Archive for February, 2013

How A Pope Is Elected

February 27th, 2013

As the Catholic Church is electing a new Pope, it’s time to expose how this process is done. It is a very complicated process, the details of which I will try to explain here.


  • Twenty-four Catholic Cardinals from around the world.
  • Two new pairs of pants (one denim, one khaki) with all beltloops intact.
  • Six jars of marmalade.
  • A tournament arm wrestling table.


  1. Host a single-elimination arm wrestling tournament between the Cardinals.
  2. The winner of the tournament gets to keep four jars of marmalade.
  3. The runner-up of the tournament gets to keep one jar of marmalade.
  4. The last jar of marmalade is thrown into a garbage can.
  5. The Cardinal who moan the loudest upon seeing the marmalade thrown away has to wear the khaki pants.
  6. The other Cardinals get to point and laugh at him for five uninterrupted minutes and he is escorted out of the building.

After that, the details get really fuzzy. I’m sorry.

Death Pool: February Update

February 26th, 2013

We’re nearing the end of February and in the DS Death Pool, 14 players have already had at least one hit.


The most impressive hit was whoever picked country singer Mindy McCready, who killed herself this month at the age of 37. That’s 63 points for her age plus 50 bonus points for suicide and now we’ve all got a lot of catching up to do.


The second biggest development in the pool was the death of Troggs’ singer Reg Presley, who died from cancer at age 71. Several of the players had the “Wild Thing” vocalist. I was not among them.


I have mentioned in this space that I picked Bobby Womack for my pool. So you can imagine my disappointment when I find out that the Womack who died on February 1st was not Bobby but his brother Cecil, age 65. Wrong Womack, obviously. Bobby could still go, I guess. There’s still a lot of time left on the shot clock.


To my knowledge, no one in the pool picked former Surgeon General C. Everett Koop who died yesterday aged 96. Perhaps they thought the four points to be not worth it. Perhaps we all thought he had died years ago and didn’t consider him in play. Oops. Likewise, none of us had Jerry Buss, owner of the Lakers. I guess he snuck by us.


My goal for March is to just to get on the scoreboard. It’s not important to take the early lead. This is a marathon, not a sprint. Hey Annette Funicello, why not choke to death on your own saliva? You can’t speak, feed yourself or move. MS has turned you into a wooden Indian. Take one for Team Prophet, eh? Or you, Hugo Chavez. You’ve been ready to go for awhile. Just do it, like they say in the Nike commercials. Sure, Sean Penn may not like it, but he’s not in our death pool (that’s not true, somebody picked him).


Space Babies

February 25th, 2013

Technology Vs. Horse, the musical combo in which I am the singer, is in some ways in a good place.


We all like each other. Not every band does. Like the Kinks. They hated each other and the two lead guys were brothers. Same with Oasis. And both times, the brothers fought the most. We generally get along, which means that our band is a better group than either Oasis or The Kinks. Whatever, Ray Davies. How many times can you re-write “You Really Got Me”? I’ll tell you. Once, for “All Day And All Of The Night”.


We are in a tough pickle at the moment, one that Oasis or the Kinks wouldn’t have to deal with. Next month, we will be losing our practice space. I won’t get into the particulars of this situation but we’ll have to move our gear out of the magic ballroom where we rehearse the embalming fluid-laced joints that you put in your earholes in live performance and on disc.


Many people tell us that they find TvH to be “tight”. Even if they don’t care for the material, fans and fellow musicians respect the high-wire act that we manage to pull off show after show. I hate to blow my own horn, but toot-toot bitches. Anybody can play in 5/8, but can they make it swing? Better yet, can they go 5/8 into 7/8 into 5/8 again into 9/8 in thirty seconds and have boppers boppin’ like it’s four-to-the-floor, daddy-o sugar pop jelly roll gum drop?


Look, I don’t know how the other four band members do it. I just sing over top and sell the material like a boss. Do you think TvH got tight by hanging out in the practice space and trying on each other’s Spanx like a bunch of Avon ladies? NO WE DIDN’T (well, once). And the safety of our creative routine is endangered.


This is going to give you the wrong idea. The band is good and is gonna stay together. We might be able to find a place in the summer but that’s a lot of time to go by. We’ll lose momentum, muscle memory. . . and six songs have been composed for the next TvH album that haven’t been recorded. Two of them haven’t been performed live. We must refine our works and develop new works and maintain playability on songs that are already on the setlist.


