So He Went To Camp, Huh?

You know, I had my own idea about where he was going to go....if I were echo, there would really be only one vacation choice.

Postcards From Echo

Dear T, Lulu, and CP,
Thanks to Tenacious S soundly whipping my butt in the Video Smackdown, I decided to restructure my vacation. I enrolled in a Video History Camp at MTV. They picked me up from the airport in a limo, which was nice, but then it got a bit weird. The windows were all tinted, so I couldn't see out. I have the sense that I am somewhere in Manhattan, but am not sure. I was let out in the underground garage of some building and lead to our quarters. They are comfy and pretty funky, like leftover Real World stuff. I have a roommate. His name is Grant, oddly enough. Grant seems OK so far. We're getting along.

So, yesterday the official session began. Yesterday's focus was of all things, stalker videos. I so rocked yesterday with all of my knowledge. See, CP, you were right. Cyberstalking is a worthy activity. I knew almost all of the videos they showed us. Today may be a bit different. Today is 80's Pop. I sure hope we get to watch some Huey Lewis.

I hope you guys have been taking good care of my place. I can't thank you enough for your kind offer to care for The Unofficial. I'm sure it's in good hands. Well, I'm off to video class. I'll write again tomorrow.

*Hugs*

Echo

Needed Some Cash and Some Rest

After last night's shenanigans, we all decided we needed to rest up for the rest of the week. We also found ourselves woefully short of cash after all the par-tay expenses. Hope you don't mind, but we rented the joint out to these nice folks for their jamboree. They've been ever so gracious. Your neighbors are starting to ask questions, though.

Unofficial Songs From the Confessional

Perhaps Echo identifies with the *lovable loser* Huey seems to portray. Ah, the Sunday Hall of Shame.

A Message From Jim- Vol. II

Dear Echo,
You know, I can't get you out of my mind. I've played before millions of adoring fans. I've had women swoon. I have rocked them all. But then there was you. I played my heart out, and yet you stood there, with that smug look on your face. My guitar pleading for your adulation, you still stood there registering nothing but boredom on your face. How could I let it go? Your face is etched into my memory. And no, it's not "Only a Memory." It's my personal hell. "How did I fail you?" I wonder. What could I have done differently? I can only wonder and wait for October.

Sincerely,
Jim

Wakey Wakey! Eggs and Bakey!

Just tell the nice lady what you want for breafast. She'll be back with coffee for everyone in a minute.They do a very nice job with the food presentation here, don't they? very classy. Maybe we shouldn't have asked the hookers to join us.

You know, TenS has always been sort of an Anglophile; do you think she;ll go for the traditional English breakfast? Because, well, it looks like vomit. No wonder they couldn't hold on to their empire.

What's that joke about the two things a guy can't get at home? Would you really want this at home? Really?

Maybe I'll just stick with the coffee.

Uhhhgggg... anyone got any Alka Seltzer?

Wow, the disco party at Echo's was pretty rough. What happened right before the fire department arrived? I was pretty out of it by that point. And who invited those hookers? Or was that Grant Miller and his friends in drag?

Man I feel like shit today. I hope you're able to get those puke stains off his sheets, Lu. Are you even sure they're puke stains? I think the hookers were "entertaining" in there for a while.

And who are all these people still here today? Wake these pigs up and get them the fuck out of here before someone calls the cops again!

And what's up for tonight???

Ummm........TenS?

Have you seen Coaster Punchman anywhere around? I hope nothing happened to him.

Get Down

You can relax, the professionals are here. Now let's get our groove on. Play that funky music! 21 and over only.

HELP!!!!!!

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD< PLEASE HURRY!

Hurry!!!!!

This is possibly the lamest party I have ever been to. I feathered my hair, and put on all this blue eye shadow, and I have on this totally cute new pair of Candies, but no one is here! Seriously, there are like two middle school kids. Are they echo's? Did he leave them home by accident like in that movie? Did they crash the party? I don't know, but they keep hitting on me.

Hurry!

We're On Our Way

We're on our way. Check out our groovy moves! Damn these Jordache jeans are tight. I had to lay on the bed to get them on. Oh well, my ass will look hot when we hit the dance floor. I hope we have enough *snow* for the evening! Screw Studio 54, we're going to Echo's!

Dave's Coming!

Hey TenS, Are You Ready?

I found that 8-track in the attic......
Do you know where the disco ball went?

Bachelor Party at Echo's!

I got to attend my first ever bachelor party last night! We were going to hit a bunch of bars & restaurants in New York, but since Echo's place was available I decided it would be cheaper to fly everyone to his house!

Only problem is, the stripper hotline I called ended up sending ECHO'S MOM! She was a little embarassed at first, stripping in her son's house. After a few beer bongs she loosened up and had a good time. Got a lot of tips, too.

This is an old picture, but she still looks pretty good. I'm glad Echo wasn't there to see it, though. That might have been weird.

RUN!!!!!!!!!!

I think Lulu invited a few too many people. Damn. The party was just starting to get fun. Echo, I told the cops that you bought the keg. I hope you don't get in trouble......

Well, on to the plans for Saturday night! Woohoo! I haven't had this much fun since college!

RAVE!!!!!!!!!!

Sometimes I miss living in San Francisco. Even though I was constantly worried about the meth-addled ravers that my roommate brought home stealing stuff, it was fun to do the fun on rave thing. So I was thinking......This is echo's house, not mine, so who cares if it gets trashed???


So I went down to Clark Street to look for some fun people.

Nice ears!

They looked like fun too.

Look! I found Waldo!

OOOOOO pretty lights!

I did invite a lot of people, do you think they'll all fit in his house?

Dude, Turn It Up!!!

It ain't a party without some righteous tunes. Crank it and tap that keg!!!!

He's Gone!

Geez! I thought he'd never leave! I got a keg for tonight and hired keg girl to make cool beer pyramids for us. Let's see how long that lasts. I'm guessing four or five drinks in, she's not gonna be so neat with the stacking. Tell your friends to come on over tonight. Raging party at Echo's!

A Message From Jim- Vol. I

Hope You Don't Mind--I Invited Some Friends

I think these might be echo's friends. I didn't invite them.

Settling In

Have fun on vacation, sucker!!!

An Unofficial Service Announcement, Vol II

Each year our government spends millions of dollars tracking down and keeping track of sex offenders. NBC and Dateline created a ratings coup earlier in the year by entrapping dirty, old men who wanted to *get with* a 14 year old (note the snark markers, people! I'm giving it all I've got!) This got me to thinking that maybe it was time I helped law enforcement and ruin NBC Dateline's sensationalism in the process. What I found and recorded will shock you.

