whoa! blogger, what hast thou wrought?! can't say i was ready for a change (which in reality probably took place weeks ago) to the blogging system i know and love. it's thrown me so far off, i almost forgot what i was going to write about. first of all, alissa (see link to the side, but really, if you've ever read my blog, you probably know alissa) was in town last weekend, and st. louis was temporarily a better place. second of all, alissa, you can buy me drinks all you want, but if you dare say it's a repayment for your part of the bar tab at the karaoke bar, i will have to mock you. hard. (seriously, until my fourth aa meeting, i will buy you drinks without a second thought, at least until the bar tab gets into the triple digits).
ok, now the real reason i got on blogspot... i wish i could give you a date, but the new bastards karamazov show is going to be freaking awesome. avante garde, cutting edge comedy that isn't afraid to say what it means, or hit on your mom after a few pitchers of boilermakers. look for us to announce multiple dates at multiple locations. if you or anyone you know owns a bar with a sound system and a stage, let us know. if you or anyone you know likes to get drunk with funny people, let us know that too.

clocking in at just over a month it's...... geronimo! that's right folks. i haven't forgotten either one of you. it's just that i've been so busy lately, what with the kidnapping and all. i mean, like it or not, you gotta feed those hostages every day!
to be honest, i really am only writing this so that i can not write again for another month. i'm not really a diary type person, and i'd usually rather get a laugh in person than hear someone tell me they thought the blog was funny. i wish i could promise more posts, more regularly, but i know that i wouldn't keep that promise. instead, i'll make a promise i know i can keep. (ah-hem) from this point on, i promise that each and every gthedamned post will contain at least one (1) multisylabic word. gthedamened is not responsible for misspellings. for that i would blame the drugs.
until next month, or something pisses me off real good...

the day of a show may cause
-fluttering stomach
-incurable lust for nicotine
-desire to be anywhere but work
-lack of focus
-need to last minute prop shop

needless to say, i am a victim of the above ailment. the show is going to kick ass, but until i hear a good laugh from the audience, i get a shit load of this. if you haven't made plans, you have now. if you have, break them, or better yet, relocate them. nothing makes a romantic moment more special than three overeducated and undercivilized gentlemen of the world poking fun at human foibles and genitalia. come one, come all, bring the kids (just not inside, please). bring grandma. she'll piss herself, and if she can hear well enough, she might just enjoy the show, too!

the kc was a rockin good time, as it turns out. i got to see several old friends, including kingston, the new topographer, and insomnia. to at least the first two listed above, it was spectacularrrr to see you again. (and new t. -- you should steal your dad's car. it looks great on you!)
i really think i should have majored in piracy.
now i have two weeks as acting office manager, since the real one is in new zealand. should prove to be fun, if i can hold my sanity intact.

come see the bastards karamazov one week from tonight at the way out club, 9:30 until they kick us the fuck out.

the bastards karamazov will be performing their first ever live solo show, march 9th at (where else) the way out club on the corner of jefferson and gravois, starts sometime after nine. for details call 781-2464

whoo hoo, i get to go to kansas city. party-time.

let's talk about salt, people. not table salt; that will have to be another rant for another time. no, i mean that modern marvel, road salt. first of all, when the sign on the back of the truck says stay back fifty feet, do. it's not only hell on a paint job, but will also whitewash a windshield like that was the purpose.
it's the driveways that i need to comment on, though. when you lay down salt on the driveway, it usually turns out to be a good thing for everything but the grass on either side. however, let me implore you to stop at a certain point! once you get to the point that you are slipping on the salt as badly (or worse, since it isn't expected) as you would the ice, it has gone too far. think before you salt. a message from the national you fucking moron council.

(two non-political posts in a row. can he go for the record?)

first there was ice, falling from the sky overnight
then there was snow all morning, to insulate the ice
then there was lasagne
then there was sleep
then there was an anxious radio listener, hopefully listening to school closings
then there was a disappointed radio listener
then there was no school anyway
but there was still work.
drunks don't take snow days.
now there's going to be more snow, and they don't plow our new neighborhood with any more regularity than they did the old one. does it get any better than this?

hateful demokkkrats are going to cost us four more years of that joker. if there can't be at least one unified front by the other evil corrupt political party, we might even see an abolition of term limits in the next four years. then we're really fucked, aren't we?

