Archive for March, 2009


An article in last Thursdays edition about Reverend Jasper E. Van Flick contains the following error. The phrase “degenerate mule fucker” should read “tireless worker at a local homeless shelter. 
In last Sundays magazine section an article entitled Restaurant Radicals: The New Kitchen Socialism contained the following error. Chef WK LeSour’s dish, Beef Rangoon was described as “vomit inducing pool of undercooked bile.” This is a misstatement, it should read “delightful mélange of taste, aroma, and appearance”. Also in last Sundays magazine section the article entitled Neckbeards: Lincolns True Legacy had the following mistakes. The five quotes attributed to Mister Arthur Nudge are actually from a flock of Canadian Geese. The eleven references to the Empire State Building are actually references to Boars Head Olive Loaf

Desserts Named After famous People

These have been around for a long time, with the most famous being the Napoleon. History shows that the trend started in biblical times. The Old Testament describes “Moses Delight” an after dinner treat consisting of mashed foreskins blended with hair clippings served in a bowl of dust. The “Charlemagne’s Sweet” made up of quail eggs soaked in lavender served on the head of a peasant was famous in Europe around 800 AD. The post industrial revolution gave us many more desserts named after the famous and infamous. The “Kaiser YumYum” was enjoyed by Germany’s Kaiser Wilhelm. It was a boiled dove stuffed with mashed bananas and tamarind, during WW2 the name was changed to “Bananas Hitler”. The Clark Bar named after screen icon Clark Gable originally consisted of chocolate, semi-precious gems and cocaine, this recipe was too costly and was changed to the candy bar we know today. Finally, during the Viet Nam war a celebrity dessert was used as a protest with Chef Pepin LaMerde’s infamous “Nixon’s Regret” which was twelve figs in a napalm flambé served on a pigs bladder filled with childrens tears.

Notes from Das Boot 8

6/22/08 On the Bus Somewhere in Germany
Christ, this is the worst fucking bus we’ve ever had and we’ve been on some rattraps. The air conditioning is fucked and the ventilation is weak, so it’s hot and thick the whole time. I don’t sleep so much as pass out for a couple of hours. The downstairs smells like fermented piss or as Dave said “It smells like what a disease would taste like.” It’s pretty bad, LeRoi our bus driver has cleaned the bathroom with industrial strength cleaners but the stench remains.
3/28/99 Virginia (Monster Magnet opening for Manson tour)
The lights are being cut for the fourth time this tour. The tour isn’t making it’s nut, it wasn’t doing well when Hole was on it but now it’s worse. The smart money says big changes around the New York shows. Either the tour will end or we’ll be replaced by a cheaper middle band like Nashville Pussy who are the openers now. I hope we’re off it, this shit blows.


I think this happened in ’93, Monster Magnet was playing in Seattle at the Rock Candy. It was about two hours before showtime and Jon Kleiman and I were hanging outside. Ben Shepherd the bassist from Soundgarden pulled up in an old ford and Jon and I went over to talk to him. Jon knew him from a tour they did a couple of years before, I met him a few times and he was cool. He said we should get in the car because he wanted to show us something. Being idiots, we did and he drove off really fast. I’m fucking kidnapping you guys and taking you back to Bainbridge Island, it’ll be cool Dave (Wyndorf) will shit himself.” I had a horrible vision of Jon and I missing the show and me being fired, Jon thought the same and we were both a little nervous. Yeah Ben, it’s sounds funny and all but uh…we’re gonna get in a lot of trouble if we miss the show.” He’s now about ten blocks from the club and I see my future as a lighting guy vanishing by the second. “No, it’ll be fuckin’ funny, really.” “Look man, I’m gonna get fuckin’ fired, Dave ain’t gonna think this is funny.” He stopped short in the middle of the road turned to us and hissed “Get the fuck outta my car you pussies.” We walked the twelve or so blocks back to the club and I haven’t seen Ben since.

