—yeah, yeah, I know it. And the truth is, the little bastard danced up a storm all afternoon. In fact, he was like a young Deney Terrio, to hear him talk about it. Or at least, a middle-aged Adrian Zmed.
But here’s the thing: after my landlord showed up unexpectedly this afternoon with an elderly couple interested in buying the house out from under us, I disappeared into the toolshed and pumped a boatload of primo heroin between my toes, chasing it down with eleven bottles of the very underrated Spanish pilsner, Ambar. After that, I passed out for five hours in a collage of my own waste.
Then, when I finally came to (from a remarkably vivid dream that had me fighting the Monkees’ Peter Tork with nunchaku), the little guy had already showered and changed into his after-dance kimono, and was sitting on the couch watching Some Kind of Wonderful and finishing off my restaurant quality avocado chips.
Which, while I understand that doesn’t much help you guys, nevertheless served to remind me just how sexy Mary Stuart Masterson was in the late eighties—and just how terribly opportunistic dancing armadillos are when it comes to pinching snack foods from smack addicts hiding out in toolsheds.
A lesson well worth revisiting, I should add.
****
update: Well. You know what they say about guys with big feet...
Heroin?
Riiiiiggggghhhhttttt…
Word on the street is you got hold of some prime mucilage, and downed the whole batch.
We are closer to answering the burning question – does the armadillo have Buddha-nature? – by the revelation that the shelled one indulges in an apres-dance kimono. Clearly this is a sign that if he does not possess Buddha-nature, he at least aspires to such. Or at least likes Tsingtao, maybe.
He didn’t eat any of your paste, though, did he?
Those bad metamucil trips are the worst man.
Well, he did dance, at least.
I guess beggars can’t be choosers, can we?
That boom you just heard was Retardo Montalban’s head exploding when he realized he had totally missed the fact the Goldstein was a fucking herion addict, too.
Dude, kimonos are for chicks, so that means the armadillo is either a chick or loves the cock…
Boom!
Tsingtao? As in the Chinese beer? I’d be inclined to interpret that as evidence of non-functioning taste buds rather than Buddha-nature.
Jim – I’m with you on that. Of course, what beer would one possessed of Buddha-nature prefer?
(The answer of course being “Mu.” Or “Dos Equus,” maybe.)
Verc, that would suggest that the ‘dillo has a Nathan Lane thing going.
And though I’ve never seen Nathan Lane dance, I’m thinking we may be fortunate that these Friday terpsichores keep getting cancelled.
Let’s go down to the Mexican restuarant for cerveza and karaoke instead. My tre—
Aw, nuts. Hole in my pocket. Anybody want to spot me a couple of Franklins so I can treat the gang to cerveza and chips?
“Toolshed Cowboy”
I’m picturing Matt Dillon again in the main role.
The Monkees!!!
Say what you will, I alwys thought “Daydream Believer” was an underated. That’s actually a cool song (sort of). You know who was the coolest Monkee? In all serious now.
It was Micahel Nesmith.
Just the fact that he was the executive producrer of “Repo Man’ is all you need to know. Game set, and match. “There’s one in every car,”
Aslo, (I forgot about this) his mother invented Wite-Out.
And I get the TW horse. Go figure.
i’m not sure how, but that passage is getting worked into one of my conversations later tonight.
that’s just classic!
These kids nowadays, they start with paste, then it’s on to the hard stuff – Elmer’s glue, then Carpenter’s Wood Glue. Then the real nasty stuff – Gorilla Glue or Crazy Glue.
I’m praying for you, Jeff.
Crazy Glue is pretty much the end. You invariably glue your lips shut. Unless you sniff it, and then you’re likely to glue your nostrils shut. Either way, the outlook is grim.
”…a collage of my own waste.”
That’s just beautiful, is what that is.
I may be adding my own signifier (is that the right term in this circumstance?), but that does seem like an allusion to “college of my own waste,” which, with a bit of poetic license, seems to work nicely as well.
Somehow I think there’s going to be another interesting conversationin front of the TV tonight…
When Jeff awoke in “ a collage of his own waste” was he, for that moment, a member of the netroots? Just wondering.
I thought about that MC. where have you been?
