OneEar Is Re-Arisen!

OneEar has re-seized the throne!

Enough Korean cuisine news!
Enough images of California service stations!
In short, enough of DokBok and his puppet regime!

Let's get back to the core beliefs that hold us FU-ing together.
Where is the rhino news?
Where is the Abu Gogo news?
Where is Coco's camera?

And, in the end, where is the music?

Broke Down Doctor

DBok's reminiscences about Rusty Sessions of yore caused me to recall the time when the sessions were last held at my house. It was the winter, probably about 10 years ago, and I had recently moved into a 100 year old house in a small village in Wisconsin. Friday involved heavy drinking and frequent trips to/from the airport to pick up the Clowns as they arrived. “Music” probably was played as well.

Saturday consisted of more drinking, more “music,” and frequent trips between the two bars located in this particular village. On Saturday night, we were at the yellow-house bar and were engaged in some dialogue with the local clientele. DBok was impressing nobody in particular with his unique grasp of arcane, trivial factoids, and, as usual, he was utilizing his most know-it-all-ish tone and demeanor. Eg. “I live in Norfolk, Virginia, the world’s largest natural seaport!” or some such nonsense.

Just about this time, one of the patrons, apparently tired of DBok’s relentless condescension, addressed another fellow very loudly across the bar. “Hey, Randy, this guy (DBok) wants to suck your dick!” “Did you hear me Randy, this guy here really wants to suck your dick!” “This guy, right here, (again pointing to DBok), wants to suck your dick!” This went on for several minutes with the reiterated inference being created that DBok wanted to suck Randy’s dick.

DBok first tried to reassure Randy that he did not, in fact, want to suck Randy’s dick. However, the other patron was unconvinced. “Randy, I’m telling you this guy wants to suck your dick!” Soon DBok and the man who was convinced that DBok wanted to suck Randy’s dick were entangled in a robust embrace, and it became clear that a Clown retreat was necessary.

The Squad extricated ourselves from the establishment and escorted DBok back toward my house. DBok insisted on standing in the street yelling taunts at his newly-made friend, but after numerous tries, we eventually shepherded him back to my house. We reconvened in my living room, but, when we took a roll-call, DBok was absent. He had snuck out the back door and was headed back to the bar to further debate with the other gentlemen his desire to suck Randy’s dick, or lack thereof.

It became clear to the rest of us that DBok was intent upon having his ass kicked that particular evening. So, on motion made and duly seconded, and with a quorum being present, we resolved to go kick his ass ourselves. Our thinking was that, since he had just become a surgeon, his hands needed protection from the damage which might occur during a fist-fight. We figured it unlikely that his new acquaintance would extend the same courtesy. Further, we saw no reason why a surgeon needs his face, neck, ribs, back or legs to be uninjured. So, we caught him out in the street, dragged him back to a snowbank, and dog-piled him. Coco was particularly zealous in this effort to protect DBok, and, while the rest of us were pummeling him, Coco shoved some ice shards up DBok’s nose. This, while probably unnecessary, was very funny.
Eventually, we had literally beaten some sense into DBok, and we went back home to resume the normal Rusty Session activities.

The following morning, I had to lend DBok a walking cane to limp his way through airport security toward home. Something about a broken something. But his hands were fine.

You know, come to think of it, I don’t think I ever heard him say “Thank you.”

Hold em, Texans

Somehow I got roped into playing poker tonight. I feel as though I'm somewhat at a disadvantage. The problem is that I haven't played poker with any regularity in 10 years and haven't played period (that I can recall) within the last several years. I can't remember when to hold em, when to fold em, when to walk away and when to run.

In the meanwhile, it seems that everyone else in the world has become an expert at Texas Hold'em. I've even seen a TV show with Danny from the Partridge Family playing against Everybody Loves Raymond's brother and some other celebrities. These people are not all that entertaining when teams of professional writers tell them what to say, so why are they on my TV playing cards?

My lack of recent experience is compounded by the fact that I tend to forget how to play games fairly quickly. For the past 16 years or so, the Clowns and I have gotten together once or twice a year, and we always play spades. Each and every year, they have to re-teach me the rules. Fortunately, I am a fast learner and my team usually takes the upper "hand" by day 2. Unfortunately, my team usually loses the upper "hand" by day 3 because I am unable to concentrate on anything but the waves of nausea and occassional spasms of vomiting.

Anyway, can someone remind me about the guidelines for Texas Hold'em. When should I go "all in?" When should I go "all home?"

Top 10 Most Annoying Clown Squad Songs

Everybody seems to be publishing lists of the most annoying songs.

So, without further adieu, here are the top 10 most annoying Clown Squad songs.