This intrepid reporter decided to visit the local sex offender database to see who's moved into our barrio - that's spanish for neighborhood. There's a sex offender in nearly every community in America except for Seward, Alaska because even sex offenders aren't stupid enough to live in Seward, Alaska. In fact, there are many offenders in my community. Some are within spitting distance. I decided to put my superior brain power to the task of helping put an end to this scourge on society. What I found and recorded will shock you.

My tools and methods were simple. I used my *eyes* (snark markers again, people, please keep up), the internet, a number two Dixon Ticonderoga graphite pencil, and a Hello Kitty notepad. What I found and recorded will shock you.

First, I surfed to ESPN to check the score of the White Sox game. They were losing to Minnesota 3 to 2. Bastards! Then I visited YouTube to search for some Ministry videos for the next Youtube Video Throwdown with Tenacious S. No Work For Love videos there, though. So, I got to work. I drew a picture of a cute, little bunny rabbit - a cute, little, demonic, sex-offender destroying bunny rabbit with Sharpie Red eyes. It was Showtime.

I examined all of the "perps" - perpetrators for all you poor, ignorant bastards - and I sifted through all of their aliases. What I found and recorded will shock you.

Every offender had one thing in common, and I was as shocked as you are that nobody noticed. Nobody noticed...until now. All sex offenders have.... wait for it.... bad hair. We're talking B-A-D. We're talking bald with a tuft (shave it off already, you're not fooling anyone!) We're talking Cookie the Clown styles. We're talking Jim Ignatowski Star Child bad. Sometimes accompanied by a mustache which ipso facto, summa cum laude, ergo (That's latin, you poor, ignorant bastards) is still bad hair any way you cut it....or don't...cut it.




So, the next time you're walking down the street and you're thinking to yourself, self? That fella's having one bad hair day. You might want to think again. You may want to just tazer his ass and call the cops from a payphone. That would be the safest thing to do. You might just be saving your community if you did. If we round up all of the people having bad hair days, we might just end this problem once and for all. And that's what we call an Unofficial Service Announcement.



Now, back to The Unofficial Site Of Tenacious S... I'll see you kids in a week or so, and remember that Mom always said, Don't Play Ball In The House...

Party at Echo's!!!!!!!! Wooooo hoooooo!

Cool man, Ten-S is like totally blog sitting for Echo while he's out of town! Fuckin' A, we're having a PAAAAARTAAAAAY!

We are playing Huey Lewis at top volume all weekend long!!! Woooo hooooooo! Man is he going to be sorry he left Ten-S in charge. She has the rowdiest friends ever and the LOUDEST TUNAGE!!!!!!

Aaaaaaooooooooooouuuh!

A Message Delivered By The Schrute

Dear Echo's Reader and New Bloggers At The Unofficial,

Just because Echo is leaving the building does not mean that this place will be turned upside down. We have rules here, people. While Echo is away, we will all follow appropriate rules of conduct. What does that mean? you may ask. I'll tell you what it means. It means that there will be limited gloating by Tenacious S over her victory. It means that when Echo comes back a cleaning service will not be required to extract vomit stains from the blog entries. Do I make myself clear?

I will be *watching* you, people!...er... I mean, I will be *watching*, you people! Now, let's all go back to having good, clean PAX network fun, shall we?

Sincerely,

Dwight K. Schrute
Assistant to the Regional Blogger

Since Tenacious S Shared With Us The Inside Of Her Brain... Vol I

Love And Rockets - Ball of Confusion

A look inside Echo's mind reveals that if Love And Rockets is the baseline for what one's brain looks like, Echo's is just one, big Ball Of Confusion....

A Flogging in the Blogging

In the past I have referred to myself as a vidiot. Up until last week, I would say this was a derogatory term. However, having stepped into the Video Smackdown ring with the Massive Echo and come out victorious, I have come to be pretty pleased with my vast coffer of video knowledge.

So today I will strut around victorious and talk smack about Echo, who clearly was not up to the challenge. I believe his pending absence is a week at video bootcamp. Not resting on my laurels, I have agreed to another matchup. Time and date not decided as yet, but we'll keep you all posted. It will be a battle of epic proportion I can assure you. And so now I celebrate on the loser's turf. My prize as the victor!

Shout Out To Grand Rapids

The Communards - Don't Leave Me This Way

The story of the Underground will have to wait for another day. Here's Sarah Jane Morris and the Communards...to kick off the Unofficial Site Of Tenacious S Day....

We Interrupt Our Regularly Scheduled Programming To Bring You This Special Report From A Medicated Echo: Are We All On The Road? Vol I

"The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.."
—Jack Kerouac in "On The Road"

In the news today, it was revealed that Jack Kerouac's On The Road will be published uncensored some time in the next year. I like to think that each of us publishing a blog is a modern day Kerouac without the talent. Kerouac allowed his stream of consciousness to guide his pen through one of the most engaging and controversial works of the last 100 years. Censored at the time of its publication by the very forces Kerouac was railing against.

"Incidents in the original were edited out of the published version because of the censorship of the time," said Sampas, who noted that some of the edited sections refer to drugs and sex. "On the scroll, entire paragraphs are crossed out and not included in the published version."

...In 1951, Kerouac, hopped up on coffee and Benzedrine, sat at a typewriter and began retelling the tale of an aimless trek he made across America. In a spontaneous, stream-of-consciousness burst, he typed on long sheets of tracing paper, taping each finished page to the previous one to form one continuous, rolling text.

Published six years later, "On the Road" won critical praise and became an icon of the post-World War II subculture of intellectuals, writers, musicians and rebels who identified with the freedom of Kerouac's cross-country odyssey and embraced his disdain for 1950s conformity.

*The Kerouac*, a crazed, hopped up creature, sits over my shoulder monitoring every word I type, my blog entries taped together to form a stream of consciousness work providing insight into a chaotic mind. *The Kerouac* taunts me. *The Kerouac* reminds me that I'm more Jack Ass than Jack Kerouac. It stings momentarily. Who am I kidding? It stings continuously, sharper with each inane post cyber taped to the last. Who among us has never dreamt of penning a modern classic? All it takes to do so, afterall, are some incredible or incredibly inflated adventures oftentimes while under the influence of a narcotic or other mind-altering substance. Surely, I have something to say?

