Monday, July 10, 2006

The Dreaded Monday Morning Post

I think we can all agree that Italy should have won yesterday. That PK in the first six minutes smelled tremendously of horse-shit, France's coach took out his best shooters before the shootout, and, then, there was that whole wreckless and retarded headbutt to the chest thing. I was watching the game with Vince McMahon and Vince McMahon was taking notes. Anyway: Bravo to Italy. Now, get back to The Boot and get indicted for match-fixing, stat.

I had a rather relaxing weekend without much in the way of Birdmonstery-ness which now makes realize how easy it is to write this thing when we're on tour. I mean, there's quite a disconnect between musical roadtrips and, well, let's be honest, sitting in a cube with a headset on, trying to accelerate the clock with telekenesis, realizing you don't have that particular skill, and becoming sorely depressed. During the former, there are nightly lunatics, strange cultural realizations, tattoos, sight-seeing, late-night perusal of infomercials, Dakota Fanning movies, and dating shows featuring the most pathetic dregs of twenty-something society making asses of themselves for our saddened amusement. During the latter, there are...phone calls. And emails. And that list of links to the right. And coffee. And work. Can't forget about work.

So, in lieu of news (besides, of course, the Bottom of the Hill show I'll be plugging endlessly (buy thy tickets here) and is all ages, by the way), I'm going to share a joke:

A girl walks in to the doctor's office. She has grapes in her nose and a banana in her ear. The doctor says, "You aren't eating right."

Maaaaan, that's rich.

6 comments:

Gasoline Hobo said...

that headbutt thing by zidane was completely retarded. he probably lost the game for france right there. i hear that his nickname is france is "zizou", which makes me want to get out my glock for some reason. (obscure?)

you should consider hoboism as a side pursuit. it's just like being in a band. except without the fans. or non-legume derived music. also, less baths. but you DO get a cool hobo name, like Corkscrew Justin Biscuit Thrower.

birdmonster said...

Gasoline Hobo: Keep thy glock holstered. We need not more violence. Although, I'm thinking of greeting all my friends with the head-down rush to the chest. What would remain? Less friends.

As for hoboism: Well, I've got the bath thing covered, easy. And hobos with banjos: priceless. You may be onto something. If you can play a washboard, we could team up. Although, that would be busking, which isn't hoboing per se, but, you know. At any rate, I like my bum name. Call me Corkscrew.

Gasoline Hobo said...

i have a spoon and i can grunt in an approximation of rhythm. would that work?

also, there is a big difference between bums and hobos. bums are mostly stationary and have a fondness for shopping carts and strollers and yelling at things that aren't there.

hobos move around and eschew moving receptacles. shouting at things that aren't there is optional.

also, hobos are sex machines.

birdmonster said...

Other important questions:

Do hobos ask strangers for money indignantly? Do hobos carry bindles? Have you seen Bozo Texino?

Answers I pray for: No, Yes, Damn Straight.

Gasoline Hobo said...

no, corkscrew, we are not indignant (and we prefer to call it "skillethandling"). we do indeed carry bindles. my bindle is whack, yo. if you don't agree, i'll whack you with it.

i have NOT in fact seen Bozo Texino, but i will certainly track it down now. thanks!

jeff said...

back to work mr. olafson!