Have you ever felt like you are living in some sort of “Groundhog Day” world, where things keep repeating over and over again? I have begun to feel like I’m just doing the same shit day in and day out. It’s as if I’m just running in a giant hamster wheel. I need to change something. I’m not sure what yet, but I’m sure I’ll yell something like “Gadzooks” or “Eureka” once I’ve figured it out.
I spent most of yesterday recovering from the side effects of Novocain. I hate that shit. It makes me so woozy. (The upside is, the root canal is finally finished. They filled the tooth…) the last time I had Novocain; I fell down a flight of stairs afterwards. (I think the worst part is seeing the ground rush up to meet you in slow motion…) Happily I didn’t feel it, at least until later, and then for my troubles, I received quite the bruise.
My jaw still hurts. I swear I’ve hurt less after a fistfight than after a trip to the dentist. I’m starting to think that in the event of my most likely “untimely” demise, perhaps professionals in the dental industry should be questioned first.
I tend to think of dentists as being supremely confident people. You’d have to be. Given that your job is to inflict pain on everyone who walks through the door, and still manage to carry on with pleasant small talk. I’m not sure I’d be able to do that. Mind you, I guess that would depend on if I liked the person or not…
But I digress…
I had what you might call a happy accident yesterday. I ran into Freddy and Rob Hawkes. I wound up having lunch with them. It was a nice surprise. I got to hear about their adventures at the Montreal Festival. Rob met one of my comedic hero’s, Eddie Izzard. I have to admit, I was more than a little jealous when I heard that. I can’t wait till I go to the festival. I’m really hoping that I can get it sorted for the near (ish) future. (It’s a fair amount of work to get there, so keep your fingers crossed, and I’ll get stabbing away at it.)
I think we may have decided to start writing together. That has all the hallmarks of being a really good thing. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a good writing group. It’s amazing how much more quickly you can bring things to the stage when you have some people you can bounce stuff off of. It becomes a little easier to refine jokes and separate the gold from the cannon fodder. I’ve tried writing with some of the newer guys, but they still have their comedy water wings on, and I find it less productive. (Although this just may be a perception issue on my part.)
I guess once you’ve found a groove, it’s hard to get comfortable elsewhere. Brett, Pete, Shane and myself all started at roughly the same time. We had each other, and despite our occasional bickering, we got funny together. It was always easy to write with those guys. We understood each other, and knew the mechanics of everyone’s act. Since we’ve all been scattered to the winds, it’s been hard to strike up a new group.
I think that Freddy and Rob will be a good fit. We have been around each other for years, and I know I’m comfortable enough to work with them. More importantly I like them as people, and that always helps.
Perhaps it boils down to this. I feel like the “middle child” in the comedy scene. This may partially be accounted for by the absence of my immediate peer group. Additionally, The guys who came before me, while still good friends, have their own things going on, and the guys who came after me are still at a level where self-indulgence is the principal writing motivation.
I feel like there’s an avalanche about to happen. I have scores of new ideas that I’ve been farting around with. It will be nice to iron them out, and retire some older material. This business should be about the constant evolution of material, (which is not often the case… And I’m as guilty as the next comic…)
Anyway, enough for now…
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
07/26/05 Ketchup Sammichs
I had this very funny dream last night. President Bush was sitting in the oval office, wearing a black leather jacket, and pretending to be the “Fonz.” (I have thought for some time that he kind of looks like a Fonzie… A Fonzie in serious need of a good poop, but a Fonzie nonetheless…) Then he got messed up on meth amphetamines and started calling Condi Rice his favourite “Negro.” Condi got all flushed, they started making out, and then it got more graphic from there. Laura Bush came in dressed in a “Springer & Hannity in 08” t-shirt. She was holding a big plate of home made cookies. She wasn’t shocked by her husband’s behaviour. In fact she just started to laugh and then said “Oh George…”
Now… I have strange dreams all the time. Usually though, I’m on safari, or scoring the winning overtime goal for the Flames, or doing something incredible. Never do I dream about this kind of psychobabble nonsense. I must have eaten something odd last night. I wish I were kidding around about this dream. It actually bothered me. (Mind you, I suspect that any dream where President Bush is a principle character would be bothersome to most.)
I have been trying to ignore American politics in this for the past little while. (With the exception of the last post… But Rove just pissed me off.) Lately I seem to be drawn to it again. I guess I’m just bored and the magnetic pull of that circus of chaos is too much for me to resist. In my mind I compare it to the magnetic pull of Woolco. (In a time before Wal-Mart sullied the Canadian landscape.)
To explain, when I was a teenager, and started hanging out at the mall, (The Avalon Mall in St. John’s) one of the anchor stores was Woolco. It didn’t seem to matter where you started in the mall, sooner or later you’d inexplicably wind up in the centre of Woolco, usually with a confused look on your face. The only thought being “How the fuck did I get here…” Then you’d go the “Red Grill” for a plate of fries and gravy. There would be a few other people that got caught in the whirling retailer vortex, scratching their heads and trying to enjoy some sort of greasy treat.
That must be it. American politics is like a greasy treat. It’s fast, easily accessible, and really, really bad for you. It makes perfect sense. To take it one step further, it is just as unsatisfying in the long run.
I visited Micah Wright’s website yesterday. For those of you who don’t know who he is, Micah is an artist, and has been running the “Propaganda Remix Project.” He takes Second World War and Cold War posters, and puts a new spin on them for the time that we live in. He has a good sense of humour and has used his conscience to make a statement. Anyway, he posts the hate mail that he gets, and some of it is really awful.
You’ll really be floored by the level of ignorance that these people spew. He regularly gets called things like a communist, a traitor, a faggot, and the list goes on and on. The usual “Archie Bunker” slobs bark at him with barbs like “Love it or leave it…” etc. It’s sad that they don’t realize it takes more conviction to stand up and question things than it does to piss on someone.
It’s sad that people can’t get past their own prejudices. We all have them, and I am no exception. For instance, I would be inclined to call the people that emailed Micah “hillbillies”, still others would get the label “dullards and rednecks”, then there are a few that could be stacked into the “Ketchup sammich eating trailer park trash” pile. But then again, I have no problem with the double standard, and I have no problem stooping to their level. I’m willing to fight fire with fire. I’m more than willing to get my hands dirty. Someone has to.
Liberals (and don’t get confused with a “party” here…) have been demonized and for some reason fail to strike back. Some might use the “Why stoop to that level?” argument. I think that’s bullshit. When you’re running for your life, seldom should you stop and be polite, or take the high road. There is absolutely no time for it.
