Misty Piss-Stained Memories...

When one reaches certain age, as I think I have, it is a good time to pause and reflect on one's life; to take stock in your journey and count blessings for all the good times enjoyed and the hard lessons learned. And to exploit these memories for a tell-all book that will be your gravy train to Dolla Bill Town. 

This said book will be the greatest book ever written by myself and my heterosexual life-partner, Nicole, who like me also possesses unnaturally long life and the ability to communicate with 3-legged dogs and ferrets. (This is due to the devastating nuclear factory disaster in Collingswood during the summer of 1983. But that's a whole other chapter in the book although I will confirm now that yes, we were the original Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.)   

However, long after we defeated The Shredder in the 2nd grade, Nicole and I went on to enjoy an adventurous life that took us all over the world, to the moon, under several coffee tables, and a few times inside the belly of a magical sea otter that lives in Newton Lake. For example, during a brief period of time, we enjoyed a long and successful career in rock music. Not too many people knew this, since we were always too busy to tell anyone so now I'd like to share with you a little bit of our rock star history from the book. (The entire chapter will include some lyrics, a few stories from the road, and Nicole's diary entry from the day we played our famous benefit concert, "Free Mr. Belvedere."

So without further ado, here are 100 bands we remember playing in and some of the hit songs and albums we've squeezed out so far. We hope you'll stay tuned for the rest of the story... 

1. Asshole Traffic Cop
2. Blackberry Enema
3. Bulldoody Rodeo
4. Burnt Cheese
5. Clucky Chicken's Nightmare
6. Dad’s Haircut
7. Diet Coke and Cornnuts
8. Dirtbag Handles
9. Emotional Bullsh*t
10. Epic Loneliness
11. Falcore’s Bane
12. Fuzzy Rub
13. G-Male (pronounced gee-maal)
14. John Oates Moustache (later reformed to Skunk Anus Moustache)
15. Ass Clown City

16. Jumping for Jumpers

17. Knee Slap
18. Love/Hate Carbs
19. Meryl Streep Can Do No Wrong
20. Moonfart
21. My Memory Card Is Full
22. Mystical Unicorn Poop (M.U.P.)
23. Naked Grapefruit
24. Pack of Assholes
25. Diamond Jelly featuring Lady Gag-gag
26. Period Headache
27. EMO MF’ers
28. Salad Nicoise-Hold the Pasta
29. Satan’s Goatee
30. Scrubbing Bubbles
31. Sit On It
32. Sooper King 7
33. The Bloody Knees
34. The Phallic Fruit Band
35. The Spice Rack
36. The Split-Splats’
37. Trifecta of Pain
38. Troy the General Manager
39. Relax Your Sphincter
40. Pop Yo Collar (formerly Hold the Douche)
41. Pissing Blood and Glass
42. Bud Light Cockblock
43. Ovarian Mayhem
44. I Hate Your Mother
45. Not Nickelback
46. Toonces Can't Drive 55
47. Blue Frizzy Hair
48. Thor's Thorax
49. Soup In A Bag
50. The Scantron Skidmarks
51. Combover Queens
52. Fanboy Sex Patrol
53. Tampon Renegade
54. You ROCK!
55. Asscheek Pincushion
56. Bed and Breakfast Ghetto
57. Cougar Safari
58. Real Mannequin, Fake People
59. Marbled Dimension (Stacy’s solo prog rock ferret concept band)
60. Fiber 2
61. Blubber Bones
62. Not So Speedline
63. Jalapeno Firehole
64. Screw You, Terminal B/C
65. Senor Chang's Marching Mariachi Tijuana Brass Band
66. My Acai Ass
67. Snotrag Bullfight
68. Starfucked Rash
69. Seersucking Sweatlips
70. Toilet Bowl Ring Melancholy (and the Infinite Poops)
71. Gansta Snaggletooth
72. Ground Round Sad Clown
73. Chum Puddle
74. AC Ass Slurry
75. Your Hometown Fucking Fuck Fuckers
76. The Sweater Vests
77. Misadventures of Turtlehead
78. Paring Knife Blues
79. Dusty Shitballs
80. Diaper Toy
81. Dr. Robert Helfond and the Earhole Fuckers
82. eb5 and the age spots
83. Johnny Walker Black Liver
84. Sad Beautician
85. The Chortling Snot Rockets
86. Sad Idea Generator
87. Socrates's Shoe Rack
88. Dead Duck Rice Water
89. Mom Jewelry
90. Crop Me Out
91. Not Everyone Likes Genesis
92. Reinforced Persuasion
93. Dirty License Plate
94. Thin Mint Munchies
95. Bucket of Snot
96. Piss Poor Performance
97. Uninvited Party Guest
98. "That Guy"
99. Gimp Finger
100. Toyota Tercel

TOP 10 SINGLES

"Chapped Lips and Ashy Elbows" (The Moisturizer Song)

"Why are We Always going to you G***D** Parents?"

