HOW FITTING...
The New Horizons probe being sent to Pluto is powered by...plutonium.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
IN RESPONSE TO NOELOMITE'S BLOG
RE: The quote "When I play with myself, I always win"
Not far off from the best song lyric I ever wrote: "If you can't find someone to play the game with you then go home and play with yourself", which was based on the fact that I used to play MFL games by myself. (No, MFL is not a typo. As a kid I made up the Martian Football League, mostly based on maps of Mars. Lots of history in the MFL...the Phobos-Deimos rivalry was especially intense.)
BTW dude, love the Warshington Monument pic (intentional typo). Surreal.
RE: The quote "When I play with myself, I always win"
Not far off from the best song lyric I ever wrote: "If you can't find someone to play the game with you then go home and play with yourself", which was based on the fact that I used to play MFL games by myself. (No, MFL is not a typo. As a kid I made up the Martian Football League, mostly based on maps of Mars. Lots of history in the MFL...the Phobos-Deimos rivalry was especially intense.)
BTW dude, love the Warshington Monument pic (intentional typo). Surreal.
Friday, January 13, 2006
REBUTTAL
(The following letter was published in the Blade this week by one of my NWOPC comrades. He makes a good point, and I would be remiss not to run it here.)
Put Ferner's 'crime' in perspective
Mike Ferner spray-paints an anti-war message on an overpass, defacing public property. There are vilifications, indignation, shock, and awe. The public order is disturbed. Protest is one thing, but he defaced public property. How sophomoric. How inappropriate!
The Bush Administration pre-emptively attacks the sovereign nation of Iraq based upon selective and equivocal intelligence. Some 160,000 American soldiers are mired in a bloody political and factional quagmire. The liberators have become occupiers.
The United States has gained the enmity of almost a third of the planet.
Almost 2,200 American soldiers have been killed in armed conflict. Depending upon whose figures you use, 30,000 to 100,000 Iraqis have been killed. The conflict has resulted in the destruction of a considerable amount of private and public property.
Placing these crimes on the grand scale of propriety, which one tips the balance?
Which crime defaces public property, which crime defiles human beings? Which crime messes up public property, which crime destroys people's lives? Which crime deserves our attention? Which crime deserves our indignation?
You tell me. You be the judge.
STEVEN R. MILLER
(The following letter was published in the Blade this week by one of my NWOPC comrades. He makes a good point, and I would be remiss not to run it here.)
Put Ferner's 'crime' in perspective
Mike Ferner spray-paints an anti-war message on an overpass, defacing public property. There are vilifications, indignation, shock, and awe. The public order is disturbed. Protest is one thing, but he defaced public property. How sophomoric. How inappropriate!
The Bush Administration pre-emptively attacks the sovereign nation of Iraq based upon selective and equivocal intelligence. Some 160,000 American soldiers are mired in a bloody political and factional quagmire. The liberators have become occupiers.
The United States has gained the enmity of almost a third of the planet.
Almost 2,200 American soldiers have been killed in armed conflict. Depending upon whose figures you use, 30,000 to 100,000 Iraqis have been killed. The conflict has resulted in the destruction of a considerable amount of private and public property.
Placing these crimes on the grand scale of propriety, which one tips the balance?
Which crime defaces public property, which crime defiles human beings? Which crime messes up public property, which crime destroys people's lives? Which crime deserves our attention? Which crime deserves our indignation?
You tell me. You be the judge.
STEVEN R. MILLER
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Monday, January 09, 2006
ELITE...SEVEN?
Well actually it's the Elite Eight, but Song Of The Year will take some time to decide. The other 7 have all been awarded. So without further a-doo-doo...
WEBSITE OF THE YEAR
Two-time defending champ dahl.com lost a shot at a 3-peat when the podcasts were shot down in May. Modesty forbids me from picking the Pond again. Rookie sensation Noelomite is off to a good start with Platypus Nerd/Nerdy Platypus, and FGMMA is an absolute treasure chest. But based on its sheer addictiveness and user-friendly interface, this year's champ has to be:
WINNER: Websudoku
MUSIC VIDEO OF THE YEAR
Since TISM's "Everyone Else Has Had More Sex Than Me" was named the 2004 winner, we go with those good ol' Ukrainian gypsy punks:
WINNER: "Start Wearing Purple"--Gogol Bordello
THE TRIO AWARD (COMMERCIAL OF THE YEAR)
The competition was kind of light. Only one ad really stood out, one that could easily be shown as a PSA in every junior high, high school, college, etc.:
WINNER: Zazoo Condoms--"I Want Those Sweeties!"
THE CARL SAGAN AWARD (MOVIE OF THE YEAR)
Star Wars Ep 3 almost achieved the impossible: making the first two eps worth suffering through. Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy deserved a bigger budget. Napoleon Dynamite (new to me) was, if nothing else, highly quotable. And the joyously offensive The Aristocrats had a lock on this award until the last week of the year. The movie that stole it away made me do something I never do: as soon as it was over I bought another ticket and saw it again immediately. Fuck the elitist critics who knock it for being a filmed version of the Broadway version. Many of us out here in the 'flyover states' don't have the time or the means to go see it on Broadway. Thank you, Mel Brooks, for allowing me to see it for $6.50 a pop plus bus fare:
WINNER: The Producers
(PS: My only minor quibble is that the L.S.D. character, originally played by Dick Shawn, was omitted. But then, Dick Shawn was inimitable, so that's understandable.)
CATCH PHRASE OF THE YEAR
The aforementioned Napoleon Dynamite had several worthy candidates, the Noelomite gave us "Rock out with your cock out!", and Mythbusters made me realize that, when you think about it, the seemingly benign phrase "ping-pong balls" is inherently funny. In any language. Case in point: "Las bolas del ping-pong!" But for all-out catchiness, it's hard to deny a 2nd win for the gypsy punks:
WINNER: "Start Wearing Purple"--Gogol Bordello
ALBUM OF THE YEAR
Plenty of honorable mentions: "American Idiot"--Green Day, "The Complete Conception"--The Conception Corporation, "Multi Kontra Culti vs. Irony"--Gogol Bordello, "Voila Intruder"--Gogol Bordello, "Want Two"--Rufus Wainwright, "X&Y"--Coldplay. But one look up top and this one's a dead giveaway. Taking the place of "Complete Madness", which stood as my all-time favorite album for over two decades:
WINNER: "Gypsy Punks"--Gogol Bordello
GEAK ROOKIE OF THE YEAR
Ah, the ever-prestigious GROTY award. Mythbusters leads the TV rookies, Websudoku will not release me from its vise-like grip, TISM has some of the best song titles since Pop Will Eat Itself (i.e. "I Might Be A Cunt But I'm Not A Fucking Cunt", "If You're Ugly, Forget It", "I'm On The Drug That Killed River Phoenix", and of course "Everyone Else Has Had More Sex Than Me"), and as fabulous babes go, Mo'Nique's curves make the inane "The Parkers" watchable. But down the stretch, this was clearly a two-horse race right down to the wire. And in the end, I had no choice but to declare that the first-ever deadlock in Elite 8 history...would go into OT and ultimately be broken in early April of 2006, when one team was set to rock Detroit, while the other team reacted to a harmless joke with a lot of bad 'tude:
WINNER: Gogol Bordello
The SOTY will take a while. Of the 128 SOTY entries, an unbelievable 37 are by Gogol Bordello, giving them a real shot at taking home 5 of the Elite 8, breaking the record of 4 by Taco The Wonder Dog in 2001.
Well actually it's the Elite Eight, but Song Of The Year will take some time to decide. The other 7 have all been awarded. So without further a-doo-doo...
WEBSITE OF THE YEAR
Two-time defending champ dahl.com lost a shot at a 3-peat when the podcasts were shot down in May. Modesty forbids me from picking the Pond again. Rookie sensation Noelomite is off to a good start with Platypus Nerd/Nerdy Platypus, and FGMMA is an absolute treasure chest. But based on its sheer addictiveness and user-friendly interface, this year's champ has to be:
WINNER: Websudoku
MUSIC VIDEO OF THE YEAR
Since TISM's "Everyone Else Has Had More Sex Than Me" was named the 2004 winner, we go with those good ol' Ukrainian gypsy punks:
WINNER: "Start Wearing Purple"--Gogol Bordello
THE TRIO AWARD (COMMERCIAL OF THE YEAR)
The competition was kind of light. Only one ad really stood out, one that could easily be shown as a PSA in every junior high, high school, college, etc.:
WINNER: Zazoo Condoms--"I Want Those Sweeties!"
THE CARL SAGAN AWARD (MOVIE OF THE YEAR)
Star Wars Ep 3 almost achieved the impossible: making the first two eps worth suffering through. Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy deserved a bigger budget. Napoleon Dynamite (new to me) was, if nothing else, highly quotable. And the joyously offensive The Aristocrats had a lock on this award until the last week of the year. The movie that stole it away made me do something I never do: as soon as it was over I bought another ticket and saw it again immediately. Fuck the elitist critics who knock it for being a filmed version of the Broadway version. Many of us out here in the 'flyover states' don't have the time or the means to go see it on Broadway. Thank you, Mel Brooks, for allowing me to see it for $6.50 a pop plus bus fare:
WINNER: The Producers
(PS: My only minor quibble is that the L.S.D. character, originally played by Dick Shawn, was omitted. But then, Dick Shawn was inimitable, so that's understandable.)
CATCH PHRASE OF THE YEAR
The aforementioned Napoleon Dynamite had several worthy candidates, the Noelomite gave us "Rock out with your cock out!", and Mythbusters made me realize that, when you think about it, the seemingly benign phrase "ping-pong balls" is inherently funny. In any language. Case in point: "Las bolas del ping-pong!" But for all-out catchiness, it's hard to deny a 2nd win for the gypsy punks:
WINNER: "Start Wearing Purple"--Gogol Bordello
ALBUM OF THE YEAR
Plenty of honorable mentions: "American Idiot"--Green Day, "The Complete Conception"--The Conception Corporation, "Multi Kontra Culti vs. Irony"--Gogol Bordello, "Voila Intruder"--Gogol Bordello, "Want Two"--Rufus Wainwright, "X&Y"--Coldplay. But one look up top and this one's a dead giveaway. Taking the place of "Complete Madness", which stood as my all-time favorite album for over two decades:
WINNER: "Gypsy Punks"--Gogol Bordello
GEAK ROOKIE OF THE YEAR
Ah, the ever-prestigious GROTY award. Mythbusters leads the TV rookies, Websudoku will not release me from its vise-like grip, TISM has some of the best song titles since Pop Will Eat Itself (i.e. "I Might Be A Cunt But I'm Not A Fucking Cunt", "If You're Ugly, Forget It", "I'm On The Drug That Killed River Phoenix", and of course "Everyone Else Has Had More Sex Than Me"), and as fabulous babes go, Mo'Nique's curves make the inane "The Parkers" watchable. But down the stretch, this was clearly a two-horse race right down to the wire. And in the end, I had no choice but to declare that the first-ever deadlock in Elite 8 history...would go into OT and ultimately be broken in early April of 2006, when one team was set to rock Detroit, while the other team reacted to a harmless joke with a lot of bad 'tude:
WINNER: Gogol Bordello
The SOTY will take a while. Of the 128 SOTY entries, an unbelievable 37 are by Gogol Bordello, giving them a real shot at taking home 5 of the Elite 8, breaking the record of 4 by Taco The Wonder Dog in 2001.