It appears I’m off on a rant again…
Check out Micah's website...
www.micahwright.com
Perhaps leave him a nice message.
Now… I have strange dreams all the time. Usually though, I’m on safari, or scoring the winning overtime goal for the Flames, or doing something incredible. Never do I dream about this kind of psychobabble nonsense. I must have eaten something odd last night. I wish I were kidding around about this dream. It actually bothered me. (Mind you, I suspect that any dream where President Bush is a principle character would be bothersome to most.)
I have been trying to ignore American politics in this for the past little while. (With the exception of the last post… But Rove just pissed me off.) Lately I seem to be drawn to it again. I guess I’m just bored and the magnetic pull of that circus of chaos is too much for me to resist. In my mind I compare it to the magnetic pull of Woolco. (In a time before Wal-Mart sullied the Canadian landscape.)
To explain, when I was a teenager, and started hanging out at the mall, (The Avalon Mall in St. John’s) one of the anchor stores was Woolco. It didn’t seem to matter where you started in the mall, sooner or later you’d inexplicably wind up in the centre of Woolco, usually with a confused look on your face. The only thought being “How the fuck did I get here…” Then you’d go the “Red Grill” for a plate of fries and gravy. There would be a few other people that got caught in the whirling retailer vortex, scratching their heads and trying to enjoy some sort of greasy treat.
That must be it. American politics is like a greasy treat. It’s fast, easily accessible, and really, really bad for you. It makes perfect sense. To take it one step further, it is just as unsatisfying in the long run.
I visited Micah Wright’s website yesterday. For those of you who don’t know who he is, Micah is an artist, and has been running the “Propaganda Remix Project.” He takes Second World War and Cold War posters, and puts a new spin on them for the time that we live in. He has a good sense of humour and has used his conscience to make a statement. Anyway, he posts the hate mail that he gets, and some of it is really awful.
You’ll really be floored by the level of ignorance that these people spew. He regularly gets called things like a communist, a traitor, a faggot, and the list goes on and on. The usual “Archie Bunker” slobs bark at him with barbs like “Love it or leave it…” etc. It’s sad that they don’t realize it takes more conviction to stand up and question things than it does to piss on someone.
It’s sad that people can’t get past their own prejudices. We all have them, and I am no exception. For instance, I would be inclined to call the people that emailed Micah “hillbillies”, still others would get the label “dullards and rednecks”, then there are a few that could be stacked into the “Ketchup sammich eating trailer park trash” pile. But then again, I have no problem with the double standard, and I have no problem stooping to their level. I’m willing to fight fire with fire. I’m more than willing to get my hands dirty. Someone has to.
Liberals (and don’t get confused with a “party” here…) have been demonized and for some reason fail to strike back. Some might use the “Why stoop to that level?” argument. I think that’s bullshit. When you’re running for your life, seldom should you stop and be polite, or take the high road. There is absolutely no time for it.
It appears I’m off on a rant again…
Check out Micah's website...
www.micahwright.com
Perhaps leave him a nice message.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
07/24/05 Karl Rove is a F**ker...
I haven't posted for a few days. It's been nothing but pure laziness on my part, although I have been taking some time to do other things. I have a couple of books on the go (The new Harry Potter book, and the Solzhenitsyn one…), and I needed to take care of some things. (Like going to the dentist and getting some new clothes… ones that don't make me look like I've got a flappy ass.)
I needed some me time. Apparently I needed a lot of me time. In addition to kicking my tires and having some work done, I've been getting some much-wanted sleep. Happily the hallucinations caused by exhaustion have stopped.
Anyway… I've been kicking around some thoughts on the whole “Karl Rove must be punished” thing. For those of you people that live under a rock, and for some strange reason, don't know who he is, Rove is the key ingredient in Bush the lesser's successes.
Some say he's a demon, a villain, a zealot, and more astutely, the apex of power in the United States. All of which are sadly true. He's also best described as the Josef Goebbles of the present age, and like the afore mentioned Nazi, his ability to craft lies and half truths into something Neo Cons spout as gospel is uncanny.
The game for him is to defame and render democrats and other liberals useless. (Mind you, it was a pretty easy job these days… Especially when Howard Dean is the only pony in the stable…) so far he has succeeded with remarkable prowess. It almost makes Hitler's swath through Poland look childishly, clumsy and downright ham fisted.
Rove was rewarded for his efforts, and is now the deputy white house chief of staff, and a senior advisor to the President. (By advisor, I mean handler. Without Rove, Bush would still be a minor leaguer in politics…)
Oddly in a Physical sense, he's not that impressive. He's pudgy, with thinning hair and cheesy glasses. He has the look of a community college professor, and has a smirk on his face like he's been banging the hottest 20 year old in his class. (Gender non-specific…) You would never in a million years get the idea that he “runs” the presidency.
More importantly, he's the spin-doctor that put any remaining semblance of American democracy on life support. And you just know he's eyeing that plug, sizing it up, so when it's least expected he'll tug it out of the socket. This is a man who is willing to use every dirty trick and mistruth to get his desired result. He is everything that rots the core out from under the “New World.”
But I digress; Karl has done a bad thing. He leaked the name of a CIA operative to the media. That's a big “no no.” In fact it's been a legal taboo since the Reagan era. He did it as a way to punish her family, because her husband, who is a retired ambassador, discovered that Iraq was not in fact purchasing “Yellow Cake” uranium and he foolishly let the world know the truth. Not only was it wrong, but also it proves that Rove is a bit of a vindictive cocksucker.
What kind of a man goes out of his way to deliberately endanger someone to prove a point? The answer can only be “An EVIL one.”
Worse still, after promising the media that whoever was responsible for the leaked information would no longer work for the white house, Bush recanted when Rove admitted it was him. Bush should no longer have any shred of credibility left. The longer Rove stays, the longer Bush will suffer in the polls. (Not that it matters much…)
Not since Nixon has America has such a dishonest government. With times being what they are, (which is an awful lot like the Vietnam era…) It really surprises me that there aren't people in the streets, and mass riots over this.
Anyway now I'm just ranting… and I need to sleep.
More later…
End of Transmission
I needed some me time. Apparently I needed a lot of me time. In addition to kicking my tires and having some work done, I've been getting some much-wanted sleep. Happily the hallucinations caused by exhaustion have stopped.
