The Crickets Had A Good Time

Well, I played pretty well and the band I opened for and jammed with on their second set really enjoyed my tunes... only one problem.

A teensie tiny little problem.

A wee, infinitesimal issue with the whole night.

No one showed up to watch us play.

Now, supposedly, this band had someone promoting the gig - they passed out hundreds of flyers and there was theoretically a website pushing the show and the related costume party. Unfortunately, other than a few friends of mine (yes, I do have some - surprise) and friends of the other band, there was no one there. You could have listened to the crickets chirp between sets.

Of course, there were a few other related problems - it was a Friday night and this location is not exactly in the best part of town. I personally would not have played there, and certainly won't again. Let's just say, a concealed weapon is a good idea in this part of town. There is known crackhouse just 1.5 blocks away.

Parking. Yeah, there wasn't any. There was a lot across the street that is fenced in and you basically have to simply know how to get into it in order to park.

Did I mention how ghetto this location is? How about this? Just a few blocks away and a few days prior, there was a massive shooting at the downtown university. A number of people were slain. Yeah, that sounds like a fun place to go.

The fronting of this location leaves much to be desired - I drove by it three times before realizing where it was, and I'm usually pretty good at this sort of thing. Hell, I KNEW the address and missed it. What the hell?

Being Halloween weekend, there are just so many parties and costume contests at well-known venues, it is hard to compete with this struggling, just re-opening location.

Still, the second set jam was really fun and the few people there that actually DID show up, said they had a great time and thought we were awesome. So I guess that's something. Live and learn, I suppose.

Now, NEXT weekend? (Meaning, this coming weekend) I hope to have a very sizable crowd show up for the debut of Government Cheese, my band of 2 (at the moment). We'll see - hopefully there will be some good pics from THAT show.

Who knows? Web site and CD next?

Happy Halloween all!
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And I'm the Idiot?

I guess I finally did it. I posted a comment that pissed someone off. Of course, the comment was mostly tongue-in-cheek... but I guess I was too clever for my own good, or less clever than I apparently gave myself credit for.

Of course, the best part was that they went on to insult me and call me an

IDOIT

I am still trying to figure out what that is.. I think they wanted to call me an

IDIOT

But didn't know how to spell it... and you know how I feel about the language... well, you would if you've been reading this blog for a bit...

Aside from the obvious self-embarrassing possibilities of posting a flaming comment - I mean, countless other people are going to read the comment (and see how well our system of education works), right? Do they think these blogs exist in a vacuum and that messages written to a single person are only read by that one person?

And no, I won't name names, cause I certainly don't want to start a flame war... regardless of the fact that, as an elitist bastard that has a fair command of the language and loads of experience in old school flame wars - as in live action flaming - an activity my friends and I practiced and sharpened to a fine, razor's edge back in the days BEFORE Al Gore invented the internet. And that was live and off the cuff... now, give me time to THINK of something vile to say, and well... watch out. So, trust me, this isn't out of fear - I simply have better things to do with my time than insult someone who, really, just made themselves out to be an "idoit" or "idiot" or however you want to spell (or misspell) the word.

Now, I know this isn't exactly a skill set to be proud of, and really, I am just ranting right now because I was a bit put off about this retaliatory comment that was posted AT me; however, sometimes it is good to know that you can have a quick comeback with a soul-deflating insult when it is needed. Hell, this skill has saved my skin any number of times. If I ever get back to finishing PART 7 of the original Redneck Hoo Ha tale (and its subsequent follow-up) then you will see where it embarrassed a wannabe-assaulter of yours truly to the point where he simply left before I "taunted him a second time", to borrow a Monty Python phrase.

Ahh well, had to let that loose before I go get mentally set (or unbalanced) in order to play a gig tonight. I am opening for, get this,

Captain Mungo & His Caribou Armada


Hopefully, there will be pictures...

have a great and safe Halloween (party) weekend!
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HNT 9: Hammerin New Tunes

Here's my HNT product of the week. Not a great shot, but it was taken in the cold, in my workshop, at night, at band practice... Naturally, I added a little photoshop highlighting of the nice, ice cold beer in the background...