Friday, January 06, 2006
FROM THE DESK OF DUCKSOUP
Memo to Mo Clarett: Well, okay, at least it wasn't a Bronco. But then again, neither are you! (Ouch! Look out! Kitty has claws!)
Memo to all Pond readers: So, where I work we have a "Fun Friday" activity the 2nd Friday of every month. This month's idea was mine: I am having everyone bring in a baby/childhood/younger pic of themselves so we can all try to identify them. One co-worker submitted something like this:
A bit too young, I'm thinking.
Memo to Pat Robertson: JUST SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH ALREADY.
Sunday, December 25, 2005
(NOTE: Boy, will I be glad when this day is over and all the mindless Xmas zombies snap out of their annoying annual trance. In the meantime, I'd like to share with you George Carlin's bit on the ten commandments that pretty much echoes my thoughts on the subject.)
GEORGE CARLIN ON THE TEN COMMANDMENTS
(excerpted from the book "When Will Jesus Bring The Pork Chops?")
I have a problem with the ten commandments. Here it is:
Why are there ten? You don't need ten. I think the list of commandments was deliberately and artificially inflated to get it up to ten. It's clearly a padded list. Here's how it happened:
About five thousand years ago, a bunch of religious and political hustlers got together to figure out how they could control people, and keep them in line. They knew people were basically stupid and would believe anything they were told, so these guys announced that God -- God personally -- had given one of them a list of ten commandments that he wanted everyone to follow. They claimed the whole thing took place on a mountaintop, when no one else was around.
Well let me ask you something...when these guys were sitting around the tent making all this stuff up, why did they pick ten? Why ten? Why not nine, or eleven? I'll tell you why: because ten sounds important. Ten sounds official! They knew if they tried eleven, people wouldn't take them seriously. People'd say, "What, are you kidding me? The eleven commandments? Get the fuck outta here!" But ten...ten sounds important. Ten is the basis for the decimal system. It's a decade. It's a psychologically satisfying number: the top ten, the ten most wanted, the ten best dressed. So deciding on ten commandments was clearly a marketing decision! And it's obviously a bullshit list. It's a political document, artificially inflated to sell better. I'm gonna show you how you can reduce the number of commandments, and come up with a list that's a little more logical and realistic.
We'll start with the first three (and I'll use the Roman Catholic version because those were the ones I was fed as a little boy):
I AM THE LORD THY GOD THOU SHALT NOT HAVE STRANGE GODS BEFORE ME
THOU SHALT NOT TAKE THE NAME OF THE LORD THY GOD IN VAIN
THOU SHALT KEEP HOLY THE SABBATH
Okay, right off the bat, the first three commandments: pure bullshit. Sabbath day, Lord's name, strange gods...spooky language. Spooky language designed to scare and control primitive people. In no way does superstitious mumbo-jumbo like this apply to the lives of intelligent, civilized humans in the 21st century. So you throw out the first three commandments, and you're down to seven.
HONOR THY FATHER AND MOTHER
This commandment is about obedience, and respect for authority. In other words, it's simply a device for controlling people. The truth is, obedience and respect should not be granted automatically. They should be earned. They should be based on the parent's (or the authority figure's) performance. Some parents deserve respect; most of them don't. Period. We're down to six.
Now, in the interest of logic, something religion has a REALLY hard time with, I'm gonna skip around the list a little bit...
THOU SHALT NOT STEAL
THOU SHALT NOT BEAR FALSE WITNESS
Stealing and lying. Actually, when you think about it, these two commandments cover the same sort of behavior: dishonesty -- stealing, and lying. So we don't need two of them! Instead we combine these two and call it "THOU SHALT NOT BE DISHONEST." And suddenly we're down to five.
And as long as we're combining commandments, I have two others that belong together:
THOU SHALT NOT COMMIT ADULTERY
THOU SHALT NOT COVET THY NEIGHBOR'S WIFE
Once again, these two prohibit the same sort of behavior. In this case, marital infidelity. The difference between them is that coveting takes place in the mind, and I don't think you should outlaw fantasizing about someone else's wife. Otherwise what's a guy gonna think about when he's waxing his carrot? But marital fidelity is a good idea. So I suggest we keep the idea and call this commandment "THOU SHALT NOT BE UNFAITHFUL." And suddenly, we're down to four.
And when you think about it further, honesty and fidelity are actually part of the same overall value. So in truth we could combine the two honesty commandments with the two fidelity commandments, and, using positive language instead of negative, call the whole thing "THOU SHALT ALWAYS BE HONEST AND FAITHFUL." And now we're down to three.
THOU SHALT NOT COVET THY NEIGHBOR"S GOODS
This one is just plain stupid. Coveting your neighbor's goods is what keeps the economy going! Your neighbor gets a vibrator that plays "O Come All Ye Faithful"...you wanna get one too. Coveting creates jobs. Leave it alone. You throw out coveting, and you're down to two now: the big combined honesty/fidelity commandment, and the one we haven't mentioned yet:
THOU SHALT NOT KILL
Murder. The fifth commandment. But if you give it a little thought, you realize that religion has never really had a problem with murder. Not really. More people have been killed in the name of God than for any other reason. To cite a few examples, think about Irish history, the Middle East, the Crusades, the Inquisition, our own abortion doctor killings, and the World Trade Center, and you'll see how seriously religious people take "THOU SHALT NOT KILL." Apparently, to religious folks, especially the truly devout, murder is...negotiable. It just depends on who's doing the killing, and who's getting killed.
And so, with all this in mind folks, I offer you my revised list of the two commandments. First:
THOU SHALT ALWAYS BE HONEST AND FAITHFUL, ESPECIALLY TO THE PROVIDER OF THY NOOKIE
And second:
THOU SHALT TRY REAL HARD NOT TO KILL ANYONE, UNLESS OF COURSE THEY PRAY TO A DIFFERENT INVISIBLE AVENGER THAN THE ONE YOU PRAY TO
Two is all you need, folks. Moses could have carried them down the hill in his fuckin' pocket. And if we had a list like that, I wouldn't mind that brilliant judge in Alabama displaying it prominently in his courthouse lobby, as long as he included one additional commandment:
THOU SHALT KEEP THY RELIGION TO THYSELF!
GEORGE CARLIN ON THE TEN COMMANDMENTS
(excerpted from the book "When Will Jesus Bring The Pork Chops?")
I have a problem with the ten commandments. Here it is:
Why are there ten? You don't need ten. I think the list of commandments was deliberately and artificially inflated to get it up to ten. It's clearly a padded list. Here's how it happened:
About five thousand years ago, a bunch of religious and political hustlers got together to figure out how they could control people, and keep them in line. They knew people were basically stupid and would believe anything they were told, so these guys announced that God -- God personally -- had given one of them a list of ten commandments that he wanted everyone to follow. They claimed the whole thing took place on a mountaintop, when no one else was around.
Well let me ask you something...when these guys were sitting around the tent making all this stuff up, why did they pick ten? Why ten? Why not nine, or eleven? I'll tell you why: because ten sounds important. Ten sounds official! They knew if they tried eleven, people wouldn't take them seriously. People'd say, "What, are you kidding me? The eleven commandments? Get the fuck outta here!" But ten...ten sounds important. Ten is the basis for the decimal system. It's a decade. It's a psychologically satisfying number: the top ten, the ten most wanted, the ten best dressed. So deciding on ten commandments was clearly a marketing decision! And it's obviously a bullshit list. It's a political document, artificially inflated to sell better. I'm gonna show you how you can reduce the number of commandments, and come up with a list that's a little more logical and realistic.
We'll start with the first three (and I'll use the Roman Catholic version because those were the ones I was fed as a little boy):
I AM THE LORD THY GOD THOU SHALT NOT HAVE STRANGE GODS BEFORE ME
THOU SHALT NOT TAKE THE NAME OF THE LORD THY GOD IN VAIN
THOU SHALT KEEP HOLY THE SABBATH
Okay, right off the bat, the first three commandments: pure bullshit. Sabbath day, Lord's name, strange gods...spooky language. Spooky language designed to scare and control primitive people. In no way does superstitious mumbo-jumbo like this apply to the lives of intelligent, civilized humans in the 21st century. So you throw out the first three commandments, and you're down to seven.
HONOR THY FATHER AND MOTHER
This commandment is about obedience, and respect for authority. In other words, it's simply a device for controlling people. The truth is, obedience and respect should not be granted automatically. They should be earned. They should be based on the parent's (or the authority figure's) performance. Some parents deserve respect; most of them don't. Period. We're down to six.
Now, in the interest of logic, something religion has a REALLY hard time with, I'm gonna skip around the list a little bit...
THOU SHALT NOT STEAL
THOU SHALT NOT BEAR FALSE WITNESS
Stealing and lying. Actually, when you think about it, these two commandments cover the same sort of behavior: dishonesty -- stealing, and lying. So we don't need two of them! Instead we combine these two and call it "THOU SHALT NOT BE DISHONEST." And suddenly we're down to five.
And as long as we're combining commandments, I have two others that belong together:
THOU SHALT NOT COMMIT ADULTERY
THOU SHALT NOT COVET THY NEIGHBOR'S WIFE
Once again, these two prohibit the same sort of behavior. In this case, marital infidelity. The difference between them is that coveting takes place in the mind, and I don't think you should outlaw fantasizing about someone else's wife. Otherwise what's a guy gonna think about when he's waxing his carrot? But marital fidelity is a good idea. So I suggest we keep the idea and call this commandment "THOU SHALT NOT BE UNFAITHFUL." And suddenly, we're down to four.
And when you think about it further, honesty and fidelity are actually part of the same overall value. So in truth we could combine the two honesty commandments with the two fidelity commandments, and, using positive language instead of negative, call the whole thing "THOU SHALT ALWAYS BE HONEST AND FAITHFUL." And now we're down to three.
THOU SHALT NOT COVET THY NEIGHBOR"S GOODS
This one is just plain stupid. Coveting your neighbor's goods is what keeps the economy going! Your neighbor gets a vibrator that plays "O Come All Ye Faithful"...you wanna get one too. Coveting creates jobs. Leave it alone. You throw out coveting, and you're down to two now: the big combined honesty/fidelity commandment, and the one we haven't mentioned yet:
THOU SHALT NOT KILL
Murder. The fifth commandment. But if you give it a little thought, you realize that religion has never really had a problem with murder. Not really. More people have been killed in the name of God than for any other reason. To cite a few examples, think about Irish history, the Middle East, the Crusades, the Inquisition, our own abortion doctor killings, and the World Trade Center, and you'll see how seriously religious people take "THOU SHALT NOT KILL." Apparently, to religious folks, especially the truly devout, murder is...negotiable. It just depends on who's doing the killing, and who's getting killed.
