Chicago to Phoenix: Wookie Central

As I try and try to wash off the smell, and wait patiently for the river of mud a-la the Chocolate Thunder Review to stop flowing from my body, I keep remembering my flight away from Rusty 2006. The inflight movie was "King Kong", which I found to be not quite as bad as everyone had told me. The four-inch screen 16 feet in front of me may have buffered the experience. The perpetual shaking of alcohol withdrawal and my own smell made it difficult to sleep, so I chose to give "Kong" a try. How bad could it be?

Though you may be expecting a review of the movie, all I could think of as I watched was our own OneEar, crippled and gimpy this year, vomiting at the slightest provocation. As I watched Kong fight off three nippy T-Rexes, Rexi, Rexae?, I imagined our Wookie trying to give directions on his way to his car. When Kong was getting splashed with chloroform, I saw OneEar administering his own anesthetic and then, after only just a little bit, turning into a furry vomit fountain on a sidewalk in a bad neighborhood.

Kong's captivity on the stage on Broadway was an eerie parallel to this year's subdued Wookie, and his swatting at the planes on top of the Empire State Building really did remind me of the poor Wookie fending off continuously annoying questions from Clowns flying at him with

"How's your stomach, Wookie?"
"How's your back, Wookie?"
"Take some medicine, Wookie?"
"Why're you walking so funny, Wookie?"
"I wonder why you can't carry your own equipment this year, Wookie. UGH!! Ok, now I get it"
"Sure are barfing a lot, Wookie."

Poor Kong. Poor Wookie. Our hero is fallen; or at least temporarily damaged.

Go back to the doctor, OneEar. You're not better yet. No one will compare you to Ben Aflac running to the Emergency Room for a headache yesterday and then leaking the life-and-death drama to the media.

Happy Rustymess

The time has come. A palpable, visceral odor begins to fill the air along with the unmistakeable approaching sound of music being tortured.

It is Rusty Eve!!!!!

Merry Rustymess to all, and to all a good flight.

I'm In the Money

Drinks are on me!!!!! My royalty check has arrived from sales of the award winning career guide, "What Color is My Pair of Shoes? Vol 1"



http://oneear.blogspot.com/2004/12/what-color-is-my-pair-of-shoes-vol-i.html

Rusty Set List Changes

I'm not going to have time to prepare Poetry Deleted or Cornered in the Kitchen or UFOs and Camel Toes. We'll have to work out the tune and arrangement on Friday.

Also, there are some chord changes to http://oneear.blogspot.com/2005/04/blow-ye-know-nothing.html which I will post on Tuesday.

Also, do any of you asholes know how to water ski? My back is still misaligned due to the late-night complimentary (and unsolicited) chiropractic adjustment I received, so I won't be able to do much other than sit and drink. But please advise whether any of you is interested in skiing.

The Plan Comes Together

Clown Squad Plans a Podcast

Scene 1 - Take 4 - The Clown Squad Kills the Dead

Even hobbits can perform reconstruction

There. I hope you are all happy. Rusty did work for a while as a nude model

How to delete posts

Dear friends;

Certainly if you belong to any species of higher-order mammal, you do not need instruction on how to edit or delete posts, so I won't bother posting any.

You are welcome.

Links working. Sorry.

A Reflective Moment
As the Fervor of Rusty winds up, I think we should all take a moment to acknowlege both Chewy's AND Bigfoot's birthday today. Now, as you are all aware, the actor who played Bigfoot on the Six Million Dollar Man, later went on to become the WWF legend Andre the Giant, and even later, went on to die of heart problems most giants typically have. While it is probably, therefore, a little late to acknowlege Bigfoot's birthday, we can certainly still congratulate Peter Mayhew with a happy birthday and also acknowlege that he is a full 5 inches taller than Andre the Giant/Bigfoot is/was. Having said this, even I am now taller than Andre the Giant. I can't wait for Rusty.

Rusty Sessions 2006 Are Upon Us!

1 week until the Rusty Sessions 2006!!!!

Time is short, my friends. Let us stop dwelling on who was beaten senseless by whom and which deity was kind enough to send a gift package of smoked meat. We have final preparations to prepare.

