So many topics, so many electrons. I had a very scary experience on Friday night. I was out with a bunch of folks from the Tuesday Night at the Daily Grill. Besides the vaguely helpful customer service and playing an ongoing game of Frankenhooker (if you really want to know, ask me tomorrow), I ran into my neighbor, Carol. Carol is Janet Reno’s righthand woman. Carol was there with her boyfriend, who I believe also works for Reno. I proposed my idea of sending in the SWAT team dressed as Barney or the Teletubbies. The two of them responded, deadpan, “He is too old for Barney.” “It was considered.” “The Teletubbies haven’t reached Cuba yet.” For the life of, I couldn’t tell if they were kidding or not… which makes me think that they weren’t. Be afraid, be very afraid… someone in DC is reading my emails and taking to good bits out and turning them into policy. In other news, Josh and I crashed the Presscore Dinner on Saturday. That is always a good time. You simply hop from patio room to patio room, stuffing your face with all manner of goodies, grabbing as much Chivas as you can, and trying to find the coolest celeb there. We saw: Gary Bussey (with whom I kareokeed Ramstein’s “Du Hast”)*, Heidi Klume, John Waters, Meatpak Chopra (Indian Gay Porn Star)*, Sam Donaldson, and Dianne Rheems. A good time was had by all. … until Sunday morning. I had signed up for a March of Dimes charity walk. First, a few comments on charity. Charity, like almost everything in this country, has become competitive. My team raised more than yours. Trust me, I love competition, but there is something odd about having a pissing contest about how much you can raise. Charity ought to be from the heart, exclusively, no rewards, no tax breaks, no t-shirts; it means more that way. Second, I signed up for this Death March using my own freewill. I was in no way influenced or corerced by certain individuals. I like getting up at 7:30 on Sundays. Any rate, back to our story. Fitz, Josh M, Skippy, and myself joined up with a cast of characters from Oracle to walk through neighborhoods in Reston. We had a great time. There were clowns… and we were scared… especially ‘cuz the clowns had stickers that said, “A clown touched me inappropirately today.” We had fun… until a bitchy woman yelled at us for goofing around and having fun. It is odd how people, frustrated with their insignificance in the universe, express their frustration… typically, they yell at kids having fun. Finally, as you know, Josh is leaving town. This leaves me without a roommate… and I am trying to decided what I want to do about it. This message serves as an exploritory query… is there someone out that might be you or a friend of yours who is looking for a hip place to live in DC?

So Ian and I were trying to figure out what everybody was so angry about, and Ian floated the very interesting theory that they were just pissed because there’s no Phish show in the near future… I mean come on, people. Here you are, driving to DC in your SUVs, wearing your Nikes and Timberlands and J Crew outfits, which frankly don’t really go well with a gas mask (by the way). And you’re coming here waving banners that say “Capitalism Kills.” Well unfortunately, this is the best agument ever to discount Darwinism. Only the strong survive? Clearly these people are too stupid to know what they’re talking about. Capitalism Kills? It seems to be doing a pretty good job for you and your family. So what do they do when they get here? First stop? The Gap. Now admittedly, the Gap owns Old Navy and is technically responsible for putting that woman with the enormous glasses on TV to haunt us, and they gave us the “everybody in…” campaign and now they’re mocking West Side Story. Clearly, the Gap is an evil place. But when all is said and done, there’s really no reason to prevent law-abiding citizens from going about their business (while driving up Wisconsin Ave) so that you can attack the Gap wearing nothing but a grass skirt. What does this accomplish? I mean…if you want a pair of draw-string cargo pants and a tec-vest, it’s best not to wait for a court order to get them. We all know that when you’re sitting in the campus bar telling this story while drinking some (non-union) beer on all you can drink open keg night, people will think you’re cool because you got on TV - not because you showed THE MAN how well hung you may or may not be while wearing your grass skirt. Of course, this is all our parents’ generation’s fault. Maybe if we hadn’t grown up hearing about how important it was to believe in things and protest for social justice, these kids wouldn’t feel that they had to make stuff up to protest. Now I don’t doubt that some of these people are legit social activists who know and care about the issues. Don’t get me wrong on that. But they’re not the ones getting arrested with Molotov cocktails in their bags. These people are the ones who are lobbying their Representatives and Senators in Congress. You can tell which ones they are because they’re less angry and more civil. They want to explaing things to you. And they don’t drive SUVs. But enough ranting. I haven’t even been drinking, yet. Two very important sound clips. The first comes courtesy of Mark Kornblau. With Passover coming, he sends this gem for everyone’s enjoyment. Click on the music section, and then on Dayenu. We all love Dayenu. The second come from one of the protesters that actually knows what he’s talking about. The clip below comes from George Becker. George is international President of the United Steelworkers of America. He asks the question that we all know the answer to. 9:30. Toledo Lounge. It’s your last chance to drink fermented grain products before Passover.