10. Where has he gone? This is the Clown Squad's Macarena.
9. Happy Bigamy Where is Hanson when you need her?
8. Funky Monkey Crap Rap Please let the dogs out - poo - poo poo.
7. Penny For Your Thoughts Some people want to fill the world with silly love songs.
6. 1-900 Baby My Hump, but long-distance.
5. Whiskey Infused Train Wreck This should have been the theme for the Titanic.
4. Two Steppin Surgin It's funny because it's true.
3. Life is Like a Sausage Ricky Martin couldn't have done it any worse.
2. Her Nookie's a Leaker Snoop there it is.


And the number one most annoying Clown Squad song - eggroll please.............
1. The Grumpy Sergeant. You're Beautiful.

Velma Loses Her Glasses (Seis)

Where in the Hell were we? Oh yes, Portugal. We're en route to that infamous moment when Alceste loses his glasses on New Year's Eve 1991 in Espana, more specifically Madrid.

But why refer to Alceste as "Velma?" The Clown Squad has, at times, shown surprising similarities to Scooby-Doo and the gang. Due principally to my height but also because I do enjoy the occasional snack, I've been tagged Scooby Doo. Coco, with his gangly posture and unkempt appearance plays Shaggy, though he was not along on this adventure. LBok is obviously Scrappy-Doo. This is due not so much because he is an annoying dwarf but because most fans wish he had never been invented. Bundeskraut usually plays Fred, though I think that this was Colyp's role while in Spain.

But what of Daphne? Many, if not most, of our gang's adventures involve the search for a willing Daphne. We've had many participants over the years, most of whom have been less than satisfactory. Some, if not all, of our wives, girlfriends, girl-friends, girl-acquaintances and girl-strangers over the years have been asked, in so many words, to be Daphne. Many have declined, and the rest have failed.

Anyway, that leaves Velma. Alceste, like Velma, displays a certain "frumpiness." Though he lacks her analytical tendencies, he, like Velma, typically cuts quickly to the heart of a problem. Whereas Velma might deduce something like, "This dirt only could have come from the abandoned gypsum mine shaft where Mr. Thompson stored his armadillo-flipper," Alceste would be likely to say, "Stop tracking in dirt you fucking dickheads." Also, Alceste wears glasses and, as you will see, he has the same propensity as Velma for losing them.

-Got up early, went for breakfast beers and sandes-got tickets -checked out a Hermitage - got some groceries & a couple bottles wine to kill the time ->saw a yak - got the evil eye from the conductor - train.

-Got to Lisboa at night - met Alceste's friend at the station, had a cute Texan with her, ate with two airheads at a nice restaurant near the center -grilled swordfish - rushed to catch the train - sin alcohol - crowded car - met freak bros., banker from Brazil, other drunks in the dining car -> they gave us some rum - one pulled the emergency alarm and stopped the train - we went back to our cabin but too hot to sleep, I went back out, met Australians =two chicks and a dude, & Madrid guy ->shot shit for two hours, went back to sleep. (So, now we're on the return train from Lisbon to Madrid. We had gone out wandering in the dining car again and had encountered a new set of drinking friends. The "freak brothers" were a couple of soccer players who were far drunker than any of us. One of them stopped the train by pulling the emergency alarm, and this caused quite an ordeal. We all played "dumb" while the conductors tried to find the problem. We should have turned the idiot in because he ended up costing us about an hour sitting still in the stifling heat. He did have rum, though. I remember the Australians were very entertaining, though I don't recall why. Presumably, they laughed at my jokes.)

Madrid - beds filled with Germans - Al y yo finished and started bottle DYC, drank a bit w/ the Germans, 2 wines & chocolate. (So, now we're back in Madrid. When we got to our apartment, we discovered that our German room-mate Gunther had filled our beds with Germans. He had 3 or 4 friends visiting from Germany for the New Year's celebration, and Gunther must have figured we wouldn't mind if they made themselves at home. How presumptuous.)

Remember that our accomodations, though not properly described as "spartan," were yet quite minimal. My bedroom was a 4 foot x 9 foot former closet which was just barely big enough for a bed. Alceste had the largest bedroom, and he slept on a mattress/nest of clothing and blankets on the floor. I think Colyp was still sleeping on Alceste's floor at this time, but this was just about the time when John-the-gay-New-Yorker moved out and Colyp took over his room.

