So, there was Saint Patrick’s Day… that happened… Um…

5 04 2010

 

The poor deformed individual came out to try and drown his sorrows at the parade.  …the guy in the hat, not me…

Some of you readers may be from Minnesota where Maudlin is headquartered.  So, you will all understand this.  Others may have to take a trip up here to visit.  …It’s really cold here. Really, really, cold.  It may seem odd to many of our friends to the south that this blog has lay dormant for months since last fall- but like the illusive groundhog, I poked my head out into the frigid reality of Minnesota, and just went back to bed.  Like all burrowing rodents, I was eventually lured out by food coloring and crowds of people in dumb costumes.  I’m, of course, referring to Saint Patrick’s day.

Like many of our treasured holidays, Saint Patrick’s day was a total flop when it was first recognized.  But after many uneventful years, the meaning of the holiday was swapped out with the simple, yet effective, focus of complete drunkenness.  The name remained the same to lend legitimacy. You may remember this model being used for Christmas when the celebration of the birth of the savor was not as popular as the celebration of a fat guy who stages an annual home invasion, pilferes the fridge, and makes advances on your mother, in exchange for cheap Walmart toys wrapped in shinny paper and tape.

But, regardless of how things got the way they are- or what Saint Patrick’s was supposed to be about, the bottom line is clear.  At 10 am on a Wednesday morning, downtown Saint Paul was crawling with a hundred thousand people desiring nothing less than to shame their families and defile themselves in every way possible. …and I would certainly never miss a freak fest like that.

It started out like any other party.  I saw a film crew from a Canadian broadcasting company doing a piece on Saint Patrick’s day so I introduced myself.  “Hey, I’m a douche bag, interview me!” …Why that always works, I’ll never know, but they did proceed to interview me for several minutes.  Ten bucks to whoever can find the footage online, because I can’t.  …and, I mean, obviously they would air my interview.

Astronaut marching band.

After that my party buddy, Nick, and I went to the parade to have candy thrown at us by members of NASA.  I don’t know much about what the space program is up to these days, but I’m pretty sure that putting a marching band in a Saint Patrick’s Day parade is a pour use of government funding.  I mean, we can’t even live in space yet, WTF.  Let’s fix that problem, and then maybe have a marching band.

When the parade was done, we walked back to see historic West Seventh street in Saint Paul be destroyed by morons.  I prefer to make Patrick McGovern’s my home base for Saint Patrick’s Day.  When we got there, there were already a thousand people in the joint.  I was hungry and Iron Man Nick had only had some cottage cheese before biking thirty five miles before I woke up… so we decided to carb up on some hamburgers.  Now, on a serious note, McGovern’s is great, and the food is great… any other day of the year.  Every single employee looked like they should have been on suicide watch, and they served my burger on a paper plate with ketchup packets.         …ketchup. Packets. *shudders*

Who would go out with me to almost certainly get beat up? This guys would. Hi Nick!

We got stuck sitting right next to a couple of “hilljacks” -Thanks for the scientific terminology Barb! (Barb Abney, that is.  Barb is MPR’s foremost expert on Ohio- the native breeding ground of the hilljack) Nick and I tried really hard to make fun of them in code that their primitive minds couldn’t follow without getting killed.  …there are no picutres also because I didn’t want to die for a photo opp.  …but just imagine that they were so hilljacky that I had to mention it.  That’s a lot of hilljack.

After the carb up, we ventured up to see all the freaks dancing to the DJ’s very non-Irish set.  This guy was the live of the party, and my goal for elder life.  If I could be one part this guy and one part Johnny Cash, I think I’d die happy.  He’s 62 years young, and he was dancing there with his daughter all day.

Later we made the horrifying discovery that some people were wearing Zubas again.  …Although, one of these girls also had a fanny pack on, so they may have both just been from a group home.

When they brought their zubas closer to me I vomited in the cup

There were a whole lot of freaks there, and Nick and I bothered all of them.  One girl thought that wearing a white shirt and letting people write things on her would be fun.  Boy was she dumb.   Then some girls pants fell off of her butt.  I’m really excited to see how many google hits I get from someone googling that exact phrase, btw.

 

Later, Priscilla joined Nick and I because we still hadn’t managed to get the crap kicked out of us yet, and she wanted to try and fix that.

 

 

We inched closer and closer to the drunk couple making out. It was really funny. ...if you were there...

 

If you like looking at this, also try http://www.awkwardboners.com

Some of you may have noticed that when these pictures started it was very noonish, and in the Green Man picture it’s very bedtime-ish.  Well, seeing as well at to work the next day, we called it a night shortly thereafter.  As Nick would say, “…and cut!”

In Brief:

The Marc Pease Experience. …um… if you pick this one off the self and take a look you’ll probably think.  “Oh, Ben Stiller and Jason Schwartzman in a comedy about a musical? Classic!” Then you’d rent it, and then you’d find out this movie has no jokes in it, but but it does have eight full songs from The Wiz in it.  If you’re thinking, “That sounds good, but I’d rather see Stiller and Schawartzman co-star in a movie where they are both pedophiles” then this is really your movie.

That’s all for now, I changed our cats food, and they’re number three-ing (which is the scientific term for excriment that has both the characteristics of number one and number two…) all over the house, and I need to get my hasmat gear…

David

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“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times” …except for the first part…

2 04 2009

The last month has been so crappy I was ready to change the URL of this site to www.fmylife.com …but that’s already a site.  So I didn’t.  Where too begin… We found that we could fund our dig for another three years if we  went to a theme park and signed off on it with our approval, little did we know that Newman was going to turn off the power grid and let all the dinosaurs lose.  Just kidding.  The truth is much worse than being hunted by Velociraptors

So, like a month ago I cotracted the dreaded bird flu.  I was trapped on the toilet with a bucket in my lap for days, and it totally sucked.  Then, as soon as I got over that, I immediately got a really bad cold, and Priscilla got it too.  The colds lasted for about three weeks until they started to get better, and Priscilla’s developed in pneumonia before it was all over.

THEN, Priscilla was driving our Ford focus in an ice storm and went off a freeway onramp spinning around into the guardrails and our car was completely totalled.  $12,000 worth of damage.  That sucks.  So we needed a new car last minute, and being musicians we don’t usually have scads of cash lying around for down payments… But we were able to get a new car, a Honda Element, which was cool because we’d been thinking about getting one of those for our next car anyway…

BUT THEN stuff got poopier.  Our new Element got broken into by someone, they smashed the drivers side window and hit the door, which sent glass flying everywhere including the ventilationsystem… $1600 worth of damage.  And he stole my GPS that wasn’t even out in the open… so it was a really lucky guess, or they had staked out our car before… So we’ll probably have to move soon too because this place sucks so much.

AND, I just got the flu again.

All this when we really should be paying attention to the radio promo that’s going on for our new album, but we’re not, we’re sitting around in our dirty little apartment which hasn’t been cleaned since the plague struck.  These recent events have sucked both the will to live and to blogout of me, so, I missed a few entries I wanted to do, including the story about how I accidentally kicked a bouncer in the balls.  I actually started that, got done, forgot to save, it got deleted, and I hate everything too much to rewrite it.  We’re supposed to be taping a tv show on Saturday and my hairstylist is out on maternity leave too.  WTF?

I still feel like my butt, and the world has passed on with out the Priebe’s… I have no clue what’s going on.  We’ll have to look into that…

That’s all for now…

David








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