Wheeler's Dog

Bob Dylan 'Blood On The Tracks'

2010-06-25T13:29:00.003-04:00

After a long deliberation with myself and my associates... I have decided not to participate in much of anything today.

John Fogerty 'Centerfield'

2010-06-09T11:11:00.001-04:00

Jamie surprised me this morning. She told me that her friend was attending her son’s graduation today.

“I didn’t know that he was a senior,” I said. The last time I saw him, he looked like a fifth-grader. And as it turns out, he is until this afternoon when he gets a fifth grade diploma or a Chucky Cheese discount flier.

“He’s graduating elementary and going middle school next year,” Jamie explained.

Of course, I think that it’s stupid.

She continued, “It’s a milestone in his little life.”

It seems like every year a kid is graduating from something. It could be the second grade, the Home Depot project squad, or a move up to solid food. What’s the frakkin’ deal?

Do kids really need all that unnecessary attention?

Jamie said, “Moving up to middle school is a big deal.”

I disagree.

When they called it junior high, it was a big deal. It sounded like you were getting older and more responsible. The girls were getting rounder and bumpy in places that I never really noticed before. And I liked it.

Junior high sounded scary. Just the words “junior high” made me feel like I was walking into a jungle where a battle was about to break out on that first day.

Going to junior high was a rite of passage. For me, it was a place filled with different classrooms, loud ringing bells, stairs, and Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirts. And when I rode the bus, there were students from the nearby high school that was a football throw away. They were older, sometimes a bit more dangerous than my group of friends, and the girls were generally more voluptuous.

I was coming into junior high just as the hazing was coming to a halt. And if you’ve ever seen the film Dazed And Confused, then you know what I’m talking about. I experienced none of that, but I did hear some stories about overzealous paddling.

Junior high was a whole new world. It was a big deal.

So why have they changed the name? Why do they call it middle school now?

I don’t like it personally. Calling it “middle school” makes it sound like some kind of half-way house filled with ne’er-do-wells and kids that still drink juice out of boxes. It sounds like a place with no real direction… It’s in the middle… It’s not going anywhere.

If you call it a junior high school, then you know you’re going to move up. One day you’ll make it to high school and eventually become a senior… Lord over all. It sounds like you’re going places instead of sitting around in a classroom eating paste with Wildman Corey Casey.

Junior high is about dropping pencils to get a better look at your developing female friends.

Middle school sounds like you need to put on your mittens before going out to the school bus.

Junior high is about dodging that guy that likes to pop his mother’s prescription medication.

Middle school sounds like chicken nuggets served all day with copious amounts of chocolate milk.

Junior high is about skipping a class or two.

Middle school sounds like story time with Mr. Cotton and his hand puppets of make believe.

Junior high is about learning how to undo bras.

Middle school sounds like a place I don’t want to be. Period. It sounds like the play place at the fast food joint that you have outgrown. It even sounds like a mental institution to me… A reimagining of One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest.

I just don’t like it. Can we please go back to calling them junior high schools?

Jimmy Eat World 'Static Prevails'

2010-06-07T10:52:00.004-04:00

I am often amazed by the amount of people that check out wheelersdog.com. When I check the site stats, I find that a lot of people come here from a search page looking for information on an album title.

Here’s the deal… I only choose one musical title to drive around with during my day. It’s usually a compact disc and sometimes if I’m feeling particularly nostalgic, I’ll pack a cassette. If I’ll be driving somewhere more than an hour away, I’ll take my Zune MP3 player that’s loaded with over 500 albums.

And I’m not sure if I ever told you how this “sickness” came about.

I’ve always been about music since turning on my first transistor radio in the early 70’s. I listened to the radio at night in the darkness. And when I wasn’t listening to the radio, I was spinning singles on a small record player. Perusing through Hot Rod Magazine and listening to 45’s from the 50’s and 60’s was one of my favorite activities. I liked giving what I saw a soundtrack.

Music was always part of my daily experience and when I didn’t have a radio around, I would provide my own soundtrack by humming tunes that I made up on the spot. And I must say, my original incidental music was pretty damn kick ass.

I would spend my preteen Saturday nights tuning an AM radio on my parent’s old console stereo until the wee hours of Sunday morning. I could hear radio stations from as far out as Ohio and Texas.

I eventually graduated to recorded music because radio started to become sterile and formulated. I preferred LP’s over cassette tapes. They sounded better and I liked the idea of making compilation tapes, first on 8-track and then to the 4-track cassette. If something happened to the tape, I still had the LP as a back-up. When compact discs came along, I transferred those to Denon cassettes to listen to in my car and Sony Walkman.

My friend Tracy Thornton did the same sort of thing… Rarely did we have a prerecorded cassette tape. He used TDK and I used Denon and Maxell. And we both went with high bias tape.

Tracy would ride around the countryside in his convertible MGB with hundreds of tapes. I only remember him carrying one case that could hold up to 120 cassettes… Until it was stolen along with his tape deck.

He lost everything. From the rare stuff that we recorded up in Jonathan Everett’s upstairs loft to a taped copy of King Kobra’s ‘Ready To Strike’. All 120 cassettes were gone. The rare stuff couldn’t be replaced, but since I had the King Kobra on LP… All we needed was the time to rerecord it.

From that moment on, Tracy only carried one or two cassettes around with him. He wasn’t about to lose anymore rarities or not-so-rare stuff. I saw the logic in that idea. I didn’t want to lose a good chunk of my collection in an accident or have it stolen out of my car. A tape deck can be replaced, but a copy of Krakkin’ live at the GYC Carnival on a TDK was irreplaceable.

When I leave the house, I will usually take one compact disc with me to listen to while driving around. If something happens, I may only lose that one CD from my collection and hopefully it’ll be something that can easily be replaced. The loss will be minimal.

When I started writing this blog, I didn’t know what to title each day’s entry. Without a thought about it, I titled that first entry with my musical choice of the day. It gave readers an idea of what I spent my day listening to. I thought it may even inspire them to check it out for themselves.

I have kept with that tradition and sometimes if I’m feeling particularly good about a musical choice of the day, I’ll say something about it. But usually, I won’t say a word about it. It’s just used as the title and I may attach a video from You Tube if I feel that it’s a worthy choice.

When I see that someone found my blog from searching out “Gwar scum dog blogspot”… I have to wonder if they were looking for an album review. Because the site stats tell me that they didn’t spend a whole lot of time reading what they searched out on Wheeler’s Dog.

I started noticing that someone in New York City was constantly checking out wheelersdog.com and spending what I thought was an obscene amount of time here. As it turned out, they found an entry from July 29th, 2007 titled with Richard Kastle’s ‘Streetwise’. That person keeps coming back to that same page over and over again.

I did a little research and found that someone linked Wheeler’s Dog to a Richard Kastle page.

That’s totally cool and I appreciate it, but it has nothing to do with Richard Kastle’s music or leather jackets. It’s about my visit to a retailer looking for a laundry basket. Here it is.

Glucifer 'Tender Is The Savage'

2010-06-04T09:41:00.007-04:00

It’s been over a week and I’m still real good with the Lost finale. I have no complaints. I’m good with the 24 finale as well… Hell, 24 needed to go about 2 seasons ago. I managed through it all even if I did start a couple of seasons behind.

Actually, I did the same thing with Lost. I caught on at the right time.

I’m happy to hear that V has been picked up for another season. The momentum the series had was killed by the LONG hiatus that included the Olympics.

Stupid Olympics.

ABC executives please note… Hiatuses are no longer needed in this day and age of the DVR. If someone wants to spend their time watching fringe sports like curling while they record V, let them. The show will still have that following, but they’ll just watch it a little later. Ratings are important, but more episodes equal more DVD’s sold in the future.

You also did the same thing to Flash Forward. Long hiatus equals fewer viewers on the return. Unlike V, you gave this show the ax.

I’m good with that. The show just felt like it was going nowhere. I didn’t get attached to any of the characters and I think that was show’s main problem. It left on a high note full of possibilities with another “flash forward”. It’s all left up to your own speculation and imagination.

Fringe ended real damn cool. And if you’re not watching this Fox show, do yourself a favor and get caught up before the next season. It’s a helluva ride for geeks and non-geeks.

During the past season, I became increasingly disturbed by a seemingly out-of-control trend concerning young male characters. The networks have been engaging in “Operation: Wussification”.

There are a lot of series out there with sensitive young males who are led around more by their emotions than their peckers. And that, ladies and gentleman isn’t right. It goes against the natural order of things. That’s just not the way it is in our species. Things are just understood. The males are the horn-dogs and I expect that in my movies and television. It’s been that way for a very long time.

Sure, we had our tough guys with a sensitive side… But we didn’t have 126 channels filled with “Angel” (Buffy The Vampire Slayer) and “James Hurley” (Twin Peaks). That excess gets disgusting and I totally blame the whole damn Twilight series of books, t-shirts, movies, shot glasses, and feminine napkins.

The young males in V and Happy Town (a fine show that is going bye-bye – see it while you can) have been making me sick. They’re just too damn sensitive. They weep and pine. They take their love troubles out on everyone else by moping around in their pre-Goth hairdos listening to whiny emo bands.

Ladies… Guys like that aren’t real life. And maybe that’s why you buy into the whole romance novel and Twilight thing… The young males being portrayed today are kind of like puppies filled with unconditional love that get big-eyed and hurt looking when they displease you.

It’s a fantasy. And the last season of television series were selling those sorts of fantasies on genres that shouldn’t have them.

The sensitive tough guy is much more believable and less alienating to the general television watching public. We like our Jack Bauer’s, our Sawyer’s, our Sayid’s, our Spike’s, and our Barney Stintson’s.

And they don't disgust us with their lack of testicular fortitude.

I’m sick of this “Operation: Wussification”. The tentacles are digging deep in every genre of television out there. Something must be done, ladies and gentleman. It’s down right disturbing. We need more “I’ll do any female in the Universe” characters like Captain Kirk.

Def Leppard 'High n' Dry'

2010-05-26T12:44:00.003-04:00

I’ve been thinking about trying standup comedy again. Doing standup was a dream of mine back some time ago. I tried it once at an open mic night and quickly went down in flames. I couldn’t understand how it happened. I had studied under some of the masters… Comedy masters like George Carlin, Bill Hicks, Bill Cosby, and Cher. Standing on a stage with only the sounds of clinking glass and cigarettes being lit can be a very lonely place. It means that you’re not standing in front of your target audience.

But I gave it a shot. And for some strange reason, I’m feeling the desire to pull that trigger again.

I came up with the ice breaker and that seems to make people laugh. The rest of what I’ve got so far is a little out there. That shouldn’t surprise most of you. I’m always springing the “Operation: Little Dog Urination” on people and that brings a laugh. Or at the very least, a strange look accompanied with a hesitate smile… So I know that’s funny.

Urination stories are always funny because it’s something that we all know about. If you’re breathing with lungs, there’s a good chance that you urinate often. It’s pretty much a universal subject with creatures that understand abstract thoughts. And that’s where the comedy cranks up.

For example… My friend Jon went to a family reunion in the great state of obesity, West Virginia. And I’m not saying that as a put down because I was born in that great state and do what I can to represent, know what I’m saying?

So all jokes aside… The host family had a huge spread for everyone to enjoy. The kids could run free and loose. The adults could hang under trees and around the grill. From what I remember Jon telling me, it was pretty much a hillbilly orgy of gelatin, watermelons, and fatty foods.

The host family had a large, fully enclosed pen on the property. That’s where they kept the pet crow. I don’t remember him saying whether or not it was some sort of rescue deal where they kept the crow because of an injury. Jon found it highly unusual.

When the family gathered around the tables to put on their feedbags, there was a terrible squawking coming from the crow’s pen. All heads turned to see some 6 year-old boy chasing the crow around inside the pen while urinating. Jon said that the crow was flapping its wings and making as much racket as it could. The droplets of urine being flapped off were turned a bright golden color as the sunlight lit them up. Some members of the family found it rather amusing… Especially Jon who couldn’t stop laughing.

Of course, the immediate family members of that 6 year-old were completely mortified.

So… Urination is always funny. It always has been. Why do you think there are so many euphemisms about it?

Draining the lizard
Walking the dog
Going to see a man about a horse
Number one
Feeding the goldfish
Take a leak
Check the creek temperature
Make water
Drain the main vein
Point Percy to the porcelain
Siphon the python
See someone about the plumbing
Shake hands with the unemployed

That last one is a new one for me and I like it. If you’ve got any more to add… Why go right ahead!

If I do get a stage show worked up, I’ll be sure to tell you the where and when.

Black Sabbath 'Born Again'

2010-05-23T20:51:00.004-04:00

Lost is coming to a close this evening. While many “losties” are out there partying it up, I’m listening to Lenny Kravitz and writing on a laptop computer.

Should “lostie” be capitalized?

Like Trekker or Trekkie?

Jamie says that I should because it’s a proper noun. Or something like that.

I consider myself a Lostie. I almost gave up on it during the third season until a fellow Lostie told me to hold fast. Everything will have its rhyme and reason.

I’ve been asked if this will be an emotional evening for me. It’s a show that I will watch during a housefire. A fireman would have to drag me out before the next commercial break. That’s the way it is. And soon, it’ll be the way it was.

It’s not a sad event. The show has run its course. The show had a bumpy road that only a select few made it through. Lost tested the viewer. It required thought. And Losties threw theories around the water cooler like Jenna Jameson tosses back sausages.

This is a celebration of a fine show that’s leaving on its own terms. We may tear up… Especially, if they kill off a one or 6 characters… But Losties are having a party, people. Right this second… With 34 minutes until the final episode airs.

I’m kind of glad to see Lost go because it’s ending on a high note. That is, of course, as long as the ending doesn’t suck. But that’s a subjective thing.

I’m sure they’ll give us, the Losties, an open ended departure that will arrive again at a later date. I wouldn’t object to a movie.

What were the greatest series enders for me?

Obviously, Newhart comes to my mind first. Malcolm In The Middle had a great ending that left on a positive note for the main character. I dug the final Battlestar Galactica.

I didn’t care for the last Seinfeld. It left me scratching my head. Although I’m torn on how I feel about the final episode, The Sopranos ended with a sour note on me.

The final episode of The Sopranos had a profound effect on how I hear Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believing”. Whenever I hear about a small town girl living in a lonely world, I stop and ponder about Tony Soprano. I wonder if he’s still seeing a therapist. I wonder how the rest of the family are getting along. The possibilities are how I see them. And that’s the part that I like. It’s still open for debate. Closure isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.

The Mary Tyler Moore Show did the same thing with “It’s A Long Way To Tipperary”. I’m sure I’ll never hear the song blasting out of a SUV anytime soon. But if I were to hear that tune in passing, my thoughts about the WJM gang can go to any possibility.

No sadness. Everything and everyone should be lucky enough to conclude on their own terms. It’s not always possible, but either way we carry the memories along for the rest of our journey.

Or buy the whole thing on DVD.

Various Artists 'Various Sh*t Volume 19'

2010-05-20T09:49:00.003-04:00

Just a quick update on this busy morning...

Remember my take on the Chevrolet Caprice Classics roaming the streets with product, team, and comic hero logos?

My sister Tina told me about a car that she's seen roaming around Greensboro. She managed to find it in a parking deck. Here are the pictures she snapped with her cell phone.

Thank you, Tina.

Now I love me some Texas Pete, but I just can't see painting up my vehicle with their logos and not receiving some kind of payment.

I've heard rumors that those cars are gang related, but I don't know. Seems kinda weird to me no matter why the reason. But to each their own.

Jason Ringenberg 'Day At The Farm With Farmer Jason'

2010-05-13T11:30:00.001-04:00

Have you ever wanted to tell a friend something and you didn’t want to hurt their feelings?

I’m dealing with that sort of situation right now.

Back in my younger days, I wouldn’t hesitate to say something. I peed into the wind and didn’t care about any kind of blow-back. It’s not that I intentionally wanted to hurt anyone’s feelings… It’s just that I didn’t feel like taking the time to be concerned about those feelings.

Now that I’ve gotten a bit older, I feel differently about those kinds of things. I don’t want to hurt any of my friends in the slightest. Perhaps it was the arrogance of youth, I don’t know.

Here’s the rub…

I avoided all the stupid “cool” handshakes growing up. There were types of handshakes that required a manual to figure out. If you were naturally coordinated, I wasn’t, it was a breeze to learn some handshake that bordered on sign language. I just thought they were ridiculous and wanted no part of them.

I didn’t even really care for “giving five”. But it seemed quick and painless. So I didn’t really fight that one much. Even though I accepted the “giving of five”, I didn’t really practice it all that often. I didn’t need the slapping of hand flesh to celebrate some event.

Then the “high five” came along and I didn’t care much for it. I didn’t ridicule others that did it… I just left people hanging as I said, “I’m sorry. I don’t high-five.”

It just seemed silly to me. And even as a group of my Washington Redskins calling themselves “The Smurfs” celebrated in the End Zone with arm swinging and a group high-five money shot, I couldn’t get behind it. I resisted.

The trend as of late is the fist bump. And there seems to be more and more “cute” little movements evolving from that one. One especially annoying is the “explosion” of the fists after being bumped. I think they refer to it as the “fist grenade”.

After meeting some friends at a birthday get together, Jamie informed me that I left our new friend’s fist hanging several times. Since I don’t participate in those types of things, I don’t know the tell-tale signs of an oncoming fist bump. I had no idea that the guy was signaling for a bumping of fists.

I made an effort to bump fists the next time we met these friends for dinner. I kept an eye out for extended arms over the plates in case he was initiating a fist bump. I managed to catch a couple of them and Jamie seemed proud that I didn’t leave him hanging. Once we were in the car, I made it known that I didn’t like doing it. It made me feel dirty and untrue to my nature.

Just a couple of weeks ago, I met this friend in downtown Winston-Salem for a few drinks and a bite to eat. We bumped fists a few times and I still couldn’t get mentally behind such an action.

Something has to be said. I can’t go on living in a fist bumping lie. I’m not a fist bumper. I never wanted to be one. It seems silly to me. I should be totally honest with this relatively new friend of mine, right?

I’ll clink glasses. I’ll wink. I’ll give a thumb up. I’ll flash an “okay” sign. I’ll get on a mountaintop and send a smoke signal… I just can’t fist bump anymore.

Lynyrd Skynyrd '1991'

2010-05-05T12:17:00.002-04:00

As you can tell, I haven’t updated this thing in over a week. I’ve been in a really bad funk because I’ve had to return my Rams gold and blue Escalade. I lost money buying a one-way, first class ticket to St. Louis. And now I’m stuck with a silver grill that slips over my front teeth. It’s not like I can wear it anytime I want… Since there’s St. Louis Rams all over the thing, it would be an insult to my lifelong following of the Washington Redskins. And I can’t sell it because it was custom fitted for me.

I’m bummed because it wasn’t me that was drafted by the St. Louis Rams. It was some cat from West Texas A&M that is riding high. Again, not me.

Deep down inside, it was too good to be true. To be totally honest… I thought The Secret was finally giving me what I wanted. An ultra-huge mansion complete with cock fighting ring in the basement (people are still too touchy about the dog fighting deal), a gas-sucking SUV with a big screen plasma HD-TV in the back, and strippers, strippers, strippers. Oh, and I forgot to mention firearms. I wanted plenty of firearms and maybe a leopard.

My dreams came crashing down when I finally got someone in the Rams’ front office. The intern that I spoke to was laughing his ass off when I asked about picking up my signing bonus, when training camp starts, and how many tickets I could get for friends and family.

He told me that I was one stupid mother… You get the rest.

I hung up the phone and immediately returned the Escalade and cancelled a few hundred checks. I also had to call off the three strippers that were home shopping in St. Louis for me. It was horrible!

I’m not too happy with The Secret these days. Reality bites, my friends. And she really clamped down on my gonads this time.

But I’m not going to harbor any bad feelings for the Eugene Sims that signed on with the Rams. I’m going to follow the guy’s career simply because he has the same name that I do. I mean, seriously… When will I ever have a more famous namesake?

First of all, just about everyone has a song out there with their name in the title. Eugene is no exception. The only one I know of is Pink Floyd’s “Careful With That Axe, Eugene”. This, of course, gives the general public that Eugene’s aren’t the most decent guys on the planet. Perhaps they’re homicidal maniacs.

And second, Eugene’s are portrayed as some of the geekiest people on Earth. People expect that anyone named Eugene must be socially inept or extremely disturbed.

So I will follow this cat and see if he brings any honor to the name I have. Hell, he can’t hurt it any.

Heart 'The Essential Heart'

2010-04-27T13:48:00.005-04:00

My friend Tim Beeman congratulated me this past Sunday evening. He was the first to give me the good news… I had been drafted by the St. Louis Rams!

I’m the Rams’ latest defensive end, but I haven’t seen any paperwork yet. I haven’t heard about whether there’s a signing bonus either. The whole thing is like a Hollywood movie! I can’t believe that my football career that involves only one year playing at Northwest Guilford has blown up and brought me to the big leagues. My bags are packed and I’m ready to take my place in or near the city with an arch stretching over some river.

I wasn’t that good back then because I simply wouldn’t memorize the plays. I remember Coach Brown saying, “Sims, if you learned the plays you’d be dangerous.”

I was playing on the defense and since my mission was to stop the guy with the ball and take it from him, why memorize some stupid play?

Defense is simple. Stop the person with the ball and take it from them. There was no need to complicate things with X’s and O’s and lines with pointy things on them. Go after the person with the ball. The St. Louis Rams know what they’re doing and I have been justified.

I’m 43. My eyesight requires that I use reading glasses now. I think arthritis has settled into my hands and my stomach is as sensitive as a baby’s butt now. I get strange stabbing pains that come and go like flash floods. I don’t understand the appeal of the “screamo” type of hard rock that is filling the ear holes of our youth. And my girlfriend doesn’t remember Barnaby Jones.

But here I am! Ready to take my place alongside the notables in Rams history… Like Jack Youngblood, that famous black running back, and Warren Beatty.

My life now has a storybook plot and I couldn’t be happier. I’ve placed several calls to the Rams’ front office, but haven’t heard anything back yet. I’ve called ESPN and left a few comments, but since I don’t watch that network on even a semi-regular basis, I don’t know if they’ve used my comments. I’ve also made myself available to all of the local television and newspaper sports departments, but I kept getting disconnected.

I was about to give up on living the American Dream. Oh sure, I’ve had my share of strippers, firearms, tattooed women, DVD’s, Ford vehicles, rolling luggage, and prescription drugs. But I never thought that I’d ever be playing football in the National Football League.

I don’t even know how they got my résumé. If this is dreaming folks, I don’t want to wake up.

I’ve started taking better care of my health since I heard about being drafted. I have a lot of work to do. I’ve got to trade in at least 80 pounds of my manly girth for muscle and it’s not going to be easy. But since I’ve made it to the big time, I’ll just hire a trainer and become buff overnight.

Wish me luck! I hope to make the people of St. Louis proud without an embarrassing sexual liaison on or near an Interstate highway.

I will also keep every one of you informed. Remember… My journey wouldn’t be complete without you going along. I love you all!

The Doors 'Live In Pittsburgh 1970'

2010-04-18T11:20:00.003-04:00

I’ve been keeping my mouth tighter than Ann Margaret’s skin about the whole Tiger Wood’s thing. I’m sure you’ve been wondering to yourself… “What does Eugene think about that Tiger Wood’s fiasco?”

Why haven’t I said anything yet?

It’s because I really don’t care about his infidelities and carousing. And besides, it’s really none of my business.

Perhaps I’m wrong, but I think most affluent men that play golf in their spare time are probably playing another back nine behind closed doors with or without their wives knowing. And maybe I’m wrong again on this count… Money attracts women like cartoon coyotes to Acme products.

In Tiger’s case, he’s got money and he’s got celebrity status. So with that going on for him, I’m sure he’s had the same odds of contracting a venereal disease as Gene Simmons. The little head is going to do some of Tiger’s thinking when beautiful blondes want to do all the things that maybe his wife and mother of his children won’t do anymore.

Again, it’s none of my business and I don’t care how Tiger sinks a putt at the local Hooter’s.

What kills me is why his wife did what we all think she did. Does she even realize what she has done?

In my eyes, she shot her own foot if she did in fact “go all ballistic”.

Her “going ballistic” seems like a good theory simply because I don’t know too many people that would leave home in the middle of the night without shoes. Much less with golf clubs sticking through the broken windows of an expensive SUV.

What astounds me is the fact that she’d want to stop all those sponsor bucks from hitting the bank?

I’m not going Jamie Foxx and calling her a “Gold Digger” or anything… She may well love the guy for who he is. Ahem. But some of that sponsor dinero has dried up because of his confessed extracurricular activities. I don’t really think its fair, but that’s the way those sponsors want to play ball even though more than a few of those corporate executives do a little extracurricular balling themselves.

Did Mrs. Woods not expect him straying from her dam when so many beavers are throwing themselves at him?

Come on and get real.

I’m real and that’s why I wouldn’t have said a thing about it to him or anyone else. I would’ve kept right on taking those checks to the bank, purchasing Prada, and maybe find some action my damn self. And I’m talking about the kind of action that money can buy to keep me happy. I’d take trips to catch all the concerts I’d want to no matter where they are… And I’d take the kids with me.

I know the old adage, “Money doesn’t buy happiness”. That always seemed like a joke to me. Twenty bucks can buy me serious happiness at East Coast Wings. I can imagine what kind of happiness that twenty million can buy… KISS concerts in Europe complete with backstage passes, Cheap Trick playing louder than a NASCAR race in my backyard, and financing a film with Drew Barrymore naked all the way through.

“Just keep playing golf, honey. Sign with those potential mulit-million dollar sponsors so we’ll have unlimited cars, goods, and services. Oh… You’re doing three blondes in our hot tub while a nun slaps your ass with a yardstick? That’s all right, baby. As long as you’re able to make an “X”, you do whatever you like. I support you and your needs, darlin’.”

Why would anyone want that kind of gravy to stop flowing?

No matter what kind of lumps come along with that gravy, it just astounds me. And now you’ve heard my thoughts on the subject.

Cracker 'Gentleman's Blues'

2010-04-16T09:55:00.003-04:00

Back some years ago, I was involved with a developmental show on Rock 92. Weather Dave and Will Bastard were the main players with me as the producer and call screener.

Trust me, there weren’t that many callers. Especially on a Sunday afternoon.

Since my personal life didn’t include a woman at the time, the guys thought it would be a hoot to get me dates from a website and talk about it on the air. At that particular point in my life, I couldn’t get a date to save my big white butt. I was having one of my full-on dry spells.

Those dry spells weren’t unusual for me. Just like anything else, it was a cyclical kind of thing. From about 18 to 24, I enjoyed a wonderful period of female bounty. My friends were referring to me as the “chick magnet”. I was playing the field like both Ken Griffey and Ken Griffey Jr.

And when it came crashing down, it went past the basement. Like The Byrds have sung, “To every season… Turn, turn, turn”. To every down side, there’s an up side. I just had to be patient and ride it out.

I found different hobbies. I read more. And I got to know my friends better whether they liked it or not. I was a nuisance to my family.

Dave and I searched around different websites looking for something free since we had no budget for dating shenanigans. After conferring with Josh from the Murphy in the Morning show, I went with one of the more adult dating sites. A site that was basically a meat market with a few misguided individuals actually looking for true love.

