Friday, August 31, 2007

SBL#178 De-obfuscates the Headlines of the Week 8/31/07

Sometimes, the top news stories just magically transform themselves into comedy gold on their own merits. Ands this week's headlines ar no exception. In no particular order, I offer, as SBL#178 Executive Editor, our slant on the news:

What a Naughty,Bad, Nasty Boy, you are...

Gay scandals involving pious Senators from Idaho are pretty hard to pass up, but I think the press has gotten this one all wrong. For some time, as all you good, decent God a'fearin' Republicans know, the Idaho Statesman, an obviously Pinko-Liberal newspaper from uber-liberal Boise, has had it in for the senior Senator. They have dogged him about 'allegedly' being gay and have printed, time and again, outrageous stories implying as much. Well it comes to no suprise to me that the good Senator was framed last week on a trumped up charge of disorderly conduct for allegedly soliciting sex from an undercover police officer in a Minneapolis airport. It's all a big mistake, I tell ya'. Come on, it could have happened to anybody. How many times has this kind of thing happened to you: you are sitting there in a public men's room. You accidentally drop a piece of toilet paper, then reach over with your foot to brush it within reach. You just so happen to brush against another patron's foot in the process. Then, by chance, you, out of nervous habit, rub the bottom of the stall partition, and gently, but accidentally, sroke the hand of the patron next to you, who just so happens to be an undercover cop. That doesn't mean you're GAY!!! Jeez, can't you see the guy is NOT gay and is happily married?! I mean, not that being gay is bad. Far from it. I'm just saying. It could happen to anyone. Lay off the guy!



You Got Another Thing Coming

Speaking of Gay and Famous, we found out this week that Hard Rock lead singer and frontman of Judas Priest Rob Halford has actually been gay all these years. I know, I know. You could have knocked me over with a feather. But it's true. In an interview in the Advocate this last week, the leather pants and leather biker beanie hat wearing rocker came a'flyin' out of the closet on his chrome covered Harly....Wait a minute...leather pants, leather hat...you don't suppose?...Oh, now I get it. Jeez, I have to admit, I did not see that one coming. You don't suppose that guy from the Village People, do you. Wait, how about Freddie Mercury? Say it ain't so Freddie. Wait,... 'Queen'...Jeez, of course. anyway, like I said, 'not that there's anything wrong with that.


Ri-Co Sua-ve!!

Former-Hispanic American, prolific Bush Yes-Man, and erstwhile Attorny General Alberto Gonzales made the news this week as the Bush Administration dropped him like a smokin' hot Chalupe, after he pretty much embarrassed the president by doing exactly what the president asked him to do. The wire tappin', judge firin', Macho Libre of the Justice Department was kindly asked by the President to step down recently and since the whole friggin' administration is turning out to be a total grease-fire, he was only to glad to do so. Reached for comment about how he was treated by the Bush White House, the plucky Texan said, 'adios, sus Putas Malo'!


Di, Princess Di

You know, when Princess Diana of Wales bit the proverbial big one in a fiery car crash ten years ago, my first jaded cynical reaction was, 'who the hell cares about those pompous Brits and their archaic monarchy. Good riddance to her'. As my old pal Johnny Rotten would have said, 'God save the Queen, and her Fascist Regime'... But alas, time has made me a kinder gentler being. Ten years after her untimely death, I look upon the charming young gal from England and her legacy of hope with a more philosophical eye and a softer heart. As my good friend Sir Elton John, aging British rocker and erstwhile member of the Golden Girls would say, 'It seems to me you lived your life like a candle in the wind'... Jeez, wait... I'm thinking of Marilyn Monroe. I was right the first time. Who does care about those pompous Brits and their archaic monarchy.
Thirsty Thursdays
Fall is in the air, and the waning days of summer have given way to the to the calls of Academia. All across the country students are returning like Lemmings, or maybe like Swallows at Capapstrano Island, to bucolic college towns across America. Even here in Orono Maine, home of the effete intellectual, students are returning in hordes, taking up my space in check out lines and making traffic intolerable. And with these students comes 'drinking'. Drinking and Partying. Dare I utter it? Underaged drinking, too. Well, this year Colleges and Universities all across our great land have vowed to curb 'bing' drinking and underaged drinking on campuses. I even read in the Boston Globe this week that Framingham College in Mass. is actually going to start scheduling classes on Fridays to cut out the 'Thirsty Thursday' type partying that students engage in, hoping to get a frosty cold jump on the weekend. Wow, they're really laying down the law! What next? Cracking down on sex on campus. What's left to go to school for? Certainly not the overpriced classes, taught by fat, old, bloated, tenured, self-important windbag professors more intent on their research and hitting on college girls than their lectures. Shit. I'd bing drink too. Hey, kids, you're paying for it, so drink up. Just be a little more quiet as you stagger home from Margarita's when you go by my house. Yo!
So there you have it. Ripped from today's headlines. Fair and balanced! Who says you can't find any good news these days. It's just like Grit Magazine. Peace out!
BFC
(for more 'current events', click on 'current events' below)

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Celebrity Haiku, Vol.#34: Adios MF

No recuerdo,
Te dije que, no sepa,
Adios,tĂș putas sucias.
-Alberto Gonzales

Al, we hardly knew ye, hombre...

