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Byrne Ditches Naked Man at MallApril 1, 2002 |
Littlehead City, CA Ansel Evans David Byrne, appearing in a dream near you It was so vivid, I could almost swear it really happened," said Littlehead City resident Wyatt Touchdowne about his recent dream involving prominent musician David Byrne. "I mean, we were hanging out together just like we'd been friends for a long time. It was really cool."
Touchdowne, 32, a systems analyst for a California software firm, admitted that in reality, the two have never met.
"But in this dream I had the other night, not only did I get to meet David Byrne, but we spent what seemed like a whole lot of time together, just talking and doing things and stuff. First, I was just kind of walking along this beach, and I realized there was this guy right beside me, and when I looked, it turned out that it was David Byrne, former leader of the band Talking Heads...
It was so vivid, I could almost swear it really happened," said Littlehead City resident Wyatt Touchdowne about his recent dream involving prominent musician David Byrne. "I mean, we were hanging out together just like we'd been friends for a long time. It was really cool."
Touchdowne, 32, a systems analyst for a California software firm, admitted that in reality, the two have never met.
"But in this dream I had the other night, not only did I get to meet David Byrne, but we spent what seemed like a whole lot of time together, just talking and doing things and stuff. First, I was just kind of walking along this beach, and I realized there was this guy right beside me, and when I looked, it turned out that it was David Byrne, former leader of the band Talking Heads. So we were just walking along, and we were talking and everything, and then pretty soon we were riding in a car together. We got to this house, and I realized in the dream that it was the house I had lived in when I was a teenager. And then David Byrne came into the house with me! He was actually in the house I used to live in!"
"I remember we talked about music and all kinds of stuff, and he was really friendly, just very low-key and casual, and it was just a really very pleasant encounter. At one point I told him that sometimes when I listened to his music, either the things he said or the way he said them just made me laugh. I couldn't help it, I said, I just laughed. He thought that was pretty funny, and he told me in the dream about this part of one song that he sang by calling over the phone and then holding the receiver up to the microphone. That part was really amazing, you know? I mean, how many people get musical tips like that in their dreams from someone like David Byrne?"
"Anyway, so there we were in the living room, and then my mom and my sister came in the room, and then I think they asked me to go to the store or something, because the next thing I knew, the dream kind of shifted, and I realized I was at the mall, but I was standing there naked in front of the Hickory Farms store, and everyone was looking at me. So of course David Byrne was gone by then, but still, it was pretty cool that we got to hang out together."
Asked if it was common for him to have dreams about celebrities, Touchdowne admitted that he had also had dreams involving personalities such as Mick Jagger, Bruce Springsteen, Richard Nixon and Cameron Diaz, among others.
"One of the strangest ones was where I was hanging out with Harry Nilsson," Touchdowne said. "Harry was really cool and everything, but I kept remembering in the dream that he's really dead in real life. So in the dream, I kept saying, 'But aren't you dead? You're dead, aren't you?' He never answered me, but that particular dream never seemed as real as most of the others. Because how can you hang out with a dead guy, you know?"
When this reporter pointed out that Richard Nixon is also dead, Touchdowne replied, "He is? Really? Wow, when did that happen?"
Despite repeated calls to his publicist regarding Touchdowne's dream, Mr. Byrne was not available for comment. Here at the commune, we all dream of Bludney Plud, or whatever it is he's calling himself this week, just leaving us all the hell alone. Is that so much to ask?
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 August 18, 2003
Lasorda Frisbee"Music soothes the heart of the Savage Beast, except Savage Garden. Boy, that pisses them off but good."
Remember when CDs first came out? They were in those real thin tall cases, like records that had gone on the Slim Fast diet. I told that joke to Tommy Lasorda once and he told me himself he thought it was funny, so you all are kinda required to laugh. Unless you want to disagree with the official Slim Fast spokesman.