Anyway… I've been kicking around some thoughts on the whole “Karl Rove must be punished” thing. For those of you people that live under a rock, and for some strange reason, don't know who he is, Rove is the key ingredient in Bush the lesser's successes.
Some say he's a demon, a villain, a zealot, and more astutely, the apex of power in the United States. All of which are sadly true. He's also best described as the Josef Goebbles of the present age, and like the afore mentioned Nazi, his ability to craft lies and half truths into something Neo Cons spout as gospel is uncanny.
The game for him is to defame and render democrats and other liberals useless. (Mind you, it was a pretty easy job these days… Especially when Howard Dean is the only pony in the stable…) so far he has succeeded with remarkable prowess. It almost makes Hitler's swath through Poland look childishly, clumsy and downright ham fisted.
Rove was rewarded for his efforts, and is now the deputy white house chief of staff, and a senior advisor to the President. (By advisor, I mean handler. Without Rove, Bush would still be a minor leaguer in politics…)
Oddly in a Physical sense, he's not that impressive. He's pudgy, with thinning hair and cheesy glasses. He has the look of a community college professor, and has a smirk on his face like he's been banging the hottest 20 year old in his class. (Gender non-specific…) You would never in a million years get the idea that he “runs” the presidency.
More importantly, he's the spin-doctor that put any remaining semblance of American democracy on life support. And you just know he's eyeing that plug, sizing it up, so when it's least expected he'll tug it out of the socket. This is a man who is willing to use every dirty trick and mistruth to get his desired result. He is everything that rots the core out from under the “New World.”
But I digress; Karl has done a bad thing. He leaked the name of a CIA operative to the media. That's a big “no no.” In fact it's been a legal taboo since the Reagan era. He did it as a way to punish her family, because her husband, who is a retired ambassador, discovered that Iraq was not in fact purchasing “Yellow Cake” uranium and he foolishly let the world know the truth. Not only was it wrong, but also it proves that Rove is a bit of a vindictive cocksucker.
What kind of a man goes out of his way to deliberately endanger someone to prove a point? The answer can only be “An EVIL one.”
Worse still, after promising the media that whoever was responsible for the leaked information would no longer work for the white house, Bush recanted when Rove admitted it was him. Bush should no longer have any shred of credibility left. The longer Rove stays, the longer Bush will suffer in the polls. (Not that it matters much…)
Not since Nixon has America has such a dishonest government. With times being what they are, (which is an awful lot like the Vietnam era…) It really surprises me that there aren't people in the streets, and mass riots over this.
Anyway now I'm just ranting… and I need to sleep.
More later…
End of Transmission
Saturday, July 23, 2005
Alkaline Trio - Crimson
B0009IW8VM.01._SCLZZZZZZZ_
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
The musical pick of the week. This is a good record. One of my brothers turned me on to them.
They sort of remind me of Killing Joke for some reason. Perhaps it's because this disc is moody.
It's strong mid tempo pop punk, but at no point is there too much sugar.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
07/19/05
I feel great (You could even say both hale and hearty…). I got to sleep late, but it seems to have had no effect on me. I caught myself humming “The Ladybug’s Picnic” on my way to work. I’m not sure why my brain decided to dredge that one up, but it made me smile. Then it got stuck in my head. It has become like some sort of musical version of typhus. It just won’t stop.
Some people are tortured by their demons (Vincent VanGogh, Charles Manson, Jackson Pollock…) me, I’m tortured by a catchy little tune from Sesame Street about insects. If it weren’t so very annoying, it would be funny. It’s like the Zapruder film sequence in the movie JFK. “Back and to the left… Back and to the left… Back and to the left…”
Mind you, it’s not as if I have steeped into the mouth of madness. (Yet…) I just hate having shit repeat itself in my head. Apparently though I’m not alone. According to an American university professor, a song getting stuck in our head happens to roughly 97 percent of the population.
Apparently it’s a sort of "cognitive itch" - the mental equivalent of an itchy back. The brain replays the song over and over again to “scratch the itch.”
Some people are tortured by their demons (Vincent VanGogh, Charles Manson, Jackson Pollock…) me, I’m tortured by a catchy little tune from Sesame Street about insects. If it weren’t so very annoying, it would be funny. It’s like the Zapruder film sequence in the movie JFK. “Back and to the left… Back and to the left… Back and to the left…”
Mind you, it’s not as if I have steeped into the mouth of madness. (Yet…) I just hate having shit repeat itself in my head. Apparently though I’m not alone. According to an American university professor, a song getting stuck in our head happens to roughly 97 percent of the population.
Apparently it’s a sort of "cognitive itch" - the mental equivalent of an itchy back. The brain replays the song over and over again to “scratch the itch.”
Saturday, July 16, 2005
07/15/05
For a day off, today still wound up being busy. I had to go to the office to pick up my pay cheque. (We still operate in the Stone Age.) Then I had to tear off to Yuks to pick up another cheque, then off to the bank.
To get from one destination to another, I decided the train was the best option. Weird things happen to me on the train. I try to keep to myself… I really do. I don’t care for idle conversation. I like to read, or get lost in my thoughts, but somehow, there is always some freak that I accidentally make eye contact with. Apparently I haven’t mastered that glazed over look that most people have on the train. Without fail, I seem to manage to attract people who want to spread the “word” or are so mentally gone that they wish to explain the merits of Scooby Doo’s “acting” abilities. (True story… but for another time.)
Today was no exception. There was a pagan (ish) woman with a hair lip, who had managed to slather (I wish this was an exaggeration…) herself with “Mott’s Clamato” rub on tattoos. She had just left the Stampede grounds and was carrying a couple of brooms. (Irony see… life is truly filled with irony…) She wanted to chat. I wanted to read. I had just put my nose into my book (Alexander Solzhenitsyn’s “The First Circle”) when she tapped me on the shoulder. (I hate… and I mean hate to be touched by complete strangers…)
Rather than attempting a conversation, I just looked at her and furled my brow. I have found over the years that there are few things as dismissive as an arched eyebrow. This however, was not a deterrent for her.
Pagan Woman: It sure is hot…
Me: (Eyebrow still arched…) um yeah…
Pagan Woman: Is that a good book?
Me: I dunno… I just started trying to READ it…
Pagan Woman: Alexander Sol… (From this point the attempt at pronunciation became painful.)
Me: Solzhenitsyn…
Pagan Woman: Never heard of him… What kind of name is that? (Because of the hair lip, you couldn’t see her lips move… It was like looking a ventriloquist without the dummy.)
