First, I listened to Goth Mark’s CD.
Next, I went and saw his band, Mark and The Stigmatas.
Finally, he asked “Be honest, what do you think?”
I said “It’s pretty intense.”
I guess it’s the best ambiguous comment he ever got. He took it as a compliment.
“Pretty Intense… I like that.”
Now whenever Goth Mark drops off the mail, all “we” talk about is his band…
Mark: Alpo, I meant to ask. What about Nausea Insomnia?
Me: About what?
Mark: Track three on my CD.
Me: Oh right, track three.
Mark: It’s not derivative of Alien Sex Fiend? Or Sartre?
Me: Nah.
Mark: Yeah. (sings) “Amnesia, hysteria/ I got nausea insomnia!”
Me: Yup. Whoa, look at the time.
Mark: Time To Fester.
Me: What?
Mark: Track six. Time To Fester.
Me: Right.
Mark: We opened with it.
(Silence)
Mark: Hey, have you joined the band’s MySpace Fan Club yet?
Me: I keep forgetting.
Mark: When you join, you should write a review on our page about how awesome we are.
Me: I’m not much of a writer.
Mark: I’ll write it for you!
Me: Please don’t.
Mark: Oh… I’m thinking of changing the band’s name to Pretty Intense.
Me: Makes sense.
Mark: You don’t mind if I use it?
Me: It’s all yours.
Mark: Thanks! You should write some lyrics for the band. Your words. My music. Anyway, no mail for you today. Think lyrics. Later, man.
Your life is so awesome. Hot chicks in elevators, trips to Omaha, softball hero, starting a song writing career… It won’t be long before CLT is writing about you in Heavy Rotation.
Hahaha!
Ah, the hilarity that is Ramblin’ Rooster.
So, I’m assuming that I’m not already enough of a figure of fun and I need to be heavily rotated?
…Although, there would definitely be a certain and distinct honour to be comically dissected by CLT. He doesn’t just tear anyone to shreds! He’s a very discerning thrasher of a thresher.
Heavy Rotation: Alan Truitt
Multi-instrumentalist and passable singer Alan Truitt has carved himself a sizable niche in the world of music. While it would be nearly impossible to recount the number of bands he considers to be influences, it is a rather short list that actually shows through his work: Fad Gadget, Bachman Apple Turn Overdrive and Morris Day.
A brief recounting of his body of work shows some spurts of creativity and a reach that often exceeds his grasp. While none of his work has troubled the charts nearly as much as the sign the sheriff’s office ordered me to post in my yard troubled the neighbors, the wide variety of stylistic exercises and experimental one-offs demands closer inspection.
“Elevator Action” – an ode to unrequited love, Elevator Action is composed nearly entirely of the unretouched incidental music from the arcade game of the same name. Although this would normally bring the wolves to the door, the decline of many arcade establishments has ensured that Bally Midway, Inc. does not even have “lawyer money” laying around. And once you’ve reached that point, you really should call it a day.
Mainly an instrumental piece, due mostly to Alan’s paraphasia (grab a wiktionary, kids) when it comes to discussing his object of affection, the track features garbled vocals that fall somewhere between a strangled Tourette’s sufferer and the hypnotic tones of the Tuvalu throat singers.
“Centerfield” – Alan’s cover of John Fogerty’s hideous classic was composed entirely within a version of Audacity for Blackberry, between the fourth and fifth innings. To break the monotony, Alan also sampled some field noises for a true “baseball feel.” If you listen closely, you can hear chants of “You suck!” which brings to mind the early heyday of the Jesus and Mary Chain’s live appearances. You may also hear an off-key and often repeated nasal humming which approximates the melodic chorus of a song near and dear to pedophiles everywhere, Gary Glitter’s “Rock & Roll Pt. 2.”
“Bring Me the Head of Typhoid Mildred” – Alan’s on-off with contemporaries Mark and the Stigmatas breaks from their normal output, in that 1.) it features the powerful drumming of Alan Truitt, whose gratuitous breaks and fills serve notice to the fact that drum machines have never been more affordable and 2.) does not feature a melody line hooked completely from either “Bela Lugosi’s Dead” or “Stigmata Martyr” by goth giants, Bauhaus.
