Killer Whales- the dick heads of the high seas

25 04 2010

Killer Whales seen in their natural habitat.

Some time ago, I unwittingly typed my most controversial post.  I said some things the internet just could not forgive about Killer Whales and Neko Case.  As many of you may know, Neko Case is a famous marine biologist and singer/song writer.  Now, I have to admit that I have never seen Neko Case, nor a killer whale up close, however, I did read a motivational book about training killer whales.  I also watched about five minutes of Free Willie II once, so I think I have a reasonable idea of what a killer whale is.  They’re black and white and they swim.  They’re also not actually whales, but part of the dolphin family.  I learned that from a children’s book on sea predators-   I don’t remember what it was called or I’d reference that as well.

Anyway, even though they call them ‘killer whales’ and their scientific name was derived from the name of the Roman god of the underworld, these animals are not considered a threat to humans.   Still, Neko Case calls our underwater pals “man eaters” in her famous song “People Got a lot of Nerve.”  In this horribly titled diddy, she suggests that if a Killer Whale dragged you to the bottom and ate your leg, you shouldn’t be surprised, because, after all, they are called killer whales.  Then she goes on to talk about eating people herself, which is, I guess, a hobby of hers.  I retorted that Killer Whales don’t eat people and that it might have been more appropriate to use an animal that might actually eat a person in a ‘man-eater’ analogy.  It also would be a surprise to most people of a killer whale ate their leg.

Neko Case in her natural habitat

This spurred on a plethora of comments that I was a douche bag to attack pour Neko.  Very few people noted that neither Neko Case, nor many killer whales, actually read my blog- so this is more of a victimless crime.  Moreover, people tried to explain to me that she has poetic license and can write whatever she’d like to, whether or not it makes literal sense.  We are talking about a lady who compares herself to a tornado, and then depicts herself riding on the hood of a muscle car wielding a sword…  So I’m gathered that there was a little bit of poetic license involved. I, however, got the same go ahead from the internet to write whatever I want, even if it offends killer whales or tornadoes.  And, this whole blog is intended to be humorous… and if you’re not seeing that by now, you really need to find a new blog to read.

This is all similar to when people pointed out that none of the ‘examples’ of irony in Alanis Morissette’s song ‘Ironic’ are actually ironic situations at all.  So she either wrote an entire song about a common word she couldn’t define if her life depended on it, or she thought that writing a song about irony using all examples of things that weren’t ironic, would, as a whole, create a situation of irony.  Either way, that song was awful.  She still has poetic license to be an idiot- but it doesn’t change the definition of irony.  Clearly Neko Case is not as retarded as Alanis, and her music doesn’t make me want to stuff firecrackers in my ears, but I’m sure you can see the comparison. Making fun of stupid lyrics should be good fun for the whole family.

Alanis Morissette demonstrating her prowess with the English language

Alanis Morissette demonstrating her prowess with the English language

Now, in the mist of this entirely unentertaining altercation between myself and the internet, some killer whale murdered a trainer in cold blood.  This prompted about a thousand people to tell me that I was completely wrong in asserting that killer whales were no threat to humans, and not man-eaters.  All I can say to that, is that I, myself, do not kill people.  However, if you kidnapped me and put me in an oversized bathtub and made me perform dog tricks for several years, I might kill you too. Now, killer whales actually can’t be forced into doing much, because they’re too big.  So you have to train them with positive reenforcement, and get them to the point where they want to perform.  But, apparently even then they may harbor a grudge and just be waiting for the perfect moment to kill you in front of a few hundred children.  Also, turns out, this particular killer whale was a bad seed in the first place.  He’s the first serial killer whale.  Why they overlooked that on his resume and still let him in the show at Sea World, we may never know.  I seriously hope someone in HR got canned because of this. Also it’s important to note that this actually did surprise everyone quite a bit.  …because killing people is not normal behavior for killer whales.

Regardless of how many people one whale can kill, they still aren’t man-eaters.  Primarily because they don’t eat men.  And, maybe if the song was about man-drowners this whole thing never would have happened, because, as it turns out, that’s much more plausible.  I still stand by my previous statement that killer whales do not eat people.  I also still think that song is dumb regardless.  I don’t wish Neko any ill will, and I do sincerely hope she doesn’t fall off the front of that car she rides on, but I’ll probably never be a fan of her lyrical work. And I think that’s ok.

I hope this clears up any unanswered questions from the last post.  If not, I suggest either talking to Ms Case about the situation, or your local killer whale population.

Sigourney Weaver was Wiley Kit of the Thunder Cats

In brief:

Priscilla and I just finally watched James Cameron’s Ferngully Two to see what all the talk was about.  Sad to see that Robin Williams wasn’t allowed to reprise his role an annoying fruit bat, but it was good to see Sigourney Weaver is still acting.  She portrayed one of the Thunder Cats in the film. All in all our cats and I enjoyed all the bright colors and quick movement, but Priscilla got a headache.