Me: Russian…
Pagan Woman: What’s it about?
Me: Well that’s what I’d like to find out… So… (And I put my nose back into the book.)
Now you’d think after that, the conversation would be over… Right? Wrong!!!
Pagan Woman: So you have no idea what it’s about?
Me: Look… I just want to read my book.
Pagan Woman: oh… It sure is hot… (I just ignored her from this point on.)
Then happily she got up, (Brooms and all) and moved to a different seat.
Later on, once I finally finished my errands, I went to the Chinook Mall to fart around for a while.
I poked around in the record store; I was waiting for Erin, Maya, and Michelle to show up. We decided to go to the movies. Tonight was the opening for “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.” I really wanted to see it, because as a child, it was one of my favorite books. When we lived in Montreal, my dad used to read it to my sister and me. He must have read it to us 10 times. But for as much as I wanted to see it, Erin went loopy for it. I was pretty sure that she might have exploded at one point. I loved hearing her giggle throughout the Oompa Loompa scenes.
Anyway, it was really good. I thought Tim Burton managed to make it look like I had always imagined it to be. Johnny Depp made Willy Wonka fantastically quirky and awkward.
After the movie, we headed off to the bookstore so Erin and Michelle could get their copies of the new Harry Potter book. The place was packed to the gills with kids. Chapters had turned the whole thing into an event. There was face painting, and a treasure hunt. There were “stations” strategically located around the store, where the kids got read different parts of previous books. It was total madness. You couldn’t help but crash into kids. It was reminiscent of trying to navigate “Superstore” on a Saturday afternoon.
While I’m not the most patient person in the world, I managed to remain remarkably restrained. I just tried to keep to the sections that held my interest.
I found a neat book about Russia. It’s called Broken Empire. It’s about the socioeconomic changes since the collapse of communism. I think I’m going to enjoy reading it.
Anyway… It’s bedtime for me.
To get from one destination to another, I decided the train was the best option. Weird things happen to me on the train. I try to keep to myself… I really do. I don’t care for idle conversation. I like to read, or get lost in my thoughts, but somehow, there is always some freak that I accidentally make eye contact with. Apparently I haven’t mastered that glazed over look that most people have on the train. Without fail, I seem to manage to attract people who want to spread the “word” or are so mentally gone that they wish to explain the merits of Scooby Doo’s “acting” abilities. (True story… but for another time.)
Today was no exception. There was a pagan (ish) woman with a hair lip, who had managed to slather (I wish this was an exaggeration…) herself with “Mott’s Clamato” rub on tattoos. She had just left the Stampede grounds and was carrying a couple of brooms. (Irony see… life is truly filled with irony…) She wanted to chat. I wanted to read. I had just put my nose into my book (Alexander Solzhenitsyn’s “The First Circle”) when she tapped me on the shoulder. (I hate… and I mean hate to be touched by complete strangers…)
Rather than attempting a conversation, I just looked at her and furled my brow. I have found over the years that there are few things as dismissive as an arched eyebrow. This however, was not a deterrent for her.
Pagan Woman: It sure is hot…
Me: (Eyebrow still arched…) um yeah…
Pagan Woman: Is that a good book?
Me: I dunno… I just started trying to READ it…
Pagan Woman: Alexander Sol… (From this point the attempt at pronunciation became painful.)
Me: Solzhenitsyn…
Pagan Woman: Never heard of him… What kind of name is that? (Because of the hair lip, you couldn’t see her lips move… It was like looking a ventriloquist without the dummy.)
Me: Russian…
Pagan Woman: What’s it about?
Me: Well that’s what I’d like to find out… So… (And I put my nose back into the book.)
Now you’d think after that, the conversation would be over… Right? Wrong!!!
Pagan Woman: So you have no idea what it’s about?
Me: Look… I just want to read my book.
Pagan Woman: oh… It sure is hot… (I just ignored her from this point on.)
Then happily she got up, (Brooms and all) and moved to a different seat.
Later on, once I finally finished my errands, I went to the Chinook Mall to fart around for a while.
I poked around in the record store; I was waiting for Erin, Maya, and Michelle to show up. We decided to go to the movies. Tonight was the opening for “Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.” I really wanted to see it, because as a child, it was one of my favorite books. When we lived in Montreal, my dad used to read it to my sister and me. He must have read it to us 10 times. But for as much as I wanted to see it, Erin went loopy for it. I was pretty sure that she might have exploded at one point. I loved hearing her giggle throughout the Oompa Loompa scenes.
Anyway, it was really good. I thought Tim Burton managed to make it look like I had always imagined it to be. Johnny Depp made Willy Wonka fantastically quirky and awkward.
After the movie, we headed off to the bookstore so Erin and Michelle could get their copies of the new Harry Potter book. The place was packed to the gills with kids. Chapters had turned the whole thing into an event. There was face painting, and a treasure hunt. There were “stations” strategically located around the store, where the kids got read different parts of previous books. It was total madness. You couldn’t help but crash into kids. It was reminiscent of trying to navigate “Superstore” on a Saturday afternoon.
While I’m not the most patient person in the world, I managed to remain remarkably restrained. I just tried to keep to the sections that held my interest.
I found a neat book about Russia. It’s called Broken Empire. It’s about the socioeconomic changes since the collapse of communism. I think I’m going to enjoy reading it.
Anyway… It’s bedtime for me.
Ben Folds - Songs For Silverman
B0007WF1XM.01._SCLZZZZZZZ_
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
Another Gem... Ben Folds just gets better and better.
The whole record stands up on it's own.
Just buy it.
The Dropkick Murphys - Warrior's Code
B0009IOR0C.01._SCLZZZZZZZ_
Originally uploaded by whiskeydrenched.
I love this disc. It's the perfect album for a night of drunken mayhem. If there was a recipie for "Irish soccer hooligans", this record would be a significant ingredient.
Punk rock wtih accordion and bagpipes, how could you ever go wrong?
Thursday, July 14, 2005
07/13/05 Just some shit...
Here are some things that have been rattling about in my head for the last little while.
1) I hate clowns… I think anyone that decides to become a clown needs a lot of “Special” help. John Wayne Gacey loved clowns… Need I really say more? If a clown showed up at my doorstep, my first reaction would be to punch it.