I am posting Coco's latest checklist:

Let me know if you are unable to bring anything listed.
Dr. Bok -- Guitar; someway to plug gutar into amp (e.g. pickup); harmonica.
Alceste -- Electric guitar (if you can); microphones; any instr/mic cables you might have. Also, at the last Rusty, Fluffy pitched his Sears Amp head into your back
bushes, so if you could retrieve that, wipe off the
dog shit, and mail that back to him before next
Thursday, then that would be great.
Ono -- Pickup (the one with the on/off switch). Fluffy has a guitar for you.
Special Guest Sparky -- Egg Shaker in key of Bb; Digital Camera

Also you should all bring swimming attire as there will be a mandatory "hosing off" daily (twice on Saturday).> > Peace.>

I will bring the PA system and a couple of amps. I'll probably bring the old 600watt Peavey that The Dyspeptics used to run all of our sound through. You may recall how that amp excels at being loud. This will come in handy just in case the neighborhood association's President lives too far away. I've got several mics, two mic stands, and a roll of duct tape. Coco has the drums, the bass, and a couple of amps. On second thought, I'd better bring a couple of more amps.

Coco - I assume you'll set up the videography. My camera and I have been unable to see eye-to-eye as of late. I'd like to have one camera filming group shots and one camera on me at all times.

Ono - do you have those pantyhose?

Other than that, I think we're all set. Obviously, you should bring your binders.

Rusty Set List

I now realize that I spent more time compiling this set list than any of you Clowns spent practicing in the past year. Nonetheless, you will be expected to know:
Covers

1. Mystery Train -- my version in E
2. Folsom Prison - in E
3. Mustang Sally - in B
4. Friend of Devil - in G
5. Old Man - in G
6. Like a rolling Stone - in G
7. Hey Joe - in E (somebody has to play the lead??)
8. Dead Flowers- in D - (Coco note the change)
9. This train- in A?
10. Old Joe Clark - in E
11. Squeezebox in G
12. Angie
13. Willin
14. Sympathy -in E
15. Twist/Shout La Bamba - in C

Originals

1. Where Has He Gone?
2. Reading A Book (Please see original assignments in binder on this one).
3. Life Is Like a Sausage (Dr. Lbok)
4. Spend My $ on the Stupidest Shit I can
5. 1900 Baby
6. Brave New World
7. Penny For Your Thoughts (Alceste)
8. Blow Ye Know Nothing
9. Old Wet Wendy
10. 2 Steppin Surgeon (Coco)
11. Sex Free Sex
12. Grumpy Sarge (Alceste)
13. Rusty Song (Dr. Lbok)

I'll also work up Poetry Deleted and Cornered in the Kitchen.

OneNote, why don't you work up Her Nookie is a Leaker.

We'll also do Dog Dirt Blues.

Beast of Burden

Q: Is everything lined up for the upcoming Rusty Sessions?

A: No, this Rusty Sessions is turning into a disaster. I have turned to Ms. Pineapple for help: Let's Synchronize Cheer



Hey you Clowns, cover for me for a few days.

Rusty Sessions 2006 - The Sick Scents

ORDER your Rusty merchandise HERE

Thank Rusty

Our good and gracious Rusty has done it again! I was pining away in my cubicle this afternoon, when what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a special delivery marked "Rush."

Wonderful, I thought, I love rush. Many of my favorite objects are rush! Upon closer examination, I learned that the box also was marked "Insulated" and "Perishable." Even better. Insulated perishable rush object(s)! What else could I learn from the packaging? "Up" with an arrow pointing, of all directions, upwards. Now we were getting somewhere. My imagination raced with all of the possibilities, and I could hardly restrain myself from tearing into the present.

But wait a minute. What if those crafty batterers had sent me a package bomb or some anthrax or a Kathy Lee Gifford album? Was I willing to take the risk? After much deliberation, I elected to open the box.

What to my wondering eyes should appear but an insulated box filled with smoked bratwurst from Wisconsin!?!?! The smoked meat was accompanied by the referenced invoice. If you look carefully, you will see that the order for the smoked meat was placed by none other than Rusty himself! I am going to cherish these bratwurst forever and forever.

Thank you Rusty for this food that I have received.

Well, wishers

Rusty Never Sleeps - Official Site of the First UniChurcK

Rusty Never Sleeps - Official Site of the First UniChurcK
OneEar, I think your congregational members are with your battered Wookie head in spirit, and, unfortunately for you, in person shortly. But you have long known that we were coming. To quote a wise sausage-maker, who would attack a Wookie? Who among you, in the Blogosphere? (I am secretly hoping your attackers will inadvertently tip their hands in a response comment. That way, if the soapy-grave trick doesn't work, we can use the internet to snatch them up! Sorry for the snatch reference; I promised I wouldn't do that...)
Just so this post is not a total wash, I refer the gentle reader to my little brother's Blog, which details a major victory for bloggers everywhere. http://www.mainewebreport.com/
We are all hoping for a speedy recovery of OneEar's headache.

On Being Battered

My story proceeds thusly. After attending a local convention, I allowed myself to be convinced into participating in camaraderie with colleagues, as is my wont. Following some revelry and libation, during which stories were told and darts were shot, I elected to retire for the evening.

