Anyway, were about halfway through the first of a two part episode when the connection breaks and we have to start over. An hour and half later we’re not getting anywhere. So what does she do, she starts browsing Amazon to see how much it would be to buy season 3 and season 4. Yeah, she’s a bit obsessed with the show.

We’re looking at 60 bucks to see the rest of the shows. Then I say, “why don’t we just rent it from Block Buster?” Ten minutes later I’m in my car driving to Block Buster renting the last part of season 3 and the first half of season 4. The worst part about this is I liked it.

This weekend he called me in desperation for “guy” time. He just finished steam cleaning the carpets. Being the good friend I am and knowing I could get my Xbox back I went over to his house. What I found was a stressed person with furniture stacked every where but where it was supposed to be and carpet cleaning equipment laying around. As soon as he got there he offered me a drink and set up the Xbox.

After about a half hour of playing and a few drinks his wife walked through the door. She’s happy he cleaned the carpet but not too happy he didn’t finish the job. The two carpet steamers are in the middle of the door way and he’s got a bunch of computer equipment laying around.

His wife wasn’t happy but he didn’t pick up on this so we continue playing. A half hour later his wife comes to him and says, his oldest daughter wants to have her friend over and she’s going to get her. His wife also said that she has to get out of the house; she doesn’t know where she’s going but she’s got to get out. I’m laughing on the inside because I know she’s really pissed at him and he has no idea.

Before she goes, she says, “you have to watch the girls because they tend to make a mess”. He says sure, ignoring her and pours himself another drink.

About a half hour later one of the girls is sitting on the steps out of sight being quiet. My friend asks her what she’s doing and she says, “I’m working.”

We ignore her because we’re half in the bag on a very important mission in the game. During our break my friend decided to check on the girls. It appears the “work” they were involved in was writing there names by all of the light switches in the house. When they got bored with that they decided to color the house. Yes folks there was red, yellow, and blue marker all over the walls. They decorated the banister going to the basement and continued the artistic collage to the wall and around the the entire basement. It was a great effort by the girls.

I promptly left when it became apparent his wife was going to kill people when she came home. I haven’t talked to him in two days. I hope he’s out of intensive care.

Their influences were blues and rockabilly. Take the rhythm of blues; smash it together with rockabilly guitar and wrap it up with vaudeville antics and you get something close to the Cramps. While on the surface the lyrics seemed simple and almost inane a closer look showed almost too subtle puns.

The Cramps stage image at first glance was pure S&M. However, like all things with the Cramps, there was more to it than what was shown on the surface. Lux Interior often dressed in stiletto heals wearing womens’ lingerie underneath his jacket, was one of the first gender benders of rock. Eventually during the show, Lux discarded all clothing but bikini briefs and his stiletto heals making his climb to the top of the speaker or to a balcony of a small venue that much more memorable. I liken it to a watching a car crash; yes its ugly but some how you couldn’t take your eyes off of it.

Lux Interior was a major influence on the punk scene and continues to be a major influence to GPATRN. Lux, you will be missed.

DO NOT open any e-mails from Classmates.com. Once you do your in for a unleashed fury of correspondences from people you didn’t want to talk to 30 years ago let alone talk to now. I fell for the curious “you have three people checking your profile” then after I fell for the trap and realized I never filled out a profile, they had me. Or should I say my e-mail address. With the people gathering information for my 30th year high school reunion flying around like buzzards around a cow carcass.

I immediately got an e-mail from one of the members of this committee. Starting off innocent enough with small talk a request if I new any others, I tried to politely back out. Then receiving more e-mails trying to get info like an old school detective working the swing shift trying to interrogate a two-bit hustler. Still not knowing what to expect, I briefly described that I had a couple of kids and married someone from the same class, blah, blah blah then it hit. They didn’t even acknowledge anything I wrote and instead went into a non-stop baggage dump of drunken husbands, never seeing each other, bad marriage, etc.

WOW! I started thinking, OK, how do I get out of this. I started wishing ‘lots of luck’, ‘I can’t make it cause I got to organize my sock drawer’, and ‘too busy to talk right now’. Then I just ended the last e-mail with the ‘keep in touch’. I don’t want to be mean or seem non-caring but what difference is a person I haven’t seen in thirty years any different from someone that I never met, shouldn’t there be a statute of limitations for knowing someone, unless you spent a ton of time with them not just one semester of English class, you should limit your gut spilling, heart wrenching, noose tying tirade.