2) The first rock and roll album I ever got was AC/DC’s “Let There be Rock” I think I still actually have it somewhere. I played the shit out of that record. I was 11 at the time. The next record I got was less of a classic. Styx “Kilroy was Here” To this day, every time I hear “Mr. Roboto” I cringe. I think there may have been an Air Supply record in there too, but the less said about that the better.
3) I love Strawberry Slurpees. Sadly they have disappeared.
4) There are few foods better than a good hotdog. Especially if it has corn relish on it. For some reason they always taste the best coming from one of those carts at 3 in the morning. No Sour Kraut though… That stuff is evil.
5) People who are too into religion freak me out. Especially when they are compelled to recruit others. I just can’t muster that kind of enthusiasm for anything. (There is a difference between belief, and fanatical devotion…)
6) I always wanted to build one of those model rockets. The kind that you can actually launch.
7) I am perversely entertained by politics. Regardless of my own beliefs, it amuses me to see just how easy it is to push people’s buttons when it comes to politics. All it takes is a statement like “Karl Rove is a vampire… or Stephen Harper is impotent” and people unfurl…(Even though both statements are gospel.)
8) I believe that music really is food for the soul. Pop music on the other hand is fodder for the masses. The world is top heavy with starlets, divas and manufactured musical swill. We could have all happily lived our lives without Brittney, JLO, PDiddy, Missy Elliot and Justin Timberlake. Bob Marley, Kurt Cobain, Keith Moon and scores of others must be turning in their graves.
9) The most amusing Heavy Metal band ever is “Judas Priest” (It’s because they take themselves way too serious. (My favourite Heavy Metal band however is Iron Maiden, mostly because they have a brilliant sense of humour.
10) I am considering looking more deeply into Buddhism. I am very attracted to some of its principles. The realization that a physical object is just the manifestation of an idea bakes my noodle.
11) People who think that they are vampires amuse me. That’s some very funny shit. This just in… Vampires aren’t real. Neither are the boogieman, Santa Claus, or the Easter Bunny. (No matter what Anne Rice says…) I’m going to go out on a limb here and say, “That takes a special kind of lonely to be able to sit in a dentist’s chair and have pointy teeth installed. Good luck with that…”
12) My new favourite music artist is Kinnie Starr. The song “Alright” sends shivers down my spine. She’s pretty damn cute too.
13) I dislike game show hosts. In my most humble estimation they are barely a notch about used car salesmen, or people who work in Stereo shops. I want to hold Alex Trebec down and shave off his moustache.
14) I believe that the “Middle East” is a powder keg that North Americans have set off. We will be reeling from its ramifications for the next century. It’s too bad we suck at dealing with it too. It’s kinda like using water bombers full of white gas to put out a forest fire.
15) The war on terrorism is being fought in exactly the wrong way. Instead of engaging in combat with rogue nations, we should be hunting the terrorists and treating them as criminals… not terrorists. The sooner we learn to not give them a vaulted status, the better we’ll fare in the “war.” It is more demoralizing to treat them as common criminals. If we refuse to recognize that their deeds have any power over us, the easier it will be to defeat them.
1) I hate clowns… I think anyone that decides to become a clown needs a lot of “Special” help. John Wayne Gacey loved clowns… Need I really say more? If a clown showed up at my doorstep, my first reaction would be to punch it.
2) The first rock and roll album I ever got was AC/DC’s “Let There be Rock” I think I still actually have it somewhere. I played the shit out of that record. I was 11 at the time. The next record I got was less of a classic. Styx “Kilroy was Here” To this day, every time I hear “Mr. Roboto” I cringe. I think there may have been an Air Supply record in there too, but the less said about that the better.
3) I love Strawberry Slurpees. Sadly they have disappeared.
4) There are few foods better than a good hotdog. Especially if it has corn relish on it. For some reason they always taste the best coming from one of those carts at 3 in the morning. No Sour Kraut though… That stuff is evil.
5) People who are too into religion freak me out. Especially when they are compelled to recruit others. I just can’t muster that kind of enthusiasm for anything. (There is a difference between belief, and fanatical devotion…)
6) I always wanted to build one of those model rockets. The kind that you can actually launch.
7) I am perversely entertained by politics. Regardless of my own beliefs, it amuses me to see just how easy it is to push people’s buttons when it comes to politics. All it takes is a statement like “Karl Rove is a vampire… or Stephen Harper is impotent” and people unfurl…(Even though both statements are gospel.)
8) I believe that music really is food for the soul. Pop music on the other hand is fodder for the masses. The world is top heavy with starlets, divas and manufactured musical swill. We could have all happily lived our lives without Brittney, JLO, PDiddy, Missy Elliot and Justin Timberlake. Bob Marley, Kurt Cobain, Keith Moon and scores of others must be turning in their graves.
9) The most amusing Heavy Metal band ever is “Judas Priest” (It’s because they take themselves way too serious. (My favourite Heavy Metal band however is Iron Maiden, mostly because they have a brilliant sense of humour.
10) I am considering looking more deeply into Buddhism. I am very attracted to some of its principles. The realization that a physical object is just the manifestation of an idea bakes my noodle.
11) People who think that they are vampires amuse me. That’s some very funny shit. This just in… Vampires aren’t real. Neither are the boogieman, Santa Claus, or the Easter Bunny. (No matter what Anne Rice says…) I’m going to go out on a limb here and say, “That takes a special kind of lonely to be able to sit in a dentist’s chair and have pointy teeth installed. Good luck with that…”
12) My new favourite music artist is Kinnie Starr. The song “Alright” sends shivers down my spine. She’s pretty damn cute too.
13) I dislike game show hosts. In my most humble estimation they are barely a notch about used car salesmen, or people who work in Stereo shops. I want to hold Alex Trebec down and shave off his moustache.
14) I believe that the “Middle East” is a powder keg that North Americans have set off. We will be reeling from its ramifications for the next century. It’s too bad we suck at dealing with it too. It’s kinda like using water bombers full of white gas to put out a forest fire.
15) The war on terrorism is being fought in exactly the wrong way. Instead of engaging in combat with rogue nations, we should be hunting the terrorists and treating them as criminals… not terrorists. The sooner we learn to not give them a vaulted status, the better we’ll fare in the “war.” It is more demoralizing to treat them as common criminals. If we refuse to recognize that their deeds have any power over us, the easier it will be to defeat them.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
07/11/05 The People's Glorious Republic of Marcus...
I have decided that it’s time for some sort of benevolent dictatorship to run “Fortress North America.” I have also decided that I will throw my hat into that ring. I nominated myself to become the new fearless leader. Hell… given who’s running the show these days, I suspect that I couldn’t do any worse.