Gunther the German and we clowns maintained a certain detente through mutual respect, only without the respect. John-the-gay-New-Yorker, however, found us more difficult to stomach., and he had been fairly miserable since Alceste and I moved in. I don't recall what set him off first. Perhaps it was the bathtub full of dirty laundry soaking for days. We didn't have a washing machine and could not seem to find a laundromat, so we would just load our clothes into the tub to let them soak for awhile. We would just stand on top of the clothes to shower (kind of like making wine). Perhaps John-the-gay-New-Yorker did not enjoy wine-making. Perhaps what set him off was the fact that we seemed to always be losing and/or breaking all of the kitchen utensils and appliances. Though, to be fair, we did find a substantial amount of replacement stuff during our dumpster diving. John-the-gay-New-Yorker didn't seem to appreciate our recycling program either. Perhaps John-the-gay-New-Yorker most disliked the fact that we would stumble in at 3 or 4 or 5 am, drunk, singing, and hungry and sometimes accompanied by a group of random others. Whatever it was, John-the-gay-New-Yorker found it difficult to have us for housemates.

We knew we had a problem when, shortly after we had moved in, Alceste and I were sitting in his room drinking wine when John-the-gay-New-Yorker poked his head threw the doorway. "Uh, guys." he began cautiously, "Do you think we could set aside some time to schedule a meeting?" Gunther was standing behind John-the-gay-New-Yorker, obviously at his request. Alceste and I looked at one another with slight confusion.

"I'll have to check my appointments." I finally answered. But Alceste, as I've said, is more direct. "John, we're all right here, what the fuck do you want?" I don't remember which of John-the-gay-New-Yorker's complaints was his first, but, as you can see, in addition to his actual concern, there was also a clash of styles.

UPDATE: I have been advised that the infamous "Guys, could we set aside some time to schedule a meeting" conversation took place after not only Alceste and I but also Colyp, LBok and Coco were all more or less residing at the 3 1/2 bedroom flat with Gunther-the-German and John-the-gay-New-Yorker. The likely reason why John wanted a meeting just dawned on me.

Admittedly, we were not the best housemates. Frankly, Alceste, Colyp and I could barely stand one another either, and we had known each other for 5 years by this time. But John just couldn't take the combination of filth and gluttony, not to mention the smell. If I remember correctly, and I don't see how I could, John-the-gay-New-Yorker was also a tee-totaller. We weren't. So, John-the-gay-New-Yorker moved away and Colyp took over his room.

Gunther also disliked many of our lifestyle habits, but he was much more game about playing along. I think he found us to be something of an entertaining curiosity. For example, on one occasion, Alceste, Colyp and I were sitting in Alceste's room drinking wine when Gunther strode in. In his stern German accent he informed us "Guys, there is a chicken in the kitchen."

"Yes." I replied. One day while walking home from work, I had encountered a stuffed taxidermy rooster in a dumpster, so I brought it home and put it underneath the kitchen sink. We called him, "the Cock." We would take it out on our excursions playing guitar in the park for change, and it turned out to be quite a draw with the children. It was Gunther's preference that the bird not be stored in the kitchen. However, none of us wanted that filthy thing in his sleeping area.

The cupboard under the sink was also what we called the "dishwasher." After we had burned food to the bottom of one of the pots or pans, we would fill it with water and place it in the cupboard. Then, we would forget about it. Our assumption was that we would find a new one, and we often did.

While John found these kind of tactics intolerable, Gunther would just stare at us with a slight smile as though he were trying to solve a clever riddle. The riddle was not that clever.

Velma Loses Her Glasses (Cuatro)

Now, where was I? Oh, yes, Colyp, Alceste and I were living the life of a smelly American, getting drunk, falling down, acting stupid in Espana, more specifically Madrid. I've recently run across a small note pad from 1990 (or was it 1991?) which contains my notes from the Christmas to New Years period of travels in and around Spain. The journey begins as we prepare to load a train from Madrid to Lisbon a few days before Christmas.











\Sat-Left at 11:00

-Drinking since party at Lingua maipc(??undecipherable, and I don't recall any party).

-Drank 1L. cheap wine - packed bags - Sang Ode to Judea & Bobby McGee - Forgot food for the 1st time - 2 liters wine for train ->flask=gin/vodka (One of us usually carried the flask to tide us over on long trips. It must have been filled with gin mixed with vodka on this occasion. That means we were running low on booze and had emptied two bottles).

-Got in wrong seats drunk skunks, then found our seats. Colyp told us of his misadventures, Alceste y yo yelled at him for the next hour - we were hated (I don't remember what Colyp told us that made us yell at him for an hour. The possibilities are virtually limitless).