Maybe I’m looking at this all wrong; it was the reunion itself that was all wrong. Everyone has issues in high school, people they hated, girls you liked but didn’t know you existed, embarrassing events and going through puberty all lead to four years for most people, couldn’t wait for it to be over. I for one, hated school and why the hell would I want to be reminded about it. It took the last 30 years to forget it! Now I have freaking nightmares of tests, goons, and not being liked by girls I just wanted to talk to. I should track that person down that e-mailed me and kick the crap out of her. Good for her drunken husband and lowly life, you were miss popular then and now your ‘wishing things were like your life’. Bullshit! What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, high school didn’t kill me (came close) but I new I wanted to make it better. Got the girl I wanted and it’s been perfect with two kids I appreciate a little more now.

I should start e-mailing all those losers and show them what a good life could be like except I don’t have the e-mail address to every white trash bar in Cicero. Reunion, my ass! In case you didn’t get my final RSVP, its drop dead!

Cazek

Listen Up

“The personal listening device that turns ordinary listening into extrodinary listening.” Now that’s marketing genius at its best. I won’t point out that they misspelled extraordinary. OK never mind, I just did.  I’m sure everyone who has a TV has seen these commercials. The poor guy is getting bitched out by his wife for going deaf, and all he can do is shake his head. My favorite part of the commercial is the face the guy makes when he has to turn down the stereo; now that is great acting. I’m getting one of these so I listen to people talk about me. They would never notice me holding up this pager like thing staring at them like a mental patient, would they?

Awesome Auger

“Take the hard work out of yard work!” Again, there’s a marketing genius at work here. Nothing says I love you like a cheep drill and useless add-ons. In this commercial we see Billy Mays, the most annoying person on TV, going through loose mulch like it was loose mulch. That scene sold me on this product.

The Snuggie

“The Blanket with Sleeves!” What can I say, sometimes the marketing just lays it out there for your. What more could you really say about this? Some uses for the Snuggie are:

• Oversized Sleeves – code for it works for fat people too.
• Hands Free –perfect for people without hands. Think about it, if you don’t have hands, how are you going to keep that blanket around you?
• Super large – not just large but super large, another nod to fat people.
• Machine washable – for those of you who do have a machine that washes stuff, this will prevent you from having to make your way to river and beat it with a rock to clean it.
• Perfect for Outdoor use – because who would be uncomfortable sitting next to a person dressed like a monk?
• Makes a great gift -  I can’t agree more, if you happen to be out of sweaters and have a fetish that requires you to dress like a monk, this is the perfect gift.

Facial Flex

“The only “proven” way to tone and condition the underlying muscles of the face, chin and neck.” Did you get that, the ONLY way to tone underlying face muscles. Now, if you’re worried about your overlaying facial muscles, you’ll have to find a different product. Their marketing department needs some creativity but the commercial on the site more than makes up for it. This is my favorite item in the list. You have to watch this commercial. This lady is jacked up on drugs or something because I don’t think she understands what she doing. The classical music playing in the background and her trying to count while using the Facial-Flex makes for an unbelievable experience.

I say we keep this one for the ladies. This should go over really well them. “Hey honey, your face is kind of fucked up so I got you this for you; hope it helps.

The YouTube clip is too funny.  People will do anything to get on TV. Notice how they have the young woman working the Face-Flex while the older women stand around talking. I wonder why they did that? I can just see it; everyone is standing around trying to decide how they’re going to coordinate the set for the infomercial when the male producer says, “I think she should demonstrate it because you two are better talkers. Yeah, that’s it, you two are better talkers.”

Of course after seeing her demonstrate this thing, it may not be a bad gift. Of course after giving it, I’ll have to find a new place to live.

I hope these products help you with your Christmas gift buying.

Pavel

I know you’ve heard of the ‘you know you’re a redneck neck when…” jokes

and I know you’ve heard of the term white trash, but I never new technically what the difference between them were until last night. I was washing dishes that got piled up more than usual. My wife was helping the kids with homework while I was scrubbing all sorts of plates, and pans, lids and glasses. Round ones, square ones, flat and deep, all sorts of shapes and sizes then I came up to the Tupperware. “Hmm’ I said to myself. I usually say ‘hmm” to myself when I don’t have anything else to say. So I was a thinking that these plastic containers, plates and pans, lids and glasses. Round ones, square ones flat and deep ones all sorts of shapes and sizes are plastic. Yes, something I would think is thrown away. But knowing how my wife is fond of her Tupperware I started washing the plastic plates and pans, lids and glasses. Round ones, square ones, flat and deep, all sorts of shapes and sizes till my fingers got all wrinkly.

I thought I was done.

