Archive for March, 2009

Police Blotter, March 17th

Police Blotter, March 17th

A billboard for the “Friends Of the Snakes” foundation on rte. 22 in Bippo County was defaced and set on fire early Monday evening. Police are still investigating.

O’Malleys Wooden Staff Emporium (18 Finch Drive), was robbed at approximately 11pm Monday evening. Police say that three wooden staffs with a value of $100 each were stolen. A spokesman for the emporium describes the staffs as the “St. Patrick” model, a 4 ft. tall wooden staff in the shape of a stretched out snake. Police are still investigating.

The offices of Snake Herders Union Local 701 were vandalized early Tuesday morning. Police are still investigating.

The Dublin Arms apartment complex (7 Kranepool Ave.) was vandalized at 8am Tuesday morning. Approximately $500 in damages was done to the complex. The suspect is described by witnesses as being a late middle aged white male with a long beard, wearing a robe and carrying a large stick. When confronted by the landlord the suspect said he was looking to rid the area of snakes. The suspect escaped on foot before police arrived.

A burglary was reported at Snakeville Pet store, (75 Petstore Ave.) 11am Tuesday morning. Approximately 25 snakes were stolen. Police are still investigating.

An altercation Tuesday evening at O’Flannerhans Irish Trinity House Bar, 15 Oxnard Avenue is being investigated. A fight broke out at approximately 8pm between members of the staff and a patron who refused to pay the $5 cover charge claiming he was St. Patrick. The suspect described as an older white male, with a long beard and dressed only in a robe appeared to be drunk and caused approximately $2000 in damages with a large wooden pole he was carrying. The suspect escaped on foot before police arrived and witness’ say the suspect was followed by 10 to 15 snakes.

A man listed as “John Doe” was found unconscious at Heron Leg Park late Tuesday Evening. The man an older white male wearing only a robe is believed to be suffering from numerous snake bites and is in intensive care at Bonaparte Hospital.

I Hate Me, part 367,042

Yeah, I know it’s trite and really obvious and everybody and their brother has beaten it like a dead horse. I hate people who use their cell-phones on line…near me. It annoys the hell out of me. I’m on line for coffee this morning and this assbag in front of me is yappin’ full volume into his phone. The line is slow and I’m wishin’ I could beat him with tree branches until he pissed blood. He finally gets off the phone when mine rings and instinctively like the king of all hypocritical assholes, I answer it. It’s my wife and I realize what a douche-nozzle I am and I’m wishing that I could beat myself with tree branches until I pissed blood. So I talk real low, barely above a whisper and she can’t hear a goddamn word I’m saying. “Speak up, I can’t hear you.” “(mumbling) I can’t speak up I’m on line and it’s rude” “What? I can’t hear you, speak up.” “I CAN”T SPEAK UP.” “Well don’t yell, just call me back.” I hate me.

Spring (almost)

 

Robin (robot version)

Robin (robot version)

It’s just starting to get a little warmer and I’ve been noticing the Robins starting to come out in force. They’re standing around on the ground like little bird sentries. Worms should be scared.

Notes From Das Boot 4

5/13/02 Providence
We played Albany or I should say just outside Albany in a strip mall. Shitty club, shitty crowd, pretty much a mind numbing show. Local openers Pleasure Crush sucked out what little life there was in the crowd by doing horrible, ponderous versions of Beastie Boys songs while leaping about the stage. “WE NEVER DO WELL IN THE NORTHEAST” became kind of a nervous mantra as most of the shows up here sucked. Our next show was at another strip mall this time “just outside of “ Manchester, New Hampshire and was more of the same. The house lighting guy was an hour late and then told me that the lights and the lighting board were fucked and he thought I could fix it. I thought he was joking until I looked into his dead uncomprehending eyes and realized that he wasn’t capable of joking and then I wanted to kill him. Cooler heads prevailed and they got a new lighting board, something along the lines of “My First Lighting Board” but fuck it, it worked. The crowd was sparse but into it, so it wasn’t a total wash.
9/7/98 Springfield Mo.
The last of four radio sponsored shows this was by far the worst. The dump (30 minutes from Branson) we played at was an abandoned drive-in, with two stages set up. Production and catering were shitty, the field was real dusty with a lot of scrub brush and every step seemed to cause a bunch of locusts to fly up. Ten or twelve B-level bands played (ie: Brother Cane, Local H, Stabbing Westward). Anyhow we played at 3pm so there was no lights and I was on stage. This girl, skinny, toothy, Midwestern, washed out looking is pressed up against the barricade with a bunch of drunken idiots. She tries to get (the singer) Dave’s eye by tugging at her black bikini top. Dave’s not noticing as he’s working the 5,000 potential fans. Halfway thru the set, the girl in a last ditch effort to get noticed gets on somebody’s shoulders to crowd surf. As she was right in front to of Dave, she took off her top and with Laurel & Hardy like timing she was immediately tossed, handed thirty feet stage right over to the barricade and security. She was covering up in a mummy like fashion, and I didn’t see her again