HAH…maybe SP Fitzgerald cut Rove loose because he’s too busy pursuing those champions of privacy on the left! You know, the one ‘s that HATE when personal information is accessed and broadcast? on the internet?
Nevermind…that was bullshit outrage..alas….
Behold the“Internet Liberation Front”…leftist Jeremy Hammond
and visit Seixion and see his Think Progress stalkers…who even called his DAD — posing as (this is precious … John Dean
So great,,,I guess the left-o-stalker-sphere really did Jason Leopold ethics.
That wasn’t a dream; you were simply watching the 1968 movie “Head”. I think the Peter Tork nunchaku scene comes in between the one with the football team fighting the Viet Cong and the one where Davey Jones goes into the bathroom and sees a giant eye staring out of the mirror. After that comes the bar fight scene with Jack Nicholson in the background, and then Frank Zappa wanders through riding a humpbacked North African ox.
did DIG Jason Leopold <i>tactics</i. only Townhouse’s official word was to pretend, they didn’t.
Well the link doesn’t works…but you can read about the left’s Internet Liberation HACK…Here, upper left or </a>http://michellemalkin.com/archives/005268.htm</a> or
Sorry for the broken tags…and the reference above is on the RIGHT not left…but her is a cached
Internet Liberation Front page
Interesting, TopsecretK9 – you get the idea that these folks watched a certain Jonny Lee Miller/Angelina Jolie film a few too many times?
At this very moment I can’t get to sleep, and I’m watching season 4 of “The X-Files.” The Truth is Out There, and Agent
MulderGreenwald is going to find it.I’m inclined to say Milwaukee’s Best Light. Maybe Schaefer.
And a hot dog. With everything.
Coleridge and Heroin on the same day? Right before a Holiday Weekend? This is going to be fun.
You are trying to drive them all insane, aren’t you? And I’m going on vacation…damn.
TW:medical. It’s a conspiracy!
And a hot dog. With everything.
Having had a run at the scale bizness (before I discovered how much of it was controlled and by whom) I’ve seen the ongoing antics of hotdog-urp-factories. Inspectors are almost as bad a joke there, as the housing fucks. Trust me, you’ll need eeeeeeverything on it, just to be sure.
A few years back, I had a go at some things the locals said were to be eaten in a special way, only to discover they were half right. I ate it and it made into the spin cycle but the rinse/drain cycle displayed the full meal deal as a collage of Goldstein proportion. In stereo. In over a two hour stretch. In the name of Jeheeeeeve some more……Ran off all one of my friends (I can still hear the clitter clatter of a critter with un-retractable nails on asphalt in the night) and cleared the parking lot until the first typhoon hit.
The only beer in a can with Buddha-nature is Tecate with a squeeze of lime. Otherwise, it would have to be any German beer–pick one, the worst is better than anything made elsewhere.
Contrary to popular opinion, China doesn’t make beer.
I will keep reading PW until I get it.
Though I do not have many years left.
ahem,
Toohey’s New – Australia. Despite my best efforts, I was unable to find a German beer to equal it. I tried, hard, for two weeks.
Most German beers are very good, but what’s up with that Cola beer stuff?
In an ode to (forgive me) French efficiency and taste, the Alsace region has some lemony beers that are quite good. Think Corona, with real beer flavor, and the lemon already in there.
Drink enough, and you can’t remember their names!
Tecate? German? What are you nuts!?!?!?
Listen, you know me, I am NOT a jingoism freak about USA. I have VERY alot of issues with this (not my) America, witgh reagrds to Walmart, the current “so-called” adminstration, violents in videogames, Ann Colter, F’eaux News, ect, ect, ect.
I think for example of being more natural and excepting of the beauties of the human body, Europeans have no equal in us. Where are the great American topless beaches, I ask you? In Sweden, people often go topless just on there lunch break and whatnot, and that is SO much more inlightning to me as a person. The whole thing about being up tight about with Bill Clinton and the cigars, where in France they would just be like “whatever.” More in tune with sex basicly. Also, Kyoto.
BUT. Let’s not kid oursleves about ONE thing. Times have changed, and the BEST BEER in the world right now is America. Thats right. Thats what I said. US of A. I’m not talking about your Spuds McKenzie pee “premium” mopsqueezings. No. I’m talk about USA microbrews rule, man. Most innovative, vital beer culture of the world today.
