Wait, She Had WHAT In Her Pockets?

Have you ever listened closely to the lyrics of "Little Red Corvette" by Prince?

In one part, he says:

"I guess I must be dumb
She had a pocket full of horses
Trojan and some of them used."

To me, he was kind of dumb for sticking with that Phillie. I mean, who holds onto spent rubbers? That's a big red flag, Purple One.

Storytelling Podcast 2 of 4: Speed Dating/Turbo Loving

In Crom's story, he tells the gang about the time he tried out speed dating, where you go from one table to another trying to meet people, but something was a little fishy about the whole operation. So, Crom, Dr. Ken, Beatnik, and L.C. plot their revenge against the Russian mobsters who run these speed dating events.



L.C. argues that speed dating should be a little more like playing Plinko on "The Price Is Right."

Of course, the word of the day, sump pump, was used just under the wire. Phew! So, Turbo Lovers, download the MP3 by clicking on the play button on the bottom or just listen by clicking on the word play in the middle of the player below, but if you do that, remember to turn off the music player on my blog, to the right.
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Songs Used:
1. "Medley: Just a Gigalo/I Ain't Got Nobody" by David Lee Roth
2. "Hey Ladies" by The Beastie Boys
3. "Young Lust" by Pink Floyd
5. "Turbo Lover by Judas Priest

Storytelling Podcast 1 of 4: Beatnik's Story

In this project, Beatnik, Crom, LC (a.k.a. Hetero Sexual Life Partner), and myself (your humble narrator, Dr. Kenneth Noisewater, all are going to tell you a story with some connection to a song that you will hear in the background. All songs you will hear at the end of each podcast, and there will be other fun songs related to what they're talking about through out. The boys all sipped on some Coronas and enjoyed themselves in this endeavor, and we hope you like it too.

In Beatnik's tale, he has an interesting encounter at a house party that takes a dramatic turn, and through out the process of the group of guy's interjections while he tries to talk, the boys came up with a new Urban Dictionary term: "The Sump Pump." What is it you may ask? You'll just have to listen, and then listen to the next three installments where the guys sneak the new term into conversation and scream, no unlike "Pee-Wee's Playhouse," only grosser, perhaps what Paul Ruben himself is into, not Pee Wee.

Hope you enjoy, and remember, you can click the little play button below to listen or click the MP3 button to add it to your itunes for your car, train ride, or treadmill, whatever. Oh, and remember that if you're listening while keeping the browser on the blog page, you'll need to pause the music player along the right panel.

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Songs in the background:
"Story of My Life (Live)" by Social Distortion
"I Have Been in You" by Frank Zappa
"Why Does It Hurt When I Pee" by Frank Zappa
"White Wedding" by Bily Idol - Beatnik's song of choice for his tale . . .

More on Podcasts

I got some buddies on their way to record the second set of podcasts for The Gancer. When I did podcasts in the comedy group I was in a few years back, I always thought it was fun as hell, but I felt like I wanted to have more control over how things were done. It's not complicated really; you just hit record, crack some beers, and shoot the shit. Still, it's good to be the host so I can move it in the right directions. In that group, most everyone was a better actor than me, many of them had more time to devote to the group, but when it came to the podcasts, I really think that is where I should have been the lead. For one, you can't take it serious. Once it's not fun and seems like work, then the whole thing is crapped out.

So, Crom is on his way over to Dr. Ken's apartment to do his second one of these with me. The first being the series of Rule #34 podcasts that I think came out tremendous. He's funnier than hell on these things.

Also on his way is a friend who doesn't have an alias yet, so I'm going to call him Beatnik for now. He's a guy who I wasn't too close with back in high school, but through the magic of Facebook, we figured out that we have a lot in common, such as hating high school, drinking too many beers sometimes, and dating artist chicks who drive us nuts.

THIS JUST IN: It sounds as if HLP (Heterosexual Life Partner) might be joining us as well! He has been featured in many blog posts over the years, and I'm sure my beloved seven readers are enthused to hear his voice!

This one's going to be unbelievable, so stay tuned . . .

Facebook Status: 1/20/2011

"She's not a super-Asian!" That's what some jerk on the team we beat in volleyball said to one of his female teammates tonight. He goes, "Just hit it over! She's not a super-Asian!" Hey, Shauna, way to bring out the a-hole racist in the opposition!

Hey, buddy! It's just an adult night league, so no need to be mean to a woman like that. Some people are just too serious.

Where did he get this notion of a super-Asian, anyway? Is that something on the cutting room floor of Hitler's plans for world domination?