As is de riguer for goth, Mark and the Stigmatas usually features a drum machine and as their limited output (and output limitations) constantly reminds us: it’s one thing to purchase a drum machine; it’s quite another to learn how to program it.
“By the Time I Get to Omaha” – Alan tries something new this time, pulling all the angst of growing up white and middle class in the tough streets of Puppy Mills, Mass. to conjure up a fair approximation of Public Enemy’s whirlwind of noise, samples and jeep beats. Playing up the nihilism that travels with all of us on mandatory business trips, Alan’s jarring lyrics conjure up the millions of bad decisions made by a lack of personal time, sleep and sobriety.
While it will certainly never attain the gravitas of Chuck D.’s powerful messages, it certainly does retain a certain amount of crack-addled good naturedness of his hype man and occasional lyricist, Flavor Flav.
“Always Have Two Spares” – Building a slow grind, much like Killing Joke in their prime, Alan metes out a harrowing tale of possessiveness and obsession. At first dealing with an unnamed protagonist, Alan recites a litany of barbed questions, asking “Spare a dime? Spare a feeling? Spare a smoke?” Spare a lung?” before launching into a propulsive Shriekback-like punk-funk roar, screaming “Spare the rod/spoil the child.” The song wraps up with a call-and-response chant of “Otto! Needs one! Needs two! Needs it all!” This is repeated ad nauseum until someone hits the power button on the CD player.
I am honoured. Seriously. I’ve read it three times. And I’ll read it many more. I’m framing it.
It’s got it all…
Love,
Paraphasia
Arcade establishments
A Jesus and Mary Chain name check
Mildred’s head
A beginning, a middle and an end (the marks of a well made play)
Puppy Mills, Mass
Delightful plot twists
Not a single reference to mini golf
A whirlwind of noise, samples and jeep beats (the best kind of whirlwind, I say)
Elevator Action (My new favourite phrase, by the way)
A “By the Time I Get to Omaha” reference
Plenty of Alan
Two Bauhaus songs
No Alpo jokes
Fad Gadget, Bachman Apple Turn Overdrive and Morris Day
Flavor Flav
Killing Joke
Killer comedy
A refreshing lack of Xmal Deutschland
A strong second act
Shriekback blending into an Otto chant
And throat singers (I saw Tibetan throat singers perform last summer)
Thanks CLT!
My pleasure, Alan.
It also contains a few spelling and grammatical errors. But c’est la internet…
Best wishes/condolences on your nascent music career!
Thanks, I had my first overdose last night.
I’m on my way!
I am truly honored to know you, CLT.
Thanks, CC.
I’m humbled and honored.
To quote Futurama: “For one day I got to know what it was like to be a grandmother: subjugated yet honored.”
I admire your patience with a man who clearly needs to be reminded about the concept of mental sanity.
Thanks Chris!
Hilariously said.
It reminds me of that Samuel Johnson quote “A man who clearly needs to be reminded about the concept of mental sanity usually shits his pants, tells you he’s Napoleon, and then proceeds to dance around an imaginary hat.”
Wait, hang on… Did Johnson say that?
Sorry, my mistake. It was James Boswell.
I always get those two mixed up.
When I (or should i say me?) first read that me thought you meant Samuel Jackson and expected a whole different quote….
“Enough is enough! I have had it with these motherf***ing weirdo’s in this mother***ing office! “
Hah!
Go to see you, me (hah!), and thanks for my first laugh of the day. When I’m not confusing Samuel Johnson with James Boswell. I’m confusing Samuel Johnson with Samuel Jackson. Also, when I’m not confusing Samuel Jackson with Samuel Johnson, I’m confusing Samuel Jackson with Shoeless Joe Jackson, who I frequently confuse with the musician, Joe Jackson, who I’m always confusing with Josephine Baker, who I confuse with the butcher, the baker, and candlestick maker, who I confuse with…
Hmm, I think I need medication.
We thought you were already on medication?
Hey, you’re right.
Still, when it comes to medication: More is better.
tell MJ’s doctor that!
Ha!
Oh, you.
That is to say, oh me.
I love ambiguous comments… or do I…
No.
I mean… Yes.
Wait…
Or don’t.
I think what I mean is that if you’re anything like me (and when I say me, I don’t necessarily refer to myself), then the answer is an unequivocal maybe.
