Tuesday, August 17, 2004

 

New This Week!

Costco is selling coffins now! For only eight hundred bucks anyone with a membership card can get their very own coffin!
"Let's see, I'll have five packages of white briefs, four flannel shirts with the same exact pattern in four different colors, twelve number ten cans of Beef-a-Roni, a five gallon bucket of orange juice, that tractor-mower over there, oh, and how about that coffin- do you have it in blue?"
"The coffin is a display only, sir, you'll have to wait 48 hours for delivery on that. Everything else is cash and carry."

Also in the news this week. Wal-Mart is bad for the taxpayers of California. It seems that the state's welfare department discovered that in the past year, California taxpayers have paid out $91,000,000 in food stamps and other state relief benefits for full-time Wal-Mart employees. A study also discovered that if other big box retailers paid the same as Wal-Mart, California taxpayers would be footing the bill to the tune of over $400,000,000 in relief benefits annually.

In an effort to capitalize on the latest trendy medical procedures, the Harry and David company is about to announce "The Operation of the Month Club." Members will have the opportunity to get top quality vanity operations in a clinic within reasonable driving distance at below market rates if bought in bulk. A package of six botox treatments, six laser hair removal treatments, two tattoo removals, nominal liposuction and a bi-lateral boob job will be going for only $9,000. Deeper discounts if only one breast needs work. Large, beer-gutted men can get six-pack abs, in by 9:00, out by noon, for only $3500, as long as they also opt for the penile enlargement with manually operated air pump for an additional $1500.

OVERHEARD AT LOCAL WATERING HOLES LATELY:

"People keep buying me drinks, I don't know what it is," said an older man.
"It's because you've got a heart of gold."
"I wish I did!" He exclaimed, "I'd cut it out and cash it in!"

From a deeply buzzed individual:

"I'm seriously toxified."
"Huh?"
"You know, the opposite of detoxified."

The second overheard conversation reminded me of the days of touring with the rockers. These were international crews that dealt with more efficient airport security and customs officers long before 9/11 (rock crews often being scrutinized for substances other than weaponry). Those of us who wished to find herbal refreshments in the locale of the gig often found luck in this department with the local sound company. Almost always it was the guy who mixed the monitors. Monitor mixers were notorious stoner boys. Even if it wasn't true, the monitor mixer was frequently the object of abuse by the onstage band if the monitor mix wasn't up to snuff.

One time a band kept looking into the wings at the monitor mixer, waving and pointing at the monitors. The monitor guy was passed out, face down on the console. In the middle of the concert a band member walked offstage into the wing and grabbed the guy by his hair, picking up his head off the console. He had pillow face, with the impressions of the knobs and faders pressed into his face. THAT'S toxified.

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