I just had a hay fever sneeze so violent that it merited a muffled “bless you!” shouted up through the floor from the neighbor below.
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True story. 4/3/10. Self-defense via fortuitous dressing.
This morning, a couple of Jehovah’s Witnesses just happened to be walking by when I took the dogs out for their morning poop. And they just happened to approach me and tried to catch my attention. We made eye contact and they moved in for the kill; but something caused them to pause and then continue on without addressing me.
I’m guessing it was my t-shirt that has, printed on the front, a fake name tag that looks like this:
Fun with wireless
The AT&T guy just came and installed DSL. It comes with its own wireless gateway that puts out a wireless signal that all the surrounding neighbors can see. (Password-protected, of course, but they can still see it.)
Anyway, the first thing I did when he left was to go into the configuration and change the name of the wireless network from “2WIRE820” to:
“ALICE COOPER IS YOUR NIGHTMARE”
Fun with customer service phone reps. A true story from today.
PG&E phone representative: “Is there anything else I can do for you today?”
Me: “Yes. I think you should throw your hands in the ay-yair. And wave ’em like you just don’t care.”
PG&E rep: “I’m doing it RIGHT NOW.”
Dance like your life depends on it. Because maybe, just maybe, it does.
“Why don’t you laugh? Why d’you look at me like that? That’s how I am. There’s a devil in me who shouts, and I do what he says. Whenever I feel I’m choking with some emotion, he says: ‘Dance!’ and I dance. And I feel better! Once, when my little Dimitraki died, in Chalcidice, I got up as I did a moment ago and I danced. The relations and friends who saw me dancing in front of the body rushed up to stop me. ‘Zorba has gone mad!’ they cried, ‘Zorba has gone mad!’ But if at that moment I had not danced, I should really have gone mad– from grief. Because it was my first son and he was three years old and I could not bear to lose him. You understand what I’m saying, boss, don’t you– or am I talking to myself?”
–Nikos Kazantzakis, Zorba the Greek, p. 72.
ND shows. The definitive list.
I’ve seen this band more times than any person who is not a member of their immediate inner circle (e.g. a roadie, family member, or significant other). Words cannot explain the depth of love… it’s not a “favorite band” kind of thing, it has to do with a friendship dating back to 1992. Collectively, they’re the single most influential thing of my life: it’s hard to explain how much this has colored my persona and influenced everything in the years since.
So here it is: my No Doubt show history. With notes and details. The numbers show 72 shows, but I could swear I was over 75, so I may have missed a few inbetween 2001-2005.
The most surreal, awesome, and eternally unforgettable “I can’t believe I was there for that” one: the ND/Sublime living room jam at Tony’s surprise birthday party (#10). Followed closely by gorilla’ing onstage with them (#60).
Other best ones: #1 (indescribable feeling where you feel like you found something that was made especially for you); #2 (met them); #5 and #6 (best shows + Angelo Moore guest appearance); #26 (Eric brought me onstage to sing his “secret” R-rated lyrics that only I knew); and #72 (emotionally walloped).
Burlesque Hall of Fame pageant on the Travel Channel!
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8eBxnWrtYmg]
GREAT feature about the Burlesque Hall of Fame pageant, the annual pageant in Las Vegas that I’m heavily involved in the production of.
Featuring main bud Luke Littell with color commentary; and also best galpal Joyce in the front of the crowd shot at 3:42. The intro lasts 1:15, then the BHOF part starts.
Love CONquers all
This is a true story that just recently happened to a friend of mine whose identity will remain anonymous. But it was just too funny of a twist on things to not post about it.
A few months ago, she met a guy on a dating site. They hit it off quite well… emails and lengthy late-night phone calls, over the course of several weeks. Love was definitely in the air… there was a real connection.
He happened to be a doctor, and was heading to Africa as part of a humanitarian medical program. However, something bad happened there: while in a taxi, he was ambushed and robbed. The driver was killed. He took a bullet and was in the hospital, with no wallet and only able to send out an occasional message. Waiting for his communiques was agonizing because of the extreme uncertainty. Worried beyond belief and wanting to help, my friend sent him some money. A few hundred dollars. She couldn’t send more, but she wanted to help out someone she’d become close with.
Turned out he was a Nigerian scammer. And the taxi ambush and subsequent hospital trip were fictional.
But the best part? He fessed up to her because he had fallen for her.
Now it could be argued that his saying so was just another line fed to her in the scam, but I think it’s unlikely because now that she knew the truth, she certainly wasn’t going to send any more money.
But I was wrong– that wasn’t the best part. The REAL best part is this: she says that they are friends now and still talk sometimes.
No word if she got a refund.
Possibly the most apt description ever.
Trusty pal Joyce, in a recent discussion:
“The Rocky Horror Picture Show is open-mic night for nerds.”
Apocalypse how? -or- medieval good times
A couple of days ago, I found myself in a bit of a long conversation with one of the regulars at the bar I am currently working at. She is a rather loquacious individual, with a quick mind and an observant eye. She and her husband have seen many changes at the bar, so they know of the subtleties and hilarities that go on there. They like to come and bear witness to it all. But yes, she is a chatty one. Two of her topics that she frequently brings up: 1) what to do when the Zombie Apocalypse comes; and 2) ren faires.
So there I was, finding myself cornered into a very one-sided conversation with her about: the zombie apocalypse and ren faires.
She is REALLY into this zombie thing. She has escape routes and defense plans for the bar. (Which begs the question: would zombies really head for a place designed to render braaaaaaaains incapacitated and with dead cells?) But I digress.
Anybody who knows me knows that I have a very low tolerance threshold for ren faire types, and also a very low tolerance, period, of this whole “zombie” fad that has been going on lately. So I posed this query to her:
“Well what would you do if the zombie apocalypse happened during the ren faire? Because in order to be true to character, you wouldn’t be able to use modern technology against them.”
Her thought process abruptly halted while she searched for an answer.
Meanwhile, I made my escape.