally have to bust my ass the rest of the semester and pray for an A on the final. And all I can hope for is a C average. Crap. Those jackasses owe me a bunch of smokes too. I've been floating the Lucky Strike boat myself for a long time. They want to smoke? They got to steal their own from now on. Especially if they're gonna cheat and leave me out of it.

How's that for skeletons in the closet? Little bastard. Smoker, thief, liar. Hey! But it all turned out okay, right?

Tonight - Get your Tiki on at Pagan Idol!!

Musical entertainment by Project Pimento.  Live Theremin - don't miss it!!

TONIGHT'S CONTEST: Movie Trivia Contest. Warm up question: In Repo Man (Universal, 1984) what did Bud (Harry Dean Stanton) call the Rodriguez Brothers (Del Zamora and Eddie Valez) at the end of the car chase in the LA riverbed?

TONIGHT'S DRAMATIC REENACTMENT: The car chase in the LA riverbed in Repo Man (Universal, 1984). While showing Otto (Emelio Estevez) the ropes of repossessing cars, Bud (Harry Dean Stanton) finds himself in a wild car chase at the bottom of the mostly dry LA river bed with the notorious car thieves Lagarto and Napoleon Rodriguez (Del Zamora and Eddie Valez). It is at the end of this scene that Bud lets loose one of the best cut-downs ever: "God damn Rodriguez, gypsy - dildo - PUNKS! Moss is Otto; Shuba is Bud (Happy Bday Shu!); Chris H. is Lagarto; Sally is Napoleon; and Lee is the LA river.

TONIGHT'S SINGLED-OUT LIST MEMBER: Tama. She won "Member of the Millennium (20th Century)." It was a landslide. Overheard at the polls: "She always comes to meetings," "she's awfully quick to buy a list member a drink," "did you know she's been dry for 14 years," and even "I wonder if she can get me a discount at her work." Congrats, T, you certainly deserve it.

Anybody ever get the hiccups in a dream, only to wake and find that you really have them? NOT FUN. What's the cure?  Come have a Mai Tai or two.  Bring your friends, I will. See you there! 


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Yi-eee!. (REDUX)

1.3.2019  (first posted this week 2003)

Well goddamn if I didn't burn the holy shit outta my mouth on some hot soup the other day. Took two whole days to recover and the mouth ain't totally normal yet. I remember the last time I did as much and I remember the vow: "Nope! No more burnin' the shit outta my mouth." So much for that.
And to top off the physical discomfort, I'm forced to reassess my soup heating strategy. In the perfect world, you've got a pot on a stove and steamy soup ready to be ladled into bowl. In imperfect world, you got a can, an opener, a bowl and a microwave. This solution seems straightforward, but I manage to screw it up. I either get soup that is hot around the edges and ice-cold in the middle, or liquid-hot magma-soup ready to render my mouth fried crispy. With both you naturally got a bowl that ya need fireplace tongs to haul out of the micro. Too bad for all the fog, 'cause I'm ready to ditch the micro-zapper and try solar. 


Tonight - Lone Palm

(Get out of those wet clothes and into a Dry Martini)

Bring yr pals, I know I will. Bring yr inhalers. See you there! 

bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

Roll Over (REDUX)

1.2.2019  (first published this week 2001)

I usually walk to work on Thursdays. No sense in riding in, because Chuck would only sit in my office overnight. Safekeeping. I'm loathe to leave Chuck in the garage. Plus I'd be stuck walking in on Friday morning. I like to maximize sleeping on Friday morning. I usually need all I can get. Walking in ain't no big deal. I took the bus, the 19 Polk, a couple times and there's quite a collection of gangsters, thugs and warlock-witch-wierdos riding. I'd rather walk. Walking in today there was this rain thing goin' on. It never poured but rather annoyed with this constant misting. It was too windy to risk sacrificing one's umbrella and the mist was pretty light, but I was out in it for long enough to get kinda soaked. Screw it, though. It ain't snow and I'm dry a half-hour later. Here: I'll share some observations of the morning walk-to-work with you all.

There was this girl with obviously dyed red hair that had on a tuke. Complete with fuzzball/pompom/whatever you want to call it on top. It looked like a Gap tuke. Kinda trendy. Anyway ... I walk fast. Usually a lot faster that most people. This girl in the trendy Gap tuke walked pretty fast. About as fast as me. Not to be outdone, I picked up the pace. She won the race to Market Street because she J-walked through traffic and I don't mess with the crappy SF drivers.

There's a lot of junk on the sidewalk from Sutter and Hyde to Market and Hyde. Pour tons of water on that junk and it all starts lookin' the same: BAD.

There was this guy on the second leg of the trip (Market to Townsend on 8th) who also tried to keep the pace. I would pass and get 20 or 30 steps in front, only to be stopped by a red light where he'd catch up. But I won because T'homeless dude jackknifed his shopping cart right in front of him. Ha!

Even though it's raining, it ain't that cold. Crappy songs never get out of your head. (Examples: "She-Bop," that "I believe in miracles" song.)