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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





Maudlin Takes Manhattan

5 12 2009


david.and.seth.underwear

Getting things off with a bang! (or a wtf) David with friend and guitarist Seth on the mean streets of New Jersey

This picture kind of sums things up.  New Yorkers are the nicest people in the world, they didn’t even kick us out!  We were invited to play the CMJ Music Marathon, and braved the long bore of the Ohio Turnpike to see what the Big Apple had in store for Maudlin.  Well, it had great food, kidnapings, vandalism, and grand theft mannequin, that’s what it had in store.

Musicians flock to free things like deer flock to ...deer parks.

This is where it all started.  Downtown Manhattan, in some club somewhere, they had created a ‘musicians lounge.’  This lounge had free booze, free food, free haircuts, free massages, and free interviews with Walter from Stabbing Westward.  …So we ended up hanging out there most of the time.

Priscilla has some lady cut her hair for free.

They spared no expence with the accomidations. Nothing was too fine for the honored musicians who had traveled to New York!

While all the New Yorkers we met on the street were fantastic, we soon found out that most of the 1200 bands from all over the world who came to New York were made up of boring people.   As we tried to live it up, they mostly stood in tightly nit groups talking to their own bandmates.  Then one really stupid chick I was talking to tried to argue with me about the size and danger of moose.  WTF?!?!?!

I was telling a story, I could tell she really wanted to hear, about my family camping trip to Superior National Forest, and I mentioned that a big moose walked out on to the road.  It was huge!  We were driving a little Focus, and I said the thing was nearly three times as tall as we were. Then she was all like saying this really stupid crap about how moose aren’t that big, and I was full of it, and that they were like big deer and couldn’t hurt anything.

Well, I had never punched a girl before, and I didn’t think now would be a good time to start, but I really wanted to.  Instead I found the first woodsy looking guy I could- some dude in a wolf mural sweatshirt.  It was ugly as sin, and clearly a joke, but something told me- this guy knows his animals.  Turns out he used to give wildlife tours in Alaska.  They would scare off black bears that had come on to the resort with golf carts, because, as we all know, black bears are the nancys of the large predator world.  He told me they received special training on what to do if you ran into a grizzly while hiking- but if you ran in to a moose up close… you’re just screwed.  I lost track of that chick… but someday she’ll get hers…

Anyway, then Jason drank way too much and took over an entire sofa by himself after a lunch stop in Little Itally where he managed to smash a framed picture of James Gandolfini in his inebriation.

He was like this for no less than three hours, with a hoard of people milling around looking for a place to sit.

Eventually, we found a band that was not boring to chat with, Robotanists.  They hailed from LA, and had a bizarre fetish for mannequin hands. Now, I have to give credit where credit is due- they were the first to steal a body part off the mannequin.  But Maudlin is not a band to be outdone.  Who would be stupid enough to put a bunch of designer clothes on a mannequin and then leave it in a room with musicians and unlimited free alcohol? Yeah, exactly.  We plundered the mannequin for clothes and limbs like it was 1725!

Me and Priscilla with Walter of Stabing Westward

Maudlin is papmpered by local servants

As an after thought to all the shenanigans, Maudlin also played a showcase at the Lit Lounge which was great…

Bars in New York stay open until four, and music only went until one.  The Lit neglected to let us know that the “green room” became the “smoking lounge” after two… So we had all over our gear spread out when hooligans began to flood in all over everything.  Poor Jason ended up getting stuck watching things and was whiteness to several prostitutes haggling with people about ‘jobs.’  Eventually we had to make an escape before Jason was thrown into a deal as a bargaining chip.

We got back to the lovely Wendy’s place where we were staying in the East Village, and I realized I had forgotten the Green Room banner.   Green Room Music Source is our booking agency, which I also now work for.  I was entrusted with the safety of the banner, and I wasn’t about to lose it, so I told Jason and Priscilla I would be right back and I darted out to hail a cab.  It was 3:30 am and I had half an hour to get back to Lit Lounge, but it was only ten blocks, so I wasn’t worried.

I got into a cab and said ‘Take me to 93 2nd Ave”  I think the guy said ‘ok’ in some language, but I’m really not sure.  Pretty soon he turned onto the freeway, and I quickly tried to explain that I was only trying to go to 93 2nd Ave, which was only a few blocks away.  The driver reassured me he know where he was going.  Then he told me he was trying to avoid bar traffic because it was dangerous… (as he did 90 on the freeway, slamming on the breaks several times, very nearly rear ending other cars…) When the drive continued I began to argue with him.  “I’m trying to get to 93 2nd, it’s ten blocks from where you picked me up, this is not the right way!” He finally exited onto 93 street and told me that 2nd ave was just a few blocks away.  This is important.  In New York they use intersections as opposed to street addresses.  93 2nd Ave is in the East Village, 93 AND 2nd ave is in East Harlem.  He pulled over and tried to kick me out… What a d-bag.