I will never write the 21st Century version of On The Road, but I did write Seven Ten Split. What? Never heard of it? You poor, ignorant bastards.

Wherein Your Voice Is Heard! Vol I

It's reader participation time again. This time, I'm letting all of you, my many minion, determine whether or not Gillian Anderson gets back on "the list"! Choose wisely! Your vote is final. (You may stipulate conditions for her re-instatement.)

Unofficial Terms, Vol VI (V is still in the works): "BloggerHaters"

Well, well, well, class. A new Unofficial Term. Today's word is: BloggerHaters. What is a BloggerHater? A BloggerHater is anyone who links to The Official Site Of Grant Miller but not to The Unofficial Site Of Grant Miller. Now, I don't want to use any names here. That wouldn't be very cool. However, a certain OnderWay UrtleTay and a certain UluLay from IcagoChay think it's okay to do just that.

To them, I say, don't hate the Blogger, Hate the game...or something...like...that... Anyway, dissing the Unofficial while linking to that inferior product from [Redacted] just isn't right. So, to show I'm serious, I've written the following lyrical homage to the first two individuals in the hopes that they will change their ways. Can we bring the lights down and can I get a little piano in G? Thank you.

Ulu-Laaaaay
Ulu, Ulu, Ulu-lay
Why you no link to may?
Was it something I say?
No time today?
Oh, Ulu-laaaay

OnderWay UrtleTay
Onder, Onder, Onder Way
You no link to me either, eh?
May I ask, Per Que?
You no like-a may?
OnderWay UrtleTay???

Thank you very much. May your god go with you. Adios. Good night. Lvis-Eh has left the UildingBay...

Am I An Alcoholic? Vol V

Hands on your buzzers and remember to wait until I've finished reading the statement before buzzing in with your answers.

"I named my son 80 Proof."

This Next Video Goes Out To People Who Know People Who Like To Sing Mr Roboto, Vol I

NewObjective Productions- Mr. Roboto by Styx


EVEN BETTER THAN THE REAL THING....

Unofficial Terms, Vol IV: Snark Markers

Sometimes, in putting thoughts into words, intent is lost. Readers are left scratching their heads. WTF is Echo saying? A search for "snark markers" reveals zero hits...until now. Lulu, your days of using *asterisks* for emphasis are over. I'm taking the asterisk back, and Unofficially making it the Official Snark Marker!

Too often, snark goes unrecognized creating a screaming vortex of misunderstanding which often leads to unnecessary conflict. By simply applying the *snark markers* to the phrase requiring *snarkiness*, *you* can help prevent someone from sinking into bewilderment and anger at comments that were typed in such an incoherent daze as to be almost unintelligible! But, add the *snark marker* and suddenly, your incoherence is now *snarky* incoherence - which sits much better with the *anonymous indie hipster* crowd.

Now, there are some of you, Wonderturtle, who think that stealing an Unofficial Term without giving mad props to the creator is the right way to go. My army of lawyers is ready to crush you should you think you have the right to name your next album *Snark Markers* (I would incorporate the actual Snark Marker *'s to give it a level of redundant coolness, if you are actually going to do it!) Of course, a liner note might just keep my pack of legal wolves off your back. Otherwise, you know what they say? You mess with the Schrute, you get the Site Sensei...er...uh...or something like that.

BTW, WonderTurtle, this may be your first appearance in Unofficial Terms, but it won't be your last. Just like O'Reilly shows up regularly as the worst person in the world on KO's playhouse, something tells me you'll be making a return visit...real soon. And I'm not just saying that because I'm still smarting from the asskicking Tenacious S provided me yesterday in the Bad Video Throwdown, Vol I. (Keep gloating, Tenacious S. While you're basking in the glory of your victory, I'm cooking up a rematch of Hasselhoffian Proportions!)

Until then, let's get back to our regularly scheduled program...

UPDATE: Lulu insists the *s are for emphasis in lieu of italics. Doesn't matter. We've taken 'em back!

UPDATE 2: Lulu has taken the Snark Markers hostage. Apparently, I have offended the Lulu-vian Gods and Goddesses. I am wiling to share, Lulu...well, a little bit anyway!

ECHO CRUSHED BY TENACIOUS S! No Eye Of Tiger In Unofficial Land Tonight!

ECHO KNOCKED OUT! TENACIOUS S VICTORIOUS! Tina Turner - Simply The Best Live Top Of The Pop 1989

Tenacious S Knocked Echo down in the third round, and despite a furious suckerpunch employing David Hasselhoff, Echo was NO match for the Tenacious One. Rematch to be determined.

Congratulations, Tenacious One. I will not underestimate your ... bad video knowledge.. again! Until our rematch, I leave you with this homage from Tina Turner...

Echo Knocked To Canvas, Suckerpunches Tenacious S with Hasselhoff Video!

Closing minutes - Echo Sucker Punches Tenacious S with David Hasselhoff - Hooked on a Feeling

Hoff trumps all!

THROWDOWN SHOWDOWN! ROUND 3 Tenacious S vs. The Unofficial

Round 3 - Richard Marx - Satisfied

Love the hair and boxing motif along with dishwashers!

THROWDOWN SHOWDOWN! Tenacious S vs. The Unofficial, Round 2

THROWDOWN, VOL II Mr. Roboto - Styx

Bring it??? BRUNG! Robots, tommy shaw, choreographed dance to this crap...

And Tenacious-S Thought Laura Branigan Was As Bad As It Gets!

Boys Don't Cry - I Wanna Be A Cowboy (1986)


Euro-cowboys, disco beat, need I say more? Site other examples of this bad combination either in the song or video in the comments below for extra credit. I can think of at least two other instances which were equally painful...

Update: Apologies to Tex Lewis if she's reading...

Am I An Alcoholic? Vol VI

Contestant number two, it says here that you are a child of the punk rock movement. How do you think you can have an impact on stemming the tide of global warming?

WTF?

Back to the program. Here's your next statement. Remember, once you buzz in, you must state whether or not you believe this makes echo an alcoholic. Please refrain from using expletives or from commenting on echo's heritage.

"I named my daughter Margarita."

Is This Your Guilty Pleasure? Vol I

Spin Me Round - Dead Or Alive
I know this is someone's guilty pleasure. It's got everything: Pirate patches, scary fingernails, and poor representations of world cultures...not to mention a band that "can't believe this is where their career took them..."

First to ring in honestly gets a Grant Miller Thong, provided Grant's willing to give them away! If he's not willing to do so, well then you get verbally abused by yours truly in the comments....