And so, with all this in mind folks, I offer you my revised list of the two commandments. First:
THOU SHALT ALWAYS BE HONEST AND FAITHFUL, ESPECIALLY TO THE PROVIDER OF THY NOOKIE
And second:
THOU SHALT TRY REAL HARD NOT TO KILL ANYONE, UNLESS OF COURSE THEY PRAY TO A DIFFERENT INVISIBLE AVENGER THAN THE ONE YOU PRAY TO
Two is all you need, folks. Moses could have carried them down the hill in his fuckin' pocket. And if we had a list like that, I wouldn't mind that brilliant judge in Alabama displaying it prominently in his courthouse lobby, as long as he included one additional commandment:
THOU SHALT KEEP THY RELIGION TO THYSELF!
Thursday, December 08, 2005
QUOTE DU JOUR
"You know what sucks? They shot JFK in a moving car from the top of a building...Ronald Reagan was standing right next to Hinckley and he missed him! I only wish Hinckley would have gone after John Lennon. He would have missed Lennon, killed Yoko and been a fuckin' hero!"
--Otto & George
"You know what sucks? They shot JFK in a moving car from the top of a building...Ronald Reagan was standing right next to Hinckley and he missed him! I only wish Hinckley would have gone after John Lennon. He would have missed Lennon, killed Yoko and been a fuckin' hero!"
--Otto & George
Monday, November 07, 2005
Thursday, October 27, 2005
DUCK POND VARIETY PACK
Got three items to post, let's start with...
Best Band Names Playing The Toledo Area This Week
Atomic Bitchwax--Monday at Underground
Becoming The Archetype--tonight at Howards Club H
Canada's Electric Tiger Machine--Friday at Howards Club H
Dragon Spit--tonight at Mickey Finn's Pub
Funeral Black Condor--tonight at Mickey Finn's Pub
Gravel Salad--Friday at Longhorn Saloon
Intentions Of Nothing--Saturday at Headliners
None So Vile--Friday at Longhorn Saloon
The Nuclear Holy Warriors--Saturday at Mickey Finn's Pub
Scotty Karate--Friday at Underground
Sideways Smile--Saturday at Mickey Finn's Pub
Taking On Explosives--Monday at Underground
Twistin' Tarantulas--Friday at Underground
Next up...
Man pleads insanity in professor's death
A University of Texas student who claimed he stabbed and slashed his piano professor more than 200 times because he thought she was a robot intent on killing him pleaded not guilty by reason of insanity. Jackson Ngai, 24, went on trial for attacking Danielle Martin with a meat cleaver, scissors and other items in her kitchen in 2004. On her body was a note that read, "Computer chip in brain."
I, for one, will buy the insanity defense on this one, because when a sane person is stabbing someone they think is a robot trying to kill them, my guess is that after a couple dozen stabs, all the blood and guts and screaming in pain and terror would likely be sufficient to convince them that they're probably mistaken. "I'm sorry, I seem to have terribly misjudged you. I am sooo embarrassed. Shall I dial 911 for you?" Whereas an insane person at that point would think "Well, I'd better stab you a couple hundred more times, just to be on the safe side."
And last but not least...
Actually...
From USA Today, today:
Denver Mayor John Hickenlooper, who is afraid of heights, parachuted from a plane for a TV commercial to illustrate the state's plunging finances.
My problem with this, "actually," is that he "actually" made the jump "actually" strapped to an "actual" skydiving instructor, whose image was "actually" removed from the ad, "actually" making it appear as if Hickenlooper was "actually" diving alone.
In other words, this image is "actually" BULLSHIT!
And that "actually" pisses me off.
Got three items to post, let's start with...
Best Band Names Playing The Toledo Area This Week
Atomic Bitchwax--Monday at Underground
Becoming The Archetype--tonight at Howards Club H
Canada's Electric Tiger Machine--Friday at Howards Club H
Dragon Spit--tonight at Mickey Finn's Pub
Funeral Black Condor--tonight at Mickey Finn's Pub
Gravel Salad--Friday at Longhorn Saloon
Intentions Of Nothing--Saturday at Headliners
None So Vile--Friday at Longhorn Saloon
The Nuclear Holy Warriors--Saturday at Mickey Finn's Pub
Scotty Karate--Friday at Underground
Sideways Smile--Saturday at Mickey Finn's Pub
Taking On Explosives--Monday at Underground
Twistin' Tarantulas--Friday at Underground
Next up...
Man pleads insanity in professor's death
A University of Texas student who claimed he stabbed and slashed his piano professor more than 200 times because he thought she was a robot intent on killing him pleaded not guilty by reason of insanity. Jackson Ngai, 24, went on trial for attacking Danielle Martin with a meat cleaver, scissors and other items in her kitchen in 2004. On her body was a note that read, "Computer chip in brain."
I, for one, will buy the insanity defense on this one, because when a sane person is stabbing someone they think is a robot trying to kill them, my guess is that after a couple dozen stabs, all the blood and guts and screaming in pain and terror would likely be sufficient to convince them that they're probably mistaken. "I'm sorry, I seem to have terribly misjudged you. I am sooo embarrassed. Shall I dial 911 for you?" Whereas an insane person at that point would think "Well, I'd better stab you a couple hundred more times, just to be on the safe side."
And last but not least...
Actually...
From USA Today, today:
Denver Mayor John Hickenlooper, who is afraid of heights, parachuted from a plane for a TV commercial to illustrate the state's plunging finances.
My problem with this, "actually," is that he "actually" made the jump "actually" strapped to an "actual" skydiving instructor, whose image was "actually" removed from the ad, "actually" making it appear as if Hickenlooper was "actually" diving alone.
In other words, this image is "actually" BULLSHIT!
And that "actually" pisses me off.
Saturday, October 15, 2005
MONARCH DREAM: PART DEUX
Whoa.
I just now woke from another doozy of a dream. Most of it had a plot entirely unrelated to giant Monarchs, and I plum forgot all of those details, but right at the end I caught a TV news segment featuring giant Monarchs wintering in southern Florida. (I thought, wow, just like in my dream! Little did I know.)
Seems they were hanging out on the beaches down there, people were sunning on the beach with them, swimming with them, and some people were even water-skiing around on the Monarchs' backs! Cowa-fuckin'-bunga dude!
(Noel, I challenge you to find a picture to go along with THAT mental image!)
Too bad these damn things aren't real...think of the Monarch show the Orlando Sea World could put together!
One thing's for sure, I gotta fix some more bacon fish (what a band name) and see if I can induce a Part 3!
***
In an unrelated story...speaking of band names, I came upon 2 of the best ever the other day: the paper listed The Tony Danza Tap Dance Extravaganza, which was playing Thursday at Mickey Finn's. I wasn't sure if this was a band or some sort of tap dancing act endorsed by Mr. Danza. So I actually called MF's to find out. The guy I talked to confirmed that it was just a really silly band name, but not as silly as his personal favorite, John Cougar Concentration Camp.
Whoa.
I just now woke from another doozy of a dream. Most of it had a plot entirely unrelated to giant Monarchs, and I plum forgot all of those details, but right at the end I caught a TV news segment featuring giant Monarchs wintering in southern Florida. (I thought, wow, just like in my dream! Little did I know.)
Seems they were hanging out on the beaches down there, people were sunning on the beach with them, swimming with them, and some people were even water-skiing around on the Monarchs' backs! Cowa-fuckin'-bunga dude!
(Noel, I challenge you to find a picture to go along with THAT mental image!)
Too bad these damn things aren't real...think of the Monarch show the Orlando Sea World could put together!
One thing's for sure, I gotta fix some more bacon fish (what a band name) and see if I can induce a Part 3!
***
In an unrelated story...speaking of band names, I came upon 2 of the best ever the other day: the paper listed The Tony Danza Tap Dance Extravaganza, which was playing Thursday at Mickey Finn's. I wasn't sure if this was a band or some sort of tap dancing act endorsed by Mr. Danza. So I actually called MF's to find out. The guy I talked to confirmed that it was just a really silly band name, but not as silly as his personal favorite, John Cougar Concentration Camp.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
[Note: After I wrote this, I searched for pics to add to it, thus copying the style of Noel's blog, then I had Noel search for pics. I ended up using the best of both searches. Enjoy!]
[2010 P.S.: Most of the pics I used are gone now. Some I replaced, others I couldn't. Sorry.]
THE MONARCH DREAM
I had the strangest/coolest dream last week.
[I found this by searching 'strangest dream'. You'd think it'd come up under 'coolest dream']
As some of you may know, I have been a fan of the Monarch butterfly for many years now, ever since I was but a lad. I read up on them, raised them, even helped tag them now and then. Possibly my favorite animal on the planet.
(My dream vacation is to go to that forest clearing in Mexico where the Monarchs spend the winter. Well, that and a total solar eclipse. Of course, if I had the good fortune to be at the Monarchs' winter spot during a total solar eclipse there, I could die then and there with a smile on my face.)
[Actually, this COULD happen in 2024!]
But I don't think I ever had any kind of Monarch dream, that is to say, a dream that features Monarchs, let alone the fucked-up episode I dreamed on this night.
By the way, yes, I know what you're thinking, "Monarch Dream" is one hell of a great band name, and it is, I acknowledge that, but let me take just a mo to explain to you just why...
Working-class schlubs like you and me, we often dream of things we don't have. "I wish I could hit the lottery or make a killing on some bold new internet investment or patent the world's first iPod that performs oral sex (I think I'd call it 'blowPod'), and get me a nice big house and a nice car, yadda yadda yadda."
[So I searched for 'blow pod' and I found this pic. Strangely, it seems very accurate.]
But what if you're a monarch? (Royalty, I mean, not a butterfly.) You already have a freakin' mansion and a hot queen with a sweet ass and a private jet a closet full of a couple thousand pairs of shoes and a dozen or so blowPods (you know, for parties), what more could you want? What do you dream of? "You know, this is all great and all, but I sure wish Jann Arden lived next door and came over to our yard every day and made out with my hot wife half-naked under the sprinklers before we slip into my giant hot tub and indulge in some fantastic MFF BBW depravity." (Unless, of course, your wife *was* Jann Arden, in which case your neighbor would be, say, Mo'Nique.)
So there ya go, anything that is as good as that, is, to coin a phrase, a "Monarch's Dream". Therefore, Monarch Dream would be a great name for a spoiled, pretentious British pretty-boy alternative rock band. Here they come, taking the stage: "Hello, we're Monarch Dream. We are the greatest band in the world. Monarchs dream of being able to see us perform in person...yeah, two of us used to be in Oasis, what's your point?"
Anyhoo, back to my particular Monarch dream...
So it was mid-September, and the annual Monarch migration was underway, and, for whatever reason, in my dream they migrated in flocks. They would fly at night, and then rest as a flock in someone's yard or wherever, and spend the day feeding and sunning and saving up energy for the next night's flight.
And so I awoke one morning and went to the kitchen and looked out the window to discover that a flock of Monarchs had set up camp in my backyard for the day. I called off work. I didn't even lie and say I was sick. For this was a rare and privileged occurence. My supervisor, knowing of my fascination with the species, would understand.
My life-long love of Monarchs had come to its zenith on this day! I would spend the day observing my fair-winged friends. Except...well, there is one detail I haven't mentioned yet, and I would be horribly remiss if I didn't: these particular 'dream Monarchs' (also a good band name, and slightly less-pretentious) were...shall we say, (cue a bit of spooky reverb) NOT OF NORMAL SIZE.
