Pork
12.1.2k8

My brother moved recently. His new apartment is in a five-story apartment building and he lives on the third floor in apartment 312. One floor above him, in 412, lives a real-live whore!! There's the obvious drawbacks to living under a whore, but as this one is a "Ritz Carlton" whore, it's not as bad as one would think. Loud sometimes, but not really the icky, junky, street-walking type. My brother figures she has regular johns, as the bed upstairs creaks at regular intervals.

Anyway, I tell you this because my brother told me a fun story. It was a week or two after he moved in and after a busy week and an especially tough Friday that at 11:45p he decided to call it a night. Moments after he settled in, he heard a couple loud grrrrls approaching from down the hall. Moments later, someone put their shoulder into his door and began to pound on it. "Roxy!! Roxy!!! Open up!!" My brother thought, what the hell, and opened up.

Outside stood two drunk skinny girls in big black boots, tight dresses and a lot of hairspray and makeup. They regarded each other a few seconds. Standing there in nothing but black socks and happiness, he said to the two "marina skanks," "I think you want the floor above me. But, hell, if you want a couple Miller Lites™ and some Triscuits™, come on in." They declined.

Tonight - Lucky 13.



bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!

Widescreen
11.3.2k8

If you voted for me, thanks. Turns out I came out a bit short. And the camo beercans are nowhere to be found, so I'm revealing my position again. Lousy week.

Tonight - since next weekend is turkey day, tonight it's Homestead.

Safe travels to all, ok?

bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!

Wimpy wimpy wimpy.
11.2.2k8

I know that when I'm getting my blast on I like to trow down several sudsy beverages. I know that I don't like the impact that drinking beers from can or bottle has on giving my position away to my quarry, whether beast or thing. By beast I mean clay pidgey. By thing I usually mean empty beer can, neither of which will exploit the knowledge of my position to its gain, but if it would, I would most assuredly pay a hefty price.

So Obama bless our wonderful friends at the venerable Miller Brewing Co. who have introduced unobtrusive packaging on their wonderful Champagne of Beers™. That's right ... properly camouflaged and outfitted with these camouflaged beer cans, one could stalk the wiley can on a fence post completely unnoticed.



Tonight - Club De-Luxe.

Burlesque!

bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!

ˈvīrəs
11.1.2k8


There's nothing worse than being sick. Other than when you work for a giant creative entity and the whole place is sick. Not individual sickness, like coughs, colds and flu, but a giant collective sickness - like a virus. The good side is there aren't the 300 daily emails that distract one from one's work. The bad side is that contact to friends and loved ones on the outside world is via Instant Message is non-existent. The indifferent side is that a genuinely less creative, but trusted cohort has to resort to hijacking your identity to post tonight's Venue Announcement.


Tonight - House of Shields.

Bow to it. 100 years old and still going strong. Enjoy the soul-country stylings of the Mike Therieau (from "The Loved Ones", and "Dave Gleason's Wasted Days"), featuring ex-TNSC bartender Pat Johnson.

Show starts at 8pm. FREE!!!

See you there. I know I'll be.

Bye-ee!

whrr ... clik!