Confirming smart suspicions, which were all he had to go on, young Buck Disposable ventured a godawful guess about the Pants Project that, unfortunately, caused an uproar of uproarious laughter amongst his callow colleagues & kept the normally cool cucumber quiet for the rest of the colloquium.
Buck had never once in his life married any non-vertebrate - although he did once propose to his fern, & to be fair the filicophyte was looking damned sexy at the time - but he did have a bad habit of divorcing nearly every human he did marry. The amount of money he spent on his various ex-whatevers kept those wretches in plenty of fish food, but it kept Buck lean, mean & lacking steam. Witnesses & his affable biographer Notorious Rex have testified to the fact that he began his slippery slide into homicide about this time.
Buck Disposable lost the job at the Pants Project, & the Lawn/Garden Furniture Supervisor job at the Target-Mart, & Sexy Skool Lunch Koordinator gig for Unbelievably Gay Films, & finally ended up working as a Junior Stamp Counter for the United States Post Office. He was busy defacing a recently released Jesse Helms In Drag stamp when he accidentally opened up a National Rifle Association flyer - & the flyer opened up for Buck a whole new world.
Since you know the end of this story, it doesn't bear repeating, but it is the five year anniversary of that exciting slaughter today, & while the survivors & the relatives of the victims insist on digging up Buck's corpse & kicking it for seven full hours, & while his handgun advocate pals prefer to just fire into Buck's corpse repeatedly for hours after that, we here at Self Help Radio thought it would be helpful to catch up on the once infamous, but now barely famous, actors in the Buck Disposable saga - just to let you know "where are they now?"!
- Sara Meal, Buck's steady girl at the time, is still unable to play the piano without prompting.
- Postal Supervisor Clark "The Sorter" Donaldsonovich was in the hospital for a year after the shooting. Doctors told him that they couldn't remove the three bullets around his spine without killing him, which was sort of untrue; the doctors were really tired that day & Donaldsonovich was kind of an asshole. Donaldsonovich is still unable to walk, but the dude just won't shut up.
- "Grandma" Mel Thurb, Buck's hostage for the first twelve minutes & the one who held him hostage for the last twelve minutes, graduated last year from the Police Academy to become the world's oldest female cop at the age of ninety-four. The douchebags who put up those annoying billboards that say "[Insert Quality Here] - Pass It On" were about to put her face all over the country when, during her first stake out, she had a massive stroke & died.
- Newsman Rim Tussert, who covered the affair for nineteen hours, was all set to become a national news reporter for NBC when executives couldn't stop giggling over his first name, ending his career. He now mows lawns in Phoenix.
- Notorious Rex, official biographer of the bloodbath, is writing another goddamned book about it. We can barely fill a blog entry, but this guy... Sheesh.
- You'd think that little Dickie Snead would be much bigger than he was at the time, but he's still runty & smells funny. Maybe at the ten year recap. Weird.
- The fern is looking hot.
More information may or may not be available on this week's podcast of Self Help Radio, available tomorrow (Saturday the 12th), in the afternoon. Please to enjoy.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Bent Barman Blues
I am in the middle of making a new Self Help Radio Extra for your listening enjoyment. How do I do this, you might wonder? Well, if you were me, this is how you would be doing it:
You would do what you always do, which is listen to music pretty much all the time. You have heard this weird thing that people apparently do, which is put music they already like on their mp3-playing device, but you don't do that - you get stuff & you digitize it to listen to it at every possible moment - while on the bus, while napping at your desk, while walking from bus stop to nap. Your mp3-playing device is the crucible in which your radio & other mixes are made pure! So you do that for a couple of weeks. Songs that you like are stored in the back of your mind which, unfortunately, are not always immune to alcohol & its evil erasing ways, so you try to occasionally put them on a playlist for later study. You call this playlist "shrextra." You don't know why.
Then, when you've gathered a few &/or it's time to make a mix for your friends at the Self Help Radio web page, you listen to the songs anew & then you think of other songs to add in (music is a conversation, after all) & after a time you'll notice you've filled some arbitrary quota - voila! Self Help Radio Extra!
As I said, it's not done yet, but by the end of the workday, you'll see a new mix at on the Self Help Radio Extra page. Do listen & enjoy. Not that I wouldn't do it if you don't listen, but I like to think I'm doing it for you.
You would do what you always do, which is listen to music pretty much all the time. You have heard this weird thing that people apparently do, which is put music they already like on their mp3-playing device, but you don't do that - you get stuff & you digitize it to listen to it at every possible moment - while on the bus, while napping at your desk, while walking from bus stop to nap. Your mp3-playing device is the crucible in which your radio & other mixes are made pure! So you do that for a couple of weeks. Songs that you like are stored in the back of your mind which, unfortunately, are not always immune to alcohol & its evil erasing ways, so you try to occasionally put them on a playlist for later study. You call this playlist "shrextra." You don't know why.