"Well, Actually . . ."

I once knew this guy a long, long time ago who could launch into a lecture at a drop of a hat. Recently, HLP (Heterosexual Life Partner) and myself got talking about this guy, and another friend of mine said, "Yeah, he's a real well, actually type of guy." That's exactly it! He can well, actually the shit out of whatever you say to him. There are so many speeches that could be avoided by just a quick anecdote, and he doesn't even come up for air to give you that window to divert the subject away - and what good would that do because he's only going to hit you with a discourse around the next turn?

Ugh!

In any event, thanks, buddy for nailing the perfect nickname for him.

How about you, Seven Readers? Do you know anyone like this, or do you know any other good nicknames for someone similar or all together different? Well, actually, I knew a guy when I was a little kid who told such fantastical stories that we called him Teddy Ruxpin, the story-telling bear . . .

I recently wrote a short story for a project called The Killing Pandemic where you write a murder story and tag someone else to write one. A friend of mine wrote one after me, and we need someone to tag, so if any of you want to write a quick story, email me at thegancer@yahoo.com.

Let me know what you think of my story in the comments of The Killing Pandemic or the comments on this page.

Thanks, Seven Readers!

"The Mouth of the South"

When kids at my work have a big mouth, I like to call them "The Mouth of the South." Now, they have no idea that this is in reference to the 1980's professional wrestling manager, Jimmy Hart. Nor do they have any idea that he carried a megaphone and managed folks the likes of Jim "The Anvil" Neidhart, The HonkyTonk Man, and Greg "The Hammer" Valentine.

I want to be a professional wrestling manager in the worst way. I figure I don't have a big enough physique to compete, but I do have a big enough mouth to be an extremely annoying manager, meddling in the affairs of the match, distracting referees, and sneaking folding chairs into the ring when no one is looking. This might be my calling. That and giving kids at my work funny nicknames . . .

As I Walked Into the Bathroom At a Nationwide Sub Sandwich Chain . . .

. . . I said to myself, "This place smells like 200% of the ass of a 400 pound silverback gorilla on a hot and sweaty jungle afternoon."

I just thought it was an interesting analogy that I should share with you, my Seven Readers, primarily to see what Gorilla Bananas, one of my most loyal commenters, would say in response.

Butt Blaster

Scene: Dr. Ken is at the gym, and he bumps into a gal he knows.

Gal: Hey! I was just telling Stacey that I didn't think you really worked out here because we never see you.

Dr. Ken: Yup. I'm here a lot, actually. As a matter of fact, I'm climbing aboard the Butt Blaster right now.
(The Dr. motions towards the Butt Blaster machine to his right)

Gal: The Butt Blaster?
(Laughing, perhaps more at him than with him.)

Dr. Ken: Yes, ma'am. Surprised you never see me. I'm blasting my butt up here just about every day.

Gal: Yeah?

Dr. Ken: Well, I mean, I'm not always on this machine in particular. Not that my butt's a problem area, per say . . . But great seeing you!

Gal: Yes, you too!

(Dr. Ken straps himself to the butt blaster and tries to blast away his fat and stupidity.)

Today's Facebook Status Is . . .

"I still ride my shopping cart like a skateboard, and I don't care if I look like an overgrown kid because it's just plain faster; deal with it, haters."

It's true. I'm impatient, and I just don't care how stupid it may look to some folks. Also, it's more fun, and I'm all about fun. It's one of the joys of doing things alone; of being alone. There's no pain-in-the-ass significant other (and no, that's not directed at anyone in particular, just partners in general) telling me to stop acting like a damn dumb ass. Guess what? I'm-a-be a dumb-dumb any time I damn please - no fun police allowed.

I also like cooking for myself because I can just throw together any old kind of shit that I have leftover, and sometimes it tastes kind of so-so, but who cares? As long as it's healthy-ish, I'll choke it down, and I don't have to please anyone.

I'm also not on anyone else's schedule. I almost never have to skip a workout, miss catching up on work, and I can spend a token night watching fights taped on my DVR, read 200 pages in a book, or write useless crap like this on my blog for you fine folks.

Speaking of you fine folks, what are some things that my Seven Readers enjoy about being alone?

The Tap Out

As a fan of mixed martial arts, I know that a tap out usually refers to when someone is close to getting choked to death and he/she taps with his/her hand to stop the fight, but there is another lesser known tap out.