Ambiguity Rules – Perhaps!
your nothing like me!
ambiguous comments can always be insightful
But when it comes to me, I am my own me, and that’s what makes me special. You do realize I am talking about me. And when I say me, I mean you, me.
Please accept the compliment.
Now where did I put that medication…?
we’ve got a “Goth Mark” at the Gimcrack too. I put his band’s cd on at the end of Happy Hour – it’s the signal to the patients that it’s either time to go down to dinner or time to start vomiting up the cheap booze we’ve just plied them with
Hahaha!
Well I certainly hope they tend to do more of the former.
I think I want to try out your hospital, Nurse Myra. All I got in mine was some pamphlets and half a chess game before they came and took that guy away. And some cheap ass anti-anxiety meds. I’d rather have cheap booze.
Damn cheap ass anti-anxiety meds.
You should write lyrics for them about a depressing office full of weirdo’s, although i’m not sure where you could get the inspiration…
Weirdo Co-Workers! (Lyrics by Alan/Music by me)
That freak Otto
Makes me wanna get blotto
I always scream
“Yikes, here comes Naline”
Typhoid Mildred may be gone
But the ghost of her lingers on
Jack from Payroll makes me insane
Look Farook’s asleep again
Weirdo co-workers!
Weirdo co-workers!
Nutless Tom is getting married
Mary Margaret is crying and harried
Carlita is hot
Baltazar is not
Mike’s taking a dump
And Clark busts my hump
Weirdo co-workers!
Weirdo co-workers!
truly awesome, Alan, truly awesome!
Thanks me (hah!),
Good to see you, me.
Yea, I guess they would be going for a ‘pretty intense’ feel.
I had a good idea for you. You could take Carlita to ‘the turning point’ to see the band. It’ll be really loud and scary so she will cling to you like a desperate adolescent to a false self image. But it’s not really scary because they are all skinny adolescents with self image problems. It would be quite the bonding experience! You could even pull a practical joke and go into the bathroom at the concert and put pools of ketchup in both palms, spread it on your back and head, and start making “oh my God, Oh’s and ahh’s” in a Norm Macdonald kind of voice. Then burn Marilyn Manson in effigy! See what kind of reaction you get. It’ll be fun!
I am waiting with bated breath for these lyrics.
Hah!
Ah, Scott…
You always have such wonderfully delightful comments and truly unique dining and nightclubbing suggestions. Hey, here’s a fascinating coincidence – the TGIF’s is right beside The Turning Point, so after I’ve experienced the joys of Carlita clinging to me like a desperate adolescent to a false self image (lovely imagery by the way), I can take her and my fake stigmata wounds out to TGIF for their famous full rack Cajun–spiced baby back pork ribs. I’m sure Marilyn will be there – and of course I’ll bring an effigy pyre and book of matches for the occasion.
Isn’t it amazing that TGIF’s are in so many convenient, assessable locations? I think it’s a wonderful idea! As a matter of fact if you clean yourself up, go to dinner, and then pull the trick in the restaurant, you may even get your famous full rack Cajun-spiced baby back ribs for free!! You’ll just have to make sure that Carlita doesn’t run off with Marilyn, before you get to do the whole effigy thing. (You need a doll of him or something though; you can get in trouble if you actually try to burn a person! Ridiculous, I know, right?)
That’s awesome that you have a portable effigy pyre! I haven’t seen one for sale since I was in that Sears in Tehran. Those things sold out like hotcakes. Except in Tehran the expression is actually ‘sold like effigy pyres!”
Hah!
You’re cracking me up here, Scott.
Sears in Tehran…
Speaking of which: I found a really good deal on “stoning rocks” at the Sears in Tehran. They were nicely weighted, very smooth, fit in the hand like a glove and were excellent for stoning. Top quality stuff.
I was thinking… Instead of burning Marilyn in effigy, I’ll burn him in the parking lot of TGIF.
Where the hell is Effigy, anyway? Scott, you travel too much.
Saskatchewan – Home of the Prancing Effigies and the world’s best Moose Burger and Beaver Tails.
I could be on board with Moose Burger, but there is something off-putting about “Beaver Tails.” Like a Bride of Frankenstein project gone awry.
Look what they did to this poor girl!
Oh the sugar! Oh the humanity!
http://www.beavertailsinc.com/
Mark seems to be in a good mood these days. Too bad the band is going to break up in a few weeks (if history repeats itself). I wonder how he’ll take it. My guess would be “Gothomantically,” or at least “Depgothancholily.”