Perhaps since others have imposed their will on me and mine, maybe I’ll be able to do the same thing. I have some ideas, and I think they would be of more benefit.
My first act would be to replace the three existing national anthems with the immortal classic “Back In Black” by AC / DC. I love that song. It’s strong, and it kind of says, “Hi… You may have noticed that we’ve made some changes.” (I like that.)
Next, the flags have to go. They all suck. They’re all so bloody BORING and all so terribly traditional. Who doesn’t use the colours red white or blue? Instead I was thinking of a yellow flag with a bunch of bananas on it. We’ll called it “Glorious Old Bananas” or something like that… I’ll work on that one… (Who amongst us needs stars and maple leaves when they can have fruit?)
That brings us to policy. I would create some new ministries and make up some totally new ones.
The Propaganda Ministry. (No beating around the bush with this one… I’m willing to call a spade a spade…) It will be responsible to me and me alone. Their job is to tell my “children” that all is well. I already have a few people in mind for this post.
The Ministry of The People’s Happiness. I love the sound of this one… They will work hand in hand with the Propaganda ministry. Their only aim is to please. We need to put smiles on each and every North American’s face. As a side benefit, they will be able to dispense psychoactive drugs free of charge to all my “Children”
The Department of The Navy and the Coast Guard will be amalgamated. The New ministry is to be called “That dirty bunch of Rum Soaked Sea Dogs and Pirates.” Just wait till you see the new letterhead… It’s truly smashing.
INS, Homeland Security, The RCMP, and The FBI, Customs and Revenue Canada, and their Mexican counterparts will also be amalgamated. They will be newly named “The Keep The Bad People Out Police” Their motto, translated from Latin is “Yes we really can do this to you…”
We also need a name for our new super country. Marcusland has a good ring to it… So does “The People’s Glorious Republic of Marcus…” Again I’ll have to ponder on it for a while.
Anyway…
Perhaps since others have imposed their will on me and mine, maybe I’ll be able to do the same thing. I have some ideas, and I think they would be of more benefit.
My first act would be to replace the three existing national anthems with the immortal classic “Back In Black” by AC / DC. I love that song. It’s strong, and it kind of says, “Hi… You may have noticed that we’ve made some changes.” (I like that.)
Next, the flags have to go. They all suck. They’re all so bloody BORING and all so terribly traditional. Who doesn’t use the colours red white or blue? Instead I was thinking of a yellow flag with a bunch of bananas on it. We’ll called it “Glorious Old Bananas” or something like that… I’ll work on that one… (Who amongst us needs stars and maple leaves when they can have fruit?)
That brings us to policy. I would create some new ministries and make up some totally new ones.
The Propaganda Ministry. (No beating around the bush with this one… I’m willing to call a spade a spade…) It will be responsible to me and me alone. Their job is to tell my “children” that all is well. I already have a few people in mind for this post.
The Ministry of The People’s Happiness. I love the sound of this one… They will work hand in hand with the Propaganda ministry. Their only aim is to please. We need to put smiles on each and every North American’s face. As a side benefit, they will be able to dispense psychoactive drugs free of charge to all my “Children”
The Department of The Navy and the Coast Guard will be amalgamated. The New ministry is to be called “That dirty bunch of Rum Soaked Sea Dogs and Pirates.” Just wait till you see the new letterhead… It’s truly smashing.
INS, Homeland Security, The RCMP, and The FBI, Customs and Revenue Canada, and their Mexican counterparts will also be amalgamated. They will be newly named “The Keep The Bad People Out Police” Their motto, translated from Latin is “Yes we really can do this to you…”
We also need a name for our new super country. Marcusland has a good ring to it… So does “The People’s Glorious Republic of Marcus…” Again I’ll have to ponder on it for a while.
Anyway…
Friday, July 08, 2005
07/08/05
Today is the first day of the Calgary Stampede. For the uninitiated, The “Greatest Outdoor Show on Earth” starts with a big parade. Which is great right? Who doesn’t love a parade? On the list of humanity’s most beloved things, I believe parades fall somewhere in between pirates and deep fried dessert treats. My only issue with the parade is this. It starts at 7:30 am. What undead cowpoke decided on that start time?
Clearly the wild-hearted spirit of west doesn’t involve sleeping.
As a pedestrian, it matters little to me that the parade clogs up the downtown on a Friday morning. (I can get behind the chaos…) Truthfully, I like all the people milling about. I just find it hard to get that excited about anything before 10am.
While I’m not the biggest fan of the Stampede Exhibition itself, I do like what happens to the city in that 10-day period. Calgary pulls the stick out of its ass and has a good old time. For 10 days people are a little more human. Sure it’s a little odd to see Asians dressed as cowboys, and most people look really silly in a Stetson, but it’s fun. Even if it just reinforces stereotypes of the west.
Other things…
Tomorrow I’m going to do a show in Red Deer. It’s been about 3 years since I last played at the legion hall there. I’m excited. I get to go with Jasen Fredricksen and Dave Nystrom. I like those guys a lot, so this should be fun.
Tonight, Erin and I are going to the movies. I think we are going to see Batman Begins. I have already seen it, but I loved it, so I am more than willing to go again. I think I have a hopeless addiction to popcorn. (Well, from the theatre…)
Yesterday I mentioned a graphic novel called “V for Vendetta” I discovered that it is going to be a movie. The producers of the Matrix have just finished up principal photography, with November 5th as the release date. For those of you who don’t understand the significance of the date, it’s Guy Fawkes Day… or Bonfire night.
Given the nature of the story, it couldn’t be a more appropriate day.
"Remember, remember, the fifth of November,
Gunpowder, treason and plot. We see no reason why
Gunpowder treason should ever be forgot!"
Anyway…
Clearly the wild-hearted spirit of west doesn’t involve sleeping.
As a pedestrian, it matters little to me that the parade clogs up the downtown on a Friday morning. (I can get behind the chaos…) Truthfully, I like all the people milling about. I just find it hard to get that excited about anything before 10am.
While I’m not the biggest fan of the Stampede Exhibition itself, I do like what happens to the city in that 10-day period. Calgary pulls the stick out of its ass and has a good old time. For 10 days people are a little more human. Sure it’s a little odd to see Asians dressed as cowboys, and most people look really silly in a Stetson, but it’s fun. Even if it just reinforces stereotypes of the west.