No Regrets, Pt. 2001 1/2

February 22nd, 2013

Once upon a time, I worked as a movie usher.


I regret working as a movie usher.


No, wait. This happened while I worked as an usher and during the orientation, employees were informed that they could not accept or solicit tips. One time after a theater emptied out, an customer (or “guest”, we had to refer to customers as guests) asked me for help as he lost his wallet in the theater. I helped him look for his wallet and handed it to him, whereupon he pulled out a $5 bill and offered it to me.


I told him I couldn’t accept it. I don’t regret not accepting the tip. I wouldn’t want to get fired on account of a measly $5 tip.


My main regret is that I didn’t hide the wallet on my person and tell the guy that if we find it, we’ll call him. Then wait for the guy to leave, pocket the cash and take the wallet to the lost and found and call the guy just as my shift ended to let him know that his wallet had been found. I wouldn’t take the guy’s plastic, just his cash. Because a $5 bill is a joke.


I’m too nice, you know that?

The Legend Grows

February 19th, 2013

2013: Frank Black was at Tidball’s? I can’t believe I missed it. What was he doing there on a Wednesday? There’s not a lot of people who go out on a Wednesday. Who was he with? Kentucky Prophet? I heard he knew that guy but that’s bizarre. Somebody should’ve told me he was in town. I would have taken my copy of Surfer Rosa over to have him autograph. He played Nashville the next night? Why didn’t he stay in Nashville then? Bowling Green is a dump.


2014: Remember when Frank Black was at Tidball’s? That was a lot of fun. I got his autograph on my copy of Surfer Rosa. Such a cool guy. I bought him a Natural Light and we talked about our favorite covers of his songs (Papa Roach’s “Gouge Away”, obviously). He said he was in Bowling Green because he heard Robert Plant had an house in town.


2015: Yeah, I was there when Frank Black showed up in Bowling Green. It was a Saturday night, and a lot of people were there to see the Sleeper Agent reunion show (so glad most of them survived the kidnapping attempt). I told Frank Black I was a friend of Mike Farmer’s. He said, “Who?” I said “Mike Farmer.” He said, “Never heard of him.”


2016: Were you there a few years ago when Frank Black played a secret show in Bowling Green? He played a secret show and played an acoustic solo set. He had too much to drink and he throat-chopped somebody. He’s taller than I thought he was. Good at fighting, apparently.


2025: Tidball’s was a bar that used to be in Bowling Green until the University bought the entire downtown area and had it razed the ground. A lot of bands played there, but all the bands that wouldn’t enter into indentured servantude to play Wednesday afternoons at the campus coffeehouse had their fingers lazered off, even the vocalists. I used to think Bowling Green was a terrible place to live. Now I realize it wasn’t so bad after all. Anyway, once upon a time Frank Black from the Pixies showed up and hung out once.

Touch Me I’m Sick

February 17th, 2013

I am sick. I can barely talk, I cough up sputum and my nose is stuffed. I feel every bit of horrible right now and have since Friday. My hope is that the clinic will be open on Monday but it is Presidents’ Day and I may be out of luck until Tuesday.


I performed a show on Saturday even though I was losing my voice. It was obvious listening to me, and I went and sang at practice before earlier that night which didn’t help. Essentially, I tried to sing two sets worth of music Saturday night only one was in front of people.


Was it worth it? Absolutely not. We played a fundraiser show for a local festival that is being played later in the spring. I should have told the festival people to fuck off. I should have told my own band to forget it. David prepared me a glass of hot water I could dip a teabag in. Normally I don’t drink tea.


Laryngitis? Common cold? Flu? Tumors on my vocal cords? What could the source of my sickness be? Bronchitis? Sinusitus?  Tongue dropsy? What has kept me from saying the fewest words I’ve said pound-for-pound in a single day? Why does my grandfather insist on talking to me and asking me questions when I can barely answer him? Questions, questions, questions.


I am not talking (very much) and I am drinking lots of liquids and I am trying to rest. This is the best I can do under the circumstances until I can get to a doctor. I am sick, impatient and grumpy with the world. I am gloomy because I love my voice and now I can’t use it.