Got a light?

No, Bud Light... actually, it WAS a Bud Light, but I'm not here to advertise for them.

See how fast my fingers are flying across that fretboard? Wow, I must be AWESOME!! Right? Anyone?

For more Half-Nekkid Thursday details, go see the Wizard of Osbasso, the man who got the schlebobble rolling in the first place... and

Welcome to the HAPPY HNT-ing Grounds..

I'm a Man, Yes I Am

So is it a bad thing to be careful? As a male of this species we call human, though many of us fail to act so well, I have actually been in a few questionable situations... well, perhaps questionable is not entirely the right description. Perhaps... enviable is a better word.

Am I being too vague?

Well, I recall once, a long time ago, in a neighborhood far, far away (if you're the ant described in a previous post) - I had just started seeing this lovely young lady and we had entangled ourselves in a most pleasurable fashion, one about the other, limb upon limb... but there was no sex, let me make that absolutely clear.

Okay, so there was sex, but not according to ex-President Clinton...

Alright, there was at least some more than casual familiar groping, shall we say?

But we hadn't "DONE IT". In fact, it was quite early on in the process of seeing one another... and the mood, the setting, the passionate kissing, caressing, and fondling... well, it all set a mood of very much heightened sexual tension...

And then it became apparent that SHE WANTED MORE. In fact, she wanted ALL of it.

Now, I think I may have just failed my "man" test at that point because I, yes I, as in Wopanese, the half-Italian, said "No." At point blank range, no less.

Now, this wasn't the only time I have ever been in a position to say no... and it CERTAINLY wasn't for lack of desire, I can tell you that. That may have been the single most difficult word I have ever said. (Just remember, "I do" is TWO words...)

Here I was in this room, with this very attractive woman, with a lovely figure, soft skin with a light sheen of perspiration, breathily asking me for more, her hair in a state of disarray (which, to me, is VERY enticing, knowing how it got that way), looking at me with eyes hungry with desire, in a most delectable position, in a definite situation of "scoredom" and I just turned it down.

( Let me also make ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN that you understand that I was MOST DEFINITELY CAPABLE of going through with this. In fact, I was uncomfortably capable... I just wanted to make sure you understand that I am not in NEED of any assistance in this department... no pills, pumps, gels, or whatever else they've been spamming me with in emails is required. Okay?.. )

And yet I did. Or rather, didn't. I said, "No. Not now. It's too early."

To be quite honest, I've done this more than once. Am I simply a holdover of some long forgotten day that remembers that first night sex often leads to last night sex being the same night? Am I too willing to believe in something beyond the momentary pleasures of the physical? Am I just NOT typical? Am I far beyond the pale here in being what I consider to be a modern day Renaissance Man, chivalry and all? (Albeit a semi-neckish one?)

And what exactly does that make me?
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No, this wasn't recent - I was just thinking back to events "from a bygone era" and thought about it... what it means and says about me. What say you, friends and strangers?

Just a Few Questions...

• Why can't I simply beat up mean people that deserve it?
• How is it that I rode a bicycle throughout my childhood and survived... and am tougher as a result?
• Why do bananas turn black when you put them in the fridge? I thought the cold would preserve them...
• Why is it so difficult to write a decent blog entry and so easy to dish out crap like this?
• Has anyone else noticed how happy we are that gas prices are down under 3 bucks? I mean, they're still a solid 50 cents (in the US) higher per gallon than they were not long ago. Are we so easily duped and willing to be screwed?
• Okay, so yeah, all the men are definitely willing to be screwed, sure... but this is by rich guys, not pretty women. NOW are you so ready and willing, my fellow fellas? Thought not.
• Can I please smack people in the head who speed up and get in front of me... only to slow down until I have to pass them? Couldn't they have just gotten in behind me? I mean, I was likley passing them anyways.
• Please for that last one?
• Do people who talk on cell phones while driving, without even a headset, honestly think they are NOT getting distracted? I mean, I saw this lady holding a cell phone in one hand while gesticulating wildly with the other. This was NOT at a stop light - this was going down a major road during RUSH HOUR at over 45mph (that's about 72kph to you metro-meterals)... in an EXTRA large SUV. Ummm, can we say bad news for someone down the road? People like that make me very uncomfortable as I scoot about town in my lil Del Sol...
  