-sang songs w/the Brazilian Sleeper, Julia, & The Friend *Rita Moreno (I don't recall whether we brought the guitar on this journey or whether we were singing Acapulco. I don't know who or what Julia was or what Rita Moreno was doing in our train car. I had forgotten about the Brazilian Sleeper until re-reading this. She was a young Brazilian lass who was quite lively when we first met but then proceeded to sleep for the entire voyage and eventually used each of us respectively as her pillow.)


-passed out (right on schedule).

-woke up wrapped up by the B.Sleeper - went out for Big Mace - Met the French Dude again - Drank Champagne - Asked Colyp for the XMas Present (I don't know to what the Big Mace refers, and I don't recall the French Dude. I had woken and left the others in the train car while I went exploring in the lounge car. I encountered some new friends and drank champagne with them. Previously, Colyp had let slip the information that, in order to make up for his past transgressions, he had purchased a Christmas present for Alceste and myself which was a bottle of decent liquor. I think it was scotch, but it may have been cognac. Anyway, Colyp had this with him in his baggage, and I wanted to break it out. Obviously, I was Number One while Alceste and Colyp were sleeping. Colyp wouldn't give it to me).

-resorted to sending in the women (So, I resorted to sending in some women to coax it away from him. This worked like a charm and Colyp joined me in the lounge car with our new champagne drinking friends and the bottle of something. Crack the bottle and the simple vessel transforms into a beautiful fountain showering bountiful memories lost forever).

-Alceste took over as pillow for the B.Sleeper.(I already went over this situation).

-Colyp missed score of food with Julia (No idea what this means).

-Got to Lisboa and met up w/Brigg & Switch. (Brigg, you'll recall, was the high-school friend of the RA from our freshman dorm hall who had let us sleep on his roof for some reason. Switch was the RA from our freshman hall. They both lived in Madrid, and we occasionally hung out together on our escapades. In fact, if memory serves me, and I don't see how it could, Brigg was the first to christen us with the name "The Clown Squad. We called them Brigg & Switch after the sales scam known as the "Bait & Switch" ("Baitar & Cambiar") because they were forever offering unfulfilled promises and less than satisfactory results. Some other time I'll tell you about the occasion when they ditched us cold and broke with no accomodations at the Las Rosas bull-fighting festival and we had to sleep in the bushes. Anyway, apparently we had arranged to meet them in Lisbon. I'm not sure who thought this would be a good idea).


-Went to hostel - got some sandwiches - went to castle = cool, overgrown, had reindeer - went to monastery = impressive but yet disappointing - went to dinner = baked trout - went to nap (I don't remember any of this, even the reindeer?!? A wikipedia search causes me to believe that this was the Castle of São Jorge and that the monastery was the Jerónimos Monastery)



-woke at 10pm ->Colyp, Alceste y yo went for beer -

-beers, sandwiches, bottle of port. Back to hostel to sleep.

Notables: 1)Port in castle; 2) Dinner; 3)Red light district where multi-lingual bouncers know profanity in 20 languages; 4)interesting proposition - met Sandra and Jani who made proposal: "We all go for drink, go to hotel, go to Crematu disco" We huddled up -concluded hookers -said "no." They bolted slightly offended. (I vaguely recall this interchange with this couple of young ladies, but I'm not sure what made it noteworthy. Perhaps it was the abrupt directness of their group sex proposition. This is one of many times when poverty allowed us to easily avoid the tough decision). 5) Hostel was cold, bed was hard.


TO BE CONTINUED

Temptation and "Dark" human emotions found to be the clear result of aliens

Welp, the latest Spiderman movie has hit the screets, and I'll be honest: I liked it. I guess the secret is to talk to a few people who hated it first (with any movie), and then promptly go before you start realizing the fickleness of the haters' sense of taste. With that fresh sense of "this movie is going to be yet another expensive, over-promoted Hollywood piece of crap, with no redeeming qualities whatsoever, but let's face it, I'm single and I can walk to the Fox Movie theater anytime I want", you can actually be pleasantly surprised by any form of quality that happens to show up on the screen, whether it was intentional or not.

The basic premise of the movie, aside from the requisite but nevertheless cool action scenes, was that Our Hero (Spiderman) has weaknesses. Try Kryptonite--except black, alive, but also from an alien planet. Again. His weaknesses actually make him act like a dick, but in a cool way. I think 4 out of 5 dentists would prefer the black-suited Spiderman for his cockiosity. I know I did.

But then, Eric Forman shows up. Crap. And no Fez. And no hot red-headed chick from next door, unless you want to count the movie's heroine, "MJ" as a hot red-headed chick from next door to Peter Parker. Ok, so I guess there WAS a hot red-headed chick from next door, now that I think of it. Well, at least no one was from Wisconsin. Thank God, also, that no one wanted to put Ashton Kutcher anywhere in the movie.

