Billy Sugarfix's Surreal O' Rama

Gonna get this podcast

2010-08-29T14:05:00.001-07:00

I can feel it!

Yet another podcast test

2010-08-29T13:53:00.000-07:00

Here's another test run

now we're testing it

2010-08-29T13:27:00.001-07:00

Listen to this

Test this cast

2010-08-29T13:23:00.000-07:00

Music Video

2010-05-18T10:50:00.001-07:00

When Family Jewels and Family Trees Meet

2007-04-26T19:30:00.000-07:00

Dirty Billy

2007-04-24T17:58:00.001-07:00

Vote For Your Favorite Song Poem!!!

2007-04-12T20:09:00.000-07:00

Vote for the Song Poem that is your favorite by leaving a comment indicating which one you like the most!

Here they are, Click on the Title to hear the song:

THE SEAT DANCE
See Lyrics Here

Thrift Store Drifter
See Lyrics Here

That Girl
See Lyrics Here

A Piney Path
See Lyrics Here

These are the Things We Say in Bars, These are the Things We Do
See Lyrics Here

Surreal O'Rama Song Poem Contest Winner Number 5 !!!!

2007-04-10T18:05:00.001-07:00

THE SEAT DANCE
(click on the title to hear the song)

By Michael Gregorovich

I gotta new dance and it’s really neat,
Ya don’t even hafta leave your seat
Don’t get up, just sit right there
and Wave your feet and hands in the air
Do the Seat Dance

It’s the Seat Dance,
You can find romance
Even if you’re lazy
And even if it makes you look crazy,
Do the Seat Dance

The new Seat Dance is the talk of the town,
You don’t even have to get up to get down,
Your feet don’t hafta touch the ground,
but do ya Have enough energy ta wiggle around?
Do the Seat Dance

Even if you’re lazy, you still can win,
If you have a swivel, you can even spin,
You can dance while ya watch t.v.,
Who says couch potatoes aren’t healthy?
Do the Seat Dance

Don’t leave your seat, just stomp your feet
n’ Shake yer derriere n’ wave your hands in the air,
Ya don’t hafta diet or train ta try it,
do theSeat Dance
without a care, that’s it,
Do the Seat Dance

Do ya have the knack of the New Seat Dance?
You won’t
Wear out yer shoes butchyou’ll wear out yer pants

If you’re not tuckered out from sittin’ about,
let’s
Do the Seat Dance,
let’s sit and shout,
Do the Seat Dance

That’s it! You got it!
That’s the Seat Dance, sugar!
S-E-A-T,D-A-N,C-E,
Do the Seat Dance

Nawt Yeht

2007-04-09T20:21:00.000-07:00

Hey Y'all,

Welp. We're running a little behind here at Sugarfix Manor. I know that the last Song Poem Bizarre Lyrics Contest winner is supposed to be up today, but as you can see it is not. I'll put it up tomorrow or Wednesday. In the mean time, enjoy this:

So, I have this friend, we’ll call him Candlemas, who bought some incense which consisted merely of sawdust from the wood of a certain type of Pear Tree which grows chiefly in Caucasus, Turkey.

Although very fragrant, this incense did not burn well. Candlemas found that you needed to use an aluminum cased angle torch and a sprinkle of gunpowder to get it to light at all.

I know what you’re thinking: and in a way, it was a very bad idea. Candlemas found this out when a nearby aerosol can containing deodorant exploded. The deodorant was comprised of chemicals aplenty and a fair amount of salt from Thailand. When its chemical component ignited, the non-chemical portion shot into the air where it collided with the smoke from the burning pear tree dust and began to congeal and swirl.

This coil of particles, according to Candlemas, became more intense in both speed and density and then suddenly stopped. As though some force had pulled the universe’s emergency break, the world around him ground to a halt, and when Candlemas had recovered from the shock, he found himself staring at an opaque opossum and whether or not you pronounce the O in opossum is entirely up to you.

This opossum proceeded to tell Candlemas that since he had been freed from the trees of Caucasus and the seas of Thailand he would therefore grant one wish to the being who had unearthed the spell which had released him.

And so, my friend Candlemas soon found himself in possession of a time machine filled with money. He promptly entrusted half of the money to me, told me to treat myself to as much fine South American cuisine as I desired, and took off for the 1970s to bet on an ostrich race.

And that, dear readers, is all that we have of the story for the moment. Hopefully we’ll hear from Candlemas soon, but in the mean time I’m way behind in regards to the winning song from our Song Poem Bizarre Lyrics Contest.

VKQ!
Billy

Surreal O'Rama Song Poem Contest Winner Number 4 !!!!

2007-04-06T05:17:00.000-07:00

Thrift Store Drifter
(click on title to hear song)

by Anthony John Downs

Spoken: DJ Dedtony with another one,,,,

I'm a thrift store drifter,
baby drift with me,
part time shop lifter,
come lift with me...

It was a Saturday in the afternoon,
I was at a second hand, playin sticky hand goon,
I got big pockets in this leisure suit,
so I can lift all this less than 50 cent loot,
I took an 8-track by Shaun Cassidy,
a couple of spoons and a wire for my CB,
Cuz, you gotta see:

I'm a thrift store drifter,
baby drift with me,
part time shop lifter,
come lift with me...

People see me in my Sunday best,
Beat it zipper jeans and a hippy vest,
Rockin' a really cool foolish derby,
with a shirt that reads "Hammer Couldn't hurt Me!"
Yeah, I know you're gettin' jealous,
Cuz your shoplift hand can't be as zealous,
Some got it all and some of us don't,
Some lift at the mall, while some of us won't,
They just don't have what I'm lookin' for,
Where else could I score a scorecard from Boggle?
Get off the bottle, I'm your new role model!
All of y'all wanna follow me cuz:

I'm a thrift store drifter,
baby drift with me,
part time shop lifter,
come lift with me...

I wish you would come to my residence,
I've got so much cool new evidence,
To prove I'm the thrift store theifin' president,
and I won't be hesitant to show you my new rug,
that used to be a floor mat from Walgreen drugs,
my chair with the hair dryer all in the back,
call me a liar and you'll find yourself off track,
I'll let you watch my b and W that blew a fuse,
with the bent ol' rabbit ears that lets you hear the news,
I got a can opener with no blade,
but who eats all that canned food anyways?
Y'all are just gettin' too darn spoiled nowadays,
let me end this song this way:

I'm a thrift store drifter,
baby drift with me,
part time shop lifter,
come lift with me...

Surreal O'Rama Song Poem Contest Winner Number 3 !!!!

2007-04-01T16:57:00.000-07:00

That Girl
(Click on the title to hear the song)

By David L. Borland

That Girl

I know that girl, she is fine as can be
to look in her eyes is exercise

She has a gloss to make STEVEN see
Even RAY will agree that

That girl is the girl for me
That girl is the girl for me

Whe SHE’s walking down the street
Her hips swish from chin to chin (AH WOO BA DOO)

Her body heat feels the air
Guys come out from everywhere
Their body heat being to risen

Their hearts beat from beat to beat
Because they know that girl is walking down the street (AH WOO BA DOO)

That girl is the girl for me

She drives a ROLLS that is custom built
Her finances make WALL STREET tremble

That girl is the girl for me
That girl is the girl for me

That gloss in her eyes makes our love come alive
She pleases me to the end of time

That girl is the girl for me
That girl is the girl for me

Origamiracles

2007-03-28T09:17:00.000-07:00

The Brooklyn 5 and 10 gives you the chance to see the pulp of trees form into Mexican Pecking Chickens or flying pigs. You can also grow gardens from eggs or plant magic matches to grow wildflowers or herbs.

My favorite from their prodigious parade of products is Strange Faces Origami (pictured above) which allows you to create a whole cadre of macabre characters. I must warn you that they might grow up and become monsters of the same magnitude as Batman's Folded Foe, the Paper Man. But, more likely they will just become Strippers .

I'll trust your judgement on this matter, because you, my dear readers, are coruscating clusters of class and culture.

The URL is: brooklyn5and10.com

Surreal O'Rama Song Poem Contest Winner Number 2 !!!!

2007-03-26T19:23:00.000-07:00

A Piney Path
(Click on the title to hear the song)

By Diana K. Woodhouse

I walk along a piney path
Then sit beside a tree
I spy a ray of bright sunlight
Filtered through canopy

I sense a glow upon my face
Feeling your warmth and loving grace
A chill goes down my spine
Enchanted by this peace of mine

Still more amazed by heart and soul
Emotion like a flame
It brings us joy and makes us whole
When we forsake it brings us shame

Oh how you shelter and protect
We take for granted and neglect
You give us fuel to grow
And knowledge that we’ll never know

Your precious gifts, a prodigy
Let us embrace your mystery

NEXT WINNING SONG WILL BE POSTED ON APRIL 2!!!!

Chinese Fashion Show

2007-03-22T21:40:00.000-07:00

If you thought the fire drills were cool, then you'll love seeing their latest apparel creations at Yahoo News

Onychomycosis

2007-03-22T21:25:00.000-07:00

I have twin scrapes, one on each elbow. They are perfectly identical and placed in exact symmetry. I have no idea how they got there but if it is due to alien abduction I will certainly be disappointed. I thought the aliens and I had a better relationship than that. I don’t understand why they have to keep sneaking into my bedroom at night instead of just knocking on the door like everyone else.

These two Gemenis of scabdom that were possibly bestowed on me by extraterrestrials can get a bit itchy, but I’m glad to report that my feet are doing much better. This is due to the fact that I apply generous amounts of vics vapor rub to them on a regular basis. Call me old fashioned, but it works.

For every yin there’s a yang, and whereas I’ve found wondrous uses for vics vapor rub, I cannot for the life of me conjure a valid function for menthol scented nasal dilators. They certainly don’t stop me from snoring like they’re supposed to. But hey, in a universe where vics vapor rub cures onychomycosis (ON-i-ko-my-KO-sis) there must be something I can do with them.

Please (Email Me (billysugarfixATgmailDOTcom)
if you have suggestions as to a useful purpose for menthol scented nasal dilators, and please, no perverts.

I would like to end this post by presenting a poem that explains thoroughly the nasty phenomenon of onychomycosis.

Onychomycosis
is something rather grotesque
it gets you where you’re lowest
it’s known as toe nail fungus

It turns your toe nails
into snail shells
as though a witch
had cast a spell

sometimes brown
and sometimes yellow
he can be a nasty fellow

onychomycosis
as though my toes were possessed
a voodoo needle’s target
petrified and off white

Onychomycosis
my toe nails are atrocious

Aries Allstars

2007-03-21T18:03:00.000-07:00

A big Surreal O'Rama Salute to all the children of spring! Move your mouse over the postcard and it will reveal the name of one of these rad rams!

..and of course, here's Harvey Sid Fisher with a little snippet from his fine astrology song collection...

Surreal O'Rama Song Poem Contest Winner Number 1 !!!!

2007-03-20T17:05:00.000-07:00

These are the Things We Say in Bars, These are the Things We Do
(Click the title to listen)

By Erin Boyd

Fish. Birds. Schools flying in figure eights to the
copulating rhythm of the universe.

How about we leave soon?