• In one respect, I have actually enjoyed the gas hike in prices. I've been evilly enjoying the expressions on their faces at the gas pump while I scoot by in the Del Sol getting 33/40mpg with the top down (except in the rain/cold). Yeah, like you really NEED that much space to get to and from work, right?
• So a golf handicap is a number? Wow. I always thought it was my swing.

I'd have more questions but the ones I am getting are at work so... hope for a better entry tomorrow. Tonight - band practice and try to hook up with this other band that wants me to play with them for Halloween. Hmm. Busy busy busy...

Me Me Monday add-on

I forgot what today was. Oops. SO without further ado, here we go for my first of, umm 101, Me-me Mondays:

10. I play guitar

Yep. I play. Got one at age... 10? Student model classical. I learned to play maybe 3 or 4 chords. Got an electric when I was 12 - this snazzy Degas Telecaster copy made by that fine Spanish company in Japan. Yeah, that's right. Spanish named copy of an American Fender guitar made by some of my distant relatives in the land of the Rising Sun, Japan. It wasn't much of a guitar but it had GREAT action. You guitar players out there know what I mean - and for you others, it has nothing to do with how many chicks a dude guitarist can score with.

I didn't play very regularly since I was always busy trying to hook up with the girlies when I hit high school. It was also very frustrating to be able to play a blazing blues/jazz solo on a trombone and not be able to do something at least half-assed on the guitar. I was in a band in high school - but played trombone and sang - we did beach, blues, jazz, and some other songs that have horn sections (Chicago, Earth Wind * Fire, Tower of Power) - we had a really solid horn section, I must say. Really.

Years later in college I started to play a bit more - particularly when my grandmother and sister passed away. At this point, I had gotten my eldest brother's old Yamaha classical guitar - and it had a really nice tone when I used D'Addario folk nylon strings on it. Wrote the second song I ever kept with that guitar, for the fiancee who would later destroy my world. (Oooh, ominous music). When I transferred to another school to finish my degreee, I took some fingerpicking classes... then I really didn't play much too much of either guitar OR trombone for the next few years. I scored a 1984 model Kramer Baretta for cheap, but didn't really play it much either. It wasn't until I met one of my very best and closest friends, Lisa, that this changed. She basically helped me reboot my creative self and bring it back online and she inspired me to play out. I played my very first open mic because of her support. It was then I got the Martin as a gift from her - talk about an incredible gift!

And since then I have been playing a whole lot more. I look back on all the years I have had a guitar and can only wonder just how good I could be had I taken more time, if only a half hour each day, and practiced. I would be pretty damned good now. Ahh well, what use regrets?

And if I ever get famous, I owe a lot to my buddy and executive assistant extraordinaire, Lisa - thanks so much!

What in the...

So I got a new pair of hiking boots last week. I wore them for the very first time last night. So, naturally, what happens? That's right. I stepped in a ninja-hidden, secret stash pile of dog crap.

Yeah.

You know, I don't quite understand what the deal is. I buy a new pair of shoes and within the first week of wearing them, there is a 2 in 3 chance of me stepping in a pile of dog crap.

What is it about me and new shoes that creates such a magnetic force for puppy poo? I'm not exaggerating here, people, it really happens. I could walk around a yard for months and months on end where a dog is regularly being allowed to take a dump, and nothing happens... nothing, that is, until I wear a new pair of shoes.

And why do they call it taking a dump/sh1t/crap anyway? It's not like you're removing it from the premises - you're LEAVING it there. I'm not going down that road - it's been far too well travelled.