Other things…
Tomorrow I’m going to do a show in Red Deer. It’s been about 3 years since I last played at the legion hall there. I’m excited. I get to go with Jasen Fredricksen and Dave Nystrom. I like those guys a lot, so this should be fun.
Tonight, Erin and I are going to the movies. I think we are going to see Batman Begins. I have already seen it, but I loved it, so I am more than willing to go again. I think I have a hopeless addiction to popcorn. (Well, from the theatre…)
Yesterday I mentioned a graphic novel called “V for Vendetta” I discovered that it is going to be a movie. The producers of the Matrix have just finished up principal photography, with November 5th as the release date. For those of you who don’t understand the significance of the date, it’s Guy Fawkes Day… or Bonfire night.
Given the nature of the story, it couldn’t be a more appropriate day.
"Remember, remember, the fifth of November,
Gunpowder, treason and plot. We see no reason why
Gunpowder treason should ever be forgot!"
Anyway…
07/07/05
I’ve had a great swell of emotion for the people of England today. I, for some reason, feel the need to express my most heart-felt condolences. Not that it helps… I can’t imagine the horror that these people must be going through at this time. In a rare moment, I even prayed today. I have been going through the same range of feelings that I did during 9/11.
Regardless of the rationale that was employed to conceive of this act, it is nothing short of insidious brutality. I believe that the people responsible must be apprehended and punished. Nothing that I can think of justifies this. Nothing.
I understand that for every action, there is a reaction. For every trade tower there is an Afghanistan, and for every Iraq there is a London. When is this going to stop? At what point will common sense prevail? Is there ever going to be a time when a sense of human decency prevents us from butchering one another?
Likely not I suppose.
I found myself looking at a graphic novel called V for Vendetta. An astute and talented man named Alan Moore wrote it. In a nutshell, it’s about a post apocalyptic England, where fascism is on the rise, and one man manages to take the government to task. It’s a very violent, but equally fascinating story. The lines between good and evil have been muddied to the point where it becomes difficult to figure out whom to root for.
That is where I am in all of this. I’m not sure whom to root for. The first world is broken. I’m not sure it’s even fixable. I’m not surprised that others hate us. We’ve become decadent, and greedy. We live in a wasteful society that consumes more than we need to. (And by insane margins…)
I am convinced that this terror thing is a case of double jeopardy. Both sides have fucked us all. The powers that be do not represent my interests. (Hell, of all the G8 leaders, there are 7 I didn’t even get a chance to vote for, and they get to make decision that will affect me… How does that work?) They never have. But the terrorists threaten the security of my world.
We need to find a way to sort this out. There has to be a more fair way of dealing with the conflicts between us. Otherwise, sooner or later, the jig will be up. Humanity will become like the dinosaurs, just a footnote in earth’s history.
Anyway… This is all reactionary blather on my part.
And for those of you that have read V for Vendetta…
England Prevails.
Regardless of the rationale that was employed to conceive of this act, it is nothing short of insidious brutality. I believe that the people responsible must be apprehended and punished. Nothing that I can think of justifies this. Nothing.
I understand that for every action, there is a reaction. For every trade tower there is an Afghanistan, and for every Iraq there is a London. When is this going to stop? At what point will common sense prevail? Is there ever going to be a time when a sense of human decency prevents us from butchering one another?
Likely not I suppose.
I found myself looking at a graphic novel called V for Vendetta. An astute and talented man named Alan Moore wrote it. In a nutshell, it’s about a post apocalyptic England, where fascism is on the rise, and one man manages to take the government to task. It’s a very violent, but equally fascinating story. The lines between good and evil have been muddied to the point where it becomes difficult to figure out whom to root for.
That is where I am in all of this. I’m not sure whom to root for. The first world is broken. I’m not sure it’s even fixable. I’m not surprised that others hate us. We’ve become decadent, and greedy. We live in a wasteful society that consumes more than we need to. (And by insane margins…)
I am convinced that this terror thing is a case of double jeopardy. Both sides have fucked us all. The powers that be do not represent my interests. (Hell, of all the G8 leaders, there are 7 I didn’t even get a chance to vote for, and they get to make decision that will affect me… How does that work?) They never have. But the terrorists threaten the security of my world.
We need to find a way to sort this out. There has to be a more fair way of dealing with the conflicts between us. Otherwise, sooner or later, the jig will be up. Humanity will become like the dinosaurs, just a footnote in earth’s history.
Anyway… This is all reactionary blather on my part.
And for those of you that have read V for Vendetta…
England Prevails.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
07/06/05
It’ s 3:15 in the morning. It’s pretty quiet. The only noise, other than the pressing of these keys, is the sound of a street cleaner making its rounds. It has a bit of a dull, almost white noise kind of hum to it. It’s not on my street, by the sounds of it; it’s a couple of blocks away.
I have often thought it would be cool to have a job like that. The kind of job that lets you work late at night, and alleviates the need to be social. I like that idea. Well mostly. More to the point, the need to be social with complete strangers. I’m not that keen on it. Usually I find meeting people a little painful, unless they give off some sort of a disarming charm. If there is no sense of human warmth, I’m not comfortable. I get really fidgety. (It’s sort of like how a dog has to sniff you out before it decides how acceptable you are…) This can however be rectified by the addition of Scotch. Ply me with the water of life, and sadly, then I can find interest in people that would normally drive me mad.
There is something to be said for the quiet. It’s in those increasingly rare moments, when my brain unwinds. I get to think without the noise pollution that my head is constantly infected with. There are no fires to put out; there is no manic need to get something done. It’s brilliant.
I have detected another noise. It is the ticking sound of my wristwatch. Tick… Tick… Tick…
I have often thought it would be cool to have a job like that. The kind of job that lets you work late at night, and alleviates the need to be social. I like that idea. Well mostly. More to the point, the need to be social with complete strangers. I’m not that keen on it. Usually I find meeting people a little painful, unless they give off some sort of a disarming charm. If there is no sense of human warmth, I’m not comfortable. I get really fidgety. (It’s sort of like how a dog has to sniff you out before it decides how acceptable you are…) This can however be rectified by the addition of Scotch. Ply me with the water of life, and sadly, then I can find interest in people that would normally drive me mad.
There is something to be said for the quiet. It’s in those increasingly rare moments, when my brain unwinds. I get to think without the noise pollution that my head is constantly infected with. There are no fires to put out; there is no manic need to get something done. It’s brilliant.