Hah!
Nice, deathinfrance
I’ve been doing some reading. There are five stages of “Goth Band Break Up”
First there is Gothancholy, second, he’ll get Furigoth, this will be followed by a profound sadness known as Gothrow and then he’ll experience Gothnial and finally, Gothceptance.
It’s all part of the process.
Don’t you mean prgothess?
Hahaha!
Why, yes!
Yes, I do!
Kubler-Ross (God rest her sacrilegious boobs) would be proud or not.
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Sacrilegious Boobs Haiku
Internet café
The birth spot of boobs haiku
Sacrilegious tits
PS. Always thinking Hum Dung’s Internet Cafe of Many Suns!
Alan…how many times must I tell you. Honesty is always the best policy.
“Mark your shit stinks and I never get mail anyway here b/c this isn’t my f-ing home so leave me alone”
I know, and you’re right bearman…
But those Goth puppy dog eyes of his make it so damned difficult.
You absolutely must not follow bearman’s advice. Those goth people are all about having psychotic breaks and shooting everyone! And since you probably have a break room right there, you should DEFINITELY NOT MAKE HIM ANGRY.
I care about you, Alan. Don’t do it.
Thanks BKT,
I greatly appreciate your concern.
Wow, I thought Goths were the happiest people in the world.
I was planning a vacation this summer to Goth World – The Most Wonderfully Happy Place in The World.
Is it possible the brochures were lying to me???
Damn brochures!
Don’t listen to BKT…those are only the Goth’s who won’t find gainful employment. The one’s with jobs are just playing at being Goth.
So… They are the happiest people of earth?
The brochures weren’t lying?
Signed,
Confused in the Office Kitchen
You dealt with that awkward situation the best way you possibly could, Alan. Not only were your comments ambiguous, but they were also vague, unclear, and indefinite enough to sound extremely non-committal. I could learn a lot from you.
On another note, did you know that your convo with Goth Markbrought up an automatically generated post on your blog entitled -”Dude, did you fart?” “No…” “Oh, okay, that`s just Japan.”Seriously, how does that relate to anything you and the key member of Pretty Intense were talking about?!??! Do the automatic post-generators even read these posts to before deciding what should be automatically posted?
Sorry, I just get a little frustrated. I can’t stand randomness…
Hah! Yes, I am thinking of teaching a course at The Learning Annex on the art of ambiguity. It’ll take place Thursday nights at 9pm. Possibly. Or not. Maybe Wednesday. Put don’t pin me to that. In fact don’t mention pins. Oh wait, you didn’t, that was me. Never mind.
Anyway, the course is free. For a price. $50.00. Which is fair. Or not. Or maybe. If you don’t have any money we can trade. That seems fair. Or is it fair trade I’m thinking of? Who can say? Not me. Well I can, and I will… In the classroom. Possibly. If I teach the course. Which I might. On Thursday nights. Or Tuesday mornings.
Yes, the fart thing. The best thing I can say about it is that at least my convo with Mark didn’t automatically generate a post entitled “It’s a baby boy for Mark Wahlberg!”
Oh, wait.
I agree on randomness. Who the hell does it think it is anyway? I told my friend, BKT that I’m putting together a list of things that I find “damned” I’m including randomness on it.
Damned Randomness.
I have an idea…why don’t you form a band called Damn that Random Damnedness? (or Damn that Random Damnedness, whichever wording would work best for the front of your Facebook group page). You could play elusive music, then teach lessons in ambiguity between sets. It’s a win/win. Or a win/tie, depending on the audience response…
I would definitely go see you perform. Unless it was on a day when I wouldn’t, in which case don’t count on seeing me there… (See? I’m learning already!)
Applesauce.
We’re both learning. It’s the educational experience none of us asked for but are both receiving. It really is bliss.
I have formed the damned band. Or the band of the damned. We are going with the moniker “Damn that Random Damnedness”
Thank you for that. Although we may change it. I can’t be sure of anything. Except that I’m sure I can’t be sure of anything. I think.
We start gigging tomorrow. Or sometime soon. Or far away. It’s impossible to say. Even though it shouldn’t be.
We already have a set list.