Finally, after a shouting match with this guy, we were back on the way to the East Village, and my four dollar cab ride turned into a thirty dollar cab ride.  I was able to get the sign though, so it wasn’t all bad.  It was no surprise to us when we hailed a cab the next morning to take us to Seth’s place in North Arlington, NJ  that this cab driver was also retarded.

Driver: Where are you going?

Maudlin: North Arlington, NJ

Driver: Ok, fifty five bucks plus tolls

Maudlin: Ok (we load in and start driving)

Driver: Where is North Arlington

Maudlin: *le sigh*

Later we realized he had pee bottles in the front seat …if only we had seen them sooner…  But, all and all, it was a fantastic blast of a time! The locals were all great, and far better looking than the locals anywhere else- and therefor better. We can’t wait to go back!

In brief:

I just saw 100 Feet, which is a movie about a successful actress who takes a terrible role in a crappy horror flick just to see if she can do a Jersey accent.  She finds out she can’t.

See you guys later!

David





K-Mart proves they can even screw up going out of business…

17 09 2009

This picture of me is from a recent show and has nothing to do with this blog.  But it's pretty sweet looking, right?  Thanks Mike Minehart!

This picture of me is from a recent show and has nothing to do with this blog. But it's pretty sweet looking, right? Thanks Mike Minehart!

…I mean, just the fact that there are still some open demonstrates that…  It’s like, in begining there was K-Mart and Shopko, you know?  But then came along Walmart and Tartet, and there could be only one!  …or two.   Originally the marketing was simple.  K-mart: We sell utter crap for less!  And Shopko was all like: Hey, some of our stuff is “hip” enough to fool parents into purchasing  it and utterly disappointing their children. Also, the retard step child that no one talked about was there too… Pamida.  And then, out of the blue, Walmart stormed in with it’s K-mart-on-crack, Nazi style, no one sells worthless garbage for less approach.  At the same time Target walks in and is all like “What’s up bitches? Ever heard of advertizing?  I will make your kids think this crap is cool!” Then they all drew swords and went at it Highlander style, at the end all that was left standing was Conor McWalmart and Dunan McTarget.  And then, like a bad sequel that doesn’t even make sense, Kmart kept coming back even though it was beheaded and the quickening had happened, and the Queen theme had played…

But, what actually prompted me to say that was my visit to one their behemoths mid death rattle. All I really want is some lawn furniture. I don’t actually have a lawn, but that’s besides the point. I want to buy some lawn furniture. This guy I know says, ‘Hey, there’s a K-Mart going out of business in Richfield, try there.’ (actually that’s not exactly what he said, more of an example of what someone might say, were they some guy I knew trying to give me bargain advice) So we went out there, and a block away there are K-Mart guys holding huge GOING OUT OF BUSINESS signs.  We’re thinking, this is going to be sweet. Piles of crap for pennies.  This was, of course, not the case.  As previously stated, they can’t even figure out how to go out of business right…

Upon entering the store we realized that something was terribly wrong with this store that had been “going out of business” for a month.  The signs all read, ‘All items 10-30% off!!’  …um… that’s really not that much.  That’s like a sale.  Also, all of the stuff there really was crap. They didn’t just lay down when Walmart entered the ring, they just competed in the wrong area- who’s crap can be more offputtingly unpurchasable.  And, they may have actually won that campaign.  More like ‘trying to go out os business’ sale.

As long as we were there in a store, Priscilla needed to buy somthing though, so she went off and came back with several nail polish bottles.  They were marked at a dollar each.  …but rang up as 30% off two dollars each.  Being the passive aggressive Minnesotan that I am, I didn’t argue, I just blogged about it later.

The Salt on the wound? We were in a K-Mart that was still intending to stay in business later that day and we found some of the SAME items we were browsing at the dying store… for LESS.  WTF.  W. T. F.

Pee on your head K-Mart!!!

What else… we did all sorts of shows and wild parties and rock star crap… it was great.  I have no pictures to prove any of it and I’m too lazy to look now… so it’s 100% K-Mart for you tonight!

IN BRIEF

Ok, lets see… I watched ‘New in Town’ with Renee Zellwigger.  Don’t ask me what sadistic urge prompted me to do that.  But, wow, taking crap to new heights.  It was filmed in New Ulm, MN.  Some hillbilly from there rear ended me while I was at a dead stop once… so there’s already bad blood.  After this… I don’t know.  I mean, there was one scene in the film shot in Minneapolis, and when I saw that I beat the crap out of myself Fight Club style.  If you’re from New Ulm you should probably take the respectable way out of this one and perform the ol’ Seppuku.

um… all for now.  bye!

David





Stuck in a room full of naked girls …again.

28 07 2009

WARNING: HARRY POTTER SPOILERS WITHIN

There are somethings that everyone experiences once or twice in their life; getting trapped in a room full of naked women is one of these things.  I clearly remember the first time it happened to me.  I was eighteen years old and employed as a pizza delivery boy.  I was on a routine run out to St Mary’s University in the mutant little town of Winona, MN.   It was the summer time, probably in July- on a day not unlike this day.