Raise your hand if you remember the Crest Team and the Cavity Creeps. We make holes in teeth! Are you gigling yet? I don’t really have a lot to bather on about today… … let’s see. Ah, music recommendation. Go and get Morphine’s The Night. It is an amazing sample of “low rock.” The first track, The Night, is a great mellow tune. The track Top Floor Bottom Buzzer is the perfect song to describe a party. Oh yeah, I do have ranting material. Cute little Cuban boys get too much TV time. There are cute little kids getting killed in this country and around the world, but we don’t get news about them. We do get news about scary little white girls when they die, but then again, most little white girls’ mother’s don’t dress them up like dolls. Send the boy home with dad and be done with it. In other news, it is IMF/World Bank time again. Want to smash up a Starbucks? Downtown is going to be a mess this week, thanks to thousands of protestors. There was once an IMF employee on the Tuesday Night List… interesting character. When it comes to that much money, no one is going to be happy. Forgiving Third World debt? Bono is sure into it. Required reading: Read this linked article by Bill Joy. It is from the second most recent Wired magazine. This is a great piece on why humans might write themselves out of the future through missue of technology. We make holes in teeth!

Step right, ladies and gentlemen! Step up to the only product you will ever need. Ladies and gentlemen, Buck Johnson’s Miracle Margaritas are the only guaranteed beverage to cause insight, cure halitosis, improve poor performance, and make you more attractive to the opposite sex of fruit flies. Ladies and gentlemen, Buck Johnson has discovered what Ponce De Leon had been search for so many years… a beverage that is both refreshing and inebriating. Step right up! I, as you probably know, like to announce the point at which something goes all wrong. For example, when Matthew Sweet loudly proclaims, “To the party bus!” and you’re standing next to him… that is where it all went wrong. Friday night, Mr. Sweet was in town playing at the 9:30 Club. Josh was kind enough to deal with TicketBastard and get us some tickets… so off we go, Viv, Brian, Fitz, Skippy, Dianne, and many more… off to see Matthew Sweet. While hanging around, I noticed one of Josh’s friends, Ron. Ron knows everyone… literally. At any rate, Ron’s boss, Sandy, is the AIDS czar for President Clinton; she gave Matthew Sweet and his band a tour of the Whitehouse on Friday. After the show, Ron and Sandy were heading back stage and Josh, Viv, and I came along. (We thought the others were with us, but they somehow vanished.) Back stage we met, Buck Johnson (create of the Buck Johnson Self-Defense Through Garlic home video). Buck is Matthew Sweet’s keyboardist. We shot the shit with him for a while… he kept saying how good his margaritas were. Eventually, it was off to the tour bus to sample these fine beverages. Meanwhile, Matthew Sweet groupies kept coming on the bus to get various things autographed… Josh and I tried to sign someone’s CD, but they realized we weren’t part of the band. We did, however, get a set list and Buck Johnson’s home number in LA. So to be honest, I didn’t feel that bad that I slept very late… after all, I partied like a rock star with rock stars!