I have detected another noise. It is the ticking sound of my wristwatch. Tick… Tick… Tick…
Monday, July 04, 2005
07/05/05
I remember why I hate open mics. It strikes me that they are only good for mining a phrase here, and an idea there. There's not much in the way of useful crowd response, so it's not like you can really test a joke.
Nothing says "stand up" quite like a big empty room, (if you discount the Koreans munching on chicken wings in the back) It's not a place to learn your craft. It's a place to learn humility. That's it. There is nothing more to gain from it.
It is most likely that if you kill at an open mic, then you are probably the funniest guy in your office.
I have nothing else to offer this evening…
Nothing says "stand up" quite like a big empty room, (if you discount the Koreans munching on chicken wings in the back) It's not a place to learn your craft. It's a place to learn humility. That's it. There is nothing more to gain from it.
It is most likely that if you kill at an open mic, then you are probably the funniest guy in your office.
I have nothing else to offer this evening…
07/04/05 Maybe The Problem is You...
First, I’d like to thank all those that voted (either by email, or by leaving comments.) It was a tight race between “Disfigured Skating, A Gentleman’s Handbook” and “Maybe the Problem is You…” The latter wins by the narrowest of margins.
Now with having a title, I can proceed with the artwork. The Cd itself will be ready in the next two weeks. (Provided that I can get this fucking piece of shit scanner to work… HP my ass…)
But I digress…
It’s early, and I have tons of work to do.
So my possums, I will post something with a little more depth later on.
End of Transmission…
Now with having a title, I can proceed with the artwork. The Cd itself will be ready in the next two weeks. (Provided that I can get this fucking piece of shit scanner to work… HP my ass…)
But I digress…
It’s early, and I have tons of work to do.
So my possums, I will post something with a little more depth later on.
End of Transmission…
Friday, July 01, 2005
07/01/05
I just spent the last hour at the gym in my building. I’m trying to beat the 25-pound plateau that I seem to have gotten stuck at. I’m blasting at it with as much cardio as I can manage. I’m wiped, and I smell like an old hockey bag, but I feel like I’ve accomplished something. Tomorrow I’m getting right back on that horse. I am a man determined.
I also managed to get some decent sleep. That’s what I want out of my Canada day. Just a really good rest, and that’s about it. I have no real desire to celebrate. Don’t get me wrong, I love being Canadian and all, but really it’s just the place that I’m from. I don’t have an over inflated sense of pragmatic patriotism. I’ll leave that to the Archie Bunker Type slobs. (I realize that’s a fictitious American character… but it seemed to fit the stereotype I was going for.) They seem to get off on it. I do not.
The only time I get really wrapped up in patriotism is when hockey supremacy is on the line. This may be hypocritical to some, but I don’t give a shit. I’m willing to live with it.
I’d have to say that my expectations for our nation’s birthday have been dramatically lowered over the years. To me is has become as anti climactic as New Year’s Eve. I just don’t really care that much. For some reason I’m unable to get excited when the big red ball drops, or the clock strikes 12. Perhaps it’s just a ploy to unload cheap champagne on the masses.
I find myself wondered if most people fake the excitement. I’ve forced the smile through gritted teeth, and sang the song with a curse under my breath. How many of us are there? How many are mixing it up at the party? How many would rather be doing something else? Too many times, I’ve struggled to get that taxi at 4am.
It all just seems too forced to me.
On to other stuff…
I started cutting together a promo video last night. I really liked my performance on the tape, but I didn’t realize just how fat I had gotten. I looked like the Micheline man. (More to the point, the Micheline man in a pink shirt. Fuck…what was I thinking?) Just call me BIB. Anyway, I decided to pitch it, and re-shoot in the fall. The audio however is still useable. I think it will become the CD I have been promising for eons. I’ve been scraping together some possible titles for it. This is the list I have come up with. I’m counting on all of you readers to vote on the best one.
1) Maybe The Problem is you.
2) A tad Overweight, But Olive eyes to die for.
3) The Scrapes of Wrath
4) I used to be Fat.
5) Perhaps you should Floss…
6) Marcus Beaubier – Live at Yuk Yuks
7) Disfigured Skating, A Gentleman's Handbook...
8) What gives you the right to put out a CD…
9) New and Improved Flavour…
Anyway, Just leave a comment on which one you like best, and I'll use some sort of scientific method to calculate the results.
I also managed to get some decent sleep. That’s what I want out of my Canada day. Just a really good rest, and that’s about it. I have no real desire to celebrate. Don’t get me wrong, I love being Canadian and all, but really it’s just the place that I’m from. I don’t have an over inflated sense of pragmatic patriotism. I’ll leave that to the Archie Bunker Type slobs. (I realize that’s a fictitious American character… but it seemed to fit the stereotype I was going for.) They seem to get off on it. I do not.
The only time I get really wrapped up in patriotism is when hockey supremacy is on the line. This may be hypocritical to some, but I don’t give a shit. I’m willing to live with it.
I’d have to say that my expectations for our nation’s birthday have been dramatically lowered over the years. To me is has become as anti climactic as New Year’s Eve. I just don’t really care that much. For some reason I’m unable to get excited when the big red ball drops, or the clock strikes 12. Perhaps it’s just a ploy to unload cheap champagne on the masses.
I find myself wondered if most people fake the excitement. I’ve forced the smile through gritted teeth, and sang the song with a curse under my breath. How many of us are there? How many are mixing it up at the party? How many would rather be doing something else? Too many times, I’ve struggled to get that taxi at 4am.
It all just seems too forced to me.
On to other stuff…
I started cutting together a promo video last night. I really liked my performance on the tape, but I didn’t realize just how fat I had gotten. I looked like the Micheline man. (More to the point, the Micheline man in a pink shirt. Fuck…what was I thinking?) Just call me BIB. Anyway, I decided to pitch it, and re-shoot in the fall. The audio however is still useable. I think it will become the CD I have been promising for eons. I’ve been scraping together some possible titles for it. This is the list I have come up with. I’m counting on all of you readers to vote on the best one.
1) Maybe The Problem is you.
2) A tad Overweight, But Olive eyes to die for.
3) The Scrapes of Wrath
4) I used to be Fat.
5) Perhaps you should Floss…
6) Marcus Beaubier – Live at Yuk Yuks
7) Disfigured Skating, A Gentleman's Handbook...
8) What gives you the right to put out a CD…
9) New and Improved Flavour…
Anyway, Just leave a comment on which one you like best, and I'll use some sort of scientific method to calculate the results.
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