6.4.2019 (first posted this week 2003)
So I got two water taps on the outside of the house. One in front and the other around back. I kept clothes-lining some of the flowers in the front with the hose as I dragged it around back to water the flowers and bushes and shit back there, so I bought a hose for the back. I got a short 25' hose that had a de-lux multi-headed nozzle included. I ... well ... hosed up the hose to the tap and commenced watering. I tried out the various sprays the new nozzle emitted. There were a couple good ones, some that I'd not soon use and lastly, a mist setting. That one was nice as it sprayed out a really fine, gentle mist. Good for misting the roses and the spiderwebs in the ivy. I noticed a really curious thing, though: While the sunshine through the mist should have created your classic rainbow, the rainbow through this mist was purple only. I thought what the fuck is up with this? I switched back to a normal sprayer and there's the classic ROYGBIV rainbow. Nope, I thought, I wasn't suddenly colorblind. Musta been some fluke or something. I switched back to mist and there's the purple-only rainbow again. WTF? I was really confused. Back to normal sprayer: ROYGBIV. Mist sprayer: Purple. Oh shit, something's is fucking wrong! I turned to look at the sun and there was my best friend Phil on a 12' ladder holding a big 'ol magnifying glass up to the sun. He blasted me right in the fucking eye with the concentrated sunlight and fucked up my vision but good. I heard, but didn't see, Phil laughing so hard he fell off the ladder and landed on the rosebush. Then we both laughed at each other, the unmistakable stench of roasted cornea still strong in the air.
Tonight - Homestead
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, June 27, 2019
Thursday, June 20, 2019
Bang Your Gavel (REDUX)
6.3.2019 (first posted this week 2003)
I’m moving, right, so everything in the apartment is in total flux. Thank Jeebus I got a good setta speakers on the Mac and a ton of mp3’s, ‘cause the stereo’s been packed deep in a cardboard box with a wadded-up ream of that blank newspaper, a bulk pac of powdered soup, all the coasters in the joint and the few comic books I’ve deemed worthy of keeping. Do you purge when you move?
I’m compelled to purge. Remember that compressed-air bike horn I bought and fucking loved for about a week? Cocksucker had to go. (MS Word didn’t underline “cocksucker” like it did “Jeebus,” “setta” and “pac.” That makes you think, yes?) The horn made the move from Chicago to ‘Frisco, and from the old joint to the new one. Ain’t gonna make it to the next one, though. Neither is a huge box of Tupperware, half of my Macintosh collection or a cool, vintage raincoat I got for ten bucks in Old Flagstaff back in ’89. My relationship with a lot of my clothes has run its course. I’m purging about 40 T shirts, numerous pants, shorts and sweaters, as well as a legion of socks. All told, the donation pile filled a car. Add to that the stuff I threw away and you might think I’ve purged most of my stuff. Nope. I still got some thirty-odd boxes, bed, couch, book cases, blah, blah, blah. Good thing I don’t have a basement full of junk. Or an Attic. There’d be no end to the junk I’d amass.
Tricked a few of you (Alan) with last week's Find the Reference! Some of you math geeks saw through it.
That’s all for now. Packing. Busy. See you at venue!!
Tonight - Orbit Room - Solstice Celebratio .
(as the earth orbits around the sun, so too do we orbit around the room)
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
I’m moving, right, so everything in the apartment is in total flux. Thank Jeebus I got a good setta speakers on the Mac and a ton of mp3’s, ‘cause the stereo’s been packed deep in a cardboard box with a wadded-up ream of that blank newspaper, a bulk pac of powdered soup, all the coasters in the joint and the few comic books I’ve deemed worthy of keeping. Do you purge when you move?
I’m compelled to purge. Remember that compressed-air bike horn I bought and fucking loved for about a week? Cocksucker had to go. (MS Word didn’t underline “cocksucker” like it did “Jeebus,” “setta” and “pac.” That makes you think, yes?) The horn made the move from Chicago to ‘Frisco, and from the old joint to the new one. Ain’t gonna make it to the next one, though. Neither is a huge box of Tupperware, half of my Macintosh collection or a cool, vintage raincoat I got for ten bucks in Old Flagstaff back in ’89. My relationship with a lot of my clothes has run its course. I’m purging about 40 T shirts, numerous pants, shorts and sweaters, as well as a legion of socks. All told, the donation pile filled a car. Add to that the stuff I threw away and you might think I’ve purged most of my stuff. Nope. I still got some thirty-odd boxes, bed, couch, book cases, blah, blah, blah. Good thing I don’t have a basement full of junk. Or an Attic. There’d be no end to the junk I’d amass.