Normal size of a Monarch being about a 4-inch wingspan, that is. Ah, but these Monarchs were...are you sitting down?...seven and a half times their normal size. That is to say, approximately a 30-inch wingspan. Thus when they were at rest with their wings folded up, they were about 15 inches tall. And as can be expected in, I think, most dreams, this seemed like nothing out of the ordinary. For reasons only my neurons will ever really know, this WAS normal Monarch size. In my dream.
[Forget "Sweet Transvestite", this is my next Halloween costume]
So there I am, sitting on my back porch, sipping from my 2-liter bottle of tea, having fixed no more complicated a breakfast for myself than a couple of pieces of German Rye toast, as I don't want to miss a minute of the wonderful show of nature in my yard: A few hundred or so huge, giant, and, in retrospect, almost downright frighteningly-gargantuan Monarch butterflies. (I also have a few cans of Chef Boyardee stacked up out there to get me through the day. Those new pull-tab lids are sooo convenient.)
I mean, now that I think about it in my waking existence, you normally would expect any such type of gigantic insects appearing in a dream to have claws and fangs and be flying around attacking and biting and killing people and beating them to death with their massive wings and feasting on their blood and flesh and people are running around screaming and panicking and CNN reporters are being trampled and some even offered up sacrificially and it all probably looks fantastic on a wide-screen HDTV and hey honey make some more popcorn willya please Spielberg has really outdone himself this time! (Okay, I just went all-out Mark Morford there with the run-on and all the 'and's and shit. My apologies if you hate that sort of thing. But how could you?)
[The pic I had *was* damn-near perfect. Mothra makes a passable replacement.]
But no, these were gentle, happy, playful, friendly giant Monarchs. (Hey, I just figured it out. Friendly giants! I use to love the "Friendly Giant" on the CBC as a kid. Ahh, warm, fuzzy memories...) And they would joyfully hop around the yard...well, only about a third to a half of them at a time, it seemed. Most of the rest were quietly napping in the trees, and a few were feeding on flowers here and there. (Maybe somewhere deep in the innermost parts of the canopies there was some mating going on, I imagined, but the rest were shielding anyone's view. Prudes. Maybe I like to watch? Come on, let me see some hot giant-butterfly sex. I mean, I've been sitting here half the day by now, I'm starting to get just a bit bored out here. Even I have my limits.)
[The late great Bob "The Friendly Giant" Homme]
Anyhoo, the rest were hopping around the yard all festive-like and making an almost-inaudible (and for the moment indistinguishable) sort of boinging sound, like a happy little flock of hyperactive orange-and-black-winged sheep on a giant yard-sized trampoline ("Shiny happy Monarchs hopping 'round..."), and it was just about that time some PBS nature-show host dude showed up and asked permission to film on my premises, to which I gladly obliged. I'm not sure, it may have been one of the Attenboroughs, don't ask me which one, Probably whichever one is still alive. Or maybe the dead one? I dunno. Whatever. It's not important.
[Caption: "This monarch butterfly is jumping on a trampoline. It planted a vine on a trellis."]
So he helpfully explains to me that although they are all roughly the same size, the ones resting in the trees are the adults and the ones hopping around on the ground are the youngsters. The very young are noticeably smaller, but are harder to spot since they are up in the trees with their parents.
Then he asks if I would like to know how to sex them? (I forget what my hilariously quick-witted response was, but if you know me well enough, you know it had to be side-splitting.) Well anyway, he then advises that if I listen carefully to their individual little quiet boinging sounds, that there are two distinct types: the males make a boinging sound that sounds sort of like the word 'port', while the female boing sounds sort of like the word 'point'.
This is the sort of thing you just don't notice under any circumstances until someone points ('point's?) it out to you, then you can't NOT notice it. You can't escape it. (Like when you see the same painting on a wall for years, and then one day you notice a dog's face in one of the clouds that you never noticed before, after which it's always the very first thing you see in the picture.) So now it's almost as if I am being deafened by all these softly quiet little 'port's and 'point's in my backyard. Can you imagine the sound? Can you imagine the sight! And the sound? Together? Whoa. These are some good drugs I'm on, man.
[Clearly this is not the painting I meant.]
He also 'point's (sorry, I can't help it) out that the females' hop averages out to be, for all practical purposes, exactly twice as high as the males'. This is indeed apparent. This is the kind of astuteness we have all, I think, come to expect from our PBS nature-show hosts. But what I learned next really surprised me.
In a jive-ass attempt to make myself seem like a know-it-all, I mention a casual observation I have just...well, observed: Some of the youngsters were play-chasing each other around the perimeter of the yard, and I noticed that the males' hop seemed to average out to be, for all practical purposes, exactly twice the distance of the females'. This was not readily noticeable on one's initial observation of the majority of a flock of giant Monarchs hopping around your yard en masse like a sort of lepidopteral Woodstock. An insect rave. A Monarch mosh pit!
I also observed a distinct difference in the frequency of hops between them. My ear just happened to pick out, at one particular moment, one of each gender hopping near me, and oddly enough, for every hop the female made, the male made two hops. And though they weren't actually interacting in any observable way, from my vantage point they seemed to have a rhythm going with each other. As luck would have it, they were perfectly synched. I'm not sure if I can approximate it here in text, but I'll try. The two sounds side by side were sort of like this:
"Portportportportportportportport..."
"Point.....point.....point.....point....."
...which, when observed, called to mind for me an old Pepe LePew cartoon, where he's steadily hopping along in pursuit of the cat. Only here the genders were reversed. And the two I heard weren't actually chasing each other, but the sound was definitely there.
Thus, the difference in hop frequency plus the difference in hop distance meant that the males traveled 4 times as fast as the females. (I think this ratio may also apply, in reverse of course, to the Pepe LePew cartoons.) And shockingly, the host dude had never noticed any of this. Apparently, no one else had ever noticed it either. I was the first! Where then, I thought, were my PBS dollars going? None of these jackoffs ever noticed something so seemingly obvious? "What the fuck are they paying you idiots for?!" I almost screamed.
"You're kidding," I actually said.
Later in the day, after the 'port'ing and 'point'ing had mostly died down and the camera crew had left, I spotted one of the smaller Monarchs that had just fallen out of the tree near the back corner of the yard. It had landed on its back with its wings spread out, and it was stuck there like a turtle, kicking its legs in the air. I hurried out and righted it.
It was a bit shaken so I petted it and comforted it, "There you go, little one, you're okay now," and it was obviously very grateful and started purring like a cat and sort of rubbing against my leg. "Careful," I cautioned, "you don't want to rub your scales off." I petted it some more and scritched its chin (it wasn't old enough to hop around yet, so I don't know what gender it was). Then I carefully picked it up and put it back up in the tree with its parents, who also seemed grateful.
Finally, around sunset, the flock gradually took off, a few at a time, and among the last to take off were the little one I helped and its parents. Just before they took flight, the parents looked back at me and seemed to nod in gratitude for my help and hospitality. My heart was warmed.
Then, the little one, before taking off behind them, looked back and, with just the very tip of one of its wings, waved to me as if to say "Thank you for letting us stay in your yard for the day! Bye-bye!" It was almost like some sappy-ass Disney movie or something. All that was missing was some lame Elton John ballad. And much as I hate to admit it, I got a little misty-eyed. But it WAS quite a touching moment.
[So I search for Elton John photos and I find this gem. Caption: "If Elton John was a poodle..."]
"Bye, little one," I waved back. "Maybe I'll get to host your descendants next year!"
[Noel says: "'Monarch waving' brought up the following:"]
So I'll bet you're wondering just what the fuck I had for dinner the night I had this dream. I'm not sure, but I believe it was leftover Long John Silver's fish (shaped like Nevada) re-fried in bacon grease. There you go. Good luck inducing your own giant Monarch dreams, if you dare! (And be sure not to miss the excellent footage of giant butterflies hopping around in my backyard, coming soon to PBS. Check local listings.)
[You might want to stock up on antacids]
[Left pic is a replacement]
I am not a normal man.
[Noel says: "No, you're not."]
[2010 P.S.: Most of the pics I used are gone now. Some I replaced, others I couldn't. Sorry.]
THE MONARCH DREAM
I had the strangest/coolest dream last week.
[I found this by searching 'strangest dream'. You'd think it'd come up under 'coolest dream']
As some of you may know, I have been a fan of the Monarch butterfly for many years now, ever since I was but a lad. I read up on them, raised them, even helped tag them now and then. Possibly my favorite animal on the planet.
(My dream vacation is to go to that forest clearing in Mexico where the Monarchs spend the winter. Well, that and a total solar eclipse. Of course, if I had the good fortune to be at the Monarchs' winter spot during a total solar eclipse there, I could die then and there with a smile on my face.)
[Actually, this COULD happen in 2024!]
But I don't think I ever had any kind of Monarch dream, that is to say, a dream that features Monarchs, let alone the fucked-up episode I dreamed on this night.
By the way, yes, I know what you're thinking, "Monarch Dream" is one hell of a great band name, and it is, I acknowledge that, but let me take just a mo to explain to you just why...
Working-class schlubs like you and me, we often dream of things we don't have. "I wish I could hit the lottery or make a killing on some bold new internet investment or patent the world's first iPod that performs oral sex (I think I'd call it 'blowPod'), and get me a nice big house and a nice car, yadda yadda yadda."
[So I searched for 'blow pod' and I found this pic. Strangely, it seems very accurate.]
But what if you're a monarch? (Royalty, I mean, not a butterfly.) You already have a freakin' mansion and a hot queen with a sweet ass and a private jet a closet full of a couple thousand pairs of shoes and a dozen or so blowPods (you know, for parties), what more could you want? What do you dream of? "You know, this is all great and all, but I sure wish Jann Arden lived next door and came over to our yard every day and made out with my hot wife half-naked under the sprinklers before we slip into my giant hot tub and indulge in some fantastic MFF BBW depravity." (Unless, of course, your wife *was* Jann Arden, in which case your neighbor would be, say, Mo'Nique.)
So there ya go, anything that is as good as that, is, to coin a phrase, a "Monarch's Dream". Therefore, Monarch Dream would be a great name for a spoiled, pretentious British pretty-boy alternative rock band. Here they come, taking the stage: "Hello, we're Monarch Dream. We are the greatest band in the world. Monarchs dream of being able to see us perform in person...yeah, two of us used to be in Oasis, what's your point?"
Anyhoo, back to my particular Monarch dream...
So it was mid-September, and the annual Monarch migration was underway, and, for whatever reason, in my dream they migrated in flocks. They would fly at night, and then rest as a flock in someone's yard or wherever, and spend the day feeding and sunning and saving up energy for the next night's flight.
And so I awoke one morning and went to the kitchen and looked out the window to discover that a flock of Monarchs had set up camp in my backyard for the day. I called off work. I didn't even lie and say I was sick. For this was a rare and privileged occurence. My supervisor, knowing of my fascination with the species, would understand.