Nordic People - Unfair Advantage In The Tattoo Market Place? Vol II

Nordic people!!! Damn them... Maybe, in spite of my skin tone and general features, I could pose as a Nordic...or I could say that at one point I played for the Quebec Nordiques! That's it. If I played hockey for the Nordiques isn't that kind of like being Nordic? Huh? Are you with me?? Oh, yeah... It could be my Nordic Instant Cred Card.

"You don't look Nordic."
"Yeah, well, I played for the Quebec Nordiques..."
"No, you didn't."
"Yes, I did."
"Prove it."

Damn you, Nordic people! Damn you!!!!

Maybe I'll just get a study of the Battle of Cascina across my back and claim that it's a lost Renaissance Birthmark and that I'm a direct descendent of Michelangelo Buonarotti...

...Yeah, you're probably right... I better just claim to be a Nordique...

Am I An Alcoholic? Vol V

Hands on your buzzers please:

"My favorite pirate is Captain Morgan."


Is echo an alchoholic?

Nordic People - Unfair Advantage In The Tattoo Market Place? Vol I

After thinking about it some more, I believe that due to the existence of "Norse Mythology" and Vikings and such, that Nordics have an unfair advantage in the cool tattoos arena of life. Not being Nordic, I'm sure Lulu would agree that I am not allowed to get an image of Thor waving a hammer on my leg. No Viking ships on my back. No. Due to my heritage, I'm entitled to either a cat that looks like Hitler or a bunch of guys assassinating arch-duke Ferdinand (yeah, that's right, my relatives were responsible for starting WWI... are you surprised? That's another story...) - neither of which would go over particularly well!

Then again, without the dastardly deeds of my grandfather and his friends, there'd probably be no Franz Ferdinand. With my luck, they would have called themselves The Vikings... Assholes...

Baltimora - Tarzan Boy

T, I used to think that Scandal was the worst evah...apparently I forgot about this gem...

Blogger Speed Dial, Vol I

Did you ever notice that some sites have two classes of links on the side?

I always imagine that the first set is kind of like speed dial. These are the people or blogs making a difference in my life. We should hang out EVERY weekend!

The second group is kind of like coach class (they're not allowed to use the first or business class bathrooms!) If you're a member of the second group, (Or as Paris Hilton might write: If your a member of the second grup...) are you the neighbor who was nice enough to acknowledge but years later I wouldn't have been able to pull you out of a lineup? Dena Zipperman! ...hmmm... vaguely... nope... maybe... doesn't quite ring a bell, but that was soooo long ago...

Then there's a third group that's even more interesting. That's where your link doesn't appear on their site at all, but you know that they have visited you once or twice. We should get together sometime. I think that would be fun... This is followed by silence because they have no intention of calling you back whatsoever. You are the ho they visit - amuse me, entertain me, titillate me...just don't expect me to call back.

There's a fourth group, and they get the free pass. They visit you. They comment. They enjoy what you write. They are also functionally blog-scripting illiterate and rely on the good graces of others to modify their pages. I don't know how to work the fucking remote already!!!

Which brings me to the fifth group - my group. If you're not on the list, it may be because I'm moving to new digs soon. It may be that I keep forgetting to add you. If you're not there... It's not you. I swear! It's all me. I'm in a different place right now. We're just different....

...okay, maybe it is you...

Oh, who am I kidding, if you're not on the list you know it's because I'm only interested in rock'n'roll, trashing [Redacted]'s house, and filling out "The List"....

Am I An Alcoholic? Vol IV

I missed the toilet by a scant thirty feet and three and one quarter inches...

Again, please buzz in courteously.

Photo taken from You Drunk As Hell...

Am I An Alcoholic? Vol III

I ordered from the Jack Daniels Grill selections at Friday's.

Once again, please buzz in daintily in the comments below.

Would you, Could you in a void? Would you, Could you with an android? Vol I

Courtesy of the next great genius, I'm reminded of the story that made the rounds not too long ago of Professor Hiroshi Ishiguro who is attempting to build a female android capable of fooling someone for about "ten minutes". Hmmm... What did Professor Hiroshi have in mind for those ten minutes? Something to do with the "little professor", maybe? Why does he have an unhealthy fascination with building a "female" android? Why not a "male" android? (Intentional misuse of quotes after the first and proper "use" dedicated to Madison Guy!)

So, today's question, boys and girls: Could you, would you with an android?

Am I An Alcoholic? Vol II

I ordered a Daiquiri Sorbet at Baskin Robbins.

Again, Please buzz in courteously with your responses.

Unofficial Terms, Vol III: Pharmaceutical Goodie Bags

As all of you, my many persistent reader, may have surmised from comments here and elsewhere, I've been fighting a nasty sinus infection for the last few weeks. Last week, when I was in the O.C., I had two Clarinex left from an old prescription and promptly watched one of them roll out of my hand across the floor and into a floor vent. Needless to say, I was...pissed. Really jacked. Pissed to the highest of pisstivity.

It took awhile to get an appointment with my doc, but when I did I relayed the horror of that moment. He asked me what I did after that happened. It was at that point that I added to this physician's lexicon the phrase: Pharmaceutical Goodie Bag. As in:

"I got home and searched high and fucking low for some fucking Clarinex but all I could find in my fucking pharmaceutical goodie bag were decongestants that contained fucking pseudo-ephedryn which makes my fucking heart race like Beavis popping greenies!"

As I left his office, I heard him mention this phrase to his nurse who replied, "OMG, that is so perfect!" I would've replied, "OMG, you are soooo fucking tripping..."

Who says you can't learn anything by surfing over to The Unofficial...

Am I An Alcoholic? Vol I

New game here at The Unofficial (and no, I am not an alcoholic...) wherein we examine a particular behaviour and determine whether or not it might be indicative of an alcohol problem. So, let's play Am I An Alchoholic...

"I bought Pina Colada yogurt at the grocery store."

Please buzz in with your answers!

Lulu's Tattoo, Dan O'Connor, And My Fear Of Permanence... Vol I

First off, I hate you, Lulu. Don't get me wrong, I've greatly appreciated your cyber-stalkage. Then I saw your tattoo and your explanation. Now, I'm sitting here squaring off with my fear of permanence saying, "Lulu got it right! She had a reason! While, Echo, you...just want a tattoo..." Uggh.