On the plus side, I had my first paying solo gig this weekend past. It was for a small country club out in the, umm, country. It was a very small turnout for the social hour. Only 11 of the expected 30-40 people actually turned up. The new owner is hoping this will improve, of course. Now, he said he was very happy with my performance and paid me in full - I also managed to score 26 bucks in unasked for tips from the 11 people there, so I must have done SOMETHING right. Sweet.

Something struck me as very odd, though. Here is this successful businessman - he owns the country club and manages another, drives a Mercedes Kompressor (which left me and my Del Sol in the dust as I followed him for a couple of rounds after the show to discuss future gigs) - and he's telling me how talented and awesome I am. I've had a number of people tell me this at shows. It makes me, well, a bit uncomfortable. I mean, sure I love a good compliment as much as the next person, but I think I have a pretty good feel on how good or bad I play. I'm decent, I can play a little lead. I have good rhythm and I definitely give out a lot of energy. I sing pretty well and I think I can work a crowd better than the average bear. But awesome? Ummm, no. Trey Anastasio is awesome. Stevie Ray Vaughan was awesome. Me? I do okay. Maybe even an okay-plus sometimes, when I feel that "I am on". I'd say on a scale of 1-10, with horrible as 1, and Prince as a 9.5, Trey as a 9.8, Al DiMeola as a 9.9, etc... I think I'd give myself... a 6-7 score at best, on a good day, as a guitarist. Maybe an 7.5-8.5 as a singer. MAYBE. And that's only for the material I select, which I pick geared for me. As a funny guy, lead guy, front man, entertainer? I can get a little cocky and stretch into the high 8's or maybe a low 9... Yeah, I'm cocky about it. Shoot me now.

As if you care to know all this, right?

I think I would scare myself if I ever actually thought to believe all the hype. The point is, all this adulation simply made me uncomfortable - more than just a tiny bit creeped out. I'm decent and I think I put on a fun show... but awesome? Save that for the Jimi Hendix/Jimmy Page/Stevie Vai's of the world, cause I ain't there yet... and maybe never will be. I just don't want to become an a$$hole by getting that star mentality... EVER. Even I were to somehow get lucky (cause that's what it would take, honestly) and get discovered.

You know, I don't understand how can someone actually live with themselves getting that kind of a head on their shoulders. I really don't.

Luckily, my friend Lisa gave me a sweet reality check. I asked her about this whole thing and she told me something very believable and sensible - It's all a matter of perspective. Most of these people can't play any instrument and they also mostly can't sing. And I do both. I also give off a lot of energy when I play and I do it all moderately well... but to them, it is awesomely impressive. Hmm. Makes sense. Think of an ant looking up at a curb... I knew this answer, but forgot it in my creeped out state. Sue me. Of course, this ant at the curb top also knows here are plenty of taller buildings all around me.

Regardless, from an ant "all the way at the top of the curb" to all those impressed on the street: thank you for the kind words. But in reality, it's just a short climb up from you to me... a lot of people could get here with just a little practice.

HNT = Have Not Trimmed

Here I am, hair and all, in my screw-bicle at work.
Damn... I look like a *chick* from this angle. Why doesn't anyone tell me these things?

Ahh well, happy HNT - go see OSBASSO for details on how you too can join in on ALL the fun!

I just had to let you know that I am now the #1 MSN search result 0n, get this:

redneck magic booty hole

see:
...

Page 1 of 11,324 results containing redneck magic booty hole (0.10 seconds)

Results

• Redneck Hoo-ha

  ... What does this mean? BlogThis! Redneck Hoo-ha This blog all ... permission" to "play the a$$hole" to make sure he got home sober ... See Micky ache for some booty. See Bob squirm. See Bob confess... ...