The one I'm referring to is when someone is going down on someone else, and the person on the receiving end gives a little tap to signify that it's just not happening. Now, I've done some research here, and women have said that they do the tap when they know that they're not going to finish that way, and to soften the blow to the man's ego, they will act like they just can't take it anymore due to being so turned on - so they just want to start hittin' it. This, of course, is never true because if you're on your game, there's no way in hell she'll want you to stop.

So, Seven Readers, I'm sorry if this post is a little dirty, but I'm curious: have you ever tapped or been tapped?

Spaceship School

The other night I had this dream where I was going on a job interview at a place where my friend works, and to my surprise, the school was on a spaceship; I guess she hadn't mentioned this. Before the interview, I had to get changed, but I couldn't find anywhere to get privacy. I got caught like three times in various stages of undress trying to put my suit on. As it turns out, I was dressed all wrong when I met the boss because he was dressed in a tight-fitting short sleeved body suit, almost like a superhero, and he had ripped muscles everywhere and was ridiculously good looking.

He put me right to work to test out how I could keep up with their computerized spaceship stuff, and I just couldn't keep up. The superhero boss guy came over to me, and I admitted that I just didn't understand these wacky touch screen stations that they were using.

So, the implications?

Well, the getting caught naked is always an inadequacy thing. The not being able to do the job right, yeah, inadequacy. Oh, and the guy being ripped in SCUBA gear, yeah, you guessed it . . . No! Not latent homosexuality! Inadequacy again.

Butt Notes

Have you ever farted and it sounds just like a note in a song? I mean, it makes sense, right? The human sphincter is bound to be able to produce a multitude of sounds. Just ask Gerry Phillips, who is a manualist, or in other words, a guy who makes fart songs with his hands. You figure if a guy can play Bohemian Rhapsody with hand farts, then our butts must have the same capacity. Well, I swear to God I hit the exact notes of some songs in the morning, and then that song is on my head for the remainder of the day.

Anyone else ever do this?

Well, either way, here's a song by this idiot.

The Night of the Horrendous Beer Tasting

A few weeks ago, a good friend of mine, The Locust, went out to Delilah's here in Chicago to celebrate the birthday of The Uncle, who is not my uncle, but my Heterosexual Life Partner's (HLP) Uncle. <----- That's sounds confusing, but trust me: It all makes perfect sense.

We got there really early because The Uncle and his buddies had around 3 other stops before they were going to get there, so The Locust and I decided to do an impromptu beer tasting of a few of the 100 winter beers that they were featuring. When we asked the bartender which ones were good, he told us that he is not a fan of winter brews, and we should have taken that as a warning to try something else. Instead, we suffered through some of the crappiest pints of dark, demon piss we have ever had to wince through and choke down in all our storied years of beer drinking. We needed a spitoon, or at least we could have had the good sense not to finish them all. But, sadly, he and I both have a problem with leaving unfinished pints on the bar. Here are the results, complete with a rating on a scale of 10:

Anchor Christmas, 2003:

- Dr. Ken's Rating: one.

- The Locust's Rating: one.

Comments: "It tasted a bit like a vinegary ass."

Bells Christmas Ale, 2010

- Dr. Ken's Rating: initially I rated it a four, but then after tasting how bad the other ones were, I gave it a seven.

- The Locust's Rating: 8

Comments: "This one was sort of refreshing after suffering through all those weird ones, but it's still not all that great."

Lakefront Holiday Spice, 2010

- Dr. Ken's Rating: 4

- The Locust's Rating: 5.5

Comments: "Don't ever get a beer with "spice" anywhere in the title. Is that curry in there? Holy hell, is that ever bad!?"

Winterkoninske, 2006

- Dr Ken's Rating: 3

- The Locust's Rating: 3

Comments: "This one had a beautiful winter scene on the bottle, but it tasted anything but beautiful. It leaned toward that vinegar taste of the previous one, but not quite as ass-like; but still pretty awful."

Newholland Ichabad Crane, 2010

- Dr. Ken's Rating: 4

- The Locust's Rating: 3

Comments: "This one was on tap, and it was incredibly flat, which ordinarily would be a problem. However, after all these horribly strange-tasting brews, a flat one was just fine."

Pabst Blue Ribbon, 2010 but won the Blue Ribbon a million years ago in 1893.

- Dr. Ken's Rating: 10!

- The Locust's Rating: 10!

Comments

: "I have never been so happy to have a beer that tastes like a beer, even if it's still not all that good. Wow. Best two bucks I ever spent!"

Epilogue: Winter brews are not good and a little evil, actually, but stepping into a cozy and warm hole in the wall on a cold and blustery Chicago night is always a good idea.