The New York Metropolitan, let's go in.
Succumb to the puerile methods used in what we call
modern expressionism.
Hefty bags of human hair forming birth-sack nests to rest
your sagging flesh in.

Refuel little jetfighter, your urd awaits, your star sack is
near empty.

These are the things we say in bars.
These are the things we do.

entropy...entropy...
Take you and your last Good Find.
Go to a nearby star and sleep.
It has happened before but never so bad.

Your cargo holds are filled with the last hope of a beginning.
Software is out there tracking your every move.
Good thing for you your ship is outfitted with the latest in
avoidance technology.
Take on the impossible and know it will never, ever happen.
X-85's move across the sky, but watch out for their direction.
From light years away... you have been chosen -
your help will now show us what you're made of.

How about we leave soon?

Though amused by the far reaches of space, it's still finders-keepers.
Good luck tracking your last hope:
just beyond light speed, long enough to be home.
Something is flashing...
Light penetrates.
Studdering image stuck to the floor flashing...
and there's no time to escape through the unseen door behind you.
So slide silently now with a moustache and dark glasses.
See how the old stuck to the old and you struck like something new.
Curiously flashing, curiously stuck.

These are the things we say in bars.
These are the things we do.

THE NEXT WINNING SONG WILL POSTED ON MARCH 27! STAY TUNED!

Space Talk from Dimension Eugene

2007-03-19T17:37:00.000-07:00

Two Headed Pig Born in China

2007-03-15T10:24:00.000-07:00

Two noses, three eyes! Yahoo News

The Dairy Fountain of Youth

2007-03-15T10:11:00.000-07:00

Happy Birthday to Hryhoriy Nestor, the Ukrane's proudest pisces! At age 116 Mr. Nestor is thought to be the oldest person in the world!!!! He credits his longevity to never having been married. What kind of diet does the world's oldest human recommend? Potatoes, milk, cheese and vodka!

Read all about it on the BBC

Bespeckled

2007-03-13T15:11:00.000-07:00

This lucky toddler finds herself inside a giant pink balloon at Yayoi Kusama's incredible Dots Obsession Exhibit

Photos from
Yahoo News and here's another!

Listen to Dots and Obsessions by Quallofill

Lavatory Levity

2007-03-12T11:01:00.000-07:00

Hey boys and girls. Today we have some tips from the
World Toilet Organization (WTO)
and the

Now, here's some crappy (and I mean that literally) music from Mitch Mitchell (Jimmy Hendrix Experience? Guided by Voices? your guess is as good as mine). Here's
Butt Song 3.

Let's keep the bowels moving now with Mark Cohen's Brown Water.

Happy Panic Day

2007-03-09T19:23:00.000-08:00

Oh what perfect perilous parralelism. Today, March 9, is recognized officially as Panic Day , and as you ALL KNOW tomorrow is the deadline for submissions to the Surreal O'Rama Song Poem Bizarre Lyrics Contest!!!!

CLICK HERE TO SUBMIT YOUR LYRICS(billysugarfixATgmailDOTcom)

Simply EVERYONE is talking about it. Here's a swell article in The Independent Weekly's blog SCAN! We got the front page in last Wednesday's Daily Tarheel. And in short the entire internet is abuzz with chatter of our eccentric balladry. Just LOOK at all of this; Carrboro Commons!!! , Mann's World, Orange Chat , Atomic Books, and Carrboro.com!!!!

So, if you haven't submitted, do it soon! The balance of the hour glass is not on your side, but you are a gleaming cluster of wonder, and I have boundless bundles of faith in your abilities.

Diminutive Terpsichorean

2007-03-07T12:22:00.000-08:00

The Astounding Universe of the Song Poem

2007-03-05T17:12:00.000-08:00

two rows and two columns

Whether you were an oddball who took sketchy magazine advertisements seriously, a shady recording industry misfit, or a cynical freak who liked to test boundaries, then you may have found yourself within the mystical realm of the song poem, especially if you came of age in the 1970s. I'm not going to go into the entire history of this incredible fringe genre of American pop music. You can learn all of that here . I would like to suggest that you visit WFMU's Blog to hear some samples. I especially like this one .

Well, folks, here at the Surreal O'Rama we're trying to bring the 70s back by hosting our own song poem contest. You supply the lyrics, we'll take care of the rest.

Email your submission now!!!(billysugarfixATgmailDOTcom)

Follow This Link to find other wonderful pages about song poems.

The following is John Trubee's "Peace and Love (a blind man's penis)", possibly the most famous song poem in the galaxy!

Court Room (Surreal O')Drama

2007-02-28T13:24:00.000-08:00

Big up to the jury at the Scooter Libby trial for bringing a pinch of dreaminess to the court room earlier this month. Here's what the New York Times had to say about it.

Before the jurors departed on Wednesday afternoon, they filed into the courtroom, all but one wearing bright red T-shirts with a white valentine heart over their clothes, to the uncertain laughter of many in the courtroom.

But as one juror, a retired North Carolina schoolteacher, rose to speak, Judge Walton became visibly anxious that the juror might say something inappropriate that could threaten the trial. Jurors are not supposed to speak and are supposed to make any concerns known through notes to the bench.

The juror said they were wearing the shirts to express their fondness for the judge and the court staff on Valentine's Day. He then added, to the judge's growing discomfort, that they were unanimous in this sentiment, but they would all be independent in judging the evidence in the Libby case.

The sole juror who apparently declined to wear the shirt was a woman who had been a curator at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Ghost Before Breakfast

2007-02-27T21:26:00.000-08:00

Meet the Judges

2007-02-26T16:32:00.000-08:00
Here they are, the intrepid men who will be reviewing your lyrics!

Seth Falkner
Urban Coffee Podcast

Seth, along with his friend Dave, host the extremely popular Urban Coffee Podcast. Their witty insights on politics, technology, and music provide the listener with a truly interesting hour+ program. The way that they relate to one another is truly entertaining, a modern take on the classic comedy team which includes the straight man (Dave) and his whacky counterpart (Seth). What makes it work so well, is that they fill these roles naturally. There is no acting involved and the comedic effect is never contrived.

Seth, who is a recording engineer when not hosting the cast, presents a special segment on each episode known as "Seth's Music Cafe" in which he highlights notable artists. Another semi-regular feature on the show is R&B poetry, which features Dave and Seth reciting lyrics from mainstream R&B acts in an academic style, providing their listeners with a good laugh, and a look at how vulnerable the naked lyric actually is. We can only hope that some of our entries will live up to these standards.

Jad Fair
Jadfair.org

Punk Rock, New Wave, Indie Rock, Alternative, what have you, Jad Fair either invented, helped define, or at the very least was a pioneer of all these things. He is most famous for his work with Half Japanese, the band that he formed with his brother in 1975. He has also released a plethora of solo albums, and has collaborated with artists such as Daniel Johnston, Yo La Tengo, Kramer and Teenage Fanclub. Jad is the perfect judge for a song poem contest, not only because he has extensive knowledge of the genre, but simply because the songs that he writes are so poetic. As the band wails in any number of directions, Jad will release streams of imagery about love, sea monsters, wishes, love, and love. If you ever find yourself feeling apathetic towards your pursuit of music listening, or feeling like you're tired of it all, put on a Half Japanese record, or cassette, or even an mp3, and float on it, for days.

Franklin Bruno
Franklin Bruno on Wikipedia

Franklin Bruno is a Philosophy professor, songwriter, music critic, and a pretty damned amazing guitarist as well. He's been releasing solo projects since the cassette only days and has worked in a number of bands including Nothing Painted Blue, The Extra Glenns (with John Darnelle of the Mountain Goats), and most recently The Human Hearts. He has also worked with such indie rock heavy hitters as Beck, Guided by Voices and The Gobetweens. Jenny Toomey (from the band Tsunami) along with Calexico released an entire album of Franklin Bruno covers.

One of the things that I like most about Franklin's lyrics is that they are not only intelligent, but make me feel smart for understanding them. They manage to fare the slippery slope of being lofty in content yet clear in meaning. His classic song "Levitate" (later released under the title Masonic Eye) is one of my favorites of all time.

In addition to all his talents as a musician, Franklin also writes music criticism for The Village Voice, Time Out New York, and Salon.com.

More Human Hearts Songs on Large Hearted Boy

David Gutowski

Large Hearted Boy
Large Hearted Boy is a fantastic piece of internet pop culture. David Gutowski mines the web and presents his readers with snippets from (and links to) all sorts of articles relating to music and literature. You can find out what Lemony Snickett is listening to, learn about John Waters' latest compilation album, get the scoop on the forthcoming Silver Jews movie and more. All of these things are found in the "Shorties" section of his blog, which is only one portion of what he presents to us daily. In addition, we also get the "Bittorrent Brunch" which gives us links to download live performances from some of indie rock's finest. And of course there are "Daily Downloads", legal mp3s that form a virtual feast for the ears. Hours and hours and hours can be spent on Large Hearted Boy, and it's hard to believe that David also maintains a 24 hour streaming Guided by Voices radiostation and a food blog ( Too Much Pork).

Pisces Parade

2007-02-20T17:08:00.000-08:00
A Surreal O'Rama Salute in the form of a postcard to fabulous fish past and present.

Images Provided by Topical Postcards.com

Dairy Drama

2007-02-19T14:15:00.000-08:00

CLICK HERE FOR AN AUDIO PRESENTATION OF THIS POST

You may have noticed that I have not been posting much about my illustrious musical career as of late. The reason for this is simple. Evil Wiener, my band of so many years, was recently purchased by Baskin Robbins.

You see, a few days ago I visited one of Basin Robbins’ many conveniently located parlors and was overtaken by the hypnotic reveries of a mixed Love Potion # 31 Pink Bubble Gum milkshake . Whilst deep in the blissful throes of frozen dairy wonder I was approached by a man in a pink leisure suit, and to make a long story short Evil Wiener was traded for another milkshake. It seemed like a good deal at the time, but when Chuck was informed that from this day forth he would be playing drums with waffle cones he was none too pleased. Nor was groves when he was handed a bass that resembled a giant pink spoon.

They locked the three of us in a very cold room together, and told Chuck and Groves to practice. I was given the responsibility of composing jingles for all 31 flavors, and was just settling into my task when the walls trembled and a portly man in a tie-dyed shirt burst through the sheet metal surface which, as it turned out, was all that separated us from the outside world.

“Hello, my name is Ben” he said “I’m sorry Jerry couldn’t make it, but he got a little crazy with some reverse chocolate chunk last night.”

Ben then opened a container of Turtle Cheesecake, sampled a bit, snapped a photograph, and jotted down a few words in a note pad. He repeated these actions 30 times. Within three minutes he had finished, and he motioned for us to follow him through the hole he’d made in the wall. Soon, we were outside again on a sunny street that we now call freedom.

Evil Wiener is safe for the moment, but negotiations with Baskin Robbins are still underway. All I can say is that I hope our next gig will not be in a freezer.

Today's images supplied by Scott Moon of scottmoon.net. Do visit his site. It is wonderful!

Bee Ball Bazaar

2007-02-15T06:52:00.000-08:00

Ignus Fatuus For Home Viewing

2007-02-12T12:58:00.000-08:00

Vision Researcher Michael Bach can take your eyes on a brain gem rollercoaster ride of sights and knowledge in this wonderful Optical Illusion Tour.