  • redneckhooha.blogspot.com
  • Cached page

• Smack My Booty

  Smack My Booty: Politics, Movie Reviews

I just had to share. Hope to have something good to write tomorrow. Peace

My Apologies

There are people you know, people you call acquaintances, some you call friend. Some there are you hope might be more, and some you have lost along the way. There are family members you could never imagine being without, and perhaps some you wish you never had to see. Some are the type that always brighten your day, where others might always bring you down. Some warm your heart. Some chill you to the bone. Some remind them of yourself. Some are so different, you wonder how you came to know them or how these related genes made that happen. Some bring the past to you. Others press you into the future. And there are those that are with you. And sometimes those that you lose...

They lost their mother late last week and the memorial services were held Monday. I always knew I was the sensitive one, but this one struck close to home. It has been a rough week and my chin is held high, knowing that family and friends are truly what make this life worth living, or at least make it passable from high to low, and all the points between. My entries are going to be a little less regular for a while, methinks, but I appreciate all those who drop by and visit. For now, I leave you with the words of Ursula K. LeGuin, who wrote a little series of this fabled place known as Earthsea, that I enjoyed immensely in the days of my youth. This little poem always struck me as so simple, yet so true.

Only in silence the word,
only in dark the light,
only in dying life:
bright the hawk's flight
on the empty sky

-- The Creation of Ea

I didn't write it. I just know it's true. Peace, happiness, and blessings on all of you and all of them.

The New Me

Well, it's the best I could do on short notice, but it does seem to be pretty representative of all that is Wopanese.

Good and bad news for the day:

On the one hand, I still have no well pump.

On the other, I have a home warranty. YEAH!!

Flip back - the home warranty doesn't cover my well pump. That's a purely optional coverage.

BUT, pump coverage can be added as optional coverage for 80 bucks!

Unfortunately, it can only be added during the first 30 days of home ownership or next March, at the end of the warranty's term.

The good news? I bought the house in March.

The bad? March was well over 30 days ago, so no coverage for me well and no option to add it this year. In fact, I didn't even get to move into the house until 3 months AFTER I closed on it. Now, my neighbors are super people - they were the previous owners of my "new" home - but their new house wasn't done so I had to wait the 3 extra months to move in. My well pump coverage add-on date was well expired by then... get it? Well expired? Yeah, okay, it sucks. PLUS, I am overloaded and underproductive at work - one sort of feeds the other in this really, nasty vicious circle... go figure. My voice is for crap and this nagging little upper respiratory crap I caught just prior to the wedding just won't go the hell away. It's a bit like an annoying family stranger you might me in, say, a bar - you know the type. Likable enough, so you're pleasant at first. Conversation is okay for at most, 5 minutes, in situations like this. At this point, people, you are supposed to give the person you do not know an opportunity to politely slip away to other things.

See, this exact thing happened to me the other night. I just got off the stage from jamming with the now-in-search-of-a-front-man band once known as Grapefruit Fred, and later, Mungo. I walked back to the table and grabbed my soda and was going to sit and relax with a nice smoke. Yes - I have a BAD habit. Let's discuss that later, shall we (not)?

In any event, I partially recognized this fellow sitting at a table near mine and he extended his hand to, of all things, thank me for the good music. Well, I am appreciative of all compliments from people, but you do have to realize also that it's a lot of stress and some decompression time is nice for people who have just performed. Let 'em have a drink, chill out, relax, have a smoke (there it is again)... give us five minutes. Damn! It's not unlike the standard joke Chris Rock spoke of when the married man walks in through the door to his house. He hasn't even gotten both feet in through the doorway, in fact, when his wife immediately bombards him with every last detail of her day. Ummm, can a brother get a minute to GET IN the house first?

SO... I was just trying to sit for a few minutes... but he just wouldn't stop talking to me. Those 5 minute intervals appeared, and I did my level best to find good ways to bring the conversations to an appropriate pause so I could slip away... and each time I did, he'd grab me by the shoulder or start off immediately on some new topic. Nice enough guy. Good-looker too - I mean, hey, he looked like me. Okay, quit throwing the tomatoes at me - I'm KIDDING!! Seriously, though, he really does look like me, poor sap. Like my evil twin. So I guess he's doubly cursed.