The key word in the last sentence was thought which is when I usually get myself in trouble. So, when I was leaving the sink and putting away all the regular dishes and Tupperware, pans and lids and glasses. Round ones, square ones, flat and deep, all sorts of shapes and sizes is when I heard what I thought I would never hear. “Don’t forget the butter containers.” Butter containers? I looked on the side of the counter and there were all sorts of plastic containers that once were the original containers for butter, cool whip, margarine, ice-cream, frozen fruits and  many that had wrappers that came off after repeated times of use. I was going to throw them out. Like normal people do. I was about to say to my wife, “You got to be kidding, these are meant to be thrown out”? but didn’t when I seen the “do you want to meet God tonight?” Look on her face after dealing with my two boys for and hour. So I started washing. Cheap plastic plates and pans, lids and glasses. Round ones, square ones, flat and deep, all sorts of shapes and sizes. Then is hit me. I bet you also forgot the real question to this story, didn’t you. That is the definition between a redneck and white trash. A Redneck is someone who has more Tupperware the regular dishes, and white trash has more disposable containers than Tupperware and still uses it over and over again.

Now nothing else about us has any implications of any redneck jokes or white trash stereotypes, and since Christmas is coming, I think I am going to do my family a huge favor and buy about $500 in normal pots and pans, Pyrex and China containers, pans and lids, and glasses. Round ones, square ones, flat and deep, all sorts of shapes an sizes just so I don’t have to wash out a Cool Whip bowl for the tenth time.

Piece….Cazek

One reason I’m not in charge at home is that I would eat myself to an early grave in no time. It’s no secret that bacon is my favorite food. I could eat two pounds of fried bacon and a full package of breakfast sausage in one sitting without blinking an eye.  Most people would be rushed to the hospital after a meal like that, not me. I just look around and say, “What, there’s no more?”

This morning the developers and some managers were interviewing a woman with a PHD in something and masters in computer science. She’s interviewing as a junior developer because she hasn’t had a real job yet. Since I’m not involved with the interviews one would think, how could he possible mess up the interviewing process? Don’t under estimate my lack of common sense. It has proven to be destructive in even the most guarded situations.

The destruction of the interview process started yesterday afternoon. The girl friend messed up and left me at home unsupervised for hours. When left alone I am a detriment to me and the local environment. With so much time on my hands I thought I could run to the store, get a couple pounds of bacon, cook it, eat it, and have the house fumigated before she got back home without her knowing anything happened.

I was wrong. The bacon grease stains on my shirt and the ever present smell of cooked bacon proved to be my demise. I knew I should have cooked something else to try and mask the smell. I didn’t account for the impending food coma. An oversight I will not commit again.  Anyway, I was busted but it was worth it. Sometimes you just have eat bacon. I think I’ll have that etched on my tombstone.

So I got caught eating two pounds of bacon, it wasn’t the first time and it won’t be the last. The worst part is the morning after. As you can imagine, eating two pounds of greasy bacon does wonders for your digestive system.  Do I need to go into how grease reacts with your digestive track? I didn’t think so.

The problem isn’t that I ate two pounds of bacon or that we are interviewing a potential candidate. No, the problem is that these two events have coincided so closely and the geographical location of our conference rooms and our bathrooms. The timing couldn’t have been better. The interviewing process was going on at the same time the bacon was taking its toll on me. Let’s say it was less than a moment of silent thought when I went to take care of things. It was more like the world war III with mutual nuclear destruction. The cries and moans could have been mistaken for ghosts and ghouls haunting the building. However that explanation was tossed out the window when I came walking out of the bathroom. As I passed by the conference room door, the conference room door that has a big window, I saw everyone looking at me.  At first I thought they were just catching my eye. I smiled and waved unknowingly cementing my guilty plea. Not until I got to my desk did I rewind the events in my head to come to the obvious conclusion, “they heard me.”

Now I have to act like nothing happened for at least a week. If they end up hiring this woman, I’ll have to bury this event in my mind forever and live with her knowing that I sound like the end of the world in the bathroom. Or I could man-up and ask her to pull my finger when they introduce me. I’ll let you know what happens.

Pavel

OK, now I don’t have a lot of time on my hands as you imagine. I have a farm to take care of, kids to yell at, places to go and tons of work to do, but there is no way I am going to pick through my garbage and then sit in front of the computer and go on Craigslist to give it away for free. You got to see the crap that’s on there. It’s like a traffic accident, you don’t want to look but you have to see the carnage.

Don’t get me wrong, I love craigslist. I’m hooked on looking for musical instruments, old cars and things that are worth buying, but you have to look at the free section. My god do people have a clue in the world anymore. I understand that green is in and land fills are out of whack for a hundred years but when I see some of the worthless nonsense on there you got to shake your head.