For real, those CD cases used to piss me off. I would open the box and expect a real long metal thing you could put in a CD player. Instead there would just be a smaller case with a silver disc inside. That package was so long I always felt completely ripped off that there was only one CD in there. I suppose they didn't want to put two or more CD in there because they would have had to match everything up with another CD and charge people more. You're less likely to buy the new Paul Simon CD if it's packaged with Lemmy from Motorhead's solo album or something. But it didn't help me feel like I was getting taken on the whole deal. I paid for the whole length of the box and those guys didn't bother to use it.
All I can figure is someone at the CD manufacturing company got the total grease job from a guy representing cardboard box manufacturers. He's all like, "Oh, yeah, they may have their own little plastic cases, but what happens if someone scratches those while they're getting put up on the shelf at Sam Goody? No sale, kemosabe....
º Last Column: Intergalactic Train Mouth º more columns
"Music soothes the heart of the Savage Beast, except Savage Garden. Boy, that pisses them off but good."
Remember when CDs first came out? They were in those real thin tall cases, like records that had gone on the Slim Fast diet. I told that joke to Tommy Lasorda once and he told me himself he thought it was funny, so you all are kinda required to laugh. Unless you want to disagree with the official Slim Fast spokesman.
For real, those CD cases used to piss me off. I would open the box and expect a real long metal thing you could put in a CD player. Instead there would just be a smaller case with a silver disc inside. That package was so long I always felt completely ripped off that there was only one CD in there. I suppose they didn't want to put two or more CD in there because they would have had to match everything up with another CD and charge people more. You're less likely to buy the new Paul Simon CD if it's packaged with Lemmy from Motorhead's solo album or something. But it didn't help me feel like I was getting taken on the whole deal. I paid for the whole length of the box and those guys didn't bother to use it.
All I can figure is someone at the CD manufacturing company got the total grease job from a guy representing cardboard box manufacturers. He's all like, "Oh, yeah, they may have their own little plastic cases, but what happens if someone scratches those while they're getting put up on the shelf at Sam Goody? No sale, kemosabe. You know what's great at stopping plastic case scuffing? A foot-long flat cardboard box. Yeah, we happen to manufacture those, if you want any."
The really nice thing about those cases is you could store socks individually if you wanted. It beats having them wrapped up in a ball one inside the other, and makes you feel all fancy having one of your socks in box for Pink Floyd's The Wall. Of course, then you can't find any other concept album that fits well enough to store the other sock in, so it's kind of a double-bladed bong, or however the saying goes. I suppose Quadrophenia wouldn't be too far off. Watch me get all these nasty letters from uppity rock critics now.
You know what really sucks about CDs? They shaped them like frisbees and then make them where they scratch if you throw them like frisbees. And when they scratch you can't play them anymore. Great idea, hot shot. My copy of Abbey Road is ruined because you thought it was cool to make them circular. A square disc like a computer would have worked just as well. Nobody had the urge to lob an 8-track to see how far it would go. As far as I'm concerned, I blame you for my ruined copy of Tapestry and you should reimburse me. At least they could have made the CD players have gigantic mouths where you could throw the CD. Like just sit on your couch and when one CD is over it spits it out. You throw another one from across the room and it lands in there and starts playing. You're like a hero and shit, and it's totally sweet.
Anyway, I'm planning on buying a CD player. So it would be nice for all this stuff to get fixed before I pick up one. º Last Column: Intergalactic Train Mouthº more columns
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|  January 19, 2004
Live and Let DiI don't want to step on commune conspiracy-factory Red Bagel's toes at all here, but word on the street is that Prince Charles conspired with the British M5 to have Diana and Dodi Fayed killed, to prevent Di from dropping the bombshell secret that Charles is actually a really dull guy. Something about popcorn nazis on mopeds shooting out the car's tires, I don't know. I didn't say the word on the street wasn't stupid.
Looks like Michael Jackson pleaded "Not Guilty" to those charges of child molestation the other day, then ran out of the courtroom and jerked off onto a crowd of adoring fans. It really makes you wonder. Who are these goddamned fans? It's one thing to go on TV to publicly show your naive support for a child molester slash possible X-files case. But Christ in a boat, you're still buying this guy's albums? That's something you might want to keep to yourselves, kids. Some facts just aren't made for the public arena. This is when you're supposed to turn your back on the guy and tell your friends you only pretended to like Thriller because you wanted to support recently-black entertainers.