When I pulled on to campus there weren’t any people around, which made sense because school wasn’t in session.  I made my way to the dormitory on the pizza order; it looked deserted.  I rang the buzzer and then waited.  Nothing.  Just when I was going to take off, something magical happened.  The door was pulled open by…  a hot chick in a bath towel.  She was very excited to see me, and lead me into the dorm hallway- and there they were- dozens of other hot chicks wearing nothing but towels.  (I know that many of you already think I’m full of it, but, I’m totally not.  Why God let this happen before the invention of the camera phone, I don’t know; you’ll just have to take my word for it. )

I look a little awkward there... I had no idea how bad it would get.

I look a little awkward there... I had no idea how bad it would get.

Now, the normal reaction you see when some random guy walks in on a herd of feral women running around mostly nude  is pretty negative. Guys, am I right?  But, these where no ordinary feral women.  They were a giant troupe of all girl soccer players staying on campus all weekend for an all girls soccer tournament- meaning there weren’t ANY dudes there at all.  They were like starving derelicts attacking me like I was the dumpster behind a Perkins.  “Oh, Mr. Pizza Boy, came hang out with us!”

“Pizza Man, get your picture taken with us”

“Over here, us too Pizza Inferno”

“No, pay attention to us! Pizza Stallion!”

“We hunger for your loins Darth Pizza Boy- Take us now!”

I’m pretty sure I started crying at some point, weeping tears of joy.  They were all hot like Hermione, and I could tell they were interested in my magic wand.  But then, like always, some uglies ruined it all.

Creepy Miss Hermione trying to freak us all out with her 19 going on 11 body...  *shudders*   -Picture curtesy of the internet

Creepy Miss Hermione trying to freak us all out with her 19 going on 11 body... *shudders* -Picture courtesy of the Internet

“Blarg narg ahooga, Pizza Guy! Get over here now- We feed now!” …I kept crying.  Three breasts from down the hall forcefully dragged me away from the sirens like some horrid high school soccer version of Cerberus into their hellish dorm room. They took their pizza, tipped me poorly, and kicked me out.

Later that evening, another call came in from the same address for more pizza.   I stole the order from another driver, desperate to recreate the magic.  It was no use, even the Half Blood Prince couldn’t have conjured that moment back up, not even if he was wearing his prosthetics from Galaxy Quest! More ugoes had ordered this pizza, and they met me outside the building. I would have to wait ten more years before this would happen again… (foreshadowing)

This is the owl bra.

This is the owl bra.

So, for those of you who follow my sweet band maudlin, you know that we like playing bizarre shows. The more weird the better as far as I’m concerned. (As long as the weird part has nothing to do with the compensation…)

We were asked by Donette, a peach of a  young lady who claims to wear one of our buttons on her lapel, to play a show to help raise money for Susan G Komen Breast cancer research. Charity and flattery both go a long way for us, however, throwing in a boob themed “Racktacular” with burlesque show and an art bra contest really pushed us over the edge.

It was a great show, and things were going well.  We were hanging out, we were talking it up, and then we decided to go into the green room.  When you’re famous you’re probably hiding  there from fans, when your us you’re down there looking for free things.  Sure enough, there were beverages and snacks… and changing girls.

The next girl actually bit her finger instead of the glove and had to go to the ER

The next girl actually bit her finger instead of the glove and had to go to the ER

The burlesque troupe from Lili’s Burlesque were also using the space for their costume changes.  There was a little partition between the cookies and liquor and the area where the girls were getting read for their show.  There wasn’t a whole lot of space and I just kind of tried to not look past the cookies.  Jason snapped a picture of me with the ladies, and then went upstairs to get ready to take more pictures of the art bras.  Priscilla and I sat downstairs in the green room a little longer… which turned out to be a little too long.

Before we had thought about when we were going to leave, it was time for the girls to start.  They all filed up the stairs and waited in line to model the art bras.  The way the club was set up, we’d have had to walk right past them and the stage to get back into the audience, and it didn’t seem like that would be appropriate.  Priscilla said she was going to try it anyway.  She deceivingly said she would go up the stairs and see if there was a clear path and then come and get me if there was.

She went up the stairs and never returned.  …but the Lili’s girls did- and in a frantic hurry.  One by one they came running down the stairs, some starting to shed the little clothes they were wearing as they went.  They went towards the cookies and then came running back with new lingerie on.  I was feeling awkward long before this, but now I was feeling really awkward.  I positioned myself facing the stairs with my back to the cookie/naked parts area.  I was pretty sure that they were all probably thinking, ‘why is this douche still here,’ but I could really find a good opening to run up and escape.  Finally, I mustered the courage to ask a woman sprinting past undoing her bra.

Not sure what kind of bra this was... blue?