I signed up and got a few nibbles. Since I wasn’t a paying member of the site, I couldn’t return any of those nibbles. And to be quite honest, I didn’t have to since that dry spell was being washed out by an unexpected monsoon.

We never fully realized the idea on the Weather Dave Will Bastard Show and that was probably a good thing. But to this day, I still get updates on “Hotties I should meet in my area” from that website. I never deleted my free membership and I haven’t logged in for years. I’m not even sure that I remember the password.

I read every one of those updates from the website because they’re so damn entertaining. Here are a few examples:

30-year-old woman from Winston Salem, North Carolina.
"i like having fun life is to short not to ball out of control"

36-year-old woman from Alamance, North Carolina.
"i am looking for someone who does not need to be here"

32-year-old woman from Danville, Virginia.
"I am a sexy chocolate 23 year old female who loves anal action and swallowing."

30 year old woman from Pleasant Garden, North Carolina.
"My husband has cheated on me and I have been a good and faithful wife for 25 years."

You can make your own jokes with each entry. Many of them have lots of misspellings that aren’t on purpose. I also get the feeling that a few of these women that say they’re in town for a few months are making a quick buck by using these sites for their independent contracting business… If you know what I mean.

Sometimes pictures will accompany the update, but they usually say they’re too erotic to be shown or they have a silhouette of a woman or couple. Yes, couples are out there trolling too.

One of the funniest pictures attached to a profile had a more than shapely 30 year-old woman from Stuart, Virginia with short hair standing next to someone’s grave. Why this person chose a gravesite photo for her profile is beyond me. I know that a tombstone doesn’t really fire up my passion for red hot romance, but to each their own I suppose.

Every update is a source of a few laughs for me. And I like to share a few with Jamie, my girlfriend. She seems to be just as sick as I am.

The Beatles 'Live At The BBC'

2010-04-13T10:53:00.002-04:00

Do you remember your first trip going through a fast food drive-thru?

I don’t really recall that many drive-thru trips because my father didn’t like them. He was always saying that if you wanted your order wrong, take the drive-thru. He preferred talking face to face with someone over three feet of counter space between them. He was convinced that talking through an intercom system meant that you’d get a screwed up order every time.

I’m not like my parents or sisters. I don’t like pickles. I don’t like onions. And that’s the way most fast food came… Prepared with standard ingredients everywhere… Ketchup, mustard, and pickles. There were onions added to that trio over at McDonald’s. We rarely went to McDonald’s because of their liberal use of onions. I remembered being grossed out when I found a tiny piece of horrible onion on one of my French fries. I couldn't sleep that night.

Burger King will forever be remembered for giving me my liberty when it came to fast food. They had a promotion with Harlem Globetrotter Meadowlark Lemon where he stacked up Whoppers with every combination Madison Avenue could think of.

It was sweet liberty! I was able to have my father order my cheeseburgers plain with ketchup. No more scrapping off pickles that left their nasty taste residue all over the meat and soaked into the bun. I was free to have my burger “My Way” at Burger King. I felt like my tastes and preferences mattered. I felt like I mattered.

I didn’t realize back then that I could have ordered anything at McDonald’s the way I wanted. I had no idea that I could make a “grill order”. I’m sure that my father withheld this information because he liked going in and getting out at or near record time. Burger King’s ad campaign changed all that with his picky eating little boy.

I didn’t eat regularly at McDonald’s until the introduction of the Chicken McNugget. I could see that no foul onions were added to those deep fried chicken parts. So I’d go in and order me some Chicken McNuggets and finally, for the first time in my life, enjoyed me some McDonald’s without the scrapping of pickles and onions. In my little world, it was a joyous occasion and I can point out the place where it all happened. There's now a Rite-Aid where that Mickey D's once stood near the Janus Theaters.

I realize now that my father enjoyed the “fast” part of fast food. He didn’t like grill ordering because it was easier to order something prepared and sitting under heat lamps. He just couldn’t get into the drive-thru state of mind to complete the whole concept of modern and quick fast food.

I adapted to it reluctantly because I had fears of messed up orders prancing about inside my head like Scott Hamilton. I would go inside to make my special orders unless I just felt like throwing caution to the wind or I went out to grab something to eat in my “shouldn’t go out in public” condition.

Nowadays, it’s about 50/50. I prefer going inside to order, but sometimes I just don’t feel like leaving the radio or my Zune. It’s just easier not to leave the car and there’s a screen posting your order so you can make sure it’s correct.

I don’t know who came up with that concept, but they should have a small statue of them erected with a small surrounding garden at every fast food joint.

But there’s something that’s started troubling me when I get to a drive-thru… The drive-thru attendant is usually required to say something like, “Welcome to Barney’s Burger Bungalow! Would like to try our latest marketing tool? It’s only available for a limited time. It’s our finest crap piled high with lots of fancy toppings and a cute name. Would you like to order one or seven?”

I usually respond with, “No thanks. What I would like is…”

Or sometimes I just ignore them and give them my order, but that feels mean. It’s not their fault that they have to push the corporate line. I just get tired of it. If I wanted the chocolate covered pork chop with cheese biscuit this morning, I’d frakkin’ ask for one.

How do you cope with this popular trend of drive-thru jockeys trying to force feed you the latest and greatest in hip expanding fast foods?

Baby Animals 'Baby Animals'

2010-04-07T13:04:00.002-04:00

The update I posted last Saturday was difficult to make. I’ve been having some Internet issues at home and it turns out (after the third customer service person within the last month) that the modem has been on a defective list. So it all depends on the modem whether or not I can get online. It’s kind of like having a bi-polar girlfriend… One minute, all is cool and groovy. The next, she won’t talk to you while she cuts your face out of photographs.

It has been royally sucking.

--Are you watching the final season of Lost?

I am and I’m digging it! Hopefully all the answers I’ve ever wanted will answered, but I’m sure they’ll leave something open for a “return” to the island 2 hour event. I say “event” because that’s the latest buzz word to make it seem more exciting for viewers. It also makes you feel less guilty about sitting on the couch for two hours while giving your fingers a thick coat of orange from the Cheetos.

Before the Lost episode on March 30th, I was watching the tail end of Dancing With The Stars. It was the result show and they were kicking off one of the Stars. I don’t remember which one, but I have a sneaking suspicion that it was that black-headed girl from Beverly Hills, 90210. You know… The prima donna that could only wash her hair with Evian water and drink only coffee where the beans were picked by Buddhist midgets or something like that.

But I’m sure she’s been humbled since her fall from the big time. After all, she was on Dancing With The Stars and that seems to be the recovery place to land. So who knows…? Maybe she’ll rise again and maybe… Just maybe… Do a nude scene or two. That would be good!

Sorry, I got off track.

When the show ended, they had the male host reminding viewers that an all new final season episode of Lost was immediately following. And what made it hilarious… That host mentioned Locke and the smoke monster.

Now to the uninitiated, that would just sound crazy and cause one to immediately turn to another channel. Because if you haven’t been watching, hearing someone tell viewers that there’s a “smoke monster” coming up on a Network television show would cause you to clear your ear canals and say “What the what?”

Just hearing the host’s smooth voice deliver that information was hysterical to me. Was it to anyone else?

It must have because they host didn’t really elaborate about the goings-on with Lost when they ended their broadcast. It was just straight and to the point.

Crazy.

And for those that do not know... The title of each entry is my musical choice of the day.

A.F.I. 'Decemberunderground'

2010-04-03T17:10:00.003-04:00

I’ve noticed a growing trend among car people. And I say car people, because women are just as much part of the scene as men. I don’t personally know any women out there restoring cars and “tricking” them out, but I wouldn’t want to exclude them in this day and age.

Anyway, the trend seems to be more people restoring and tricking out the Chevrolet Caprice Classics from the late 1980’s. And in my opinion, those were one of the ugliest vehicles that ever displayed the Chevrolet bowtie.

They had four doors. They were big and round… And to quote Johnny from the film AIRPLANE!… They looked “kinda like a big Tylenol”. I thought they were hideous.

During the late 80’s, they were the cruiser of choice for the Guilford County Sheriff’s Department. I know this because my father was a patrolman and drove one of those beige uglies during his days protecting the citizens of Guilford County.

From what I understand, none of the officers had an appreciation for the vehicle’s aesthetics. They referred to it as “the pregnant turtle” or “the Easter egg”. I never could understand the “pregnant turtle” thing since they’re egg layers, but it was the only criticism I ever heard about the car.

The Caprice Classic must have been a good workhorse when it came to policing because I never heard a bad word about the performance. It was just big, odd, and ugly looking.

I’ve noticed that those cars are back out and about on our streets and highways. I’ve seen a couple of them restored in flashy neon colors with big rims that lift those jokers off the ground at a pretty good height.

But here’s the trend that I don’t understand… The owners are painting them up with themes.

The first one I saw was orange and brown on High Point Road in Greensboro. But it didn’t stop there… There were Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup logos all over the thing. There was a logo on the hood, one on the trunk lid, and one on each side of the car. It wasn’t like a NASCAR thing where the logos were on the rear quarter panels. The logos were plastered right over the doors. I thought to myself, “This guy must really love Reese’s.”

I saw my second one in Winston-Salem at a stoplight at University Parkway and Hanes Mill Road. The owner had that joker tricked out in a Superman motif. It was Superman blue with red and yellow accents. A Superman shield was on the hood with the classic Superman logo spread out across the side over the doors. Why couldn’t the owner pick a better comic superhero like Batman, Spider-Man, or Plastic Man?

The third vehicle I saw was beautiful, despite my problems with the Caprice Classic’s body aesthetics. It was burgundy with a yellow and white racing stripe. When I got along side of it on Highway 52 North in Winston-Salem, I couldn’t help but notice the big ol’ Washington Redskins logs spread over the side of the car. As a ‘Skins fan, this pleased me greatly. I gave the lady driver a big “thumbs up” as I passed her by. She looked a little confused, but I didn’t care. It was cool, daddy!

And just this past Thursday, I saw another one on Business 40 West between Winston-Salem and Kernersville. It was red, black, and white featuring the Pizza Hut logo spread out over the side of the car.

It made me scratch my lead just a little. Are these people being paid for these rolling, tricked out advertisements? Do the owners love Reese’s, Superman, the Redskins, and Pizza Hut so much they trick out their rides to honor their favorites? What’s the deal?

I love me some Long John Silver’s, but I cannot imagine painting Roxy (my 2001 Ford Ranger) up to represent my affection for deep fried seafood… Or paint her up to show off my love for the rock band KISS… Or trick her out with my all-time favorite television show, Green Acres.

To be honest, I’m not the kind of guy that would waste money on tricking out something that can easily be totaled on our roadways. I keep Roxy the same way when she rolled off the lot except with a little more dirt and grime.

But if someone were to pay me for showing off their logos on a tricked out vehicle, I don’t think I’d pass it up. Unless it’s a product that I just can’t get behind… Like Almond Joy, Tampax, the Dallas Cowboys, any professional soccer or basketball teams, Kyle Busch, pickles, Oprah Winfrey, Mounds, Republicans, Kurt Busch, Democrats, Girls Gone Wild, Dale Earnhardt Junior, the Atlanta Braves, Family Guy, or proctologists.

Have you seen these cars or others like them?

Leave a comment if you have and include where you saw it. I’m trying to figure out if it’s some kind of weird Caprice Classic cult.

Vinnie Vincent Invasion

2010-03-31T13:27:00.006-04:00

I just got word last night about the cancellation of Fox’s 24. I wasn’t completely surprised and to be quite honest, I’m glad to see it go. 24 had a good run and managed to milk the fears of terrorism from Americans as well as providing some good ol’ entertainment.

The show constantly had subplots with little or nothing to do with the main plot. Those subplots were more or less used to thrust little thorns into Jack Bauer’s, the main character, side. If it’s not Bauer’s daughter Kim getting into some kind of trouble, it was someone at CTU leading a dangerous double life that lead to betraying the American people. Those little subplots became predictable and downright unnecessary.

I mean seriously, what was wrong with the main plot as a source of storytelling?

But conflict between characters has always been more or less a blueprint to keep a show popular. After all, look at soap operas. Those characters are always in conflict with one another. And have you ever noticed a television in any soap character’s home?

Perhaps that’s why they have too much time on their hands allowing them to screw around with the other characters, but I digress.

24 has given us all kinds of good entertainment. Especially to those of us that enjoy things blowing up or weapon play. Who could ever forget poor, stupid Kim Bauer running from trouble with her more than ample bosom flopping back and forth?

We had two full seasons of that boob swaying action!

And what about the lame ankle break character Tony Almaidea suffered on his way to an interrogation room?

Since the actor broke his leg, they had to write that into the show. But a trip and fall in a level hallway?

Hilarious!

What about my theory of the right wing conservatives at Fox influencing the American public how to vote in Presidential elections?

They showed us a strong black President with some light right-wing attitudes and the public eventually followed by electing Obama. They presented an older sneaky, spineless President and the public voted against McCain.

The current 24 President is a woman and she’s my favorite. Not because she’s hot or anything like that… It’s because they are painting her up to be a little dumber than the males that preceded her. She’s constantly asking questions and therefore it gives the perception that women aren't as smart as men in the political arena.

It’s practically become a drinking game for me. Whenever Madame President asks a question, take a shot. It won’t be long before you’ll pass out and then wake up during a late night infomercial.

Just last night, Madame President asked 13 questions all within 5 minutes of screen time. Simply amazing!

Because of their influence, there’s very little chance that we’ll elect Palin or any other woman into the White House for the next three elections. But, we shall see.

We also learned some good things by watching 24… Like how to tear out someone’s stomach lining with a towel and a little water.

After asking a question without receiving and answer, yell the same query as vein-poppingly loud as you can to gain the knowledge you seek. That always works for Bauer.

The character of Kim Bauer always got on my nerves despite her two biggest assets on the show. But the character that I disliked the most was Chloe O’Brien.

She may have gotten Jack out of a lot of trouble. She may have stood by him through thick and thin, but I just couldn’t stand her bitching and complaining. I was hoping that the new leader of CTU, the guy who played “Bubba” in Forest Gump, would knock her damn head off. Chloe is always sullen and grumpy, much like a teenage girl. She just got on my nerves even without all the Goth-rock.

And what about that lame filler movie where Jack Bauer was in Africa hanging out with boys?

All in all, 24 was a good ride that took me two seasons before I got on board. It will be missed.

Feel free to give us your thoughts on 24 by using the comments.

Tina Turner 'What's Love Got To Do With It'

2010-03-30T10:55:00.003-04:00

I must admit something… I watch a lot of television. I know that for a lot of you, it’s a complete shock. I wouldn’t say that it’s an addiction. It’s just because I like television as a medium. And as much as I love it, I never felt compelled to work in that industry. I guess that my love for music outweighed my love for the boob tube. Unless, of course, someone’s actually showing boobs on my TV.

As much as I try to watch my favorite programs as they air, I find myself relying more and more upon the DVR or watching them online. I’ve found that I prefer to watch my programs those ways because I can zip through the commercials. And when watching online, I’m only subjected to one 15 or 30 second commercial for every break.

I’ve found that a little time can be saved by watching that way. I end up saving about 15 minutes on an hour program and about 8 with the half-hour programs.

But every now and again, I’ll watch television as it airs… Like last night with Chuck and 24. I usually find something to do while the commercials play… Like lessening my bladder, respond to a text message, or throwing acorns at the neighbor’s dog.

I sometimes have nothing to do while the commercials roll and fuel my fears about lagging behind the Joneses, so I watch. Like everyone else that treads through TV land, I like the creative and funny commercials. But there’s one that I just don’t understand… It’s the latest Friskies cat food campaign.

It’s like a Prince video during the psychedelic period of the ‘Around The World In A Day’ album… And I have a few problems with it.

Who exactly are they advertising to? The cats or the cat owners?

I haven’t quite figured that one out yet. But I can easily see how cats could live in a psychedelic world like the one shown in the commercial. They’re always staring off into the distance or looking at something with that steely gaze perhaps seeing something that we just can’t comprehend. Cats can seem a little freaky, ya know?

Felines do enjoy a little catnip from time to time. And I’ve always heard that catnip is like marijuana for cats. They like to sleep a lot and stare outside at things, so it’s not beyond the realm of possibilities that cats are probably in a constant state of euphoria. Bottom line… Cats like to trip.

So maybe that’s why cats are always killing everything they can possibly get their hands on. They’re tripping like Woodstock hippies on the brown acid and see every other animal or insect as something out to hurt them. They’re just on a bad trip, man.

But the cat in the commercial doesn’t seem to be on a bad trip when turkeys surround it or when the chickens roll out the red carpet for din-din. I would say the cat is on a good trip which is something the advertisers are trying to get across with their message.

Take a look for yourself right here and draw your own conclusions.

Stephen Stills 'Just Roll Tape'

2010-03-27T09:49:00.006-04:00

Here’s something that I wrote recently about some observations made last year… Try to enjoy.

--I rarely go to a particular retail outlet, but I had no choice back on October 6th. I had to pick up the new release from KISS, ‘Sonic Boom’. It was sold exclusively at that particular retail establishment. In my mind, getting the prize would involve a long journey through aisles filled with people that would most likely have urinals in their living rooms or the types you find at dog fights on the weekends. But it was worth it to get ‘Sonic Boom’ complete with bonus CD and DVD for twelve bucks. New and surprisingly good KISS tunes were worth being run down by someone on a motorized cart with portable breathing equipment in tow.

Since I had to visit the giant hall of human oddities complete with a Subway, I took a list with me to pick up a few things that I needed. I couldn’t see any reason to make another trip to procure other life necessities. After all, people that love that establishment are always praising the joint as the place that has everything. Not even the gum-chewing college girl with ample and visible cleavage at the drug store down the street could sway two trips out of me.

I may be slightly on the pervy side, but at least I’m rational and reasonable.

I needed to pick up another large plastic bottle of my favorite body wash… Yes, I have a pouf and I finally know how to spell it… Dial’s Full Force. It sounds manly enough to offset any pouf usage.

I like the smell of the stuff and so do the lovely ladies that I’m fortunate enough to receive hugs from every time I see them. So I started my search on the retailers Wall of China aisle of soaps and lotions. I found stuff made by Dial, but the huge retailer didn’t have the specific scent that I like.

I stood there reading and rereading all the bottles to make sure my eyes were working properly. I started moving bottles and tubes around to see if my scent was being obscured by products misplaced by someone wearing a cap with a “3” accentuated with angel wings over the bill. Alas, I came up empty.

They had a Dial scent with pheromones, but I didn’t want that. I was thinking to myself, Don’t ants use pheromones to communicate and attract?

Well, I didn’t want to attract ants or give them the wrong idea, so I went with the only other logical choice from Dial… A bottle of body wash made for hair and body.

For some reason, it seems strange to me that guys would want the same cleaning fluid they put on their privates used on their heads. After all, we are talking about two different hair types. I wouldn’t a woman that I’m getting intimate with to find my crotch smelling like Pert or VO5. Nor would I want her to find out that my hair smells like Zest. What kind of messages would that send?

I thought about visiting Ms. Boobage at the pharmacy for my usual Dial Full Force, but I just grabbed the hair and body formula and tossed it into the shopping basket with the new KISS CD, five quarts of oil, and an oil filter.

Since purchasing the body and hair formula, I have yet to use it on the hair follicles coming out of my scalp. I’m still using my Garnier fortifying shampoo. Part of me wants to experiment with it, but I just can’t seem to pull the trigger. It just seems wrong and a little lazy.

Perhaps that’s why they make that formula for men… I’ve never seen that type of product for women. So what is that saying about us guys?

--As of this posting… I have yet to use it on my hair. To be honest, I have forgotten that my body wash doubles as shampoo. But now that I won’t be seeing people on a regular basis because of reoccurring job losses, I may just give it a shot and report back here. You know, for scientific reasons.

Britney Spears 'In The Zone'

2010-03-26T11:45:00.003-04:00

Howdy folks!

I know that it’s been a long time since I updated this hear site of mine and if you haven’t noticed, there are a few changes.

I’ve changed the title for one thing. Since I’m no longer an overnight jock these days (seriously unemployed at the moment), I’ve changed the name from Too Dangerous For Daylight to Wheeler’s Dog.

I’ve also grabbed a domain name for this here little mental masturbation and decided to turn it into a full blown website. So chances are good that you were redirected to wheelersdog.com without any problems.

I can’t really say that it wasn’t without problems on my end. Getting the domain name was easy, but trying to understand the computer geek jargon caused me a couple of sleepless nights. I was pulling out my hair and cussing like an Irish priest trying to figure that crap out. Oh sure, my site host and blogger made it all look so simple. But to me it was like trying to figure out how to perform triple by-pass surgery with a road map of Guam.

It was a very stressful week for me. I lost my part-time job at Majic 94.1 and I couldn’t grasp all that computer stuff. I had to watch lots of pornography and eat copious amounts of Food Lion’s Cheerwine sherbet just to take the edge off.

Eventually, I broke down and asked for the assistance of people that know what their doing. Jonathan Everett was cool enough to rifle the instructions and within an hour wheelersdog.com was up and running with perfect redirects.

The man is simply a miracle worker and if he bitches about helping with my every computer issue, he must be saving it all for his wife. So Jonny boy… Thank you so much! And when I go full-blown, I’ll be ringing your phone.

You’re probably wondering why I went with a domain instead of using the tried and true djeugene.blogspot.com… Or maybe you’re not. Either way, I wanted something easy to remember and easy to find. And it’ll look good on bumper stickers, t-shirts, and eventually a full wrap on my vehicle.

Perhaps you’re wondering where I got the name Wheeler’s Dog.

It’s a reference to my all-time favorite television show, Green Acres. I’ve gone to the trouble of finding it on YouTube so you won’t waste your time Googling the hell out of it. Be sure to watch it all for the full effect and a great scene with Mr. Haney.

There’s a Wheeler’s Dog logo that Rick Talbert (RIP brother) and I designed with my foray into mix tape trading back in the 1990’s. Eventually it will replace the picture of the Ford Galaxy 500 at the top now.

If you’re curious to see the other photographs that I snapped of that Galaxy, look ‘em up on my facebook page. They’re titled “Junkers”.

I haven’t updated since last September. I just didn’t have the urge to write anything with an hour drive to work and an hour drive back. Sure it’s an excuse, but it’s a good one. Now that I seemingly have plenty of time, I will update more frequently.

Thanks for checking in and if you’re a first time visitor, by all means, start reading from the beginning. Perhaps you’ll find something entertaining.

EZO 'EZO'

2009-09-04T11:23:00.003-04:00

Jamie and I were invited over to Walter and Tina’s house this past Saturday evening. It was a dinner invitation with drinking and not so deep conversation to follow. And the weather was perfect for it.

We were instructed to bring a dinner item along with a desert to go along with turkey. That’s right. Tina was roasting a big ass turkey in the oven. Her first and that joker was moist and delicious.

We were also instructed to bring whatever we wanted to drink. We picked up Melissa and stopped at the grocery store along the way for booze. After a quick phone call, we could add cranberry sauce to our list.

I had committed myself as designated driver that evening. So I could have one drink early in the evening and ride it out to sobriety. It’s a system that has always worked for me. I get a quick buzz before eating and I sober up once dinner starts hitting the bloodstream.

In my mind, I went through all the possible alcoholic beverage choices that are offered by the Food Lion in Pilot Mountain. I narrowed it down to a few in the size that I wanted.

For some reason, I wanted a malt liquor in the 40 ounce size. A twenty-two ounce pansy beer just wasn’t going to cover the check and I wouldn’t feel satisfied with a couple of 12 ounce singles. I needed at least 32 ounces of something with a stiffer punch.

“What do you want?” Jamie asked me before slipping out of the car.

“Can you get me…” I hesitated for a moment. “Can you get me a forty ounce King Kobra?”

“I’m not getting you a malt liquor!” she snapped back at me.

“How about a Miller High Life forty?” I asked a little louder.

We were arguing about it as she was leaving the car. After she shut the door and proceeded to walk into the store, Jamie was still saying things that I couldn’t hear. I got the distinct feeling that she remained adamantly against my choice of beverage.

Jamie had her window rolled down and I yelled toward her, “I NEED A FORTY, WOMAN!”

It was also at this time when I realized that there was a car to our right with a parking space between us. There were people inside. A black woman and her two daughters were sitting in a blue Jeep Cherokee and laughing about what I yelled out at Jamie.

And people wonder why I don’t embarrass easily.

Jamie and Melissa went to the Food Lion register with a jar of cranberry sauce, a handful of lemons, a 12 pack of Bud Light Lime, and a 40 ounce King Kobra.

Jamie would’ve liked to have known what the cashier thought about two white chicks and their shopping items. Especially since the cashier had a smirk on his 16 year old face during check out. I can’t say that I really blame him, because you just don’t see shoppers with tastes like that every day.

And thanks to Walter and Tina for the invite and delicious turkey. A Thanksgiving anytime of year is a pretty cool idea.

Here's a picture that Melissa took of Tina with me in the background.

The Doobie Brothers 'Takin' It To The Streets'

2009-08-27T11:18:00.004-04:00

It’s that time of year again. Go Triad magazine is once again letting folks decide who and what are the cream of the Triad crop. And they’ve brought back a category that had been taken out the last couple of years…

They brought back the “Best Blog” category, but they’re calling it the “Best Blogger”.

I won “Best Blog” the last year they had it on the ballot. It always filled me with pride knowing that I went out on top. I still have my two winner certificates from Go Triad that I have yet to frame. Since I don’t have an office, I just stuck them in a drawer.

Don’t get me wrong… I’m very proud of the award. I just don't have a prominent place to hang it where it can be seen by everyone.

I never campaigned for the award. Oh sure, I threw my hat into the ring by voting on my own blog, but I never asked anyone else to vote. I didn’t use the airwaves to promote myself over the radio, because it sure would look ridiculous to campaign for it and never making the cut.

I honestly didn’t expect much. I didn’t even expect an honorable mention. I was just trying to keep my writing as sharp as possible by exercising that skill.

I’m not trying to change the World or even my small little portion of it. I don’t write about “things that matter” and I tend to steer clear of political ramblings. I’ll leave that kind of “wheel grinding” to the people that truly care about it.

Me?

I just want to write. I do it for the aforementioned sharpness and for my own amusement. I see things just a little bit differently than the average person. And I sometimes use my blog to yell and scream at things. It’s a pressure release valve that keeps my head from exploding all over the living room or windshield of my truck.

I haven’t been keeping my blog up to date like I should. I lost my full-time job back in September and there’s been really nothing to write about. I have a part-time job, but I don’t get to mix it up with the outside World like I used to. It’s been difficult to find the motivation to write about experiences that I’m not having like I used to.

My television viewing has increased since losing that full-time job, but who wants to hear about Burn Notice and Rescue Me? Who wants to know that I’ve gotten so far behind on The Closer that I don’t care if I ever get caught up?

Yeah. I’m not feeling the love for The Closer this year. They killed off Brenda’s cat and replaced it with a talking teenage character thrown in to give her marriage a little conflict. Plus, I’m just not digging her methods. They seem devious and most of her cases would be thrown out of Court because of her lack of adherence to Constitutional Rights.

So you see exactly what I’m talking about, right?

Bottom line… If you’re going to vote on Go Triad’s “Best Of The Triad” poll, throw one my way. I’d appreciate it. Oh! You may even win one of the prizes!

I’m providing THIS LINK to take you to Go Triad’s website.