I Like Records 6

hitler

hitler

hibbler

hibbler

Al Hitler
Middle aged guy, he’s a regular, looks like a scrawny version of Johnny Ramone and usually asks for oldies. Today it was Vaughn Monroe and Al Hitler. “I’m looking for Unchained Melody by Al Hitler.” “Are you sure it’s Al Hitler? ‘cause there’s a guy named Al Hibbler who had a hit with Unchained Melody.” “No, no I’m sure it’s Hitler. That’s what the guy on the radio said.” “Yeah, but Al Hibbler did the same song that you say Al Hitler did, and there’s no listing for Hitler.” “I’m sure it’s Hitler, whenever they play that song I listen real slow and the D.J. always says Hitler.” “Look man, I don’t know any performer who calls themselves Hitler, you know the war and everything.” “mmmmm…I still think it’s Hitler.” “Well we’re fresh out of Hitler, sorry.” “well, you say a guy named Hibbler did it? Maybe that’ll be o.k.” aaauughh!

Notes From Das Boot 3

4/14/01 Hartford
Loaded in at 9am this morning, well more like 10am as we left late from Buffalo (the other white meat). Unfortunately the show isn’t until 9pm tonight. Today’s comedy routine is another radio station extravaganza, six bands (us, Buckcherry, Taproot, Asspearl, Skrape, and Douche) and some kind of a local business fair. Booths selling or hawking everything from cell phones and Marine recruitment to tattoos and piercings. I have no idea why we had to load in so early, the band doesn’t have to be here until 7:30 tonight. We’re left with a shit dressing room and no shower and shitty catering with really horrible coffee. On the plus side our new stereo is really loud and the hypnotic tones of Godspeed You Black Emperor is drowning out the proceedings, so it’s almost like I’m home if home was a giant empty room with shitty plumbing.
7 HOURS LATER
Yeesh, this is sucking big time. The place is rotten with knuckle draggers, ne’er do wells, and other assorted scum. Posse’s of drunken staggering mullets. The tattoo booth’s are crowded with ugly, stupid people getting bad, ugly tattoos. Backstage is no better, unknown opening bands parading around the catering area with ripe girlfriends who are wedged into tight clothing. The girlfriends are flirting with members of more well known bands trying to “trade-up” as their boyfriends swagger around cocky and oblivious. The tour is still shaky and a most of it hasn’t been sorted out yet. There’s a lot of tension between the crew and (tour mgr.) Tony or as he’s been nicknamed “Craven Morecox”. Ugh.

Shit Chef 2

Less Than Professional:
1) A restaurant where I worked got a really nice review but the bulk of the article was praising our pastry chef. This made myself and the other cooks insanely jealous. Being childish and jealous is a large part of a cooks makeup, this is usually heightened by drink. So to get back at the pastry chef who’s only crime was to be good at his job, I bent back the cardboard cake circles his cakes were resting on and stuck olives up into his cakes. Customers were more dismayed than annoyed and the pastry chef was asked not to experiment with olives in any more of his cakes.
2) I wrote “fuck you” with the small lobster legs on a ten pound stuffed lobster that was ordered five minutes before we closed. The waiter got stiffed on a tip and I gave him a steak to make up for it.
3) I substituted a breaded piece of cardboard for the veal in a veal parm that was sent back three times. Nothing was wrong with the first two and I was betting they wouldn’t touch the third one, luckily I was right.