Perhaps, I'll start with a tattoo the size of a postage stamp hidden away in some nether recess for the sole purpose of discovering whether or not I'm capable of making this type of a commitment to a tattoo. It's not like a pair of shoes or a car or even a house for that matter. You can grow tired of those and get new ones. The best you can hope for with a tattoo is to have some giant, half-wookie/half-artist creature attempt to alter your poor decision into something more tolerable.

I think back to that guy, Dan O'Connor circa November 1995 who loved Notre Dame so much he got a tattoo to reflect his love and loyalty. The leprechaun was there. The "Notre Dame" was there. And there too was "The Fighing Irish"... Let me run that by you one more time: The Fighing Irish! Apparently, his tattoo artist was not a spelling bee champ nor did he ever pass a spelling class evidently. Left without a "t" in Fighting, the man found himself to be the butt of many jokes in his circle of friends. Suddenly, his tattoo was not available for public viewing and the tattoo parlor was sued. And, let's face it, few tattoos are meant to be hidden far, far away. From US News & World Report (last paragraph):

"I can't just live with this. You're not talking about a dented car where you can get another one ... you're talking about flesh." DAN O'CONNOR, a rabid Notre Dame fan, who is suing a New Jersey tattoo parlor for mistakenly spelling "Fighing Irish" on his arm.

I worry that if I were to follow Grant Miller's suggestion, I'd depart the local tattoo emporium with: Tug Life across my back in Gothic Lettering...

What Scares Your Child The Most?

I received a message from some concerned individuals who run parentcenter.com that included a poll asking: What scares your child the most? The available responses included: Haircuts and Nail Trimming, Loud noises (such as a vacuum cleaner or a toilet flushing automatically), Dogs or other animals, Monsters or the dark, Being alone, Nothing, or Other.

Now, if you selected anything other than "Other" then your child is obviously either reaaaaaaally fucking stupid or you have one shallow, self-absorbed child.

Where was Global Warming and Escalating Violence in the Middle East? Economic collapse due to interest-only loans, the Fannie Mae scandal, and tax cuts for the rich? Election tampering, law breaking presidents, and corrupt politicians? Apparently my kids are smarter than yours. You poor, ignorant bastards...

A Solution For The Tattoo and The List?? Vol I

So, I've got an idea that will marry my two latest obsessions: the potential tattoo and the list. It works like this. I will create a list comprised of ten celebrities that are list worthy. I will then get their names tattood on my body. Then, if I happen to run into one of them, I can show them where I tattood their name on my body. This will no doubt have the extra bonus effect of articulating permanent devotion to said celebrity thereby increasing the odds that I will be able to coerce said list-worthy celebrity into taking part in "a date"...

For example: above is the tattoo I would get if I were trying to bag a Flintstone!

Foolproof! You poor, ignorant bastards...

The Best Things That Have Ever Happened To Me, Vol. VI

What: I lit my friend on fire with a flaming rum shot.

When: 1986

Where: Northern Illinois University.

The Story: "I'll drink anything, you fuckers!!!" my friend Jim yelled. "Drink this," I shouted back handing him a flaming rum shot. He promptly threw the drink back, getting only part of the shot in his mouth, singing his eyebrows off and lighting part of himself on fire for a brief minute. Consequently, he never spoke to me again - hence, the reason it's one of the best things that have ever happened to me. I probably would've died a painful, horrible death if we had stayed friends what with my recklessness and his stupidity. Who wants to be friends with someone who doesn't know how to drink a flaming rum shot? Asshole.

The Wise and Venerable Site Sensei Says...

Dear Gentle Reader,

I have given up my quest to find a Brazilian who knows how to wax. I will now redouble my efforts towards finding a Mongolian who knows how to Barbecue.

The Wise and Venerable Site Sensei Says...

Ozu!

Stamp Of Approval, Vol LCXVI (Threw you for a loop with that one, hells yeah!)

Tattoos and piercings are a mark of individuality in our culture. Like one of my plethora of reader, I have no tattoos, which is really kind of amazing considering the way I lived much of my life. I had a handful of multi-colored mohawks in my youth, I performed improv for a stretch in my life, and I'm generally unafraid of standing out in a crowd as friends of mine would attest. So, if sticking out in a crowd isn't a problem, how the hell did I miss out on the tattoo and piercing train? In a word: Permanence. My ever-shifting approach to life is not conducive to permanent markup on the personal biology. I am fickle and my tastes evolve. The tattoo I love today, I may end up regretting months/years later.

Over the last couple of years I have considered adding a piece of body art. Where should I get the tattoo? Should it contain words, what are they? Should I forgo the tat and just go with a piercing? This is your chance to have a hand in a work of art. If I lose interest, nothing may come of it. If I follow through, it may be your hand that's involved.

Thoughts? Personally, I think getting: GRANT MILLER IS MASSIVE! as a tramp stamp isn't the look for which I am aiming....then again I could be wrong...

Beer Drinkers: Beeritarians? Or just fucking alcoholics? Vol I

As Grant Miller slowly kills himself with booze and heroin pretending to be the rock'n'roll literary equivalent of Courtney Love baring his breasts for anyone willing to drop a nickel for his tawdry blog peepshow, I feel it's time to address one of the types of comments that seem to abound on this site and at Coaster Punchman's Scandalous World of Cheap Thrills: Beer.

Now, I know over at CP's World the discussion of Fruititarians led to a discussion on Ovo-Lacto-Pesco-Carne-Vegetarians (That's a technical term, boys and girls, let's not throw it around!) This nomenclature fails to honor the other half of the world's diet - herbivores and carnivores unite on this one front: the ingestion of fermented liquids for the expressed, scientific purpose of getting totally fucking wasted...or just buzzed.

Long maligned and overlooked as a major food group, beer as it's known here in the States (you poor ignorant reader from the UK just don't have a clue, do you?) has long been a staple of the uber-brainiac, the uber-athlete... and the uber-asshole. A uniting force, beer satiates the appetite of the snob (Stella Artois, anyone?) as well as the Grant Millers of the world (Miller Lite, redneck hipsters?) who are mixing up a cocktail of disastrous consequences that even Judy Garland wouldn't be able to handle were she alive....or George Peppard for that matter.

Okay, so I'm not a licensed dietician - hell, I'm barely licensed to drive - but I know the secret elixir of the gods almost certainly involved hoppy goodness. Hops, so-named after Michael Jordan was spotted drinking a beer following one of the Chicago Bulls' many championships, is a basic staple that everyone should consider as necessary for a healthy, positive mental outlook, first in dealing with parental units who obviously don't have a fucking clue and later to deal with children who obviously don't have a fucking clue. See, it's karma.