--Look for an update over the weekend about my Popped Peeps movement that took place nationwide (well that may be exaggerated) yesterday. There will be popped collar pictures of handsomely rugged men and one hot lady with a fashion kinky streak. The first Popped Collar Day was a moderate success.

Pretty Things 'Savage Eye'

2009-08-23T14:31:00.004-04:00

Have you ever tried experimenting with bringing a style back?

I tried it the other day with very little success. People gave me the kind of looks reserved for men that relieve themselves on cages filled with kittens.

I saw Denis Leary rocking the look on an episode of Rescue Me and wondered to myself… “That’s a style that should come back. It’s totally working for Leary.”

Without planning anything, I slipped a golf shirt over my magnificent body the next day before going to work. And as fate would have it, the collar was standing upright. Children of the 80’s refer it as the “popped” collar.

During the 1980’s, the popped collar was everywhere. It was like skin at a nudist camp. And odd as it may seem, I never wore the popped collar back then.

So anyways, I left my collar popped that day and decided to follow the path that Mr. Leary was blazing.

As I waited at the stoplight at Horse Pen Creek Road and New Garden to get onto Bryan Boulevard, I noticed a woman smiling at me as she drove across my path through the intersection. Her eyes followed me until she passed by me. So I thought to myself… “She must be digging the popped collar.”

After all, it looked good on Leary and I was sure it looked good on me.

I got to work and no one paid any attention to my popped collar. So I decided to strut around the office like I just got off the set of Miami Vice to show off my daredevil style sensibilities.

No one wanted to take the bait, so I asked the ladies what they thought about my popped collar. And I’ll give you the abridged version… They didn’t care about my popped collar and they were happy that the style had died like Dustin Diamond’s career.

Will “Sports Boy” Tate (WLXN) walked into the office with his golf shirt and I said, “Hey man, pop that collar!”

“I will not,” Will replied.

“Come on, man,” I pleaded. “Don’t you want to bring back the popped collar?”

Will looked at me with his steely eyes and said, “I think not.”

As I understand things… Kids these days are all about vampires. They love that Twilight crap. So why aren’t they popping those collars?

Hell. If a popped collar was good enough for Dracula, the ultimate vampire, then it should be good for all those emo kids who love melodramatic bloodsuckers.

I know a high school kid that’s trying to bring back suspenders. Why?

I’m not sure.

He’s been wearing those goofy little hats, skinny jeans, and now he’s going all “Mork from Ork”.

So I just left a message on his mother’s answering machine trying to appeal to his trailblazing style resuscitation. Because I’m sure that if a high school kid gets it going, it will take off like a fire in Athens.

And this Wednesday, August 26th lets all rock the popped collar. Take a picture and post it on your Facebook or MySpace.

Lets rock it, beeotches!

Warren Zevon 'Sentimental Hygiene'

2009-08-14T12:17:00.003-04:00

Have you ever seen Cheap Trick in concert?

If you haven’t, please be advised that you will need hearing protection. Take some ear plugs. If you didn’t have time to stop at Rite-Aid to purchase some, find some bathroom tissue before the lawn crowd deplete the supply for their own frivolous activities. Make sure to take any means necessary to find something to protect one of your five senses.

Cheap Trick are generally loud in concert.

I’ve heard them being to compared to other loud and sudden noises… One phrase I’m particularly fond of is Jeff Kay’s “louder than Cheap Trick”.

But this wasn’t the case last Friday night. I guess being low band on the totem pole meant that Rick Nielson wouldn’t be able to split the atom with a five neck guitar and a checkered amplifier.

I could hear more of the mix from the speakers directly in front of me than from the band just a few feet further away. I’ve been that close to Cheap Trick a few times and I wasn’t able hear my own thoughts even with ear plugs.

I was only interested in seeing Cheap Trick. I couldn’t care less about Poison and I have seen Def Leppard many times. No offense to age affected vocals of Joe Elliott, but I saw them when he could scream instead of sing.

I wanted to hear some of the new Cheap Trick songs performed live. I wanted to hear the classics. I wanted to hear which gem would be dusted off and thrown into set.

I wasn’t disappointed when I heard “Way Of The World” from the ‘Dream Police’ album. I sang along like it was 1979, baby.

Jamie also found out that she could lose another one of her 5 senses whenever Rick Nielsen wrist flicks a guitar pick into the audience. She was struck on the cheek with one when she was looking away from him. I told her that you could lose an ear and an eye at a Cheap Trick concert.

She was a little bummed when she couldn’t find the guitar pick that blindsided her. I reassured her that she would get a souvenir when Nielsen would toss handfuls of guitar picks into the audience.

We were fortunate to acquire four guitar picks and I gave one of them to the woman behind me that wasn’t so lucky.

Jamie also made eye contact with Robin Zander. That seemed to have made her day.

This was the first time Jamie had been that close for a large concert with bands that have sold millions of albums. We ventured back to the beer gardens and found people there that were like-minded. Jamie and I spoke with a few guys that loved Cheap Trick and Def Leppard, but they hated Poison. I said that it was like a big sandwich with “suck” right in the middle.

In hindsight, I wish I had added a slice of melted cheese on that “suck” patty.

Jamie and I ventured back to our second row seats so she could get the experience of flash pots firing off directly in front of her with Poison’s show. Our seats were so close that we could feel the heat from the flames flaring up from behind the row of their amplifiers.

Three songs into Poison’s set and Jamie’s good sense of taste and will to survive kicked in. She said that she had had enough. We found the car and made our way to Durham for a visit with Allyson.

For some reason, security weren’t allowing anyone with a cell phone to snap a picture. That’s why I only have the one picture from our perspective. Although I’m sure Clay Howard got some beautiful shots during Cheap Trick’s performance.

Stay tuned. More on that within a few days.

Brian Wilson 'Smile'

2009-08-12T11:11:00.004-04:00

I don’t know what happened to me last week. I haven’t had any problems with my ears. Those jokers seemed to be just fine. There was the normal amount of earwax production. I heard the usual amount of rhetoric, sizzling gossip, and recipes for pizza éclairs. And yet I didn’t hear two people telling me that my seats to last Friday night’s concert with Cheap Trick, Poison, and Def Leppard were located on the second row.

I got the tickets from a connected man “in the business” a few days before the concert.

I don’t really know what “in the business” means, but I hear people using it quite a bit. It sounds like lots of business suits are involved and I don’t want any part of that.

Anyway… The guy gave me the tickets and my eyes noticed that they weren’t on the lawn where anything goes.

The lawn seat is a one way ticket to four hours of heat and hell-raising. A place where men with inked road signs on their backs dance topless with the balance that only 90 proof can provide. It’s a place where a woman can smoke and drink 24 ounce cans of beer while wearing a novelty t-shirt proudly proclaiming that she has one in the oven. The lawn seat area is a place that not even Hank Williams Jr. wants to spend two minutes.

The tickets I had received had silver “VIP” stamped on it. My mind told me that the seats were in a good location. I immediately translated “VIP” into “beer wench”.

For me, there aren’t too many things more important than having someone fetch beers. Why should I be deprived of watching Poison perform “Talk Dirty To Me” while standing in a beer line?

Side note… All “beer wenches” should be women and gay men. No studly hunks. No cute looking snicker inducing dude. No young men named Stacy.

Women sell beer and men like beer. My girlfriend likes beer too, but isn’t going to want to see our server walk away as much as I will. There’s more money to be made with women servers.

Gay men don’t cause any “dude tude” flare-ups. Gay men that drink beer will also like to watch their server walk away regardless of that person’s sex…

To get back on thought… I looked at a seating chart to find the exact location of the seats. Since my mind had booked a flight on the beer wench express, I located where I thought our seats were. I thought it must have been in a box location where overpriced beer would be brought to me.

I told Jamie where I thought we were going to be seated for the concert.

She was the second person to tell me that our seats were located on second row. The “in the business” guy told me when I first got them.

But I don’t recall either one trying to explain that I was going to be up close and personal with Robin Zander and Rick Nielsen. I didn’t realize that I would actually run into my friend and “Checkered Nation” brother, Clay Howard and his wife Nicole.

My ears didn’t pickup on this fact. I was told twice and seemingly never heard a word. I must have had an experience with hysterical hearing loss. The excitement about the possibility of having a beer wench caused my hearing loss.

It also caused me to totally not be able to read their seating chart. I don’t understand how they have their seats arranged. It confuses me.

So this picture will give you an idea about how close to Cheap Trick Jamie and I were.

I will share the rest about our Cheap Trick adventures with an update tomorrow or Thursday.

Rolling Stones 'Tattoo You'

2009-08-02T14:29:00.003-04:00

I tend to steer clear of political discussions. It’s because most of the time I’m simply not well informed.

What?!

A blogger that isn’t well informed about politics?!

I just don’t care enough to get informed and people are WAY too passionate about how they feel politically. You see, I’m a Libertarian that disagrees with most of the Democrats and I tend to find common ground with the Republicans. After all, I’m all about smaller Government, the Second Amendment, and drug legalization.

Yeah, I’m one of those people that most of the political passionate refer to as a “whacko”.

My parents were discussing the White House beer garden with our country’s head honcho, the second in command, Gates, and the cop who arrested him. My mother had the biggest reaction and I found myself laughing inside as she pontificated on the border of red-faced anger.

“What kind of President would publicly announce that he’s having people over for a beer to work things out?” she asked. “I’m sure some have had people over for drinks, but no one’s publicly thrown it out there. I think it’s wrong!”

I should add that she has very few warm and fuzzy feelings for our number one elected official.

My mother is a staunch Baptist woman which translates to “any alcohol is wrong”. She, like most Baptists, believes that their ideals are valid and everyone on the planet should adhere to them. She doesn’t understand or doesn’t want to believe that everyone is different. The idea that folks may be able to work out problems with a few adult beverages is like running a day care in a meth lab. To her, it’s just plain bad and no good can come from it. It looks disgraceful to the Nation that their President would openly invite combatants over for a barley pop to find common ground and hash things out.

Before walking around the neighborhood Friday morning with my neighbor Julie… The discussion came up with her husband Rick.

I didn’t see any of the footage nor did I hear about how it went on the news, so Rick filled me in. Obama and Biden didn’t touch their brews. Gates may have had a sip, but the working class cop drank like he was on spring break expecting a Girls Gone Wild filming session to fire up.

Why not?

You’re drinking with one of the most powerful people in the World and you know the Secret Service is going to get you home safely after a few too many stately brews. There’s no better agency to have for a designated driver.

“What’s next? A Budweiser truck parked out on the White House lawn?!” she added.

Hell, if a beer company wants to pony up a hefty amount of cash to add to the Nation’s coffers by taking advantage of such a situation… I’d let ‘em. That’s the Libertarian in me talking. It could repair a few bridges or build a few schools.

I don’t know what came of the White House beer garden meeting and quite frankly, I don’t really care. I believe the police officer did the right thing. Regardless of race, I don’t know if someone isn’t going to pull a gun on me when they go to retrieve something. That would be careless and a careless cop often ends up a dead cop.

I also understand a bit of Gates position. He knew that he was only trying to clear things up, but what he didn’t understand is that the cop deals with the same situation with different people of all colors. He has to treat everyone as a potential hostile until the dust clears.

The quick and simple point of the matter is that the cop wanted to keep breathing and return to his family alive. I’ve even had my own father pointing a gun in the bathroom I was in because he didn’t have all the information at the time. I followed his directions, answered his questions, and he put that weapon back in his holster. And the rest of the cops surrounding the neighborhood stood down.

Hey… It happens and I got a great story about the time someone didn’t get the joke with the outgoing message on the answering machine.

So let’s go get a beer!

Tom Petty 'Full Moon Fever'

2009-07-25T11:02:00.004-04:00

The sound mix is a little off from the video. "A little off" translates to a time difference where everyone doesn't have to be Stephen Hawkings to figure out. Keep a watchful eye out for The President and a man that chose to dress like a revised Ronald McDonald with Devo-like sidekicks (band). It'll only take five minutes and you'll laugh too.

Ladies and gentlemen... Submitted for your approval and/or disapproval... The polictical stylings of the hardest rocking bushy-haired singer/songwriter this side of Ted Nugent... SAMMY HAGAR!!!

Little Caesar 'Influence'

2009-07-23T12:49:00.005-04:00

Believe it or not, I was once a budding artist. I liked to draw comic book characters and I even made up my own costumed heroes. My parents hooked me up with art lessons where I got to explore all kinds of different styles and mediums. I got to work on still life drawing with pencil and charcoal. That progressed to chalk, water colors, and acrylic painting.

Art class was always one of my favorite subjects in school. It was a place where I could unwind, especially if my class fell in the middle or near the end of the day.

Although I never won a Scholastic Art & Writing Gold Key Award, I did get an honorable mention. Art was an avenue that everyone, including myself, thought I would just zip right down to the city limits of success.

That didn’t happen because of several reasons… You could draw a pretty picture, give it to a girl, and you wouldn’t get the girl. Teaching myself guitar and writing music gave me a different creative outlet that I liked even more… And the girls responded to that a little better. Plus, you didn’t have to be drop dead gorgeous to win a night’s affection with a girl. If you need proof of that, here ya go!

I stopped drawing practically overnight and rarely doodled like I incessantly did before. I just didn’t enjoy it anymore and yet I still have no perfectly good explanation as to why it brought me no more pleasure.

I do find it fun and relaxing to paint my Battletech Mechs, but it’s rare that I ever purchase or play with them anymore.

Just recently, Jamie’s youngest was going to some sort of Scout camping trip. The group had a pirate theme and had to design their own t-shirt. And for some reason, I took up the challenge by opening my big mouth. Words like “I can draw a skull on there for him” and “I’d be happy to draw it on there” came rolling out of my mouth like drunks falling out onto Bourbon Street.

I stretched the plain white shirt out on an ironing board, armed myself with two Sharpies, and went to town freestyle with no picture. I drew a skull and bones as I had visualized them with permanent ink and was simply surprised of the result.

I feared that it would look absolutely horrible or not to my liking since I haven’t picked up any writing instrument to draw with in over 15 years.

I had a few problems with the crossbones, but overall it’s not bad for someone knocking off some rust.

I’ll share my latest creative passion with you later this weekend… But if you’ve seen my photo posts on Facebook, then you already know what I’m talking about. And if you’re not one of my Facebook friends… Then hit me up, bitches!

Toodles folks!

Kix 'Cool Kids'

2009-07-21T21:52:00.002-04:00

Once again, I’ve reached one of those moments where I’m struggling to find something to write. Inspiration refuses to work its way through the smoky haze that sometimes fills my cranium. It can be a dangerous place in there… Lots of stuff lying around and it’s dark too. One misstep and someone will need a little therapy or an icepack for the groin. So here goes anyway…

I watched the first little bit of The Tonight Show with Conan O’Brien last Friday night and it seems that his staff are trying to kill him.

They had a stuntman on there giving him one or two minute tutorials on how to perform a stunt and then proceeded to rough up on the red-headed giant. It was funny and as it turns out, Conan has more skills than Napoleon Dynamite.

The whole bit took me back to a summer long ago… When the Lively/Sims cousin summer exchange program was up and running. Paula would come down to North Carolina and I went up to the Motherland for the summer.

It was the same summer when Dan Lively (my cousin) and I discovered how to make our own fake blood using corn syrup and food coloring. We made gallons of the stuff! It was cheap to make and had many practical applications.

The entire family came together that summer for a large cookout featuring hamburgers, hot dogs, and crazy children. I’m not talking about the usual crazy children that commit the uninspired acts that cause broken bones, stitches, or even crying. I’m talking about the kind of crazy where one minute there’s a large watermelon glistening with water drops upon it and in the next, there’s a large cutting knife firmly embedded into it with fake blood dripping down the sides designed to create any kind of reaction that the one discovering such a scene would like to share with the group.

We also liked to paint our faces with faux blood gashes and filled our mouths with the stuff so that when we “took” a punch to the jaw, we would spray out what seemed to be blood. We liked to plan fights with fake blood and practiced them in the yard. Dan and I finally got to show off our stunt talents in front of the house that the family built my Grandmother. It was located on busy Highway 3 leading into Union, WV.

Dan and I would venture up to Randall’s Barn (Randall was their neighbor that I never ever remember meeting) where we could turn up the volume on our stuntman training and learn how to fall from heights.

There was always a big pile of hay on the floor of the barn with a loft above it. We would just climb our way up to the loft by using the built in ladder. Dan and I took turns climbing up to the loft, then acting as if we were being shot by the other below before falling into the pile of hay.

That led to falling over the side of Uncle Malcolm’s GMC truck and landing as flat on our backs as we possibly could. We saw that in the movies along with watching professional wrestlers work their craft every week on television. Of course, we did this with the truck in park. We got a few scrapes and bruises, but otherwise we were pretty much undamaged.

That led to Dan rolling over the hoods of slow moving cars and falling to the ground safely on the other side. He only did this with family members or good family friends in the Lively’s driveway or the church parking lot. The concerned driver always slammed their cars into park and got out to find Dan upright, beating the dust out of his clothes.

I was never gutsy enough to try such a stunt because I was younger, smaller, and valued my health more. I didn’t want to gamble a broken or crushed limb with a stunt where the most important person involved had no clue... And they were the one driving the car.

Are you digging the new Tonight Show with Conan O’Brien?

It’s miles above that tired lame krunk that Leno has been feeding the viewers.

Sammy Hagar 'VOA'

2009-07-15T11:02:00.003-04:00

I must remind readers old and new that the title of my blog represents my listening pleasure of the day. If you have any questions about my odd procedures, please leave them in the comments so that I may address them and clear up any concerns about my mental health. Thank you.

-I got myself a laptop computer near the end of June. It’s my first one and I’m totally digging it. I don’t know why I didn’t get one sooner. The only problem I had was transferring all of my Zune MP3 krunk to the new laptop. I guess having over 7,200 songs on that joker just created some kind overload during the transfer. So I purged my Zune of all content and I have started over.

I was getting close to rotating the stock on it by taking off the oldest titles when I load it up with new ones. Sure, I can leave the titles on the on the computer and just swap stuff around on the handheld device… But I just didn’t want to eat up too much virtual memory on the computer by saving everything I rip.

That’s reducing a bit of my carbon footprint, right?

Plus, I’m a little too OCD when it comes to having my music in order. So at this very moment, I only have 270 songs on my Zune that I’ve named Gretchen II. I rip my next week’s listening habits into the system on Thursday or Friday which adds about 70 songs per week on average. I’m hearing the same stuff over and over. I thought I’d hate it, but I’m learning about stuff that I have overlooked before. It’s a good thing!

The biggest reason for me to get a laptop, believe it or not, was because of my Ion USB turntable that my parents gave me for Christmas over a year ago. You hook the turntable up to your computer and you can transfer your LP’s into MP3 files.

If I used a desktop computer, I’d have to break out the turntable and hook it all up. Then when I’d be done, I’d have to break it all down and put it up. That process just didn’t appeal to me since I can be lazier than a stoner on Judgment Day.

A laptop computer would work beautifully!

The turntable stays put where it’s all hooked up and when I want to turn grooved vinyl into bits an bites to play through my Zune, I just stick that USB cable right into my laptop. It’s much simpler that way.

I recently spent a recent Saturday afternoon tinkering around with my Ion USB turntable. Since I’m apparently over the border and into OCD territory, I started with my usual alphabetical order tactic and used the last two digits of the catalog number to move onto the next LP. So if an album ends with “37”, I count off that number to get to my next selection. For some reason, I like the randomness of doing that because there’s no telling what will be chosen. And if my personal feelings get in the way, there’s a good chance that I’ll never get to be more acquainted with something that seemingly just sits there slowly decomposing. In a sense, it helps me realize why things are taking up space in my vast collection. I can be a little forgetful.

An album by The Accelerators (late 80’s/early 90’s band from Raleigh, NC that was truly awesome) started it all followed by the B-52’s (“Love Shack” 12-inch), Beat Farmer’s (‘Powderfinger’ 12-inch), Chicago XI, and another 12-inch from Dogs D’Amour.

I wasn’t impressed with the sound quality, but I figured the tinny sound (even with my headphones on) quality was a result of sound reproduction through my laptop.

I was right. When I heard those tunes on my Zune, it was a different story. They were shiny and bright with very little surface noise other than the usual pops and crackles that vinyl provides.

Man, how I’ve missed those sounds! Other than the usual sound imperfections associated with vinyl wear, you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.

I highly recommend the Ion USB turntable if you have rare vinyl or if you’re too cheap to replace them with compact discs. Personally, I reside in both camps.

Cheap Trick 'The Latest'

2009-07-07T12:29:00.005-04:00

As you have noticed, I have yet to weigh in on the whole Michael Jackson cluster-fornication. There’s not a day that goes by without me hearing about it on the television, radio, or reading about it in the newspaper. I’m asked at least once a day to express my opinion. It just won’t go away.

“How has Michael Jackson’s death affected you, Eugene?” asked my mail carrier.

“What is your favorite Michael Jackson song, Eugene?” asked the cashier at Lowes Foods.

“Will you be watching the Michael Jackson memorial on television, Eugene?” asked the proctologist during my examination.

“Do you think he really touched those kids, Eugene?” asked the drive-thru attendant at Long John Silver’s.

“Is it possible that Michael Jackson’s soul soured when caught his hair on fire during the filming of that Pepsi commercial, Eugene?” asked the store manager of Dude’s adult book store.

Honestly, I was just as shocked as everyone else when I learned of his death. Someone from Fox 8 called Shark (Majic 94.1 / afternoon drive) about 30 minutes before official word got out. I figured that the skinny one had been swept up by a dust devil and was snapped like a twig when he met a telephone pole. I never expected a cardiac issue.

I watched a little bit of the coverage on Time Warner Cable’s News 14 Channel when I got to Jamie’s house. I couldn’t believe that the fans were pouring into the streets around the hospital and trying to gather at MJ’s star on Hollywood Boulevard (covered by construction equipment). I thought to myself… What dumb asses!

The guy wasn’t Elvis. He wasn’t a Beatle. He was a talented guy with a lot of problems and I gave his death about an hour of my time.

I didn’t break out any of his CD’s. That’s because I don’t have any.

I didn’t turn on the radio to hear any of his songs that started to immediately show up on stations across the dial. I even heard, through unreliable sources, that country station WTQR threw the song “Dirty Diana” into their rotation.

And unlike the sheep-like masses, I wasn’t interested in going out to the stores to waste my money on any of his music. Like every other person with O+ type blood, I had a copy of ‘Thriller’ in my LP collection. I even have copies of ‘Off The Wall’ and ‘Bad’ arranged chronologically on both sides of that massive seller.

I don’t have anything by The Jacksons.

I cannot understand why there’s so much fuss about this guy. Sure, he was a talented performer and songwriter. I’ll give him that, but I just don’t get the big public outpouring of emotion. He didn’t change music that much… But he did get a black man other than J.J. Jackson on MTV. In my opinion, there was nothing groundbreaking about his music.

Lots of groundbreaking crap in his private life… Attending events with Emmanuel Lewis as a lap ornament and Brooke Shields by his side… He practically married a monkey named Bubbles… He tried to purchase the remains of Joseph Merrick (the “Elephant Man”)… He took the songwriting rights away from The Beatles and made enemies with Paul McCartney… His skin went crazy with loss of color (somehow that didn’t seem keep Rev. Jesse Jackson and Rev. Al Sharpton out of his surrounding lime light)… He created his own home with a theme park… Invited kids over for sleepovers and allegedly gave them alcohol, slept with, and molested them… His nose gave him more trouble than a previously owned Yugo with a leaky gas tank… Let’s face it, the guy was a freak.

But I don’t think it was because he was crazy. I think it was because he grew up as an entertainer around other freaky artists. He perceived those types of shenanigans as normal things and he became a product of his environment.

If anything, he deserves our collective pity and hopefully he will find the peace in the life after this one.

As for my favorite MJ song… I’ll go with “Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough”.

I remember that song blaring over the speaker system at SkateLand USA as I was putting the prepubescent moves on a girl named Ashley. I remember the mirror ball throwing dots of light around the cavernous room. The sounds of video games like Asteroids, Space Invaders, and Death Race 2000 in the background. And gee, her hair smelled terrific.

But I didn’t get the girl and I guess I’ll never fully get the fuss about Jackson’s death.

Cheap Trick 'The Latest'

2009-07-05T13:04:00.005-04:00

Wow! It’s been over a month since my last update and I have three reasons as to why…

1. Jamie (my squeeze) has purchased a home and I’ve been helping her with my incredible painting skills along with my ability to lift heavy furniture.

2. I’ve been researching the idea of developing a website not only to exorcise the demons from my skull by writing, but also to make a little money with advertising space.

3. Because, quite frankly, I’ve really had nothing worthy to write about. Who wants to read about my workouts, laundry habits, or musings about belly button lint?

So there you have it. I’m still very much alive. As proof, I offer this to you…

facebook.com/eugenebsims

myspace.com/eugenebsims

twitter.com/eugenebsims

Now to my usual type of crap…

I have found a guilty pleasure for my Friday nights. And it’s a lot cheaper than cruising Wal-mart parking lots looking for a good time with vodka and cigarettes. It’s on the Travel Channel and it’s called Ghost Adventures.

I love this show!

Ghost Adventures has these three cats getting “locked down” in some of the most haunted places around the world. But mainly we find them camping out in places throughout the United States.

Zak Bagans is the leader who provokes spirits by yelling insults or requesting that they physically assault him. Much to his partners chagrin, Zak frequently insists that they spirits inflict harm on them. He also gives us a quick history lesson about the place where they’re going to be locked down for the night and it’s always very interesting.

Zak is a buff kind of guy who seems slightly smarter than the gel in his hair. He’s always saying hilariously stupid things without even realizing it. If he doesn’t have a prepared voice over, then there’s no telling what will come out of his mouth and that’s one of the beauties of Ghost Adventures.

Nick Groff and Aaron Goodwin are the techs and camera operators on the show. They follow Zak around with night vision cameras and are occasionally instructed to park it alone in a spirit intensive spot.

Nick seems to be very excitable and a little more prone to running when he’s frightened. Zak has often scolded him for taking a Nike flight. They even have a clip of it on the show’s intro. Of the three, he’s the quiet one.

Aaron is the balding dude with the goatee. He always has a bad feeling and rolls his eyes when Zak instructs him to spend a little time alone in the dark. He cautiously asks spirits to make noise and questions them as to how they died while closing his eyes and turning his head. He’s hilarious.

You should check out this show no matter how you feel about spirits, ghosts, and the supernatural. There’s not a Friday night that goes by where I can’t believe what those guys are doing. Provoking spirits or demons is usually a bad idea in my book, but Zak seemingly has a different library card than anyone else that believes in such things. Nick goes along with things even after he runs like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo. And Aaron is like just about every tech junkie stoner you know who reluctantly goes along with the lock down.

Try it on for size some Friday night at 9 only on the Travel Channel.

See?

I’m working on the advertising aspect of the coming website.

And speaking of the website, I’m confused as to what I should call it. I have a name in mind, but I wouldn’t mind having a eugenebsims.com either.

If you have any ideas, shoot me an email… eugenebsims@yahoo.com

Van Halen 'Balance'

2009-06-04T10:49:00.005-04:00

I’ve always been a TV junkie. There. I’ve admitted it. The first step as they say…

I was drawn to the glowing box while Green Acres, Gilligan’s Island, and The Beverly Hillbillies were on network airwaves during their first runs. Those were just the gateway programs during primetime when the family gathered in the living room for televised entertainment. That, of course, led to more afternoon recreational types of syndicated goodness… The Brady Bunch, The Wild, Wild West, The Invaders, The Addams Family, Emergency, Dragnet, Adam-12, The Munsters, and Star Trek. Now I’m into the hardcore stuff watching series that I missed the first time around on DVD.

