you know, it turns out that a room full of lesbians, uh, not really that hot. sorry guys.
last night's shindig featured a band who stacked the audience with their friends, thereby depriving east van of a goodly 75% of its lesbians. walking in, my first thought was "wow, look at all these skinny boys with cool shirts. awesome".
oh wait.
so yeah, you may fantasize about being trapped in a room with 40 carpet-licking lovely ladies, but we careful what you wish for, 'cause you're more likely to end up in a bar with a bunch of people of indeterminate gender wearing cowboy hats and trading indigo girls mix tapes.
once all the fun of your hbd-1 model bung dropper has worn off, try:
manual dehorners!
head cutters!
lard pullers!
THE LUNG GUN!
the semi-automatic neck-breaker!
the beef stunner!
the carcass vacuum!
and who could omit the cryptically-titled "electrical stimulation"?
exhibit a: the jarvis products corp. hbd-1 bung dropper
this naturally leads to some questions.
1. what is a hog bung?
2. where does "hog bung" rank on the list of seemingly dirty innocuous terms? above mung bean? below lard puller?
3. with something that looks like that and is capable of removing this "bung" thing from 1200 pigs an hour, should the phrase "skilled labor is not required" be used in the product description?
4. is "optimal blade size leaves more meat on the animal, less on the intestine" a strong selling point?
it's a porn utopia, a cornucopia of warm fallopia
mc paul barman rocks the party. if he's coming to your town, see him.
that, folks, is what you miss when you show up late to a black heart procession concert.
so i think i'm going to form a "postrock" band because of all the genres, it is the most forgiving of people WHO TAKE 20 SECONDS TO FINGER THE NEXT DAMNED CHORD.
i mean, really.
more from sunday night's dinner conversation, mom and dad and me discuss the expo 86 concert series:
<5 minutes of mom and dad discussing concerts they saw>
mom: we went to that other one, too, didn't we?
dad: which other one?
m: billy idol.
d: uh, no, we didn't go to billy idol
m: yeah we did! of course we did!
jenn: holy shit, you went to a billy idol concert?
m: yeah, billy idol
j:
m: no no, (sings) "car-ibbe-an queeeeeeeen"
j: um, that was billy ocean
m: oh
A Cedar Crest man mutilated and burned his beloved house cats and sprayed insecticide on a female friend because he thought they were shapeshifters.
Christopher Campbell, 42 told authorities that he believed his cats were shape shifters, mythical creatures who can change form, and that they were trying to kill him....
...while deputies checked out the house, neighbors reported seeing a naked man running down the road. Campbell later slipped back into his house; sheriff's deputies found him naked in the closet of the back bedroom.
Sheriff's deputies were called to the house a week earlier when a semi-nude woman ran screaming and crying to a neighbor's home...
...he told deputies he became concerned when a shape shifter took over Waites' body, so he locked her in his laundry room and smashed the window with a fire poker "to keep an eye on her."
Campbell said he sprayed Waites with insecticide in an attempt to get her to jump out the window and leave.
Deputies say his parents came from their home in Florida about three days ago to check on their son. They told officers they went to Campbell's his home to find butter smeared on the doorknobs and jars of honey and jam dumped on the front and back porches. He had placed barbed wire and cacti around the house as a security measure.
out to dinner with the parents (divorced c. 1986ish) tonight. transcript of conversation between dad and mom, discussing travels of days gone by:
m: we almost went to zihuatanejo, remember?
d: yeah, we went to europe though instead
m: well we weren't going to go to europe, remember, we were going to go to mexico? and you couldn't get us a hotel reservation so we had to go to europe?
d: no we didn't go to mexico because we couldn't get a hotel reservation. we didn't go to mexico because you were scared of pirates.
<5 minutes of discussion about the reasons to forgoing mexico in favour of europe>
m: maybe you're right. maybe it was the pirates.
yesterday afternoon i came into possession of a bag of japanese snack mix which contained, among other things, whole dried anchovies. riding high on the whole "i ate anchovies for the first time and liked it" euphoric wave of the night before, and egged on by a friend, i tried one.
flashback to roughly 11 years ago. i had a bag of these things, bought at the pet store, which i was attempting to feed to the cat. the cat refused to consume even a single crumb.
things i deduced after putting the dried anchovy in my mouth yesterday:
1) always trust the damn cat
2) never buy snack food that is also sold in pet stores
the finns are the most sadistic nation on earth. for proof, i direct you to porrasturvat which apparently is finnish for "push this motherfucker down the stairs and see how much you can hurt him". or "stair dismount" in english.
it's a physics simulator. push the guy down the stairs, score points for damage inflicted. my current high score is 60,610. chuck's managed 99,918. he says go for the forearm with a bit of upwards motion. and the man knows what he's talking about.
BERLIN (Reuters) - A hungry dog ate part of his owner after the man died in his apartment and was not found for several days, police said Tuesday.
"It's not an unusual case," said police spokesman Robert Scholten in the former German capital Bonn. "These things happen when people live and die alone."
The St Bernard was later brought to a dog pound.
so i fixed the comment thing. as in, you can actually leave them now. and now you can see when i posted entries, so if you have an obsessive interest in my life and want to monitor my computer use schedule, well, now's your chance.
impress your friends, learn one of my favourites.
1. the horse with 70-1 odds is not going to pull from behind to show, even if you promise to convert to catholicism and perform an act of mortification every day.
2. sometimes the perkiest looking horse doesn't look that way because he's fast, it's because he has to pee.
3. the smell of lost hopes and shattered dreams smells oddly like an old guy smoking a cheap cigar.
that's from "le serpent rouge", a 1967 french text that a friend showed me the other day.
i am going to call my next band "by this sign you shall conquer" and we will go on tour with "...and you will know us by the trail of dead" and "behead the prophet no lord shall live".
it will be the first tour ever where there are more syllables in the band names than there are band members.
excerpt from an interview between my father the psychologist and b the inmate junkie...
dad: so how often do you use?
baslo: a lot
d: well, how many times a day?
b: uh, once every 3 hours i guess
d: every 3 hours? doesn't that keep you from a normal schedule?
b: no
d: well, you couldn't watch ben hur. it's 3.5 hours.
b: i saw ben hur
d: really?
b: yeah, i shot up during intermission