"Baby, Can You Drop Me Off At the Mall?" (I Know You Are on the Way to the Game)

Stacy harmonizing on "Get Your F****** Cat Away From Me (I'm Allergic)"

"Nickelback It To My Bat"

"Uggs Make You Look Like a Hobo"

"Don't Flush While I'm in the Shower, Damnit!" 

"I Like You As A Friend (You Are Ugly)

"If You Don't Shut Up I'll Eat Your Baby"

Nicole laying down the track, "Wind Beneath my Jeans" (Vince's Song)

"Are You On Your Period?"

"Mayonaise"

"Oooh I Do Not Care For That"

"Relax Your Sphincter" (from the dance remix album, Relax Your Spincter) -- inspired an international dance craze!

GRAMMY AWARD-WINNING ALBUMS

Gum Butt

It Was The Dog

A Tribute to Billy Mays

Be Dazzler!

 

Stacy tearing shit up on Mayor McCheese is a Liar

Nicole writing the soundtrack to Teen Wolf 3 (also written, directed, produced, and starring Nicole and Stacy)

It's Not Harassment If Its Welcome 

Buy it, Don't Buy it, We Don't Care

Revenge of the Colon

Bourbon Bedtime: A Childrens' Album

Horses Are Gorgeous, Aren't They

The Rock & Roll Hall of Fame: Not just a clever name...

Earlier this week I learned that Genesis will be inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.  Usually when I hear any news about Genesis it's a BIG FUCKING DEAL. But when I heard this news, I just said to myself, "oh, big fucking deal."


Genesis deserves everything wonderful because they are the greatest band that I listen to. But unfortunately, RRHOF (said as raaaawwfff as in the sound you make when you are vomiting your spine) is not wonderful. I've always thought the RRHOF was a flaming pile of unicorn shit, and this was confirmed on a recent visit to the museum in '07 when I was in Cleveland* for, yes you guessed it, a Genesis concert. Based on the excruciating 20 minutes it took me to walk through this clogged toilet of so-called musical achievement, it appears that only artists who meet one or more of the following criteria are inducted:

1) Only 3 people (including mom) in the world have the ONLY album or single you ever released
2) You were a part of an obscure blues band that existed for approximately 13 minutes
3) Your music keeps classic rock and oldies radio alive
4) You had homoerotic costuming

So I'm a bit confused as to why Genesis will become a part of this dog and pony show. It's not that I'm against Genesis -- or any band for that matter -- getting recognized and honored for their innovation/contribution to music (Christ on a cracker, they should've been exalted years ago for Vari*lite alone! HELLLOOOO!) but the RRHOF operation is, in my opinion, an inconsistent, mysterious pat on the back that usually leaves me asking "so what?"
 

And "getting in" now feels like a total afterthought or like everyday in school when I was picked last for gym class. Oh let's see, we've already got ZZ Top and Bob Seger...guess we can let in Genesis now, I mean, they've only been making awesome rock music for about 3x as long as 90% of the already inducted artists.

But with that being said, my sincere congratulations to Genesis -- may it spawn the stuff I think we all care more about: live show(s) and MORE MUSIC. (And perhaps 1 more person in this world will buy a Tony Banks album).



But all this sincerity crap aside, this really burns my ass! I'm all fired up like Gabriel in this angry, ANGRY Genesis performance. I would hate to be his microphone!





*Please note that Chris and these Cleveland fans are in The Lady Stabson's Hall of Fame for being so amazing cool and lovely:

Send me your beard!

Long-time blog reader, best-friend, and solid 80's music fan Nicole has graciously shared a fantastic beard with us. I'm talking about none other than Kenny Loggins, who she says -- and I quote because I am going to use quotation marks, "light[s] up my Ipod screen like a lightning bug in a blackout." So true, so very true. Loggins's beard has graced us with some of the most powerful adult contemporary pop this world has ever seen,which in turn has contributed to some of the best movie montages in history: Top Gun, Caddyshack, Footloose to name a few I can remember at the moment. So here is a montage tribute to the best damn beardage on your 80s playlist:

Who wouldn't want to get all footloose up in that yo!

