Thursday, May 26, 2005

It's official! I'm booked at the Flagstaff Folk Festival on June 11 at 10:50 in the morning.
I think. Their grid is kinda screwy.

Fortunately I have been able to lay my hands upon five (count 'em, five) copies of my rare-as-hen's-teeth CD. Hopefully I can sell some up Flagstaff way.


I saw this bumper sticker and it cracked me up (this is a song title if'n ever I heard one):



Only five days left to National Masturbation Month. Have you done your part?


Tuesday, May 24, 2005

I saw "Revenge of the Sith" last night, and while it nicely ties the whole thing up, and honestly makes you want to watch the next one, which we've all seen 80 billion times, I still think there's something inherently wrong with a movie where the best actor in it is a computer-generated Muppet.

That said, Yoda kicks ass.

Did anyone else notice that when Princess Amadala or Amidala or Alabama or however she spells her name gets into the ship to go after Anikin, or Anakin or Arkanoid or however he spells it, in the long shot she looks remarkably un-pregnant?

I like how George Lucas decided it was probably best not to let Jar Jar Binks talk. Interesting that the guy got an acting credit since he had no speaking lines.

These first three movies needed a "Wedge." ("Wedge" was the only other rebel fighter other than Luke to make it through the first three filmed movies.) Instead, they get a Binks.

Lots of fighting. Lots of NOISE.

Oh, and Yoda kicks ass.


Shirley Runyon's bellydance store, Shirley's Delhi, is up and running. We had a great time opening it up with an open dance last Saturday.

Note to Shirley: Vincent did a great job at the front table. But you need to coach him on positive selling. More than once, when somebody asked to buy a water, I heard him say (as right as he was to say it): "I don't know why you'd want one. They're not cold." Hey, he didn't know.

Keep in mind that Shirley's store is open every day but Tuesday. If you are interested in bellydance at all you should go there. Any day but Tuesday.


Laura Bush goes to the Middle East! My god, who ARE these people and what are they doing running our government?




Thursday, May 19, 2005

Boy. You don't eat at a place for two years, and it goes out of business. The NERVE.


Just found out Mary Travers of Peter Paul and Mary is desperately seeking a bone marrow transplant as a last ditch attempt to stop her leukemia, which I also just found out about. Anybody got any?


Wednesday, May 18, 2005

This Saturday, our friend Shirley Runyon is going to remedy a needy situation, and she needs your help.

Shirley is opening Shirley's Delhi, which is a rather unique name for a badly-needed bellydance studio and store on the west side of town.

You'll find it on the southwest corner of Cactus and 43rd Avenue. Grand Opening is Saturday. That evening, there will be a huge open dance for all your bellydance types. Admission is $5.

Here's why you should come:

A) Shirley's our friend and we want her new store to be a success;
B) All kinds of well-known local bellydance types are scheduled to dance there, including Jasmine and Morgianna (ultra cool);
C) MY WIFE will be one of the featured dancers;
D) I will be the emcee.
E) You can sign up for classes, which start next week, right there at the good old front of the store!
F) While the location is similar, Shirley's Delhi is in no way at all related to the previous bellydance site on this corner. That one died a horrible flaming death for many reasons, all of which will not occur if Shirley has anything to say about it, which she does and it's plenty.

But seriously, come out and make this Grand Opening truly Grand. If you buy anything of $5 or more before the start of the Open Dance, admission is free.

That's THIS Saturday. Be there. Okay?


Monday, May 16, 2005

Well, here it is, May once again, which I was reminded from something I read is recognized at National Masturbation Month.

I'm presuming by "masturbation," they mean "manual manipulation of the genitals" and not
"Tell the public anything and see how they buy it," which is what we're getting from our government and now Newsweek magazine, which has "retracted" its story about Guantanamo guards flushing a koran down the loo.

Personally, I think masturbation is a good thing. There are some nights (mornings, afternoons, tea times, whatever) when you either don't have a partner, or your partner is asleep or not interested or gone or you name it, when you just NEED to get your rocks off. Be they male or female rocks. Up in San Francisco, they even have masturbation fundraisers during the month of May, where you pay to go to a club and masturbate in the room of your choice with other twiddlers: male/female, male/male, or female/female.

I also know that in this great big world of ours, there are groups of people who hold what are called "Jack-and-Jill-off" parties (clever, eh?), where people bring their lubes and toys, socialize for a while, then strip down, pop in a porno and basically get off by watching each other get off.

Why do I not know any of these people? I would do this in a nanosecond.

