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Happy Thanksgiving.

 

“I am the last barman poet
I see America drinking the fabulous cocktails I make
Americans getting stinky on something I stir or shake
The sex on the beach
The schnapps made from peach
The velvet hammer
The Alabama slammer.
I make things with juice and froth
The pink squirrel
The three-toed sloth.
I make drinks so sweet and snazzy
The iced tea
The kamakazi
The orgasm
The death spasm
The Singapore sling
The ding-a-ling.
America you’ve just been devoted to every flavor I got
But if you want to get loaded
Why don’t you just order a shot?
Bar is open.”

Black Wednesday/HM & SPPM

Black Wednesday? I LOVE Black Wednesday! It’s the one day of the year where every American is assured the right to be an alcoholic who can do no wrong on the road.

Also, I listen to your conversations. Such as this one I caught the tail-end of between the homeless man(HM) who hangs out outside the CVS by my house and a self-professed Polish man(SPPM):

SPPM: ..and wait, excuse me, you are how old sir?
HM: 66
SPPM: 66? 66 and you beg for change?

(at this point I dropped about $1.50 in change into HM’s hand on my way to my car)

HM: I only ask for help
SPPM: Help? You know how old I am? I am 67! You think I want to work? You think I wouldn’t like to retire?!
HM: Things are different for everyone
SPPM: Oh, so now you are world traveller! Ha! You would not have lasted a day in Poland, friend!

scene.

Chuck Klosterman is a Genius.

 "Sometimes it seems like Axl believes every single Guns N’ Roses song needs to employ every single thing that Guns N’ Roses has the capacity to do—there needs to be a soft part, a hard part, a falsetto stretch, some piano plinking, some R&B bullshit, a little Judas Priest, subhuman sound effects, a few Robert Plant yowls, dolphin squeaks, wind, overt sentimentality, and a caustic modernization of the blues."

For Chuck’s complete review of this album, I beg of you, please go here and have your mind blown.

Disparaging thought for the day:

"…the petitioning, the soliciting, the saturation, the hocking, the selling, the lying, the begging, the exploiting…all to get your pictures on a wall, your words in a page, your feet on a stage, your face on a screen…sometimes it’s enough to make you want to keep your day job."–Onarga, 11/19/08

A Quick Second With Valerie Deisinger

Val: I just saw your ballot. Phil Collins above Adams? I realize you are not kidding… I just don’t understand why not.

Onarga: "Against All Odds" would be a good reason.

Vaj-ookie

 

Onarga: my stomach hurts, does your stomach hurt?
 
Carly:  not at all
I have been eating cookies for breakfast
It’s a very un-Durst thing to be doing
 
Onarga: Durst?
Fred?
 
Carly:  duh
 
Onarga: if that’s the only Un-Durst thing you’re doing today then I would say you’re having more than an off day
 
Carly:  well, I am sure there are more
But my definition of Durst consists solely of the fact that he is a guy who wants people to stick cookies in their HUH!
 
Onarga: I don’t’ think it’s that he wants YOU to stick anything in you "huh!" unless you’re asking him to accept cookies over nookie
Is that the case?
 
Carly:  I told you, my understanding of Durst is very basic
 
Onarga: As is your misunderstanding of Durst
 
Carly:  it’s a direct result
No shit
 
Onarga: he’s only got that one rule: don’t ask him to substitute his Nookie for anything, least of all cookies, lest said confectionary delight be inserted painfully into your own rectum
Oh, "Huh!” depending on how you interpret the latter
 
Carly:  as a subset of that rule, I think we can also safely say that Durst’s only motivation (for anything) is nookie
If you want him to watch your dog, you’ll be paying him in nookie, or you’ll be looking elsewhere for a sitter
 
Onarga: Question:
 
Onarga: Suppose Mr. Durst visits his mother on his birthday, his mother has made him some cookies in celebration of the event, did she get him to come over on the promise of nookie? And will she have to up the "Nookie ante" to get him anywhere near these hypothetical cookies?
 
