Non-update

Sorry, have both been extremely remiss in the posting dept.  Much has gone on, down and by, and we'll both be updating the blog very soon. Promise. Until then, have fun, be safe and do what makes you happy!!! Oh, yeah, Happy New Year to  all our friends and everyone else it matters to!

Take a guy who is so painfully stupid that he would require a university degree in Advanced Idiocy just to upgrade to 'Moron' and breed him with the inbred, moonshine and Quaalude induced spawn of the most backwards, developmentally challenged mouth breathers that Arkansas has to offer. Mix the result with a know-it-all 14 year old boy who is certain that the best way to prove he's right, (as with all know-it-all 14 year olds) is to spew out all his knowledge as loudly and as often as possible, all the while recounting the many amazing fights he's been in (and won, of course). Now add a surly old drunk who has accomplished one memorable (albeit only to him) thing in his entire life, but feels it is of such overwhelming importance and interest that he spends the rest of his drab existence retelling the tale to anyone unfortunate enough to to be caught within earshot, a fair distance really, if you recall the 'volume challenged' 14 year old boy we added in step 3. Blend in a near psychotic delusional belief that allows him to think he is smarter than everyone else, stronger, more capable, better looking and successful than everyone else. Now, take the result of all the above steps and fill its brain with alcohol and crack cocaine for several years and you may come close to approximating the landlord that Misanthropy and myself have been subjected to for the past 4 months.

But, I will share more on that misadventure some other time - right now, I’m just too fucking excited, vibrating, 5 out of 7 nipples tingling and erect! The new Band thing is really starting to fall into place - we’re going Old School 3 Piece, everybody plays, everybody sings, every member is a Front Man. It;ll be cozy, just me (The RobScenity) on guitar, The Soon To Be Legendary Lee (Who cam do Sean Connory’s voice better than Sean Connory can, and do it for 4 hours without dropping character) on Bass, and, keeping the beat will be young Stiv, who is also gainfully employed in the same dismal retail HELL I spend most of my days in. We call hin Stiv due to the uncanny resemblance he bears to Stiv Bators, the old singer for The Dead Boys (remember Sonic Reducer?) only with neater hair and teeth. There's also the strange coincidence that Stiv (our Stiv) was born not too terribly long after Stiv (the first one) was killed by a drunk driver. Think about it - just exactly how fucking cool would that be-To have the actual reincarnation of Stiv Bators playing in our band? How cool? I’ll TELL ya how cool - MassCool! MassCool to the nth!!!

Delays ...

I know it's been eternity since either one of us has posted anything, but you will soon be treated (subjected?) to our combined eye witness accounts of  the inhumanly fast decline and fall of a dope-simple retard we had the misfortune to become acquainted with. Stand by for details!!

July 13 / 14 XLV A.S.

    Right. It came and went almost as explosively as I did. The day marking my 53rd year on this wad of human - infested (and infected) dirt, rock and H20 we all call home for now shot up on me, once again without sufficiently alerting me as to it's arrival, causing me to spend my most favorite of all days high, giggling and ecstatically happy while immersed in the exciting, vibrant world of retail sales.
    The day was very neatly sandwiched between the 2 most intense (almost lethal) examples of 'Birthday Sex' I have ever experienced - MsAnthropy having decided that one session was not enough to trumpet in my big Five-Three, rather, the event must be firmly wedged between two bookends of such extraordinary sexual extremism that, had I not been aware of her feelings towards me, I would have thought to be an assassination attempt. No kidding. 53 years old and doing things in a manner that would scare the very living shit out of most normal, healthy 22 year olds. Suffice it to say that my brains and entire CNS were, quite literally, jolted. Shocked like a Death Row inmate riding the lightening. So, speeding headlong through the afterglow, along with enough endorphins to drop a 300- dollar- a -day- junkie dead in his tracks (pun intended), I ripped through my Birthday ripped, a massive malignant grin on my head, and the beginnings of a new, improved "Master Plan" thudding through the brain.
    My day went off as though I'd written the script myself, timing was perfect, and everything happened as it should, all of which means that I am writing this the day after, tingling like a fresh 9-volt battery on wet tongue, riding the tail of a thoroughly enjoyable (and deserved) amphetamine riptide.
     My point? Don't have one. C'mon, you've known me long enough to know the futility in looking for a point to most of my ramblings, so don't act so shocked. Wait. There IS a point! And the point is this: Birthday Sex, especially if performed twice (once at each end of the BD) totally fucking rocks the nuts right off that sweater-vest Aunt Enid knitted for you.

Be safe, and Adiós for now.