Zero Gravity Art provides us with some more optical trickery, and can put your favorite illusion on a clock, journal, mouse pad, coffe cup or t-shirt!

But what about your ears?

Yoshitaka Nakajima, Takayuki Sasaki, & Gert ten Hoopen can demonstrate a whole host of auditory illusions, such as the incredible

Melody of Silences

or the Discontinuous Change of Time Perception Caused by Time-shrinking.

You don't have to be Axl Rose to use these illusions!!!

Poultry

2007-02-06T19:53:00.000-08:00

Each time you click on a cluck, you will be transported to a new and differnt world
of feathery fun featuring those beloved barnyard birds known as chickens.
CLUCK
cluck
bawk

bock

Bgaaaawk!!!

squaawk

cock

A
doodle

doo

Big thanks to Mark Klotz for providing today's picture.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!

2007-02-05T10:49:00.000-08:00
Today, February 5, is my birthday, so it's all about ME ME ME!

Happy Birthday Mareva Galanter

2007-02-04T11:28:00.000-08:00
Today is the birthday of former Ms. Tahiti/current French underground pop sensation Mareva Galanter. Here she is with a stunning video for "On roule à 160". Tomorrow is MY birthday.

Visit Mareva's Flashtastic Website

Matryomin

2007-01-31T20:21:00.000-08:00

All About Beagles

2007-01-30T01:11:00.000-08:00
CLICK HERE FOR AN AUDIO PRESENTATION OF THIS POST.

Ever have one of those days when you volunteer for a cryogenics experiment and wake up two thousand years in the future in a cold puddle? If the answer is no, then I'm sorry. It was a great day all in all.

Q-tips are all the rage in the future. Not only can they clean your ears with a mad intensity, they can also book you a reservation on the 4:40 shuttle flight to Mercury. They are also excellent at keeping secrets. In the future, you can tell a Q-tip absolutely anything and rest assured that it will never leave the fine cotton crown of this most precious of hygiene items.

Today, I told a Q-tip that she looked just like a miniature baton, and she giggled. I then proceeded to tell her all about beagles, which really isn't a secret or anything, but still it was a great experiement.

I rode from the future to the present on a lovely old bus roughly the size of a cloud with a dazzling red coat on. I wondered why it was wearing the coat but was quick to discover that time travel can be cold, as can typing at 4:23 in the morning, but still, it's great to be back here in the 21st century, and some day I will invite you all over for a game of "Recognize the Modem™".

Mouse Magic

2007-01-29T16:16:00.000-08:00

Oh no, it's not just something that moves a cursor and clicks. Not any more. The object beneath your hand is a tool of unknown possibilities, but there are some people who are exploring the exciting new medium of mouse manipulation. Here are a few examples.

Use your mouse tomake your own Jackson Pollock -esque Picture

Here's a similar more fluid design maker by Mr. Paul Neave

With the Line To Experimental by Volcanic Penguin you can make a virtual Spyro-graph design!

This lil thing called Grappa-Blue Random is like an etch-a-sketch for the new millenium

And finally there is Jason Nelson's Undirection it would take a while to describe, so I would recommend that you just Click here to begin your journey

If you know of any fun,colorful or just plain weird, mouse manipulation sites
Send me an email or leave a comment on the blog. I'd loooooooooove to know about them!

Who is Tara Bus(c)h?

2007-01-25T16:54:00.000-08:00
Cover yer kiddie's eyes, today's tidbit is a little racy. What we have here are two ladies with the same name who both make dreamy videos albeit for very different reasons.

I'm a huge fan of abstract music videos, and of the Theremin, plus I don't mind nude women either. I never imagined that all three of these things could collide to form a virtual Reese's cup for the eyes and ears such as you are about to see. Tara Busch (with a "c") is an actress/model/musician who splits her time between LA and NC. Here's her video for Motorcrash;

Tara Busch's Myspace

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Tara Bush (no "c") from what I have gathered makes custom videos geared towards individuals with balloon fetishes. Regardless of whether or not you fit into this category (I'm pleading the fifth here), hopefully you can appreciate the colorful qualities of this clip.

Pan's Labyrinth

2007-01-24T15:09:00.000-08:00

Faeries, Fauns, Monsters with eyes in their hands, Giant Frogs, Enchanted Portals and a maze full of visual treats make Pan's Labyrinth the Surreal O'Rama must see movie of the month!

A little girl and her mother move in with her evil step-father who is a murderous captain in Franco's Army at the end of the Spanish Civil War. The woods are full of Rebels that are dead set on defeating the captain, but also are full of mythical creatures determined to help fulfill a prophecy involving the little girl.

Not only is this film amazing to watch, but you will also get a chance to practice your Spanish as it was hecho in Mexico!

I would recommend viewing this film with perrier, served cold in the bottle, no ice, and perhaps four or five Montpelier Maple Macaroons.

Official Website

View a clip from the film

Assorted Trailers

Listen to Fresh Air interview with Director Guillermo del Toro

Snow Globe

2007-01-22T20:14:00.000-08:00
Last week, here in old Dixie, we ALMOST had snow, which started me a hankerin' for some of the white fluffy stuff that just doesn't seem to fall here anymore. I do have some esoteric skills, but unfortunately they do not extend into the realm of controlling the weather. That being the case, I turned to a medium that I'm sure you are all familiar with, which is the ever mesmerizing Snow Globe.

Most of us have probably seen snow globes such as these, classic and lovely examples from the collection of Rachel Bell.

But the art created by Walter Martin and Paloma Munoz (pictured below) takes globe gazers into a hazy new universe that is equal parts beauty and calamity.

Instead of fumbling around with the English Language in an attempt to describe these macabre yet serene delicacies of the eye, I will encourage you to go here and see some exquisite photosof their work, and then go here to see some more.

Has all this talk about Snow Globes and Language got you wishing that you could write a story and see it come to life inside of a Snow Globe? Well, thanks to performance artist Jillian Mcdonald you can. Her brilliant website Snow Stories allows you to view your words (or a randomly generated story) on a wintry backdrop while wondrous scenes play in (you guessed it) a Snow Globe. Give yourselves a treat boys and girls, you deserve it, YOUR VERY OWN SNOW STORY is only a click away!!!!

Famous Water Bearers

2007-01-21T18:32:00.000-08:00
This is not a comprehensive list by any means, but here's a post card from me to these Aquarian Brothers and Sisters!!!

Postcard images from Topicalpostcards.com

CLICK HERE TO FIND OUT HOW YOUR ASTROLOGICAL SIGN CAN DETERMINE YOUR ABILITY TO OPERATE A MOTOR VEHICHLE

The Great Fruitcake Toss of Manitou Springs, CO.

2007-01-19T18:11:00.000-08:00

In my youth, I sold fruitcakes in order to earn money for a starving marching band in rural Kentucky. If I had known about The Great Fruitcake Toss of Manitou Springs, Colorado, perhaps I could have provided them with some Giant Sling Shot Fodder and won the prize for selling the most, which was a hand held Pac Man Game.

Oh well, I didn't win the prize, and I won't be there on January 20th when the fruit starts to fly, so let's enjoy these pics from a past tossing from ColoradoGuy.com (who graciously provided us with our posted pic today).

Click here to hear a song about Fruitcake (WARNING: SONG STARTS PLAYING SOON AFTER CLICK SO YOU MIGHT WANT TO TURN YO VOLUME DOWN)

Alsvid That Ends Vid

2007-01-17T21:40:00.000-08:00
CLICK HERE FOR AN AUDIO PRESENTATION OF THIS POST

Alsvid, one of the fine horses who pulls the sun across the sky each day, took a break and came for a visit this afternoon, and I dare say that I am glad that I was standing just to the left of due North when this crazed winged equis crashed down on the very longitude and latitude of said direction.

"Honorable Alsvid!" said I, "To what do we owe this unexpected visit, is the company of Sol and Arvak wearing thin?"

"Yes, there is that. Plus the lure of a nice stiff mojito!" said the mythical demi-god through its air-weary mane.

Luckily I knew (and still know) of a distillery next to a large field of mint, so off we went. We had a lovely afternoon. We talked a bit about Mexican Goth Metal, and then played twenty rounds of twenty questions.

Naturally, it was a very long day, because Alsvid left the sun in the middle of the sky when he came to visit. I took advantage of the extra daylight to practice elevated lunges and to pick pears.

Puerile Melodies

2007-01-16T10:34:00.000-08:00
Hey Hey Hey, it's time for Surreal O Rama Radio! Click on the link to hear the songs (they'll open up in a new window), more information about the artists etc. can be found on the links at the end of the post! Please accept my apologies for the slow loading nature of these songs. Tsk tsk.

So, goooooood moring ! Yowsa Yowsa Yowsa, my name's Billy, I'm your mp3J and we're gonna kick things off today with a tune that features what might be the world's youngest singer/songwriter, here's Meelay 'Lil Dutch

Here, we have more musical youth hijynx with Only Wierd Kids Like Disco. And, yes, I do like disco. I am wierd. I'm also a little bit hungry.

Next up is a shout out to all the Big Eyed Grays of the Zeta Reticuli. From those funloving, marching Pink Aliens.

And our final number today is a little ditty that I think you kids'll really flip over. So, here for your listening pleasure is Genetically Modified Gingerbread Man

I hope that all of the artists included here will read this comprehensive guide to acquiring a number one hit it just might be the match that lights the fuse which will ignite a powder keg causing an explosion that will change the world of pop music FOREVER!!!

I hope that all of the artists will read this Comprehensive Manual on acquiring a number one hit. It just might be the match that lights the fuse which will ignite a powder keg and change pop music forever!

Only weird kids like disco- by Expersona

Pink Alien Theme-by Pink Alien

MeeLay 'Lil Dutch-by Dutch Indica

Genetically Modified Gingerbread Man-by Kids Zong of the Week

The KLF

A Shrine to Shonen Knife

2007-01-15T16:24:00.000-08:00
As a youngster I wrote a letter to three lovely tunemistresses known as Shonen Knife. They wrote back and sent me a picture of themselves in front of a colorully painted school bus. The picture became the center piece of a shrine that I erected to them . At the time they only had two albums out, this was on one of them.

Shonen Knife-Riding on the Rocket

I had never heard of Shonen Knife until a tribute album called Every Band Has A Shonen Knife Who Loves Them came out which consisted of American bands covering their songs. Here we observe Red Kross paying homage to these Japanese Pop Princesses.

Red Kross-Kappa Ex

Some glowing, wonderous, being had the good sense to tape a british TV show in which the ladies perform "Flying Jelly Attack", "Bear Up Bison", "Pretty Little Baka Guy" and more.

Shonen Knife-Live On TV

Unfortunately due to multiple movings I misplaced the picture, the letter, and all other components of my shrine. Recently, however, Catlin from Moshi Moshi and her boyfriend Sam saw Shonen Knife play. They got me a pick with Naoko's name on it. If you were here I'd let you touch it. If you had a time machine we could go back to '90 and see the shrine. Since neither of those things seem possible at the moment, please relax and enjoy the video shrine that I've compiled here for your viewing pleasure.