Okay, compare these two situations and tell me what is wrong with this picture. 1) A woman offers a $10,000 reward for information about her father’s death. He was shot outside his suburban home; there were no witnesses. 2) There is a $100,000 reward for information about a man who tossed a woman’s poodle into traffic in San Jose after she hit his car. $10,000 for a human life versus $100,000 for the life of a hairball with legs! What on earth is wrong with us? We value our pets lives more than each other? This is disgusting! I mean, if I was picked up and thrown into traffic because the person I was driving with got into an accident, the only money that would be offered would be a reward to whomever threw me. I am beginning to think that I am reincarnated and I have the soul of a very old bitter man with a walker, which he wields like a mace. In other news: it’s cherry blossom time. Time once again that DC puts on a fresh coat of Spring, the city smells good, life is as it should be. Granted, the blossom’s are coming a bit early, but this is only a good thing for us residents; it means that touron’s won’t overrun our city asking questions like, “Where are the trees?” There is a down side to this years cherry blossoms, word is that the local beaver’s union is looking for Federal subsidies. In other other news: Because St. John’s, Maryland, and Penn lost, my bracket is absolutely worthless. In fact, I imagine that most people’s picks are pretty shot.

Much to my chagrin, there is a kick-me sign on the back of my car. Well, there’s not really a physical sign, but more of a kick-me aura. Last week… um, Tuesday I believe… wait it was a Tuesday, how cruel, I was driving home, because I don’t like to be in VA after the sun goes down (call me superstitious.) Any rate, I am on 123 right before the GW Parkway. A BMW stops in front of me; I stop 5 feet behind him…. and then…. well, have you ever seen Toonces the Driving Cat on Saturday Night Live? You will remember how right after one of the characters says, “They say he can drive a car,” Toonces invariably drives off a cliff and everyone in the car make silly “I’m falling off a cliff ‘cuz I went driving with a cat” faces? The lady in the Jetta behind me made one of those faces. Damage Report: BMW: The piece of plastic trim around the bumper was cracked. Ian (Front): Front of car has a little piece of molding loose. Ian (Back): Glass everyone where, but not from my taillights. VW emblem pushed into back of trunk, causing a dent. Jetta: Missing headlights and grill. Hissing noise coming from the radiator. Basically, really f’ed up. Moral of story: Never rear-end a ten year old Volvo. This got me thinking about five mile an hour bumpers. What the hell are they? Why don’t we have something more useful like 100 mph bumpers? In fact, I want cow-catchers mounted front and rear and the right to use them at any speed. Apparently, people thought last week’s email was a bit bitter and evil… I thought it was funny, oh well. Just a warning, our boy Seth is returning to DC for the weekend and will be making a big pre-St. Patrick’s day appearance at Toledo on Thursday… I think he is staying with me for the rest of the weekend.

I am sick and tired of this bullshit. When has it become acceptible behavior to shoot someone at show and tell? When has it become an accepted hobby to grab children from in front of their houses and schools? Did I miss them memo that says, “Go ahead, drive 35 in the left lane with no one around you.” This crap just gets piled deeper and deeper. Solution: the internet. Ain’t no jackasses driving Ford FuckingHugeMobiles. No six years olds packin’ heat… okay, there are but they only post pictures of their cats and guns. No sick fuckers trying to molest children… okay, that’s not true, but go with me here. Just sit at home, use kozmo.com to get movies and gummi bears, use peapod.com for groceries, use napster for tunes, and watch the electronic world go by. Why am I so bitter sounding? ‘Cuz some mutha tried to run me off the Baltimore-Washington Parkway on Friday. So, I’m in the right lane, ‘bout three miles south of the Beltway. A big blue pickup truck (old) decided it really needed be in the right lane. Now mind you, everyone is going 40, bumper to bumper, and no one is going anywhere that fast. Big blue assman cuts his wheel when his front tire is at the middle of my car; he clearly saw me. I had two choices: gun it, or slam on the brakes. I took the first choice, which was the right choice. His bumper clipped the back of my car. I pull over to check things out… he doesn’t! Quickly checking for damage, I find none, jump back into the car to chase this guy down. Remember, that things are bumper to bumper and no one is going anywhere… so chasing him was impossible. I call the State Police; they (over the phone) grin-fuck me. I get bitter. In other news, the University of Pennsylvania Fighting Quakers have clinched their berth in the NCAAs. In other other news, my esteemed roommate had a bit of time on his hands and found other Tuesday Night clubs. Granted their websites aren’t as slick as ours (www.tuesdaynight.org), but theirs are finished while ours is not. BTW, if you want something up on the site (a little bio or whatever) just let me know. Check out these others sites: * http://www.tuesdaynightclub.co.uk/ * http://www.tndcdallas.com/next.htm * http://www.woodystoronto.com/tuesopen.htm * http://www.candiru.com/tncc.html