My life-long love of Monarchs had come to its zenith on this day! I would spend the day observing my fair-winged friends. Except...well, there is one detail I haven't mentioned yet, and I would be horribly remiss if I didn't: these particular 'dream Monarchs' (also a good band name, and slightly less-pretentious) were...shall we say, (cue a bit of spooky reverb) NOT OF NORMAL SIZE.
Normal size of a Monarch being about a 4-inch wingspan, that is. Ah, but these Monarchs were...are you sitting down?...seven and a half times their normal size. That is to say, approximately a 30-inch wingspan. Thus when they were at rest with their wings folded up, they were about 15 inches tall. And as can be expected in, I think, most dreams, this seemed like nothing out of the ordinary. For reasons only my neurons will ever really know, this WAS normal Monarch size. In my dream.
[Forget "Sweet Transvestite", this is my next Halloween costume]
So there I am, sitting on my back porch, sipping from my 2-liter bottle of tea, having fixed no more complicated a breakfast for myself than a couple of pieces of German Rye toast, as I don't want to miss a minute of the wonderful show of nature in my yard: A few hundred or so huge, giant, and, in retrospect, almost downright frighteningly-gargantuan Monarch butterflies. (I also have a few cans of Chef Boyardee stacked up out there to get me through the day. Those new pull-tab lids are sooo convenient.)
I mean, now that I think about it in my waking existence, you normally would expect any such type of gigantic insects appearing in a dream to have claws and fangs and be flying around attacking and biting and killing people and beating them to death with their massive wings and feasting on their blood and flesh and people are running around screaming and panicking and CNN reporters are being trampled and some even offered up sacrificially and it all probably looks fantastic on a wide-screen HDTV and hey honey make some more popcorn willya please Spielberg has really outdone himself this time! (Okay, I just went all-out Mark Morford there with the run-on and all the 'and's and shit. My apologies if you hate that sort of thing. But how could you?)
[The pic I had *was* damn-near perfect. Mothra makes a passable replacement.]
But no, these were gentle, happy, playful, friendly giant Monarchs. (Hey, I just figured it out. Friendly giants! I use to love the "Friendly Giant" on the CBC as a kid. Ahh, warm, fuzzy memories...) And they would joyfully hop around the yard...well, only about a third to a half of them at a time, it seemed. Most of the rest were quietly napping in the trees, and a few were feeding on flowers here and there. (Maybe somewhere deep in the innermost parts of the canopies there was some mating going on, I imagined, but the rest were shielding anyone's view. Prudes. Maybe I like to watch? Come on, let me see some hot giant-butterfly sex. I mean, I've been sitting here half the day by now, I'm starting to get just a bit bored out here. Even I have my limits.)
[The late great Bob "The Friendly Giant" Homme]
Anyhoo, the rest were hopping around the yard all festive-like and making an almost-inaudible (and for the moment indistinguishable) sort of boinging sound, like a happy little flock of hyperactive orange-and-black-winged sheep on a giant yard-sized trampoline ("Shiny happy Monarchs hopping 'round..."), and it was just about that time some PBS nature-show host dude showed up and asked permission to film on my premises, to which I gladly obliged. I'm not sure, it may have been one of the Attenboroughs, don't ask me which one, Probably whichever one is still alive. Or maybe the dead one? I dunno. Whatever. It's not important.
[Caption: "This monarch butterfly is jumping on a trampoline. It planted a vine on a trellis."]
So he helpfully explains to me that although they are all roughly the same size, the ones resting in the trees are the adults and the ones hopping around on the ground are the youngsters. The very young are noticeably smaller, but are harder to spot since they are up in the trees with their parents.
Then he asks if I would like to know how to sex them? (I forget what my hilariously quick-witted response was, but if you know me well enough, you know it had to be side-splitting.) Well anyway, he then advises that if I listen carefully to their individual little quiet boinging sounds, that there are two distinct types: the males make a boinging sound that sounds sort of like the word 'port', while the female boing sounds sort of like the word 'point'.
This is the sort of thing you just don't notice under any circumstances until someone points ('point's?) it out to you, then you can't NOT notice it. You can't escape it. (Like when you see the same painting on a wall for years, and then one day you notice a dog's face in one of the clouds that you never noticed before, after which it's always the very first thing you see in the picture.) So now it's almost as if I am being deafened by all these softly quiet little 'port's and 'point's in my backyard. Can you imagine the sound? Can you imagine the sight! And the sound? Together? Whoa. These are some good drugs I'm on, man.
[Clearly this is not the painting I meant.]
He also 'point's (sorry, I can't help it) out that the females' hop averages out to be, for all practical purposes, exactly twice as high as the males'. This is indeed apparent. This is the kind of astuteness we have all, I think, come to expect from our PBS nature-show hosts. But what I learned next really surprised me.
In a jive-ass attempt to make myself seem like a know-it-all, I mention a casual observation I have just...well, observed: Some of the youngsters were play-chasing each other around the perimeter of the yard, and I noticed that the males' hop seemed to average out to be, for all practical purposes, exactly twice the distance of the females'. This was not readily noticeable on one's initial observation of the majority of a flock of giant Monarchs hopping around your yard en masse like a sort of lepidopteral Woodstock. An insect rave. A Monarch mosh pit!
I also observed a distinct difference in the frequency of hops between them. My ear just happened to pick out, at one particular moment, one of each gender hopping near me, and oddly enough, for every hop the female made, the male made two hops. And though they weren't actually interacting in any observable way, from my vantage point they seemed to have a rhythm going with each other. As luck would have it, they were perfectly synched. I'm not sure if I can approximate it here in text, but I'll try. The two sounds side by side were sort of like this:
"Portportportportportportportport..."
"Point.....point.....point.....point....."
...which, when observed, called to mind for me an old Pepe LePew cartoon, where he's steadily hopping along in pursuit of the cat. Only here the genders were reversed. And the two I heard weren't actually chasing each other, but the sound was definitely there.
Thus, the difference in hop frequency plus the difference in hop distance meant that the males traveled 4 times as fast as the females. (I think this ratio may also apply, in reverse of course, to the Pepe LePew cartoons.) And shockingly, the host dude had never noticed any of this. Apparently, no one else had ever noticed it either. I was the first! Where then, I thought, were my PBS dollars going? None of these jackoffs ever noticed something so seemingly obvious? "What the fuck are they paying you idiots for?!" I almost screamed.
"You're kidding," I actually said.
Later in the day, after the 'port'ing and 'point'ing had mostly died down and the camera crew had left, I spotted one of the smaller Monarchs that had just fallen out of the tree near the back corner of the yard. It had landed on its back with its wings spread out, and it was stuck there like a turtle, kicking its legs in the air. I hurried out and righted it.
It was a bit shaken so I petted it and comforted it, "There you go, little one, you're okay now," and it was obviously very grateful and started purring like a cat and sort of rubbing against my leg. "Careful," I cautioned, "you don't want to rub your scales off." I petted it some more and scritched its chin (it wasn't old enough to hop around yet, so I don't know what gender it was). Then I carefully picked it up and put it back up in the tree with its parents, who also seemed grateful.
Finally, around sunset, the flock gradually took off, a few at a time, and among the last to take off were the little one I helped and its parents. Just before they took flight, the parents looked back at me and seemed to nod in gratitude for my help and hospitality. My heart was warmed.
Then, the little one, before taking off behind them, looked back and, with just the very tip of one of its wings, waved to me as if to say "Thank you for letting us stay in your yard for the day! Bye-bye!" It was almost like some sappy-ass Disney movie or something. All that was missing was some lame Elton John ballad. And much as I hate to admit it, I got a little misty-eyed. But it WAS quite a touching moment.
[So I search for Elton John photos and I find this gem. Caption: "If Elton John was a poodle..."]
"Bye, little one," I waved back. "Maybe I'll get to host your descendants next year!"
[Noel says: "'Monarch waving' brought up the following:"]
So I'll bet you're wondering just what the fuck I had for dinner the night I had this dream. I'm not sure, but I believe it was leftover Long John Silver's fish (shaped like Nevada) re-fried in bacon grease. There you go. Good luck inducing your own giant Monarch dreams, if you dare! (And be sure not to miss the excellent footage of giant butterflies hopping around in my backyard, coming soon to PBS. Check local listings.)
[You might want to stock up on antacids]
[Left pic is a replacement]
I am not a normal man.
[Noel says: "No, you're not."]
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
UPDATES COMING SOONER THAN YOU THINK
Almost there...wait for it...by the end of this week if I don't choke...
I've got a wonderfully bizarre dream to tell you all about, and I am considering the following tweaks to this here Pond thingy:
First off, I gotta add a nice official-looking link to the new blog by my pal the Noelomite. For now, this should suffice. (BTW I've asked Noel to help me punch up my upcoming post about my aforementioned dream, borrowing from the style of his blog [as in lots of odd pics sprinkled throughout]) This should be fun.
I also would like to compartmentalize things a bit, such as moving local band name lists to the band names blog, and moving the karaoke updates to the 'ducksoupkaraoke' blog along with the list of the 350+ songs I've done. Also the KUs will be streamlined: the specific dates and locations of my karaoke appearances will no longer be included.
The reason for this is so that certain persons will not know where or when I will turn up to sing songs like "Jagged Little Parody". I have recently switched to 1st shift, so all my nights are free now, and I have an accomplice to get around to different places. (And there's no guarantee I'll be safely tucked away in certain places on certain nights. I could turn up anywhere at anytime.)
Almost there...wait for it...by the end of this week if I don't choke...
I've got a wonderfully bizarre dream to tell you all about, and I am considering the following tweaks to this here Pond thingy:
First off, I gotta add a nice official-looking link to the new blog by my pal the Noelomite. For now, this should suffice. (BTW I've asked Noel to help me punch up my upcoming post about my aforementioned dream, borrowing from the style of his blog [as in lots of odd pics sprinkled throughout]) This should be fun.
I also would like to compartmentalize things a bit, such as moving local band name lists to the band names blog, and moving the karaoke updates to the 'ducksoupkaraoke' blog along with the list of the 350+ songs I've done. Also the KUs will be streamlined: the specific dates and locations of my karaoke appearances will no longer be included.
The reason for this is so that certain persons will not know where or when I will turn up to sing songs like "Jagged Little Parody". I have recently switched to 1st shift, so all my nights are free now, and I have an accomplice to get around to different places. (And there's no guarantee I'll be safely tucked away in certain places on certain nights. I could turn up anywhere at anytime.)
Thursday, June 23, 2005
KARAOKE RECAP: WEDNESDAY, JUNE 22, *SECRET LOCATION*, 4 SONGS
Dare To Be Stupid--Weird Al Yankovic--Tougher to breathe through than I remember.
The Long And Winding Road--The Beatles--Wanted to impress any cute gals present, and most of my other money songs (i.e. "Outside") were not in the book.
Marijuanaville--David Allan Coe--Sans the bong sound effect. But had a new crowd to play to. (Unfortunately for me, I had to follow Noel stealing Prince's "Kiss" from Sam, during which he started dancing in the middle of the song and took an hilarious but rather scary-looking fall, but got up just in time to start singing again. Crowd went wild. Upstaging bastid.)