It's the most wonderful time of the year

Aw yeah.

Honey, it’s that wonderful time of year again. I’m not talking about our country’s obsession with putting pumpkins on our front steps or paying $45 to put a live fir tree in our living room for 2 weeks – I’m talking about the power and the glory of BEARD SEASON.

Beard Season is my favorite time of year to be heterosexual. Starting sometime in late October/early November when the weather gets colder and the nights get longer, many male humans will fall into this brooding, sexy melancholy funk that inhibits their ability to shave their faces. It is the ying to the yang of Shelf Bra Tank Top Season that starts at the first hint of warm weather and continues until late September (or continues all year round at any nightclub serving test-tube shots).

I really do love to look upon a bearded man throughout the year, but unfortunately it is a rare honor to see such hunks of pure man-awesomeness during the off-season. Why is this? Does it really keep you warmer during these asshole cold months? That would make sense and of course it looks better than the ridiculous giant loud scarf your girlfriend bought you at the Gap. I tried to grow a beard myself the other day to see what it’s all about but nothing happened. After doing some research it turns out that air drumming to Rush albums for the past 15 years has rendered me an endocrinologic mollycoddle.

Now before I go any further, let me clarify that Beard Season means JUST Beards. Unless you are Michael Jack Schmidt

or Magnum PI

don’t even THINK about it!
 

Shave/wax/laser/chemically burn that bitch off your upper lip IMMEDIATELY.

So far this has been a fantastic Beard Season, thanks to the hotness (well in beard-speak...) in the Phillies post-season bullpen to get it started off right

Although I have to admit this is a kick in the nuts insult to Beard Season

My admittedly creepy fascination of male facial hair that is thinly disguised as joyous celebration is something I am proud to admit on a blog no one reads. And now I also proudly present to you my top 5 favorite beards of all time on said blog; all beards are measured against these titans of the 5 o’clock shadow. It is my wish you will see these fantastic scruffy hot pockets and be inspired to be a part of the magic of Beard Season.
 
5. Chuck Norris
OK, he’s like 87 years old but my GOD his sweet lovin’ Republican beard that can waste a pack of terrorist gorilla bears makes me swoon!

















4. Guy Pearce
You’re like WHO? Yes, Guy Pearce…a terrible actor I’ve had a mad crush on since I saw Time Machine at a $1.95 movie theater back in 2002. Despite having a pretty inconsistent film career (the same guy in Memento was in The Proposition? REALLY?) he has always shown consistent, solid beard performance. He is particularly compelling with the hint o’ beard look shown below.

3. Ray Weston
This man is in the greatest band called echolyn you should worship immediately and also happens to have the greatest voice in rock music today, most likely due to the power of his fucking sweet fuzzy chops. 

2. Phil Collins
Phil Collins is so fucking awesome in so many ways and having the Greatest Beard of the 70’s is just one of them. G-damn I love Phil Collins. If I had 1.21 jiggawatts at my disposal, I would go back to 1977 and crawl inside his beard during his “Cinema Show” drum duet with Bill Bruford.

1. Zach Galifianakis
skjgsfjghfjghskdfhsdfhsjkghf;kghfsjkg. Best. Beard. EVER. Razor blades and Lady Stabson melt in its presence.

Although Beard Season is a beautiful thing that all should embrace, it should NOT be confused with the all too common "vacation" beard or the "I've given up, where are my sweatpants?" beard...these beards can result in some serious side-effects. Please see below.

I Heart Philly Always and Forever

Do you know what it feels like to have Philadelphia throw itself on you and squeeze your heart into a million pieces so it shoots out of every orifice as a rainbow surrounded by butterfly puppies and fragrant flower petals? I certainly do.

Philadelphia came on strong Wednesday night when the Phillies beat the LA Dodgers 10-4 to become the National League Champions, and we have been in a silly tickle-fight ever since. We really can't keep our hands off each other. And in only a few more days we'll be walking hand-in-hand into the World Series...swoooooooon!

But just when I thought Philly couldn't sweep me off my feet any higher, Friday night the beautiful city embraced me like an old lover, whispering "you're still the one" with an evening of music straight from her heart at the place where we had our first date many years ago.

