I remember going to this site when I was first experimenting with the internet. And when I say experimenting, I mean heavy petting. Anyway, it's always been there to help me through the hard times.
You can do anything at zombo.com.
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Monday, September 18, 2006
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
From Poo in the Fields We Get Healthy Crops
Once I was in a band called The Stoics. There was an excellent classically-trained guitarist named Randy. My bud, Matt, played bass. He, although insane, actually was fun to be around and he introduced me to Lobo, and for that I will always be grateful. There was 2.5 girl singers. I was the baby on the band on drums, and it was difficult, because this type of music (folky slow dirge goth) didnt really have good beats to drum to. But I figured if Steve Gadd could make his mark with Simon and Garfunkel, I could slowly steer this ship from behind the velvet curtain into a land of milk and honey.
I realize now that "The Stoics" is inarguably the number-one lamest band name ever. I thought it just meant "Greek wise dudes" but it turns out, it means something that was never any of the band's attributes or creeds.
We played at a number of places (a small number) and built up a cult following of 3. But we did have some fun campouts. We also recorded an album which I think was called Chest Hair. I still have it and can make it through 16 seconds before I have to empty a shotgun into the stereo. At the time we thought we were all ethereal and deep and soulful, but I can see now that the actual word we were was confused.
Through this band, I met a group of semi-humans named Earth, Lincoln, and Gerber. We formed a band called The Blue Meanies which somehow was harder on the ears than the Stoics. It was more experimental grunge goth. Earth cried sometimes, which would make his/her/its mascara/eye grime run, and he/she/it wore a black lacy dress at all times. We played at the National Guard Armory and poo was never sucked harder than the manner in which we did that night. Following each song was an apology.
These experiences gave me the... experience I needed to one day be the least talented member in an extremely cool band, Stretch Armstrong (later called Stretsch Armstrong, then Stretsch Magnifico, then the New Originals®).
We usually practiced at my house. My parents preferred The Stoics to Stretch Armstrong, since it was easier to talk over a woman singing an ode to Memorial Day than an eight-membered ska ensemble blasting "Charlie Brown".
I'm sleepy now.
I realize now that "The Stoics" is inarguably the number-one lamest band name ever. I thought it just meant "Greek wise dudes" but it turns out, it means something that was never any of the band's attributes or creeds.
We played at a number of places (a small number) and built up a cult following of 3. But we did have some fun campouts. We also recorded an album which I think was called Chest Hair. I still have it and can make it through 16 seconds before I have to empty a shotgun into the stereo. At the time we thought we were all ethereal and deep and soulful, but I can see now that the actual word we were was confused.
Through this band, I met a group of semi-humans named Earth, Lincoln, and Gerber. We formed a band called The Blue Meanies which somehow was harder on the ears than the Stoics. It was more experimental grunge goth. Earth cried sometimes, which would make his/her/its mascara/eye grime run, and he/she/it wore a black lacy dress at all times. We played at the National Guard Armory and poo was never sucked harder than the manner in which we did that night. Following each song was an apology.
These experiences gave me the... experience I needed to one day be the least talented member in an extremely cool band, Stretch Armstrong (later called Stretsch Armstrong, then Stretsch Magnifico, then the New Originals®).
We usually practiced at my house. My parents preferred The Stoics to Stretch Armstrong, since it was easier to talk over a woman singing an ode to Memorial Day than an eight-membered ska ensemble blasting "Charlie Brown".
I'm sleepy now.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
"Dangerously Light-Minded"
It's a privilege to get reviewed, especially from a big deal like Publisher's Weekly. Their sweet review of the new Sugar Beet book gave me some hope that it could actually get some sales. And we got it in time to put in on the back cover, which is doubly awesome.
What's even awesomer is my kids.
Ask me what my son's name is, and where he got the cold cream. Oliver and All over are the answers. Remind me to have a few more kids. He's extremely cute, though.
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