Then, when you've gathered a few &/or it's time to make a mix for your friends at the Self Help Radio web page, you listen to the songs anew & then you think of other songs to add in (music is a conversation, after all) & after a time you'll notice you've filled some arbitrary quota - voila! Self Help Radio Extra!
As I said, it's not done yet, but by the end of the workday, you'll see a new mix at on the Self Help Radio Extra page. Do listen & enjoy. Not that I wouldn't do it if you don't listen, but I like to think I'm doing it for you.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Whither Indiepop A To Z # 15?
Do you pants ever seem to be making fun of you? Please take that question in whichever way you want as long as it's not the naughty way. Oh, also the weight-issue way. Hadn't thought of that one.
The writer of this blog is trying very hard not to refer to himself in the first person.
What? Oh crap! The Blog Annotator has invaded the Self Help Radio blog!
The writer of this blog is trying to take your attention away from the comment above. The Blog Annotator shall repeat:
The writer of this blog is trying very hard not to refer to himself in the first person.
What's wrong with that? A radio show is not a person, & sometimes (like in this case) the person who does the radio show is really only half a person. Maybe five-eighths. Whatever. The meaning is clear.
The Blog Annotator does not know about this meaning of which you speak.
Take for example one of Blogspot's "blogs of note" or whatever (which Self Help Radio has never been noted for, thanks Blogspite), Cooking With Amy. This is a site with recipes & pictures of food. A quick count yielded over forty uses of the first-person pronoun on the first page. It's a page about cooking! It's supposed to just have directions & lists of ingredients!
The Blog Annotator takes your point. However, the Blog Annotator has checked the first page of this blog & found the use of the first-person pronoun on the last week's worth of posts to number over seventy. The Blog Annotator points out that this blog is supposed to be a supplement to a weekly radio show.
You're a real douche, you know that?
You're an egotistical pansy-assed pseudo-intellectual whose browser cache hasn't been emptied in weeks.
Yeah? Well then you're a son of a virus & a pop-up viagra ad left to grow like scum on a Fox News web site nurtured by the fevered clicks of delusional assholes who daydream of ass-fucking the President while the Vice-President shoots them in the face.
.......
God nothing to say to that, Blog Masturbator?
Um. The Blog Annotator is stunned & overwhelmed by your graphic insult.
Damn right!
The writer of this blog is trying very hard not to refer to himself in the first person.
What? Oh crap! The Blog Annotator has invaded the Self Help Radio blog!
The writer of this blog is trying to take your attention away from the comment above. The Blog Annotator shall repeat:
The writer of this blog is trying very hard not to refer to himself in the first person.
What's wrong with that? A radio show is not a person, & sometimes (like in this case) the person who does the radio show is really only half a person. Maybe five-eighths. Whatever. The meaning is clear.
The Blog Annotator does not know about this meaning of which you speak.
Take for example one of Blogspot's "blogs of note" or whatever (which Self Help Radio has never been noted for, thanks Blogspite), Cooking With Amy. This is a site with recipes & pictures of food. A quick count yielded over forty uses of the first-person pronoun on the first page. It's a page about cooking! It's supposed to just have directions & lists of ingredients!
The Blog Annotator takes your point. However, the Blog Annotator has checked the first page of this blog & found the use of the first-person pronoun on the last week's worth of posts to number over seventy. The Blog Annotator points out that this blog is supposed to be a supplement to a weekly radio show.
You're a real douche, you know that?
You're an egotistical pansy-assed pseudo-intellectual whose browser cache hasn't been emptied in weeks.
Yeah? Well then you're a son of a virus & a pop-up viagra ad left to grow like scum on a Fox News web site nurtured by the fevered clicks of delusional assholes who daydream of ass-fucking the President while the Vice-President shoots them in the face.
.......
God nothing to say to that, Blog Masturbator?
Um. The Blog Annotator is stunned & overwhelmed by your graphic insult.
Damn right!
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Preface To Indiepop A To Z # 15 - You'll Never Catch Me In Those Tired Shorts!
When you read about Tonga - & why wouldn't you? - you learn a lot of things that you might not ever have learned & further will never ever need to learn again. For example: Tonga and nearby Nauru have the world’s fattest populations. Also: 70% of Tongan women aged 15-85 are obese. & then: Tongan women are known for being skillful jugglers. Amazing!
Before you dismiss this as meaningless trivia, which it is, you may want to pause & reflect on how little you know about the world. Do you remember how stupid you felt at a recent gathering when someone corrected your assertion that Europe was a country? "Next to Italy, I think," you said. There was not a chance of getting laid that night & you knew it. Or what about the recent events in Columbia? Didn't you say, "I thought Columbia was that place where the two goth kids killed everyone." Sure, you let people think you were joking - nice save! - but that's only because you have a reputation for being monstrously unfunny. Don't you ever want to have sex again?