But there's just no hope for some people. These are the folks who still believe Nichole Simpson and Ron Goldman killed each other, forget about it. Sometimes I think these celebrity goons pick up fans every time they decapitate an ex-wife or blow a pelican, people just love conspiracy theories. Personally I think it would've been funny if the judge...
º Last Column: Hot Dogs in Space º more columns
I don't want to step on commune conspiracy-factory Red Bagel's toes at all here, but word on the street is that Prince Charles conspired with the British M5 to have Diana and Dodi Fayed killed, to prevent Di from dropping the bombshell secret that Charles is actually a really dull guy. Something about popcorn nazis on mopeds shooting out the car's tires, I don't know. I didn't say the word on the street wasn't stupid.
Looks like Michael Jackson pleaded "Not Guilty" to those charges of child molestation the other day, then ran out of the courtroom and jerked off onto a crowd of adoring fans. It really makes you wonder. Who are these goddamned fans? It's one thing to go on TV to publicly show your naive support for a child molester slash possible X-files case. But Christ in a boat, you're still buying this guy's albums? That's something you might want to keep to yourselves, kids. Some facts just aren't made for the public arena. This is when you're supposed to turn your back on the guy and tell your friends you only pretended to like Thriller because you wanted to support recently-black entertainers.
But there's just no hope for some people. These are the folks who still believe Nichole Simpson and Ron Goldman killed each other, forget about it. Sometimes I think these celebrity goons pick up fans every time they decapitate an ex-wife or blow a pelican, people just love conspiracy theories. Personally I think it would've been funny if the judge had held Jackson in contempt of bullshit for pleading "Not Guilty," though I guess until all the evidence is in it's not perjury unless he pleads "Not Creepy."
It's actually kind of sad when a former celebrity does something awful and there aren't enough insane fans left over to insist he's not guilty. Like Robert Blake, it must suck to be that guy. Sure, Bob, you ran back in that Denny's real quick after realizing you left your gun on the table (I've been there!) and wouldn't you know it? Some fucker picks that exact moment to shoot the batshit mooch of a conwoman you got stuck marrying. Happens to the best of us, Bobby, sorry to hear it was you this time around. Can't believe the cops even had the balls to trouble you with that nonsense.
Actually I wish I were a better liar because I'd love to be the guy on TV crying "Barretta would never do a thing like that!" They could play that at my wake, it'd be awesome.
Come to think of it, I might be able to turn this into a kind of second career, or eighth if you're counting at home. I could rent myself out to nearly forgotten celebrities who get themselves into legal trouble as a true believer kind of fan, sort of a PR thing for stars who didn't have the good sense to pull off their felonious hijinks while they were still popular. You laugh now, but what about when you turn on your TV next month and see Homer VanSlyke in front of the courthouse for the Phil Spector trial, yelling "No! 'Be My Baby!' Say it ain't so!"?
You'll be laughing a different tune then. º Last Column: Hot Dogs in Spaceº more columns
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Quote of the Day“The day destroys the night, the night divides the day, carry the four, times the weekend, round up from seven, and: Presto! 14. Not sure what that means, I'll get back to you next album.”
-Gin OrbisonFortune 500 CookieMonkeys and live electrical wire are a bad combo for you this week. Try combing your hair with a rake—hey, maybe those jokers were right. You will quit smoking this week, and upgrade to the syringe. Don't take any shit from the crippled, elderly, or the extremely weak: pretty much anybody you can get your girlfriend to beat up. This week's lucky burritos: Refried Revenge, Chock-Full- O-Olives, The Grand Mal, Nuthin-But-Sour- Cream, El Sleeping Bag, Someone Beaned My Ass Tonight.