Jagged Little Parody--Ducksoup--And this is why I am not disclosing the location. Felt sooooo good to bring it back out. The crowd here was a bit stunned when I finished, and I'm told I got quite a few evil looks when I dropped the good ol' C-bomb. Ahh, sweet, delicious controversy! You never know when or where I'll strike next! No karaoke spot in the Toledo area is safe! Beware my wrath! MUWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
Dare To Be Stupid--Weird Al Yankovic--Tougher to breathe through than I remember.
The Long And Winding Road--The Beatles--Wanted to impress any cute gals present, and most of my other money songs (i.e. "Outside") were not in the book.
Marijuanaville--David Allan Coe--Sans the bong sound effect. But had a new crowd to play to. (Unfortunately for me, I had to follow Noel stealing Prince's "Kiss" from Sam, during which he started dancing in the middle of the song and took an hilarious but rather scary-looking fall, but got up just in time to start singing again. Crowd went wild. Upstaging bastid.)
Jagged Little Parody--Ducksoup--And this is why I am not disclosing the location. Felt sooooo good to bring it back out. The crowd here was a bit stunned when I finished, and I'm told I got quite a few evil looks when I dropped the good ol' C-bomb. Ahh, sweet, delicious controversy! You never know when or where I'll strike next! No karaoke spot in the Toledo area is safe! Beware my wrath! MUWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
KARAOKE RECAPS: JUNE 8-20
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 8, CENTRE COURT, 5 SONGS
Green Haze--Elvis Hitler--Didn't add anything new this time, I think I've got it down.
Schiavo--Steve Dahl--Went well considering how out-of-date it is now.
Star Wars Cantina--Mark Jonathan Davis--Duet with Noel. We do our best to fill the 56-measure break, but we got lots more to add.
NEW--Waiting On A Sunny Day--Bruce Springsteen--A rarity: A song PKE doesn't have. Yet.
One More Minute--Weird Al Yankovic--Anymore, whether or not I do this one depends on if I can get a fork.
SATURDAY, JUNE 11, MUTZ, 3 SONGS
NEW--Interstate Love Song--Stone Temple Pilots--Heard it on the radio, pulled it out of my Need-its.
NEW--The Truth About Men--Tracy Byrd--Stole it from Doug. The truth is I blew it. Need more practice.
One More Minute--Weird Al Yankovic--I'm thinking about adding more props along with the fork...a rolodex to pull a name out of, a picture of the ex to tear in two, and maybe a little scale model of a malt shop to set on fire.
MONDAY, JUNE 13, SOUTHWYCK LOUNGE, 3 SONGS
NEW--Soul To Squeeze--Red Hot Chili Peppers--Last of a small group of Need-its I wanted to finish off.
Green Haze--Elvis Hitler--Back by popular demand. Well, by Micki's demand, anyway.
The Long And Winding Road--The Beatles--The Drama Queen strikes again.
SATURDAY, JUNE 18, MUTZ, 2 SONGS
Arrived late due to going to Flat Rock for Schoolbus Figure 8's with the Noelomite. D-Bizzle was also late but called ahead and had someone else turn in a slip for him before he got there. Now we can truly say the little bitch phones it in. (Just kidding Dusty, you know we love ya.) Noel and I could have done the same, but we'd risk missing our turn, and besides, I personally would consider that cheating. (And I wouldn't want anyone saying I phone it in.)
NEW--How's Your Whole Family--Red Peters--The PKE book is so full of hidden treasures!
Brain Damage/Eclipse--Pink Floyd--Saw Wish You Were Here, an excellent Pink Floyd tribute band, the night before, so I had to whip out some Floydage.
MONDAY, JUNE 20, SOUTHWYCK LOUNGE, 2 SONGS
How's Your Whole Family--Red Peters--See above.
Wish You Were Here--Pink Floyd--See above.
WEDNESDAY, JUNE 8, CENTRE COURT, 5 SONGS
Green Haze--Elvis Hitler--Didn't add anything new this time, I think I've got it down.
Schiavo--Steve Dahl--Went well considering how out-of-date it is now.
Star Wars Cantina--Mark Jonathan Davis--Duet with Noel. We do our best to fill the 56-measure break, but we got lots more to add.
NEW--Waiting On A Sunny Day--Bruce Springsteen--A rarity: A song PKE doesn't have. Yet.
One More Minute--Weird Al Yankovic--Anymore, whether or not I do this one depends on if I can get a fork.
SATURDAY, JUNE 11, MUTZ, 3 SONGS
NEW--Interstate Love Song--Stone Temple Pilots--Heard it on the radio, pulled it out of my Need-its.
NEW--The Truth About Men--Tracy Byrd--Stole it from Doug. The truth is I blew it. Need more practice.
One More Minute--Weird Al Yankovic--I'm thinking about adding more props along with the fork...a rolodex to pull a name out of, a picture of the ex to tear in two, and maybe a little scale model of a malt shop to set on fire.
MONDAY, JUNE 13, SOUTHWYCK LOUNGE, 3 SONGS
NEW--Soul To Squeeze--Red Hot Chili Peppers--Last of a small group of Need-its I wanted to finish off.
Green Haze--Elvis Hitler--Back by popular demand. Well, by Micki's demand, anyway.
The Long And Winding Road--The Beatles--The Drama Queen strikes again.
SATURDAY, JUNE 18, MUTZ, 2 SONGS
Arrived late due to going to Flat Rock for Schoolbus Figure 8's with the Noelomite. D-Bizzle was also late but called ahead and had someone else turn in a slip for him before he got there. Now we can truly say the little bitch phones it in. (Just kidding Dusty, you know we love ya.) Noel and I could have done the same, but we'd risk missing our turn, and besides, I personally would consider that cheating. (And I wouldn't want anyone saying I phone it in.)
NEW--How's Your Whole Family--Red Peters--The PKE book is so full of hidden treasures!
Brain Damage/Eclipse--Pink Floyd--Saw Wish You Were Here, an excellent Pink Floyd tribute band, the night before, so I had to whip out some Floydage.
MONDAY, JUNE 20, SOUTHWYCK LOUNGE, 2 SONGS
How's Your Whole Family--Red Peters--See above.
Wish You Were Here--Pink Floyd--See above.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
TOP TEN BEST BAND NAMES PLAYING THE TOLEDO AREA THIS WEEK (JUN 16-22)
Yes, for once there's enough to rank the top ten!
10. Between Home And Serenity--tonight at Howards Club H
9. Silence In The Wake--Friday at Happy Badger
8. Hidden In Plain View--tonight at Headliners
7. Sofa King Cool--Wednesday at Augie's
6. Those Transatlantics--Friday at Happy Badger
5. Angry Pill--Fri & Sat at Upper Deck
4. Scary Kids--tonight at Howards Club H
3. Clumsy Lovers--Friday at Mickey Finn's Pub
2. Quit Your Life--Friday at Happy Badger
And the best band name playing the Toledo area this week...
1. The Motel Beds--tonight at Mickey Finn's Pub
Yes, for once there's enough to rank the top ten!
10. Between Home And Serenity--tonight at Howards Club H
9. Silence In The Wake--Friday at Happy Badger
8. Hidden In Plain View--tonight at Headliners
7. Sofa King Cool--Wednesday at Augie's
6. Those Transatlantics--Friday at Happy Badger
5. Angry Pill--Fri & Sat at Upper Deck
4. Scary Kids--tonight at Howards Club H
3. Clumsy Lovers--Friday at Mickey Finn's Pub
2. Quit Your Life--Friday at Happy Badger
And the best band name playing the Toledo area this week...
1. The Motel Beds--tonight at Mickey Finn's Pub
Friday, June 10, 2005
BEST BAND NAMES PLAYING THE TOLEDO AREA THIS WEEK (JUN 10-16)
Deadbeat Moms--Friday at Underground
Don't Ask--Fri & Sat at Bluebird
After Trust Is Betrayed--Saturday at Underground
As Cities Burn--Saturday at Underground
Courageous Minority--Saturday at Mickey Finn's Pub
Bear Essentials--Wednesday at Papa's Tavern
Free Beer--Wednesday at Augie's
And the best band name playing the Toledo area this week...
Doug's Brother--Monday at Casa Barron
Deadbeat Moms--Friday at Underground
Don't Ask--Fri & Sat at Bluebird
After Trust Is Betrayed--Saturday at Underground
As Cities Burn--Saturday at Underground
Courageous Minority--Saturday at Mickey Finn's Pub
Bear Essentials--Wednesday at Papa's Tavern
Free Beer--Wednesday at Augie's
And the best band name playing the Toledo area this week...
Doug's Brother--Monday at Casa Barron
Tuesday, June 07, 2005
KARAOKE RECAPS: MAY 19-JUNE 6
[Note: Due to technical difficulties, I lost a few weeks worth of karaoke recaps.]
THURSDAY, MAY 19, MUTZ, 7 SONGS
Star Wars Cantina--Mark Jonathan Davis, The Saga Begins--Weird Al Yankovic, Yoda--Weird Al Yankovic--All duets with Noel. We were fresh from seeing Ep 3. Had to do 'em all. The 56 measure break during "Cantina" is ridiculous. We can only quote the movies so many times! Bumped "Saga" down a key, and "Yoda" down 3 keys.
One More Minute--Weird Al Yankovic--19th time singing it, it's now my all-time leader.
Marijuanaville--David Alan Coe--Received a nice compliment for my off-stage bong hit bit.
NEW--Gay Wedding--Ducksoup--Reworking of Billy Idol's "White Wedding". Duet with David. A couple of months ago he did this with his then-boyfriend, I suggested the change at the last second, and they went with it. This time we changed a few more lyrics, so I'll count it as one of my parodies. I'm no Jon Ginoli, but I do my best.
Man! I Love Karaoke!--Ducksoup--Requested by Noel. Hadn't sung this since last summer. I've been wanting to update some of the references, but I only had the original lyrics on me. Good reception, except for some D.C. right up front who heckled me throughout. I so wanted to kick the bitch in the fucking teeth! It's called a PARODY, you retard! Weird Al made a career of it. Rent a clue!
SATURDAY, MAY 21, MUTZ, 5 SONGS
It's Been Awhile--Staind--Wanted to start the night with one I hadn't done for awhile. Noel picked the obvious.
Drinkin' Bone--Tracy Byrd--Another I hadn't done for awhile.
Volcano--Jimmy Buffett--Yet another I hadn't done for awhile. Then again, I haven't done "Margaritaville" for awhile either. Been too busy doing "Marijuanaville".
Love Shack--The B-52's--Duet with Rachael and Alesha. Best rendition of this one yet. Sadly it wasn't enough to get me and Sam in their pants...
Outside (acoustic)--Staind--...which was probably because Micki totally threw a cockblock during this song. (I won't go into details. Suffice to say, I will have my revenge.) I nailed it as usual anyway.
MONDAY, MAY 23, SOUTHWYCK LOUNGE, 2 SONGS
NEW--Garden Party--Ricky Nelson--Picked two new songs to bump my total to 299, in prep for #300, which hopefully will be "Almost" by Bowling For Soup. Get it? 300? Bowling? Gosh, but I'm a clever bastid. If only they had "Take The Skinheads Bowling".