Bret Hart’s Top 1000 Wrestlers Of All Time

February 11th, 2013

  1. Bret Hart (obviously)
  2. Stu Hart
  3. Owen Hart
  4. Jim Neidhart
  5. Gene Kiniski
  6. Rick Martel
  7. Jacques Rougeau
  8. Raymond Rougeau
  9. Jean “Johnny” Rougeau
  10. Jacques Rougeau, Sr.
  11. Don “The Spoiler” Jardine
  12. Bad News Allen/Brown
  13. Edouard Carpentier
  14. Vampiro
  15. Lance Storm
  16. Dan Kroffat
  17. Carl Ouellet
  18. Phil LaFon
  19. Dr. Tom Prichard
  20. Christian
  21. Sailor Art Thomas
  22. Horst Hoffmann
  23. Tom Pritchard
  24. Dewey Robertson, “The Missing Link”
  25. Waldo Von Erich
  26. Gene Kiniski
  27. Sweet Daddy Siki
  28. Salvatore Bellomo
  29. Thom Pritcherd


Can You Quack: A Complete Breakdown

February 4th, 2013

The video you may or may not be watching below is a live performance of a song informally titled “Quack Like A Duck” or “Can You Quack” by the G.O.A.T. (God Of All Texas) and his backing band, Your M.O.M.



I will attempt to chronicle what happens in the 2:53 of this video for the less-than-brave who can’t make it through such a video. You’re welcome.


0:00:  “Here it comes.” We have no idea who says this (perhaps the cameraman?) but considering what is about that happen, that puts it mildly. A voice is heard off camera: “Shut up and sing the song!”


0:07:  By this point, many of you have already clicked off on the video, as you can see that the G.O.A.T. is a gamey, bearded man nude but for a custom flag worn as a cape and a Texas-flag banana hammock which he proceeds to jiggle frenetically for an uncomfortably long time. His backing band (a bassist and drummer) have begun the song, but you likely missed that.


0:11:  The cameraman zooms in on the jiggling banana hammock, which may or may not be in time to the high-hat.


0:18:  The camera finally zooms out as the G.O.A.T. begins to sing his now-infamous lyric: “Can you quack? Can you quack like a duck when you suck?” The band is performing outdoors, perhaps at a backyard party. There is no guitar player. Perhaps they had a guitarist who quit the band due to embarrassment.


0:25:  It continues. “Can you buck like a horse when we fuck? Can you take every inch up your butt? Can you shit on my chest for good luck?” G.O.A.T. has not stopped jiggling his package. This might be a form of animal sexual presentation. I’m over-thinking this.


0:33:  A man in a black shirt, jeans and denim vest walks over to cup the G.O.A.T. man’s package as it jiggles. This has gone on for too long, and now more questions. Is this new man a biker? And there are people in the background! Is this a biker party?


0:43: Denim vest man is flicking the guy’s package up and down like a light switch and looking to the others off camera as if to say “Isn’t this something?” Exasperated, he finally grabs the tip of it before walking away befuddled.


0:52: After what feels like an eternity, the G.O.A.T. stops jiggling and enters a power stance so he can growl once more “Can you quack like a duck when you SUUUUUUUCCCCKKKK”, which leads the drummer and bassist into a very sad breakdown.


1:09: Aaaannnd he’s doing it again. This might be his only move. Why is the camera zooming in again?


1:18: I notice that he’s wearing red suspenders, too. Now that’s ridiculous.


1:26: Double-time breakdown over, they return to the main theme and the G.O.A.T. begins singing his infamous verse again. Repeating verses, just like Nirvana did.


2:02: “Can you fart on my balls when we fuck? Can you stick your whole tongue up my butt?” This is what we in the music trade call “variations on a theme”.


2:04: Mercifully, the camera pans to the right and we see that there are many, many people at this backyard shindig. What are they thinking as they watch this? Everyone in attendance maintains a very safe distance from the bandstand.


2:14: They return to the double-time breakdown that sounds really sad without a guitar player. I now believe that the G.O.A.T. fella rejected the idea of guitarist as it might distract from his lyrics.


2:19: There’s a woman at this party? That is one unfortunate girlfriend? “My last boyfriend was a web developer. My new boyfriend plays drums in a band. What band? I’d rather not say.”


2:21: A stocky kid  is trying to get a mosh thing going. It will not work. This party is being held in an ugly, barren backyard.


2:41: The kid who tried to do the mosh thing is now poking at the G.O.A.T.’s banana hammock with a tree branch. Clearly, this kid doesn’t understand the difference between good touches (denim vest man) and bad touches (poking a dick and balls with a tree branch). Even the G.O.A.T. turns away from this nonsense.


2:48: The song ends. A few people cheer. I have no idea why. Shock? Fear?


2:51: Someone in the crowd yells to the band, “Play that nigger song!” Somehow, this is not the most disturbing part of the video.