My mom is going to yell at me when she sees this one

“Um, can I sneak up the stairs to get out of here, or should I just wait here?”  I’m sure my voice was cracking like Harry Potter’s on a  first date. “No,” was the reply.  …Now, to be honest, I had no clue what that even meant.  I went back to my space on the couch and tried to focus on twittering on my phone. [mrmaudlin -follow me!]  Eventually, it was all over and I bolted back upstairs.  By then it was time for our set, so I went right into setting up.  Ironically, I didn’t even see most of the art bras until after the show when they were hanging up at the silent auction.  …I did see lots of girl butts running up stairs though.

Here are the bars without the hot chicks...

Here are the bars without the hot chicks...

Maudlin played a pretty hot set, and when it was all over we all decided we should end the night at Weber World.  …only Jason had decided it was time to let his dog out to pee.  So, he left the club with the only vehicle big enough to haul our gear fifteen minutes before the place closed and said he’d be right back when the dog was relieved.  So we waited.  And waited.  …and waited.  Eventually he came back and we all climbed around in the new fuselage room until like, four or five.

I have an art bra on too. ...but it's under my shirt.

I have an art bra on too. ...but it's under my shirt.

So now it’s time for a new part of my blog that I’m going to call, “In Review.”  …basically I’ll briefly review several things I’ve recently seen, heard or done.  Ready?

The Talented Mr Riply: Finally got around to seeing this one because Target has it on sale for $2.99.  …This whole movie is basically one giant documentary about how huge Matt Damon’s teeth are.

Harry Potter and the Half Blood Wizard: Hermione still doesn’t get naked in this one, and Harry Potter hasn’t been killed, bludgeoned, or cruelly maimed yet either.  I’m hoping for the best with the next one.  Still, you can’t  really dislike a children’s movie where a goth gang throws and old man out a window to plummet to his death can you?  I can’t.





Lewis and Clark Eat Your Hearts Out!

17 07 2009

Many and many a year ago a couple of outdoorsy guys named Lewis and Clark went from some place out east, west to Napa Valley and back looking for refined wines and tan babes. They had half of the dangers we have in the modern world, yet they lost half their party. Priscilla and I did almost the same thing last week and no one died. I can’t believe they got paid for that and we didn’t. Anyway, (que flash back music) it went a little something like this…

Me in the bad lands.  ...I don't know what I'm doing either.

Me in the bad lands. ...I don't know what I'm doing either.

We wanted to go out to Denver to visit our good friend Steph.   Since the government outright refused to commission us to do this, we decided to pay for it ourselves. After months of foreknowledge of the trip, we started planning on Tuesday night- the night we were leaving. We decided to drive to Sioux Falls, SD the first night. Our friend William Shatner helped us negotiate a deal on a room at the Sheraton last minute, which was nice of him. And now we just had to get there in one piece…

Evil bull that guards the road to the Bad Lands.

Evil bull that guards the road to the Bad Lands.

Looming over our heads was the bat-shit crazy  prophecy of some  lady Priscilla works with. She told her that she has a recurring dream where Priscilla and I die in a horrible car wreck and they also find that Priscilla is pregnant with our first child. She followed that zinger up with several other stories about how she’d dreamed things that had come true, concluding happily that she’s always right about these things…  (I kind of feel like, if you don’t have anything nice to prophesy about, then don’t prophesy about anything at all.)

We arrived at the Sheriton at about 1am and we went to sleep.  The morning had harsh news waiting for us.  There was no continental breakfast.  I know we only paid $50 for the room… but normally it was $129.  I expect breakfast with anything I pay that much for.  But, we didn’t throw in the towel- not on reaching Denver, and not on eating breakfast.

This room cost $90... wtf

Later we stayed in this crappier room that cost $90... wtf

Before we continued on, we need to get a new camera, so we set out looking for a department store.  The rural west is like some national park where endangered department stores like Pamida and Shopko hide from extinction.   We came upon a Kmart in a desolate parking lot.  We were able to get inside before it saw us and ran away.  There amidst the Jacklyn Smith collection we found the stores remaining electronics and bought a camera. CNow wer were ready to face the long blah of South Dakota.

Here’s a red flag questions for states.  Is everything valuable, desirable, or bearable significantly closer to an adjoining state than to the interior of the state itself?  If so, it’s likely that state blows.  Case in point: South Dakota.  (For further examples please see Nebraska, Illinois, or Kansas.  If you are unsure of where desirable parts of your state are, try googling your state.  If you reside in North Dakota, then google the state you’re planning on living in when you move.)

These are the Black Hills

These are the Black Hills

To get to the ironically named “Bad” Lands and “Black” Hills of South Dakota you need to drive through several hundred miles of utter crap.   Rolling fields of nothing.  The only thing to do is just take the car to top speed and surf the Internet to stay awake while you drive.  The best parts of the state lay on it’s meaty west side, close to the frightening Montana.