Now, go drink a beer and if you're [Redacted], please do us all a favor, and hurry up with the drinking of yourself into oblivion! This isn't Leaving Las Vegas. We don't have four hours to wait for the inevitable. Like Veruca Salt, we need it now!!! We all know by now that you, Grant Miller, are an anonymous indie hipster loving, baby-wipe carrying, cheerleader ogling, step-father hating, mama's boy drinking yourself to death...and I say that with all of the love and affection I can muster....but for the love of god, please hurry up!!!

In the meantime, I'm gonna bring my brand of rock'n'fuckin'roll over to The Official for a week. Who wants to help me trash the joint??

A Clue?????? Nahhhhhhh Just An Open Thread or Excuse To Show A Video Vol I

Kristin Hersh - Echo

New Theme Song here at The Unofficial...

I crave an empty lifestyle
I crave the very loudest sound
I'm chasing everybody
I'm shaking everybody down
Do you hear the loudest sound?
And you and me in the echo?

Ask A Thera-Blog-A-Pist.... Vol I

Like Bob Newhart, I once worked in radio, television, and film. Also like Mr. Newhart, who once played a therapist on TV, I have no credentials for dispensing any advice of any kind. But, I have a Bachelor's degree...in SCIENCE!

I am, however, willing to share the sum of my knowledge from DAYS of counseling people in need. For example, when a friend was whining about losing his girlfriend, I wrote the following:

OMG, you are so fucking pathetic! Will you please grow a pair. It's embarassing, already. My god, how long are you going sit there and whine?? You're clearly stuck in one of the many stages of grief - the pussy stage.

Or the time a friend of mine believed that her husband was having an affair? My answer?

Set up a bunch of webcameras by cutting open your kid's stuffed animals and replacing their eyeballs with cameras. Then when he gets busy we'll use a motion detector to start webcasting. Then the video starts rolling and the whole world will see his itty, bitty, teeny weeny, shriveled little, short, short man... Then you turn it into a quicktime movie and clean out his bank account. Only then will the healing begin.

I got that idea from the Showtime series, Weeds. In my opinion, a good thera-blog-a-pist knows when to steal a good idea! Don't you agree?

So, feel free to request free advice from someone who has no license to do so! Echo is here to help...besides, I'm down with OPP (Other People's Problems) as it makes me feel superior. You poor, ignorant bastards...

People Grant Miller Looks More Than Vaguely Like... Vol I

Now, [Redacted] is claiming that he looks like or may be George Peppard! Are you kidding me??

So, here's what we're going to do. Let's go over to Grant Miller's House of Horrors and remind him that he's more Ruth Buzzi than George Peppard...

I love it when a plan comes together....

Questions of the Universe: Or Ramblings of a Random Blogger Vol VII (That's 7 for you illiterate types...)

Garbage featuring Shirley Manson - When I Grow Up (UK)

Do you think when a celebrity creates his/her list that it's populated with ordinary people? Do they sit around and say to themselves, "you know what? I think that Mary Smith needs to be on the list. I like the way she bags my tomatos..." I like to think that Shirley Manson has a list and I'm on it...

On the list? Miki Berenyi OWNS the list!!! Vol I (Meaning we haven't seen the last of Miki at the Unofficial)

Lush - Hypocrite

Okay...so first off, you people seem to be lacking in the fun and whimsy area today... Tumbling!!! Who can't get excited about...tumblers!!! No sense of fun...

Oh, well. Back to the list! This week Weezer called it quits. As you may or may not know Miki Berenyi of Lush once dated Matt Sharp of Weezer. She once wrote of him in a song:

Blondie was with me for a summer
He flirted like a maniac but I wouldn't bite
I'm weak and he was so persistent
He only had to have me 'cause I put up a fight
Oh God, the boy had such an ego
He liked to talk about himself all day and all night
You think you're such a ladykiller
But you were nothing special 'til you turned out the light
When he's nice to me he's just nice to himself
And he's watching his reflection
I'm a five foot mirror for adoring himself
Here's seven years' bad luck

Miki Berenyi is at the TOP of the list... She's got it all. If you don't like Lush, I...I just... I won't know WHAT to say! This is angry, energetic, rock'n'roll. Miki is sorely missed. After Lush disbanded due to the suicide of their drummer, Chris Acland in 1996, I thought maybe we might see a solo effort. Alas, it was not to be.

Miki Berenyi will always be on the list...

Amy Sedaris, Welcome To The List

amy sedaris on the colbert report


What's not to love about Amy Sedaris?? Here she is with Stephen Colbert...

I'm Thinkin' About My Doorbell, When You Gonna Ring It? Vol I

Yesterday, was a peculiar day. I went for my usual five mile-ish run, did the usual things around the house, and went to take the usual shower. While in the shower I heard a peculiar Sha-chunk! I thought to myself, Gee, that's weird... About twenty minutes later I heard another Sha-chunk! This time I thought, Well, I better check this one out...

Upon walking downstairs I nearly slipped on the wood kitchen floor. There glistening on the surface was a bubble of water. I looked towards the back door. There was a trail leading there. I glanced towards the family room and saw that on the white carpeting there was a muddy footprint. Thankfully, it was a small footprint.

I went out the back door to see who had entered my home. There were at least twenty kids out in the yards playing, each in a swimsuit and each soaking wet.

I flipped on my iTunes and hit random. Jack White came on and sang about his doorbell. "I'm thinkin' about my doorbell ringing, when you gonna ring it? When you gonna ring it??" The next little fucker that runs into my house without ringing my doorbell is going to be greeted like a rat in a Skinner Box. So, here I sit...hmmm....I'm thinking about my doorbell, are you gonna ring it? Are you gonna ring it????

WTF is that? Vol I

Sounds easy, huh? Guess what you're looking at. Post your guess in the comments. I'll post the answer tomorrow...

UPDATE: It's a urinal from McDonald's in the Netherlands... designed by a woman...sooooo troubling...It was supposed to be a "fun cartoon mouth" and not a woman's mouth....

The AlternaList

Special Kay, a verrry good friend of mine, has decided that there's no consequences with the list. It's too safe. If someone is on the list, and you can get jiggy, you get jiggy... Hardly a challenge from SK's perspective. Hence SK was very proud to describe for me The AlternaList. I guess the Ani DiFranco incident has made everyone just a little uneasy, forcing them to up the ante just in case a real opportunity presents itself...but you'll have to wait for that story.