Die-hard Marvel Comics fans will be pleased to see that Stan Lee makes a cameo appearance as a "man on the screet", and is instantly recognizable by his horribly-lopsided post-plastic surgery hairline. Oh, well. It is the price Los Angeleans pay for a thick fur coat to impress the chicks.

So, in summary, if you expect little to nothing from this movie, you should enjoy it. And the high-tech jet-skateboard scenes from the "I'm bad I'm good I'm bad I'm your friend I stole your girlfriend I'm dead" Green Goblin Junior are actually pretty cool.

When You Least Expect It, Expect It

Well, in my infinite wisdom, my predictions came true. The unexpected was to be expected at Jockamo Rusty 007.

First, as expected, none of the equipment arrived on time but we were still too loud even with only 2 amps.

Second, unexpected people did indeed come to our performance. In fact, the unexpected people at our performance were us. Apparently were not expected to perform. Although The Crying Game Farm went completely off-script, it was a hit nonetheless. Despite our unexpected success in engaging all of the party-goers, we were ushered unexpectedly and hastily out of the house-party even though we weren't the ones who were vomiting.

Third, who would have expected to walk 500 blocks in the freezing cold during Mardi Gras?

There were a few other unexpected revelations. It turns out that the darker complexioned races of New Orleans remain very angry. One gentleman in particular is very, very belligerent, and one can only assume that his hostility is Katrina-related. Otherwise, why would a minor urine-related faux pais have resulted in Alceste's broken ankle.

Finally, I'm sure something unexpected must have happened Sunday, but I really don't remember. I guess that was to be expected.

Jock-a-mo Rusty

The Clown Squad will be performing for 2 nights only in New Orleans and one night only in Baton Rouge, LA beginning tonight.

Is IT Happening Again?

Some have sensed a palpable, visceral odor beginning to fill the air along with the unmistakeable approaching sound of music being tortured.


Is it happening again?!?

Rusty Gras Set List (Draft)

Originals
Without the Dudes - in Em
Nappy's Seven Dudely Sins - in Bb
Nobody's Gayer Than Nappy - in C
The Rusty Song - in E
The Grumpy Sergeant - in E
Life is Like a Sausage - in E
The Youth Demographic - in G
Too Many Inappropriate Commercials Blues - in A
Two Steppin Surgeon - is this in G or D?
Whisky Infused Train Wreck - I would guess G.

Covers
Jambalaya - in D
Aiko Aiko - in E
You Ain't Goin Nowhere - in G
Like a Rollin Stone - in G
Turn the Page - in E
Mystery Train - in E
Heart of Gold - in G

We'll have 2x 8 song (30 min) sets with 2 songs left over for encores. The play will add 5 minutes, 15 minutes to tune, a 45 minute break, 10 minutes to change my G string, and 8 minutes to re-cage the chinchillas.

The Crying Game Farm

Old Grumpy Sergeant, the retired prize-winning pig, calls a meeting of all of the animals of the Game Farm, (reservations available). Present are Bucky the workhorse, Snoballs the llama, Nappy the goat, and Squealy the squirrel. Col the barn-cat may or may not be present, and ditto for some other animals.

• Snoballs – Ok, let’s call this meeting to order. Roll call – Snoballs, “here.” Old Grump,
• Bucky – Snoballs, you are out of order. There was not a second to your motion for roll call.
• Squealy – You don’t need a second for a roll call. It is not a motion, it is a procedure.
• Snoballs – That’s right.
• Bucky – I don’t think so,
• Squealy - Where is the reference manual for my Robert’s Rulpod? What would it be under, roll or motion?
• Nappy – Oh, it would definitely be under roll, because motion is the broader, or more generic, if you will, classification, while roll relates only to the specific instance wherein …
• Old Grump – Would you harfing sterks shut the froach up. Listen you mother-froaching boaxx, I had a harfing dream that I must tell you about. There was a…. A time came when ….. Froach! Now I can’t remember what it was about.
• Bucky – Was it about the removal of all parasitic humans so that the noble animals can live free in a utopia of peace and harmony?
• Old Grump – Ok.

A knock is heard at the door. Busty Foxxx, a buxom young lass with nondiscriminating taste enters wearing a feathered Mardi Gras mask, a Rusty thong, and nothing else. She is riding a panther bareback.

• Busty Foxxx – I’m here to do you, I mean, to do your books.
• Nappy – Hey look. A girl.
• Busty Foxxx– That’s right. I’m your new CPA, and let's just say I operate on the cash method.
• Squealy- I’m afraid our organization actually operates on the accrual method, but it was nice of you to stop by.
• Busty Foxxx– Don’t you guys know how this works. Everything I say involves sexual double entendre.
• Bucky – Oh, then could you please fuck me a beer out of the fridge.
• Old Grump – While you’re up, fetch me the piss bucket.