Tricked a few of you (Alan) with last week's Find the Reference! Some of you math geeks saw through it.
That’s all for now. Packing. Busy. See you at venue!!
Tonight - Orbit Room - Solstice Celebratio .
(as the earth orbits around the sun, so too do we orbit around the room)
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, June 13, 2019
Violins (REDUX)
6.2.2019 (first posted this week 2000)
A long, long time ago I had a pet silverfish. It was quite the non-standard pet; not a single pet food store had silverfish food. Purina did not manufacture "Silverfish Chow." I guessed that not a lot of folks kept the little suckers as pets. I got a little worried when it didn't eat for a while. For a little over a year, actually. It got a little thin. It seemed happy, though. It really perked up when I discovered it's favorite foods: dried beef, flour, starch, paper, gum, glue, cotton, linen, rayon, silk, sugar, molds and breakfast cereals. It went through a LOT of cereal. Super Sugar Crisp. (It was a long time ago and it used to be okay to include the word "sugar" in product names. Now Post, Kellogg's and the big G wuss out and call things "Super Golden Crisp." yawn.) Anyhoo, tonight's venue for some weird reason reminded me of the happy days of scuttling across the concrete floor of the basement in Pittsburgh, PA, with my pet silverfish: POW!
Since that venue no longer exists in 2019, instead head over to:
Spec's 12 Adler Museum Café
(go for the booze, stay for the cheese & crackers)
** CASH ONLY **
Moss alternate email added to list. No one taken off this week. Next week? Is Serena Warner's address correct, or does she just keep getting better offers Thursday nights?
Alan Chimenti birthday next week. He likes cufflinks, lighters, ties, tikis, Volkswagens, gin and smokes. He will be 25.
Contests: Bloody knuckles. Chili pepper eating. Quilting (Tama not eligible).
This week's Art's and Crafts: God's eyes. (Bring your own popsicle sticks. Yarn will be provided.)
This week's singled-out list member: Uriah Lovelycolors. She said something like "See you there" last week. I didn't see her. Did anyone else?
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
A long, long time ago I had a pet silverfish. It was quite the non-standard pet; not a single pet food store had silverfish food. Purina did not manufacture "Silverfish Chow." I guessed that not a lot of folks kept the little suckers as pets. I got a little worried when it didn't eat for a while. For a little over a year, actually. It got a little thin. It seemed happy, though. It really perked up when I discovered it's favorite foods: dried beef, flour, starch, paper, gum, glue, cotton, linen, rayon, silk, sugar, molds and breakfast cereals. It went through a LOT of cereal. Super Sugar Crisp. (It was a long time ago and it used to be okay to include the word "sugar" in product names. Now Post, Kellogg's and the big G wuss out and call things "Super Golden Crisp." yawn.) Anyhoo, tonight's venue for some weird reason reminded me of the happy days of scuttling across the concrete floor of the basement in Pittsburgh, PA, with my pet silverfish: POW!
Since that venue no longer exists in 2019, instead head over to:
Spec's 12 Adler Museum Café
(go for the booze, stay for the cheese & crackers)
** CASH ONLY **
Moss alternate email added to list. No one taken off this week. Next week? Is Serena Warner's address correct, or does she just keep getting better offers Thursday nights?
Alan Chimenti birthday next week. He likes cufflinks, lighters, ties, tikis, Volkswagens, gin and smokes. He will be 25.
Contests: Bloody knuckles. Chili pepper eating. Quilting (Tama not eligible).
This week's Art's and Crafts: God's eyes. (Bring your own popsicle sticks. Yarn will be provided.)
This week's singled-out list member: Uriah Lovelycolors. She said something like "See you there" last week. I didn't see her. Did anyone else?
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, June 06, 2019
Pencil neck
6.1.2019
"Back when I was a kid
Life was going swell
'Til something happened
Blew everything to hell"
I was the thing that happened.
