Thursday, October 18, 2007

Salad Days Vol.#28: Ode to the Green Death

Working the late shift, Friday night,
This was back in the Salad Days, 1980's
Room-mate Myk, was taking a hike,
Asked if there was something I would like,
At the Liquor Store, and just what type,
I said 'any kind, I ain't gonna gripe'
If it's your treat, it cant be bad,
Just leave it in the Fridge back at the pad,
I trust you buddy, it'll be good,
But instead of that I should,
Have said, 'Guiness, Pabst or even Bud',
'My pal', I thought, 'was not a dud',
Alas at the Pad, to my chagrin,
In the ice-box was, when I looked in,
A grisly sight to leave me bereft,
He bought me a six-pack of the ol' 'Green Death'.

Ballantine Ale, jaundiced and pale,
Unpleasant, corpulent and stale,
Nauseating bitter tonic,
Pungeant, vile and vitriolic,
Alac to think I could have drunk,
Another ale that hadn't stunk,
A Michelob, I could have had,
Or Miller High Life, like my Dad,
But because I was not specific,
I suffered consequence horrific,
Instead of amber stout so fine,
I had to choke down Ballantine.
So listen up, you young guns,
And don't repeat what I had done,
When your pal is buying beer,
Make your preferences clear,
As for me, I learned a lesson,
And never again, I am guessin',
Even if there's no Beer left,
I'll pass up on the 'Old Green Death'.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

More News about Spice Girls...

...and Daddy shouts Hooooorayy!!!
I'll tell you what you want, what you reall, really want!!

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Vitriolic Venting of a Bitter Old Man...Vol.#1

Welcome to Orono Maine, home of the effete intelectual. College is in full session now, and the happy sound of drunken college kids serenade me to sleep each weekend night. Ah, to be young with disposable income. This must be Karma left over from my 1986 Patriots Super Bowl party.

Anyway, sing this one to the tune of Creedence Clearwater Revival's 'Looking Out My Back Door':
Verse 1
Just got in from the liquor store, shut the front door, yeah boy,
Got to lay down and have a beer on the porch,
College is in session, soon I'll see, I'm guessin'
Dude, dude, dudes walikng by my front door.
College kids on cells phones, free downloaded ring-tones,
They run out of minutes, well their parents buy 'em more.
Fresh faced Co-ed Nubies, Frat boys smokin' dubies,
Dude, dude, dude right outside my front door.

Dude walks by the other day, in a trench-coat dressed in black,
Is that a Mullet or is it a Mohawk Dude, Do-do-do-do-dude?!
If you ask for my opinion, they're wasting their tuition,
Dude, dude, dude looking out my front door.

Hippies. freaks and Liberals all beating on their drums,
Won't you take a ride on my hikin' boot, do-do-do-do-dude?!
Dresse up like Madonna, listenning to Jane Fonda,
Dude, dude, dude, looking out my front door.

Smoke 'em if you got 'em.

Thursday, October 04, 2007

Lookie What I Found on the IntroNet, Vol. #16

Dig this web-site on how to speak 'Hip'. Like, Daddy-O, it helped me a Lot! Now I'm not such a drag at parties, maaaaan.
be cool

Wednesday, October 03, 2007

Joke of the Week: MLB Playoff Edition 10/03/07

Submitted by my good buddy 'Yankee Lover Mark'.
There happened to be an accident the other night on Rt. 2, just outside of Bangor. One car was heading east and the other heading west. The east-bound car swerved and there was a terrific crash, totalling both vehicles. Miraculously, neither driver was hurt. Two men stumbleed from the wreckage and faced each other by the side of the road. Coincidentally, one driver was a New York Yankee fanatic, decked out in Yankee gear, shoes and all. The other driver was a hard-core Red Sox follower, wearing a 'Big Pappy' tee-shirt and a throw-back Sox hat. In the heat of frustration from the accident, and the realization that each was a fan of their arch-nemeses, the two men started in to fighting. However, the cool headed Sox fan finally said, 'look this isn't getting us anywhere. I have an idea'. The Yankee fan agrees, and steps aside. The Sox fan reaches into the back seat of his car and pulls out a big bottle of Jamesons Irish Whiskey, the preferred beverage of Red Sox fans. He hands the bottle to the Yankee lover, who says to himself, 'finally, this is what I call conflict resolution'. He takes a big long swig out of the bottle, smacks his lips, and hands the bottle back. The Red Sox fan calmly and slowly recaps the bottle and throws it into the woods. Incredulous, the Yankee boy says, 'hey, aren't you gonna' have a swig'? 'Nah', the Bostonian says, ' I just think we'll sit here and wait for the Cops to show up, you Alcy'.