In the bad lands we took video on our cell phone of me running into a field of hundreds of prairie dogs trying to chase them, but all you can see is my blurry head moving back and forth with lots of ambient wind noise.  I’m not going to include it.  However, I feel it’s important to note that I did that.

After chasing prairie dogs, climbing out the clay edges of the hill things, and purchasing potato chips for an inebriated native who asked us for a ride to the next town, we’d seen every thing South Dakota had to offer. We were ready to get to Deadwood.  Also Walldrug sucks- It just sucks.

We finally got to Deadwood and I won $100 from a dealer who was a jerk.  Which was good because William Shatner was no help with the hotel rates in Deadwood.  We payed $90 for a queen room.  …this was the smallest hotel room I had ever seen; like someone crammed a queen bed into the bathroom.   What’s worse? No continental breakfast.  I was really starting to get irritated by that…

This is a log cabin we found later in the story at 13000 feet.  And ancient race of spider people lived here.

This is a log cabin we found later in the story at 13000 feet. And ancient race of spider people lived here.

The next day we woke up and got ready to go to Bear Country USA!  Bear Country is this zoo type place where all the animals roam free, and you drive through and look at them.  They can walk up to the cars- I even heard that a few toddlers got killed there!  We were pumped.

We exited Deadwood and were back on the open road.  An hour later we saw a welcome to Wyoming sign.  The realization that we’d made a huge mistake flooded over us the same way it floods over most people who find themselves reading that sign.  In our case, the mistake was that we were trying to get over by Mount Rushmore, south east of Deadwood, and instead we went south west and ended up in another state.  Fortunately, the road we accidentally took did happen to go to Denver, so we decided to keep going and leave Bear Country for another time.

Priscilla in Wyoming.  I was looking for my binoculars, and came to the realazation that they were in the car before it was broken into... Great, they took my grandfather's binoculars that were worth ten bucks. I cursed the theaves here on top of Big Sky Country.

Priscilla in Wyoming.

Wyoming is big and it has hills.  Hills kind of vary state to state.  Minnesota has river bluffs, which are steep and cliff like.  The black hills are pretty steep too, but they’re not following a river and there aren’t really cliffs.  They are pretty much all pines too, where as Minnesota sports a greater variety of trees. Wyoming has these really slow slopping  large hills with lots of scrub brush on them.  I know this whole paragraph is really boring… this was the best I could come up with for the five hours I was in Wyoming.

Wyoming people are scary.  This mother and son have identical massive man-butts. ...creepy.

Wyoming people are scary. This mother and son have identical massive man-butts. ...creepy.

Eventually we got to Colorado, and shortly after that we could see the Rocky Mountains.  The looked just like the Coors can.  Denver’s elevation is about a mile from sea level, so they call it the mile high city- not to be confused with the mile high club, which is something else.   We found our friend Steph, and went out for fish tacos- the second time in a week.  It made me nervous and awkward, but I did it.

This a the cake Steph made to celebrate our arival!

This a the cake Steph made to celebrate our arival!

The next day we set out on a mission to cross the continental divide and hike deep into the Rock Mountains. We drove for several ear popping hours west and up. One interesting thing we noticed is that all the trees were dead. Steph’s boyfriend Glen told us that some mutant beatle had been feeding on the trees, and due to global warming, it doesn’t get cold enough to kill them in the winter anymore. I suggested burning them out, but in retrospect I guess regrowing the whole forest after the fact should probably be a last resort. Anyway, I could the spirit of John Denver singing about planting trees all the way.

The cake cutting cerimony

The cake cutting cerimony

Steph and Glen like to go hiking, and they’ve both lived in Denver for years. So they took us to a mountain slope they knew and we stared up. I was pretty worried about cougar attacks because they are on the ‘remotely possible’ spectrum of things that could happen, and I’m on the ‘very much so’ spectrum of paranoid. It’s just like Kurt Cobain said, ‘Just because you’re paranoid don’t mean I’m not after you.’ …and in this case I think that applies to mountain lions.

Hidden Valley, home of ranch dressing, is on the way to the spine of the world.  So is the Coors place, where beer comes from.

Hidden Valley, home of ranch dressing, is on the way to the spine of the world. So is the Coors place, where beer comes from. ...and the whole town is also sideways, it wasn't the photo editing. ...*whew* he he suckers! Just saved myself the 30 seconds it would take to fix that!

I was watching my back pretty closely, and bravely refusing to let Priscilla carry up the rear.  (Is that the correct phraseology for that?  ‘Carry up the rear?’) Cougars, as we all know, like to attack from behind and from above if possible.  Naturally they also go straight for the jugular.  If you see a cougar in the woods, the only reason you’re seeing it is because it’s stalking you. They’re a no nonsense killer.  Not at all like the all too common brown bear, which is known to be pretty much a wuss.