Whilst returning to my coach, I encountered some young dark-complexioned fellows, I believe there were two in number, who begged my assistance in giving them some direction. As I composed myself to oblige, a yet unseen gentleman elected to strike me upon my skull with some dense and apparently inflexible object. Although I would not know it until later, these gentlemen then opted to take my wallet and keys and to punch, beat and kick me at their leisure.

My next recollection is vague and dreamlike and involves a long, staggering journey toward the hospital a mere mile away. I next recall discussing with the physician the fact that I had been discovered by a motorist who found me lying in the street near the hospital. Rather than running me over and risking staining the underside of his vehicle, the motorist kindly elected to stop and to contact the hospital.

A mere few hours later, after CT Scans and who knows what else already had been performed, I became alert enough to remember who I am. We all agreed that this was a major improvement, "we" being the doctors, the nurses, the policemen who had assembled around my bed, and myself. I asked permission to call my wife, did so, and reported to her that I was in the hospital as a result of "a fracas." Knowing me as she does, my wife was very concerned. You see, I am not the type of person who typically gets involved in a fracas. I am often involved in a ruckus and occassionally a brewhaha, but I normally have enough sense to extricate myself before things escalate into a fracas. On this occasion, I don't think I was given a fighting chance.

After a few more hours of observation and treatment, I was released to my wife's care. I had a concussion, some whiplash, stitches in my lip, bruises all over my face and up and down one side of my body and severely wounded pride. Other than a non-stop headache which has lasted for a week, I have healed up for the most part.

It turns out that my attack was not unique. There have been about 20 such attacks in the last month involving groups of 5 to 15 young guys. The detective on my case believes that it is some type of initiation rite. I'm not sure what sort of fraternity these fellows are joining, but I'm happy that I was able to help them realize their dreams. Have I become jaded? No, I am too old and stubborn to be taught any lesson that I don't want to learn.

And so, my apologies for missing this week's service, and my thanks for all of the warm regards.

Muggles

Funny thing happened last night. I awoke in the hospital. Granted, its not the first time, but I really am getting too old for this kind of shit.

Here are the facts: I awoke in the hospital. I guess I already went over that. I have a splitting headache and a large, baseball bat-sized welt on the side of my head. My lip is split to the tune of three or four stitches and I have abrasions, contusions, and other sions all over my face. My wallet and keys are missing as is my memory. Those of you who know me are probably saying, "yeah, so what's the funny part." That is why I refer to you as assholes.

I have cancelled my credit cards, and I don't really need a driver's license, but I lost my 10trip to the carwash with 8 trips remaining. I am thinking that I'll hang out at the car wash waiting for my victimizer, and when he is trapped in his soapy grave, I'll detonate an atomic bomb. Some would call this overkill, but I think it is appropriate given the level of my anger.

FU Weekly (Corrected)

CORRECTION!

Very funny to whoever inserted the wrong image into the FU Weekly prior to publication, and we have a pretty good idea about who did it. Prepare yourself for the fires of Hell.

Parishioners will kindly disregard the erroneously published image and insert the following image in your minds:

--------------------------------------------

Zombie Update

Just as we predicted, the Zombie empire is expanding. The latest victim; an innocent Best Buy store. See Zombies Infiltrate Best Buy.

As one of the store security guards accurately detected:

(He) didn't know who the group was, but suspected that it was some cult, because, "They all have that zombie look in their eyes.

As goes Best Buy, so goes America. It is only a matter of time before Zombies breach Circuit City, Bed-Bath-and-Beyond, and the crown jewel of Zombie retail domination, Walmart. Soon, Americans will be the unwitting consumers of aisle after aisle of cheap, unnecessary, superfluous, disposable crap.

Our only defense at this time? Those of you who said "a musical" are way ahead of me.

Previous Zombie Update

Jose Can You See

Now they've really gotten my dandruff up! These furriners are going around singing our national anthem, and they're singing it Spanish! If that's not a good enough reason to pull our old pointy hats and robes out of their commemorative trophy cases, then I'm afraid that I just don't I don't know what is. My people have lived here for a long time, and this means that I am right.

How dare those furriners honor this country! If they can't sing my praises in English, then they shouldn't praise me at all. Our national anthem is a remarkable tribute to the moon landing, and the rockets red glare wasn't accomplished by a bunch of furriners (other than a few Germans, but they don't count). The last thing we need is a bunch of non-englishers mucking up our educational system.

When Columbus discovered America, he planted the stars and stripes and declared English our official language. It has been that way ever since, so get over it. Nobody wants to hear you mariaching all over the place in your gobblety gook about this great land. "Jose can you see?" Stop singing about the Estar Espangled Bannero! Why don't you just swim back to Spain and make some tacos.