Even weirder? He once dated my roommate that got married just this past Saturday. He also knows my other roommate, who also got married. I would NEVER have learned about this had he simply abided by the 5 minute rule... that's part of the reason for its existence, you know? To allow you to politely escape bizarre meetings such as this one. I did mention that my roomies married one another, right? And that one is female and one is male? Okay, those of you who are lost need to go do some homework and go back a few blog entries and catch up.

Anyway, where was I? Ahh, yes, so he just wouldn't let me go. Now, I didn't want to be rude... but he was stomping all over the 5 minute rule, and I was really, really thirsty... hmmmph. He was, in all honesty, a very pleasant fellow, and not rude in any specific way, other than that one little thing... but that's a big one to remember. Add that to the "I just got off stage and I'm drained" factor and it gets magnified. Had he simply let me go, I would likely have engaged him in more conversation after the fact...

Am I the only weirdo who thinks this way?
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Oh yeah, the good news...

hmm... that's a tough one...

hold on a bit...

dammit, I forgot. Hey, I still have a job... so far. And considering the whole "gotta pay for the well" thing? That's good news.
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Water Water Everywhere...

So, the bachelor party, with dancing girls sans clothing, with music, with boobies, sans any necessity for me to "take one for the team" went off without a hitch. I had to chaperone my roommate James and intervene in case his buddies from out of town decided to try and liquor him up - he had some very important places to be the following morning (AT EIGHT A.M.) and I was "given permission" to "play the a$$hole" to make sure he got home sober and in one piece. Taking one for the team, in case anything "exceptional" was thrown at him. Well, lucky for everyone involved, this did not come to pass.

Remind me some time later to discuss the "dancer gene", as my good friend T* called it, and its effect on most women.

The rehearsal dinner, with a pre-planned menu, sans much notice for the poor restaurant owner, with some videoing by yours truly (I am THE wedding videographer and producer of the eventual "Famous wedding video" which will likely be for sale at a store near you some day soon... keep your eye out for it)... now, where was I? Oh yes, rehearsal dinner blah blah... WITH fine food and only ONE person, ever the one to be the picky eater, selecting something off of the regular menu, went off with nary a hitch. I gave this as my main wedding gift to the bride and groom since they were on limited funds due, in part, to the very short notice of the wedding as mentioned in previous blog entries.

Finally, the wedding, with me doing video with another friend's assistance, with me also doing a long-winded toast which included a musical performance on no practice, with reception, with questionable weather, sans drama, with live music, sans liquor but with beer and wine, went off without a hitch. In fact, all things considered, I think it went pretty damned well. Seriously. Only time, and a lot of editing on my part, will determine if the video lives up to the rest of the weekend.

Of course, outside of that? Things went all to crap.... as described in the title of this post.

My well pump went bye bye. Broken. Toasty. Fried. No workie, no pumpie. Not even air. It has taken its magnetic coils and left the mortal ones. It's as useful as rust now. It's now a decorative lawn ornament for a redneck porch. It is an EX pump.

What exactly does this mean? It means I have No water. That is exactly what I have - no water. I can walk right to the well in front of my house, take off the cover, and look down at a whole bunch of nice, cold water ... but I can't make me drink... not unless I took a 22 foot drop into the well (that's 7 meters to you and me, you metric kids out there). It started "gasping air" and partially cutting off last week, pre-wedding hooha... and I got a plumber out there on very short notice. He replaced a pressure regulating switch on the pump Friday morning, pre-rehearsal dinner... and things SEEMED to be working a bit better. But he never drained the tank... and it got full... and Sunday night, right after the newlyweds left town for parts further south - to the heart of music country in the Southeast - that would be Nashville (heart of coutnry music) and Memphis (home of, the King, Elvis Presley) - it siezed up for good. Got all nice and warm... and pumped NOTHING more.

