…
The walls were really starting to throb right then; I could feel the waves coming over me. There was a deep humming sound, like the sound of electricity surging through the walls, in the background.
Hey, you! Put down that cheese log and get in here! It’s The Bob Johnson Christmas Special!
Holiday cheers to all y’all. (the opener)
And don’t you look beautiful today. (the come-on)
My band playing Tuesday, Dec. 28 at Subterranean (http://www.subt.net) with Young Jesus. (the sell)
…
Peyote doesn’t kick in like other psychedelics: acid and mushrooms will turn you into a giggling fool within an hour after you eat them. Peyote, however, has a delayed effect: invariably you figure that the stuff isn’t working and that you got ripped off, and then it hits you like a thousand pound shit-hammer. Wammo! Suddenly, the walls are breathing and you’re in the middle of a fire-storm of lights and sound so intense that you’re convinced that you’re receiving the secret knowledge of the universe. By the time we got our tickets for Cirque de Soleil I was zonked; it really hit me right after we got our seats. Then, the place filled up with clowns. I had weird thoughts; you can never trust a clown!
Mister Bunny was originally conceived in 2004 from a pillow-case and a few leather-jacket zippers. I guess I’ve been trying to perfect the creepy stuffed animal ever since.
Displaced Aggression League Report — Playoff Week 1
Round 1 saw our little corner of the world turned topsy-turvy, as the three top-seeded teams and a former champion/perennial spoiler were pitilessly eradicated by an assortment of malicious Cinderellas. In the end, grief counselors had to be bused in, and our League’s brightest and best were reduced to pointing out exactly where on the doll their opponents had touched them.
I am getting used to Art taking me through some fantastic adventures. Just in 2010, I was inside Julian Hoeber’s “Demon Hill” structure at the Hammer Museum, a project that changes our perception of gravity, climbing Doug and Mike Starn’s “Big Bambu” at the Metropolitan Museum’s roof or answering the question “What is Progress?”
It happens at least once a week; I will get a telephone call from my aging father. He’s in his seventies now and is starting to slow down a bit. But he is still as feisty as ever. Even before I answer the phone, I have a pretty good idea of how it will go: the voice on the line will be garbled, semi coherent, half babbling, half raving about some astounding finish to a football, basketball, or baseball game (which of course I haven’t watched). Or it will be a rant about the recent comments by some idiot politician, or it will want to know the best way to change a light bulb in the house.
‘Twas the night before Christmas, 1977, and if some goofball in a Santa suit had’ve walked through…
Sen. Scott Brown (R-MA) should be commended for voting to repeal DADT but his reaction was kind of weird (via TPM):
If she is still there
smoking on the bench
like a movie star
when you are
on your way out
you will speak to her.