Jan and I were having a discussion about this the other night and we determined that among our closest group of friends (which numbers about 20), I might -- MIGHT -- find two other people who would attend such an affair. (She, however, would not be one of them, except maybe to serve as tissue caddy.) Even more bizarre, of these three people, I would be the only male member (sorry) of this group. Which when you think about it is sort of the opposite of what you might expect. Guys are usually pretty gung ho about anything sexual like that, where women usually have to be persuaded. But then, we know some VERY interesting people.

It's not like our closest group of friends haven't seen each other naked. We've had massage nights, jacuzzi soaks, body painting parties, you name it. But sitting down for a nice friendly pud puller? Even imagining most of my friends in such a situation is an erotic fantasy that would cause even Phillip Jose Farmer to say, "Oh, COME ON!"

What do you serve at a masturbation party? I would imagine Cheetos are out. Or anything else that might stick to your hands. Some protein, I guess -- meat or beans? I suppose some alcoholic libations might be in order, simply to get people a little loose and make the jokes better when you start MST3King the porno, which in my group would probably start before the DVD was even put in the player.

Before you start the main event, should there be games? Ring toss? Ping pong ball shooting?
So many things to worry about.

Then there's the porn itself. What do you rent? I'm a guy; I like pretty much anything you can find in a porno. (I am even secure enough in my manhood to sit through the rare, but nonetheless occasional male/male scenes in a mixed sex movie.) But what about my co-rubbites? What if they don't want lesbian scenes? You don't want to be reaching for the remote with a lubricated hand to fast forward through the only part in the movie that you rented the DVD for in the first place. So I guess all participants would have to go to the rental store together to determine what to get.

Then there's determining limits. From what I've been able to read about this sort of thing, the idea of a masturbation party is to keep the sex SAFE. So your masturbation party should not turn into an orgy of intercourse. What you determine to be masturbation of course is a field with interpretations of Bill-Clintonian proportions. If your hand gets tired of holding your vibrator, can you call in a friend for help? Can friend use his/her hand on your holy temple of twiddle? What if you have really short arms and you just can't REACH down there? Is it proper to call in the troops to help? Is some oral manipulation okay? Obviously you have to set the parameters before getting down to business because when you're three-quarters up the stairway to heaven you're not going to be responsible for anything you say. Think about it. If you're working up to the point of no return, I could turn to you and say, "Would you like a musk ox to tantalize your tunnel with his tongue while tackling your taxes with his teeth?" and you would say, "OH, YESSS! GOD YESSS!" Of course, not really having any idea what I just said or what you're talking about.

Another thing: How much of the carpet/floor/furniture/chandelier/ceiling/shingles should you cover with a sheet? More women than ever are figuring out how to have those G-spot ejaculatory orgasms, the force of which can sometimes knock over the milk bottles at a state fair game booth.

Well, regardless of whether you do it alone or with your good friends, I wish you happy masturbation month. If you're having a party, invite me! I promise not to bring Cheetos.

Oh, one more aside, as a matter of public safety:

I give massages to people. Most avoid happy town, but there are times when "full-body massage" means exactly that. When the subject is female, it is a good idea to use a water-soluble, silicon-based lubricant rather than a vegetable-based one on sensitive areas. (On a guy, you can use whatever you want, short of Pennzoil.)

Now, let me stress -- AND I CAN NOT STRESS THIS ENOUGH -- under NO circumstances, NONE, should you ever use a water-soluble silicon-based lubricant to massage somebody's feet. I speak from personal experience. This stuff is major slippery. Lots of fun in the right areas. But on the bottom of your feet, application of this stuff is going to make you the unintentional subject of the finest slapstick performance your friends and family will ever see.

One night, my feet hurt. So I grabbed above mentioned lubricant -- not thinking about the possible consequences, and rubbed it into my feet as best I could. When it didn't really go in, but rather made my soles rather slippy, I put on some socks, thinking this would give me traction on the Pergo.


I skated across the kitchen like a bad Chaplin movie. The dog looked me like, "what the hell are you doing?" And Jan still kids me about it.

Just a word of warning. Happy wanking.


Wednesday, May 11, 2005

The Cleveland Indians have a starting player on their roster named Coco Crisp.

Does he have a brother named Rice?

Maybe the D-backs can find somebody to sign named Frosty Flake! Or "Lucky" Charm!


If you think "rock and roll," the image of a guitar comes up. But what you probably didn't know was that quite a few songs that were major hits in the rock world had no guitars on them at all.

Cases in point:

"Na na Hey Hey (Kiss him Goodbye)," by Steam.