It wasn’t uncommon to find me spending my younger days and evenings with a warm box of tubes or curled up with the new copy of ‘TV Guide’ planning out my viewing strategy for the coming week. While other kids my age were Cub or Boy Scouting, enjoying carefree summer days, and generally being a neighborhood nuisance… I was getting my TV on inside with The Bob Newhart Show or Get Smart! and reading the aforementioned “Good Book” where things were air-conditioned. I would mark things with an ink pen (before Hi-Liter technology during the dark ages of the 1970’s) that I wanted to watch. Starsky & Hutch, The Mary Tyler Moore Show, Barnaby Jones, Happy Days, Battle Of The Network Stars, and Hawaii Five-O were tops on my list.

I looked forward to each new season with its bounty of new shows that replaced the ones I didn’t like. The fall preview issue of ‘TV Guide’ was read from cover to cover every year. It didn’t really matter to me if one of my favorites was cancelled. I just moved on. Looking back at it now, I suppose that was just the mindset of my 7 year-old brain. Losing favorite shows like Night Galleryand Night Stalker only to have them replaced with something equally special was like having a pet replaced right after one died. The special ones were gone, but there were other blooming relationships roaring and ready with more programs to take me other places.

I was the weird 8 year-old that watched the premiere of Saturday Night Live and enjoyed watching The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson. Later during my teenage years, I turned to commercial free public television for The Twilight Zone and a variety of foreign programs from Great Britain, Canada, and Australia.

I also enjoyed some of the forgotten shows that appeared on the old CBN cable network like The Ann Southern Show ,Father Knows Best, and Ozzie and Harriett. The lineup proved so popular that Nickelodeon started a rival primetime lineup on “Nick-At-Night”.

I was educated with the classics during that golden age of musty old reruns. I even managed to see all the episodes of My Mother The Car!

Then television seemed less important as I got older, enjoyed the company of women, and became more mobile with vehicular ownership. That led to bills that had to be paid and getting a job meant missing even more television. A VCR was a must have! I couldn’t miss my new and few faves like Seinfeld, Newhart, and The Simpsons. Money must’ve been made so I could watch the shows at my leisure.

Within the last few years, the cycle has come back around. I’ve been watching more television programs. With so many different networks on satellite and cable, the output has gotten better and diversified. The DVR is much needed and I find myself watching programs online on network websites or Hulu as well. It’s a wonderful time for TV junkies because our drugs are seemingly everywhere and we’re not tied down to one day and time to get our fix. We can get turned on at home with the DVR or any place with WiFi. Just thinking and writing about it makes me want to rub my hands together and giggle like a madman.

But I must admit my recent television induced depression to you… It all started last week with the list of network programs getting the axe. I just couldn’t believe all the cuts!

The biggest hurtie one of them all… My Name Is Earl. I nearly wept.

It’s bad enough that Medium and Battlestar Galactica have decided to leave me on their own, but when they start messing with my loves like My Name Is Earl and Life… Well, I just want to curl up into a ball and ignore the fact that life must go on.

I honestly don’t know what the fall schedule is going to look like and I’m scared there will be nothing for me. I also feel for my mother because she’s going to lose some of her favorites like The Unit and Without A Trace.

I can’t help feeling scared and alone. My pets are dead and I won’t get any replacements until September.

Perhaps I should start a support group for other TV-a-holics like me so we can regroup, recover, and restore our lives. And we can shoot it for a reality series!

Fall Out Boy 'From Under The Cork Tree'

2009-05-22T10:03:00.005-04:00

Another season of 24 has come and gone. It wasn’t as good as I had hoped it would be, but then again anything could’ve been better than the dismal season six.

The things I liked… The return of Tony Almeida who moved to the dark side. The return of Kim Bauer and her breasts. Agent Renee Walker’s bandage and of course… Madame President’s constant questions.

The season finale only produced 11 questions from Madame President. I was sadly disappointed. All the questions were asked in the final 30 minutes and there weren’t enough to get a drinking game going for real. But (!) I was thrilled to see her send her daughter up the fabled creek of solid waste without a paddle after she had Jonas Hodges blown in the back of an SUV (sounds dirtier than it really was).

The move to Washington didn’t really thrill me. It was cool to see some of the monuments in the background during the first few episodes, but after that, all warehouses and dingy streets look the same. Where were the Redskins?

I haven’t seen any ratings for this past season, so I don’t know how it’s holding up. Like most shows, I’m sure the steam driving the 24 roller is losing pressure. It’s only natural that folks drop off as the show becomes a little tiresome and formulaic.

Here are some ideas that I have to punch things up a bit:

Steal a group of villains from the cartoon series The Tick called “The Swiss”. They have everything they need in their giant Swiss Army knives. From personal helicopters to telescopes to tweezers. And like Die Fleidermaus, you’d never expect the Swiss being up to no good. After all, they’re neutral… Or are they?

How about a group of Mexican extremists who want to take over more than America’s service industry and construction?

I can hear Jack Bauer saying it now, “They’ve been hiding under our noses this whole time. THIS WHOLE TIME!”

Jack seems to repeat things at a high volume. Another example of the things I like about 24.

But my best idea involves the President…

A good ol’ boy Republican from Texas has been elected President. He’s a former Navy Seal who means business. He shoots from the hip and he’s not afraid to shout his point across with the military.

When some crap comes down the line and Jack Bauer swings into action, Mr. President gives him all the room he needs to get things done. He knocks down anyone that doesn’t want Bauer loosing his canon. If Bauer wants or needs it, The President damn well makes sure that he gets it.

Of course this leads to conflict with hand-wringing, politically correct Liberals that try to stop Bauer and the President from crushing the enemy. So while Bauer is doing his thing against the terrorists, Mr. President and former Navy Seal is slicing and dicing his way through counter-productive, spineless Government vegetarian greenies that are inadvertently letting the baddies continue with their devious takeover of America.

This President doesn’t want to sit in the Oval Office and let Bauer have all the fun during the two hour season finale… Oh no. He shows up with guns a blazing and a small army of the Secret Service (which includes Agent Aaron Pierce) providing cover.

“Wooooo BOY!” Mr. President shouts as he lands next to Jack Bauer in the dirt.

“Mr. President… What are you doing here?” Jack asks with a disbelieving look on his face. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

“Me and the boys here ain’t gonna let you be the only Belle at this ball,” Mr. President says as he grabs a grenade launcher. “Lets do some shootin’ and we’ll send those better life hungry hombres back over the Rio Grande on a Patriot missile! Woooo Weeeeee!”

It’s just an idea.

Spanic Boys 'Spanic Boys'

2009-05-08T11:29:00.005-04:00

After a full day’s worth of writhing around in pain instead of visiting Ocracoke, it was time to pack up and leave for home.

We discussed checking out the Blackbeard artifacts at a Nautical Museum in Wilmington. I had some visions of spending a day and night there… Checking out the Blackbeard stuff by day and finding a cool watering hole by night within stumbling distance of lodging. Since we had to keep expenses down, we ditched the staying over and thought about leaving the Outer banks by way of Ocracoke. We’d take a ferry over to Cedar Island and drive to Wilmington. But we really didn’t want to spend 16 hours working our way home with that detour… So we ditched it entirely for perhaps another day.

Since I have to pack my bags for a week away (I’ll try to update while I’m gone), I’ll leave you with some of the pictures (the ones I snapped) from our trip.

We found a cool cemetery by the Pamlico Sound. I took some shots of the graveyard and some nearby fishers. And I took what turned out to be a great shot of Jamie in a replica hanger at the Wright Brothers monument in Kitty Hawk. I also took some of Jamie while we were taking our last look at the Atlantic Ocean.

Again, I’ll try to update during the next week… And as always, thanks for the visitation.

The Replacements 'Tim'

2009-05-03T15:32:00.008-04:00

Jamie and I settled in for Monday night in the early evening. Since we arrived on the Outer Banks, it had been rather chilly and with the wind… It was downright cold!

We were also there during what the locals call, the off-season. There weren’t a whole lot of things open… Like the local drinking/socializing establishments. So there wasn’t a whole lot for Jamie and I to do within walking range except for turning on the television.

There’s nothing like watching Chuck, 24, and Medium on the edge of the East Coast. Just being that much closer to the Continental Shelf made watching those shows all the more exciting.

Since we had spent our daily “mad money” at the Five Guys in Nags Head, we ate sandwiches in our room. We had packed away provisions before we left so that we could save money… After all, I don’t have a full-time job.

Before I prepared a sandwich, I opened up my cup of leftover French fries from Five Guys. Those jokers didn’t really “wow” me when they were hot and fresh, but they came alive with flavor cold and right out of the cup. They were so good, I didn’t even bother to heat them up. As a matter of fact, I ate them before I got that sandwich made.

Big mistake.

I woke up on that cold, rainy Tuesday morning with a horrible stomach ache. I begged Jamie to go out and find someone with a gun. Any kind of gun. Outdoorsy or police officer. I didn’t care as long as they were willing to put a pillow over my face and send the contents of my skull all over the floor. I just wanted to be put out of my misery.

We had planned to visit Ocracoke Island, but I didn’t leave the bed all day… That is until I broke my non-vomiting streak of over a decade.

Just when a good idea of putting something on my empty stomach popped into my head around lunch time… I got the urge to purge and made for the bathroom like a chubby and clumsy gazelle. I didn’t bother with the toilet… I pulled away the shower curtain and let those Five Guys fries loose right in the tub!

I pushed out the little bit of foul substance left in my belly, but my body wasn’t so convinced. I was dry-heaving like a mofo! My stomach had no more to give and I made noises like slaughtered animals while dry-heaving. Jamie came close to joining me just from the noise alone!

Throwing up didn’t really make me feel any better. I went back to laying on the bed to sweat or shiver or whatever my body wanted to do.

Jamie wanted to go to Pop’s for dinner, but I didn’t want to chance it. I still didn’t feel up to leaving the bed and spew chamber. I begged her to go and if I felt like eating something, I’d send her a text message.

After about an hour, I was feeling much better and asked for some grilled chicken. Little did I know that instead of going to Pop’s, she hit the Food Lion (where everyone working there now yells “WELCOME TO FOOD LION” at you when you walk through their doors… I hate that and have stopped going there) and picked up some broccoli, mashed potatoes, and rotisserie chicken. She had read my mind before I sent that message. What an angel!

I ate the delicious meal without any repercussions from the purge bugs that had apparently left my system. I was feeling better and started bitchin’ like always.

--For those new to this blog or for those confused… The title of each blog is my musical choice of day. It’s to give you a little more insight into my twisted tastes and it also shows that I have a mild OCD because of my musical rotations.

Tune in later for some pictures!

Life, Sex, Death 'The Silent Majority'

2009-04-30T11:08:00.005-04:00

I didn’t expect to take so long to update this joker… Sorry.

We arrived in Buxton near Cape Hatteras in the early evening… And for clarification, they’re pretty much the same thing… We started the task of unpacking and situating ourselves in our motel room at the Croatian something-or-another. The place was laid out like the Bates Motel from Psycho. There were a line of about 20 rooms laid out side to side. Our accommodations were in the back (where I like it) with a skateboard park nearby.

It was wonderful! You could hear sounds of the ocean, water foul getting it on in the Sound, and Emo kids heel flipping in and around the half-pipe. I kept an ear out for the undeniable sound of a compound fracture, but came up empty.

Jamie realized something horrible… She had forgotten her clothes.

This distressed her quite a bit. So much in fact that I had to “phone a friend” to convince her that four clotheshorsemen of the Apocalypse weren’t going to send her to the bowels of hell. I brought enough T-shirts that she would be all right… Perhaps looking a little frumpy in my bigger clothes… But we’d make it.

She mistook my bag in the trunk of her car for the one she left in the bedroom. The one nowhere near the gear and luggage that was going along on the trip.

After a barrage of swear words, tears, and Michele on the phone… She calmed down and realized all would be good.

In her defense, she wasn’t feeling well. Jamie was trying to get rid of a cold that had came on suddenly. She was popping Zyban like a roomful of kids in an endless Skittles taste test.

We got up Monday morning and drove around to find a particular joint that we wanted to eat at… Pop’s I think, but I can’t remember. We found it, turned around, and made the impromptu decision to go ahead and look at the Hatteras Lighthouse.

I had no need to see it, but I know Jamie would love to snap a picture of it. For me, unless I have a burning desire to see something… Then I’m happy with just taking a look at a picture or watch it on the television. Looking at lighthouses has never thrilled me.

I like looking at pelicans and you can’t get an eyeball on them here in the Piedmont. They just look weird and alien to me, especially when they’re flying. Anyways, that’s a different story…

After spending time with other tourists who appeared to be either Canadians or AARP members, it was time to split the scene. We drove north to visit the Wright Brother’s monument in Kitty Hawk. I had been there and found it mildly entertaining, but Jamie had never been.

We were starting to feel hungry before we got to Kill Devil Hills so we started looking for a place to fill our void. We passed by several establishments until I saw a Five Guys. We don’t have one in Greensboro, but it’s highly recommend by Jeff Kay (thewvsr.com). I cut across 2 lanes of traffic and slid Jamie’s Taurus into the parking lot and rocked to a stop perfectly parked between two painted lines with a frightened pregnant woman a few feet from the bumper. It was a thing of beauty! Robby Gordon would have been jealous.

We went inside to find it crowded with peanut shells on the floor and a short line of people placing their orders. Looking at the massive wads of aluminum wrapped burgers (large), we both decided to go with the smaller size. They listed two different sizes of fresh cut fries, small and large. I decided to get a large for the two of us to share.

They called our order number for us to pick up. I lifted the bag and that joker felt as heavy as a cantaloupe. When I got it to the table and looked inside, all I could see were French fries. They stuff a large Styrofoam cup overfilled with fries in there with 2 burgers and fill the remaining space in the bag with more fries. There were enough fries in there to feed a car full of clowns!

We ended up taking the fries home because I’m not a wasteful kind of person. In retrospect, that was a mistake.

--Next update: I’ll touch on Kitty Hawk and my mistake.

Gipsy Kings 'este mundo'

2009-04-23T10:56:00.004-04:00

Jamie and I left for the Outer Banks on Easter Morning (I kept forgetting that it was Easter) around 8:30am. That’s an early time for me to start traveling, but we had to drop off Lucy (Jamie’s dog that can lick Teddy off Mt. Rushmore) at Dianna’s for a short stay.

We stopped for some breakfast at Bo Jangle’s (love those Cajun filet biscuits) and the parade of well-dressed church folk. One gentleman caught my attention… He was a man that appeared to be approaching his 70’s with slick black hair and large golden-rimmed glasses. He was probably one of the few remaining men in North Carolina that uses Vitalis with regularity. But those weren’t the things that got my attention… He was dressed in a loose purple suit with red pinstripes and red kerchief in the breast pocket.

Not to sound like a racial profiler here, but that’s not the kind of suit that you’d find on a retired white guy with an average looking Church Lady kind of wife in King, North Carolina.

On Halloween?

Sure. Why not?

But not on Easter morning.

The guy looked like a cross between Gomez Adams and Sean “Puffy” Combs. When we left, I scanned the parking lot for a large 4WD pick-up truck complete with a gun rack and spinners. I didn’t see that, but I did notice a silver Chrysler 300 with a John Deere license plate on the front.

With that stand-out-of-the-day in our rearview mirror, we proceeded onto Greensboro to hit the Best Buy. Jamie needed a new digital camera and the joint was on our way.

We arrived to find the parking lot devoid of passenger vehicles. I wasn’t so shocked because it was shortly after 10am. The sign informed us that the joint wouldn’t open until 11am. I knew another Best Buy could be found in Burlington, but it wasn’t going to be open when we would be driving through… So Jamie got on the horn and called a friend to search the web for Best Buy stores along our route.

Jennifer told us about the Best Buy in Rocky Mount, NC. She gave Jamie directions that were quickly confused with other things not written down and we took an obviously wrong exit. But we got back on track and found the right course.

Imagine our surprise to find the parking lot of a large strip mall completely empty. Jamie’s Taurus, a Subaru Outback checking Best Buy like us, and tumbleweeds were the only things rolling around in that lot.

I was in complete and utter amazement!

There were no signs on the door… Only the steel door drawn to the floor told us they were closed for Easter.

Did I mention that I kept forgetting it was Easter?

Jamie needed that camera because she’s a picture FREAK! I’ve never met anyone that goes through serious withdrawal if she doesn’t hear a picture being snapped every hour. I find it rather amusing and annoying at times when the thing is pointed at me.

She said, “I wonder if there’s a Wal-Mart close by…”

When we were pulling out of the ghost town lot, I looked to my right and there it was… The Wal-Mart and it’s butt hole logo.

She picked up a cool new Kodak camera and we were back on our way.

We made a quick stop at the Roanoke Island rest area. I was amazed at the smell one man could produce while I made my offering of gold to the porcelain gods. I could hear him wiping away in his stall. He was going to town in there… It sounded as if he was cleaning a penguin after the Exxon Valdez oil spill. It was a combination of dig, wipe, wipe, dig, wipe, wipe, wipe over and over again. I made sure to look at my feet after he flushed because I was afraid that his bowl was going to overflow with his refuse. I got my kegel muscles ready to stop the flow so that I could move to higher ground.

Then the dude opened the stall door and made an exit like Batman. I didn’t see him or hear him… And I especially didn’t hear him wash his hands.

Oooooo I hate that! I washed my hands and used paper towels on every door to exit the building. Nothing grosses me out more than a non-hand washer. ESPECIALLY after a toxic dump offering to the gods.

The rest of the ride was uneventful and my Zune kept us in non-repeating music for over 7 hours to Cape Hatteras.

More tomorrow and thanks for checking in!

Clang Quartet 'The Separation Of Church & Hate'

2009-04-09T11:16:00.003-04:00

Have you gotten your tax refund(s) back yet?

I filed for the first time online and had checks from the Feds and State within 2 weeks. You can’t imagine how amazed this rather pessimistic person was when they hit my bank account.

Instead of spending it on something frivolous like out-of-print Get A Life DVD’s, closing up the holes in my Buffy The Vampire Slayer DVD collection with seasons six and seven, or a docking station for my Zune… I let those jokers ride in my bank account.

After all, I’m only lucky enough to have found employment part-time and rainy days come and go. So I’d better leave that dinero in my account for a rainy day that may not be on my immediate forecast.

My tax return has always been earmarked for something frivolous and very permanent… A tattoo.

But something always comes up where I can’t spend my return having ink inserted with needles into the layers of my skin. Oh sure, I’ve heard from tattooed people that not having the immediate funds wouldn’t affect their decisions… I guess that I’m just practical and value the dollar more than having art inked on me with a side of slight discomfort.

I’ve found the perfect tattoo idea and I’d love to show you, but I can’t find the image on Google and my book is packed away in storage. The artwork is a caricature of Lisa and Oliver Douglas in their famous “American Gothic” pose from the opener of Green Acres. The artwork calls for black and gray inks that would show up nicely on my semi-pale skin. I want it on the outside of my calf on my right leg.

I’ve seen everything from the members of KISS, confederate flags, the General Lee (Dukes Of Hazzard), flowers, butterflies, hula girls, crosses, Motley Crue, to tribal armbands and I don’t find it stupid at all. A Green Acres tattoo represents me and all that I stand for… Seemingly stupid revealed to be intelligent with razor sharp wit buried beneath upon closer inspection.

Green Acres was a staple in my life starting from a very young age. I even remember the show being on the television in the primetime hours. And when the show went into syndication, I was in heaven… Green Acres five days a week!

I planned my days around reruns of that show. And along with The Beverly Hillbillies, that show shaped my young mind. It twisted my sense of humor and caused my brain to think outside that proverbial box. To this day I will answer a question or comment meant for someone else because of that show. For example:

“You’re looking beautiful tonight,” Gordy said to Penelope.

Without giving time for Penelope to answer, I said, “Thank you! It’s wonderful of you to notice!”

I’ve recently forced my girlfriend Jamie to watch episodes of Green Acres. I record them from TV Land with her DVR. She remembered watching the show when she was younger, but she never realized how funny the show was until I force fed one episode to her. Now it’s pretty much expected that we watch a few episodes with adult beverages in hand when we get together. We will often end up on the floor with teary-eyed laughter.

But the show does polarize people… They either love it or hate it and that always tells me a lot about that person. Which side do you fall on?

--I know this won’t be a shock to some of you, but I’ll be taking a week off from updating this blog. Jamie and I are headed for Cape Hatteras next week. We’re going to ride a ferry, look at a lighthouse, check out Kitty Hawk, find pubs to crawl to, and look out over the ocean. Perhaps I’ll have some pictures for you on the next update.

I really wanted to drop by the museum that’s housing artifacts that are believed to be from Blackbeard’s ship Queen Anne’s Revenge. Edward Teach and his Blackbeard legacy has intrigued me since I started watching Green Acres. The dude was a kickass believer in presentation. He was pro wrestling and KISS when it came to presenting himself… Very showy. I guess that’s one of the reasons Blackbeard intrigued me so much. But time just won’t let us drop by for a gander.

I’ll just try to get Jamie hammered and sign a statement saying that we’ll burn a beach day to go look at old things.

Have a good one folks and you can follow my happenings here at Twitter.

Black Sabbath 'Dehumanizer'

2009-04-05T13:13:00.004-04:00

It’s about time for an update, don’t you think?

Has anyone been watching the current season of 24?

I don’t hear anyone talking about it anymore, but then again, I don’t listen to morning radio these days. I also don’t really have a water cooler to stand around and talk with coworkers about television shows.

I’m not sure if the Jack Bauer character has always been the way he is this current season… But he’s becoming a caricature and a drinking game. He’s always repeating himself at a high volume. He’ll say something like “Tell me now” and when the person doesn’t cooperate he’ll say it louder. It’s almost laughable. Keifer’s acting is becoming a lot like Nicolas Cage’s who seemingly has an agent that searches out scripts for him to yell from time to time.

I suppose that’s the only way to become a respected and seasoned actor… Yelling.

24 has a drinking game built in. Just take a swig after Bauer barks a repeated line. You’ll be hammered in no time.

Another drinking game and laughable character is the current Madame President.

Before I begin with my thoughts on that character, lets back up a bit...

I’m a conspiracy minded person and I believe that the powerful 1% control what we see, hear, and read. In a sense, the general population are sheep and will gladly fall in line with whatever those people in power put before us.

24 became an instant success. Millions of viewers loved watching Jack Bauer every week. Those millions also didn’t mind a black President. The viewers saw a gutsy, admirable President Palmer. The character was so well liked that he lasted a few seasons on the show. The show’s ideals have always pushed the right wing philosophy. Even Palmer seemed like a Grand Ol’ Partier.

The puppet masters running things got the American population primed and ready to accept a black man running for President even if he lacked the political experience. The sheep were ready for “change”. The sheep didn’t realize that those pulling the strings already had Obama’s steamroller warmed up in the garage and ready to roll. The sheep have seen a black President on their television sets and he was cool… So why not?

And if I had a nickel for every person that I have personally heard say “Anybody but Bush” (or seen it on a bumper sticker), I’d have at least nine dollars and thirty-five cents. The sheep were primed and ready to give Obama and the Democrats a shot in the high office.

Politics are just a parlor game to keep the sheep busy and occupied while the puppet masters keep working on their agenda. After all, the Fox Networks are right wing and they’ve helped pave the way for the Democrats and Obama with 24. “Hope” and “change” have seemingly been provided, but look a little closer. It’s all smoke and mirrors with no real change.

Obama was handed a big pile of crap to work with. But the big pile of crap is designed that way. Obama has a lot of the same string pullers that Clinton had in his camp. They’re folks that know the agenda and that have little regard for the sheep. Unfortunately, Obama is set to fail and the American public will have a bad taste left in their mouths after he leaves office. That’s the way it’s designed to be.

Just take a look at broken campaign promises and some of the things that Obama’s already done since taking office. Many of the things that have been done are meant to devalue the American dollar in order to bring the United States down to the level with the rest of the World to help usher in the NWO. Those in power want a global community.

If you don’t believe me, listen to how much you hear the word “global” these days.

But back to 24‘s Madame President…

Those in power are now pushing a woman President and that character has me laughing my ass off every week.

Why?

The character seems ridiculously stupid. She’s constantly asking questions and she’ll even answer questions with questions. And you can totally get hammered with a Madame President drinking game… Just tilt the bottle whenever she asks a question. I lost count during last week’s episode after 11 questions and that was within the first 20 minutes of the show.

Does this mean they’re preparing the American public for a female President?

I don’t think so. They’re making President Taylor (Madame President) so stupid that it will sour the idea of a woman in that real-life role. She’s gotten rid of a trusted advisor while pulling in her little bitchy daughter that looks ready to stick a shiv right between her mother’s shoulder blades. Madame President only makes bold decisions after running it by a few men. Once the daughter starts influencing her decisions there will be serious backlash.

Why?

Because Madame President has been painted up as weak and stupid.

But the season isn’t over… There’s a chance she’ll become a little more intelligent. I just wouldn’t put any money on it.

For those that disagree, feel free to leave a comment.

Tina Turner 'What's Love Got To Do With It'

2009-03-26T12:24:00.007-04:00

I got to see Watchmen during its second weekend in the theaters and it was worth the 20 year wait. Yeah, I’m a geek… But ‘Watchmen’ was and is one of the greatest comics/graphic novels ever produced (the other would be ‘V For Vendetta’).

If you’d like to see how much of a geek I was about ‘Watchmen’, just check out my MySpace page. Look at the pictures of me hanging out with the staff of Rock 92 during the early days… Say around 1988 or so… I’m the “cute girl” in the denim jacket on the left that’s being kissed by “Boy Doug”.

Take a look at the area of my left lapel and you’ll clearly see a blood-streaked Comedian button… For those who do not know; a smiley-face button with a drop of blood over the right eye.

I forced Jamie to see it with me along and exposing her to all things geek. She enjoyed it enough that she’s now reading the book.

During our screening, Jamie’s cell phone rang. I leaned over to her and said, “If this were opening day… All kinds of stuff would be thrown at you.”

Comic geeks don’t fool around when it comes to film adaptations of their graphic heroes. When I went with my buddy Sean Whitley on opening day of the first Spider-Man flick, someone’s cell phone rang through the excited chatter going on in the auditorium.

“TURN OFF CELL PHONES!” shouted a group in the back. And this was before they darkened the joint to show trailers.

Of course someone else’s phone rang during the trailer extravaganza before the feature presentation and the geek group sounded bigger and even demonic with their throaty voices booming, “TURN OFF CELL PHONES!!!”

Thankfully for Jamie and I, there were only 2 other people in the 11am Sunday showing of The Watchmen. They must not have liked it, because during the last hour or so of the nearly 3 hour film, we had the auditorium to ourselves.

I loved Watchmen! It was nearly perfect and very true to the novel.

One unbelievably astounding complaint that I’ve heard and read about the film… “It’s too much like the book”

That just blows me away, ladies and gentlemen.

I gave it 5 out of 5 stars on Netflix. My only complaint was not seeing the retired second generation Night Owl kicking serious ass with his retired potbelly. I just found that funny while reading and viewing the book.