Busty returns with beers and the piss bucket.

• Busty Foxxx– Ok, now where were we. Ask me what “CPA” stands for.
• Snoballs – Could I take a quick look at your teeth?
• Nappy - Did I mention that I am a doctor?
• Bucky- Here, hold this between your breasts.
• Busty Foxxx- You idiots couldn’t get laid by a pro during a porno shoot.

Busty Foxxx masturbates for just long enough, then leaves.

• Bucky - ok where were we , oh yes, why don’t you sing us a revolutionary song about it.
• Old Grump – Why don’t you eat my sterk.
• Bucky – Fine, I’ll sing the revolutionary song..
  
  Without the Dudes
  .
  .
  .
  .

The Game Farm - the Musical (First draft)

Cast –
Old Grump the pig – Alceste
Bucky the stallion – OneEar
Snoballs the llama – Coco
Nappy the goat – Lbok
Squealy the squirrel – B&S


Old Grumpy Sergeant, the retired prize-winning pig, calls a meeting of all of the animals of the Game Farm, (reservations available). Present are Bucky the workhorse, Snoballs the llama, Nappy the goat, and Squealy the squirrel. Col the barn-cat may or may not be present, and ditto for some other animals.

----
Without the Dudes

Without the dudes, all the non-dudes will be free.
Without the dudes, you’ll be you and I’ll be me,
We shall run and we shall squat down while the peace
Comes raining down, a golden shower of harmony

Without the dudes, not a wasted seed shall spill.
Without the dudes, we shall lick ourselves at will.
We shall munch the rug of turf upon the hill
And each longing hole in our souls we shall fill.

To bring about this utopia
A bountiful cornucopia
A series of shots, some counseling
And a little snippity sew
So?

Without the dudes, we shall puff out chests out proud.
Without the dudes, rough-sporting wars - not allowed.
Never again, will the fertile fields be plowed.
Without the dudes, we shall sing out high and loud.

(ALL ANIMALS JOIN SINGING ROBUSTLY)
Without the dudes, all the non-dudes will be free.
Without the dudes, you’ll be you and I’ll be me,
We shall run and we shall squat down while the peace
Comes raining down, a golden shower of harmony,

Without the dudes, we shall puff our chests out proud.
Without the dudes, rough-sporting wars - not allowed.
Never again, will the fertile fields be plowed.
Without the dudes, we shall sing out high and loud.
(solo spot on Bucky, quietly then crescendo, Celine Dion style)
Without the dudes, we shall sing out high and loud.

Squealy, and Old Grump look at one another questioningly, then shrug and walk away.

Nappy and Snoballs remain with Bucky.

Nappy – So, I’ll assume command. Snoballs, you can be my second in charge, sort of the little buddy to my captain.
Snoballs – Don’t call me little buddy.
Bucky – Perhaps you misunderstood. Do you appreciate what we must do?
Nappy – I wasn’t really listening, but, whatever it is, I should be in charge. Right Snoballs.
Snoballs – Let’s vote. All in favor, Aye.
Nappy – Aye.
Bucky – You are out of order.
Nappy – The Aye’s have it.
Bucky – How about rock paper scissors?
Snoballs – For what?
Bucky – For this motion.
Snoballs – You are out of order.

All three leave while continuing to argue about procedural niceties.

All are together again with Nappy standing on a booster stool before a podium.

Nappy – So, anyway, we’re going to need some guidelines or rules, commandments if you will,

Thou shalt not create an idol, except of me.
For I am vain, and there aren’t mirrors everywhere.

Thou shalt not say a blasphemous word about me.
For I am insecure, and I don’t like to listen to that anyway.

Thou shalt not kill, but there are many exceptions to that one
That are too numerous for me to get into right now.

Thou shalt not steal, that one seems obvious
But I can’t help but feeling I’m wasting my breath.

Thou shalt not practice sexual immorality, without me.
For I enjoy a good sexual immorality as much as the next guy.

Thou shalt not eat the limb of a lamb,
You know who made me put that one in.

Thou shalt establish courts of justice.
It seemed like we should have at least one shalt.

And back to the sexual immorality, while we’re on the subject,
I’ve got several clarification commandments that I will tell
You about on an individual basis.

So sayeth I, Nappy the Goat.

Old Grump – this story sucks. Snoballs, grab your wallet and we’ll go to the store. What do we need besides beer, cigarettes, sloppy slop fixins, bread, gatorade, whisky, gin, vodka, and tomato juice? Should I get some fresh shrimp?