So now I have no water. I spent yesterday getting plumbers to come out and take a look at it and see what they could see... I checked my home warranty - I mean, I just bought the house in March, right? Well, right there in the semi-fine print - I could get that well pump covered for an additional fee, it said. Dammit. I suppose it's a lesson learned that I should read things like that beforehand, right?

So, now water. No pump. No coverage. Hooray for credit cards, I guess. Oh, and savings accounts.

Of course, it has been raining pretty much constantly in this area since the pump decided to start acting up. Ironic, isn't it? Rain has been pouring or drizzling or pissin out of the sky for several days straight... and THIS is when MY well pump kicks the bucket... so I get no water...

Lucky for me, I have one of the kindest neighbors in the world. He let me run a hose from my house to his so now I am feeding off of his well for the moment. At least I can wash the stink off of me each day, and keep the cats watered... so I guess it's not ALL bad... just have to replace that pump now... hooray.

Hmm... I wonder if I can get a water pump with my Thank You points from Citibank...?

HNT = Have No Time

Sorry, folks. No picture or witty anecdotes for today's Half-Nekkd Thursday - or tomorrow. My roomies are getting wed and I am up to my eyeballs in stuff to do. For now, here's an oldie but a goodie - almost a mini-tradition, if you will...

And that's about all I got ta say about that.

I'm watching you...
The eyes have it.

Okay, I'll stop now.



Have a great weekend all - hope to have some good reception tales to tell you come Monday!
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Move Along, Move Along

There's nothing to see here... nothing to see...

At least not for today.

I will be glad when the word REST and RELAXATION re-enter my vocabulary. They are so far gone from me that I had to get a friend to type this in for me... I couldn't remember how to spell them. But, hey, the wedding is almost upon us all... can you hear the footsteps thrumming down the hall?

*thrum thrum thrum*

3 days and counting.... ( passing back out now )

Things I Heard Over the Past Few...

A - They can't find her ovary.
B - Do they know where they are looking?
A - Yeah. I guess maybe she might've sh1t it out or something..
---
A - After I'm done with you, you can do pullups on it..
.. (followed later by)
B - Hell, after I'm done with them, they don't have the strength to sit up.
---
A - So we were talking about stallions and ponies...
B - So I'm Italian, does that make me a stallion?
(A & C laugh out loud)
C - I told her I prefer ponies...
---
A - I'm naked in the bed
---
A - Psst... hey, someone's having sex in the bathroom...
B - Really?
A - Yeah
B - Well... who is it?
A - hold on a sec...
---
A - Hey look. Geek-boy macho competition...
---
A - If you cut the tips of your hair it will grow faster
B - No it won't
A - Yes it will
B - It doesn't grow from the end, it's dead. All hair is dead. It grows from the roots
A - But if you trim it, it will grow faster
B - No. It MIGHT help keep the split ends from breaking, but if you take good care of your hair it won't matter.
A - Look. It's like this.
B - uh huh
A - You have a penis right?
B - Last time I checked...
A - So if I lick the tip of it, does it grow faster?
B - Well sure, but that's not a good analogy.
A - huh?
B - If you cut the tip off of my penis, it's NOT gonna grow longer.
---

And that should just about take us over the line of decency and good taste for the day.

FYI - Hey, I'm on yahoo's page 16 if you search for milf race team . What the...?
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Forgot Da MeMe

30. Hell, I hated Kiss as a kid

Yep. I wasn't a member of the Kiss army as a kid. Hey, I grew up in Hawaii and it just really wasn't a priority to watch some goofy dudes dressing up in funky outfits to play pop rock in somewhat choreographed concerts, you know? Nope nope nope. No, it was far more important to watch live action shows - the original Japanese shows that were the origins for the Power Rangers, to be sure - like Kikaida and Kamen Raider, where they got dressed up in funky outfits to fights each other in choreographed fight scenes... and then there would be that classic giant monster in rubber suit with super special effects scenes. Naturally, I went for the cheezy kungfu monster stuff.