TW: Support your local microbrew.
Can offensive illiterati be banned?
Offensive Illuminati maybe – them and their rosey crosses, don’t even get me started!
Gezzer, in word, yes, of coarse. I TOTALY support your right to not be offneded, geezer. Thats in the Consitution.
“Also, Kyoto”
Fucking pricless !
brooksfoe —
Head is a great flick, one I’ve recommended here on several occasions. I remember Nicholson (not surprised he showed up, it being a Rafelson picture) and Zappa. But I don’t remember Tork and nunchucks.
Of course, I was on heroin when I watched it—and I kinda drifted off in the middle into a dream where I was writing blog posts about a dancing armadillo and Adrian Zmed.
Spooky, eh?
JD, we are but the mirror through which the greatness that is Witheld is made manifest.
Jury’s still out on whether we’re concave or convex, though.
So, I was riding my Harleys with friends and family down in Alabama. My little bro, riding in front of me on my ‘69 FLH suddenly swerves and almost goes down. Three armadillos wandered out in the road right in front of him.
Now, I love the ‘dillo and his antics, but at least one of his cousins looks much better as road kill. Better him than my ride.
So you weren’t embarassed by Monica Lewinsky as the femme fatale?
“Collage of my own waste:” The latest edition of “Words That Have Never Been Uttered in This Particular Order.”
You know what they say about guys with big feet…
Yeah, they have to buy their shoes at Ed’s Military Surplus on Pico.
Well, giving that my idolized concept of a womyn is Jeanenane Gorfafalo, no not especially, no. Yes, Monica was naif, but you have to admit she brought the beret was back in chic because of her. That’s big points in my book.
I’m think Witheld has stumbled on the correct spelling and pronunciation of Gorfafalo’s name.
It is only a matter of time before he utterly remakes reality into a much more entertaining matrix.
He’s already affecting my grasp of syntax!
That was my primary complaint. Billy Jeff is no Jack Kennedy. The Leader of the Free World should have higher minimum standards.
Witheld sez:
Witheld, I raise my fine, moonbat crafted Sierra Nevada Pale Ale in a celebration of your truthiness. American beers rule, mopsqueezings notwithstanding.
Jeff sez:
They gots big shoes, huh?
I think I just said that, Pablo.
Sorry, I think I was stuck on Monica.
Ewww.
MarkD:
We are unaware of this mysterious ‘cola beer’ of which you speak. Is it by any chance related to the cream-soda-like ‘Kola Champagne’ that so well serves to wash down Mexican and Puerto-Rican food? Or what?
Withheld:
I’ve dispatched many a microbrew in California–even a few made in Berkeley. Alas, they run a little sweet for my taste. Having lived in Chicago for many years, I guess I’m prejudiced in favor of the German stuff. Hacker-Pschorr Brau. DAB, too. Weissbier (lemony, served in an immense glass boot, downed in one go if you have money riding on it).
Topless beaches in the US? Black’s Beach just off the Golden Gate Bridge. Completely nude.
Actually, the truest thing you can say about beer is that the first one tastes the best. After that, they all taste like they came out of the same horse.
Tip of the day: Mixing a mediocre beer with lemonade 50/50–what they call a ‘shandy’ in the UK–is a surprisingly good way to make it palatable. Takes the bitterness out. Tastes nice and crisp. You’d be surprised.
I’m late to the party….but that has never deterred me from offering truisms. Kirin is an excellent Asian beer, brewed in Japan. And while I too salute some of the fine microbrews available, I find the German beers extremely palatable and consistent…Beck’s in particular is my choice of brews. Nothing tastes as good as the first sip of the first beer of the day…yet the last swallow of the last Beck’s is just as tasty as the first.
Michael Nesmith is probably the most talented of the Monkees. He put together Elephant Parts, basically the forerunner of MTV and music videos. An excellent montage of humor and fine music. He followed that up with a special for TV called, IIRC, “TV Parts”. He has released several albums on Rhino records from the “Old Stuff” and the “Newer Stuff”, really some good music.
ahem sez:
Take half a glass of beer, top it off with cola. Then give that shit to a German, because I’m not drinking it. But they do. Lots. Beer and tomato/orange juice is also not unheard of.