Snoballs – we need celery, bananas and maraschino cherries.

Bucky – And some olives and a bottle of brandy. Better make that 2.

Nappy – Hey Snoballs, get some perogies and we can compare them to Chicago perogies.

Squealy – Old Grump, get some of that voodoo beer.

Old Grump – Do you guys want to have froaching shrimp tonight or not?

Bucky – Ok, I’ll go start a fire.

Old Grump – Bucky, get back in here and don’t start any fires while I’m gone. Nappy, you’re in charge.

Nappy – That is old business.

Squealy – What’s my job?

Old Grump – You watch Bucky too.

Old Grump and Snoballs leave.

The Battle of the Cowshed -2 unknown creatures, approximately the same height and build as Old Grump and Snoballs but wearing costumes, enter the farm.

Unknown creatures who look like Old Grump and Snoballs: We’ve come to kill you here so we don’t have to kill you where we live.

Nappy – Let me handle this. Bucky, attack.

Bucky – Way ahead of you.

A ball of flame erupts from the pool of gasoline that Bucky had lit for no apparent reason. The Unknown creatures who look like Old Grump and Snoballs flee.

Nappy gloats, the power obviously going to his head.

Nothing is better than me.
Nothing is better than me.
I wouldn’t trade my place
For any other race
For Nothing is better than me.

Nobody is higher than me.
Nobody is higher than me.
I do not need to fly
Scuse me while I kiss this guy
For nobody is higher than me.

Squealy
What did you just say?
I knew that you were gay.

Nappy
If by gay you mean happy
Then I’m guilty as charged

For nobody is gayer than me
Nobody is gayer than me
You give my balls a roll
I’m on the top of the pole
And nobody is gayer than me.

Snouts up

I'm working on the script for this year's performance, and I'm thinking we should revive the barnyard animal theme. Sort of like Orwell's Animal Farm - For Dummies.

So, I need to assign each Clown Squad member to an animal. Bok is easy - goat. Coco and I both have a history with sheep, but I think of him as more of a llama. What about Alceste - bull, pig, or jack-ass? B&S has a thing for squirrels and other large rodents - but does this really count?

What about Colipscol? Is he even aware that we're meeting? He could be the cat. You rarely know where he is or when he will show up, and he can lick his own ass.

I need some input before I set this in stone.

Thank you for your prompt attention.

Truly, yours, OneEar

PS - Perhaps I should be a stallion.

The Youth Demographic

Neh, Neh, Neh
Neh, Neh, Neh, Neh Owh
Eh,Eh,Eh,
Eh,Eh,Eh,Eh Owh
Eair
Neh, Neh, Neh, Neh Owh

Heh, Heh, Heh
Heh, Heh, Heh, Heh, Owh
Eh,Eh,Eh,
Eh,Eh,Eh,Eh Owh
Eair
Neh, Neh, Neh, Neh Owh

Neh, Neh, Neh
Neh, Neh, Neh, Neh Owh
Eh,Eh,Eh,
Eh,Eh,Eh,Eh Owh
Eair
Neh, Neh, Neh, Neh Owh

Too Many Inappropriate Commercials Blues

I’ve got vaginal itching,
And little critters on my toes.
I’ve got vaginal itching,
And little critters on my toes.
I’ve got flames on my hemmroids
A pus filled pimple on my nose.

I’ve got a mutant rodent
I’m sucking on this wolfie’s teet
I’ve got a mutant rodent
I’m sucking on this wolfie’s teet
I just filled up my depends
And still got fungus on my feet.

Baby, burn my boob box
I can’t watch the nightly news
Oh, baby, burn my boob box
I can’t watch the nightly news
I’ve got the “can’t bear to watch,
Too many inappropriate commercials” blues

Can you hear me now?
Great.
Can you hear me now?
Great.
Can you hear me now?
It's time we discussed tampons.
Beep beep, here comes the little red Jeep.

I’ve got erectile dysfunction
And my hair is falling out.
I’ve got erectile dysfunction
And my hair is falling out.
I’ve got too much leaky discharge,
It stains, I wish I could shout it out.

Baby, burn my boob box
I can’t watch the nightly news
Oh, baby, burn my boob box
I can’t watch the nightly news
I’ve got the “can’t bear to watch,
Too many inappropriate commercials” blues.