If you must learn about the world, why not start with Tonga? It's a very quiet pursuit - short of some irritating folks who may believe that "Lost" is filmed there, no one really cares about Tonga. Except, of course, the people who live there. But what's the chance you'll ever meet someone from Tonga? About as much a chance as meeting someone who's ever heard of Tonga! Just by learning a little about Tonga, you'll automatically know more than pretty much anyone. & you'll finally get to know how that feels.
You might want to stay away from this guy, though. He will most certainly know more about Tonga than you do. Not that you travel in the same circles, though - just be careful.
Tonga is only the beginning, you know. You can learn about all kinds of stuff. Some of it may actually be interesting. Then you'll know all kinds of stuff. & then - let the loving commence!
Before you dismiss this as meaningless trivia, which it is, you may want to pause & reflect on how little you know about the world. Do you remember how stupid you felt at a recent gathering when someone corrected your assertion that Europe was a country? "Next to Italy, I think," you said. There was not a chance of getting laid that night & you knew it. Or what about the recent events in Columbia? Didn't you say, "I thought Columbia was that place where the two goth kids killed everyone." Sure, you let people think you were joking - nice save! - but that's only because you have a reputation for being monstrously unfunny. Don't you ever want to have sex again?
If you must learn about the world, why not start with Tonga? It's a very quiet pursuit - short of some irritating folks who may believe that "Lost" is filmed there, no one really cares about Tonga. Except, of course, the people who live there. But what's the chance you'll ever meet someone from Tonga? About as much a chance as meeting someone who's ever heard of Tonga! Just by learning a little about Tonga, you'll automatically know more than pretty much anyone. & you'll finally get to know how that feels.
You might want to stay away from this guy, though. He will most certainly know more about Tonga than you do. Not that you travel in the same circles, though - just be careful.
Tonga is only the beginning, you know. You can learn about all kinds of stuff. Some of it may actually be interesting. Then you'll know all kinds of stuff. & then - let the loving commence!
Monday, July 07, 2008
Voicemail To Voicemail
Long three day weekends are never wasted by naps. The same is true with long, boring college classes. Naps are essential components of life, even if you're not very good at them. Which some of us are not. But perhaps someone can tell us how to nap. I don't know about you, but reading that thing made me sleepy.
Something that might keep you awake is this past week's episode of Self Help Radio, which had the improbable theme of "Saturday Night." You can listen to this show here & no matter what day it is, you can turn your it into Saturday night. I can say that another way. No matter what time of day it is, you can turn it into Saturday night. I can't say it any other way.
Since I work during the week like some people I know, I often cannot commit to the napping process. This makes me all forty-two kinds of sad. I consume large qualities of caffeine which is luckily available in easy-to-urinate soda bottle flavors. I occasionally wander out from the frigidaire air conditioning into the "real world" which in the summer in Texas is about three degrees cooler (Centigrade or Fahrenheit, it makes no difference for this hyperbole) than the average temperature of Hell, & the effect is much like an accidental belly flop in a public pool. (By the way, we called those "belly busters" when I was a kid, & trying to find images or videos of that online was a bust. Instead, "belly buster" seems to be a synonym for dieting. Or a chain restaurant in California. Or both.) I try to take seconds-long cat naps at the desk which make me seem drunk & stupid. Sometimes these things help, sometimes they don't. Mostly they don't. God I am sleepy.
I can't think of anything more to say about naps. But I have run out of time to leave you voicemail. I meant to leave you voicemail so you could leave me voicemail. I wanted to ask your something. No I can't. But don't call back right now. Call me back when you're sure I have remembered what I was going to say.
Something that might keep you awake is this past week's episode of Self Help Radio, which had the improbable theme of "Saturday Night." You can listen to this show here & no matter what day it is, you can turn your it into Saturday night. I can say that another way. No matter what time of day it is, you can turn it into Saturday night. I can't say it any other way.
Since I work during the week like some people I know, I often cannot commit to the napping process. This makes me all forty-two kinds of sad. I consume large qualities of caffeine which is luckily available in easy-to-urinate soda bottle flavors. I occasionally wander out from the frigidaire air conditioning into the "real world" which in the summer in Texas is about three degrees cooler (Centigrade or Fahrenheit, it makes no difference for this hyperbole) than the average temperature of Hell, & the effect is much like an accidental belly flop in a public pool. (By the way, we called those "belly busters" when I was a kid, & trying to find images or videos of that online was a bust. Instead, "belly buster" seems to be a synonym for dieting. Or a chain restaurant in California. Or both.) I try to take seconds-long cat naps at the desk which make me seem drunk & stupid. Sometimes these things help, sometimes they don't. Mostly they don't. God I am sleepy.
I can't think of anything more to say about naps. But I have run out of time to leave you voicemail. I meant to leave you voicemail so you could leave me voicemail. I wanted to ask your something. No I can't. But don't call back right now. Call me back when you're sure I have remembered what I was going to say.