NEW--The Long And Winding Road--The Beatles--Gotta do this one more often. Ended up in a high EVV, but it works. Also further indulges my 'inner drama queen' along with Radiohead and Staind.
SATURDAY, MAY 28, MUTZ, 6 SONGS
Fish Heads--Barnes And Barnes--Duet with Noel. He found it in the book and insisted on opening the night with it. He took the verses, and I of course did my fish head voice on the refrain.
The Long And Winding Road--The Beatles--Drama queen time!
Somewhere Out There--Our Lady Peace--Right at the edge of my high limit, but I nailed it.
Marijuanaville--David Allan Coe--Kay was there, and last time she was there we dueted on "Rainy Day Women #12 & 35" so I had to let her hear this one.
Fake Plastic Trees--Radiohead--This was for Levi, who is moving out of state, so this was his last Saturday at Mutz. I ran the show the last 2 hours, so I made sure to sked Levi as the last singer, and skedded myself next-to-last so I could pass a personal milestone: my 300th different song...
NEW--Take The Skinheads Bowling--Camper Van Beethoven--Turns out they DO have it! But it's mistakenly listed under V for "Van Beethoven", as if it were a person's name. Oy. Anyhoo, worked very well. There were a couple of guys near the 'stage' with shaved heads and they both got into the song, so that was a nice bonus.
MONDAY, MAY 30, SOUTHWYCK LOUNGE, 3 SONGS
Take The Skinheads Bowling--Camper Van Beethoven--An encore of #300 for the SWL crowd.
NEW--Runnin' Down A Dream--Tom Petty--Couldn't decide on #301. Set out a few slips, Micki picked this one. I was gonna keep doing the 'woo-oo's at the end, but after a minute or two Micki got tired of them and just stopped the song cold. I was like, "Hey, you picked it!"
NEW--Under The Bridge--Red Hot Chili Peppers--#302. It's about damn time I got around to this. Of course, unlike everyone else I've heard do this, I do the ridiculously high, reminiscent-of-my-mom "UNDER THE BRIDGE DOWNTOWN!!!" part near the end. Since I did the rest of the song straight, this was nicely jarring to everyone listening.
FRIDAY, JUNE 3, BIER STUBE, 4 SONGS
NEW--Green Haze--Elvis Hitler--My tribute to Eddie Albert, who died the week before. It's simply the music of "Purple Haze" combined with the lyrics to the "Green Acres" theme song. Went okay for the first time.
One More Minute--Weird Al Yankovic--One of my nephews and his wife showed up, so I wanted to finally whip out some of my A material for relatives. Had to use a real fork instead of a plastic one this time, which concerned me some, but I did get the nice, satisfying sound of it bouncing off whatever it hit when I tossed it.
You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin'--The Righteous Brothers--Duet with Noel. Fat Bastard put this in but then didn't show for his turn, so we got drafted. Not bad, but Noel needs to practice it some before we try it again.
NEW--Feel Like Making Love--Bad Company--These three guys called me up to help out on it, at first I did backing vocals and improvised some harmony parts, but by the end of the song they had me doing the lead, so let's count this as #304.
SATURDAY, JUNE 4, MUTZ, 3 SONGS
NEW--Another One Rides The Bus--Weird Al Yankovic--After my 8-hour TARTA odyssey (see previous post) I had to do this. However, the track was completely fucked up. Not a complete surprise, as it turns out it's from the same disc as the fucked up track to "She Drives Like Crazy" and the fucked up lyrics on "Yoda" (i.e. Obi-Juan). Note to self: Avoid songs numbered 860-**.
Detachable Penis--King Missile--A bachelorette party had a 5-foot-tall inflatable penis in tow, and they graciously let me use it as a prop during this song. I gotta say, of all the partners I've teamed up with in my karaoke history, this was the most successful, best-received pairing ever. They asked me to sign it too, so I graced it with my usual Kilroy, right in my own personal favorite spot.
Green Haze--Elvis Hitler--This time, I added an alternate version of the first verse during the second half of the song, borrowing the Stiffs.com blurb. Concept: If we could hear Eddie singing to us from beyond: "Green Acres *was* the place to be | Farm living *was* the life for me | But my friends, now that I have died | Keep Manhattan, just give me formaldehyde."
Bad night for me. Didn't get any songs in after 12. Just sat around the rest of the night sweating.
MONDAY, JUNE 6, SOUTHWYCK LOUNGE, 2 SONGS
NEW--Give A Little Bit--Supertramp/Goo Goo Dolls--Had 3 new songs to pick from, put it to popular vote. Not bad, but not great either.
Green Haze--Elvis Hitler--Added a couple more elements: Traced a square in the air on the "Times Square" line; did the pitchfork take (Bomp bomp) with the mic stand at one point; and after one more "Green Acres, we are there" toward the end, I reworked a line from "Are You Experienced": "Not necessarily green, but...beautiful." This is getting so good I might just keep it in my regular rotation.
[Note: Due to technical difficulties, I lost a few weeks worth of karaoke recaps.]
THURSDAY, MAY 19, MUTZ, 7 SONGS
Star Wars Cantina--Mark Jonathan Davis, The Saga Begins--Weird Al Yankovic, Yoda--Weird Al Yankovic--All duets with Noel. We were fresh from seeing Ep 3. Had to do 'em all. The 56 measure break during "Cantina" is ridiculous. We can only quote the movies so many times! Bumped "Saga" down a key, and "Yoda" down 3 keys.
One More Minute--Weird Al Yankovic--19th time singing it, it's now my all-time leader.
Marijuanaville--David Alan Coe--Received a nice compliment for my off-stage bong hit bit.
NEW--Gay Wedding--Ducksoup--Reworking of Billy Idol's "White Wedding". Duet with David. A couple of months ago he did this with his then-boyfriend, I suggested the change at the last second, and they went with it. This time we changed a few more lyrics, so I'll count it as one of my parodies. I'm no Jon Ginoli, but I do my best.
Man! I Love Karaoke!--Ducksoup--Requested by Noel. Hadn't sung this since last summer. I've been wanting to update some of the references, but I only had the original lyrics on me. Good reception, except for some D.C. right up front who heckled me throughout. I so wanted to kick the bitch in the fucking teeth! It's called a PARODY, you retard! Weird Al made a career of it. Rent a clue!
SATURDAY, MAY 21, MUTZ, 5 SONGS
It's Been Awhile--Staind--Wanted to start the night with one I hadn't done for awhile. Noel picked the obvious.
Drinkin' Bone--Tracy Byrd--Another I hadn't done for awhile.
Volcano--Jimmy Buffett--Yet another I hadn't done for awhile. Then again, I haven't done "Margaritaville" for awhile either. Been too busy doing "Marijuanaville".
Love Shack--The B-52's--Duet with Rachael and Alesha. Best rendition of this one yet. Sadly it wasn't enough to get me and Sam in their pants...
Outside (acoustic)--Staind--...which was probably because Micki totally threw a cockblock during this song. (I won't go into details. Suffice to say, I will have my revenge.) I nailed it as usual anyway.
MONDAY, MAY 23, SOUTHWYCK LOUNGE, 2 SONGS
NEW--Garden Party--Ricky Nelson--Picked two new songs to bump my total to 299, in prep for #300, which hopefully will be "Almost" by Bowling For Soup. Get it? 300? Bowling? Gosh, but I'm a clever bastid. If only they had "Take The Skinheads Bowling".
NEW--The Long And Winding Road--The Beatles--Gotta do this one more often. Ended up in a high EVV, but it works. Also further indulges my 'inner drama queen' along with Radiohead and Staind.
SATURDAY, MAY 28, MUTZ, 6 SONGS
Fish Heads--Barnes And Barnes--Duet with Noel. He found it in the book and insisted on opening the night with it. He took the verses, and I of course did my fish head voice on the refrain.
The Long And Winding Road--The Beatles--Drama queen time!
Somewhere Out There--Our Lady Peace--Right at the edge of my high limit, but I nailed it.
Marijuanaville--David Allan Coe--Kay was there, and last time she was there we dueted on "Rainy Day Women #12 & 35" so I had to let her hear this one.
Fake Plastic Trees--Radiohead--This was for Levi, who is moving out of state, so this was his last Saturday at Mutz. I ran the show the last 2 hours, so I made sure to sked Levi as the last singer, and skedded myself next-to-last so I could pass a personal milestone: my 300th different song...
NEW--Take The Skinheads Bowling--Camper Van Beethoven--Turns out they DO have it! But it's mistakenly listed under V for "Van Beethoven", as if it were a person's name. Oy. Anyhoo, worked very well. There were a couple of guys near the 'stage' with shaved heads and they both got into the song, so that was a nice bonus.
MONDAY, MAY 30, SOUTHWYCK LOUNGE, 3 SONGS
Take The Skinheads Bowling--Camper Van Beethoven--An encore of #300 for the SWL crowd.
NEW--Runnin' Down A Dream--Tom Petty--Couldn't decide on #301. Set out a few slips, Micki picked this one. I was gonna keep doing the 'woo-oo's at the end, but after a minute or two Micki got tired of them and just stopped the song cold. I was like, "Hey, you picked it!"
NEW--Under The Bridge--Red Hot Chili Peppers--#302. It's about damn time I got around to this. Of course, unlike everyone else I've heard do this, I do the ridiculously high, reminiscent-of-my-mom "UNDER THE BRIDGE DOWNTOWN!!!" part near the end. Since I did the rest of the song straight, this was nicely jarring to everyone listening.
FRIDAY, JUNE 3, BIER STUBE, 4 SONGS
NEW--Green Haze--Elvis Hitler--My tribute to Eddie Albert, who died the week before. It's simply the music of "Purple Haze" combined with the lyrics to the "Green Acres" theme song. Went okay for the first time.
One More Minute--Weird Al Yankovic--One of my nephews and his wife showed up, so I wanted to finally whip out some of my A material for relatives. Had to use a real fork instead of a plastic one this time, which concerned me some, but I did get the nice, satisfying sound of it bouncing off whatever it hit when I tossed it.
You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin'--The Righteous Brothers--Duet with Noel. Fat Bastard put this in but then didn't show for his turn, so we got drafted. Not bad, but Noel needs to practice it some before we try it again.
NEW--Feel Like Making Love--Bad Company--These three guys called me up to help out on it, at first I did backing vocals and improvised some harmony parts, but by the end of the song they had me doing the lead, so let's count this as #304.
SATURDAY, JUNE 4, MUTZ, 3 SONGS
NEW--Another One Rides The Bus--Weird Al Yankovic--After my 8-hour TARTA odyssey (see previous post) I had to do this. However, the track was completely fucked up. Not a complete surprise, as it turns out it's from the same disc as the fucked up track to "She Drives Like Crazy" and the fucked up lyrics on "Yoda" (i.e. Obi-Juan). Note to self: Avoid songs numbered 860-**.
Detachable Penis--King Missile--A bachelorette party had a 5-foot-tall inflatable penis in tow, and they graciously let me use it as a prop during this song. I gotta say, of all the partners I've teamed up with in my karaoke history, this was the most successful, best-received pairing ever. They asked me to sign it too, so I graced it with my usual Kilroy, right in my own personal favorite spot.