Try again later.Top 5 commune Features This Week| 1. | Abe Lincoln: Tall Motherfucker | | 2. | Michael Jackson's Dating Tips | | 3. | The Dog Did It: A Dummy's Guide to Solar Wind | | 4. | Uncle Macho's Pepperoni Puree | | 5. | A Tedious Summation of All Your Flaws: Past, Present and Future | |
|   North Korea Pissed Their Real-Life Hunger Games Nowhere Near as Popular as Movie BY Momo 12/27/2004 The IdiotadOf the men who challenged Telio, all were stout and broad-shouldered, hardened of skin and buttocks. They would fight for the glory and honor of Grazi, and perhaps piles and piles of treasure and the occasional loose woman.
And all of this, so the story goes, over the honor of a woman. A hippy, full-breasted woman with lips like a couple of pillows and a tendency to drink a little too much. She was Mildred, Mildred of Grazi, Mildred the golden haired, Mildred of two minds and unsure of who she would rather lie with tonight, Mildred the hussy. She had been chosen by a husband of Grazi, her downstairs neighbor Pithameneus of Grazi; she was taken to Telio by the young and golden-locked Penis.
Outraged, Pithameneus called on his brother Agriculturus, a former...
Of the men who challenged Telio, all were stout and broad-shouldered, hardened of skin and buttocks. They would fight for the glory and honor of Grazi, and perhaps piles and piles of treasure and the occasional loose woman.
And all of this, so the story goes, over the honor of a woman. A hippy, full-breasted woman with lips like a couple of pillows and a tendency to drink a little too much. She was Mildred, Mildred of Grazi, Mildred the golden haired, Mildred of two minds and unsure of who she would rather lie with tonight, Mildred the hussy. She had been chosen by a husband of Grazi, her downstairs neighbor Pithameneus of Grazi; she was taken to Telio by the young and golden-locked Penis.
Outraged, Pithameneus called on his brother Agriculturus, a former farmer and swing king of Cappus. Agriculturus, or Aggie, of the bountiful forearms and delicious sweet corn; Agriculturus, the stubborn fuckhead; Agriculturus, he who has been rumored to have sampled from both sides of the plate, but still considers himself firmly heterosexual, no matter what certain coliseum graffiti might insinuate. Agriculturus came to the aid of his brother Pithameneus and brought 160 ships, all for the purpose of bringing Mildred back from Telio.
Men came to their aid, as men always seem to flock to Agriculturus, the less said about it the better. The first to arrive was Duckus, the swift, son of Doodius; Duckus the unwashed, he of the especially poor hygiene; Duckus the flatulent; Duckus, with the shortest toga in the land, he who could induce the vomitous response in many at once. He brought 6 particularly smelly ships.
The next to arrive was Jargis, the emasculated; Jargis, whose javelin throw was equivalent to that of the goddess Aphrodite, which is not a compliment; Jargis, who ornamented his shoes with rare stones and started gossip amongst the masses; Jargis, son of Unimax, who was quick to deny it. He brought twenty ships, but they were universally ridiculed by all others.
Also came Usyless, he of the lowest self-esteem in the land; Usyless, who needed constant reassurance in the slightest of tasks; Usyless, who raided the self-help section of the local library frequently, he who was quick to tears and too self-conscious of his weight; Usyless of the fad diet, he of not much help in a fight. He brought 40 ships, though no one asked for them.
Another to come was Prickus, the greatest of all assholes in Grazi; Prickus of the hurtful insults, he who was quick to borrow treasure and slower to return it; Prickus, with a girl in every port and a whore stashed away on every boat; Prickus with no friends, who sailed by himself and bossed people around until all good employees chose to jump overboard rather than face insults and endure his spiteful sarcasm for the entire voyage. He brought 1 ship, and was lucky to get it.
And finally was Killalles, the mightiest warrior of all; Killalles of Spago, son of Maximus Painus, who was somehow Roman; Killalles, who could pry stone from rock with his member, he of the arms too thick to wear a proper sweater; Killalles of the big teeth, not that anybody wanted to say such a thing in his presence if anybody knew what was good for him; Killalles who had the eye of every woman in the land, and even occasionally Agriculturus; Killalles with the single downfall of tremendous ego. He brought 89 boats, and one for the ego.
All of this for the love of a single woman, and in the humble opinion of this poet, under witness of the gods, it sure wasn’t worth it.
For more of this great story, buy Momo’s
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