Friends, I guess the best way to sum up two years of comes from a sage of our day, Rick Rockwell, “This journey began when I went looking for love on a television show.” (Sidebar: I believe that Rick Rockwell has an evil twin brother Bruce Beefslab and they will for a wrestling/comedy duo like Penn and Teller. There will eventually be a Fox special on “When men with overly virile last names attack.”) Two years have gone by since Josh and I began patronizing Toledo Lounge. A lot has happened in this time and I just want to recap a few choice moments: * Clinton did not have sex with that woman. * We had something like 8 storms of the century. * Y2K came and went with no casualties. * The bad season came and went with casualties. * The bubble never burst on Wall St. * “The Canadians have completely co-opted ham with Canadian bacon.” Needless to say, I have enjoyed sharing a little bit of my insanity every Monday for the last while. I hope you have had fun too. Reasons to come tomorrow: * The 2 Year Celebration… including special guests, like Nile Rogers * It’s Leap Year Day. How often does that happen? * Mardi Gras. Beads, booze, and body shots! Yes, ladies and gentlemen, not one, not two, but three remarkable reasons to come on out tomorrow night. Suzie has said she is planning something good from the bar. We will bring the lemoncello.

As Josh pointed out it is Tom, and not John, Landry. Somewhere in my head that got all mixed up.

Have you seen this one kids? Fox’s Who Wants to Marry A Multimillionaire? So 50 women, who recently got cut from some Arabian prince’s harem, prance about on stage for two hours and at the end of all that, a judge, or possibly, vote from the home audience selects the lucky lady who gets legally wed (as suppose to illegally wed) to the Mystery Bachelor. This, ladies and gentlemen, is why America is the best place on earth. This is also why the entire nation is going to hell in a hand basket. I think the show should be called, “Who wants to see how much cash they can get before the prenup kicks in?” What if the bachelor is… say… Larry Ellison, that kid from The 6th Sense, or even Ray Lewis? In other news, the Wine Expo was this weekend. Imagine, if you will, a group of twenty people clad in either a) a leather jacket b) something black or c) all of the above. No, ladies and gentlemen, this is not a new gang roaming the streets harassing widowers for stock tips. This is yuppie herding at its best. What to wear to a wine expo is a tough question. Twenty of us lumbering down to the Regan Building was just too funny. At the Fest d’Grape, there was all sort of silliness to be had. There was, in fact, good wine, cheese, and ham… though the ham guy wasn’t there the second day. You got to hear a lot of guys posturing themselves in front of their dates saying things like, “You know, I far prefer this 97 to the 96 because the fruit is much more forward and the wine as a whole is more approachable.” You also got to hear people, like myself, say things like, “You know, I far prefer this 97 to the 96 because the fruit is much more forward and the wine as a whole is more approachable.” And then there were some people, the best ones to watch, who said things like, “Me like wine… ‘specially in glass.” A good time was had by all. Under the category of: A bit of magic in everything and then some loss to even things out John Landry, Charles Schultz, and Screamin’ Jay Hawkins all passed away recently. They each in their own way made this world a better place. They will be missed. Under the category of: Way to excited for cartoons Fox is bringing back The Family Guy next month!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Life is good again.