Oh well… My inner geek is extremely pleased with Watchmen.

After the film, Jamie and I paid our respects to the porcelain gods with golden streams of held water… And I found two things disturbing me at The Grande in Winston-Salem (off University Parkway near Highway 52) while she presented her offering…

The design of the place is crazy! The waiting and refreshment area is huge It has a very high ceiling. The bathrooms located across from the snack counter have no doors.

First thought that popped into my head… Can you imagine how many ass-plosions the counter staff hear per day?

There are lulls between screenings of all the films shown at those complexes. That area isn’t always teeming with activity and someone sometime during the day is going to have to offer all they have to those porcelain gods with great noise and praise.

It MUST be funny as hell!

The other thing that I found disturbing while waiting for Jamie… Why are teenage males trying to look like supermodels from the 1960’s?

There was this cat running around in a hat that looked like Pikachu was trying to swallow him, pegged jeans, and one of those stupid - STUPID! - Emo hairstyles where it looks like the back of your head blew off and your hair all went forward.

The kid had to be 14 or 15 and it was all I could do to keep from staring in disbelief. Because I know… I KNOW… If I were to take a picture of him that very moment and presented it to him twenty years later, he’d be one embarrassed thirty-something mofo.

Don’t we all have those types of pictures where we question ourselves about what the hell we were thinking?

My biggest problem wasn’t the Emo hairstyle that caused me to turn around so I could laugh under my breath (pegged jeans don’t bother me so much)… It was the Pikachu hat.

Again… He looked to be about 14 or 15 and WELL over the Pikachu age limit. His hairstyle and pegged jeans gave him that angst kind of look I’m sure he was going for, but the hat totally offset that.

I imagined him sitting with his skateboard in a police station waiting for his parents after getting busted for vandalism, shoplifting, or anything else kids get popped for looking like an overgrown six-year-old.

His friend looked like a normal guy… Jeans, t-shirt (I think it was a Doors shirt), jacket, along with a normal type of hairstyle. He looked like the kind of timeless teenager that won’t cower in fear when someone breaks out a photo album twenty years from now.

Oh well… There’s something to be said about the unintentional and mildly entertaining folks that walk by our everyday lives. I’m just not sure I know exactly what to say.

Soul II Soul 'Club Classics Vol. One: 10th Anniversary Edition'

2009-03-22T13:08:00.003-04:00

I’m finally back to some kind of normalcy with my sleep schedule. I only have one thing bugging me though… Sleeping 9 to 10 hours almost every day. That’s just not the way I roll out of bed, unless I’m super tired. So I must be very tired for some odd reason or perhaps it’s my body’s way of saying, “Whoa! Lets not do that early stuff anymore.”

I am a night owl by nature. I’ve always been a creature of the night staying up past midnight and I’ve been that way since I was a little punk playing with small plastic army men.

I was watching The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson while other kids were dreaming about being the next Bruce Jenner or Dorothy Hamill. I’d be watching ABC Late Night reruns of Starsky & Hutch and Baretta as the rest of my family slept and made drool spots on their pillows.

Sometimes I have to turn against my night owl ways and conform to a different sleep schedule. And let me be honest here… I’ve always been a firm believer in getting at least 8 hours every night. So to keep with my 8 hour belief, I will rearrange my schedule to keep myself rested and from taking hostages at McDonald’s if they screw up by putting pickles on my Quarter Pounder. I can get quite ill if I don’t get at least 6 hours of sleep.

While I was the interim morning host on Majic 94.1 for a month, I was doing my best by going to bed around 8pm every night.

Even though I wasn’t the happiest of mofos when my REM sleep was being interrupted by an alarm clock… I was rested. My eyes may have screamed until red when I put in my contact lenses, but the bottom line saw them with 8 hours of rest and closed lids.

I will admit to sucking down more than my fair share of hi-octane coffee until 9am because it just seemed necessary. My body kept saying, “What are you doing up at this hour?” And if that weren’t enough, the little man that lived in my guts felt it necessary to purge the contents every single early morning.

That’s just not my routine.

For years, I’ve always read articles about staying on a sleep schedule and it always made sense to me. So even on the weekends, I would stick to the same type of schedule with a few modifications. I would stay up to 9 or 10pm and get up at 5am. I felt by keeping that type of weekend schedule, I would be deprived of a few hours and ready to crash at 8pm like a bandicoot.

It worked.

I came to the realization that Elaine Bennis’ theory on old coots like Mr. Seinfeld (Elaine called for late day meetings to make Jerry’s dad quit J. Peterman because old guys are up before dawn and crash in the mid-afternoon) was dead on correct. Around 3 or 4pm every day… I found it very difficult to keep my eyes open and my mood good. On the weekends, I found that time of day a great time to take a nap in case I was going to have a late night. Like the night I went to see Johnny Winter at the Carolina Theatre.

The biggest drawback from going to bed at sunset and getting up before those fabled early birds was missing all my favorite television programs. I’m still behind on Medium (2 episodes), Burn Notice (6 episodes), Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles (3 episodes), Leverage (3 episodes), and The Office (1 episode).

The only show that I damn well made a point of keeping up with… Lost. The current season may be seeing the lowest ratings of its run, but I feel compelled to write that it’s the best season and has kept me jonesing for the next week’s episode.

Thank Allah for being able to watch episodes online!

Orange Nicole 'Orange Nicole'

2009-03-11T13:06:00.003-04:00

I haven’t really been shouting about my mornings at Majic 94.1. I’ve been doing weather and traffic updates there since Bob & Wendy were let go. Nothing more than that… And if I ever let some of my personality come across in any of those updates, I would hear about it.

So with that being said… It’s no fun getting up at 4am to run a board at a radio station when you can’t be creative or actually try to have fun. It becomes a chore rolling out of bed, taking a shower, slapping some contacts into tired eyes, and driving 47 minutes to work.

If I were allowed to be creative and/or have fun during the mornings, then it wouldn’t be such a bitch.

Oh well… Just another bump in my road to world domination.

Every jock in radio needs one important tool… A pair of headphones.

When you cut on a microphone, everything else goes silent and the only way to monitor what you’re doing is to wear a set of “cans” over your ears.

Some folks go all out with their particular tools of the trade. I’ve seen people spend some damn good money on Sennheiser or Sony professional headphones. I just can’t seem to bring myself to pull that trigger.

I’ve got the same headphones that I purchased back in 1986 with my first fully digitally recorded compact disc.

Yep! I was so thrilled to purchase Judas Priest’s ‘Turbo’ on compact disc because not only was it going to be the first CD I ever owned. It was a digital recording!

I wanted to hear every possible thing that Judas Priest recorded on that album. I didn’t want to miss anything and the best way to hear all that digitally recorded goodness was to slap on some headphones. I wanted to hear the crispness up close. I expected to hear every nuance from K.K. Downing and Glenn Tipton’s guitars, stereo effects, and Rob Halford’s powerful vocals with a pair of Sony MDR CD10 headphones that I purchased for $19.99 plus tax.

Those “cheap” headphones have been with me for 23 years and they’re still working fine. I’ve even joked with other jocks that my “cans” should have a velvet rope around them because they can be considered antiques. The plastic covering that keeps the padding over the ears have cracked, but haven’t come off. Both the left and right work fine, so I feel no need to purchase another pair. They get the job done and hold up when I screw up a voice break and toss them harshly onto the console.

They were constantly borrowed at Rock 92/1075 KZL when other jocks forgot their headphones… Mainly Coup Delicious… I never worried about someone walking off with an expensive pair of headphones or leaving them somewhere kleptomaniacs gather.

They’re not the most comfortable things to wear… When I would sit in answering phones for Two Guys Named Chris or running the board for Murphy in the Morning, they would cause my ears to question why I haven’t replaced them with something better or softer. After about 2 hours of constant wear, those jokers made my ears a little sore.

They’ve been with me for so long, I couldn’t just turn to another pair when they were working fine. And besides, I didn’t really want to spend the dinero on another pair. If something is working fine for me, then I tend not to replace it.

Just the other day, I had a scare. My voice dropped out during a break. The first thought I had… “Are my headphones giving up the ghost?”

I tested them by shaking the cord around just in case there was a problem and found nothing. So I paid close attention to every voice break thereafter. It happened again. My voice dropped out, but the music bed was still in both ears. I found out the next day that the effects rack on the microphone was the culprit and I couldn’t have been happier. My old girl is still going strong!

Even though I don’t use them with my Zune or anything else, I decided that I’m going to continue using them until they give out. They’re still going strong and can take a beating. I find no reason to change up.

--And my pineapple fetish is still going strong! I loaded up with six 16oz cans to help me through the week!

19Wheels '5UGAR33N'

2009-03-09T14:47:00.000-04:00

As I understand it, cravings are the body’s way of telling you something. That’s why dogs will eat cat turds from litter boxes… They’re craving something that can be found in a cat’s refuse. Oh sure, the feline species have been laughing their hindquarters off about it for centuries, but a dog eating cat cakes is something that should be taken seriously. All cravings should be taken seriously.

Last week I answered the craving calling and for the first time in my life (I’m 42 years old) I purchased fruit. This particular milestone made me feel lighter in my shoes… It made me happy.

I had been craving pineapple and so I dropped by my local Food Lion and found me some little prepackaged cups. It took awhile, but I managed to find some packed in pineapple juice without the sugar. I was pretty proud of myself. It was a bold step out of my usual line of the eating junk that will surely put me into an early grave.

Sure enough, there had to be one detractor during my personal triumph… A coworker had to rain on my own back-patting session by calling my cups of pineapple “processed”.

“You’ve seen pineapples, right?” I asked. “I’ll take processed pineapple over fresh every time. You need a Black & Decker just to get to the delicious meat of the pineapple. Who has that kind of time?”

I know I don’t and besides… I’m lazy when it comes to skinning and gutting a pineapple… As if I’ve done it. It just looks like something difficult to do while keeping fingers in tact.

I can’t seem to stop eating the stuff these days. I consume at least 2 of those processed cups everyday. I’m prepared to start buying 12-ounce cans of it by the case. I love the stuff so much that I’ve found myself passing fruit stands that aren’t on the way home.

I’ve been thinking about trying Pineapple Upside Down Cake for the first time… Eating a Hawaiian Pizza… Concocting a drink with pineapple juice and Jim Beam… And paying women to let me suck pineapple rings off their ass cheeks. I’m suddenly in the grips of some sort of pineapple madness. No other fruit has ever caused me to act this way… My raisin lust of the mid-70’s was just a phase. But this passion for pineapple feels like the real thing. I’m starting to think that pineapple may just very well be my soul mate of produce.

Just writing about it right now is causing my jaw a little pain and my saliva glands are working up a flood in my Jonestown of a mouth.

Screw it!

I’m cutting this update short and getting myself a cup of pineapple. It’s so delicious and loaded with potassium!

--I've finally joined the Twitter ranks. I wasn't too keen on the idea a year ago, but if I'm going to get my first justifiable homicide... I need a pool of stalkers to choose from, right?

Neverland 'Neverland'

2009-03-07T10:41:00.007-05:00

Has a month actually passed since my last update??

With a busier than normal schedule resulting from changes around me beyond my control (or knowledge for that matter) along with nothing happening worth writing about will allow a month to pass. I didn’t mean for it to happen. It just did.

I appreciate the emails, phone calls, and even text messages. It warms my dark little heart to know that folks appreciate the brain seepage that I call a blog. I may not have anything that actually “matters”… It’s just great to know there are a few of you out there that actually get a smile or chuckle from Too Dangerous For Daylight.

I just wanted to say thanks.

Now to the BS…

I’ve been “babysitting” the board at Majic 94.1 from 5:30am to 10am on the weekdays. It’s been my job just to do traffic and weather updates. Nothing more. And if I did more… Lets just say that I received a little micromanaging critique.

When I’m holed up in a room for four hours playing songs older than 99.9% of the vehicles out on the roads today I will look for distractions. What greater distraction than the box that sits in just about radio broadcasting booth around the globe?

The television.

I’ve discovered more things about morning television than I ever wanted to know. Getting out of bed and showering at an ungodly hour five days a week will give you a quick education.

Here’s my breakdown on things…

WXII has the eye candy for those bloodshot peepers rolling off the pillows, but seems to lack substance… Or something. I’ll admit to watching for a little Kimberly Van Scoy, The Duc, and the rapping traffic girl. I like Austin Caviness even though he lacks the grace and beauty of the ladies. I just can’t put my finger on why I don’t dig channel 12. Since they’re in Winston-Salem, it may just be a Springfield / Shelbyville kind of thing.

WFMY / channel 2 is the local broadcasting equivalent of Prince. They’re throwing a bunch of words at you to make it seem that channel two is the be all, end all of local television. They’re WFMY News 2 sometimes. Other times, they’re WFMY News 2 Get Answers. I’ve heard rumors that they’re considering to add even more to that banner… “WFMY News 2 Get Answers with a side of Ranch” to appeal to even more viewers. In my opinion, they’re like the network they’re affiliated with. WFMY is like uptight grandparents that possess no zest for life. They’re staunch, boring, and make me want to change the channel. Although I must say that Tracy McCain is a frakkin’ doll!

Fox 8 WGHP has it going on… But I do have complaints about them. Fox 8 is always pushing their programs onto you as if they’re news stories. American Idol and the happenings on that show aren’t news. And for those that do care about American Idol, I’m sure they’re watching that crap already. Those viewers have no need for recaps from Cindy and Brad the morning after. Bottom line: programming isn’t news.

Fox 8 caused me to start laughing my ass off just before my traffic/weather update around 7:50am yesterday. It took me a few good minutes to get my bearings and keep my laughter in check…

Fox 8 were promoting “colon awareness” all morning long with Shannon Smith doing updates from a doctor’s office somewhere in the Triad. I wasn’t really paying attention because I was already aware of my colon. You see, getting up at 4am wrings my guts like a trash compactor. It’s like there’s a little man living in there and when his sleeping schedule is thrown outta whack… He evacuates everyone and everything out of the building.

Since I didn’t have the sound turned up, I didn’t know they were going to top off the morning with a visual stroll through some old bag’s colon.

That’s right!

They had a split screen going on with a doctor and assistant (perhaps a nurse) standing over an old lady resting on a table as one visual while the other gave us a view of some sort of pink alien caverns.

The doctor was feeding a tube into the patient while wearing a small windshield over his face and that tube had a camera at the end of it. The alien caverns were the inside of that old bag’s colon!

It looked something like this...

Yeah boy! They were squirting liquids to hose down the walls of that woman’s rectum and colon! It was all pink inside and you could see the blood vessels inside the colon walls. Seeing it on the morning news was so sick and strange for me to see that I could do nothing but laugh like a nervous hyena.

But that wasn’t enough for Fox 8... Oh no!

To make my Friday morning even more surreal… Twenty minutes later the Fox 8 morning news air staff were outside in the parking lot playing round ball with ACC team mascots.

Fox 8 always seems to make the mornings interesting. I would have never envisioned a morning topped off with a colon squirt and mascot basketball.

They deserve some sort of an award. Thank you Fox 8.

Kid Rock 'Cocky'

2009-02-09T20:40:00.011-05:00

I’m over the age of 40 and really starting to realize that I’m falling apart like a matchstick man in one of those old exercise machines with a belt that just shook people. And to be quite honest, I don’t like it.

My eyes have gone from nearsighted bad to nearsighted bad with a side of reading glasses… If that makes any sense. I get pains all the time and I’m not talking about the kind of pain that aches for a while. I’m talking about those quick stabbing pains that hit you and go away for no apparent reason… It’s like I’m someone’s little voodoo doll. My asthma hasn’t really gotten worse, so I suppose that’s good news.

A week ago last Saturday, I went up to Pilot Mountain for the first time and I’m talking about the actual mountain.

During my 42 years on this Earth, I’ve passed by that joker on Highway 52 or have seen it in the distance at least a thousand times. I’ve even flown right over it in a 2-seater airplane and felt the wind lift up the craft as if whipped around the large granite landmark. But I never visited the Pilot Mountain State Park to see it up close.

I’ve passed it on my way to and from West Virginia to visit relatives with my father driving our family car for the majority of those thousand times. My father only had one planned stop in Hillsville, Virginia for us to lessen our bladders and that’s when we were small kids. Otherwise, you were expected to hang it out the window to christen the side of the car.

Every time I passed it, I couldn’t help but look up at it from the highway. At night, I would try looking for it even if there was no moon light. I always wondered what the world looked like from that mountain. But our father never stopped. We had to be in West Virginia or home as quickly as possible without sniffing any roses along our way.

As I pass by at the base of the mountain these days, I always think about how monstrous that mountain must have been millions of years ago… How much water it took to erode the soil to reveal the unmistakable granite knob… How people have used it as a landmark when traveling from one place to another during the existence of mankind… From traveling on foot to horses to wagons to commuting in cars.

I recently went up there with Jamie for a look-see and a hike. I was amazed to see the skylines of Winston-Salem, Greensboro, High Point, and I swear that I could see Charlotte from the various lookouts too.

After pointing to various things on the sprawling landscape, we took a hike around the knob. We chose the moderate course that was listed at eight tenths of a mile. I didn’t want to spend a whole day up there when there’s some television to be watched.

The steps were steep at certain points of the hike and my chest was beating like there was a wrongly imprisoned man passionately pounding on a cell door. It felt good to get the ol’ plasma circulating around a little faster than usual until… My asthma kicked in.

Breathing can be a harsh mistress and that bitch had me gasping and wondering if I was going to make it back to the place where I left my inhaler. I had to stop from time to time to chill out.

I wished I had brought a camera along with me, but I’ll remember it next time. And yes, I’m taking the inhaler.

I’m hoping to visit again this weekend… If my foot problem clears up.

Again. To revisit the opening of this blog, I’m falling apart.

The day after hiking the knob on Pilot Mountain, a tendon or muscle around my left heel bone started aching. By Friday, I was using a crutch just to get around the house. Every step was a tour through a Hellraiser movie type of pain with Pinhead.

It’s still no fun, but the foot is getting better.

Various Artists 'Summer Sampler 2000'

2009-01-29T15:33:00.002-05:00

I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel with blog topics these days. There’s just not a whole lot going on around me worth writing about. There’s no one irritating me at the moment, I don’t give a damn about fawning over our new President, and I don’t have a new hairdo.

If I’m not working at my part-time gig down in Lexington (more on that later), then I’m hanging out at home to hold on to my money. It’s when I’m out of the house that things happen to me worth writing about… Rode around in the backseat of someone’s car sucking on Jagermeister while we did clockwise laps around the Paper Moon parking lot to find a spot to park… I don’t dare tell you more about the evening. I sparingly gave out a few tips here and there, but I didn’t give up too many greenbacks.

I know that in the grand scheme of things, it’s wrong to keep my dinero clutched in my hands. I know how the economy works. Flowing money is the blood that circulates around the body of this country. When the money blood flow stops percolating, the body isn’t getting all it needs. Things wither and die. And that’s just what we’re seeing now with thousands of layoffs across the country.

That’s also the problem… I’m not working full time and I don’t have any idea when I’ll be contributing to the economy again. I need the full time backing from an employer to commit my fair share of disposable income to the beer/liquor industry, the movie industry, and the music industry. With the money I’ve tossed into the beer/liquor sector, there should be no layoffs at the breweries or Jim Beam Distillery until at least June.

Ready for some sad news?

I haven’t a drop of alcohol in almost two weeks.

Yep. That’s right. No booze has passed through my lips since Monday, January 19th.

I thought I would get some kind of health benefit from it, but I haven’t noticed yet. But I must say that going to the Twin City Cyclones hockey game last Friday night was a lot cheaper than my previous trip. The only thing out of my pocket was the dinner before hand. So there’s that… No booze is easier on my pocketbook.

I like beer. As a matter of fact, I love beer. I love the many types of beer. I love the smells. I love the tastes. If you filtered beer through a cat’s sphincter, I don’t think it would phase me one bit. I’d wash that allergy pill down with the largest Stroh’s I can get my hands around.

I haven’t really missed the alcohol, but I do like holding on to my money just a little bit longer. So I can totally understand why everyone isn’t spending like they used to, but sadly… It affects us all and this ride isn’t going to be over anytime soon.

Stratocruiser 'Revolutions (ADVANCE COPY)'

2009-01-28T12:17:00.005-05:00

I found myself thinking about an accusation made against me years ago while ripping my Stone Temple Pilots CD to my Zune player… I noticed that the album ‘Purple’ was released in 1994. I also ripped Stickboy’s ‘Sings My Songs’ and Stratocruiser’s ‘Revolutions (ADVANCE COPY)’ CD’s released 2001 and 2006 respectively.

The accusation against me?

I never bought or listened to anything from the 1990’s.

I felt that the accusation was false. I still feel very much the same today. The first paragraph is proof positive that my listening tastes grew past the teased hair of the 80’s and the glitter of the 70’s. There’s also evidence in my collection with compact discs by Soundgarden, Alice In Chains, Nirvana, Smashing Pumpkins, Collective Soul, Silverchair, Blind Melon, Radiohead, Foo Fighters, Primal Scream, and Bush.

I must admit something… For the most part of the 1990’s, I felt that the music being churned out just downright sucked. Hard rock (my favorite genre) was still there, but it was being packaged as “Alternative”. The only differences were all the tattoos and piercings along with the lack of whammy bars or tremolo arms on the guitars.

And who can forget, the 1990’s spawned the Honda Civic of tattoos… The tribal armband. They made everyone very special.

It was a great time of revolution that made my eyes roll. And if you don’t realize it, I’m being a bit sarcastic.

The musical artists that I loved were being tossed out of the business like used cat litter. And for what?

Dirty hair, tattoos, misdirected angst, and heroin?

I don’t mind being of accused of anything that’s true, because in the majority of those cases I will own up to it. But when I’m falsely accused of something, it will eat and eat on me until that buzzard gets to the bone.

Oh sure… I’m a guy that grew up dining on the musical feast that were the 70’s and 80’s. Some of the CD’s from that era will always be a part of my diet and they’ll never go away. Those days were carefree and fun with little responsibility. It wasn’t unusual for me to buy an LP once a week (later to be replaced by the latest in technological advances).

I spent most of my 90’s working for Capitol Records at a distribution facility where I received ass loads of free music. The money I made went elsewhere unless an artist’s music caused me to plunk down 18 bucks for a CD. Sometimes I had a choice… The new White Zombie or eating for a couple of days. Paying the cable bill or picking up the new Monster Magnet.

I usually went with the responsible route to keep my stomach from growling and paid my bills. The monthly allotment of Capitol releases kept me in music and raised a monster of a collection.

So why does the accusation bother me?

After spending yesterday’s last waking minutes thinking about it… I took it as an affront to my age. I took it as an attack on my sophistication and good tastes. It was a unfair criticism directed towards me with a hint of malice.

Oh well… Thanks for letting me exorcise that tiny little demon. I feel good enough to go online and purchase a KC & The Sunshine Band digital album from the Zune Marketplace. They were a great band that were more than their singles.

Screw you, Linkin Park and Korn!*

* Two 90’s bands I didn’t like very much. The singer for Linkin Park is more of a whiner (makes him able to hit the higher notes… Like Boyz II Men) than a singer and no one ever told Korn that rap/hard rock hybrids just don’t work.

Stickboy '...Sings My Songs'

2009-01-26T15:31:00.006-05:00

What was the strangest text message you ever received? Was it by someone you don’t know?

I got one last Thursday around 7:30pm. Here’s what it said…

“Hey its andrew are car got robbed”

My first thought was to correct the Andrew’s spelling, but I quietly let it pass. Andrew sent me another message a few minutes later that had a bunch of “FWD’s” in front of this…

“this is andrew our car got stolen make sure to lock your doors”

It seemed to me that this Andrew had my number in his phone. I don’t know any Andrews except one… My cousin Andy. And I know that he doesn’t have my number. Hell, he doesn’t even really keep in touch with the rest of his family.

A thought occurred to me… What if this Andrew calls me up in the middle of the night?

I decided to send Andrew a text back…

“Thank you for the warning and I’m sorry that your car was stolen. But I have no idea who you are.”

What do you think that joker did?

He called me.

I sent him straight to voicemail to give him a clue, but he called again. I didn’t answer and I haven’t heard anything from him since. Perhaps I should keep his number and give him “silence” as a ringer.

--As some of you may know, I’m a sucker for just about any 3D film. I saw My Bloody Valentine 3-D with Jamie on the Sunday of its opening weekend.

I’ve never seen the original (nor do I want to) and I’m still having problems understanding what a homicidal miner has to do with Valentine’s Day. The guy just goes berserk seemingly because some high school kids want to venture into the mines while consuming large amounts of alcohol. You know… One of those cautionary tells of some bad things happening to folks because they’re doing “bad” things.

The cinematography was too dark for all of the 3D effects to be truly stunning. Oh there were some cool things… Especially with the fully naked woman running around for five minutes or more, the pickaxe through the windshield, and the eyeball seemingly poking through the screen. But the movie substantiated my belief that underwater and horror films don’t make good 3D flicks.

My one sentence review on Netflix… “The 3D effects were the only things that gave this film any depth.” I gave it 2 out of 5 stars.

If you’re a fan of 3D movies, it’s worth a look. But if you want a story with decent acting, find something else.

Patti Rothberg 'Between The 1 And The 9'

2009-01-21T20:12:00.003-05:00

Are you sick and extremely drained hearing about Barack Obama?

He has finally taken the oath and given the keys to the White House. Hooray!

Can we frackin’ move on now?

Everyone is so happy and optimistic about the guy and yet they forget about the problems that aren’t going away because Mr. Smiles has taken the reigns. I personally cannot wait until the blind followers won over by words like “Change” and “Believe” finally open up their eyes and realize that President Dimples hasn’t changed our world one iota.

Please keep in mind that I didn’t vote Republican… I’m one of those “wackos” that believes in smaller government, personal responsibility, and the freedom that the Constitution guarantees for all people of this great land. I’m a Libertarian and I cannot help finding myself amused how easily brainwashed the masses can be.

I woke up this morning and turned on the television for a little news and weather. And they’re still talking about President Snookie-Lumps… It seems that President Obama took his first morning dump in the White House after breakfast. Reports confirm that the Presidential bowel movement was solid and measured 8 and 7/16 inches. And they even quoted The Road To Wellville by saying that Obama’s bowel movement had “no more odor than a hot biscuit”.

Oh well… We should enjoy the party until someone yells last call. But I’m thinking the hangover is going to feel like all the rest of them.

And what was the deal with Aretha Franklin’s hat?

It looked like something from a bad 80’s situation comedy. I couldn’t help but wonder why a legend like Franklin would allow someone to place such a garish monstrosity upon her head and send her out in front of millions of people. But then again, she’s old and those blind followers are happy enough to wear their loud Obama shirts that would label any Jeff Gordon shirt too dim.

And another thing… Am I the only one on the planet that thinks that our new First Lady looked a little chunky in that golden dress?

After reading this, I’m fearing that my overabundant heterosexuality fuel gauge may be getting a little less cozy with the “F” and moving towards the “E” side.

What’s gotten into me?

Feel free to leave your witty comments. But I’m not asking Christine to go off on some tirade.

Got it girl?

--Now to more important matters.

What the hell is going on with my Netflix?

I get disc one of season four of Wild Wild West as I’m finishing up another series. I mailed off two discs after finishing them over the weekend and one of them was the Wild Wild West disc. So I’m expecting to get more of the Wild Wild West, but what do I get?