As we hiked, something changed about my brain.  I started to care less and less about the enormous killer feline that was probably right behind me.  I started to feel a little woozy.  My legs weren’t tired at all, but I was out of breath and my heart was beating a mile a minute.  Priscilla must have been feeling the same way because she was complaining even more than usual.  Steph and Glen seemed just fine.  Then it struck me, we’d caught the Rocky Mountain High.

The Hobbit Priscilla on her way to the slopes of Mount Doom with the Ring of Power!

The Hobbit Priscilla on her way to the slopes of Mount Doom with the Ring of Power!

Aside from a pretty mediocre song, it’s also what happens to you when the elevation reduces the amount of oxygen in the air.  Also known as ‘elevation sickness’ and ‘tennis elbow.’  Even though I diagnosed this, Steph and Glen kept right on moving at a normal pace up the mountain, presuming we were pansies.  They’re like the creatures from Superman II who come to earth and find that they have super powers because of the yellow sun and their super dense bodies.  …only it was like the reverse, and we went to their planet and could no longer use our laser eyesight.  It totally sucked.

Eventually it started to get dark. We were at about 13,000 feet by then, only a few hundred from the summit.  The trees were thinning and snow was on the ground in spots.  We were on a clear mountain lake next to the ruins of a small encampment with log cabins that were probably a few hundred years old.  The road to the summit started to switch back after that, so it would have taken too long to get up to the top and back down again before dark, so we decided to go home.  And then, my phone rang.

This was almost as high as we got, around 13,000 feet

This was almost as high as we got, around 13,000 feet

Yes, at 13,000 feet, on the side of a mountain, my cell phone rang.

Phone: *ring ring*

David: “Hello”

Chris: “Dude, what’s up?  We’re watching this video of this old show from high school for Todd’s band, and you were running sound.  You totally suck at running sound…”

David: “I’m at 13,000 feet on the side of a mountain”

Chris: “Huh?”

David: “What?”

Chris: “What?!”

David: “On mountain, reception bad”

Chris: “You want to talk to Todd?”

David: “There are lions here.”

Todd: “What’s up man?”

David: “One ate my hand.”

Todd: “Huh?”

David: “I’m on a mountain at 13,000 feet, I can’t talk”

Todd: “Yeah, we’re watching this video from high school”

David: “I can’t hear anything, I’m on a mountain.”

Todd: “So what are you guys doing?”

David: “I’m on a mountain, I can’t talk Todd”

Todd: “Ok, well I should probably let you go.”

Thanks Verizon, for letting me share that incoherent moment with someone 1000 miles east, and 12,000 feet down.

"Hello?"

"Hello?"

Anyway, we went back down, and no one was eaten. The rest of the trip I had a splitting headache, which I later learned was also part of the Rocky Mountain High.  So, to combat feeling hung over, we went to a winery.  I knew nothing about wines.  I knew they were color coded, and that was it.  The biggest surprise for me was that these little taste test things with wine and cheese and crackers are free.  Free!  Yeah, you go to the place that makes the wine, and they just give it to you.  Then they serve you free snacks.   I also learned I prefer Cabs to Shiraz and Merlot; and I prefer the cheese and crackers to wine.

This is a picture of Mount Doom from the Lord of the Rings movies, home to the dark lord Sauron

This is a picture of Mount Doom from the Lord of the Rings movies, home to the dark lord Sauron

After that we went to an art show, then to the obligatory performance.  Jason wasn’t with us in town, but the good people of Denver still wanted a show.  So Priscilla and I played a short acoustic set at The Hi Dive.  When it was done, we promptly said our good buys to Denver and our friends, and hit the road.  By the time we were edging dangerously close to Nebraska we decided to stop for the night.  We went to this cheap joint that I’m positive several people were had been murdered in.  And, wouldn’t you guess it, no free breakfast.  I could have screamed.  Instead I peed in the courner of the room.

Priscilla and I are playing guitars on a stage.

Priscilla and I are playing guitars on a stage.

We awoke with the heavy weight of the length of Nebraska in front of us.  The first sign we see entering the freeway: DO NOT PICK UP HITCHHIKERS, FEDERAL PRISON NEARBY.  Well.  Ok then.  We didn’t encounter any escapees that we know of, but we did encounter boredom.  Can you imagine if you had to ride through that crap on a horse and it took you weeks? I’m sure that all the stories surrounding the loss of life on Lewis and Clarks trip were made up. They all killed themselves in the great plains.  Again, I saved my sanity by surfing the net while I drove.

Aren't we cute when our brains are depleted of oxygen?

Aren't we cute when our brains are depleted of oxygen?

When all hope seemed lost, we reached Iowa.  We took a wrong turn there and found a car turned into a spider.  …yeah.  We left pretty quickly.  At 9pm central standard time we finally got home to St. Paul, MN.  …and then had to go to work the next day. Puke.  That’s about that.  …also, no one really died on the Lewis and Clark expedition… one dude got sick and died, but sources say it was related to a methamphetamine addiction.

Seeing is believing.

Seeing is believing. ...I think this guy was in the Lord of the Rings too trying to eat Frodo.