I got to share some of these and they are actually real;

***Diaper Bag FREE!!!!

Drywall Joint Compound

10 Glass Ashtrays

Summers Eve Douche

Commode,

You see what I mean; I can’t believe that anyone is going to drive 5 miles with gas prices today to pick up a free tub of Dry wall compound that you get a Menards for $3. I also wouldn’t let my kids butt get near some moldy ass diaper bag. I also really wanted to get an old smelly ass ash tray from a bar let alone ten of them. My favorites are the douche and commode. Enough said on those.

People out there, use the garbage can for this crap. No one is going to protest your house for global warming or polluting for throwing this junk out. Most of the items on the list were legit. Couches and table that cant be taken when moving. I can even see the non-working water heaters and furnaces would be good if a scrap guy took it instead of filling up a garbage dump.

To the head of Craigslist, have a warning label not to have stupid people list anything  although, it does make for good reading.

Ppppppp’s, Cazek

So how does this taste-challenged individual keep wining chili contests? I cheat. The basis for my award winning chili is Hormel. Yes folks, I start every batch with a can of Hormel and work from there. Usually I add a can or two of beans and a half pound of ground beef or ground turkey. I spice it up with a few Jalapenos, chili powder, tobacco sauce, and some generic chili spice mix. I control the heat by adding honey. The more honey the less heat. Usually I only add honey if it’s too hot for me, which is almost never.

I learned this trick while on the road touring with GPATRN. In the beginning the band wasn’t making a lot of money. We had to live on almost nothing. We learned quickly how to stretch a dollar. We learned how live on nothing and by nothing I mean, crumbs in the back seat of the ’74 Nova we toured in. During this time the band experimented with various spices to liven things up. It was during this time that we came up with the chili recipe.

The chili recipe sounds like a pretty bland because well, it is bland. Aside from the spices, there’s not much flavor to it. However, living in Boulder and/or working nearby, is an advantage for me. The people in this area try way too hard to make an exotic chili that just turns out bad. One guy made a chili that tasted like buffalo wings. Are you kidding me! Chili that tastes like buffalo wings?  If it was a buffalo wing contest, instead of a chili contest, he would have won. Another guy made a vegetarian chili that tasted more like cardboard than it than chili. The other entries were full of stuff that did nothing to make it hotter or tasteful. So, as usual, I won the chili contest by (kissing it) keeping it simple stupid. I won because the other entries were bland or just terrible. In other words, I won be default. Having the only chili that was traditional did the trick.

Most people are surprised by my win. They tell me that my chili wasn’t anything special or that maybe it was a little too hot. I just shake my head and say, “I don’t know why I won either”. Of course I’m lying when I say that because I know exactly why I won. I don’t care enough to try. Like a good friend of mine says, “Caring is trying and trying is failing.”

Then next time you’re entering a chili contest, remember the secret is to keep it simple stupid and start with a can of Hormel.

Pavel

This isn’t the only annual naked event in Boulder. There is also a naked bike ride to protest against our dependency on foreign oil. Yep, you read that right, people go for a naked bike ride to protest our dependency on foreign oil. Yeah, I don’t get the connection between cloths and oil either.

The funny part of this story isn’t that there’s going to be a group of drunken naked people running through downtown Boulder; no the funny part is that the police won’t do anything about it. In an article in the Colorado Daily, the police chief reportedly said, “we will be exposing the public to more nudity by taking 20 minutes to write a ticket rather than just letting them go.” Yeah, you couldn’t have a squad car nearby to put them in, no that would be too hard.

What is going on here is that the police are not going to bother with drunken naked people because it’s not a big deal and I couldn’t agree more. The police aren’t being inundated with calls complaining about this race. People will probably not even notice the naked runners. This is Boulder, we’re used to seeing weird things here, it’s a college town after all, there’s always something weird going on here.

The best part about this naked pumpkin run is that I am not participating. I know it seems like something I would jump right into, right? I’m not running the race because of the children and for the general safety of the public. I can’t, in good conscious, expose the general public let alone any children that might happen to be out to the horrific site of a middle age, doughy, pasty white guy running past them in the nude with a pumpkin on my head gasping for breath like I was going to have a heart attack. Nobody and I mean nobody, including me, needs to be exposed to that horrific site.

There is always plenty of streaking during a GPTRN concert. Sometimes it’s all we can do to keep the female polka enthusiasts from taking off their cloths and throwing them at the band. It’s get embarrassing at times. And then there was the time the female polka dance champion of 1963 decided to strut her stuff in the buff on stage while GPTRN was playing one of our international hits. It was bit awkward when the roadies had to take her off stage.

If you happen to be trick or treating tonight in Downtown Boulder, be warned, you may be exposed to a group of streakers with pumpkins on their heads.