The place was the Spectrum, the stadium where I saw my first ever concert back in '94--The Phil Collins JC Penney's Homeless Tour---and where I've seen many other concerts, hockey, and basketball games before they moved on to the bigger (read: vacuous) Wachovia Center. The line-up was a trifecta of hometown heroes: The Hooters, Todd Rundgren, and Hall & Oates. Featuring an appearance by the Bacon Brothers who introduced said Hall & Oates. And Philadelphia was not holding back tonight: this was the 2nd to last act that will ever grace the Spectrum stage before it gets demolished and turned into an Applebees parking lot at the end of the year.

The concert was great fun except for the part where we thought that Todd Rundgren was the first act and not the second so I missed seeing The Hooters, only one of my favorite bands from childhood. No biggie. Well, maybe I took out my frustration on him a little bit

But Philly and I quickly kissed and made up when Hall & Oates took the stage and made sweet love to our nostalgic ears. It was a delicious homecoming, especially since I was able to share it with Nicole who was listening to Hall and Oates with me back in our Zane-North days. To see and hear for yourself, here is a clip I am dedicating to the 500 people who said, "I can go for that!" when I told them I was going to a Hall & Oates concert.

Although this chick climaxed pretty much during the 2nd song of the set,

for me the night exploded with an extended set featuring all 3 acts declaring their Philly love with some of the greatest songs by some of the greatest artists this city ever busted out: "Expressway to Your Heart" by the Soul Survivors, "Backstabbers" by the O'Jays, and "Disco Inferno" by the Trammps to name a few that I remember. I needed a fucking cigarette after that.

Sigh. This was a night that Philly and I will tell our grandkids about because it was a snapshot of all the things she brings to the relationship; she's like the Spectrum: perfect-sized and a little rough around its honest edges, and like the music that still endures and endears people who still truly love solid, honest rock music (the best people of all). But above all else, she gives me the comfort of knowing this is exactly where I belong and I could never be in love like this anywhere else in the world. Especially when you're singing your heart out to "Rich Girl" in a Phillies tee.

XOPHI

Face me. Embrace me.

OK, I'm curious to see who's with me on this. Because if you aren't with me, you're probably with someone else. And that's OK, I just don't want to know about it.

So here it goes. Usually when I meet-up with or say bye to people I call "friends" or "loved ones" or "anyone who looks like Zach Galifianakis" we hug. Well sort of. Lately these people are giving me some weird half-ass or rather half-body hug I'm calling the "sideways hug." This is how it works: I face the person, straight-on, and outstretch both arms towards the person to signify "hey, I really like you and you smell nice. Please hold me." While at the same time my friend turns his/her body slightly to the side and outstretches one arm towards me and the other off to their side like some cheerleader, to signify "hey, I like you more than a handshake but not really much more than a hug." And when we come together it's this uncomfortable, awkward, perpendicular embrace that leaves me feeling depressed, even if the people I'm getting them from are not cheerleaders. I should have seen this coming when we went from the double-hand slap

to the fist bump.

At first I tried to train myself to go from my two-armed + one-chest hug to work with these one-armed + one-hip hugs but I couldn't do it! I am so uncoordinated. So for awhile I stopped making the effort to hug people as much as possible to avoid being sidewayed...but then I became paranoid that people would think I had syphilis or swamp pits. And that's worse than having them think I'm some slippery creep who wants to fully embrace them....right? I can't win. This sucks. I need a hug.

So is the sideways hug the way to go? The old-school squeeze is no more? Do you offer a reserved sideways hug or do you like to sweep your peeps up into your arms? Is there anything wrong with either hug-method? Do you think that I think you give a shit about this? I am curious to know.

Next blog: The "backwards kick in the nuts."

Come play with me...if you dare!

OK, here's the deal. I am ridiculously busy this time of year: job + school + post-season baseball + working on a nice layer of pre-hibernation fat = not a lot of time to vomit up a toasty blog. But I still like to waste some of your time. So not to cheat you and so I can get back to watching baseball until 2am when I'm supposed to be writing a paper, here I hastily give you part 1 of a 25 part series called "Pictures of Creepy Children's Toys" for your amusement. Or nightmares.

Please send me the pictures you have in your computer of Creepy Children's Toys for Part 2. Thank you.

This toy has the ability to bad-touch you in your bathing suit area.

OK, maybe not so creepy but if you got this for Christmas, you would call Santa a creep

Hi, kids I'm COKEY the Horse! Just say yes!

Baby peanut turd with stubby arms

She haunts Chucky's nightmares

How fucked up are you as an adult if you played with this as a kid?

Oh FUCK it's coming AFTER ME!!!