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

The Stripes Do Maine

I had suggested to my dear friend John that he and his sister Megan start their official tour of the U.S. (which stands for united states, which subsequently doesn't stand for as much as it once may have). John (who stands for most of the show) agreed to play the Cumbersome County Civic Center on July 22nd in the teaming city of Portland, Maine.
The show began promptly at 8 with Birmingham's own Dan Sartain...at least that 's what the papers reported, as Daddy was across the street pregaming it at Brian Boru's. I did manage to stagger in for the final moments of his act and enjoyed his sounds tremendously.
I know there are a few here who do not enjoy the raw, stripped-down,bare-bones, white-knuckled, teeth clenched, head-bobbin', ummmmmm fist-pumpin' sounds that the kids from Detroit bring, but damned if you can convince me they don't put on one hell of a show.
John and Megan take the stage and deliver the welcome descending-note open of "Dead Leaves" and for the remainder of the show, even though I have great seats . . . I am on my feet. John and Megan continue their high energy assault with rockin versions of "Jolene" "Effect and Cause""Hotel Yorba" and "Little Cream Soda" oh well! By the time they broke into "Slowly Turning Into You" I had already forsaken Mrs. Daddy and swore my allegiance to Megan, John's older and somewhat more endowed sister. About halfway through the performance John turns the stage over to Sis for her signature piece de la resistance.... "In The Cold Cold Night. Now many of you who have heard the recorded version of this song are with me when I tell you the entire audience all held our collective breath as Megan began her moment in the spotlight.
We need not have worried. She nailed the fucker.
Capping off an incredible set with an awesome rendition of "Icky Thump" we slapped our hands together until they came out and played seven more songs for us including . . ."Blue Orchid""The Denial Twist""Sugar Never Tasted So Good"
As the show wound down and I sobered up I realized I had probably better stick it out with Mrs. Daddy and keep Megan on the proverbial "back-burner" in case things ever got dicey with my babies mama. I hollered to my dear friend John "Great show man! Come back and see us in Maine again real soon!" John hollered back...
"Who the fuck are you?"

Tell me what you want, what you really, really want...

...I really, really, really wanna zig a zig ha!

I know I haven't been posting lately, but I knew ol' Daddy would want to get in early on this one:


Spice Girls under pressure to double comeback tour dates
under pressure to double comeback tour dates The Spice Girls reunion tour is all set to turn into a bigger extravaganza than what was planned before, for talks are on for adding 25 more dates to the tour's itinerary, following fan's requests for tickets.Tags:


Please, Jesus, if you're up there, let there be a Portland Tour Date.



Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Song of the Week

As a service to you faithful readers, with the help of my hip Friend Daddy and HypeMachine.com, SBL#178 will now begin posting cool songs for you to listen to, and possibly go out and buy for yourself. Me, I prefer to steal them right off the Intronet, but hey, to each their own. I'll start you out slowly with an old favorite from Henry Rollins and Black Flag, just so's you get the idea. Enjoy 1984 all over agin.

Monday, July 09, 2007

Sufferin' Bastards State of the Union, Independance Day 2007


Sometimes getting old sneaks up on you, like carbon monoxide from a bad furnace you should have had checked out months ago. You just get kind of tired, kind of woozy, then surprise, it's on you like a Duck on a June Bug. Other times it whacks you in the friggin' head like an open closet door in the middle of the night, when you get up to have a pee. It's like,"Whapo', up-side the head. 'Jeez, that really hurt'. How the hell did that happen? I'm old.