All Aboard, the Surreal O'Rama Cyberspaceship Pleasure Cruise!

2007-01-14T18:27:00.000-08:00
That all virtual tours are created equal is not a self-evident truth. But, if you will follow me, we will now board the Surreal O'Rama Cyberspaceship, where yours truly will be your guide to an assortment of tours that get the Billy Sugarfix seal of approval. Right this way, folks, watch your step, and all aboard!

Our first stop is here at the fantastic Ringling Circus Museum in Sarasota Springs, Florida. Where you can explore wardrobes, wagons, posters, and other trinkets from the Greatest Show on Earth. Once inside, be sure to visit all four rooms!

Next, let's zip on over to this lovely cemetary in Midway, Georgia. Choose your targets carefully!

And finally, since we've been on Earth for a while, let's check out this Rad Planetarium created by Mr. Paul Neave.

If you know of any virtual tours that strike your fancy as fun, unusal, incredibly colorful or just plain weird, please
Send me an email or leave a comment on the blog. I'd loooooooooove to know about them!

I hope you've enjoyed this Surreal O' Rama Cyberspace Ship Pleasure Cruise. Thank you for flying the random skies!

Billy

Horse Cave, Big Horn

2007-01-11T09:11:00.000-08:00
On days when it is too sunny outside, I like to curl down above a well intentioned glass of tang and read the news of the world. Here are some highlights;

Goings on in Big Horn, Wyomining

Happenings from Horse Cave, KY

Foliole

2007-01-10T19:49:00.000-08:00
I found my pinkys. They were lying on the floor next to a leaf that was full of identical holes. It was the picture of symmetry. The holes were punched perfectly parallel to eachother. Sooo, if you're missing a leaf with beautifully crafted symmetrical perforations, shoot me a line. I'll keep it safe until I hear from you.

Meanwhile In France...

2007-01-09T19:28:00.000-08:00
I awoke this morning only to find my pinkys missing again ( new readers see Tangled Up In Pink ). Soooo, in the absence of my digits forgive me if I forgo typing, and present you with this lovely show.

Slippery Egress is not the name of a band.

2006-11-25T21:13:00.000-08:00
A column blocked the doorway from which I wished to exit this morning. It was only two inches thick, but was comprised of some sort of petroleum jelly and had the look of a never ending stalactite,(or stalagmite, depending on which end you looked at first). It would have been easy to walk around, except that to the right of the column was a Banana Republic with Nuclear capabilities. To the left of the column sat Morrissey, eating a steak.

The only logical thing to do was to step right through the middle of the column and hope for the best, which I did. I had to wipe away some of the vaselinesque substance from the column and then had to shake off, rather like an old hound dog, equal parts danger and despair.

And so shake and wipe I did. All due to the inspiration that I would soon be posting to you.

This Indian Summer Evening

2006-11-14T20:00:00.000-08:00
Click Here For An Audio Presentation of this Post

Dear Friends and Neighbors,

I hope that this Indian Summer evening finds you all well, and that you will thoroughly enjoy this post because I had to check, clog, and crimp to get here. Yes, the obstacles were many between where I was this morning and where I am now, which is here, at the abode of my computer.

First, I encountered a maze comprised mainly of grape vines that would have been extremely difficult to navigate had I not skipped breakfast, and if I didn't have the fever for the flavor of a scuppernong . For, you see, after I ate my fill of grapes, the vines were quite empty and thin and incredibly easy to see through. Nonetheless, when I came to the end of the maze I was asked (by a gant muskadine ) for a password.

This was the first of four times today that I was asked for a password, and it was the first of four times in which I immediately yielded the correct response .

I crossed a moat full of peanut oil so that Soleil Moon Frye could solicit the second password. The third, I gave to a guinea pig on a distant planet, and the fourth I recited not ten minutes ago to this very computer, who listened intently, and hastily lead me down a trail of juji fruits to its home .

So, following the posting of this little snippet, the computer is going down town to get a haircut. He says that if I go with him he can show me how to get home without having to give a password every five minutes, which is an offer too good to pass up if you consider the moats and mazes to boot.

Well, the computer is making noises which indicate a desire to hit the road soon, so I guess this is where I will issue my valediction and bid you farewell.

I hope to soon encrypt cyber-space with another esoteric etching. But, until then, I wish you all luck in your varied endeavors.

Yours Truly,

Billy Sugarfix

A Cheer from the Cutlery

2006-10-30T16:15:00.000-08:00
The knife and the spoon showed up today. They were famished, dirty, out of money, and as ever on the run. I've never been able to get them to explain things to me in any clear manner with regards to whether they are actually running from the Cat with the Fiddle, or if there is any real connection between them and the cow that jumped over the moon. Regardless, I'm out of patience with them. They show up looking for a quick polishing and spew all their negative crap about forks. I personally find forks much more useful than either knives or spoons and I told them so. You can bet your pineapple flavored frozen yogurt that they weren't happy aobut that. I showed them the door and told them not to return unless they were willing to be more open minded and acctepting of forks. I watched them slink away, and then turned around to a standing ovation from every fork I own. I cried (but just a little).

Optic Hygiene

2006-09-05T19:06:00.000-07:00
Through telepathic communications with a Cambodian forest ox named Amirault Beasly, I found out the secret to healthy eye lids. Unfortunately, it is quite an intense multi-stepped routine which begins in the morning with the ingesting of several ropes of licorice, which must have been cured for three weeks in an air-tight box full of natural toothpaste. Various exercises must be performed at intervals based on the orbital cycle of Jupiter, and one must acquire some rare leaves that only grow on trees in Round Top Texas and apply them for seven and a half minutes at the top of every hour.

Other rituals are involved, but ladies and gentlemen, I can tell you a secret that not even Amirault the Forest Ox knows. You can bypass this rigorous group of tasks and have perfect eye-lids by leaving a comment on this blog.

Yours Truly,

Billy

This is Me

2006-07-12T11:03:00.000-07:00

Tart Rosy Hope

2006-07-11T19:35:00.000-07:00
To make truly wonderful pink lemonade, one must collect a portion of the white plains and mix it with a splash of the Red Sea. That is what I did today and it was DEELISH!!

I shared it with my friend, The Internet. He looked a bit sad and said to me;

"I, who am father to all of the blogs, have no blog of my own. I, who allows my space for myspace have no mp3s up. Your tube is really my tube but where are MY videos in which I lip sync a forgotten classic from the 80's?

I had no answer for him, but I did have some extraordinary Pink Lemonade. He took one sip and laughed.

"Don't worry" I said, feeling relieved that the mood had lightened. "I'll write about you in MY blog."

And, my elegant deemers of lexeme, although this story has no blockbuster ending in which the Geese are all freed by the enchanted hair brush, you will all sleep soundly knowing that I- Billy Sugarfix, have kept my word.

Les Aramaics Du Gevaudan

2006-06-14T20:30:00.000-07:00
An undisclosed friend and I went to a "restaurant" this evening. The waitress told us that she was the first person in Rhode Island to ever have a cell phone.

"You'd have thought I'd be on TV or something. At least once." She said.

She then proceeded to point out that every item on the menu had an assigned number, and instructed us that we were to say "honk" as many times as that number indicated to order it.

I honked 4 times for Lime Aid, 7 times for a bowl of corriander, and 16 times for Farfalle with Spinach Pesto Sauce & Portobello Mushrooms.

She brought out the Farfalle with Spinach Pesto Sauce & Portobello Mushrooms, and the bowl of corriander and then she said:

"Judging by the looks of you, I'd say you didn't jump on the mobile communications bandwagon until, say ought 4 or ought 5. Me, I've been down since 88. Nobody had ever even seen a car phone where I'm from. Why, they thought I was from outter space when I would stroll through the mall chatting into my big ole Dyna Tac...

She stopped dead in the middle of the sentence and looked in horror at the table. The lime Aid was glaringly missing, and she knew it. Without so much as a twitch, she whipped out a nice little Audiovox 8910 (Camera Phone), punched one key and said;

"I've got an 804 at table 506."

And before you could have wished to brush the lint from your shoulder she was holding...not a glass...not a mug...but THE WORLD CUP! AND IT WAS FILLED TO THE BRIM WITH CITRUSY REFRESHING LIME AID!

"I got France on my voice recognition, they said it was cool if you used it until Sunday".

I nodded my approval and proceeded to enjoy my luxuriously cold beverage.

"Oui....until Sunday" I said.

In addition to an exellent wait staff, this "restaurant" boasted (and I'm sure still boasts) an extrodinary tipping policy. When finished with your meal, you are to stand up and deliver a monologue: and the height of your gratuity should match the level of commitment you have to the performance.

I recited a passage from Studies in the Aramaic Legal Papyri from Elephantine - Page 15. You can rest assured that my dear and capable waitress got MORE than her standard 20 percent.

I Palliate

2006-06-13T14:50:00.000-07:00
Writer's block is a dish best served with that crazy ice cream surrounded in tasty gel that you get at Sushi restaurants. The bitterness of the Writer's Block somehow reacts with the cool sweetness and becomes simply irresistable.

I am, of course speaking from experience. Not so recently I gorged myself on said delicasies and believe it or not my belly and brain are both still recovering.

What I've been doing between the present and my last post is a mystery to me. I have vague visions of Dutch acrobats and computer saavy reptiles, but there is no clear point of orgin for these thoughts.

So, my readers-you luminous balefires of joy- I again must form myself into a tense rondure and roll to your feet. Asking for what seems like the millionth time that you forgive my absence and loan me a couple of Disney Dollars.

Crowns all Around

2005-11-04T23:11:00.000-08:00
I failed miserably in my task to construct a statue of Thor's hat. I don't feel incredibly bad about it because prior to this attempt I had created exact replicas of cherry pie slices so realistic that Thor, who was getting tired of modeling, took a bite out of one of them. It really added character to the piece, and I hope to enter it into a competition soon. If anyone else out there is hungry, I'd suggest going to a pizza joint or something.

Ta Ta for now.

Billy

Prepatent Paradise (redluctant cocoanuts unite)

2005-10-21T23:29:00.000-07:00
If one could bottle lightning one could rule the world. At least that's what my Great Uncle Excellsior used to say. Being as ole Sel (as we called him) was never a man to be proven wrong, it would stand to reason that on one brisk October dusk, One Beatrice the Bicycle was blessed with a jolt of Vulcan's mannah.

Now, for those of you who don't know, Beatrice the Bicycle is one of planet Earth's only remaining self propelled bicycles. Manufactured officially "Back in the Day", these uberefficient machines rolled over the surface of our Wonderful World in Peace, until Man came along and tamed them. And, for those of you who still don't understand, our friend Beatrice the Bicycle was stricken by lightning on a chilly day in the tenth month of the year 2005.

I'd never seen her so happy. Always bursting to take you anywhere! One afternoon we whirled off to Kingdom Come and marveled at the wonders of the lost city Hiroshima. There it stood as though no one or nothing had ever touched it.

Charged by Mother Nature, Beatrice the Bicycle blazed through her streets and gave life to her ghosts. The world over, crops grew and babies laughed.

I love you.