They changed the big air-thingys at 650 Townsend. The metal is all shiny. (I didn't say the observations would be enthralling.)

One can be thirty years old but act ten.

It doesn't rain under highway overpasses and people still hold up their umbrellas.

Banana Republic boxers are okay to walk around in. Most boxers are not. They don't fit well and tend to ride.

Tonight -  step into the Phone Booth.

The News: Alternate addresses for Lee, Allison and Kristin this week. Download the Flash Player and install on your computer for something coming soon to the TNSC Venue Announcement. Bookmark the previous page and check it Thursdays in case email fails like it did last week. The host site will be changing soon, though. You'll be notified.

THIS WEEK'S CONTEST: Alan begged to have tonight's contest be a Wet T-Shirt Contest. I told him no, it's a family contest. He moaned about it, so it's up to you. I wash my hands of the thing.

THIS WEEK'S ALTERNATE "FAMILY" CONTEST: Make Out contest. Bonus points for opened-mouth kissing. (That's "Family.")

THIS WEEK'S DRAMATIC REENACTMENT: The introduction of the Apple Newton. Today in 1993 Apple Computer unveilled the hand-held computing device known as the Newton. Take a look at your Pilots and Visors, or whatever hand-held Palm thingy you've got. The Newton was better, but it failed to catch on. "Before it's time?" Perhaps. Oh well. Todd will play the Newton and Moss has volunteered to interpret the role of "Fanfare." I'll play an Apple-bashing journalist. (Should be easy. They're brainless.)

THIS WEEK'S SINGLED-OUT LIST MEMBER: Coach. Yesterday she asked Alan and I "where are you going tommorrow?" The correct question is "where are we going tommorrow?" She's singled-out because she A.) Screwed up the question, and B.) Has to wait for the TNSC Venue Announcement just like everyone else.

bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!

The Grey Box (REDUX)

1.1.2019  (first posted this week 2001)

A while back I wrote a TNSC Venue Announcement that had a bit to do with my gumball machine. In case you don't remember, I've got this official-like glass and metal gumball machine that's now about half-full, but was somewhere around three-quarters when I wrote that other one. Back then I used to warn people who were throwing in pennies, nickels, dimes, quarters or even Canadian coins that some of them gumballs were likely stale. You ever come across a stale gumball? Looks normal. No mold. No faded color. No funny smell. The dang thing looks absolutely normal but you pop one in and bite – CRACK! – there goes a molar. It's not unlike biting a rock. Not that it hurts, but there's this gunshot in you mouth and you're soon countin' teeth. Right. Now I figure there's a lot more stale gumballs. More than there was back then. And they're getting staler. Getting to be more of a liability. I suppose I should empty the thing and get me some fresh gumballs. You know what I mean. If I'm going to provide a service, I'd ought to do so responsibly. Ain't a great idea to bust up everyone's smiles. People want fresh gum, give 'em fresh gum. Hard to beat fresh gum. These suckers blow really big bubbles, too. Remember learning how to blow bubbles? Who taught you? A kid who lived down the street, Surgery Boy,* taught me. I learned how to blow bubble gum bubbles and, for the record, spit bubbles at exactly the same time. That's because the gum would give you this – excuse me - sugary, syrupy spit that was perfect for blowing spit bubbles. To this day, some fifty years later, I still blow the best spit bubbles after chewing bubble gum. Ha ha!

Tonight - Stookey's Club Moderne

Mr. Lucky and the Cocktail Party will again be serenading us throughout the evening (7:30 - 10pm).  There is no cover charge, but please consider a suitable offering to the artist and musicians as they pass the hat around.

Who's glad the Holidays are over? I sure am. 

New to the list: Berceste. Is she back from the 50th state yet?

TONIGHT'S CONTEST: Pronounce "Berceste."

TONIGHT'S DRAMATIC REENACTMENT: The debut of the "euro." On this day in 1999 Europe is united with a common currency for the first time since Charlemagne's reign in the ninth century. Eleven European Union nations launched the currency hoping to increase European integration and stimulate economic growth. Hard euro currency will debut 01 January 2002, replacing individual nations' hard currency. Players: Uriah plays the euro; replacing the mark, markka, franc, lira, peseta and escudo are Scott, Kay, Brett, Mel, Lee and Kristin. David plays the Austrian schilling and Woody plays the florin and Irish pound. Good luck, friends.

TONIGHT'S SINGLED OUT LIST MEMBER(S): Anybody with Bali Belly.

My dear sweet Auntie sent me a variety Holiday gift pack from the Hickory Farms people for Christmas. Them folks screwed the order up and I got it for New Year's and ... and I got a case of 'em! 12 Holiday gift variety packs! My point: Who wants cheese balls and who wants beef sticks?

Go to the bar. You need it after all you've been through. Thank you thank you thank you for being patient. It's paid off, no? Bring your pals. I know I will. See you there. bye-ee!


bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!