The AlternaList works like this. Given the opportunity to sweat out the sheets with your favorite celebrity, you are allowed to do so...but only after you've done so with someone - a celebrity - of a gender or sex that you are not attracted to. As you can see there is now a price to be paid for getting jiggy with the hottie of your dreams.

It's trickier than you think. Just try building an AlternaList. For each and every public figure on your list, select someone from the other team that you'd be willing to jump for the opportunity to get the one you want... Does the list suddenly shrink?

Oh, and the photo above? That's Uma Thurman...she's yummy...and on the list...who'd be her AlternaList entry?

How To Get Yourself Thrown Off The List, Episode I - "No Talky"

Gillian Anderson's delicate features, wide eyes, and beautiful red hair vaulted her to the top of the list. Sure, Bree Sharp sang of David Duchovny and pondered why he didn't love her. I tried to write a song to her but nothing rhymes with Anderson. Gillian Anderson, I'm in your pants for sin... See, it just doesn't work.

At any rate, Gillian was the object of my long distance affection for a long, long time. Then she appeared on the Graham Norton Show sporting a Madonna-esque fake British accent. It was painful to watch. Now, I know some of you smarty-smarts will try the following argument on me: She lived for several years of her youth in England. Nonsense. She was an Army brat, if I recall correctly.

I don't know why she did it. I don't think she knows why. Maybe, she really believes that she's affecting an honest to goodness accent and is sooo deluded that now she can't back off of her original claim.

What's that you say? You don't know what her original claim was?

The first time Graham interviewed her, he asked her what was up with the accent. She told him that everytime she travels to England she falls back into her old habits which include "speaking English"... This elicited a groan and cringe from yours truly. Thankfully, Graham was up to the task and followed up with: "Well, what do you usually speak?"

It should be obvious now. No talky. Click on the link below for an example...

Gillian Anderson on Graham Norton 1

The Best Things That Have Ever Happened To Me, Vol. V

What: I returned from a trip to find my DirecTivo had blowed up!

When: Yesterday

The story: I was in the O.C., bitches! I returned home hoping to watch some programs I'd Tivo'd including The Tour De France, Drive Thru History, and Thong Knitting on one of the Discovery Channels. Fortunately, when I turned on my TV, I was greeted by a blank, white screen. Instead of watching the "shit box" (another Unofficial Term!!), I read some more of Sarah Vowell's Assassination Vacation. That combined with my self medication for a sinus infection sent me into some kind of psychotomimetic state of mind. (Did I put Sarah Vowell on my list last night?? Okay. Cool.)

So where did my dreams take me last night? I spent my dreams at Ford's Theater kicking John Wilkes Booth's ass with my major Kung Fu, Wire Fu, John Wu, Wu Ping MAD ASS KICKING SKILLZ. That's right. I was all Neo in the Matrix, baby, kicking some presidential assassin ass....

Would I have done that if my Tivo survived? Oh, I don't think so. [Redacted] would have cried like a sissy...

BTW...the picture above is from last night. How am I looking following the ass kicking I delivered??

THE LIST: Sarah Vowell Is On The List, Vol I

Do you have a list? Everyone has a list. The Echoes have lists. What's the list? You mean you don't have a list of people with whom if presented the opportunity you're allowed to have "a date" with regardless of any "commitments"? Well, Sarah Vowell has broken all kinds of rules associated with the list.

You see, Gillian Anderson was on the list as THE Hottie Hot Hottie...until she appeared on the Graham Norton show (this story will be up tomorrow...) That's when the "no talky" rule was implemented. Basically, it meant that you ignore the more embarassing qualities of the individual in order to be able to have a successful "date" with said individual. It allows the tasty ones to remain on the list in spite of any verbal or cerebral short-comings. It's what allows your "sweet thang" or "hunka hunka burnin' love" to remain on the list. You would never have a "relationship" with these people so why should they be allowed to fuck up your one night stand by talking??? These celebrities are then ranked according to how "tasty" they are perceived to be.

So, what does this have to do with Sarah Vowell? I'm reading Assassination Vacation and have decided that I may finally have found an exception to the "no talky" rule. Sure, according to some of my friends, Bono is allowed to talk on their list because of his voice (which always sounds like he's ready to take a dump from my perspective...), but Bono is to certain late 30's-ish, early 40's-ish women the epitome of European hot. To me, he's a very little man who once had a very famous mullett.

Back to Sarah Vowell, who wouldn't add Sarah Vowell to the list after reading, seeing or hearing her talk about assassins and visiting cemeteries for fun, her wit and charm oozing through every syllable on the printed page... Yummy. She engenders everything that Nouveau Nerd Chic is about (That's an Unofficial catch phrase for those of you keeping score at home.) Sure, who wouldn't want a no strings attached night with the hard body celebrity of his/her dreams (no talky rule enforced, of course)? But to have someone on the list who's allowed to talk???? From this perspective, that's unheard of...until now. Sarah Vowell is on the list.. Nouveau Nerd Chic or not...

So, who's on your list and who's allowed to break the "no talky" rule? Who embodies the best of Nouveau Nerd Chic? (And no, Lindsay Lohan in Herbie: Fully Loaded does NOT count!) Tomorrow, we will begin to chronicle those who lost their place on the list...by talking. NO TALKY!!!!

(Photo taken from Identity Theory.)

Meaningful Encounters I've Had With Celebrities, Vol. VI (That's 6 For You Non-Hipsters and People Who Have Cats That Look Like Hitler)

The Beta Band (Out-Side)


"I tried to write something but the devil knows I didn't get far..."

When: Last Night

Where: The O.C., Bitches

The Story: It's amazing what a Coppola Chardonay, Red Necks, Clarinex, and a sinus infection can produce. I tried my share of illicit substances in my youth, but nothing compares to the whacked out sleep I had last night. For some reason I kept falling in a swimming pool with the Beta Band. Why? I don't know. Was it the beach and a lack of a pen? Clarinex? At any rate, last night I was a member of the Beta Band filming their video for Out-side. They kept calling me The Chosen One. Was this some weird messianic complex surfacing in my subconscious self? Or am I really the one chosen to bring down he who would have a cat that looks like Hitler?

All I know is that the knocking in my cranium reminds me of a tribal drum... Tupac was right. California. Knows how to party.

Only In The Land Of Nothing... Vol I

I used to live in Urban or Suburban areas. Then, 2 years ago I was forced back to the midwest. Everyday there are reminders that I am in hell. Today's reminder was a car with a bumper sticker that confused me at first. If you come at the following message with an Urban attitude it sounds like a PETA bumper sticker... Alas, I was wrong...