Ick.
Double ick!! Why would anyone desecrate a good beer like that? If it’s a bad beer, nothing you add could improve it.
Worse beer I ever had was one made in Poland…can’t remember the name.
I once had a flat Point Beer in WI that was the most horrific tasting beer ever to cross my lips.
Red Tail Ale is a slice of heaven, though I have never seen it on the shelves outside of Monterey,CA.
Still, nothing on the planet compares to Jaegermeister, especially if you get your paws on the real stuff from across the pond. Good times, from what I recall.
ahem
Hacker-Pschorr Pilsner Hell – the healing waters. Had several gallons in Oberammergau one day – haven’t had that much fun since the hogs ate my brother!
Wouldn’t hit a dog in the ass with a bottle of Becks. Unless it was empty, of course.
That’s why they make all those beers….different strokes for different folks…I could say the above about, oh…a hundred or so that I have sampled..except that I would throw themfull.
When it comes to beer..you gotta have standards..as ol’ Pat Henry said, “Give me good beer or give me none”, or something like that.
Red Tail is a good one. Thats a Humbolt County beer if not mistaken. I use to be very fond aslo of a Colorado beer, I think it was “Old Scratch” and something about a dog on the label, drawn by the Hunter Thompson illusarter guy (the messy cartoons of his books). But sometimes the best is just the freshest/closest to home, which for me is something from South Street Brewery, or Starr Hill.
The sad of it is, not so much beer for me since South Beach. :(
ris: If you like Kirin, try their classic lager. Asahi is the over advertised beer here, like Bud in America. Fortunately, Bud is as Ahem says and so when they refer to bud, well I suppose the marketing is aimed elsewhere.
If you hold an empty can of Bud close to your ear, you can hear the horses scream.
When I’m being snooty about beer, Oranjeboom from Holland is my absolute favorite. Nearly impossible to get where I live, though, although I currently have some on hand because my better half bought me a case for my 40th birthday. She’s very sweet; think I’ll keep her.
Red beer is very tasty if you do it right: take a pint or slightly larger glass and shake a half dozen drops of Tabasco in the bottom. Add four ounces of tomato juice, then a can of your favorite Pilsner. Stir (gently) if you really feel you must, and top with fresh ground pepper. Repeat as necessary.
Are you sure they’re not trying to improve the cola?
Yup, kind of a lazy Bloody Mary, great breakfast addition on camping trips. I usually throw in a pepperoncini and a pickled okra or two, then in is breakfast.
Replace the beer with vodka, and we’ll have something to talk about.
The very best beer in all the world is actually any beer in a twelve-pack chilled in the freezer to one degree F above freezing. Don’t have to worry about adding anything. Just be sure to drink the whole twelve pack and you’ll be rendered perfectly in-zen-sate.
Withheld: Atkins is superior to South Beach in that you can drink all the super dry, dirty martinis you can hold as long as you can still make it out the door of Durant’s in Phoenix. Of course, by that time, you’ve forgotten to order the fabulous steak, etc. On the other hand, at that point, who cares?
Almost finally,
“Collage of my own waste”—Good one. Still cleaning up the pastiche of my frozen beer spew on the keyboard.
Finally finally,
I apologize for cross-threading here, but I read as much as I could (and more than I should have) of Amanda Mark-off (about 5-6 lines). I seriously think she’s got a case of cunt-scratch fever. Prognosis dire. Intellectually incurable. And who the hell even cares about the physical implications?
It’s too late now, of course, but in the a.m.(or p.m., whatever), I may warn her she’s tempting fate but little else:
“One-two, one-two
and through and through,
His vorpel blade goes snicker-snack.”
Yeah, yeah, it’ll be a waste of words, I’m sure. I don’t think Manda’s smart enough to beware the Jeffercock she teases. Wonder if there’s a twelve-step program for obnoxious cunt-drunks?
TW: best
Miss Mandy’s “best” shots are from a water pistol. Sad.
Blech. Vodka always tastes like lighter fluid to me, even the expensive ones.