Discs one and two from season four of Gilmore Girls!

Wild Wild West is listed as available, but they didn’t send it. Oh well… I just moved the folks from Stars Hollow up the queue and placed them in front of James West and Artemus Gordon. No biggie. These things happen.

I sent back discs two and three of Gilmore Girls on Tuesday and what do you think they’re sending me for tomorrow?

Discs one and two of The Untouchables Season 2 Volume 2.

What in the hell is Barack going to do about that?

Memphis 'Cheap Poems'

2009-01-13T16:01:00.005-05:00

All right. My truck has been inspected and I’ll be ready to renew my tags next month. I’m usually late about doing that too.

When the citizens of Guilford County only had one choice to get their tags renewed at Golden Gate shopping center, it was a Titanic pain in the ass. The line was usually out the door and onto the square sidewalk. The waits were long and patience was non-existent in the lines.

Once, I actually took a folding lawn chair and a magazine with me to make the wait in line more enjoyable. So every time the line moved forward, I could easily pull the chair along with me. It’s no fun to waste an hour on your feet during your day off, so that’s why I decided to make the best of it.

People in line thought it was a good idea. One older gent said that he wished he had brought his golf stool with him. But the folks behind the counter took it personally and usually made sure every T was crossed… Blah, blah, blah.

I wasn’t trying to make a statement about their service, because they couldn’t help being the only plate joint in town. I just did it because I didn’t like standing around in line for an excessive amount of time.

When they finally opened another joint in town over on West Market Street, it was great. The lines were usually short and still within the confines of the building. The wait generally took 5 minutes or less and I actually got my tags renewed on time because of it.

Over time, Guilford County has become a little more crowded and those waits can last up to 30 minutes with lines out the door at the West Market location. So getting my tags renewed has once again become a One Man Gang menace to my backside.

I just got the renewal form in the mail today and I’m toying around with the idea of forging ahead with the Internet renewal process. No waiting in lines. No wasting a good portion of an hour (yes, I’m aware that I have plenty of time on hand). And hopefully, it’ll all be Johnny Bench easy… No runs, no drips, no errors.

We shall see.

--Tonight is the beginning of “destroy someone’s life” television!

I’m talking about American Idol. Where they prop talented performers (and not so talented) up for the American public to ooh and ah over for ratings and revenue. And essentially, it’s just a steroid enhanced karaoke meat grinder for public consumption.

Kelly Clarkson has made her mark. Along with Carrie Underwood and Chris Daughtry (I’m predicting “sophomore slump” results on the next album because the material on the debut was weak at best and the public may wise up).

The others haven’t been so lucky with their 15 minutes of fame. Hell, I can’t even remember the name of the salt and peppered hair dude that won last year. The one that jerked around like a dancer with a debilitating muscle disease when he performed. His career fizzled out quickly along with the heavy black guy, the once closeted queen from Raleigh (like we didn’t know), and the not-so-pleasant to look at unwed mother from High Point.

They were ground up and used up. Chances are good that we’ll see them on the news or TMZ as they go down the “Dana Plato” path of destruction.

Oh sure… Everyone in America loves ‘em when they’re on TV, but as soon as cash money is expected for their recordings… Those jokers typically go down faster than baby seals in a Canadian village stocked with Louisville Sluggers.

So for you AI fans… Enjoy the carnage!

Richard Marx 'Paid Vacation'

2009-01-12T12:35:00.003-05:00

I’ve noticed that traffic to my blog has gone down like a five dollar crack whore. I know what the problem is… I haven’t been updating like I should. To be quite honest, I haven’t had anything to write about. Life has been quietly moving without the usual amount of crazy interruptions that are worth writing about. Those things that annoy the ever-loving intestinal parasites out of me just aren’t happening anymore.

I’ll be going to get my truck inspected today. It was due in November and for some reason I hate getting it done. Oh sure, I’ve got all the time in the world to get it done, but it just seems so unnecessary and I don‘t like throwing thirty bucks at it. So pointless in fact that a study group for the North Carolina DMV deemed the inspection process unnecessary.

The state government has also decided to screw and confuse its citizens further by tying inspections and license plates together.

So like any good procrastinator, I chose to wait until there was a definite outcome. I didn’t want to spend the dinero on something that could be cancelled. But the inspection process is still in effect and I’m confused about how the plates are tied to it. I have so many questions about things that won’t even affect me.

Anyways… I’ve got an appointment for 3 this afternoon. I’ll drop Roxy (my truck) off and hoof it on down to Spring Garden Bar & Grill for a couple of brews along with a Chicken on the Ranch sandwich.

My last visit there was during the holidays and I found out that they no longer carry croissants. So sad. Because grilled chicken, bacon, cheese, and Ranch dressing tastes so frackin’ good on a croissant.

I’ll chase it down with a couple of Yuenglings and play a round of NTN Trivia.

They have the loudest bartender in the world there at the Battleground location. I can’t remember her name, but it sounds as if there’s a bullhorn lodged in her throat. She has that kind of super-loud voice that you can pick out of the crowd on KISS ‘ALIVE II’.

When she’s speaking in a normal voice, she has that sexy Brenda Vacarro thing going on. But when she needs to step up a notch, she’ll rattle planes out of the sky. So I’m kind of hoping for a nice quiet sandwich time during my inspection.

--I’ve also been keeping track of Robby Gordon’s daily progress in the Dakar Rally.

They moved it this year to South America because of terrorist threats. Why terrorist would screw with it is beyond me. Oh sure, I can see the occasional farmer out there waving a stick at SUV’s, ATV’s, and motorcycles as they zip past their frightened goats that won’t produce milk for a month because of the race. But shooting racers and crew members to prove a political point just doesn’t make sense to me. Oh well.

As of this writing, Robby Gordon’s Monster Energy Drink/Jim Beam Hummer is fifth overall.

They started the race on January 4th and it won’t be over until the 18th. Crazy.

Thanks for checking back and don’t forget to bookmark this beotch for time wasting purposes. It’s the coolest!

Okay… Maybe not.

--I'm not posting a video from Richard Marx because I wasn't that much of a fan. As you can see, I got today's musical choice when I was working for Capitol Records and I've never played it. So I don't even know if I have a favorite yet. Wish me luck!

The Evoka Project 'December Drive'

2008-12-30T20:45:00.003-05:00

Very good guess, Wendy!

But that’s not the new “F” word.

Here’s how I found out about it… Some of the family were hanging around during the holidays. I wanted to show one of my nieces how some dumb crook was getting injured on some reality program on TruTV. It was the only thing on television at the time that wouldn’t send my family to the knife drawer to search out an item that goes “shing!” when you pull it out.

“Hey (insert niece’s name),” I said as I pointed at the television. “Watch what stupid thing this crook does!”

“We don’t use that word,” my sibling says to me in a very condescending way.

To be honest, it kind of pissed me off. How dare she correct me when she isn’t even in her own home?

If I were in her home I would abide by her rules and refrain from using such an offensive word. My sibling can choose not to use the new “F” word. That’s her decision.

Actually, it’s the new “S” word because the new bad word is “stupid”.

I felt like saying… “Okay. You don’t have to use the word. I, on the other hand, feel that the word is fine in every day conversation. No one is petitioning the FCC to have it wiped from the broadcast airwaves. No one is being thrown out of churches and stoned because of its use in the house of God. Just because she’s around, doesn’t mean that I’m going to refrain from using the word. Eventually, she’ll pick it up on the street when she starts listening to some dope rap music.”

I know that last line would have really shifted that stick positioned in her rectum sideways.

Instead… I asked, “Is crazy okay? How about obtuse? Dim? What about asinine?”

I told (insert niece’s name) that asinine sounds dirty, but it isn’t. It’s just another word for the one your mother doesn’t use or want you to use.

Someone tell me… When did the word stupid become such a horrible word?

My thought is this: If you keep a kid from using the word, they’ll just find a suitable substitute like dumb, crazy, or chokey. They may even make one up just so we don’t know what the heck they mean.

I don’t get it and I’m going to make a point of using the word stupid whenever I’m talking with (insert niece’s name).

Am I being stupid? Have I been using this word improperly by sticking the real “F” word plus an “i-n-g” in front of it?

Two really negative bad words can cancel each other out, you know. And that would be just stupid.

Here’s a cut from today’s musical choice from YouTube. There’s no posting of my favorite song, “Standby”. But this will give you an idea of what one of Winston-Salem’s best bands sounds like. Take some time to enjoy it.

Various Artists 'Encomium: A Tribute To Led Zeppelin'

2008-12-29T21:42:00.006-05:00

One of the best things (and I’m being sarcastic here) about Christmas is being able to spend lots of time with all your relatives in a house. To me, it’s like having my back massaged with a ‘78 Buick.

My parents have become the most painful part of the holiday season. They’re in the their mid-sixties and the ears aren’t working like they used to. It’s no fault of their own… They’re just getting old. But pride is at work and they refuse to see a hearing specialist because a hearing aid is the ultimate scarlet letter for those trendy folks over 60.

Oh sure, they can wear pants pulled up to their clavicles… Wear bedroom slippers to the Walgreen’s… Hearing aid?

You can forget it like Vanilla Ice’s ‘Cool As Ice’ soundtrack album!

So my trendy parents scream at each other like Howler monkeys armed with bullhorns. They haven’t gotten to the red-faced, vessel popping stage yet… But they’re close. Who knows… They may just skip that phase and rocket right to the multiple stabbing portion of the program.

They never say the other person’s name to gain their attention and then start speaking.

It’s kind of goes like this…

“mumble mumble unintelligible mumble,” says my father.

My mother sits and stares elsewhere with no acknowledgement until she feels the cold hard gaze coming from my father’s eyes. “Did you say something, dear?” she asks.

“I SAID,” my father rumbles. “BARACK OBAMA WANTS TO MAKE FOOD PASTE FROM ABORTIONS TO FEED THE HOMELESS!”

Her retort is just as loud and with their thirty-five seconds of dialogue you’re amongst the Constanzas from Seinfeld.

Oh, it’s good times indeed.

It got me to thinking… They need a way to communicate without shouting their vocal chords into a concrete wall like tornado tossed straw. They find it difficult to say the other person’s name to get their attention first, so why not make it a little more fun?

The Nerf Ball of Communication to the rescue!

Just toss it to the other person to get their attention. No one gets hurt, nothing gets broken with the smaller soft indoor ball, other county residents won’t be partied to the conversation, and it’s fun to throw at the other person.

I think it can work.

That’s a quick update for today. Thanks for checking in. Tomorrow I’ll try to tackle the new “F” word among uptight mothers. Any guesses as to what that word is?

Use the comments to make your guess.

I wanted to leave you with Duran Duran's version of "Thank You", but I didn't find a suitable YouTube vid... Here's my second favorite cut from today's musical choice by the creamy and delicious Sheryl Crow. Enjoy.

Concrete Blonde 'Still In Hollywood'

2008-12-25T12:14:00.002-05:00

If you didn’t know by reading my blog or listening to me on the radio… I’m a sick bastard. I find amusement with things that would cause the normal person to recoil or washout their eyes with lye soap. I’ll make sick jokes and then make apologies… Not for making the joke. An apology because I offended them. It’s not my fault if they don’t think it’s funny.

Possessing and using a sick sense of humor is not easy. Saying things without thinking of the repercussions that can follow seem easy on the outside, but it can be a lot of work. Many times, I get a lot of red-faced angry spittle landing on my wide and surprised eyeballs. It’s a lot of responsibility.

For example… Last night at our family Christmas gathering… Chloe unwrapped a toy lighted makeup kit that looked like a piece of old school luggage. It was pretty cool. It looked like a makeup road case from the Vaudevillian days.

“That’s cool!” I said. “You can pretend that you’re backstage at Christi’s Cabaret.”

This caused my uptight sister Pam’s sphincter to close with such great force that she had to hit me. I wanted to continue explaining to Chloe where the cool places to keep your razor blades for cutting up coke, but the boundary had been set with Pam’s backhand.

Side note here: Pam also fell for the Jenna Jameson nutcracker. She thought it was real and she KNEW that that sort of gift just wouldn’t go over well with our father… See how much fun having a sick sense of humor can be?

My sick sense of humor also sees things differently than most people… Lets take commercials for example…

Bladder problems are serious. Millions suffer with these problems. I even have family members that have some bladder issues.

I couldn’t help but point this one out…

The woman is at the doctor’s office for an appointment. I get the impression that she’s there for just a checkup. The air pressure will get checked and the white walls will get a swift kick. And if she’s particularly lucky (over the age of 40), she’ll get a quick inspection of the undercarriage and chassis. Checkups can be such invasive fun!

While sitting in the waiting room, her bladder decides to scream “LESSEN ME!” and she heads off to the loo. The woman icon falls off the door. She’s little, blue, decapitated, and wearing a skirt. The icon comes alive and grows to an acceptable height. The blue icon dispenses helpful information to the office visitor that fears a “trail of tears” more than walking and talking hallucinations. She calms the lady and explains that she shouldn’t be ashamed of her leaky pipes. In fact, she should tell her doctor about her overactive bladder through interpretative dance and be sure to mention that she’s getting advice from a women’s bathroom door icon. Because… Lets be honest here… Bladder problems could be the least of her problems.

Is this an acceptable form of advertising? Subtly making fun of the mentally ill that talk to hallucinations?

And where can I sign up for such a job?

Cheap Trick 'At Budakon: 30th Anniversary Edition'

2008-12-20T10:04:00.002-05:00

As I wrote yesterday, I am without my beloved DirecTV. My television sits silent for the majority of the day. I only turn that sexy joker on to watch a DVD or play my Zune MP3 player through it. I don’t have a docking station for it yet and my Vizio makes a very good sound system. The Zune connects easily with some RCA connecters.

I got to thinking about my DirecTV and how it affects my unemployed budget. Since NASCAR is out of season, there’s no real reason I need to subscribe to satellite service. Oh sure, there’s still plenty of first run shows… But guess what?

I can see them online and shift those funds to temporary liquid assets, if you get my drift. I also have movies and other shows available to view with my Netflix subscription.

Watching the new episodes online cuts the amount of time in front of the tube and the excessive exposure to commercials. Commercials are one of the reasons that I recorded just about everything to watch at a later time. You guessed it… So I can skip the 8 or 9 minutes of advertising during a half hour show. Double that for hour long shows.

Think about it… If I’m watching Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles (and I do every week) online… I’m basically seeing one and a quarter minutes to five minutes of advertising on the Fox website. Compare that to 17 to 18 minutes watching it on my local Fox affiliate. And (!) I’m saving money without my subscription to DirecTV.

But when February rolls back around, I’ll be getting my DirecTV back. I’ve got to have my NASCAR!

I start getting severe withdrawal symptoms in mid-January. It gets so bad sometimes that I’ll find myself sitting beside I-85 with a cooler full of beer looking for a 20 car pileup. And without Daytona testing in January next year to steady me up… I could be driving up and down I-85 looking to give someone a taste of my bumper for my fix.

Since I may not be working… I’ll have that extra time on my hands.

--While shopping this week with Christine, I picked up my musical choice of the day. I’ve been aching to get this mofo in my collection, but I had to wait until the right moment. I had a gift card and Best Buy had it on sale for half off. I gave in quicker than Eddie Murphy surrounded by transvestites.

The clip is from the DVD part of the collection. It’s great to finally see it so clear. I’ve seen bootlegs of the show that will give you an idea how glaucoma affects one’s eyes. It was like watching a concert through a steamed up window.

This Budakon collection is well worth the money at any price… But if you can find a deal like I got… Jump. Jump. Jump on it!

Here’s one of my favorite Cheap Trick songs from that DVD. Enjoy.

White Town 'Women In Technology'

2008-12-19T15:22:00.007-05:00

Have you finished your Christmas shopping yet?

I finished up my last bit of walking through the shopping land of wonder with people coming to a dead stop right in front of me just to look at a display of BOD, folks more prepared to stick a blade between a grandmother’s ribs to be first at the newly opened register, and the usual amount of a-holes not paying attention to what they’re doing or where they’re going.

Yes sports fans, I despise Christmas shopping. I despise driving anywhere near shopping centers during this time of year. I despise it all.

Why?

Because people don’t have their minds anywhere inside their thick skulls when it comes Christmastime. They become mechanical, cutthroat drones in an army dedicated to Madison Avenue and the corporations that it represents. Factions within factions will revolt against each other to acquire the last “Ejaculate On You” Elmo. Blood is spilled to grab the latest and limited Hannah Montana’s “Little Slut” make-up kits while the new Guns n’ Roses CD’s sit idly by unwanted and unloved (but I suppose that can be a positive thing).

This time of year really irritates me.

Folks invite me to church and to “Happy Birthday Jesus” parties. I end up spending more than I can afford on family (sadly, I cannot afford friends or the adults in the family this year due to my unemployment). And to top it all off, I have to get my truck inspected during this stressful, hateful time.

Everyone that I could afford to put on my list are now all taken care of. I owe my friend Christine a big thanks for helping me knock out the bulk of it. For some reason, she likes getting out there and shopping. She refuses to get help.

The coolest thing I found is for my father… I got him the Jenna Jameson nutcracker. He has no idea who she is, but he likes nuts as much as Ms. Jameson does.

The nutcracker looks just like Ms. Jameson and you lay it down on her back. Her legs automatically spread open so that you can place the nut in the wide and accommodating vagina. Then you clamp the legs together and the nut is cracked.

The box says that “Men and women will enjoy busting a nut with Jenna”… Whatever that means.

I may just have to go out for a half gallon of Egg Nog, a fifth of Jim Beam (btw… They’ve signed on again with Robby Gordon Motorsports… Yay!), and put on my vinyl copy of Liberace’s Christmas album to improve my holiday mood. I may even watch my favorite holiday movie… Die Hard.

--Why did I resist watching 30 Rock for so long?

The show is damn hilarious!

I’ve been catching up on seasons 1 and 2 at the Netflix website.

I’ll tell you more later about my viewing habits… Hint: I no longer have DirecTV.

Netflix friend callout… eugenebsims@yahoo.com

Toodles!

Tracy Thornton 'Been Caught Steelin': A Steelpan Tribute To Jane's Addiction'

2008-12-15T00:10:00.002-05:00

Over the weekend, I watched the second big screen attempt at making an interesting and exciting film about The Incredible Hulk. I will admit it… This second attempt is more exciting than the last one.

Ang Lee’s Hulk was so painfully boring, I pulled the plug on it after about 40 minutes. Louis Leterrier’s was way more interesting and action packed.

I remember reading my first Hulk comic book when I was about 7 or 8 years old… I just didn’t think he was all that exciting. Banner got angry, got big, powerful, turned into the Hulk, and threw stuff around like a maniac. Sure, Banner and Hulk were outsiders… Blah, blah, blah… But it just didn’t grab me. The Hulk just lacked the depth of Batman and Spider-Man. He always bored the heck out of me.

I watched the television series with Bill Bixby and Lou Ferrigno when it came on, but I wasn’t crazy about. Since I was a 11 year old kid with no mischief to get into on a Friday night, I simply watched The Incredible Hulk. With only 3 channels at the time, it sure beat the hell out of collecting my earwax to make a candle.

Hey! I was young and actually thought about it. Ye without stupid kid-thoughts feel free to cast that stone.

I remember the final scene where they closed the show every week by playing that soft gentle, hopeless music or as it’s commonly known as “the love theme”. That tune just has to be in the key of D minor, because as Nigel Tufnel of Spinal Tap once said… That key will instantly make you weep.

But what I remember fondly and best about the whole Incredible Hulk thing?

A retarded boy named “Nathan”.

For eighteen years of my life, I was forced to go to church every time the doors were open. There was choir practice just about every Sunday after the evening service. Since I didn’t care about singing in the choir, I hung out with the other “dragged” to church kids. We would often venture through a small vacant lot grown with weeds and littered with broken glass to spend our small allowance on candy and junk at the corner store. I stuck mostly with Brownie drinks and novelties like fake dog crap and ice cubed flies. We also made our own entertainment and mine was generally watching other kids run around like maniacs and their little arguments. And that’s where “Nathan” came in.

Try as he might, “Nathan” didn’t fit in with the other kids because they were too busy with their little cliques. He didn’t fit in with their BS.

“Nathan” wasn’t immune to the popularity of The Incredible Hulk television series. He loved it.

“Nathan” would try to play and run with the other kids, but being the type of little jerks that kids can be, he was shunned. That made him angry and hurt… And that’s when he would say Banner’s/Bixby’s famous quote, “Don’t make me angry. You won’t like me when I’m angry.”

The kids would all laugh and snicker at “Nathan”. Then he would “Hulk-out” like the scenes from the television show. He would snarl. He would look at his clenching and unclenching fists as if he was transforming into The Hulk. Then he would pretend to throw his ripped up shirt to the ground and then he started chasing the other kids.

They screamed wildly when they scattered to elude “Nathan The Hulk”. If he managed to corner one of them, he would simply roar and flex like the green Lou Ferrigno. But that was a rarity. He usually chased and ran around until he got tired. And when he got tired of the chase… He would find a spot to sit still and transform back into “Nathan”. While doing this, he would hum in a high pitch. With his voice, he recreated that sound and scene from the television show.

Here’s what I mean…

I never tired of watching The Incredible “Nathan” terrorize the younger and the “too good for Nathan” kids. It was quite a treat for a sick bastard like me and always entertaining. As a matter of fact, I started referring to him as “The Incredible Nathan” and we would often recap the episode from Friday night. “Nathan” usually had an interesting and different take about them.

--Today’s musical choice hasn’t been released yet and the artwork that I have may not be the final cover. For information on this fine Jane’s Addiction tribute album… Click here. Or you can just send an email to Tracy Thornton… Tracy@panrocks.com

It’s très cool!

King's X 'Dogman'

2008-12-12T14:15:00.003-05:00

If you haven’t noticed before, I have a Zune MP3 player. What my Zune and I are jamming to can be found at the bottom of this page. It shows how many plays, my favorite songs from favorite albums (usually the ones I just loaded up), and the top artist plays. It also shows how many badges I have earned by just by listening and playing tunes.

I love the damn thing!

And I’m obsessed with getting more and more plays with more and more badges for listening to artists and albums… How many times can I write “and” into a sentence?!

That’s how much I love my Zune.

Sadly, something has to be done with the encroaching space limit of 30GB’s. After adding next week’s daily listening pool today; I now have 8.81GB’s of space left. I have been thinking about what I can do about this and have experienced many of the different Excedrin headaches.

What will I take off? What will I leave on? Should I save all and swap out what I want whenever I want on the player? Should I purchase an external storage device just to house my Zune collection? Should I throw a rope over a beam, tip the chair away, and forget about it?

As crazy as it sounds, the thinking has caused me a few sleepless hours.

Then it hit me one morning when I woke up and it’s a decision that I can stick with. It embraces my love for total randomness.

When I get to 5GB’s of storage left on the Zune player, I will totally delete the first 7 albums I ripped (I can view the order when albums were added) before adding the new 7. If I will be adding an album that was just deleted… Well it’s just added back on.

In my mind, it will keep everything fresh like a flowing river. No standing water, so to speak. Both the player and program will constantly be updated. Everything should just cycle through, but some things may never make it back onto the Zune. Some things may never come off. But that’s okay. That’s the kind of random crap I like. I think it’s some kind of OCD.

Am I crazy or is this an accepted practice among MP3 users?

Since Microsoft released the 120GB Zune, there has been lust in my heart. I want more and more even though I have now 11 full days worth of music on my 30GB Zune… Meaning that if I turn on my Zune and leave it playing; that joker will play non-stop for 11 days before it completely runs down the entire play list.

It just makes me giggle even though I want MORE!

There may not be any hope for me, friends.

Ed Haynes 'Ed Haynes Sings Ed Haynes'

2008-12-09T14:32:00.003-05:00

I went to do some shopping last Friday. I was on the hunt and prowl for gifts at Best Buy in Winston-Salem for my nieces and nephews… And I was after a little something something for myself.

I came up empty-handed on both counts.

I didn’t have time to properly shop for my nieces and nephews because I was meeting friends at Buffalo Wild Wings for food, fluids (adult), and NTN Trivia (I placed 17th on Network Rankings one game). Disappointing? Yes, but I’ll get them something this week.

BUT!

The biggest disappointment… I wanted to purchase a gift from me to me… Cheap Trick’s 30th ‘Live At Budakon’ Anniversary box set.

I checked under Cheap Trick. Checked under all the C’s. Checked under Trick. Checked under all the T’s. I checked the DVD section. I checked the New Release section. I checked and tossed every stone in the building, including Trudy Hackenbaugh’s kidney stones near the Guitar Hero display. I gave up and decided on something else…

The long-awaited new album from Guns n’ Roses.

There were plenty on hand at Best Buy… The exclusive retailer for ‘Chinese Democracy’… The new Guns n’ Roses album. So I plunked down my $11.99 plus tax ($12.80 total) to have, possess, keep, and rip to my Zune.

After a couple of listening sessions (something I rarely do for more than a day), I’ve come to the conclusion that ‘Chinese Democracy’ is a good album. Not great, but good. Not Guns n’ Roses per se, but rather the Axl Parsons Project.

It’s big and blown up… ‘Chinese Democracy’ is more like a modern day ‘Bat Out Of Hell’ Jim Steinman production. There are many players upon this new GnR stage. Think of ‘Chinese Democracy’ as a complete album of “November Rains”… Big and grandiose. The once black and gritty soul of Guns n’ Roses has become an Axl Rose transcription therapy record.

The streets from where GnR spawned without repent presented us with, in my opinion, two great albums… ‘Appetite For Destruction’ and ‘Use Your Illusion I’. ‘Chinese Democracy’ still has the “no remorse” street policy in effect, but all the yelling is coming from Axl’s padded cell.

‘Chinese Democracy’ is a very good album, but I think the key is not to think of it as a Guns n’ Roses album. Again, feel free to think of ‘Chinese Democracy’ as an album from the Axl Parsons Project. Because… After all… That’s exactly what it is.

I can only recommend it if you have a strong and unhealthy respect for Axl Rose and the Gunner’s legacy. Otherwise, you’re going to get a rather nice crosspollination of Axl, Meat Loaf, and Nine Inch Nails.

The Doobie Brothers 'Toulouse Street'

2008-12-03T13:00:00.004-05:00

I promised last week to write a blog about my Black Friday experiences… But that fire in my belly has escaped like undercooked chicken.

To sum it up… The day after Thanksgiving was usually spent at my grandparents on my mother’s side. We would all dress warmly, arm ourselves with shotguns, and traipse around the very rural southeastern West Virginia countryside hunting for rabbits.

I was young and enjoyed this activity although I wouldn’t shoot anything. I didn’t mind tracking, watching the rabbits being cleaned, and eating them… But I disliked the idea of killing them. Like most of today’s population… I’ll eat meat without asking or caring how it got to my table. I try not to take the animal’s sacrifice for granted (the Native American in me), but I slip sometimes.

On one of these hunting expeditions, my Uncle Byrl was shot and peppered with shotgun pellets. I can’t remember who shot him, but I do remember him returning to the house with a big case of a lead measles outbreak… If you get my drift. He was all right and still traipsing around the areas surrounding King, NC.

That’s how I spent Black Friday until I was unfortunate enough to begin working for the man.

I started working in a grocery store and holidays meant extremely busy days filled with wall-to-wall angry people. When I moved my way over to retail sales at Peaches Music & Video… I was subjected to even more angry people with a vast amount of space between all the walls.