David

Oh, and when we got back we found a small pirate costume on our bed… We called Laurel who was appartment sitting for us, and she said she brought it over to try and put on our cat.  …but it didn’t work out because Leeloo resisted.  Well, Priscilla and I had a talk with Leeloo about how she treats guests…

This is Leeloo.

This is Leeloo.





Three show weekends are always a hoot! …er.

10 07 2009

It started out where all great weekends start- Hooters.  I go to Hooters all the time because I love the taste of their wings!  …ok, that’s not true.  I don’t frequent Hooters, and the one time I ate there their food bit.   However, Jason and I were downtown Minneapolis at the 7th Street Entry for a last minute show for the United Way and we were hungry.  Jason claimed that the chili was good there…  I didn’t buy that, we went in anyway.  We ended up getting wings … they sucked.

"Sam"- Professional D-Bag Handler shown in a typical pose, pretending to be enjoying herself.  Me- shown pretending to look at the camera.

"Sam"- Professional D-Bag Handler shown in a typical pose, pretending to be enjoying herself. Me- shown pretending to look at the camera.

Our server, Samantha, (Who was a little under dressed I might add) turned out to be a professional douchebag handler.  …She didn’t tell me that persay.  However, I told her I was going to call her “Sam” and requested that she get her picture taken with me for no reason, and she pleasantly agreed, so I knew something was odd.  Normally I would expect that she would act all creeped out and then spit in my food, but, when I saw her move on to the next table I could tell she had been professionally trained.  The men there were all much older, and much, much more out of shape than we were, making jokes and comments twelve time as lame as anything we said.  And she pretended she enjoyed that as well.  That’s the mark of a bonafid pro.  Kind of America’s Geishas really.  Geishas in hot pants.

So, anyway, then we went back to the 7th Street Entry for the United Way show.  It was odd because it was a 5pm show.  Rock The Cause had asked us to play, when the United Way asked them for help securing acts for their happy hour show.  Also answering the call were The Notties.  It was a pretty standard deal, we got up there and figuratively showed people a little bit of our butts poking out from our musical hot pants.  The crowed figuratively leered at us.  …or something like that.  But, Maudlin was just getting starting on this fine Friday afternoon.

After we finished our set we raced across the metro to the mall in Minnetonka to the Hot Topic for the last in our series of Hot Topic shows we were playing all over the Twin Cities.  If you’ve ever been in a clothing store, and if you’ve ever seen a band play, just put those two things together.  All told, by 8pm we had played two different shows.  This is earlier than  we’ve ever been done playing one show on a Friday night, let alone two.  We decided to celebrate.

We went to Scott’s place.  …and I forget what we did.  I think we went swimming there and listened to the douche from the spare room tell us his favorite vegetable was Cheetos. …I hear this weekend he left a saw on the ground by the pool and Scott stepped on it… Anyway, I’m sure we did some other fun things, and then moved on to the next day.  On Saturday we went to Debuque for our third and final show of the weekend.

Dubuque, a city in Iowa, a state ajasent to several other states no one has heard of.

Dubuque, a city in Iowa, a state adjacent to several other states no one has heard of.

Dubuque is Jason’s home land.  A vintage river town on the banks of the Mighty Mississippi, she sports more idiots on water craft than imaginable, and we were three of them.  Jason’s mom was also turning 60, and we participated in a surprise party.  Our show was at The Silver Dollar Cantina.  The manager, Michelle is a kindly spunky lady who was desperately in need of smokes when we arrived.  I helped her out by running to the oke dokee- some kind of inbred gas station chain- I was instructed to by her menthols.  She smokes them, even though they’re awful, because then no one wants to bum smokes from her.  A wise woman.

Priscilla standing on Jason's parent's house boat

Priscilla standing on Jason's parent's house boat

Our pals in Little Man opened up the show while the staff laid gifts of fish tacos in front of us.  …it was a brave move to put fish in tacos, combining two foods that have the same sexual innuendo attached to them… When it was our turn to play Jason got a little nervous because his mom was there, but she loves him unconditionally, so he lucked out. He also performed a few rare Jason Nelson originals as an encore to our performance.

The following  day we went back out on the river.  Given my track record with watercraft, you can guess that I nearly died.  Fortunately you have to hit something harder than water to cause permanent damage.   Also, urine washes out of swim trunks quite easily, so no irrevocable damage was done to anything other than my pride.

Priscilla eating on Jason's parent's house boat.

Priscilla eating on Jason's parent's house boat.

Then we drove home.  That was two weeks ago I think… June  27th.  And the next week Priscilla and I were scheduled to take a trip to the wild west, which we did, but I need to start a new blog for that…

David

"I'll have the breakfast buffett and a quart of oil" ...only in Iowa.  ...This is a picture from the dining area of Marina Restarant.

"I'll have the breakfast buffet and a quart of oil" ...only in Iowa. ...This is a picture from the dining area of Marina Restaurant.








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