Hey, if that had been broadcast in the 48, it would have been a huge hit, you know?

But now? Yeah, now I dig on that extra cheezy Kiss action. Why the hell not? There are plenty hot chicks that dig it... so bonus. ;)
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Happy Monday.

The Countdown is ON...

So... my roommates are getting married. Both of them. Okay, so it's not THAT surprising or coincidental since they are marrying one another.

No, they are NOT both men.... or women for that matter... (ahh well, dare to dream)

So the big shindig goes down this coming Saturday and I, for one, can hardly wait. Yes, I am excited. No, really, I am.

"Why?" do you ask?

Well, it'll be nice for the whole process to finally be done with.

For those of you who have never been involved with a wedding of ANY scale, let these words of wisdom guide you along:

1. START EARLY.
2. Start often
3. plan ahead
4. plan more ahead
5. Never EVER, under ANY circumstances tell a supplier of ANY part of the wedding ordeal that you are doing it for a wedding. Why? Because the word "wedding" equals a 4 times multiplier to the price. For example: You wanna cater this party. No problem. Sammiches and party platters at about, oh, 5 bucks a head. Now, do the EXACT same food and drink for a "WEDDING"? 20 bucks. Check it out and tell me I lie. Go 'head and try.
6. Did I mention that you need to START EARLY?

Let me discuss this whole START EARLY item. I love my roommates and they love each other tons.. and they seem to like me well enough not to kill me in my sleep, BUT, they were actually considering eloping. Why? Well, they (and by "THEY" I mean "SHE") knew that the process of producing a wedding was a bit of a monumental task. Most people never really understand this until they encounter it. (Doesn't it make sense that there is an entire vocation dedicated to the sole task of handling wedding preparation? It's called a wedding coordinator, by the way.) SOOOO they had set an October date and time ran short what with moving here and there and getting their apartment subleased and moving in with me and just a whole ton of crap that I'll likely get into later in another entry - let's just say that time ran short. Six weeks ago they had decided to simply move the wedding into the spring or go to Las Vegas and do it Elvis style.

Me personally? I was definitely all for the Elvis wedding... but I think I would have requested the "Shaft" wedding. I can hear Isaac Hayes in the background layin down the funky groove and he and his blackup singers (yes, that is an industry term) singing "He a bad muthafu" "Shut yo mouth" "I'm just talkin' bout Wop". But I digress, as usual.

Back to their wedding plans ... somehow, family intervened. They didn't know how the plans had gone from October ceremony to getting dressed up like Elvis and Priscilla... and someone said something or other and then *WHAM* - we (and by "we" I mean "my roommates AND I") had to get set up for an October wedding.

That was 6 weeks ago.

Let me tell you something. Six weeks isn't enough time to prepare for a wedding unless you are Wonder Woman. And that's what my most excellent friend, Lisa is. Wonder Woman. Even though her groom-to-be has sometimes seemed like the Invisible Man during this whole process - he has been helpful, yes, but sometimes grooms-to-be are like ninja - they can disappear from right in front of you when "danger" (and by "danger" I mean "talk of the wedding") arises. Six weeks and on a shoestring budget, this whole wedding process is going to happen and it's going to be pretty nice, from what I can tell. Not some pot-luck BYOB affair, mind you - there is a reception with real food and live music - yes, I will get to play some as well, but I am just the "set break" guy for the actual band. Wonder Woman she is.

And this is crunch week. I have written part of a wedding toast and a song to sing for them, as part of the toast, and am planning on how to set up the whole video shoot that I was asked to do for them.... I, for one, have great fears about being able to do the video well enough to make them happy, but I know that in the end, they will smile and thank me for a wonderful video because that's just how great these two people are.

And if you can read the tear in my eye as I write this last paragraph, that's okay - I'm just happy I got to share some of this process with them... and now I know why I'll run if anyone threatens ME with it. ;)


So, Happy Monday. The Countdown is ON. 6 days and counting....
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