I witnessed physical altercations in the parking lot over parking spaces. Then that anger would waltz through our turnstile and into our aisles. I would get chewed out because John Denver’s ‘Rocky Mountain Christmas’ was out of print or that we were sold out of 120 count tape cases.

I also had to deal with the New Kids On The Block’s Christmas LP playing through the store constantly during their heydays. Even my former legible signature was forever changed with the repeated signing of Peaches Gift Certificates. Now my signature looks like something created with a Spirograph.

I dreaded the holidays. I was generally alone because the rest of my family and/or girlfriends were getting they party on with friends and family while I was working among the fuming Christmas shopping mobs. Don’t get me wrong, I loved the time alone. It gave me a generally undisturbed chance to decompress and relax before diving back into the madness.

For Thanksgiving, I would pick-up a Bill’s pepperoni pizza the night before and that was my turkey substitute. Christmas meant getting drunk and watching a movie if I were alone.

Although I’m not working in retail… I still dislike the holidays. The traffic is horrendous and the message of good tidings that everyone sings about with friends and family just aren’t radiating beyond them and spilling out onto the streets.

Call me a grinch… Call me whatever you will. I can’t wait for it all to be over.

Boston 'Boston'

2008-11-27T23:21:00.004-05:00

I lost that good ol’ Thanksgiving feeling back in the 1980’s. It was a combination of two things… Working in retail and Turner Broadcasting’s purchase of Jim Crockett Promotions.

Jim Crockett was one of the biggest professional wrestling promoters in the United States. He ran the National Wrestling Alliance in the southern Atlantic states and he had greater vision than the McMahons of the WWF (now the WWE).

When I was a little lad, my father (I’m sure it was against his wishes) took me to my first professional wrestling event on a Thanksgiving night at the Greensboro Coliseum. I was in the neighborhood of 7 and 10... I just can’t remember what year it was.

I started watching pro wrestling at a young age. My mother tried to discourage my interest by saying, “You know that stuff is fake.”

Since I knew Jeannie, Samantha, and Superman weren’t real people… My young mind accepted that most everything on television wasn’t real. My response to her, “Yeah, I know… It’s on TV.”

I loved the showmanship and spectacle of professional wrestling (that should explain my love affair with the rock band KISS). I loved the loud words and I loved the violence, real or not. So when I heard that Andre The Giant (The Eighth Wonder Of The World) was making an appearance on Thanksgiving night at the Greensboro Coliseum, I begged my parents to go. I wanted to personally see Andre wrestle against the heel Big John Studd. I wanted to personally see a man that stood over 7 feet tall and weighing close to 500 lbs.

But I got more than that… I got the show that takes place in the audience during the event. I was amazed that the audience took the show, the wrestling, so very seriously. I remember most the bloody Indian Strap match between Blackjack Mulligan and Wahoo McDaniels where falls counted anywhere in the building. They were tied together with a strap of leather and when they hit each other, you could hear the slap when it met flesh and mat. I remember catching Wahoo cut open his forehead with a gig (blade) on the sly. Blackjack was seemingly losing a lot of blood too, but I didn’t catch him juicing.

The action eventually left the ring and headed up the stairs. Kids and some adults followed. Dad and I sat there listening to the other fans guessing where the combatants would end up. They finally reappeared upstairs and battled on the railing. Wahoo seemed determined to throw Blackjack over the edge and the crowd anxiously screamed while I giggled like a Japanese schoolgirl. I knew it was a show and I was loving every single minute of it.

Wahoo finally closed the deal when they returned to the ring and kept his Indian Strap match record free from defeat.

The Andre match was a bit disappointing. He was too big and lumbered around the ring like a Redwood in a planter. Big props to Big John Studd for juicing so good that it turned his blonde hair red with blood.

I was at the very first wrestling televised pay-per-view called “Starrcade: A Flair For The Gold”. It took place in Greensboro on Thanksgiving. Ric Flair won the NWA World Title by defeating Harley Race in a steel cage. By today’s standard, the match would be considered a little boring. Flair won his first World Title that night and I was there.

And during that match, overzealous fans in the upper deck got into a huge fight. It was crazy! It took a handful of police to break that melee up.

Professional wrestling at the Greensboro Coliseum on Thanksgiving was an annual event. I went many, many times and I took it for granted. I went to every Starrcade until they moved it to The Omni in Atlanta when Turner bought out Jim Crockett Promotions.

It was “The Night Of The Skywalkers” and I hated missing it. I couldn’t even see it on PPV because our cable company couldn’t carry it. I missed The Road Warriors defeat The Midnight Express in a Scaffold match. The action took place on a scaffold high above the ring and you won by throwing your opponents off.

I would have loved to see that in person.

When Turner Broadcasting bought out Jim Crockett promotions, they took my favorite thing about Thanksgiving away. Throw in retail jobs where I had to work the day after Thanksgiving (Black Friday)… The holiday lost all of its appeal to me and I haven’t felt the same since.

I miss it. I long for it. I miss eating all day long, watching a little football, and heading out to the Coliseum to watch men in tights “settle” scores before a sellout crowd. I miss the smoky ambiance and the people that truly believed what they were seeing was as real as their electric bill.

I remember the time Jeff Baker, Jon Sullivan, and myself were witnessing a boring moment when Ric Flair had Greg “The Hammer” Valentine in the dreaded Figure-Four leg lock. The match time limit was 60 minutes and Flair had him in that thing forever. There was a point during that leg lock where the entire crowd had quieted down to the noise level of a funeral and some chick somewhere yelled out, “Break his leg, Ric!”

We laughed our asses off and that became a personal catch-phrase with the three of us. It seemed funny at the time. We were so amused that she thought it was all so real. We pictured her anxiously sitting on the edge of her seat hoping that Ric Flair would retain his World Title belt while the rest of us struggled to remain awake.

I remember attending an event with my Uncle Byrl, Aunt Sherry, Bake, Sullivan, and my father where the main event was a tag-team Steel Cage match. Sgt. Slaughter and Private Don Kermode (heels/bad guys) were defending their World Title straps against fan favorites (face/good guys) Ricky Steamboat and Jay Youngblood.

It was bloody and exciting… Until an old lady a couple of rows in front of us got so excited that she decided to urinate in her seat instead of going to the restroom. The police finally came to escort her wet ass out. It was kind of sad and yet it was funny.

The faces beat the heels and the entire Coliseum erupted with the loudest cheering I had ever heard… While me, Bake, and Sullivan sat there with sheer disappointment on our faces.

We always pulled for the heels because they’re were usually more interesting and funnier than the faces. They still are.

I remember seeing Blackjack Mulligan Jr. (Barry Windam) “win” a Cadillac by ending up as the last man in the ring to end an over-the-top rope Battle Royal match one Thanksgiving night. Windam could’ve been one of the greats, but never fully realized it for reasons unknown.

Now you know why I’m not thrilled about Thanksgiving anymore. Yeah, it’s cool getting together with family, eating, and hearing my nieces and nephews act up with each other… But Thanksgiving just isn’t the same anymore.

I find the holiday more depressing with every passing year. Fond memories of those nights spent with thousands of blood thirsty, drunken strangers with strange odors aren’t being made anymore.

Maybe I should get a dog.

Blue Sky Frequency 'and then she smiled...'

2008-11-25T09:57:00.008-05:00

I do stupid things. I do stupid things all the time. And believe it or not, I’m a smart guy. But a lot of times I just don’t think before doing stupid things. We’re all guilty of that… Aren’t we?

Lets take for example last Friday…

I was all geared up to play some Battletech later that night and I spent most of that morning trying to find anything about the Baja 1000. I couldn’t find any network that was covering the race so I decided to look around on the Internet. There were plenty of sites giving “constant” updates, but I would have gotten better service with carrier pigeons.

I could only find one update on Robby Gordon’s site. I don’t know how accurate it was, because it was taken down faster than Jack Bauer can save Toledo. The update said that Gordon broke a wheel hub and their race was cut short.

The only update now is dated November 19th and says everything is fine and dandy.

I still have no idea how my favorite driver did in the event. Oh well… If you can’t drink the water in Mexico, then I can’t expect timely news or updates.

Here’s a video taste of what Robby Gordon does when the NASCAR season is over and most drivers head out to vacation destinations.

--I gave up looking for updates around 1pm and started craving some coffee. The high temperature for the day was going to remain under 50, so I made a 10 cup pot of coffee and planned on watching some movies on the DVR.

I have a rule about coffee… I love coffee, but I don’t want to become addicted to it like my grandparents who drink it from wakey-wakey to nighty-night. They drink the stuff 18 hours a day in all kinds of weather. Even during heat waves! So I don’t drink it unless the high temperature of the day will be below 50 degrees Fahrenheit.

Making the coffee and drinking it was not a good idea.

I drank the whole pot and got majorly wired. I didn’t eat breakfast or lunch and every muscle in my body felt like there was a Norelco shaver buzzing around inside it. If that’s the way speed makes someone feel, I cannot see the appeal of amphetamines. I didn’t like it one bit.

I got angry quickly and most everything seemed to aggravate me. I couldn’t even sit still. When I was walking around house… I was moving from room to room like Ahmet Zappa jamming with John Tesh.

I ate lunch and that still didn’t take the edge off, so I ate a second helping. Still no good.

I stopped by BoJangle’s on the way to Sean’s to get another meal in my system. I was hungry and felt like throwing more food into the bloodstream would kill off the caffeine.

Nope. Wrong. I was still an insufferable prick. I was snapping at Sean and my Battletech teammates. But the coffee managed to keep my mind sharp until 3am or so… We started the only round we played at 6pm Friday and wrapped it up around 4am Saturday.

Drinking a pot of coffee is something that I don’t think I will ever do again… Unless it’s decaffeinated.

Here are some of the latest Battletech pictures. The poker chips represent rubble from destroyed mechs. We're starting to lose a few here and there because Jonathan and Justin have finally realized that you have to get hit to hit. They play with "retreat" always in their minds.

We'll be playing again on Friday AND I'll be making an update on Turkey Day! I'll be bored and I've got something brewing about Black Friday.

Have a Happy and safe Thanksgiving!

W.A.S.P. 'The Headless Children'

2008-11-20T12:38:00.003-05:00

So I finally got online this morning to check emails and check The Onion for the latest news when a Doors tune started playing on my Zune.

I’ve never been much of a Doors man. I’ve just never cared for them. I never thought Jim Morrison was a genius. When I received my famous Rolling Stone magazine with Morrison on the cover (“He’s Hot, He’s Sexy, He’s Dead”)… I had to read the article to find out who he was (Please keep in mind that I was 13 or so when that issue came out). I wasn’t impressed, so I never fully developed a sense of importance when it came to The Doors.

I only went to see The Doors movie in theaters because it was from one of my favorite film directors, Oliver Stone. Although I liked the film the first time around… During another viewing, I couldn’t find any reason as to why I liked it. I will proudly say that The Doors is one of the worst films ever made. I can clearly understand why the bio-pic spun its development wheels for years before being made. It was crap.

So anyways… I sat down at the computer turned up the volume to hear what my Zune program was playing and it was “Love Hides”.

This particular version comes from The Doors CD ‘Live From Pittsburgh 1970’. It was one of those promos that went from one Rock 92 remote to another. No one ever wanted it for a prize. It was a little dinged up, so I took it out of the rotation and gave it a warm home in my collection. It’s in with all my other cherished and loved CD’s. And from what you’re reading, it’s resides on my Zune.

This live version of “Love Hides” starts immediately with Jim Morrison’s vocals. Being a stickler for interesting lyrics, I couldn’t help busting a gut laughing during the first verse…

“Love hides in the strangest places
Love hides in familiar faces
Love hides in narrow corners
Love hides in molecular structures…”

What?! Molecular structures?!

I looked up the lyrics and it seems that Mr. Morrison was so F’ed up that he got the lyrics wrong on that particular night in Pittsburgh, but my ears were working properly. I did in fact hear another truly stupid lyric from Jim Morrison.

I remember an old girlfriend that really got into “Riders On The Storm”. She thought the song had some of the deepest poetry to ever caress the FM airwaves. She really dug the part…

“There’s a killer on the road
His brain is squirming like a toad…”

For some reason, she thought that metaphor was dead on. “His brain is squirming like a toad… His BRAIN is SQUIRMING like a TOAD!” she yelled at me during that argument.

“When have you ever seen a toad squirm?” I asked. “They jump. Worms squirm. Morrison was a Dr. Suess lyricist! Anything that rhymes works! He was no genius!”

I’ve really tried to find something redeeming about The Doors. It’s just not there for me. Sure… They had some great songs. Maybe they knocked down some barriers. But I just don’t and perhaps never will, get them.

--I have some more pictures from the HUGE Battletech game going on at Casa De Whitley. I’ve had a few people express their feelings about the game. Those few say that I should keep posting the pictures along with the brief recap of the events.

Of course these people are the ones taking part in the game.

I don’t really think that Too Dangerous For Daylight readers care about it. So I’m leaving it up to you… Vote “yea” or “nay” in the comments.

Keep in mind... If you'd like to play or check it out sometime... Give me a holler.

Various Artists 'Various Sh*t Volume 7'

2008-11-17T16:26:00.006-05:00

If you’re checking back and looking for an update… Well you’re in luck.

Welcome to my update!

I’m glad that you haven’t written me off and have decided to check in on me.

It’s true that I haven’t really had anything exciting to write about in the last few months since joining the large ranks of the unemployed, but I do my best to find the weirder moments in life to share with you. Truth is… If you’re not out and about every day, you tend to miss those odd moments.

And last week, I spent most of my days preparing for Geekfest 2008!

What am I talking about?

The largest Battletech game that I’ve ever been involved with!

Sean Whitley and I played a large game about 6 years ago after I lost a full-time job and a fiancée. We did this with a 4’x 8’ piece of particle board, ten Battletech maps, and my bottle of Smirnoff Vanilla Vodka. We unloaded almost every mech we had in our arsenal for our geeky endeavor. There had to be about 200 mechs in play and it took about 3 months to finish the game. We started the game at 10 in the morning and played until midnight on the first day. That’s when I finally started to feel the effects of the Smirnoff and passed out on Sean’s couch.

Over the 3 month period, Sean triumphed easily over me and my bad rolls. I say that because my tactics are sound, but when the fire rounds and piloting rolls are determined by a pair of dice I get mainly low (bad) rolls. That means I have difficulty in hitting the targets and my mechs fall because of the low rolls. Falling mechs sustain damage and are left prone for the enemy to come in like the LAPD to pound them without mercy.

The new game started last Friday night and I had a limited amount of days to get my mechs painted and ready for game play. So that’s why I didn’t take the time for an update last week. I was too busy gluing, priming, and painting my mechs.

Sean and I headed up the two teams. Sean had his sister Mandy and I had Jonathan along with Mandy’s boyfriend Justin.

We started about 7pm and got in 4 rounds before we called it a night at 2:30 Saturday morning.

We didn’t take a head count on the mechs, but we estimate just over 300 of them are on the table. So this game could take months to play without taking Sean’s retail schedule (Christmas time’s a comin’) into consideration.

I got my digital camera out for this and here are the pictures we took. The first one is from my team’s side of the table. We have all of our mechs lined up and ready for action while Mandy (pictured on the left) decided her placement.

The next picture is after 2 rounds of play and as you can see, we’ve all started to meet in the middle to exchange fire, punches, and kicks (all determined by dice rolls). At this point, the faster mechs have met in the center and the jump capable mechs on our side have started to find the high ground surrounded by a moat.

This picture is after the third round from Sean’s end of the table. Sean and Mandy have left the high ground to join in the melee in the center.

Here’s another shot from Sean’s end of the table. If you look close enough at the top, you can see me giving Jonathan (who took that picture) a message.

This picture shows a “kill”. My Raven mech was slaughtered and the blue poker chip represents the rubble left behind. If you go over the rubble, you will have to make a piloting roll to remain upright and on your feet. To the left of that poker chip, you can see my Fireball (yellow mech) standing in a large stream between the two lakes. I blew the piloting roll to get out of the stream and fell. It was quickly blown up while my Dart (the red mech lying down next to it) fell trying to get through the stream.

I’m telling ya… I have no luck when it comes to navigating waterways… I seem to blow it almost every time. I had to roll a 5 or better on two six-siders and managed to screw the pooch with 2 out of 3 mechs crossing the water. Much laughter follows every time one of my mechs fall in the water.

This last picture shows a mech’s eye view of the playing field.

We may get in another round tomorrow and/or Wednesday, but most definitely we’re going for it on Friday night again.

So there you have it. The reason I was so quiet updating last week. I will continue to take some pictures to share with you, but I won’t bore you with the details. Chances are good that our team will lose because Sean took the lowest battle point values for each mech. Loosely translated: He will have many more than we will and he should crush us.

Win or lose, it’s fun as hell!

Chicago Symphony-Fritz Reiner 'Rossini - Overtures'

2008-11-07T09:46:00.004-05:00

Thank any and all deities around the globe, the election is over. No more breaks during Jeopardy or reruns of Everyone Loves Raymond filled with backbiting political commercials. Oh sure, they make for a good drinking game, but we’d all be in Rat Pack Heaven along with John Bonham, Bon Scott, and Keith Whitley sipping on spirits if we played in any such contest. It was just too much.

Am I surprised by the election outcome?

Nah.

Do I really care?

Nah.

Although I am amazed that everyone happy with the Presidential election outcome seems to think that we all have swallowed a magical pill. They seem to think that the time-released active ingredient will kick in about mid-January and every problem will be solved, dogs will talk, and everyone will be able to bend steel.

I tend to stay away from political ramblings because there’s enough of that out there already. I’ll admit that my blog doesn’t really have anything that “matters” within its bowels. It’s because there’s enough of that kind of crap out there. I would rather write about losing a silly football bet with Beaverhausen where I had to walk around all day Tuesday with “Go Steelers” written across my forehead after my Redskins lost on the night before than spit out my opinions on politics… Or homelessness… Or health care… Or whatever.

Here’s a picture of me fulfilling my bet with Beaverhausen the past Tuesday…

Another great thing about the Presidential election being over?

Obama supporters can now shut the F up and get ready for the finger-pointing in their direction. The economy is screwed up and the ones that screwed the pooch want us, the taxpayers, to bail them out. Wall Street, car manufacturers, and home lenders are jumping on a wagon where the shock absorbers are you and me. We’ll see just how long Barack can ride his white horse into town before someone has to put that beast out of its misery.

Obama Win Causes Obsessive Supporters To Realize How Empty Their Lives Are

--Who likes porn?

Nailing Your Wife | Girls | SPIKE.com

--I’m out for the weekend, kids. I’m visiting a club that I’ve been curious about for years… The Country Corral in King, NC.

I’ve been imagining a place like the redneck bar in The Blues Brothers movie. I know there’s a mechanical bull and I’m expecting chicken wire in front of the band. We shall see.

I’ve been told to pack a pocketknife, but I think breaking a bottle on the edge of a table for a quick shank will look much cooler.

I’ll try to snap some interesting pictures for you.

Have a great weekend!

The Rolling Stones 'Goats Head Soup'

2008-11-05T10:56:00.002-05:00

My love affair with the television show Heroes is over.

I was watching last week’s episode and I found myself confused. I just didn’t care about what was happening. They’ve added too many new characters with various subplots going on in the present and future. I’m just not “geek-boy” enough to keep up with it all. Too many characters were getting superpowers. Too many characters were getting new superpowers. Superpowers were being revealed by old characters. Too much going back and forth in time. I was losing interest with every new episode.

The first season was great. We all wanted them to save the cheerleader and the World. Season two was getting bogged down with time travel and by what I like to refer to as “extra-unnecessary-crap”. The whole storyline with Hiro and the samurai bored me to tears, but I managed to finish season two.

During this current season, I found myself not caring about watching the show when I was watching it. I would find myself playing Hexic on my Zune or cleaning between my toes when it was on. So last week, I pulled the plug. Heroes is off my viewing list.

I felt like I needed a chart to keep up with what was going on. Who has the time for that?

I may be unemployed, but I have rules about how I waste my time when it comes to entertainment.

--The Shield is really going out with a bang! The last couple of episodes have put me on the edge of my seat. Everything is going FUBAR and its causing me to giggle like a Japanese school girl. I am SO digging the final season!

I came on late during the second season and have been hooked ever since.

I didn’t watch the first season because FOX was heralding it as the grittiest and best cop show ever during NASCAR races. They didn’t just plug it every so often… They plugged the show during the races and there was a promo for every commercial break. I got so tired of seeing the commercials that I avoided the show on sheer principal.

--Here’s a daily breakdown of my viewing habits:

Monday: Chuck, Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles (which I watch online because of the conflict with Chuck), and My Own Worst Enemy.

I’ve heard about critics panning My Own Worst Enemy, but I’m digging it.

Tuesday: The Shield

Wednesday: I watch nothing.

Thursday: My Name Is Earl (started painfully slow this season), Supernatural (gets better and better all the time), The Office (watch online because of the conflict with Supernatural).

I tried two episodes of Kath and Kim, but I kept finding myself picking lint out of my navel during the show. I dropped it.

Friday, Saturday, and Sunday have nothing to offer to me. But if I have nothing else to watch, it’s the best reality show of all time… Cops.

Tell us about your viewing habits by leaving a comment. I’m interested to see how many of you watch reality shows religiously.

Ratt 'Reach For The Sky'

2008-11-02T22:53:00.003-05:00

I did something last week that I haven’t done in at least a dozen years… I changed the oil in my truck. Seinfeld was cranking out new episodes and Buddy Ebsen was still alive the last time I changed the oil in my vehicle.

Technically… I didn’t do the hard work. But I did get my hands dirty and I dislike soiling hands.

Roxy (my truck) was overdue for an oil change and I thought I would save money by doing it myself. Times are tough, I’m unemployed, and money is a tighter than Neil Peart’s snare drum.

I don’t know why Fords have a tendency of really sucking onto an oil filter. I have never been able to twist off an old filter from a Ford’s engine.

I once had an Escort EXP and those filters sucked on so tight that I once had to drive a long screwdriver through the darn thing to twist it off. It was a messy affair that would make any murder scene look like Felix Unger’s kitchen.

You can hand-tighten a filter on a Ford, but that bastard will cling to the engine like Ted Kennedy holds onto a bottle when it comes time to change it.

I tried twisting that joker off Roxy’s engine and it wasn’t budging. My father decided that a “man” should do it. He crawled under, grunted a lot, shook the entire vehicle trying to twist the filter off, and got a busted knuckle for his efforts.

We couldn’t use the old screwdriver through the filter trick because of the tricky placement designed by the evil geniuses at Ford to keep mechanics in business. I came up with the idea of using a C-clamp, but there was no room to get that mofo in there. So we ended up going to a parts store to purchase some kind of filter-wrench.

I don’t like going to any auto parts store anymore. The last time I went to this particular place to purchase 2 quarts of motor oil; I stood in line for 20 minutes before sitting them on the counter, cutting loose an expletive, and walking out. I later picked up those 2 quarts at a convenience store in 2 minutes and 40 cents cheaper.

Lesson learned.

We tested the fit with a filter like mine before leaving. It was a perfect match. Purchasing the filter-wrench took only 13 minutes. There were only 2 guys working the counter and 6 customers. Three of us had what we needed and were ready to check out, but we had to wait our turn. Flies go through a full lifecycle when it comes to waiting your turn at an auto parts store.

I miss the old days when Western Auto was in business. There were employees working the floor to help if you needed it and when it was time to checkout… There were checkout lines. I would be in and out of Western Auto with oil and a filter in single digit minutes.

Those wonderful days are long gone and now we’re all prisoners to waiting until someone is freed up from a customer.

I wiggled back under my truck with the filter-wrench and the necessary tools to take care of business. Since I don’t know how most tools actually work, my father once again took over. He knows how sockets and extenders work. I was having problems and getting my hands even dirtier. I just let him take over because I know that deep down inside he feels that I’m just a damsel in distress when it comes to things mechanical.

He’s right and I’m okay with that. I gave it my best shot and felt cool giving in after 3 rounds. I poured in the new oil and replaced the cap so my man card wouldn’t be revoked.

The whole thing ended up costing me $19 and two hours. I ended up saving $8, but I lost an hour and fifteen minutes.

And to top it all off… The filter-wrench fit my old filter fine, fit one at the store just fine, but it doesn’t fit the new one that we put on. It looks as if I’ll be purchasing another filter-wrench in the near future.

So you can see why mechanical things tend to frustrate me to an Empire State Building’s height.

Pink Floyd 'Echoes: The Best Of Pink Floyd'

2008-10-30T11:48:00.003-04:00

I’ve never really been into Halloween. I’ve always loved horror movies and monsters, but I have never gotten a kick out of dressing up and parading around. I’m also not a big fan of holidays where every Jacques off in the world ventures into my domain, gets hammered, loud, and downright annoying. In other words, I’m not a big fan of “amateur nights”.

I’m planning on attending a Halloween party tomorrow night with my friend Christine. I’m not sure what to expect, but I know that I’m not going to dress up for it. I’ll just tell people that I’m dressed as a spy (I’ve been wearing the spy costume for years). A spy’s job is to blend in and look like everyone else. Looking like Batman or Dorothy with stubble would attract attention.

Let me take you back to the last time I got dressed up for Halloween…

My girlfriend, Brad K., my sister, and various others were visiting a friend that lived in Friendly Hills (apartment complex). She was having a Halloween party and we were all pouring booze down our throats like Otis Campbell on Earth Day.

I spent an hour or so painting my girlfriend up like Paul Stanley. It wasn’t a dead-on costume, but she came to me last minute and I worked with what I had. As I recall, it turned out really good.

Brad K. had the most inventive costume… He wore a blazer with elbow patches and taped a bandage over his left ear. Around his neck, he wore a cardboard sign that read “Paintings for Sale - Impressionists need not bother” along with a collection of credit card logos pasted at the bottom. A cask of wine prop provided the final touch. Brad K. was Van Gogh.

I put my costume together at the last minute too. I had a favorite old shirt that just got ripped. I had a helluva an idea… I ripped up the shirt, affixed a plastic knife to the back, bloodied up the shirt and myself with fake blood, and went as Leno LaBianca. He was a victim of the Manson Family.

The party started getting a little intense when the hostess’ boyfriend started getting his amateur drunk on. He was getting belligerent and confrontational, so we left. It didn’t help that he was the jealous type and believed that every guy in their apartment wanted to bang his girlfriend.

It didn’t take us long to find the next party. The nearby frat house that was across the street from the Spring Garden Brewpub (no longer there - it’s where the back parking lot of Chick-fil-a is now) had a house and yard full of costumed party goers. We just walked in and crashed that joker. Since everyone was all pretty much drunk, we blended right in.

I ran into Charlie Manson there and we exchanged pleasantries. And there was another member of KISS in attendance. Gene Simmons was in the yard!

Everyone sort of went their separate ways, but a little later into the evening… Brad K. came up to me and said, “I think Gene is putting the moves on Paul.”

I looked over and saw something that no KISS fan ever wanted to see… Gene Simmons kissing Paul Stanley!

It was a hideous sight! Not because my girlfriend was being accosted by some joker and she wasn’t fighting it, but because it looked like two members of my favorite rock band KISS had gotten to first base and were rounding second.

I went over to them, tapped on her shoulder, and told her that it was time to “Move On” (a song from Paul Stanley’s 1978 solo album).