1. First Song (Or maybe we should open with the third song?)
2. Ambiguity Song (Note, we likely will not play this song. It needs work – and to be written)
3. Third Song (Possibly moved up to first song. More on this later)
4. Damned Casanova (Possibly. Maybe change title to Damned Nose Plugs)
5. It’s Hard To Say (May change title of this song. Just sure not, it’s hard to say…)
6. Sears in Tehran (Alternatively, we could play “Eaton’s in Nowhere”)
7. Closing Number (We will only play this if we actually show up. Which is doubtful)
Stellar work!! This is definitely going to be a win/win…I haven’t been this excited for someone I’ve never met since Stella got her Groove back!
(Btw, that second option was supposed to read “Damned that Damned Randomness”. My mind started going off on a totally unrelated and Facebook-associated topic while I was writing it. Feel free to use it as well…no pressure).
The band’s name has been changed!
We are now…
Damn that Random Damnedness of the Damned and that Damned Randomness
I think it’s pretty damned catchy. And random. Damned random.
I was excited when Stella got her groove back too! Her ability to balance a hot and steamy romance while remembering her responsibilities as a mother and corporate executive was inspiring.
I went to Buffalo to get my groove back. Instead I got a four alarm fire.
Ram that Damned Van Dammness. Van that Rammed the Damned Random Nest? Ram the Man that Damned the Van that Ran Dom Deloise Random?
Damn.
I think, as an added bonus, you should allow me to do an adjunct professorship on “How to not tell the truth while not lying either, by using deflecting answers or the perfect combination of words that will satisfy the asker of questions while not actually fully answering his questions.” It’s my area of expertise.
Damn wordsmiths.
Ram the damned Venkatararam. Venkatararam Ram of the damned. Damned Ram Venkatararam meets Jean-Claude Van Damme.
I’m building a podium just for you, Professor Barelyknittogether…
Your students are an eager bunch. They are bright-eyed and bushy tailed.
Yes, they have tails.
But they really are swell bunch of kids who are desperate to learn the fine art of not telling the truth while not lying either, by using deflecting answers or the perfect combination of words that will satisfy the asker of questions while not actually fully answering his questions… Their minds are your to warp… I mean, shape.
Have at them Professor…
PS: Damn wordsmiths – on the list.
Wow, damn. BKT seems pretty active for a damn wordsmith whose taking a damned hiatus. You all are so damnable and impressive.
Comment sent via Parsons Internet Diner and Plumbing Storage. Serving the Tri-County area and other areas close to, but not necessarily touching, the Tri-County area since the internet was young, even before the Martha Stewart conviction. Think internet…think Parsons…okay.
Ultimate Damned Haiku About A Hiatus
Take a hiatus
Damn wordsmiths need to shower
Every now and then
PS. Always thinking Parson!
Call it a spurt of activity during which I should have been writing. Or sleeping. Except don’t call it a spurt, because that sounds dirty. Call it a bout. Or a roundabout. Or a round robin, or a robin red breast or just a breast, but now we’re getting into dirty again.
Let’s call it Robin Hood. And then in the modern day spirit of Robin Hood, we can go rob a bank. It’s been ages since we all did something together.
Perhaps it’s time to kidnap FJ. He sounds sort of overwhelmed and angry. Maybe he could use a little fun in the form of (the Wonder Twin powers) us.
Woot!
Hah. Hang on… I’m still trying to figure out how and when you escaped!
Last time I checked you were in the backseat with a shandy in your hand.
Hmm, I must have fallen asleep.
Damn sleep.
*sigh*
Right beside you, Alan. Right beside you.
Hahahahaha!
Point and set, BKT.
Good luck on your songwriting career! That’s all I can say.
Why, spamwarrior…
I do believe you may not be 100% completely sincere with your well wishes about my songwriting career… In fact, I hasten to add that you might be teasing me.
PS: Too bad you flunked out of Bikini School. You showed a lot of promise.
Hah!!!
Good one!
Thanks! I haven’t given up. I’m going to give it the old college try and test my luck one more time at Thong Summer School.
I’ll start cramming now. That should prove to be painfully uncomfortable.
Would that be the “Old Clown College” try?
That would tie in well with the cramming idea, which is a word that should never, ever be associated with bikini wearing.