My sister, brother and I were little kids in the early 80s. When we went to McDonalds, my mom got us small cheeseburgers and small fries. "Happy Meals" were not invented yet, or we would have gotten those.
When we were little kids, we lived with only our mom most of the time. Our dad was a busy lawyer who worked out of town most of the time and since he wasn't around much, he didn't know much about raising kids, or how fucking horrible they could be.
So dad is home one Friday night and we decide on getting McDonalds for dinner. I ask if I can go with him to pick up the normal order. He says okay and I go with him, while my brother and sister stay home with our mom.
When we get there and while we wait in the line of cars in the drive-thru, I say, "Dad? Can I get a Big Mac?" knowing full-well what I was doing: Sabotage.
"Get whatever you want," he said, and placed the normal order of small cheesebugers and small fries for my sibs. "Big Mac and large fries, please," I said. He told the Hamburgler (the drive-thrus those days were Fiberglass models of the McDonalds cartooney characters) his adult-sized order, what my mom wanted and in a few minutes, we got our go-bags and we were homeward bound.
Oh but did I torpedo the rest of the evening!! I triumphantly marched in with my Big Mac and my unmistakable red container of large fries and paraded right up to my brother and sister. Their eyes went saucer-shaped, as did their mouths and in moments a blood-curdling wail came from their throats. "WHY DOES HE GET LARGE FRIES AND A BIG MAC????" Whaaaaaa!!!!" They were hysterical. I was elated. My evil plan worked!
However, my plan was not without consequences. My dad had no idea what happened. My mom knew exactly what happened. While I gloated, and ate from my large fries, my brother and sister kicked, screamed and cried. My dad was confused and my mom was disappointed, mostly with me. Dad had a short fuse, so his confusion turned quickly to fury and he left in a huff to get large fries and Big fuckin' Macs for everyone. When he left, my mom told me that she knew I did it all on purpose and she did NOT appreciate it at all.
I killed the evening, won a pyrrhic victory over my sibs and knocked another chip out of my parents' fractured relationship. Yay me!
Tonight - The Page
**cash only**
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
"Back when I was a kid
Life was going swell
'Til something happened
Blew everything to hell"
I was the thing that happened.
My sister, brother and I were little kids in the early 80s. When we went to McDonalds, my mom got us small cheeseburgers and small fries. "Happy Meals" were not invented yet, or we would have gotten those.
When we were little kids, we lived with only our mom most of the time. Our dad was a busy lawyer who worked out of town most of the time and since he wasn't around much, he didn't know much about raising kids, or how fucking horrible they could be.
So dad is home one Friday night and we decide on getting McDonalds for dinner. I ask if I can go with him to pick up the normal order. He says okay and I go with him, while my brother and sister stay home with our mom.
When we get there and while we wait in the line of cars in the drive-thru, I say, "Dad? Can I get a Big Mac?" knowing full-well what I was doing: Sabotage.
"Get whatever you want," he said, and placed the normal order of small cheesebugers and small fries for my sibs. "Big Mac and large fries, please," I said. He told the Hamburgler (the drive-thrus those days were Fiberglass models of the McDonalds cartooney characters) his adult-sized order, what my mom wanted and in a few minutes, we got our go-bags and we were homeward bound.
Oh but did I torpedo the rest of the evening!! I triumphantly marched in with my Big Mac and my unmistakable red container of large fries and paraded right up to my brother and sister. Their eyes went saucer-shaped, as did their mouths and in moments a blood-curdling wail came from their throats. "WHY DOES HE GET LARGE FRIES AND A BIG MAC????" Whaaaaaa!!!!" They were hysterical. I was elated. My evil plan worked!
However, my plan was not without consequences. My dad had no idea what happened. My mom knew exactly what happened. While I gloated, and ate from my large fries, my brother and sister kicked, screamed and cried. My dad was confused and my mom was disappointed, mostly with me. Dad had a short fuse, so his confusion turned quickly to fury and he left in a huff to get large fries and Big fuckin' Macs for everyone. When he left, my mom told me that she knew I did it all on purpose and she did NOT appreciate it at all.
I killed the evening, won a pyrrhic victory over my sibs and knocked another chip out of my parents' fractured relationship. Yay me!
Tonight - The Page
**cash only**
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
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