Billy

His Terpsichorean Activities

2005-10-20T05:31:00.000-07:00
I know you've all heard the rumor that I was attacked by one of those big trucks that picks up dumpsters and empties them into its retrograde belly. There is some truth to that, but the real scoop is that I caught a bad case of the boogie fever. Ladies and Gentlemen, since my last post I have clogged, tapped, broke, shook, waltzed, swung and contrad my way through every single piece of music ever recorded. That's right, it was a 24/7 daaaaance party, I wish you could have come.

At any rate, once I'd rocked my way through history's entire catalog, my feet still longed to move, sooooooooooooo I decided to create a new dance number every day. My goal is to do this for 100 days, and I'm somewhere around day 80. If you would like to peruse these songs please go to:

Song-A-Day Podcast

That address once again is:

Song-A-Day Podcast

See ya there!

Earth Tones

2005-07-10T14:20:00.000-07:00
Mother Earth is in a very bad mood these days. I just can't talk to her. She doesn't respond to any questions that I ask. She just shrugs her shoulders and shakes off alternating waves of blistering heat and rain storms. The only thing she'll say is
that she's hungry, when I ask her what she would like she looks at me as though I should know.

I understand that this is a heck of a way to come back after not posting for over a month, but when an entire planet has the blues it just doens't seem like a good time to write. Know what I mean?

Stogpap

2005-05-27T19:56:00.000-07:00
I have just spent what for all intents and purposes is a full month in the belly of a giant hummingbird. I am not capitalizing the words giant or hummingbird because I did not happen to catch the beasts name as it swallowed me whole. It' sort of my fault though. I should have listened to my Mother and never played on extrememly large red flowers in May.

But at any rate, my friends, my camrades, my beautiful beautiful Readers, I just want to let you know that I have been thinking about you, and hopefully we shall meet again very very soon.

Mod Sequence

2005-04-30T16:31:00.000-07:00
The Singing Toothpick™ showed up on Monday and surprised me while I was out picking apples. He sang an aria that he himself had composed. The lyrics told me that over on the coast a nest of baby birds had been abandoned when their mother was tragically killed in a storm. Everyone had just about given up on the baby birds when all of a sudden every single cloud in the sky burst into tears of joy and the Sun also weeped and said: "Today we in the sky are being joined by a very special guest. Ladies and Gentlemen, let me introduce you to the Funnel Cake."

According to the Aria, Funnel Cake then drifted to the ground in a parchute made from royal gowns. She then proceeded to feed the baby birds.

This news certainly aroused numerous curiositys in me, but before I could voice a single one, an Apple up in the tree above me looked at the Singing Toothpick™ and said:

"Why...it can sing any song I name"

"And oooooh that voice" said another Apple.

"Yes" said an older and more distinguished Apple "and it can also compose its own tunes with lyrics taken straight from today's hottest current events"

"Why....it could be....bigger than the ipod!!!" said a group of Apples in unison.

The apples then all started emitting a haunting bluish glow that pulsed, softly at first but made a steady visual crescendo until the apples became burning dayglo shpheres and jumped off the branches and out of the basket and began chasing the Singing Toothpick™.

Just then, the horrifying sound of a giant swarm of bees swept over us, we all ducked down, and the Singing Toothpick™ came up next to me, and it was actually he that was making the noise that sounded EXACTLY like hundreds of hungry and wild bees. He jumped into my pocket and kept on making the noise. I got up and ran out of the field before the Apples figured out that the swarm of bees was not real.

That Singing Toothpick™ and me, we're quite a team.

Implements Rising

2005-04-23T14:01:00.000-07:00
Greetings my fabulous readers. The past week has been very stressful for me, because all of the kitchen utencils that we have here in the cave staged a mutiny. I woke up last Monday to find myself surronded by three steak knives, a strainer and a coffee mug. Groves, Chuck and Mr. Mouse were also subdued and we were taken before the Skillet King, who talked for three days about how unappreciated he and his culinary companions felt. Groves, Chuck, Mr. Mouse, and I did everything we could to let them know that we were sorry but the Skillet King just kept on and on. Finally, I told all of the untensils that our band could provide music for a rock opera about their plight. The utensils themselves could star in the production and we could really raise awareness for the cause of unloved forks, kettles, and bottle openers. They liked the idea and decided to go with it.

The show was a smashing success. Appliances and gadgets from all over town showed up. I watched the Skillet King as he peeked through the curtains and gazed at the throngs of toasters, graters, pots and saucers. "Maybe we are loved after all" he said. He then stepped out onto the stage and delivered a rousing speech on Utensil Unity before introducing us.

Our performance that night evoked tumultuous applause and cheers the likes of which you've never heard. By the end of it every utensil there was our friend, and the revolution officially ended. The Skillet King agreed that he and his kitchen compadres would perform their usual functions as long as they could have a weekly party with all their new friends.

Things ended pretty well I'd say. But boy, what a stressful week.

Pantastic

2005-04-22T04:49:00.000-07:00
You know, skillets are special things and deserve a lot more love than they normally get. Think about it. Do YOU want to lie on a burner and melt butter on your stomach?

Tangled Up In Pink

2005-04-13T16:23:00.000-07:00
I have been unable to type over the past week because I have been without either of my pinkys. I discovered this just as Evil Wiener were gearing up for one of our mammoth rehearsals which always seem to end when the intesity gets to the point that the stars all foget their inhibitions and start darting to earth in search of twizzlers (the red kind). At any rate, when I went to strike the opening chords of our collosal rock session I was certainly unable to get anything out of my guitar, and that is pretty bad because my guitar is magic and plays by itself. You see, my pinkys and my guitar have spent a lot of time together and the guitar was so distraught over the loss of its two friends that it just couldn't ring a note.

I knew immediately that either Dylan, Naomi Judd or Pete Rose had taken my sacred digits. Being that rehearsal was impossible at this point I sent Chuck after Dylan, Groves after Pete Rose, and Mouse after Naomi Judd. I sent an identical box and the following note with each of them:

To whom it may concern. If my pinkys are placed in this box and returned to me, there will be no further examination into this matter. I have sent identical boxes to a plethora of sources in hopes of finding my small fingers and thus will not know from which source the pinkys came. If they are not returned I shall be compelled to contact The University of Vermont Equestrian team and the Royal Canadian Mounties of Yukon. Please return my pinkys if you have them, and please accept this Taco Salad in return for your precious time.

Needless to say, I sent Taco Salads along with all of them, and also needless to say is that my venture was a complete success. I just got my pinkys back, and the first thing I did was post to this blog because you, dear readers, are my people.

Things That Run

2005-03-30T23:26:00.000-08:00
Have you ever felt like people don't take you seriously because you don't have a face? If the answer to this question is no, then I would be willing to bet that you, dear reader, are NOT a meteorite with a talent for playing the drums that fell to earth in order to become the crucial last third of the mystical power pop trio known as Evil Wiener. Chuck, on the other hand, fits this description perfectly and has in fact often felt a lack of respect due to his lack of a face.

In order to remedy this situation, Chuck, ever the problem solver, installed a faucet precisely where one would expect to see a nose. It looks killer too. It has improved Chuck's outlook immensely and we here at Evil Wiener HQ are very happy about it, and we know that you at home are too.

So, in order to celebrate Chuck's fantastic triumph, we would like for you to stop what you are doing and do the running man for five seconds. Go ahead, you know you look great when you do it...so give the world what it wants. Do the running man right now.

From His Royal Head

2005-03-29T22:12:00.000-08:00
People are always talking about how the Polish Dime is the coolest section of town, so today we decided to go there. We were in luck, because the residents of the Polish Dime were celebrating the fact that their prince had just recieved his first hair cut. The first order of the party was for everyone to eat dinner four times. Following this we listened as the community elders told us the story of how the Polish Dime was originally an orphanage for squirrels, and then we ate dinner again. Once everyone was good and full, the prince himself had to free style a rap about what it was like to get his hair cut for the first time. The DJ kept the beat fresh and we spent the rest of the evening River Dancing. Man, the Polish Dime really is the coolest. Whoa.

Academy of Tears

2005-03-20T12:36:00.000-08:00
A few days ago I began to feel rather flat. Smushed. Constricted. It all came to a head when I went to a nearby pond the other night. I was staring into the water when unanticipatedly there was a plop in the water as a bobber fell from the air into the water, making it ripple in uncannily structured patterns. The line from the bobber led up to the moon, which was a sickle shape. There was a boy sitting in the crescent dangling a fishing pole. Music started playing, I felt completely two dimensional, and I realized that this was the beginning of a major motion picture. So, I played my part, and I calcitrated posterior. I was so good that I won an Oscar. I was very excited about this until I realized that Oscar was crying.

"What's wrong lil pal" I asked.

"I need some clothes. Just because I'm a statue doesn't mean that I have no dignity" was his reply.

So, I took Oscar to the Wardrobe Wagon and hooked him up. He was so enamored with the affordable fashions that Wardrobe Wagon had to offer, that he ended up getting a job there.

Even though he was technically my oscar, I knew he'd be happier in the fashion industry than sitting on my mantle, so I bid him a fond adieux.

The Great Gummy Prophet

2005-03-14T19:53:00.000-08:00
At approximately 3:17 (42 seconds) this afternoon, a prophet appeared before me and said;

"Be still my son. For by the end of this post ye shall have used the phrase "up in here" two and a half times, and say it not with any hint of an African American inflection. Speak with your own voice, my son, only with your own voice."

He then hailed a cab and headed out to Red Lobster for some fried clam strips.

Soon, Chuck came along with a shoe box full of gummy worms and asked if I could hold on to them. Now, as probably is the case with nearly anyone reading this blog, when you run into me at 3:20 (19 seconds) in the afternoon, you can bet that my arms are already full of gummy lunch packs. Being as this was the case, I balanced the shoe box on my head and headed on down the road where I ran into Groves who said;

"Hey Billy, do you have any gummy worms?"

"Yes" was my reply.

"Where are they?" asked Groves as he began eyeing the gummy treats in my hands.

"Up" I said rolling my eyes towards the shoe box on my head "Up, in here".

Groves quickly relieved me of the box and went on his merry way.

I then decided to change my name to Upin just as my cell phone rang. Naturally I answered it and said;

"Hello. Upin here."

It was my Great Uncle Reginald Sugarfix. Now, I haven't heard from him in about 5,672 years so naturally, I'm wondering what the Sam Hill is going on up in

An 8 Sided Die's Birthday Surprise

2005-03-12T21:55:00.001-08:00
I woke up this morning in complete darkness and whenever I moved I heard a crackling sound that let me know that I was surrounded and dare I say constricted by some sort of paper. No sooner had I reached this conclusion than I heard the strains of happy birthday coming from the world beyond my tree pulp prison. And no sooner had I recognized this classic anthem of annual ascent than I heard a ripping sound and was nearly blinded by the deluge of light that poured over me.

I was then scooped up by a giant 8 sided die who immediately said: "No, not this one. This isn't what I wanted for my birthday.

I was then put into a rather large grocery bag and soon found myself on a shelf in a store with a price tag on me that said $62,146.

Luckily Chuck ventured along and had the cash on him to spring me from this mess and I'm very happy to be currently nestled in the Cave and am hoping that some Organic Huoshan Yellow Sprouting Tea will magically appear before me.