Steam wasn't even really a band. It was two guys who worked for a record company. When this song became a hit they had to INVENT a band and send them on the road. This song was thought up and recorded entirely in one eight hour session as a FLIP SIDE for a song that was supposed to be the hit.
There was no budget to make this song; the two songwriter/performers on the track only had what was in the recording studio to work with: An organ, a drum kit and some percussion instruments. Next time you hear this song listen closely.

"Do You Know What I Mean," by Lee Michaels

"Been 14 days since I don't know when/I just saw her with my best friend/Do you know what I mean?" Yeah, Lee. We also know that for whatever reason you decided to record this song using only your big ol' upright church organ and a drummer. Nothing else.
Interesting gimmick but did it result in any more hits? I think not.

"Iko Iko" by The Dixie Cups

This song used nothing but percussion instruments, played by the girls. They were just futzing around in the studio during a break and started to sing this old Mardi Gras song, so the producer turned the mics on. The rest, as they say...


I'm in the middle of watching (as time permits) an odd movie called "City of Lost Children." All I've been able to determine so far is that French people are weird.


Friday, May 06, 2005

Part of my life has closed down: The Tower Records at 19th Ave. and Montebello is gone!

I remember when that store opened in 1977. I remember the first album I bought there -- the three-record "Dirt, Silver and Gold" by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band.

I made friends with the staff there. I remember when they threatened to move out to the point of shipping everything back to Tower's home office and laying off all the staff, only for the building's owners to finally give in to what they needed keep Tower there.

But, I guess as the neighborhood, and the music market, changed, so did the need for a Tower Records. Oh well.


Do women start to look their age sooner than guys do, or do guys simply choose not to notice how old they look?


Have a good weekend!


Wednesday, May 04, 2005

My Zappa Universe show on Radio Free Phoenix got a passing mention in the London equivalent of the New Times: http://www.lnreview.co.uk/music/005005.php


Why do I smell rats a-running rampant in the fact that the day after this Lynndie England character pleads GUILTY GUILTY GUILTY, they throw her case out and tell her she can go? Somebody upstairs has some 'splainin' to do and I bet we're never gonna hear it...

Maybe she WAS just following orders. I've read several reports since the whole Abu Ghraib thing broke that the aforementioned Ms. England is dumb as a box of rocks, and very willing to do what she's told, so...


I have to keep track of these Diamondbacks afternoon games and makes plans one of these days to get "sick" about lunchtime. I haven't been to a day game since 1967.
Cubs and Phillies, as I recall.

No, I don't remember who won.


Tuesday, May 03, 2005

Honest to god I have no idea how to spiff this site up. It's like none of the browsers I have are new enough to handle "Bold" and "Italic" and stuff. I don't even remember how the hell I got a link to Nancy Freeman's site on my blog.

Tip: Yelling at the computer doesn't make it work. Apparently I have to learn html or something. And when I push the "B" for bold button it just spits out mumbldygook that doesn't make my letters bold.

Hell with it.


I don't eat nuts much, except for macadamias and cashews. Not sure why but when I eat your standard peanut or almond I find I'm eating the damn things for hours. My teeth have problems with nuts. I find them hard to swallow and if I don't have something to drink when I'm eating them I damn near choke on the things.

I'm not sure if it's just that my mostly-porcelain-capped teeth don't do nuts very well of if it's some latent aversion that I have to nuts. I was at a party recently where somebody brought brownies; they said they had male and female brownies. I went with the female. No nuts.

For me, nothing ruins a perfectly good candy bar like peanuts. Hershey with Almonds? Yeah, right. Why not stick a razor blade in my apple while you're at it?

However, recently my wife bought a bunch of mixed nuts, cooked them in some kind of magic sauce (mostly Old Bay seasoning and some other stuff) and regardless of what they were, I was able to eat them just fine. Seems like a lot to go through just to get me some peanuts I can tolerate, but I'll take what I can get. (Refried peanuts. Yum yum...)


At my father's funeral last week, a bunch of people went from the church to the graveyard and when we got out to walk the 40 miles or so to the gravesite (okay, it was only about a quarter-mile but the place was packed) I could hear mariachi music being played. Had mom hired a band? No, but somebody else did. Just down from my dad's final address there was a funeral going on for an Hispanic guy, the Mariachis playing away. It was kind of nice.

White people seem afraid to do stuff like that. It's like hey, the guest of honor isn't there to see it, so why bother?


Boy, would I like a massage right about now. It would certainly shock my co-workers.


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