In memory of the hunting victims, November, 2004

Of course, it's not about the deer shot in November, 2004. It was about the "hunter gone crazy" who shot some people who came near a treestand he had claimed for his own... Only in hell...

photo from Firedoglake

Limited posting for the next few days...under the weather and on travel...

More Filler, Echo? WTF?

Shriekback- Nemesis


Any band that can work in the word "Parthenogenesis" without sounding like a bunch of douchebags is okay with me!

Update: If anyone can explain this song for the rest of the class, we'll give extra credit...

Oy Vay Video... Vol I

Toto Coelo - I Eat Cannibals

Thanks to Tenacious - S and the Incomparable Melinda June it's gone from a Flashback Friday to a Throwback Weekend. I'm out for the day, but should return this evening with a pair of new entries. Until then... Here's Toto Coelo with perhaps the worst song of the 80s. One question: "Total" Coelo???

Stalker or Just Obsessed Random Ten

Stephen Colbert - Charlene (I'm right behind you)

Over at Coaster Punchman's World, a guilty pleasure music discussion brought up a stalker-y song which prompted this post - kind of a natural fit considering my stalking of Grant Miller, don't you think?

1. Morrissey - The More You Ignore Me, The Closer I Get
2. Animotion - Obsession
3. The Clash - Train In Vain
4. Stephen Colbert - Charlene (I'm Right Behind You)
5. Human League - Don't You Want Me?
6. Duran Duran - Hungry Like The Wolf
7. Corey Hart - I Wear My Sunglasses At Night
8. Rod Stewart - Infatuation
9. The Police - Every Breath You Take
10. Naked Eyes - Always Something There To Remind Me

Echo: What Am I? Fucking Stupid? Vol I

Fifteen years ago while working as a grip on a movie filming in the midwest, I fell for the Best Boy- er Best Girl. Working in close quarters together day in and day out got to be pretty hot and heavy. Running power to lighting instruments followed by backrubs in the grip truck culminated in one long kiss that evolved into many and stretched throughout the last day of shooting. The kiss or kisses extended into the grip truck which broke down on the way back to the production office under an overpass. Mashed up against the cold steel wall, knocking over C-Stands, we gave in to the moment waiting for help to arrive.

Help did arrive - altogether too soon. We had become close friends during what turned out to be a thirty day shoot, but it was obvious that we would never have anything serious - nor did we necessarily want it. We ended up at her apartment, where the once tame kissing continued. Into the kitchen... through the hallway... into the Master Bedroom.

"Wait!" she said.

I stopped. I knew what was coming next and was prepared.

"This is the way it's going to work. I've had many partners in my time, and you should know that."

"I--"

"You should also know that this night will end one of two ways. If we do 'anything' the night will end, the morning will arrive, you will leave, and we will never speak again. Or we can do nothing, and be friends. The choice is yours..."

It was a no-brainer. I paused and looked in her eyes. She smiled.

"I want to be your friend," I said gently stroking her cheek.

We never did engage in the 'anything' that got me all worked up. The morning still came with the two of us chatting the sun up. The coffee? Hot. The newspaper? Devoid of anything interesting. Breakfast? A bagle with Lite Philly cream cheese. The drive home? Long and empty...

We saw each other exactly two more times. I chose to be her friend that night, but then we never spoke again. I hope she's doing well...

Now, go read the title of this post again...



Sunrise photo taken by Bytemark: http://bytemarks.blogspot.com/2004/02/sunrise-on-kahoolawe.html

Virtual Touch My Belly, Vol I

The Next Great Genius links to a site called touch my belly wherein the proprietor of the site has photographed individuals he has encouraged to randomly touch his belly, none of whom he knows.

I am now proud to introduce a new first for Gideon Boomer aka Mr. Touch My Belly: The Virtual Belly Touch with Photo Impression Paint tools. As you can see, celebrity and blogger, Echo, is touching Gideon Boomer's belly...virtually with a badly drawn hand. I believe this is the first virtual belly touch on the Internets. [Wild Applause!] Thank you, my many reader! Thank You!!!

Oh, Hell... Did I Really Say That Out Loud??? Vol I

When: Summer 1980ish

To Whom And Where: To My Dad At Home

Have you ever misused a term or phrase or worse yet, uttered a term or phrase without fully understanding what it was you were saying? Just last week I did exactly that on this website but quickly caught myself once I understood what the hell it was that I wrote. As a kid, every week in the house where we lived was an episode of Survivor as each of many children in our family worked to make it through the evening avoiding a run-in with my then 64ish year old, WWII veteran, immigrant father. We were the dysfunctional version of the Brady Bunch.

One particular evening one of my sisters and I had made it all the way to the 7:45 mark - fifteen minutes before my dad's bedtime - when all hell broke loose.

My sister was standing with her "boyfriend" in the cul de sac near our house when I heard her uttering something that was utterly false in response to boyfriend. I turned to said boyfriend and spoke (in retrospect I should have just stfu!): "Dude," I said, "she's totally blowing you!" My sister turned beat red, said goodnight to boyfriend, and returned home. I followed behind by a few minutes. When I entered our house, my dad was in a rage. "Vore you talking seck-chual tings out to det boy een da ceercle?" "Uh... no," I said. His rage grew as my eyes grew wide. "Uh, Dad, I didn't say anything." "Yore seester said you deed. Do I need to go axe heem vot you sed?" "I didn't say anything, Dad. I swear --" Hold it! Freeze!

See. You thought I'd already said what I shouldn't. But, you'd be wrong. The next set of words that came out of my mouth have haunted me. It's all "Peter-Brady-and-Mom-always-said-don't-play-ball-in-the-house" slow motion. Each word a long, drawn out 45 RPM record playing at 16 RPM. I see myself racing to tackle myself before I say the words that come next. Alas, I'm never quick enough.

"Jesus Christ, Dad. Everyone knows she's totally giving you a blow job!"

Oh fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

There I said it. "She's giving you a blowjob." Same act mentioned and misused twice in twenty minutes.

Snow Job...Blow Job... Who knew they were different? If someone just told the twelve year old me what the fuck a blow job was I would have used "snowing" and "snow job" instead of blowing and blowjob.

I insisted between each smack on my ass that my sister was totally giving him a blow job and one day I would prove it!!! One day!!!!!!

Thank, God, That's Not Me, Vol I

Nuff Said. From the Smoking Gun.