The Optometrist's Belt

2005-03-08T20:01:00.000-08:00
Once a month or so, we all return to the magical rock quarry from which our band came. If you are the type of person that likes to understand anything to any degree at all, I would suggest that at this point you go back and read the first two posts to this blog, entitled "Evilution Part 1" and "Further Evilution". If, however, you are the type of person that can be content to know that Groves is a six foot plus bass playing catfish who lives in an aquarium in a cave with myself (Billy Sugarfix), a mouse, and a meteorite named Chuck who plays drums, then praytell, continue. We go to the quarry in order to collect some of its water to fill Groves' aquarium, so that he can live in as much comfort as possible.

On this particular trip Chuck, Groves, and I enlisted the help of Beatrice, a self propelled bicycle, who pulled a cart which housed a number of big glass jugs that we planned to put the water in. Groves also carried two of the glass jugs on his back as we trudged past the black ruins of Thrumcap and Coil's.

When we were about a mile from the quarry, we experienced an odd eclipse in which the constellation Orion came to life and stood in front of the sun. The stars from his belt sent down a beam that knocked the jugs from Groves' back and melted them. After accomplishing this, Orion stepped away from the sun, closed his eyes, bit his lower lip and raised the roof for several seconds before taking back his normal place in the sky. The melted jugs had an odd violet glow to them and lay in neat globs on the ground. It was a shame to leave them, but we had to continue.

As we approached the quarry we heard loud low pitched moans. As we got closer, it became obvious that something somewhere was crying.

"Great Books Online!!!" said Groves as he approached the edge of the quarry and looked with disbelief into it.

Chuck and I looked and saw, in the middle of the lake, a large serpentlike creature with a bulbous middle and prehistoric head.

"What's wrong yo?" asked Chuck.

The beast turned its hulking head towards us and spoke;

"Aye Laddies, 'tis much that's troublin' me indeed."

"Are you Irish" I asked.

The creature responded with a slew of words that I'm not really sure of, but from them I gathered that he was not Irish, but Scottish.

"Well" said Groves "Are you crying because people think you're Irish?"

"Noooo. Indeed I'm not. I'm cryin' because nobody believes in me anymore" said the beast as it unleashed another torrent of tears.

"Well, we believe in you" said Chuck.

"Yeah" said I.

"Darn tootin'" said Groves.

The monster squinted at us and said;

"Aye, and a fine day 'tis when the famed Loch Ness Monster must rise blubberin' to the surface of a rock quarry half way 'round the world from his home so that someone will believe in him. But I thank ye none the less laddies. Ye've made me feel a whole heap better. Now, if only me poor old eyes could see like they used to"

"You have problems seeing?" asked Groves.

"Aye" was the reply.

"I think I have an idea, said Groves, who hopped on Beatrice the Bicycle and sped off in the direction that we'd come from. In just under a minute, he returned with the melted glass that resulted from Orion's little prank. In no time at all we had used the materials in and around the quarry to fashion Nessie a pair of glasses using the odd violet glass as the lenses.

"'Tis though me eyes had been scrubbed clean o' the years" said Nessie "All the best to ye laddies. Ye'll let me know when ye're playin' then."

The famed monster then dove beneath the surface, and with renewed vision he made his way by some secret corridor back to the legendary Scottish lake.

Farewell My Funnel Cake

2005-03-02T20:28:00.000-08:00
I was incredibly excited when I recieved an invitation to go to the birthday party of the pretty little funnel cake who I had first met at the rock quarry and who later came to see Evil Wiener play. I followed a handwritten map that led me through a forest of honeysuckle to a giant apple tree. All of the apples made a magical jingling sound when they shook, and just ten paces to the right of the tree was her house.

Oh what a party. The Funnel Cake met me at the door and introduced me to the tooth fairy , who kept threatening to tell us how all of the movies we ever wanted to see had ended. Also in attendance were at least seven smurfs, and a pig in a cheerleader's outfit along with various unidentifiable sprites and a talking kitten who was interested in performance art.

Soon, the party dwindled, but the funnel cake did not. She took me on a journey into a world of hypnotic sounds and bright colors that lasted for 605 days. We ate popsicles made of frozen orange juice and honey. We made movies. We sang songs. We read stories to eachother.

Finally the Funnel Cake said she had to go. I wanted to ask her why, but instead I just watched as she disappeared behind the swingset from my childhood home.

Tell her hello if you see her. She will smile at you and make you feel really good about yourself.

South of Lake Constance

2005-03-01T19:38:00.000-08:00
Groves finally returned from China with enough Won Ton soup to feed a small country. So, without delay, we all hopped on Chuck's stilts and headed for Liechtenstein and had a big ole soup party. In Liechtenstien the Macarena is just catching on, which is cool as Chuck never learned how to do it, but not cool because Chuck is a meteorite and thus has no arms or legs. But, Chuck never ceases to amaze anyone and came through like a champ. He did the Macarena for like three and a half days before we returned home. Chuck liked the citizens of Liechtenstein so much that he decided to let them have his stilts, which will always guide their walker to secret stashes of soup located at all points of the Universe.

In return they gave Chuck a lawn mower engine, three coaxial cables, a pair of glasses, a VW Quantum Door Handle, a fresh air intake kit, five double claw clamp ISO flanges, a bag of seawood cookies, and a clock radio.

Our Subterranean Nether World

2005-02-26T17:35:00.001-08:00
I'm sorry I have been neglecting to write in this blog. It has been raining like crazy, and there was a bit of a flood. It flowed into the cave where I live and managed to pick up my inflatable mattress and propel it deeper into the cave than I ever would have thought was even possible. The flood emptied my bed and I into an underground river and then I discovered that Nosferatu had also been swept into the flood and was hanging onto the side of the mattress. His words lit up the endless pitch dark of our subterranean nether world and said:

"Will you give me a ride to the core of the Earth?"

I did, of course, and I'd have to say he's a much better travel companion than you'd think. He talked the entire time, which was great, because otherwise I wouldn't have been able to see. Not that I really needed to. The stream, according to Nosferatu, led right to the core of the earth, and the mattress was essentially unmaneuverable.

When we reached the earth's center Nosferatu, without flashing a word, jumped off of the mattress and flung himself into the giant ball of fire. Huge flaming letters shot from the burning sphere and spelled out the word "OUCH". The letters illuminated the sunken kingdom at the Earth's Center and Nosferatu shot from the core and was bright white with blue and orange flames raging from his back. He plunged into the underground river and the water began to steam. He threw himself against the mattress and it burst open. The air from the mattress reacted with the flames on Nosferatu's back and propelled us like a rocket to the front room of the cave.

Once there, Nosferatu leaped behind the bar and into the screen of the television. It turns out, his movie was scheduled to play at 8, so he just barely made it in time.

Broth from the Heavens

2005-02-13T19:34:00.000-08:00
The UPS man showed up early this morning with a package for Chuck-who had no memory of ordering anything from anyone-but promptly opened the package anyway. Beneath the brown paper, was a colorful box displaying these words:

"Telescoping Soup Stilts. Perform death defying stunts while making sure that you never go hungry again."

It took our friend Chuck no time whatsoever to liberate the contents of the box, which were rectangular flourescent grey things made of some substance never before experienced by yours truly. They extended and collapsed as the name "telescoping" would imply.

We took these new marvels outside, and soon Chuck was far above the ground walking on the stilts. He informed us that he was going around the block, and soon returned with a piping hot bowl of Smoked Chicken with Roasted Corn Chowder.

"I looked up in a tree and there it was, resting on a limb. Steaming and delicious. There was even a spoon and a napkin with it."

Without hesitating, yours truly jumped on the stilts and before I knew it I was looking down at the street. Groves and Chuck seemed so small. I could see the tops of buildings, and on top of an especially attractive ranch house, I found a nice mug of split-pea gumbo (no onions).

Groves had the next turn. He said he was going for some genuine chinese won-ton action. He got on the stilts and took off like NASA's Mars Polar Lander spacecraft and we haven't seen him since.

Tell him I said hi if you run into him.

Kudos from the Sea

2005-02-01T20:56:00.000-08:00
Beatrice, a self propelled bicycle (manufactured back in the day-literally) came rolling up to the street this afternoon after having watched Facts of Life reruns with a dugong (yes, we thought they were extinct too) at the bottom of the ocean. She could tell I was impressed.

"Oh, but that's nothing" She said.

"Really" I replied.

"I mean, yeah, it's cool and all, but get this: I met this pirate and he told me about a toothpick that could sing any song he could name."

A part of me was sad to be reminded of the Singing Toothpick™-which of course is/was my invention. The problem with creating things like Singing Toothpicks™ is that once they start doin their thang they develop such a taste for it that they run away to seek their own fortunes, which is what happened in this case. The other part of me, however, was happy that my creation was making such a name for itself.

I really wish I could remember how I made that thing.

(¡!)(¡!)(¡!)(¡!)(¡!)(¡!)(¡!)(¡!)(¡!)(¡!)(¡!)(¡!)

2005-01-31T20:45:00.000-08:00
After a hearty breakfast of roquefort and cashew butter tartare- Groves, Chuck and I decided to take our music in another direction. Instead of "rocking' we decided to "doilie". And we would have done it too, but then we discovered that during the night, someone had put the entire cave in parenthesis.

"I smell Thrumcap and Coil" said Groves.

Now, for those of you who are new to the surreal o rama, you may want to know that Thrumcap and Coil are dastardly spumekits who owned rock clubs that refused the gracious offer to be the first venues to house Evil Wiener and paid dearly for it-only to try and foil us by tying our pictures to the railroad tracks.

Needless to say, they failed, and what they were trying to accomplish by putting the cave in parenthesis one can only guess. Chuck, whose expansive knowledge of grammer rivals that of any queen or duchess used his Strunk and Whiteout™ to remove said punctuation marks and replaced them with exclamation points-the first of which was upside down and in front of the cave, the second being right side up behind the cave. This, of course derived from the language known chiefly as "Spanish".

Wouldn't you know that the San Luis Obispo Vocal Arts Ensemble all showed up for dinner. They were all the way cool! We've got some leftovers too. Hungry?

The Microscopic Messengers' Request

2005-01-30T00:46:00.000-08:00
I've been trying for a while now to figure out how to make avocados more attractive. This seems like it would be a relatively simple task, but every time I start to do it something major happens. Today, for instance, I had just gotten started when these tiny airplanes that appeared to be made of tin foil came buzzing into the cave. They flew in some pretty rad formations for a while and then began circling above Groves' aquarium, where he was trying to nap. One of the planes sprouted a loud speaker and asked Groves if he'd like to come and be the king of a very prominent planet in an uncharted galaxy. Groves considered it, bu† bailed on the idea because we had band rehearsal that afternoon. That Groves, he is one dedicated catfish.

Add infinitum to a gumball and you've got trouble

2005-01-27T20:45:00.001-08:00
Did you know that you can grow saltines in caves? Mr. Mouse has a whole garden full of them, which is great because saltines are all that Nosferatu eats now that he's given up blood. I like Nosferatu just fine despite his drinking problem-hey, we all have our weaknesses. Take Chuck, our drummer for instance-he's a great guy but he cannot resist those little machines that have stickers and toys and candy in them. You know, the ones that sit in the entrances to grocery stores. The wierd part of it is, that he doesn't actually stick the stickers on anything, nor does he bounce the superballs or display the glow in the dark aliens. Chuck has discovered a way to use these machines to travel back in time precisely one hour. He manages to get away with it because when the hour is up he simply opts not to use the machines as time travel devices again and thus the owner/manager of the grocery/drug/convenience store is never any the wiser. Chuck wastes a lot of time this way. I wonder if we should have an intervention?