Green Haze--Elvis Hitler--This time, I added an alternate version of the first verse during the second half of the song, borrowing the Stiffs.com blurb. Concept: If we could hear Eddie singing to us from beyond: "Green Acres *was* the place to be | Farm living *was* the life for me | But my friends, now that I have died | Keep Manhattan, just give me formaldehyde."
Bad night for me. Didn't get any songs in after 12. Just sat around the rest of the night sweating.
MONDAY, JUNE 6, SOUTHWYCK LOUNGE, 2 SONGS
NEW--Give A Little Bit--Supertramp/Goo Goo Dolls--Had 3 new songs to pick from, put it to popular vote. Not bad, but not great either.
Green Haze--Elvis Hitler--Added a couple more elements: Traced a square in the air on the "Times Square" line; did the pitchfork take (Bomp bomp) with the mic stand at one point; and after one more "Green Acres, we are there" toward the end, I reworked a line from "Are You Experienced": "Not necessarily green, but...beautiful." This is getting so good I might just keep it in my regular rotation.
ANOTHER ONE RIDES THE BUS
A rough timeline of my Saturday afternoon trip to Franklin Park Mall this past weekend to get a card and a gift for my karaoke buddy Noel's birthday.
12:00--I leave the house to catch the 32. It's several minutes late, but on a warm spring weekend that's to be expected.
12:30--I'm at the 12:20 lineup downtown. I go to get on the 2, but it looks a bit crowded, so I opt to go look for the 22. Once at the 22's block, I overhear a driver telling another passenger that the 22 broke down on the way downtown, so it's running even later than the rest of the fleet. I momentarily consider going back to the 2, but they break the lineup without the 22. Since I have time to kill and about a week's worth of newspapers to read, I decide to wait for the 22.
1:00--Noel calls from the library. If I'd remembered he was going to be over there I'd have gone over to hang with him for a bit and escape the 90-degree heat. No sign of the 22 yet.
1:30--I've been sitting in hot, humid, downtown Toledo for an hour with nothing to do but read the paper. Still no 22. I've gotten through about 2 days of papers waiting. A few minutes later, buses start arriving for the 1:30 lineup. The 22 finally shows up around 1:40. The lineup breaks around 1:45
2:15--I'm on the 22, arriving at Westgate. Once there, I get a bad feeling. When we start heading back toward Secor and Central, I realize it's a good thing I have so much paper to read and time to kill. I forgot the 22 doesn't continue on to FPM on weekends. Now I have to ride back downtown for the so-called "2:40" lineup.
3:00--I'm at the 2:40 lineup, finally on the 2, waiting to leave. Lineup breaks about 3:05.
3:10--On the 2, at Monroe and Collingwood. The bus has started to make an extremely loud beeping noise and has stalled out. The driver tries a couple of times to start it back up, but each time the beeping noise will not shut off.
3:20--By this time my fellow riders don't care if the damn thing keeps beeping, as long as it runs. Let's just get to where the heck we're going. The driver has radioed in for another bus, which will meet us at Monroe and Detroit.
3:25--We get to Monroe and Detroit, and proceed to wait for the other bus.
3:30--The other bus arrives. We make the switch and get back underway.
3:45--Somewhere around Monroe and Secor, the bus stalls out. After a minute it refires. Thankfully there's no beeping. Yet.
4:00--A full FOUR HOURS after leaving the house, I finally arrive at the mall. As I deboard the bus starts beeping. Poor driver. I text my pal Max, a TARTA savant, to tell him of my misadventures. He's too busy to talk, so rather than TM the whole story I wait until later when he's got a minute.
4:20--It's 4:20, so natch I go smoke a doob in the restroom. Just kidding. But with the day I've had up to that point, I probably could've used it!
4:25--I've gotten what I went there for in the first place (I'll tell you at the end), so I hit the food court to relax, have a bite, and do the crosswords and other puzzles I've saved from all the papers I've read through.
5:45--I head back out to the bus stop, find a shady spot to sit and wait and read more paper. Did I mention it was a 90-degree day?
6:00--Bus arrives. Same driver. Not sure if it's the same bus or not but all seems to be working well. We head downtown for the "6:10" lineup.
6:20--My eyes are tired from all the reading, so I decide to go ahead and send Max a series of TMs describing my day spent in the TARTA Twilight Zone. He can only laugh in repsonse, and I don't blame him. I kept laughing at my predicament throughout. Little did I know there was a Part Two coming, and it would not be as funny...
6:25--Monroe and Detroit. Bus starts making a slightly different beeping noise. Some of my fellow riders and I begin having flashbacks. It's not as loud this time and we're still moving, so we should be okay.
6:30--We're just about to pass the former Macomber (aka Make-'Em-Dumber) HS, a mere 2 or 3 minutes, mind you, from arriving at the lineup, when the driver tells us that the order has been given to break the lineup without us. The bus erupts in protest, but it's not our driver's fault. As we continue down Monroe, I can see all the way to Summit, where sure enough I can see some of the buses heading away from downtown, including my 32. The lineups have already been ridiculously late all day, would another 2 minutes have killed anyone? Whoever the dispatcher was who made this call ought to be horsewhipped. (And I had a bus full of volunteers.) The whole time I continue to TM Max, who started laughing at me even more at this point. Fucker.
6:33--Rather than sit downtown in the heat for an hour (as I had done once already), several of us decided to stay on the bus as she ran her 17 route, which she promised was shorter so we wouldn't miss the next lineup.
6:45--I have no choice but to regale my fellow riders with my tale of woe, just so they know that no matter how insane their day has now become, mine has been more so.
7:00--It was somewhere around this time that I really started to miss having my own wheels. Only natch...here I am, joyriding around, killing time, enjoying the AC, avoiding the heat...exactly what I'd be doing at that time on a day like this if I had wheels.
7:55--So after my leisurely 17 ride, and another late lineup, I am back on the 32 and in the homestretch. Noel calls to confirm picking me up for karaoke. "Buddy, have I got a story to tell you on the way!"
8:00--Back home at last. Never could I have imagined it would take me EIGHT HOURS to go across town to the mall and back. I could have hopped a Greyhound and gone to visit Willie in South Bend and gotten back sooner!
A rough timeline of my Saturday afternoon trip to Franklin Park Mall this past weekend to get a card and a gift for my karaoke buddy Noel's birthday.
12:00--I leave the house to catch the 32. It's several minutes late, but on a warm spring weekend that's to be expected.
12:30--I'm at the 12:20 lineup downtown. I go to get on the 2, but it looks a bit crowded, so I opt to go look for the 22. Once at the 22's block, I overhear a driver telling another passenger that the 22 broke down on the way downtown, so it's running even later than the rest of the fleet. I momentarily consider going back to the 2, but they break the lineup without the 22. Since I have time to kill and about a week's worth of newspapers to read, I decide to wait for the 22.
1:00--Noel calls from the library. If I'd remembered he was going to be over there I'd have gone over to hang with him for a bit and escape the 90-degree heat. No sign of the 22 yet.
1:30--I've been sitting in hot, humid, downtown Toledo for an hour with nothing to do but read the paper. Still no 22. I've gotten through about 2 days of papers waiting. A few minutes later, buses start arriving for the 1:30 lineup. The 22 finally shows up around 1:40. The lineup breaks around 1:45
2:15--I'm on the 22, arriving at Westgate. Once there, I get a bad feeling. When we start heading back toward Secor and Central, I realize it's a good thing I have so much paper to read and time to kill. I forgot the 22 doesn't continue on to FPM on weekends. Now I have to ride back downtown for the so-called "2:40" lineup.
3:00--I'm at the 2:40 lineup, finally on the 2, waiting to leave. Lineup breaks about 3:05.
3:10--On the 2, at Monroe and Collingwood. The bus has started to make an extremely loud beeping noise and has stalled out. The driver tries a couple of times to start it back up, but each time the beeping noise will not shut off.
3:20--By this time my fellow riders don't care if the damn thing keeps beeping, as long as it runs. Let's just get to where the heck we're going. The driver has radioed in for another bus, which will meet us at Monroe and Detroit.
3:25--We get to Monroe and Detroit, and proceed to wait for the other bus.
3:30--The other bus arrives. We make the switch and get back underway.
3:45--Somewhere around Monroe and Secor, the bus stalls out. After a minute it refires. Thankfully there's no beeping. Yet.
4:00--A full FOUR HOURS after leaving the house, I finally arrive at the mall. As I deboard the bus starts beeping. Poor driver. I text my pal Max, a TARTA savant, to tell him of my misadventures. He's too busy to talk, so rather than TM the whole story I wait until later when he's got a minute.
4:20--It's 4:20, so natch I go smoke a doob in the restroom. Just kidding. But with the day I've had up to that point, I probably could've used it!
4:25--I've gotten what I went there for in the first place (I'll tell you at the end), so I hit the food court to relax, have a bite, and do the crosswords and other puzzles I've saved from all the papers I've read through.
5:45--I head back out to the bus stop, find a shady spot to sit and wait and read more paper. Did I mention it was a 90-degree day?
6:00--Bus arrives. Same driver. Not sure if it's the same bus or not but all seems to be working well. We head downtown for the "6:10" lineup.
6:20--My eyes are tired from all the reading, so I decide to go ahead and send Max a series of TMs describing my day spent in the TARTA Twilight Zone. He can only laugh in repsonse, and I don't blame him. I kept laughing at my predicament throughout. Little did I know there was a Part Two coming, and it would not be as funny...
6:25--Monroe and Detroit. Bus starts making a slightly different beeping noise. Some of my fellow riders and I begin having flashbacks. It's not as loud this time and we're still moving, so we should be okay.
6:30--We're just about to pass the former Macomber (aka Make-'Em-Dumber) HS, a mere 2 or 3 minutes, mind you, from arriving at the lineup, when the driver tells us that the order has been given to break the lineup without us. The bus erupts in protest, but it's not our driver's fault. As we continue down Monroe, I can see all the way to Summit, where sure enough I can see some of the buses heading away from downtown, including my 32. The lineups have already been ridiculously late all day, would another 2 minutes have killed anyone? Whoever the dispatcher was who made this call ought to be horsewhipped. (And I had a bus full of volunteers.) The whole time I continue to TM Max, who started laughing at me even more at this point. Fucker.
6:33--Rather than sit downtown in the heat for an hour (as I had done once already), several of us decided to stay on the bus as she ran her 17 route, which she promised was shorter so we wouldn't miss the next lineup.
6:45--I have no choice but to regale my fellow riders with my tale of woe, just so they know that no matter how insane their day has now become, mine has been more so.
7:00--It was somewhere around this time that I really started to miss having my own wheels. Only natch...here I am, joyriding around, killing time, enjoying the AC, avoiding the heat...exactly what I'd be doing at that time on a day like this if I had wheels.
7:55--So after my leisurely 17 ride, and another late lineup, I am back on the 32 and in the homestretch. Noel calls to confirm picking me up for karaoke. "Buddy, have I got a story to tell you on the way!"
8:00--Back home at last. Never could I have imagined it would take me EIGHT HOURS to go across town to the mall and back. I could have hopped a Greyhound and gone to visit Willie in South Bend and gotten back sooner!
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