Cushy Job

I was a commercial plumber for a spell. Before I became a rock star. Usually we put in new plumbing in schools, offices, etc., but on occasion, we had to do repairs or tie onto a live line. When performing a live tie-on, one must be with the quickness, because water is trickling out and any second you could have someone's present in your lap. Also, one must be with the nimbleness, as the slightest slip could send a spray of water into your face. "Water" that's not fer drinkin. Dig a hole in the hole you're standing in for the water to run into while you're working. You have to work fast. no mistakes. people pooping. Focus. Cut the pipe. Yes. black water speckles your face. Sweet. keep going. no time to wipe off face. slip on rubber bands. ewww. should've worn gloves. no time to think about that now. fight new pipe fitting into place. hands are slippery. fitting falls in the hole. eww. fish it out. hurry. time's a wastin. water's a runnin. poop's a flowin. yes. retrieved it. with the quickness, boy! ew.... too late..........new nickname....................................................turdlap

You Don't See, What I See,

everyday as Warren D, I take a look over my shoulda' as I get olda', gettin' tired of muthafuckas sayin'...D I told ya

well, I didn't axe.
so stop frontin'.
I'm starting to think that the new friends who've been leaving me comments don't really like my blog. In fact, when I tried to pursue a relationship they turned real snotty. I told them how much I enjoyed their blog on personal finances and how much it had impacted my life, like, immediately. I asked them to meet me for lunch to discuss my retirement, and, to like, talk about how we could be better friends and can I come to their house for a bbq? Do you have a pool? Above ground or sunken? Do you have Surround Sound? Do you have an island stove in your kitchen? Do you have your own bowling shoes? I do. Mine have sparkles. Are you spiritual? Do you believe in reincarnation? If you came back as a fly, whose wall would you hang out on? If you came back as a horse, who would you want to ride you?

Here's a funny thing:
If you are in a cover band, (like specific like '50's pop hits cover band, not some lame half and half modern crap rock band trying to build an "audience," then they slip in their cookie-cutter originals when no ones listening in between covers of Stabbing Westward and Filter and) do you really need your own shirts? I mean, wouldn't ya just buy some Beatles, Who, Stones, etc., shirts to sell at your show? If you were wearing one of these shirts around, and someone asked you, "Hey Jack, who's 'Dickhead and the Nards?' What do they sound like?", would you reply with, "Well, they sound like some old-timers doing their best imitation of The Beatles songs--embarrassing themselves as well as disgracing a heroic bands legacy with their overbearing idiocy--Oh, and they dress up like tools to give it an 'authentic' feel--Oh, and they think they are cool because they are massive tools?" Indeed. Check and Mate.
With Spouse.
Invent child.
Name him Wilbur.
After the rat at Gigglebees.
Where the child was conceived.
In the ball pit.
Smelly, smelly ball pit.
Take your shoes off before you go in the smelly ball pit.
I have to poo.
Hmm...
Where else better then this cozy ball pit?
I mean,
I already peed. It's warm.

ASS IN HELL

I was on the west side today, picking up my dirty earth-ruiner, when my lovely Badunkadunk and I decided to stop at Big City Burrito-a fantastic joint with a million different hot sauces at your disposal. I am always trying to impress the misses with my manly manliness, so when ran across the sauce titled ASS IN HELL, I figured I would give it a tiny, TINY try. Three delicious bites in, I decided to give it a little try. Just a little dab to see how it lived up to the name. There is no little dropper on the end of the bottle like you find on tabasco bottles, so I had to be extra careful. I lightly tapped. Just a little tappy-tap. And out comes a molten lava explosion of sauce onto my beautiful burrito. It poured off the top and down the sides, all over my fingers. I was stunned. I quickly turned my burrito upside down to pour some of it out. Out of instinct, I switched the burrito to my other hand and licked a finger. Instantly my face was flushed and I was shocked at the ridiculous heat carried in that small drop of sauce on my finger. Did I learn my lesson and call it a day? Sadly, no. Some kind of confusion led my head down towards the open end of the burrito I had just suffocated with sauce, my mouth opened, and I took a huge bite from the very spot which was swimming with a product labeled with a warning stating the uncomfortables of said product entering into, as well as out of, the body.
Lunch for the day was over. If you can die from a burning mouth, I got lucky. My face was sweating, tears ran down my face, my nose was running--remember that scene from "Dumb and Dumber?"
I sucked down lemonade by the gallon but soon went straight to ice. I had to suck on 3 cups worth before I could even stop whimpering. I am so manly and tough!! Grr!!
The label warning was not just wordy propaganda. Not a pleasant experience on the way in. I have yet to feel the fury of the exit but sense nothing good on that end either.