Failed Flight Tastes Right

2005-01-26T06:27:00.000-08:00
Today, I gave my mini-disc player to a little bird named Delila that couldn't fly south for the winter because of an orthodontist appointment. She was very grateful and told me that I could have her retainer in return for the MDP. The retainer melted in my front pocket and spelled the word "grapefruit" on my undershirt, so I guess I know what I'm having for breakfast tomorrow. Would you like some?

Bargains from the World Beyond

2005-01-08T23:17:00.000-08:00
After waving goodbye to Jackfruit and Santa, Groves found some rubber bands on the sidewalk and decided to start making a ball out of them. Chuck was into the idea and began canvasing door to door asking for donations. He collected roughly 2,536,498,632,154,783 of them. The three of us then fashioned the ball and Yours Truly was the first to bounce it. Up, up, and up it went. When it came back, it had a note from a guy named Incongruous Johnathan who lives on Pluto and owns a shop that sells mini-disc players. He wanted to know if one of us wanted to buy one.

Well, I'd been wanting a mini-disc player, so I hopped on the rubber band ball and bounced up to Pluto. Boy, was it cold. Incongruous Johnathan gave me a whale of a deal on the player.

Dilatory Icons of Winter

2005-01-01T22:32:00.000-08:00
Our eyes quickly adjusted to this spectacle, and it was plain to see that these were not just your average flying animals, but were indeed the famed flying reindeer of the North Pole-and that they were pulling a sleigh which was inhabited by the Big Man in Red.

Before I personally even had a chance to really fathom what was happening, Jackfruit and all of his comrades began to fly towards the sleigh, as though some kind of vacuum were sucking them up. They landed neatly in Santa’s bag.

Mr. Claus bellowed out his signature Ho Ho Ho and sped away with his new load of green oblong African fruit.

Hooves Above

2004-12-31T23:24:00.000-08:00
There was an awkard moment of silence following this proclomation by Jackfruit. During the quiet time-either Chuck, Groves, or Jackfruit cut the cheese. I couldn’t tell who did it, but I know that it sure as turtle shells wasn’t me. Once the smell had wafted onward-the odd, oblong fruit known as Jack, spoke again.

“My fallen brothers and I are what people here call “Hedge Apples”. In some parts of the world we are even called “Zombie Eggs”. Although these titles are common, they are incorrect. I can assure you that we are neither reddish fruits that grow on trees, nor are we the unfertilized shelled yolks of the undead. In actuality, we are from Africa...

Just then, a sound like that of a retired jewelry salesman imitating a rustly fog horn by way of a jack hammer came from above us. We looked up and saw a sky filled with flying animals.

YOURS TRULY WOULD LIKE TO APOLOGIZE TO JACKFRUIT AND ALL OF HIS FRIENDS FOR MAKING THE COMMON MISTAKE OF REFERRING TO THEM AS HEDGE APPLES. I DIDN'T KNOW ANY BETTER. HONEST.

Jackfruit's Journey

2004-12-23T21:39:00.000-08:00
We went outside to look for the Singing Toothpick™ and found that Hedge Apples were falling out of the sky like some mutant green hale. Their corpses looked like those giant green things you put on your hands to make it look as though you have the fists of the incredible hulk, and were much the same color too.

“Oh what shall become of the mulberry family” they all said with their last breaths as they lie dying on the sidewalk and street outside of Mouse’s Cave.

“Jeeepers” said Chuck.

“Whoa” said Groves.

“Crazy” said yours truly.

“The Mulberries will live forever” said a voice that belonged to none of us three and had henceforth never been heard by the Catfish, the Meteor or myself.

We all looked over to see that one among these three foot long, 100 pound pieces of green fruit that looked like an egg with its shell gone soft, was still moving.

“Are you ok” said Groves.

“No, I’m not ok, I’ve just mysteriously fallen from the sky. I am, however, known as Jackfruit and am considerably glad to make your acquaintance” was the Jackfruit’s reply.

“I can relate. Believe me, I can relate.” Said Chuck with a knowing look on his face.

“Yup, I hit pretty hard, and I thought I was a goner until I heard that little toothpick sing. Man, that was the best rendition of “Sister Christian” I’ve ever heard. Why, I think that little Singing Toothpick™ saved my life. “ said the strange fruit known as Jack.

Sonic Tooth

2004-12-14T16:57:00.000-08:00
Chuck, looking quite satisfied with his dental hygiene, placed the Singing Toothpick™ on the bar.

“So, you think you can sing any song I can name?” Asked Groves.

“Indeed” said the Toothpick.

“How about ‘Sonic Reducer’” said Groves.

The toothpick reared back and belted out such a great version of this punk classic that my hair spiked itself. Groves leapt from his aquarium, and then he,Chuck and yours truly began slam dancing.

After this, and at Chuck’s request, the Toothpick brought it down a notch with a right on version of “Tiny Bubbles”.

Although we’d just awakened, all three of us were lulled back to sleep. 256 days later, we woke up again to find the singing toothpick gone.

This Most Gifted Splinter

2004-12-13T20:28:00.000-08:00
I awoke the next morning a bit later than usual, and simultaneously saw/heard that Chuck had discovered the Singing Toothpick™ I’d invented (see Flutter and Squeak) .

“So, what do you think of my latest invention?” I asked.

“It’s more killer than a Rhino on an anthill” responded Chuck. He then raised this most gifted splinter to his mouth and the sounds of Flashdance (What a Feeling) echoed inside his mouth as the remains of his last meal were scraped away from his rocky enamel.

“What’s all the racket?” Said Groves as he peered above the meniscus of the giant aquarium that housed him.

Chuck began to reply, but before the words could leave his mouth, the toothpick ceased its singing and said:

“I, sir, am a singing toothpick. I can sing any tune that you can name, and I can also free the most stubborn of food particles from your teeth.”

A wave of pride that could destroy all of Hawaii were it an actual wave in the ocean swept over me.

“That’s muh boy” I said.

A Silent Star's Sing-A-Long

2004-12-12T23:50:00.000-08:00
“It’s good to see you smiling” said Groves.

The world went black, words appeared, you know the routine;

“I always smile when I think about the kooky hyjinx of Tootie, Blair, Joe, and Natalie”.

“And don’t forget Ms. Garrett” chimed in Mr. Mouse.

Nosferatu’s words again dominated the room and said;

“You take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there you have the facts of life....the facts of life...

Right on cue, Mr. Mouse chirped;

“When the boys you used to hate, you date, it’s time that you investigate
the facts of life, the facts of life...

Something stirred inside, and before I knew it, all of us were singing as though angels had prompted us;

“When the world never seems, to be living up to your dreams. Suddenly you’re finding out the facts of life are all about you......

I broke down in tears under the weight of the moment-and these sobs of joy, like sirens, lured me to sleep.

The Americanization Of Miko

2004-12-11T21:43:00.000-08:00
Nosferatu looked at each of us, then to the floor. He took a deep breath and then began crying uncontrolably.

“Loosen up” said Chuck.

“Relax” said yours truly

“Don’t do it” said Mr. Mouse.

“Mellow out” said Groves.

The world went black again, and we read these words;

“How can I expect you to understand the pain that I feel”

“Now listen bub” said Mr. Mouse. “You think being a vampire is tough, try being a mouse. ‘Would you like some cheese? Mr. Mouse? Why are elephants scared of you Mr. Mouse?’ Sometimes just thinking about the dumb things some morons will say is enough to make my floating ribs hurt.”

Nosferatu stopped crying, looked up, the world went black, and we saw these words;

“You mean a sort of achy feeling? Right near the sternum?”

“Yeah.” said Mr. Mouse “Exactly. And the only thing that’ll relieve the pain is to watch “Facts of Life” reruns.

“You like that show?” said the white words on the black screen that appeared whenever Nosferatu opened his mouth.

“Are ceilometers self-contained, ground-based, active, remote-sensing devices designed to measure cloud-base height at up to three levels and also potential backscatter signals by aerosols?” replied Mr. Mouse.

This time, the words were larger than sousaphones and simpler than salt;

“Yes. Ceilometers ARE self-contained, ground-based, active, remote-sensing devices designed to measure cloud-base height at up to three levels and also potential backscatter signals by aerosols.”

Thunder clapped outside as Nosferatu smiled.

A Legend Befriended

2004-12-10T06:23:00.000-08:00
“You really shouldn’t mess with that stuff” said Mr. Mouse to Nosferatu.

“Users are losers” said Groves.

“And at your age, your old heart just can’t take it” added Chuck.

“Let this be a lesson to you.” said yours truly.

The world went black and these words appeared;

“I know. I know it’s bad. But I used to be able to stay up all night. I would carouse, chase virgins, and feast!!!! But now, I just can’t make it past four o’clock. I’m not as young as I used to be”

“Well then” said Groves “You need to accept where you are in life. Drugs are not the answer”.

Again, we experienced total blackness, and these words;

“But it’s not easy being a vampire. All those negative stereotypes that are so outdated. ‘Can you turn into a bat Mr. Orlok? Do you howl at the moon?’ Fools. Closed minded idiots. Sure, I did some things back in the eighteenth century that I’m not too proud of. But those were different times. I’m a completely different person now. I like playing Tetris, making Prank Phone Calls, grooving to Ambient Dance Music. But does anyone know that? No. They shy from me because they are afraid I’ll suck their blood and turn them into immortal beings sworn to all things evil. All I want are friends that will accept me for who I am, and see beyond age old prejudices such as these”

“Well, you can count on us” said Groves.

“Yeah” said I.

“Darn Tootin’ “ said Mr. Mouse.

Chuck, who was still lying on the ground next to the wall at which he had been flung only moments earlier by Count Orlock, looked hesitantly at all of us.

“Awwwww, what the heck.” He said with a rocky smile.

Chuck and Orlock's Dance of Daunt

2004-12-06T09:03:00.000-08:00
“Hey, none of that in my bar/home” said Mr. Mouse as Nosferatu sniffed away at his white powder.

Groves leapt up and out of his aquarium, landing to the right of Nosferatu. Chuck rolled over and flanked him on the left.

“I’m sorry sir, but we’ll have to ask you to leave” said Chuck.

Nosferatu hissed as he turned and lifted Chuck above his head. He growled and prepared to propel the meteor against the wall of the cave. As his arms began to move forward to make the throw- the ancient, hairless, man stopped. His eyes grew large with surprise as he dropped Chuck and clutched his chest.

Mr. Mouse lept from behind the bar and performed Reiki on the decrepit old body of Nosferatu. Soon he was better and sat in a stunned state on the floor of the cave.

The Fanged Snowman

2004-09-16T06:47:00.000-07:00
We all looked at Nosferatu, and Mr. Mouse said;

“Hey. Mr. Orlok. Good to see you again, but I’m afraid we’re closed”.