Hey! You have insulted my old alma mater. I graduated magna pie laude from Clown University, and we clowns from CU don’t take this kind of disrespect lightly. I’m putting on the big shoes, the squirting flower and then cramming into my exploding thong, and then me and 30 of my clown buddies are gonna roll and tumble into my little clown car and drive over to your house and entertain and delight your children.
Damn Clown Mockers.
On the list. “We mock best that which we fear most.” – Marky Mark, though sometimes attributed to the Funky Bunch.
You can send in the clowns, but make sure you bring wine. Lots of wine. I’ll be waiting.
Buckle up, I’m sending in the clowns!
Clowns and wine. Together at last.
PS. I thought it was, We fear best that which we mock most. — Insane Clown Posse
I think the line is “We fear clowns because they’re so fucking scary.”
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Ultimate Scary Global Warming Clown Haiku
Fucking scary clown
Rides on severed cattle parts
As the hot earth melts
P.S. Always thinking Milsons!
How about web goddesses with tattoos of recycling symbols? I sure could use some service.
The problem with cramming is that fat tends to roll over the edges, at which point you must trim them off as you would trim the crust off a piece of pie.
Ironically, pie is often one of the main culprits for the fat being there in the first place.
Jelly Belly Pie!
I’m sure the music was like nothing you’d ever heard before. With ambiguity comes great responsibility, use it wisely.
Sage words, bellakakgen.
And I shall heed them and honour them with as much ambiguous wisdom as I can muster.
I was hoping to find sacrilegious boobs in this post ‘cos that’s what was promised, where are they?
dave
I just Googled sacrilegious boobs, all that comes up is this site.
So they are here. You just have to look.
It’s kind of like an Easter Egg hunt. Instead there are no Easter Eggs, just sacrilegious boobs. Somewhere around here.
Mr. Hambidge,
I believe the sacrilegious boobs are all in the comment section.
Respectfully,
BKT
Right beside you!
Ouch! I walked into my filing cabinet.
Yuk, yuk, yuk! Garsh but that hurt!
Yowee! Ooh and owwee! Now I just walked into the wall. Who put that there?
Oh, oh spaghetti-ohs ….! I locked myself in my office — again.
It’s what we sacrilegious boobs do.
Guess I’ll have to eat my flowers if I want to survive. Never did figure out how to use these new fangled door knobs…
I was hoping for something along the lines of the great brit sitcom ‘allo ‘allo where the picture of ‘Fallen Madonna with the big boobie doos’ was a regular feature’
try
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SxxyfvXMkK4
dave
“It’s not derivative of…Sartre?
Maybe he has a head wound you’re unaware of?
It’s possible. That Sartre guy was always banging his head over some life questioning conundrum. He was a crazy mixed up existential bastard
Of course, he’s better known for creating the literary genre “Sartire” It was practiced by French intellectuals whose mandate was “Ridicule Today, For Soon We Shall Die!”
A hilarious bunch of existential dudes.
Wait… Are we taking about Sartre or Mark?
Ha. Mark, silly!
Ah, Mark.
Yes. He was brained by falling masonry as a young Neo Classical musician.
Tragic, really.
Mark Wahlberg? Does he know who Sartre is?
A hot intellectual? No way, dude.
And don’t say it, Alan. I already know.
Okay, I’ll keep my half-baked musings on the Critique of Dialectical Reason to myself.
Heavy Existential Sigh
Hi Alan,
Today’s posting about “Mark and The Stigmata’s” reminded me of something that happened to me back in my own working days.
As you know, I worked for a large company, and in the vicinity of their huge 24/7 call center. With over 200 full-time customer service folks, of course we had some who had been bitten by the, “show biz bug.” Enter, Christine,” who had PAID to have an album of her songs cut. In order to promote this release, she invited EVERYONE in the company to the show – at some two-bit club on the outskirts of Denver. So, after several nudging, a group of us ventured out to see the show.
About 10 PM, after we all had a few drinks from the bar, we took our seats in time to catch Christine making her debut. Christine was about 45 years old at that time, but was costumed as if she were 25 (mini skirt, white “GoGo” boots, and sporting an old-fashioned, Nancy Sinatra, flip hair doo). Okay, it was pretty bad – the 250 LB singer, and the gawd-awful songs. But, with a couple of stiff drinks under out belts, it was…tolerable.