Carly:  easy
His mother serves him the cookie on a stripper’s va-j
I mean, this is Fred Durst’s Mom we’re talking about, right?
 
Onarga: Are we then to assume that this lack of motivation in the face of anything NOT nookie can, in someway, be attributed to the way Mother Durst raised young Fred?
 
Carly:  not on its own
Unless, that is, Durst was raised in a vacuum
 
Onarga: A listen to his music gives the impression that he was
Let’s suppose he wasn’t though, for the sake or argument
 
Onarga: At what point did "nookie" become the great motivator? One which, clearly, given the Vaj-ookie, is one his mother supports, or rather, enables, even if she herself doesn’t endorse it
 
Carly:  or, has she come to embrace this characteristic, formed entirely separate from any influence of her own?
As a way to bridge the divide, created by Fred’s angst over "the way things are in the world today"?
 
Onarga: So, then, the Vaj-ookie came very late in her parenting failure of Fred then, and she simply took to using it as a means of spending more time with her son
Interesting
Do you suppose royalties on his "Bizkit" records come in the form of "Nookie"?
And how do you split that up, points-wise, on the publishing?
 
Carly:  doesn’t matter, as long as Fred gets as much nookie as he thinks its worth
Whatever is left, the band splits
 
Onarga: huh
This is interesting
Perhaps we should write a paper on this "Mr. D"
That song is like Mr. D’s own personal "what would you do for a Klondike bar" theme song
 
Carly:  sears
His answer?
fuckin’ NOTHING!
 
Onarga: you know what this needs to be?
A mutherfuckin’ BLOG, yo!
 
Carly: sears

You Wear THAT?

“Hey, Tim, you still play in a band, right?”
“That all depends on what you’re about to ask me"”
“Oh, okay, well, I was just wondering, y’know, if you do still play in that band, like, where do you buy, like your playing clothes?”
“Huh? What the hell are you talking about?”
“Y’know, like the skinny jeans and stuff, where do you buy those?"
“I don’t wear shit like that, can’t you tell?”
“Yeah, but, you don’t wear what you’re wearing now on the weekend and at night, do you?”
“Yes”
“Really?”
“Yes, why wouldn’t I?”
“You wear that**?”
“Yes”
“Oh, um…okay…nevermind”
 
She gives me a befuddled look, still clearly wondering if I really do dress like this all the time, and then turns on her heel to leave, but, before she’s completely out the door she turns back and pops her head in again and says:
 
“But, don’t you, I mean…you must have friends that wear that kinda stuff, right?”
“I don’t have anyone close enough to me who wears that crap to waste one more second on to find out where they buy the clothes that make them look like shit”
 
 
 
**For the record, I was wearing jeans, black shoes, a white polyester dress shirt from the seventies, a red pin-striped tie which I unintentionally matched with red socks, and my black cardigan sweater.

Open Letter To My Fellow Prince Fans

Dear Prince fans,

This bible-thumpin’ mofo has lost his mind, I cite the following as evidence.

Onarga.

A Quick Second With Elza, pt. 2

Elza: Is High School Musical really popular?

me:  I think so. But you ask me that as though I just bought my first training bra and can’t believe how hard 8th grade is.

 

“On Your pizza!”

Turns out the famed Donzello’s, subject oif the famous pizza song (on your pizza!)… is no longer "giving you what you want" as it claims in the song.

http://media.www.dailyvidette.com/media/storage/paper420/news/2008/01/24/Campus/Southside.Food.Court.Makes.Changes.Causes.Debate-3166036.shtml

seems the central illinois college pizza chain has decided to stray from it’s "build your own pie" service to simply pizza by the slice… relegating customers to whatever concoction Donzello’s sees fit.

Here it is… THE PIZZA SONG…. LIVE!

 

 

the song will remain in rotation as a memory to an idea of service as close to Kramer’s "Make your own pie" idea (ca. 1991) as anyone has ever gotten…

hey donzello!  maybe i wouldn’t like a little anchovi…. ON MY PIZZA!