Let's go to the moon again, folks. think of how great that will be. we could live there, even if there is no life on the moon as yet. we could use the moon as a cheaper way to get to mars, what with the lessened gravity and all, even though there is no rocket fuel on the moon. and once we get to mars, why don't we just take that short little hop to heaven? we could thank jesus in person for all the help he's given us, in stealing elections, in bringing a highly technological war to an already downtrodden people, and in driving on a emotion centered populace over a cliff that they could see if only they would look with rational eyes.

that said, come see our show on monday. it's going to be the best one yet.

the bastards karamazov will be performing once again at reverend brim stone's lunar menagerie, this monday, jauary 19th at the way-out club, corner of jefferson and gravois.

i am way too sleepy to be at work, even though my caffeine is finally starting to kick in.

well, i've beat the month. now that it is blessed january, and i have nothing more than a lot of paperwork to do, i hope that i'll have time to update the world (at least the billionth of a percent that read this blog) on my day to day goings on. actually, strike that. i shouldn't bore the few people good enough to pay attention to my ravings... gotta work. more later

good god this is going to be a long day. my back hurt when i got up this morning, and over the course of today, i have to deal with 1800 cases of wine. i hope we get good temps. i also hope that plenty of people come to the third rev. brim stone's lunar menagerie, monday, dec 15, at the way out club (corner of jefferson and gravois). finally, i hope that you all have a good day, right up till let's say three fourteen. from there on out, you're on your damn own.

i realize that i'm slacking off on my posts, but it has been rather busy at work, what with it being the holiday season and all. i never guessed that people need to drink so much to deal with the holidays. i thought it was just me. it seems that between shopping, eating, family get-togethers, gift giving, and decorating, not to mention the weather, which is the primary reason for all of the holidays this time of year anyway, nearly everyone could stand a quick belt. it's not quite 8 a.m., and i could stand a quick belt right now. if this were a holiday, to hell sith standing, i could sit a long protracted journey into an alcohol fueled fantasy world, filled with bourbon elves and reinbeer. just imagine: one shot for every ornament hung, while slowly working on an eggnog (less the egg and the nog, thanks) and wondering how long it will take dad to crack into the bushmill's we got him for christmas, and if he plans on sharing it this year. a roaring fire, irish coffee, kahlua and milk for the kids, gin and vodka cocktails cooling in the snow, and grandma fortifying her tea with just the slightest nip (of tea).

sweet dreams...

well, i hope everyone had a nice thanksgiving. i did, on the whole, though there wasn't nearly as much drinking as there was the last time we did thanksgiving with suzi's family, two years ago. drinking beer all day and eating so much that drunkenness is next to impossible is a wonderfully gluttonous pastime, but one that can only be practiced a few times a year.

how is it that there are twelve days of christmas, but only seven deadly sins? what are you supposed to do the other five days?

i don't have a whole hell of a lot to say this morning, and you might be asking yourselves, why then must you subject us all to tales of your tedium? to which i reply this. were any of you to endure my version of boredom for even a second, your heart would be cauterized. that's right. i'm not bored or boring, i'm performing a valuable service to all of mankind (which, alongside my other goal to transform as much grain alcohol as possible into water for the health and safety of humans everywhere makes me a pretty indespensable, don't you think?).

the stl can be such a fucking drag.

just a quick post to make everyone jealous... i got to see chris rock live last night, and with about six thousand exceptions, you didn't.

dear god, to be in great britain right now. imagine with me, if you will, a land in which protesters are actually permitted to see the person and/or corporate menace that they have an issue with! real press being given to liberals and consservatives alike! and not one gun in the hands of the populace or the police! if only i had time to pack...

television is proof that the rich hate the poor. keep them pacified. keep them stationary. should the bastards desire information, filter it and spin it and keep them ignorant. keep them thinking that cops brutalizing criminals is reality (as well as people dating for huge sums of money and people eating live insects for smaller sums of money). keep them buying, keep them fat, keep them docile, keep them in wait for the cage rattling that brings forth the spew of ignorance and filth some have the nerve to call patriotism.

i guess i'm a little scathing this morning. the show is tonight...

this is why i'm a sucker...
the man has not been able to (completely) keep me down
i've taken on (video boxing) the heavyweight champ witout a scratch
i've stood my ground against opression, racism, classism, and several other isms
and one little rhinovirus can kick my ass
tad's ride, i'b sick! bud tad's not why i'b a sucker...
i'm posting from work.

i'm such a sucker sometimes, i believe my own bullshit.

coming off of a good rehearsal, i would have to say that the next baskar show is going to rock thy nads off. those of you without nads to rock off, it will rock some of the recently rocked off nads onto you. November 17th, at the way-out club on the corner of jefferon and gravois, nine o'clock, post meridian.

one of our dogs got ahold of a chicken beastbone and some ribs. i think she's going to be ok, but jesus fucking christ.