Ed. You should perform with bands more often, because that synth player you perform with sometimes is some wacked out shit. I mean seriously....I've heard cats fucking under a house with more rhythm and a sweeter melody.
Out of nowhere, two hippie girls tried to attack me last night at the Flushing Public Square Concert and Festival. I was listening to some of my favorite Grinderswitch songs which were performed in a delightful order when they snuck up behind me. One said, "Don't scream or be quiet." I turned around and grabbed the smaller so-called "flower child" by her ankles and said, "You wouldn't hit a man with glasses, would you?" Before she could respond I lifted her up, face down, and used her head for a pliable hammer to swing at and pummel her zodiac medallion clad accomplice who was larger and the greater menace.
Ladies and Gentlemen, Step right this way: Come one come all to Darpa's first headlining show in Asheville! Thursday April 17 at Emerald Lounge. Discordian Society will be opening and then Darpa will be joined by TWO surprise guests along with the mindbending visuals of Projexorcism.
Pippo was crying like a baby, so I called the Sheriff. He emerged on the beach wearing civilian clothes: wrinkled khakis and a golf shirt that looked like my father's.
MY DREAM. TO SEE MADONNA, MICHAEL JACKSON, BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN AND ALL THE OLD SCHOOLERS IN A PILE GREASED UP WITH SOME SPEED IN A CAN UNDER THE SEA STING OF PREPOSITIONS. IF ONLY I COULD DANCE LIKE A TORNADO. FOOL OF MY SALT.
I was eating a grape Tootsie Roll Pop today and due to the fact that I licked the lollipop voraciously to get to the filling I now have cuts on my tongue. It is fairly painful, but thankfully it's not bleeding.
Recently while driving to my Slimnastics class, I was stopped at a junction on Queens Boulevard. A man stepped directly in front of my car. Then the light turned green, yet the individual did not move a step. Finally I yelled, "Yo, bud, get the hell out of my way!" He remained visible in my mirror. He said, "Sorry, Mr. Heller, I can't. Your car is on top of my foot!"
Before returning to Bulgaria, Mustafio met with a publisher to discuss his writing a travel journal. Mustafio agreed and told the publisher that he would need a notebook. She took Mustafio to a nearby office supply store where he found a notebook that he liked. When the cashier informed him that the price was one dollar, however, Mustafio protested. "This is contemptible!" he said, flipping through the notebook. The publisher asked what he was looking for. "My lunch," he said, "and I'm very hungry."
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