“I’m sorry, Eugene! I’m so sorry!” she said as she stumbled around like a toddler on NyQuil.

I told her that everything was okay. I knew she was drunk and I also added that I would get a chance to make out with her friend once she passed out. Making out with her friend would make everything fine. I also thanked her for burning an image into my mind that will remain with me to the grave.

We left the party in the wee hours and my girlfriend wanted something to eat. The only place open at that hour was the Krispy-Kreme on Battleground so we stopped there. We grabbed doughnuts and soft drinks to go, but nothing was sobering up my in-again and out-again girlfriend as we drove around.

It was time to take her home, carry her inside, and face the wrath of her my girlfriend’s sister.

I parked the car, walked around to the other side so I could pull my girlfriend out, and what do you think happened next?

That’s right! Her friend stopped me and the next thing I knew, her tongue was down my throat and tickling my spleen.

I remember my girlfriend rising up from her prone position in the back seat and saying, “Hey… What’s going on?”

“I’m getting even with your Gene Simmons session that happened earlier,” I said calmly as I tried to make out with her busted and then reluctant friend some more.

My girlfriend said “Oh” and laid back down again.

That was my cue to drag her inside and call it night.

She didn’t remember too many things from that night which was fine with me. And I never saw her friend again.

So there you have it. The last Halloween where I dressed up and probably the weirdest Halloween that I ever had.

Orange Nichole "Orange Nichole"

2008-10-28T00:11:00.001-04:00

Over the weekend, I got to play Rock Band for the first time. I must say that I enjoyed it far better than Guitar Hero.

Since I play bass guitar (not so much these days), I chose to go with bass. I can’t remember the first song we attempted, but damn if I didn’t score 96% on the expert level. And that was after downing a small bottle of Jim Beam, a few Buttery Nipple shots, and some Bud Light.

I didn’t even KNOW that I was playing on the expert level! I think the spirit of Bon Scott was hovering nearby watching and longing for a taste.

The second song we attempted was KISS’ “Detroit Rock City”. I got 89% with that one on the expert level. Yeah… I went in a little too confident and a little more liquored up, because I know that song inside and out.

Rock Band’s game play was more like playing a real bass guitar for me than playing git-fiddle on Guitar Hero. The game play actually reacted with what the bass guitar was doing in the song. Guitar Hero Aerosmith had me playing notes that were being provided by the piano in “Dream On”. Guitar Hero seems to follow the melody instead of what’s actually being played on the guitar. Rock Band seems to make more musical sense to me.

I will still play Guitar Hero. I’ve got a saved game with my “band” Ass Play.

I wish I had thought of that name years ago. Ass Play.

I’ve got band names for two levels of play. Ass Play leads off the easy level while Jacques Off is reserved for the medium level. I still haven’t come up with any decent names for the hard and expert levels.

What kind of names are you using?

That is if you’re into Guitar Hero. Please share by leaving a comment.

Here are a few names that have popped into my head…

Cat Punch
Tin Ear
Butt Stake
Crotch Rockit

--My musical choice of the day has proven to be good. I’m not sure where I got it, but I think it was something that was overlooked at a WQFS promo pull. The sticker proclaimed a cover of Blondie’s “Heart Of Glass” and that’s why I probably grabbed it. I’ve had the thing for at least 6 years before I ever played it.

From what I gather, Orange Nichole is (or was) a woman in mid to late 50’s with a stranger than usual guitar. The songs are odd and highly enjoyable. It’s not for everyone. There are plenty of “WTF” moments to be found for those of you not quite as twisted as me.

Nirvana 'In Utero'

2008-10-24T11:38:00.002-04:00

I went to see Peter Frampton last Tuesday evening down in High Point during the Furniture Market (I’m sorry that I missed ya, Clay Howard). I was looking forward to it, but was sadly disappointed with Mr. Frampton’s performance.

What’s up with Frampton and KC? Why are they turning into an oldies act?

Oh sure, they could be considered antiques in the musical landscape sense of things… But why are they doing covers of hit songs by other artists?

Frampton too has a bunch of hit songs that he didn’t perform the other night and it was a slight disappointment for me. He was also very chatty between songs. I felt like running up to the stage yelling, “Shut up and play, tea sucker!”

Oh well… It was free, it got me out of the house, and I got to spend time with friends that I don’t get to see often enough. It was great seeing Louie, Lonnie, Mark, Chip, Susan, Dale, and Megan. I got to meet some new friends like Wanda, Ralph, and Debbie.

--After Frampton, I met Jeff Baker and Jon Sullivan at Jimmy’s Pizza on Main Street.

Jeff runs the place and you can usually find him in the kitchen with some wild tunes dancing in the air along with the wonderful smells. Drop by sometime, grab a pie, and say “hello” to Jeff.

Jimmy’s Pizza was closed and free of customers when I got there. Just before we left to go to Bake’s house, there was a gathering of Brother Bacon (Police) that appeared to be a mini-parade. Blue lights were flashing and lighting up the blinds inside Jimmy’s Pizza.

While Baker did his usual closing duties, Jon and I went outside to see what was going on.

As far as I could tell… The cops were writing up a Lexus with New York plates. There was a van pulled over on the side street with two other police cruisers.

The writing cop was chatting and scribbling with a white male, mid-fifties, dressed in a business suit. And since I was feeling good hanging with friends, I shouted, “That’s it! Write him up! I see how it is! Always giving a brother a ticket! You just can’t be WHITE in High Point!”

Jon immediately felt uncomfortable as the police officer looked at us. Jon was pacing a little, looking for something to hide behind. “That’s good, Eugene. Get his attention so he’ll follow us home.”

An ambulance arrived along with two fire trucks, but we didn’t stick around long enough to see what all the ruckus was about. There were barley pops to drink at Bake’s and some catching up to do.

It was great seeing them and we promised not to let so much time go by without doing it again.

--I voted early yesterday. The line wasn’t as short as I had hoped, but it didn’t take too long for me to cast my ballot. The whole process took about 25 minutes.

I managed to write myself in for a couple of things. So who knows? I may have a job come January.

And since I’ve started voting every time there’s an election… This was the first time that I can remember where I had the choice to vote a straight Libertarian ticket. That shaved a few minutes off the process.

You know what I think would make voting fun and increase the number of voters?

Tailgating.

I wish I had thought of it earlier.

Just make it party. Get with friends, fill coolers with non-alcoholic beer (you can’t be boozing where voting takes place unless you’re “cool” about it), some meat for grilling, and some lawn chairs.

Doesn’t that sound like fun?

It would be just like attending a sporting event. But instead of people walking around in Washington Redskins or Robby Gordon t-shirts, folks would be getting they party on with Barr, McCain, and Obama shirts. Overzealous guys would be making out with Palin posters. Heated but friendly arguments would break out about politics and policies.

It would be great until we run out of mustard.

Motorhead 'Anthology'

2008-10-21T11:13:00.007-04:00

I’m a little groggy from last night. I drank a few beers and didn’t go to bed until late. The Furniture Market is happening in High Point and it can be a party, my friends.

Just to clarify; I drank the beer during the KC & The Sunshine Band’s performance, but the staying up late occurred at my home in front of a television. I wasn’t getting my party on with various out-of-towners from around the world and I wasn’t the main attraction in a cougar filled hotel room (sadly). I spent the late hours of my day watching Chuck recorded earlier that evening.

I was highly disappointed with KC & The Sunshine Band. They came on like a bad act three streets away from the main strip in Vegas. There were scantily clad dancers wedged into “Daisy Dukes” (not that I minded at all) and only one original member of the Sunshine Band.

What disappointed me the most were the lack of KC hits in the cover heavy set.

Yeah! The man has an arm length list of hits and he’s doing covers. No “Shotgun Shuffle”. No “Queen Of Clubs”. No “Lets Go Rock and Roll”. No “Wrap Your Arms Around Me”. And NO “Keep It Comin’ Love”!

It was like the time David Cassidy portrayed Boone Vincent on Malcolm In The Middle. It was a very sad experience for me as a fan of KC & The Sunshine Band to see them perform like a bad Vegas act.

KC admitted that he was 57 years old and I wasn’t surprised. His voice still packed a punch, but he was sweating like a frozen steak left out to thaw. The Guy was sweating through his shirts so bad that he was allowing the audience to know about his “wife beater” undergarments.

The night wasn’t a loss at all. I met up with some old friends and cohorts from my days at Capitol Records. Louie, Lonnie, and Susan. Louie is on the left and Susan took the other pictures. My cell phone just didn’t take good pictures from where we were standing.

While waiting to empty my bladder… I ran into Will Bastard. The guy is all over the place! He amazes me. I just never know where to expect him to show up.

Tonight may be a different story… Peter Frampton is performing tonight. The same Capitol Crew will be there and afterwards, I’ll be getting up with some friends that I don’t see a whole lot. My good friend Jeff Baker (Jimmy’s Pizza in High Point-drop in and say hello) and maybe Tracy Thornton along with Jon Sullivan, Ricky Johnson, and a list of who knows. Should be a good time indeed.

Here’s a YouTube video from today’s musical choice… Enjoy.

Leatherwolf 'Street Ready'

2008-10-19T22:55:00.008-04:00

I must admit. Not working has made me a bit lazy about updating this here blog o’ mine. My day just isn’t filled with crazy stuff to throw out there for all to read. There’s not a whole lot happening in my life to entertain the readership… A-hem.

Grain of salt folks.

Are you really sick and tired of all the political ads on television?

I’m sure you are.

Because I see John McCain so much these days, my eyes have been opened to a crazy resemblance. To me… McCain looks like Casper The Friendly Ghost.

McCain is ghastly white. He doesn’t appear to be all that tall and he seems friendly enough. After all, he spent some time in a POW camp and has managed to come out without going on a killing spree.

And like I have pointed out before… Obama’s posters scare me. They remind me of postage stamps from Third World dictatorships. The only thing missing is a military hat atop Barack’s head.

--I am seriously, SERIOUSLY, obsessed with increasing my Zune play numbers. I let the player run constantly on the computer to increase the play count. I’m obsessed with the stats on the top artist plays… Robert Plant leads the pack and there’s a neck and neck race with Baltimore bad boys Kix against Greensboro’s own Benj-O-Matic.

For some reason, my Zune really has an engorged member for some Fats Domino. I loaded up Fats’ box set and it never fails to play a handful of his tunes. And I must admit, Fats Domino is pretty bitchin’!

To increase my numbers, I listened to my Zune during the NASCAR race and Washington Redskins game while the player on the PC kept racking up numbers. Yeah, the Zune player itself counts its amount of plays.

As Stimpy has been quoted as saying… “Joy o’ joy!”

I finally earned two Zune badges. That’s two more than I ever earned or wanted to during my short time in the Cub Scouts. At least with my Zune, I don’t have to take part in any camping activity or humanitarian effort. The Zune is truly a wonderful device!

You can check out what I’ve been listening to at the very bottom of this page or on my MySpace page. Feel free to keep checks on my sickness. Your pity is gladly accepted.

And if you have a Zune… Join me.

That’s about all for this update… Through my network of liars and backstabbers (that’s a Jeff Kayism), I’ve managed to get into a couple of the High Point Furniture Market’s concerts coming up in the next few days.

Monday night it’s KC & The Sunshine Band!

Then it’s Peter Frampton on Tuesday night!

Let Heaven and nature sing!

Gary Hoey 'Monster Surf'

2008-10-15T18:57:00.003-04:00

I had the pleasure of spending some time with my nephews Colton and Preston today. Colton was sick and Preston claimed that he didn’t get any sleep last night, so they conned my sister into letting them lay out of school.

They brought over their Pokemon books and I had to lay into them about that.

Personally, I don’t care for Pokemon and I have never been impressed by the games or cartoons.

When the afternoon rolled around, Preston went online to play something online called Adventure Quest. I checked it out and told them that if they liked that… They would surely dig some D&D.

They were intrigued.

I also whet their appetite on Battle Tech.

It looks as if they’re going to play sometime with my buddy Sean overseeing everything. Sean loves playing the game and he’s a walking rule book of information. I like it, but to be quite honest, I’m not that much into it. I’m not the fan boy like Sean. I don’t have a good handle on all the rules that could easily fill a California State phone directory. The television is way more interesting to stare at than any of the Tech manuals.

I don’t know why I feel compelled to wipe Pokemon out of their tiny heads… Could it be a waste of time and money? Could it be because it’s stupid?

I just feel like it’s better that they play something that has some staying power the older you get. Something that I don’t feel like they’ll ever outgrow.

I’ve been playing Battle Tech for close to 20 years now. Sure, it’s a little on the geeky side… But it sure is fun as hell!

Battle Tech is like 2 hobbies in one.

First of all, you have to assemble the mechs on hexes, prime them, and then paint them.

We have one steadfast rule: You can’t play an unpainted mech or one without a hex base.

I’ve been fairly artistic with my Mechs… I’ve got one painted like Gene Simmons during the Music From The Elder period.

I’ve got a pink panther. And there’s the various patterns of camouflage represented. I’ve used dry-brushing techniques and ink washes to make them look battle worn. The only thing that I haven’t done is incorporate sand and faux grasses on the hex bases.

Jonathan and Sean have a few good looking lances with those types of hex bases.

Just talking about it with my nephews has me wanting to break out the 20 or some Mechs in storage and get to painting them. Since I’m out of work… Why the hell not?

--Since I haven’t said so in a very long time… The title of each blog is my musical choice of the day. And this Gary Hoey CD is rockin’!

Fastway 'Bad Bad Girls'

2008-10-10T10:21:00.004-04:00

Jeff Kay wrote about his reluctance to accept and enjoy new technologies recently on his “blog” The West Virginia Surf Report. I also suffer from this type of techno-procrastination.

This techno-procrastination didn’t fully develop until I reached my 30’s. That’s when I started thinking that money wasn’t just printed up and put into my pockets for spending on stuff that I didn’t really need. I started weighing the real pros and cons on acquiring stuff.

I don’t buy up DVD’s like I once did with VHS tapes. I got burned once buying into a format that was replaced with a better one… It won’t happen again. I have to absolutely love a DVD or DVD set to purchase it these days. If I stand and think about losing a loved one’s life to a heartless thug or losing a season collection of one of my favorite television shows… If it takes a while to think about… Well, then I know it is something I must buy.

It took me some time to purchase a DVD player. My first one was a gift from my parents. I’m sure the thing must have set them back about $200 at the time. I purchased another one a year later that was something like $60. The wait or techno-procrastination is always easier on my pockets.

For years, I didn’t see the need for an MP3 player. Right now, I can’t see myself without one.

As a matter of fact, I keep swooning over the latest 120 gigabyte version released. I see it in the Sunday paper inserts from the box chains and I start to salivate. I fantasize about all that glorious storage and carrying around my CD collection on something that’s about the size of a pack of Benson & Hedges Ultra-Lights.

Those Zune people keep pulling me deeper… I’m in their “Social” now. I’m obsessed with what their new update has done for me.

When a song plays by a major artist, I get a slide show of that artist along with how many times that song has been played in the Zune network. It’s sort of Orwellian, but I don’t care. Those bitches have seduced me good and I just leave it playing.

So far, the lowest amount of plays that I’ve seen belongs to Black Sabbath’s “N.I.B.” with 12 plays.

I’ve got a half-dozen friends assigned to me. I don’t know how I got them or who they are.

It also keeps up with how many song plays I have. I feel like I’m in direct competition with my unknown Zune friends. I keep my Zune running all the time to boost my numbers.

I may need an intervention folks.

If you have a Zune and wanna “socialize”, look me up… Cultradio.

I also added this to my MySpace page… Check it out.

How it keeps up with my “habits” I will never know. But I’m digging it, baby.

Kelly Clarkson 'My December'

2008-10-07T10:29:00.004-04:00

I know that some of you were concerned about my abilities to play Guitar Hero and I’m here to tell you… You have no reason to be concerned anymore. I have finally gotten the hang of it. I’m still floundering on the easy level, but I’m able to make it through a whole song. I actually feel… Deep down inside… That I do indeed rock.

I desperately needed that validation.

I can now walk down the game aisle at Target with my head held high. I can finally play Guitar Hero without the all pre-teen snickering going on behind me. I’ve even put away the propane torch that I would chase giggling kids with.

Ladies and gentlemen, I am a new man. A new man capable of playing a video game where the control is a miniature Gibson Les Paul.

Silly?

Yes, but I don’t care. I feel like part of the herd. I feel like I belong.

By the way, I’m talking about the Aerosmith version of Guitar Hero and here’s an odd thing about the game… I’ve been playing along with Cheap Trick’s “Dream Police” because I know that song inside and out. You would think that I’d have the highest score, wouldn’t you?

After all, Cheap Trick is my second all-time favorite band and the song is bitchin’… But my score is only good enough to place me third. I’ve been playing it over and over, but I can’t break through my own barrier. The biggest problem is that since I know how to play the song on guitar, my hands keep wanting to go where the power chords are on the neck. It totally throws off my game.

It makes me wonder if there’s anyone out there giving Guitar Hero lessons.

--I have recently made a change with my Netflix habit.

Watching the films just haven’t been moving me like before. So instead of having 3 movies out at a time with 2 television shows, I now have 2 movies out with 3 TV shows.

I just haven’t been feeling the magic with the movies. I often find myself disappointed with a film. I’ve even put off watching a movie because the description just doesn’t move me… Take for instance the film In The Land Of Elah.

It’s a decent flick with Tommy Lee Jones, Susan Sarandon, and Charlize Theron. It moved a little too slow for me. After about 35 minutes I was on the phone sending a text message.

But recently, I found an Australian romance flick for anyone that doesn’t like the genre… Danny Deckchair.

Deckchair kept my attention the whole time. It’s light, funny, and even good for snickering pre-teens. I gave it 4 out of 5 stars and I highly recommend the movie.

Right now, I’ve got the television show Sports Night sitting on my entertainment system. I’ve heard nothing but good things about it.

I will let you know. Here’s the Netflix friend call out: eugenebsims@yahoo.com

Kirstin Candy 'Another Sweet Mess' Advance CD

2008-10-03T10:07:00.002-04:00

A couple of weeks ago, one hundred high-up college dudes banded together trying to lower the drinking age. They say in order to control all the binge drinking on campus that can lead to alcohol poisoning… The drinking age should be lowered to 18. If alcohol is readily available then it’s not so enticing.

I can see both sides of this argument.

Pro-lower: You’re held legally responsible for any contracts verbal or written. You’re tried as an adult. You can join the military service and lose your life. Basically, the law sees you as a full-on adult. Anything you want to do without breaking laws or harming others… Do it. You’re an adult now. But you can’t purchase, possess, or consume alcohol.

Here’s my Pro-21 argument: I don’t think today’s kids can handle booze. Most of the 18 year olds that I meet these days aren’t exactly the poster young adults for maturity. They’re the time-out generation where the consequences are merely a few minutes of quiet reflection until released. No lessons learned from such soft tactics. And in a lot of cases, parents often blame video games and television for the actions of their children. No one wants to take responsibility because it must be someone else’s fault.

I used to be all for lowering the legal drinking age and over time, I have changed my stance. I now think that it’s a bad idea.

The only folks that I would allow drinking at 18 are those serving the in the military.

You got a military ID? Belly up to the bar, ladies and gentlemen.

Here’s another reason against lowering the legal drinking age… The latest PSA directed at young voters. Take a moment to look at it.

Do you see what’s going on with this PSA?

They’re using reverse psychology on young adults. The same kind of tactics that parents and grandparents employ on toddlers.

“Fine. Don’t eat your carrots… No. Don’t eat those carrots… Don’t you eat those carrots…”

You get the point.

The Beatles 'Yellow Submarine'

2008-09-30T16:12:00.005-04:00

Okay… I’ve taken the time to read a website about understanding blood pressure, a manual from a BP machine, and heard an explanation from a licensed physician… And folks, I gotta tell ya… I still don’t get it.

I’ve never understood that crap.

Back when I was an honor roll student at Northwest Guilford Junior High (I don’t like “middle school”), Mrs. Daniels taught the rest of the 8th grade college prep Biology class how to take and read blood pressure. She had the diagrams on the “green” board along with an explanation with added diagrams in our text books. I tried to understand, but never got the concept.

So when the physician told me what my BP was last Friday… I said, “I don’t know what that means. Twenty-four seven, three sixty-five I get. But what you just told me makes no sense to me.”

When he said “a little high”… That I understood and panic quickly set in to ratchet up my BP a few more degrees, points, pounds, or whatever.

Back to NWJH: After Mrs. Daniels’ mysterious and detailed instructions about taking blood pressure readings, she had the students go up before the whole class to give each other readings two at a time. IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE CLASS!

Everyone was acing what I didn’t understand at all.

My turn finally came up and I had to check a cute girl’s BP. I pumped up the sleeve per Mrs. Daniels instructions and was told to read the dial (there were no digital readers then) while she checked the pulse with a stethoscope. She told me what the cute girl’s pulse was and from there I could use a mathematical formula to come up with her BP. Since I was as clueless as a toddler in a jet’s cockpit, I used the only tool I had to bail me out of an embarrassing moment… A smartass answer meant for laughter.

I said, “7-11.”

Mrs. Daniels wasn’t impressed or amused like my classmates with my answer. She had me take another stab at it and I just made something up… I said something like 122 over 87 and then I was told to see her after class.

She actually took the time to re-explain it all to me several times during that week, but I never understood. And when BP questions showed up on the quiz and further tests… That crap torpedoed my boat every time.

So you see why I’m having trouble with what seems to be very, very unsettling news to me, don’t you?

I’m like a 4 year old that’s in bed, anxious, and unnerved with every shadow and sound made by the BP Boogey Man. It may not be a “monster” at all, but since I don’t understand it… My BP readings are now like a hungry T. Rex in my underpants. And I don’t like it.

Why couldn’t they let someone like Fahrenheit or Celsius come up with a number chart that we can all understand?

Dr. Granny on The Beverly Hillbillies used a jerry-rigged thermometer and bicycle pump to get readings on Uncle Jed, Ellie Mae, and Jethro. That’s easy to understand.

You can’t use Kelvin’s scale… I didn’t understand that crazy-assed mofo either.

100 degrees Fahrenheit means hot or high. 0 degrees Celsius means cold or low. 170 over 88 has me blinking with a confused look on my face. I just made that up and I don’t know if those numbers are good or bad.

Oh well… Check out this startling news.

B-52's 'Cosmic Thing'

2008-09-29T12:20:00.003-04:00

I got some good news and bad news last Friday from a licensed medical doctor…

The good news… I don’t have melanoma. The growth and skin discoloration is the result of a wart. Yes… A wart. I felt kind of stupid, but I guess it’s good to be cautious when it comes to things that rhyme with lancer.

The bad news… For the first time in my life, my blood pressure was high.

HIGH!

WTF?!

I’ve always prided myself on having a BP just two ticks over being dead. My blood pressure has ALWAYS been low and in some cases over the years, being almost too low.

The doctor said that it could be from stress and I would have to agree with that assessment. I was concerned about the big “C”, a little ticked off with the front office staff because I sat around for 30 minutes waiting for them to get their butts into gear, and since I’m basically unemployed… I have no income. So I think that it’s safe to say that I’m a little stressed.

Am I going to take any chances?

Hell no!

I’m making some changes, baby. As much as life sucks sometimes, I really like walking around above ground instead of making cameo appearances in men and baby movies.

As much as I hate to, I’m going to have to say “toodles” to red meat. I’ve always enjoyed a slice of hot dead cow, but for me to remain in this earthly realm it’s “bye-bye Bessie”.

When I turned 40... I changed a lot of my eating habits. Since I made it alive and relatively healthy to that point, I felt it necessary to make some changes. I had abused my body enough and it was time for some payback. But the diet change stuck like a Post-It in a hurricane. I went back to my old ways in less than 2 years. Those damn Sirens of the fryer kept singing and calling; causing me to crash my ship upon their crusty and delicious deep fried rocks. Those damn bitches know I’m weak.

There’s just something about hearing about a “problem” that makes one get their ass into gear about getting healthier. And when you start talking about the ticker and the goop that it pumps… Well ladies and gentlemen, the change starts now.

The world is now a bland and tasteless lump of healthy. My diet is now the official equivalent of Pat Boone. The only thing missing is the white belt… Because it came from a cow.

Justin Timberlake 'Futuresex / Lovesounds'

2008-09-23T22:17:00.004-04:00

I got a big surprise today. My new glasses were ready for me to pickup in less than 24 hours. I wasn’t expecting them until Friday.

As I write this update, my glasses are on their maiden voyage and riding proudly on my face.

I have to get used to them because the lenses sit a little further away from my eyes than my other pair of glasses. It feels like I’m staring through two aquariums while I’m walking around the house. I’m a little more cautious. I feel like I’m going to bump into something.

Then I made a trip to the pharmacy to unload the rest of the money in my flex account, but I’m still carrying about thirteen bucks in that joker. I’m sure something will need to be purchased before the end of the month.

--I’ve been watching Six Feet Under from Netflix. After watching three seasons of the show, I think I’m going to cut it loose.

Six Feet Under started good, but over time it has become way too much of a soap opera. It was smart and funny, but now it’s all about the characters whining and complaining. If they’re not doing that… They’re fighting with each other. There’s just WAY too much conflict among the characters in season three and I grew tired of it.

I must admit… After watching the season three ender, I had to think about whether to carry on with the show or not. Once I read the Netflix customer reviews, I felt like I did the right thing keeping it off my queue.

Six Feet Under gave me an "OMG" moment there at the end of season three, but not because of what happened on the show. Claire was visiting her father's grave that will also be the place where her mother will eventually spend eternity. The moment came when I noticed that the mother's birthday on the headstone was the same as mine.

Cool, huh?

Now I moved onto season one of Dexter. That show is excellent. Excellent, that is if you can handle watching the life of a “white hat” serial killer.

Dexter is smart and engaging, but not for the squeamish. There are lots of dismemberments and other forms of gore. My only complaint is Erik King’s portrayal of Sgt. James Doakes. He’s just an A-hole without a cause and he just rubs me the wrong way. He’s always barking at the other characters and perpetually pissed off for some unknown reason.

Will it stop me from watching this fantastic show?

Absolutely not!

--Now to something else I love… NASCAR racing!

How about Kyle “The Shrub” Busch?

The guy was at the top of the points race from April until September when the “Chase for the Cup” began. It seems that one of his crew members forgot to tighten a link on the sway bar before the first Chase race. The sway bar is one of the things that controls the way the car handles. It was a bad race for him and I enjoyed every moment of it. Every time the camera singled out his ill-handling car, I was jumping around and giggling like a Japanese school girl. I took great pleasure in watching him struggle to keep the car from going ass-first into the wall.

Things like that are rare, but instead of talking to the race reporters after the conclusion of the event… The Shrub skirted out the side of the hauler and went to his motor home for a good cry.

I don’t know… I can understand his frustration and disappointment after such a bad finish, but I thought that he should have “manned up” and told the viewers that he’d get ‘em next week. It could have eased the guilt among his crew and the disappointment among his fans.

But what can you expect out of an class A jerk like The Shrub?

To add to my enjoyment… Guess what happened to The Shrub last week at Dover?

He blew an engine.

And the immature little A-hole basically did the same thing. He went crying to his motor home. He also said that his hopes for winning the Cup are over.

Excellent words of encouragement for his crew.

Mathematically… The Shrub still has a shot at winning the Cup. But if the crybaby wants to give up with 8 more races to go… I’m seriously cool with that.