Nosferatu lifted his hand, and the whole world around all of us turned into a black screen which displayed these words;

“I realize that it's late. But surely you wouldn’t deny a new friend a drink or two.”

After a few moments the screen disappeared and Mouse said;

“I’m sorry. It’s after two. I can’t serve any more alcohol.”

Again, the world went black and we saw these words;

“Laws. Rules. What are they good for? If you will not permit me but one of your Monty Python Holy Ails, I shall have to take matters into my own accord.”

When the black screen disappeared, we saw that Nosferatu was bent over the bar, inhaling white powder.

Flutter and Squeak

2004-09-06T09:54:00.000-07:00
We didn’t get much sleep last night , but still, yours truly got up this morning as soon as the rooster rang the doorbell to the cave. I spent most of the morning working out a patent for my Singing Toothpick™. I spent the afternoon trying to sell a few big corporations on the idea, (and I will say that I got a few nibbles! Yes indeed I did! You’ll probably personally OWN your very own Singing Toothpick™ by the end of the week.) I spent the evening mastering the art of Tunisian Plastic Sphere Printing.

When I got back to the Cave-Groves and Chuck were doing magic tricks. They made an elevator appear that would take people to Fergus Falls, Minnesota. They turned a 16-pc. Garden Tool Set (with Case) into a DeLonghi Digital Convection Toaster Oven.

Later, a group of sabrewing hummingbirds came in and hosted a tongue twister contest, which Chuck won!!!! They gave him an all expense paid ten second vacation to the United States Library of Congress in Washington D.C. When he got back, things were winding down. The hummingbirds soon bid us a fond farewell and told us to email them if and when our band played again.

When the last hummingbird had gone, Mr. Mouse said;

“Ah well, guess I’d better close up.”

But then we heard a spectral squeal projecting from the end of the bar. We all looked over and saw the black clad, skin headed figure of Nosferatu settling down onto a stool and nestling the bar as if it were a kitten.

Funny, but I don’t remember him coming in.

Interlude in Black

2004-08-17T07:57:00.000-07:00
As the last of the Mounties disappeared into the fax machine- Chuck, Groves, Mr. Mouse and yours truly all looked at each other and said goodnight.

Mr. Mouse went off to his bedroom as did Groves to his aquarium. Chuck opted to sleep outside.

I found a remote corner and performed a set of movements that a hermit crab from Jupiter once taught me. The result of this dance is that one shrinks to a very small size-which I did in order to fit into an empty raisin box-becuase there’s something about raisin boxes that makes me have really good dreams-this time out I dreamed that I was given the task of teaching Rin Tin Tin the Hustle.

Unbeknownst to all of us- there was another inhabitant in the cave.
Deep down in the darkest recess of the subterranean tunnel, Nosferatu was closing the lid to his coffin.

The Cyber Cavalry's Venture down the Islets of Langerhans

2004-08-02T22:11:00.001-07:00
The Canadian Mounties appeared to be only mildly stunned by their odd transension through space and matter. They all looked at eachother, did a little tap step with their boots, and said in perfect unison; “Lord ‘tunderin’ Jesus. What’s the problem eh?”

“We’ll explain on the way” said Burgoo King Jr.

The mounties did what they do best- mount. In slightly less than three seconds, all of the red clad do gooders had jumped on the horses and made it nearly a quarter of a mile in the direction of the railroad tressle. Mr. Mouse, Groves, Chuck, Nosferatu, and yours truly all did the robot and threw confetti made from recycled hats like the one little debbie used to wear as a send off.

For the next 56.8 minutes, I endured the aches that came to my furcula, glenoid, and islets of langerhans; while Chuck and Groves moaned; Mr. Mouse fretted; the University of Vermont Equestrian Team snored- and Nosferatu drank. At the end of the 56.8 minutes the Mounties and Horses returned.

“We’ve got some good news and some bad news eh” said the Captain of the Mounties.

“Do continue” Said Chuck.

“Well, we like, got the pictures. So ya woont be hurtin’ anymore eh. They aint much ta look at after gettin’ run over by the trains, but we got ‘em”

“So, what’s the bad news ?” asked Groves.

“Oh, well, we like, got the pictures, but we didn’t get a ‘drat’ or a ‘curses’ or a ‘foiled again’ from any of the folks that tied the pictures to the track, eh”

“So, does this mean we can expect more trouble from Thrum-Cap, Coil, and Admantine in the future?” I asked.

“’Fraid sooo” said the Mounty Captain.

“Oh well” said Groves “At least my nasal barbels and adipose fins don’t hurt anymore”

So, we gave each of the mountys a wheat penny, a North Carolina quarter, and watched as they skipped into the fax machine-then took off to the Great White North.

We then turned our attention to the University of Vermont Equestrian team and their high-tech horses. To each member of the team, we gave an electric pogo stick-and to each horse we gave a package of Passion Fruit Waffle flavored tick tacks and a Theremin. It was the least we could do for these four legged wonderbeings -who had managed to solve our latest problem through their knowledge of sophisticated communication techniques.

Caper and Careen my little Machine

2004-07-31T09:59:00.000-07:00
By the time the horses had connected their laptop to Mr. Mouse’s modem and set up their fax machine, most of the audience had left, with the exception of Nosferatu, who just couldn’t get enough of the Monty Python Holy Ail that Mr. Mouse served up ice cold. The University of Vermont Equestrian team had all fallen asleep on the floor of the cave, while Groves, Chuck and I endured the pain produced whenever our photographs were trampled by the trains, which made their way over distant tracks, completely unaware that they were being used by three dirty dogs named Thrum-Cap, Coil, and Admantine to foil what was to be the very first Evil Wiener gig.

“Eureka!!!” Said Burgoo King Jr, the thoroughbred horse who was in the midst of masterminding a plan to relieve us from the agonizing burden produced whenever a train ran over our pictures.

“Arcata!!!” said Dust Commander III, who had just I.M.ed his cousin in Whitehorse.

“Do we have contact?” Asked Burgoo King Jr.

“We have contact.” said Dust Commander III

“Commence with Operation Tele-Dudley in X minus 3,2,1.....

Just then, the fax machine leapt into the air, did a somersault, and landed on the floor. In a squeaky, robotic, voice the fax machine screamed “Cowabunga”, then proceeded to shake its lower backside-what essentially amounted to its booty. Salmon colored sparks began to fly from the top of the machine as it shook, wiggled, shuffled and spun. A brume of chartreuse smoke shot from a slot in the spinning machine. It enveloped the entire room and smelled like two mangos making love. When the fog had cleared a Canadian Mounty in full regalia stood before us. This process repeated itself 8 more times.

Horse Sense

2004-07-31T09:44:00.000-07:00
It was no use trying to continue. Every time I started to strum my guitar, my astragalocalcaneum would jolt, and I would fall down. Chuck howled as the crystal structure of his minerals constricted. Groves caterwauled as only a catfish can. We all looked bemoaningly at the balloons filled with watermelon seeds that we had prepared for our grand finale- knowing that this grand finale would never come. I cried like a ladylux ergonomically designed soft touch dual spray faucet with fingertip controls.

The audience stared at us as we contorted under the burden of the trains that were running over our photographs, which had been tied to the tracks by Adamantine, Thrum-Cap, and Coil-the three brutish rock club owners who would/will stop at nothing to undermine the career of Evil Wiener.

Mr. Mouse, the owner of the cave in which we played, turned to the Indian Flying Fox who had delivered the news of Thrum-Cap, Coil, and Adamantine’s latest dastardly deed.

“Is there nothing we can do to help bring an end to this tragedy?” asked Mr. Mouse.

“Probably not in time for them to finish their gig” said the Indian Flying Fox.

“Dogone it.” said a Peahen who was sitting at the bar, “I really wanted to get my Rock on”.

“Oh well. I guess we’d better head back to Vermont” said the captain of the University of Vermont Equestrian Team.

Just then, one of the equestrian team’s horses piped up; “Wait a second. I think I know how we can help.”

We all looked at the horse, and then to the Captain of the Equestrian team, who said; “Burgoo King Jr. here is one of our best horses, if he says he can help, then we should hear him out.”

Burgoo King Jr. didn’t wait for any response, but instead turned to another horse and said; “Dust Commander III, is your cousin still up in Whitehorse?”

“Yup” said Dust Commander III.

“And Kauai Queen, do you have your laptop on you?” said Burgoo King Jr.

“Yup” said Kauai Queen, pulling a G-4 power book out of her saddlebag.

“Mr. Mouse. What kind of internet connection do you have?” asked Burgoo King Jr.

“DSL Light” responded Mr. Mouse.

The horses all whinnied in disapproval.

“Hey, Man. I live in a cave!!! Whattaya expect?” said Mr. Mouse.

“Don’t fret lil’ pal” said Burgoo King Jr. “We’ll make due. Do you have faxing capabilities?”

Mr. Mouse shook his head from side to side in a sheepish manner.

“No worries, Lucky Dancer, are you packin’?” Another horse, whose mane had been trimmed in a manner that resembled a mohawk, winked as he whipped out a very sophisticated looking fax machine.

We all looked at each other, wondering what the horses had up their saddle bags.

Ma Po Popliteal

2004-07-30T12:26:00.000-07:00
By the time Captain Lepus had made his way to the bar- a self propelled bicycle, a generation gap, and another mouse had ambled into the Cave. By the time we were ready to play, the place was full of all kinds of folks;

Nosferatu was chatting with Maureen McCormick. The Thompson twins were playing rock, paper, scissors against the University of Vermont Equestrian Team, whose horses were drinking Blue Sky All Natural Soda and flirting with a group of peahens. Fred and George Wesley were playing pinball. Benji was making eyes at Stitch.

Even with all the commotion in the room, I noticed the funnel cake with green eyes that I’d last seen next to the mystical rock quarry from which I got my guitar. She was standing in the back making a marionette do an East Coast Swing dance.

Three of my teeth fell out, which is a sure sign that I’m nervous. But I used silly putty to stick them back in place and said;

“Hi everybody, we’re Evil Wiener”

We launched into our set, and Chuck’s drums sounded like a gigantic cotton candy machine with cool pictures of kangaroos playing soccer on it. Groves’ bass controlled the weather, and even though it was nearly eleven pm, he made the sun shine in the Cave. We were seriously skating over the frozen sea of effulgence, and everyone there knew it. Then, suddenly, the bass stopped and the sun ceased to shine.

“Ouch” Said Groves.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“It’s my trigeminal nerve foramen, it hurts like crazy, and AAAAAAAAAAGH!!! Now my Suspensorium-V. Heeeeeeeeelp!!!!!

Just as I was wondering what to do, I felt an aciculate pain in my xiphoid process, and another in my patella.

I hollered out and then realized that Chuck, too , had joined Groves and myself in this most agonizing endeavor.

Just then an Indian Flying Fox swooped into the cave, landed on the bar and said;

“Thrum-cap, Coil, and Adamantine have taken the Evil Wiener pictures and tied them to the railroad tracks. So now, whenever a train comes along, Chuck, Groves, or Billy are going to be in for some serious discomfort”

The crowd let out a mutual gasp, as my popliteal vein throbbed mercilessly under the weight of a distant train.