Quick to the point, to the point no Fakin'

Rumblings in the Sleepeater camp. Studio time breeds greed, hate, evil, and back-stabbing of a ferocious nature. There is trouble afoot. Power struggles and ego clashes. Preproduction panic is a particular pattern of pettiness, posturing, and positivity. Quite quaint, really. Really sucks to undermine valuable, wonderful xylophone yelping zebras.

A Perfect Mouthful

Saturday's sessions in the studio were so sweet. One Lukewarm Water was on fire and on the mark and cranked out the hits like (insert creative metaphor here.)
"With A Sharp Look" and "I'm ON the Side..." came out so fast that we rocked out "WELL-Maintained Plot" just for fun. Then we pulled out guitars and tracked "The Ghost Song Part II" sans suckiness.
This Sat. we're going to do a brand new song the fellas haven't even learned yet. Risky, ya say? Dangerous, ya quip? we're hard like that.

...And You Will Know Me By The Trail Of Smell

momma's so proud of
momma's so proud of her little boy
he's all growed up he's put away his toys
he put away cancer sticks put it into noise
likes long walks in the park, enjoys
long stalks in the dark, enjoys
moonlight and the moon and
whatever else you'd like to assume, enjoys
painting stereotypes enjoys
creating all different kinds
of media files on everyone
your family, friends,
it all depends on the attention you draw to yourself
and how much you love everyone else.
mommas so proud of her little man
he's all growed up he's given up the sandbox
likes long walks short talks tall stalks
become a type of privacy fence
I can see you're tense, but still
but still

Who cut your hair? Helen Keller?

Alcester did not prove itself wrong. It proudly fit the small-town stereotype like O.J. fit into his black gloves. Kind of, but not really. A whole town sat in the back while we cranked out hit after bloody hit. Back to the Future flashbacks. Remember Michael J. Fox rockin balls to that confused crowd? Yes. Or, Spinal Tap, when they play for the military dance? Indeed. One could overhear one positive Poo, or The Light, as he is sometimes known, denouncing rock as religion and giving up the drugs and girls for a more fulfilling life in the convent. I, for two, do not blame him one iota, in fact, I helped him pack. Sleepeater, as we know it friends, is on hiatus for a time none dare to speak about. Don't yell at me, it's not my fault. Blame the economy. Blame Bush Jr. Blame molesters in Alcester. Blame smelly rear axles. Blame Jack Lazer for his never-ending pessimism. How can a group a fellas keep it together with all the nay-saying?
On that positive note, Sleepeater heads into the Cathouse to lay down some tracks this weekend. What do you want to hear recorded? We are taking requests. If you don't know the name of a song, just hum it to me. Current Songs On The Chopping Block:
-The Ghost Song Part II
-With A Sharp Look
-I'm On The Side Of A God Who Dresses In Red
-The Song Hippies Would Dance Around To If They Weren't So Damn Retarded
-The Vercificator
-The Song Danny Wrote That We Never Got Around To Naming
-The Song Zach Wrote That We Never Got Around To Naming
-Hurry Me Into A Well-Maintained Plot
-The Song So New We Haven't Even Finished Writing It Let Alone Naming The Thing

Can You Smellalalalalowwwww, what the D, is cookin?
I doubt it. cause I don't cook that often. I don't believe in cooking something that takes longer to make than it does to eat. It makes no sense. If the gloves do not fit, then you must acquit. It's the Chewbacca theory.

Fat Sajak

we had to cancel a couple of shows cause our van blew up. a sweet show was had Wednesday at the pavillion and kids from Madison came to see us and that was rad and also things that are rad are are radical friends who came to the show, even though they saw us play a few days earlier at Phils and did I say they have excellent taste? but tomorrow we borrow a van, sorrow, man, sorrow, for the band van, but the road is calling us to ALCESTER. WHEEE!! and then Duffy's in Lincoln--I feel like we're cheating on the ole band van with the rental, I think it knows--
All I've done the last year is shove things in my mouth and eat them. So watch where you sit.