Well, it happened the other day that old age hit me up-side the head like it does. I was at our family camp up in the woods, and I was thumbing through an old issue of AARP magazine ( for those of you who don't know, that's the literary arm of American Assoc. of Retired Persons). Okay, it wasn't mine, first of all, it was a friend's. Anyhow, whom did I see on the front cover but sexy and sullen film-star and director Kevin Costner. Now, I'll be the first one to admit that I'm not a really big Costner fan. I mean, there IS Bull Durham, and who didn't love his futuristic masterpiece Waterworld. But aside from th... oh yes, I forgot Dances With Wolves. I liked that one. But aside from that.... Jeez, maybe I AM a Costner fan.... ANYway... In GENERAL, I never thought Costner could have acted his way out of a speeding ticket. As a matter of fact, in a Thespian battle of Wits, I don't even think he could eat Keanu Reeves' dust. But in any case, that'a not the point, is it? The fact that Kevin Costner would be on the cover of a Rag for retired old people made me feel a little unsettled. Then I'm told by my father-in-law that somehow when he was 49, he started mysteriously getting AARP magazine in the mail. It's like they just were waiting for him: 'Hey, you're old. Welcome to the club. Here's your magazine'. It made me wonder how many of my adolescent heroes are now reading through AARP. How about Iggy Pop thumbing through August's issue about what cruise ships give you the best value. Or Keith Richard reading about the changes made in prescription drug policy that may affect him. Or Harvey Keitel comparing the anti-oxident levels in Pomegranite and Gobi juice. Very concerning. Again, let me re-iterate that I'm not a really big Kevin Costner fan, and never have been. It's just an example, a microcosm of what it's like to be fuckin' old. It's like the other day, me and my family are driving into Boston, doing our regular thing at the Museum of Science or Aquarium or whatever. Me and my lovely wife are having a conversation and admiring the skyline of the Olde Towne, and I'm regaling her with stories of how I used to work in this Towne in the Aulde Construction Days, and how I worked on this building and on that one, how I saw this band or that one at a club that no longer exists. It suddenly occured to me that I've told her these stories at least a dozen times already. She was much too polite to tell me, but I know it to be true. I'm spent. I have nothing new to add to the dialog. That's what it's like to be old. As a matter of fact on the way home that night , after a full day in the city, we actually had this conversation: whether Weed Whacker or Weed Whipper was a more appropriate name for the handy and popular yard toolwe use every week (by the way, it's Weed Whacker; you'd have to be insane to call it a Weed Whipper). That's what it's like. Sometimes, it sneaks up on you like a Tele-Market-er when you're expecting an important call, and sometimes it jumps up in your grill, like a Jehovah Witness at the door when you're ten minutes late for work (Wow, excessive use of Simile). Anyhow, I digress. All the fuckin' time....Wait a minute, my Wine is gone. I'll be right back......


There, that's better. Now where was I? Oh yeah, I remember. The other day I was driving home from my hideous, soul sucking job. I see this fat old dude ambling down the road, walking this ridiculous Toy Poodle on a leash. The poor old dude was about 90, and his wife must have sent him out to take Muffy for a walk just to get his tired old ass out of the house. Totally de-masculating. At least I'm not that guy. I may be old, but at least I'm not walking a fucking Toy Poodle. Or a Pekinese. Or a Pomeranian. And I never will. That is my solemn vow. I may be the perverbial Sufferin' Bastard who secretly thumbs through AARP magazine to read about Gene Simmons of Kiss and his favoritre recipes for veal. I may repeat stories about the Glory days to anyone who'll listen to me. But at least I'll never walk a Poodle. A man has to know his limitations, as Clint Eastwood used to say. It's like the Billy Joel song, 'Keeping the Faith': 'the good old days weren't always good, tomorrow's not as bad as it seems'.....Sweet gentle Jesus, take me home, I'm quoting Billy Joel. All Right, this time the Wine's all gone. I'm done. And remember what I said about getting old. Kevin Costner be my witness. Non Illegitimi Corrundum.

BFC 7/2007

Thursday, July 05, 2007

Celebrity Haiku Volume #36: I Gotcha Global Warming Right Here'!


Meet Me in Rehab
My New Prius Fuckin' Rocks!
My Dad's Such a Bore
-Al Gore III

Friday, June 29, 2007

Come and get 'em!

NOW AVAILABLE FROM FLYBYNYT!!!!!

"SpiceWorld, The Best of 2005" simultaneously released with
"Metenoia, The Best of 2006"

While supplies last!

Pretty Sweet Little Story

Here's a truly heartwarming story about the bond formed between a little 5-year-old girl and some construction workers that will make you believe that we all can make a difference when we give a child the gift of our time.

A young family moved into a house, next to a vacant lot. One day, a construction crew turned up to start building a house on the empty lot. The young family's 5-year-old daughter naturally took an interest in all the activity going on next-door and spent much of each day observing the workers. Eventually the construction crew, all of them "gems-in-the-rough," more or less, adopted her as a kind of project mascot. They chatted with her, let her sit with them while they had coffee and lunch breaks, and gave her little jobs to do here and there to make her feel important. At the end of the first week, they even presented her with a pay envelope containing ten dollars. The little girl took this home to her mother who suggested that she take her ten dollars "pay" she'd received to the bank the next day to start a savings account. When the girl and her mom got to the bank, the teller was equally impressed and asked the little girl how she had come by her very own pay check at such a young age. The little girl proudly replied, "I worked last week with a real construction crew building the new house next door to us." "Oh my goodness gracious," said the teller, "and will you be working on the house again this week, too?" The little girl replied, "I will, if those assholes at Home Depot ever deliver the fuckin' sheet rock..."

Sunday, June 24, 2007