Rock and/or Roll

I got my mythical band name, album title, and album cover photo from a post that Cherry did recently. You click on links to get the necessary names and pictures at random. Cherry helped me write the words on the picture, because I'm really dumb when it comes to computers, and most everything else. Thanks, Cherry! Now, a little about my mythical band . . .

Lehmi County Airport is led by left-handed guitarist, singer/songwriter, and self-proclaimed genius and doctor, Dr. Kenneth Noisewater. Their first two records came and went without much fan fair or critical praise, both grossing less than the band's staggering bar bills, but they are standing on the verge of a breakthrough with their latest release, the self-indulgent, self-depricating, minor masterpiece, Be a Fountain, Not a Drain.

It takes a few listens, roughly 30, for this album to grow on you. The first 10 listens you'd sooner have your femur bone cracked in half, the next ten you're really annoyed, but you tolerate it, the next five you find yourself bobbing your head, but still a little annoyed, suddenly, during the next three listens you're in love with this record and don't see how you lived without it, you hate it again upon listen 29, but then after 30 you're back to wanting this record to make love to your butt.

Pick up this mythical record, coming to a mythical record shop near you.

Also, head over to The Liar's Club, a Chicago topics blog updated hardly ever by Cherry, Classy, Niner, and Myself. I'm actually kind of proud of my latest LC post, and it's not even mythical!

Terms of Endearment

I was in a relationship for five years once, and during that time I thought I had used up every pet-name I could see myself using. This worried me, because I knew I couldn't reuse them; It just wouldn't be right.

However, I blurted out one with my new Special Lady Friend that isn't a viable option for an everyday term of endearment, but it gives me hope that I'll come up with a good one some day.

While it's not going to make it into the rotation, it's too damn funny not to share with my readers, who I think share my sense of humor to some degree, or you wouldn't keep coming back to read about my misadventures. The name is . . .

Miami Sex Machine

P.S.: I did a google search for this new phrase, and nothing came up. So, it looks like The Gancer is the only site with that phrase in its contents and STILL the first site to come up when anyone does a query for "titty bucks." Go ahead. Try it.

Toby, "Breakfast With No Hog," and Arnold Working Some Ass

1. I had to shoot a photography gig for a corporate event, and who should be providing the entertainment but U.S.A. lovin', Ford truck drivin', no sleeves in his entire closet havin' Toby Keith. I will say, although I pretty much hated his actual music, he and his band put on a pretty good show. Also, it was better than the music over the PA before he took the stage: One song was called She Thinks My Tractor is Sexy, and if you think I'm lying about a song title/concept that stupid, just click here. One thing that really pissed me off was when Toby went into a version of Stranglehold by Ted Nugent. Not because he butchered it, but, surprisingly because he nailed it, and his voice suddenly became a "rock" voice with a good range, and, most importantly, not the least bit country. Then he went right back to his shitty, twangy country voice for the remainder of the show. Do you think he would rather do faithful covers of classic rock songs, but he's stuck in this Dixie Chick hating persona because it's making him so much damn money? Something to think about . . .

I texted this girl I just started seeing about the horrors of working an event with someone as shit-tastic as Mr. Keith playing, and she texts back, "Shut up! I love him!" Okay, she's cool, so I didn't hold it against her, and I even took a photo of him for her. I wasn't able to print them for her until the next day at the office, and then I had to walk home in the rain with a 6 by 8 too big to fit in any pockets, so I had to clutch Toby close to my heart, on the inside of my coat. I must dig this chick, yes? Time will tell.

2. I bring you, the 10 best rap songs ever, decided on by a white boy unqualified to say so (Notice the House of Pain):

10. The Ditty by Paperboy
9. Big Poppa by Notorious B.I.G.
8. Fugee La by The Fugees
7. Paul Revere by The Beastie Boys
6. Jump Around by House of Pain
5. Gin and Juice by Snoop Doggy Dogg
4. The Message by Grand Master Flash and the Furious Five, Featuring . . .
3. Nothin' But a G Thang by Dr Dre
2. Mind Playin Tricks by Geto Boys
1. Good Day by Cube

3. My roommate and I watched Conan the Barbarian and Conan the Destroyer back-to-back. There is no comparison between the two: Barbarian rules and Destroyer is retched. That I've always known, but this time around I came to another realization: Conan the Barbarian is the one and only time you will see Arnold Schwarzenegger getting it on in a movie. There have been a lot of off-screen, implied fucking in his films, but Barbarian is the only time you can see him actually working some ass. I say that it's the last time too, because I don't see him making a film comeback after politics and getting down in front of a camera in his 60's. I just don't see it happening. So, rent Conan the Barbarian, watch him poke some crazy broad in a tent, who turns into a demon, and then Arnold chucks her into a fire. That's no lie. See it for yourself. My roommate informed me that he voted for Arnold when he was in California, and for that scene alone, he's got my vote too.

'Zo and Laetitia: Together at Last

One day my ex and I were talking about the celebrities who we wished we looked like. She wanted to be someone with a model's body, yet still voluptuous, so she decided on the chesty Victoria's Secret model Laetitia Casta (the word "tit" is in her name for heaven's sakes). I always wanted to be an enormous, good-looking guy who could dunk a basketball with a simple post move - A guy who, in general, nobody would want to "F" with, so I went with the then center for the Miami Heat, Alonzo Mourning.

We then got off on a bazaar tangent, as we often did, on what it would be like if the two of us jumped into their bodies, like in Being John Malkavich, found each other in our new bodies, and started dating.

Alonzo stands at 6'10" and 261 pounds, while Laetitia is 5'8" and although she was quoted as saying she only need be "in the mountains with some cheese and a bit of bread" to maintain her happiness, she is probably not much over 100 pounds. She also said of her breasts that they were "made in Normandy...from butter and cream cheese." What's with this chick and cheese, and although I'm sure she means that's what her titty-growing diet consisted of, doesn't it sound kind of like she's sculpting a pair of knockers out of mounds of butter and cheese? Damn, that's hot. Anyway, Alonzo has a foot on her in height, and well over 100 pounds on her in weight, but let's dig a little deeper . . .

Before the 2000-01 season, Alonzo was diagnosed with focal glomerulosclerosis, a kidney disorder that sidelined him for an entire season, and eventually led to an early retirement. While tragic, this would be a great time for him work on his impressive list of community service projects, but if he were married to Laetitia Casta, 'Zo could also devote his time to banging his supermodel wife at least three times a day, which any man in his position should, unless doctor's orders went against such a regiment.

Hey, readers, which celebrity do you wish you were, and who would you be dating? What kind of couple would you be, and what would the public think?

Information used without permission from http://www.laetitiacasta.com/laetitia-casta.php and http://www.answers.com/topic/alonzo-mourning