The next day she was on us like a fly on dead meat. Oh, did I mention that we were the only coworkers (save her inner circle of about 5 other dowdy, overweight girls) who attended the performance?
Christine: “So, what did you think?”
Me: “Oh, it was great.”
Christine: “I had SO MANY people buying my CD after the show” (she sold about 20, mostly to relatives).
“Did YOU get one?”
Me: “No, I didn’t realize there were CDs…” (We only had to fight our way out the door past the hustlers of the CD…)
Now, fast forward a couple of months to our annual, “Christmas Party.” We had a “Grab Bag” for names, and we all looked forward to the party and gift exchange.
Yup, you guessed it: “I was handed a package, an obvious CD! And, yes, it was Christine’s CD.
A while later she found me and explained that she had, “Asked everyone” who had MY name – because she, “KNEW” I was the one who would appreciate her CD! Apparently, she had many left over from the release party – imagine that! No “Facebook” or “My Space” on which to peddle them back then…
I tell you Alan, for years afterwards, I would, in turn, give the CD as a Christmas or birthday gift to one of my friends who had attended Christine’s Release Party that night. And, they in turn, would pass it on to another… That was years ago, but we still laugh about it to this day.
Poor thing, she never did make the “big time,” or even cut another CD for that matter, would you believe??
Thanks for the funny memories today.
Sally P
The regifting of Christine.
Great story, Sally P!
Thank you. It was a hoot. I enjoyed every minute of it.
That reminds me of the year Kevin Federline released his album. I bought 3 of them for 3 different white elephant Christmas parties.
I was pissed that the guy at the store was
a. Laughing at me thinking I was a die hard fan and
b. Wouldn’t discount the $17 each for multi purchase since I was doing him a favor and clearing his shelves.
Hahaha!
Once again proving the theory that nothing good stems from a Kevin Federline CD. Or anything else Kevin Federline, for that matter.
Now I know who to turn to for titles of things… namely my book that I pretend I’m writing. I’m godawful at titled, but you, my friend, are awesome.
Dude. You rock.
Thanks Skatha!
I can’t muster up a comment for this one. Oh well.
I’ll accept an emotocon.
I was hoping for
Who the number one fan? Looks like you’re going to have to paint your nails black now. That will give you the edge look and get you more street cred. You should come up with a name for there new song like, The Paranoid rubber chicken. Sit on that one for a while. Sure it is a rubber chicken but he’s watching you or are you watching him, everyone is watching him, he’s paranoid. Anyways, I rambling, I am tired.
Eric,
You’re in good form for someone who’s tired. I’ll start thinking lyrics on The Rubber Paranoid Chicken and mike’s suggestion of Wordsewer.
Lots of potential material.
I may have found it anyway;
http://www.nme.com/video/id/7SNHKR9vnOs/search
I only hope that the GCHQ/CIA axis is not monitoring my webusage!
dave
Hah!
Well done Presidente Dave,
Good to know it’s out there.
And that is definitely “out there.”
Wordsewer
It can be profound or profane depending on how it’s pronounced.
Run it by Marc. He’ll probably like it.
I like it. A lot. I’m sure he’ll be over the moon. He considers himself profoundly profane.
Nice one, mike!
You’re quite lucky. Mark doesn’t seem nearly “intense” as to be the type to totally flip out on stage.
I.E. Bite the head off a dove or, if he was a girl, throw a blood soaked… er… feminine hygine product into the crowd.
There was a band in my neighbourhood who had a similar conundrum when it came to a name.
Orignially, they went with :
“The band formally known as that dude and that chick”…
But dropped it when they realised they were already being called that for quite some time by everyone else.
Finally, they settled on G.R.E.K. Initals for Goth Rock and Emo Kino. Rock is by far the mellow one as Kino used to wear part of her own earlobe in a vail on a chain.
Apparently, she lost it during a round of Rock, Paper, Scissors. Though, obviously, it was a variation of the game none of us are familiar with…
Hey eksith
Good call on Goth Mark. He tends to wave a lot of crosses, clutch his genitals and bark out a good game on stage but it’s certainly nothing even bordering on intense. Maybe intensely funny – at best.
He definitely doesn’t have the Kino deal going on. Now that’s intense! I admire her Van Gogh-esque dedication to her art. One also has to admire an emo that can out do a Goth rocker. I’m guessing that G.R.E.K have a bit of a screamo thing going on?