I Like records 8

A woman came in looking for a fairly recent Disney movie, Snowbuddies. I went to the Disney section where her son was pawing thru the DVD’s. This kid was a giant with definite emotional problems and he was completely in the way and wrecking the joint. “Phillip! Get out of the man’s way …Phillip!” she physically dragged him away which was no mean feat. This kid was hulking and had what is unfortunately known as “retard strength”, superhuman strength unencumbered by rational thought. “He’s just really excited.” She offered as an explanation. Phillip kept pushing his mom and me out of the way to get to the movies, “Snowbuddies! Snowbuddies!” “Phillip! The man is looking, Get…Out…Of…The way!” “Snowbuddies!” I found the movie Snowdogs and just said the word “Snow” before Phillip grabbed it out of my hand, “Snowbuddies! Snowbuddies!” “No Phillip! No!…The man was wrong, the man was wrong, Phillip are you sure that’s the title?” Phillips level of franticness went off the charts and he was knocking DVD’s all over the place, it was a mess. His mom had pretty much given up trying to restrain him, she was used to this drill and was way passed embarrassed. She was resigned to it and just kept saying “phillipstop…phillipstop…phillipstop.” Eureka, I found Snowbuddies, “Here you go, Snowbuddies” I handed the DVD to Phillip and he pushed it back, “NO!…NO!” “Phillip honey, it’s Snowbuddies…Snowbudies, what you were looking for.” “NO!…NOOOO!” As Phillip was pushing it to me, I was instinctively pushing it back to him, “Look man, It’s Snowbuddies, Snowbuddies, the movie you wanted.” “NOOOO!!” He grabbed my hand with the DVD in it and pulled it  across his face, more specifically his nose. I felt moisture on my arm and realized he’d just wiped his nose on it. Aauurghh! I yanked my arm away handed the DVD to his mom, went to the back to disinfect and hide until they left.

I Hate Me, Part 231,091


a dwarve, Mr. Cannotbenamed

The Dwarves record “Toolin’ For a Warm Teabag” (1988?) was kind of a big deal for me and some of my friends. It was noisy, fucked up, and mean spirited. Looking back, I’m sure Dwarves were playing it for a laugh but that was pre-internet and there was no info about them, just vague rumors of debauchery and great live shows. So I was pretty psyched when I found out they were playing CBGB’s. A few of us went up to see the show and we were anticipating an insane, no-holds barred punk rock spectacle. About ten minutes before they were supposed to play I went to the bathroom. I didn’t go to the one in CB’s which besides being legendarily disgusting was usually under half an inch of fetid water. I went next door to the CBGB Gallery which was a lot cleaner, took a piss and went back. I couldn’t have been more than five minutes. When I got back my friend Jim gave me a Whatthefuck?! look and told me I missed the greatest show he’d ever seen. Seconds after I walked out the front door the Dwarves got on stage and started playing. Halfway through the first song, Blag Dahlia the singer launched himself into the drum kit completely decimating it. The pissed off drummer started throwing his drums at Blag, the drums missed him but wound up in the crowd. There was some punches thrown, a bunch of shoving and everyone left the stage. Total show time, three minutes. I thought Jim was fucking with me until I saw various Dwarves picking up drum parts from where the audience was. That show took on somewhat mythical proportions, and I was reminded of it often, “Well you missed that fucking Dwarves show. That was the best show ever, by anybody. I can’t believe you fucking missed it to take a piss, you asshole.” I saw the Dwarves a few years later and they played about 20-25 minutes, which was way to long. Maybe three minutes was the right set length for them.

Notes From Das Boot 7

5/6/01 Nashville
Day off, went to see Cheap Trick and The Cult at some Nashville rock fest. I’ve never seen Cheap Trick and since we’re gonna be touring with The Cult, might as well see what we’re getting into. Only caught two songs from Cheap Trick (Dream Police, Goodnight) and it was real good. After the show, this (Merle) haggard old woman with hair like hay and teeth like tiny dice was harassing Cheap Tricks crew for guitar picks, “C’mon you faggots, I know what you wanna see!” With that she popped out two large and battered tits. The crew guys froze in mute horror, one of them threw her a pick. With that she turned to me and Dan and cackled “That always works…look, Dickey Betts signed my tit.” Either southern rock legend Dickey Betts signed her tit or she had an advanced case of melanoma.
The Cult came out and pretty much stunk up the joint. I can’t believe we’re gonna tour for two months with them. Ian Astbury (or “Eating Assberry”, or “Ian Outtagasbury”) came out wearing some weird black bandanna looking like he should be on T.V. telling fortunes with Miss Cleo instead of trying to rock. He taunted those who left early with such bon mots as “There goes some people who shop at IKEA.” This elicited neither cheers nor boos only the sound of 100’s scratching their heads wondering what the hell he meant.