Funky Monkey Crap Rap

I bought me a rhymin' dictionary
Now my rappin' is scrappin' & scary
Bustin' out rhymes
Rhymin' sometimes
Fill my cup up pup with sherry

Got my hoe in the minivan drivin'
And my peeps in the cheap seats thrivin'
Rollin' through my town
Holdin' brown down
Got to potty hope soon we're arrivin'

Great - too late
What a whack attack
In a blink it stink
Got black in my crack

Got to pull over quick be stoppin'
Wicked quick slick pants be droppin'
Must assess
Wipin' up the mess
With shirts, spurts and squirts I'm moppin'

I bought me a rhymin' dictionary
Now my rappin is scrappin & scary
Bustin' out rhymes
Rhymin' sometimes
Clean the mean green off of my hairy.

WIP - RIP

As you know, I have been spending a lot of time thinking about the impending Rupture. But how does one prepare for the end of time/space? I’ve been studying up on quotations from all of the major religions in preparation for “the final exam.” I’ve also begun memorizing the details of some of my favorite breasts in case I need to conjure up the appropriate image in the bodiless afterlife.

Then it occurred to me: If everyone is destroyed in the Rupture, who in the Hell is going to write my obituary?!? So, I set about working on it. Obviously, it is a work-in-progress, but I've still got some time.

A celebration of the life of P. Daugel Boone, IV will be held the day after the Rupture at the sunken gardens. Mr. Boone died as a result of the end of the universe, and he is survived by nobody. There will be an open bar from 2pm until closing with no drink limits. Appetizers will include sloppy bruschetta, deviled eggs, sloppy slop con Kay’s soul, sloppy slop con carnis, sloppy slop con lechers, meat balls, goat balls, cheese balls, cheese dip, cheese logs, cheese nuggets, cheese puffs, cheesy bacon bites, cheesy potato poppers, cheesy jalapeno poppers, cheese curds, and gelatin.

Mr. Boone was born an infant suited to this world, and, in many ways, he remained that way. He was educated both in school and out and later learned lots of things otherwise. He spent numerous years in the study of difficult concepts, many of which previously were unstudied.

Mr. Boone’s first brush with fame arose from his ground-breaking work performing under the stage name “Fluffy” with the nouveaux-art-folk-noise-rock band, the Clown Squad. Boone’s musical talents were not restricted to his unique ability to forget where he was or what he was doing. “Fluffy” did not subscribe to rudimentary concepts of musical theory or practice. His special style could challenge even the most accomplished players to scratch their heads and wonder, “Does he have any idea how to play any instrument?”

Boone later wrote many award-winning books including the now famous, award-winning "Gynecological Analysis of the Enron Collapse," the seminal "How to Give Yourself Awards for Your Writing," and the award-winning career guide, "What Color is Your Pair of Shoes - Career Advice for a New Millenium From an Award-Winning Award Winner."

Of course, Boone was best known as one of the founding members and chief spokesman of the revolutionary religious institution which sucessfully synthesized all former religions and rendered them unneccessary - the First Unichurck. He also was the Chosen One. Memorial donations may be made to: First Unichurck c/o oneear.blogspot.com

On Weeee Updated - Congratulations

Our friend Alceste has just completed his PhD! Sincere congratulations to you, sir. You are now, without a doubt, the most highly educated drummer in the Clown Squad.

You are hereby officially forgiven for and absolved of all sins to date including but not limited to your troubling absence from Churck services. However, now that you have disposed of your dissertation, we expect you to become more regular.
------------------------

My Toast to You

We are gathered here today to honor a real man – but not just any man. This man is a father, a son, a brother, and an uncle, and a brother-in-law, and a taxpayer. And he is a friend. He is all that a man can, nay should, no MUST be. He is a man’s man.

I will never forget the first time that I met {insert name} . I was immediately struck by his sincerity, his genuineness, his authenticity, and his realness. Over time, I came to know {insert name} not just as a real man, but also as a (make quotation marks in air) “real” man. Yes, he is both real and (make quotation marks in air) “real.”

And so, on this special occasion, we raise our glasses, both figuratively and metaphorically, and we give a toast, “This one’s for you {insert name}, for being one of the really real men.

(Cue: For He's a Jolly Good Fellow - to the tune of The Bear Went Over the Mountain)

Clowns in High Places

Dateline - Alameda, CA. AP reports that a Clown is running for the city's highest public office.

Usually, I don't support anything that happens West of the incontinental divide. But, in this case, I urge the Churck's full endorsement of the candidacy of whatever his name is, you know, the clown.

Speaking of Berkeley, I see that the Nobel Prize in Physics was awarded to the guys that did the Cobe project and thereby provided strong evidence of the "Big Bang." They looked for and found cosmic microwave radiation variations, so that pretty much ends that discussion. Now, we just have to figure out how Rusty caused the Big Bang.