Screamo by sentiment most definitely.
Vocally, she is virtually angellic and almost enough to lull you into a comfortable cradle of ambiance.
That’s before you realise she’s singing about using an aborted fetus and its placenta as a pair of nunchucks.
I’m not sure how effective an aborted fetus and its placenta would be as nunchucks (sort of soft, I would think) but it’s certainly a bracing image. I’d be running the other way – that much I do know.
The angelic and lulling voice made me think that the band has musical moments that sound like rather intense lullabies… But then I remembered that lullabies are, as a rule, rather intense, aren’t they? Ring Around The Rosie is about the bubonic plague and Rock-a-bye Baby features a baby in a cradle that falls. Baby, cradle, and all.
Now there’s an idea!
You can incorporate lullabies since your position as muse left no boundaries.
Plagues and falling children… What a fine point of origin for a heartfelt lyric.
Well said.
They really are, aren’t they?
You just can’t have plagues without falling children. And vice versa. It’s kind of a dark and twisted symbiotic relationship. (I’m not sure if that means they kiss on the first date or not.)
I think it’s time to invest in a stun gun.
Ha!
Stun guns: The weapon of choice when it comes to taking down Goths.
Nice to see you, Gryph.
That’s horrible! Horrible because you would be bothered daily by this person! Avoid eye contact! Got me through today atleast. New girl at my new job has clung on to me… I’m going to have to start smoking again to keep her away from me.
It is horrible. And he’s one of the more semi-tolerable people here. I promise to avoid eye contact if you promise not to start smoking again. Deal?
Betty,
Clair Collins and I have agreed to start smoking again when we turn 70. I also plan to pick up the ol’ hookah and perhaps drop some X also. You’re welcome to join us, but you really should wait until you’ve one foot in the grave already. No sense leaving the party *too* early, you know.
Warmly, smokily, intoxicatingly,
BKT
And then, just after hitting “Submit Comment,” she had a vision of a seventy year old woman on Ecstasy, and was overwhelmed with nausea.
Ewwww.
Oh no, not me, I really like it!
Good drugs are good for everybody. I think I’m going to encourage the crabby old fart to try Ecstasy. He’d be a blast on it. All giggly and lovey-dovey. (Not that I see him doing it, but still, one can dream.)
And a 70 year old woman on E would be feeling too damn fine to worry about “ewww.”
We could slip him a McE!
Hahaha… I do know where he lives!!!
Who?
Where?
dave
Mills… Donald Mills.
Here…
http://crabbyoldfart.wordpress.com/
Sh1te, I had assumed that DM was a literary fiction. Will have to read back!
OOOOOOOOOOOPPPPssss
Dave
I bet after all my time away from smoking, the first taste would be awful.
Just like it was when I first started.
Alan takes a drag. Coughs. Says, “This is disgusting!” Then takes another…
Continue for 20 years.
Okay, count me in!
Smoking, dropping x, drinking, and if we survive the first night, we may do something really crazy the next day.
Hah!
And if not — what a way to go out!
WOW! you’ve joined a band!
You sure have some talent for writing lyrics, just like Mark said! LOSTL! THATS BRILLIANT!
ill be the famous actor and you can be the famous musician!
WE CAN TAKE OVER THE WORLD!
I hope you had a great day!
Bob
Bob!
Thank goodness you’re here.
Thanks for the lyric compliments, Bob. Much appreciated.
Hah… I’m trying to imagine a world run by you and me, Bob. We’d have fun, anyway.
I hope you have a wonderful day, Bob!
And now for something completely different by way of light relief;
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SeIzH1sfPiY
Volume up, disengage brain, activate humour centre and fly baby fly!!
dave
We have (some) lift off!
Thanks Dave! That was much fun.
Try saying “Mark, I need more of your music like I need holes in my hand!”
Who are the other band members?
Matthew, Luke and John?
I’ll try it. It’s catchy. But I hope not catching.
“Matthew, Luke and John?”
If they’re not — they should be.
You should offer to do the band’s pages on Facebook and Twitter if they are only on MySpace now.
Hahaha. Good idea, Jim!
I should also manage the band. And book all their gigs. And be their roadie. And what the hell, their groupie. Or groupie scooper.